1) Ice cream headache in my face for the first 15 minutes of the ride.
2) The snot dripping from my nose and freezing on my upper lip. Yummy snot cicle.
3) Bike lanes that just disapear. Another brilliant concept by King County.
4) Fat-ass SUV's and their Bush supporting bumper stickers. Stupidity at it's best.
5) Knowing that it's freezing outside, the procrastinator in me is able to turn a planned 2 hour ride into a 45 min. ride.
So much for training.
6) Cold feet. I mean achingly cold feet that turn firey hot once back inside.
7) Other riders on the road that look warm. How dare they go around acting as if they are enjoying themselves?
8) Cold feet, cold ears, cold everything.
9) Cold feet.
10) Damn those cold feet.
Obviously, some of these are year-round riding peeves, but the cold weather seems to compound the iritation factor...
As usual, I formulated this list while on a ride and now that I'm home in basking in the warmth, I'm wishing that I had another 2 hours before work to go riding. Heck, I wish I had the whole day. Apparently, it wasn't that bad.
2.15.2005
Calling all crazies...
Yesterday was Valentines Day and all the nut jobs were out en masse. What's up with that? We had this one guy come into the store that smelled really bad and was wondering around in a manic way that was making us very uncomfortable. He kept picking stuff up off the shelves looking at it and then putting it back. He was trying to look busy and not succeeding. Then when I thought he was in line to order something he bolted to the condiment bar, picked out a stir stick, (these are wood and made for stiiring coffee)),and started chewing and then spitting the pieces out onto the floor. I approached him to find out what the hell was going on and he started muttering about not bothering anyone. Did I mention he smelled really bad? I told him he couldn't hang out and spit stuff onto my floor and he replied that he might order something. As if that was going to make a difference at this point.
Next thing I know he is jumping into a car that is parked in the pull-through/fire lane in front of the store. We all looked at each other in shock because none of us had noticed that there was a car there in the first place and my first thought was that he was stealing someone elses car. I had one of my partners check the bathrooms and we asked all the other customers if their car was parked in the pull-through lane. As he pulled away, I noticed he had Florida plates and watched as he drove 50 ft. into a space in the parking lot. Perhaps he was suffering from post traumatic stress from the 2000 elcetion debacle in Florida and now wonders around the country spitting wooden stir sticks onto the floors of coffee shops everywhere...
On the other hand, this is North Bend and pretty much everyone here suffers from some sort of craziness. At least he wasn't as bad as the guy we had one morning that was whacking off outside the window. But that's another story.
Next thing I know he is jumping into a car that is parked in the pull-through/fire lane in front of the store. We all looked at each other in shock because none of us had noticed that there was a car there in the first place and my first thought was that he was stealing someone elses car. I had one of my partners check the bathrooms and we asked all the other customers if their car was parked in the pull-through lane. As he pulled away, I noticed he had Florida plates and watched as he drove 50 ft. into a space in the parking lot. Perhaps he was suffering from post traumatic stress from the 2000 elcetion debacle in Florida and now wonders around the country spitting wooden stir sticks onto the floors of coffee shops everywhere...
On the other hand, this is North Bend and pretty much everyone here suffers from some sort of craziness. At least he wasn't as bad as the guy we had one morning that was whacking off outside the window. But that's another story.
2.10.2005
Ahhhh, snow...!
Yesterday was a totally perfect day and really, that can't be said too often. My Dad played hooky from work and we met out at Longmire with our skis and snowshoes and hiking boots, (just in case we couldn't find snow). But, oh did we find snow! The most fluffy, sparkling snow I've ever skied on in WA. The weather was just about as good as it could get. Warm and crystal clear. And the Mountain! Did I mention the mountain? There are no pictures because of course I forgot the camera. Doh! Suffice it to say that it was huge and beautiful.
We made our way from Paradise up to Mazama Ridge. Watched a group of telemarkers bomb a big bowl and then climb back up to the top just to do it all over again. Man, those guys work for their fun. I wanna learn to telemark... Some day. We then spent a good part of the afternoon making our way down the ridge. The thing about playing in the snow is that you get to make your own trail. You go where the path looks friendly, which is...nice.
I realized about half way through the day that I'm no skier. I like to bomb little slopes and the whoopdy-do's through the trees are fun, but I'm really not cut out to be on skis. My legs get all rubbery and I fall down a lot. Put me on a bike, any bike, and I'll be right at home. I adapt easily to different terrain, different bikes, and different conditions without even thinking. Not skis. My Dad kept reminding me to keep my edges this way or that, and not to ski into creeks or off the side of the ridge. It's just not intuitive like cycling. Kinda makes sense though. I grew up in Santa Cruz and we didn't have snow, but we did have bikes and I've been riding one since I was 3 or 4 years old.
The good part of skiing is I still have fun doing it even if I'm really no good at it. And the best part about skiing is that it gets me outside during the winter months and we always end up at these most spectacular places on these amazing days. That in itself is worth flinging myself haphazardly through the snow, (even when it get down my pants!).
We made our way from Paradise up to Mazama Ridge. Watched a group of telemarkers bomb a big bowl and then climb back up to the top just to do it all over again. Man, those guys work for their fun. I wanna learn to telemark... Some day. We then spent a good part of the afternoon making our way down the ridge. The thing about playing in the snow is that you get to make your own trail. You go where the path looks friendly, which is...nice.
I realized about half way through the day that I'm no skier. I like to bomb little slopes and the whoopdy-do's through the trees are fun, but I'm really not cut out to be on skis. My legs get all rubbery and I fall down a lot. Put me on a bike, any bike, and I'll be right at home. I adapt easily to different terrain, different bikes, and different conditions without even thinking. Not skis. My Dad kept reminding me to keep my edges this way or that, and not to ski into creeks or off the side of the ridge. It's just not intuitive like cycling. Kinda makes sense though. I grew up in Santa Cruz and we didn't have snow, but we did have bikes and I've been riding one since I was 3 or 4 years old.
The good part of skiing is I still have fun doing it even if I'm really no good at it. And the best part about skiing is that it gets me outside during the winter months and we always end up at these most spectacular places on these amazing days. That in itself is worth flinging myself haphazardly through the snow, (even when it get down my pants!).
2.08.2005
Exploration
So, today I went for a ride. I tried to get out of the house early, but I had to put a new tube in on the road bike but the rim tape is falling apart and about 2 minutes after I got everything back together, it exploded. Sad. I decided I would finally go see if I could get to North Bend from Issaquah by way of the Cedar River or the south side of Rattle Snake Ridge. I would need a map and had to scan one out of the Gazateer. That done, I couldn't decide if I wanted to take the single mt. of the multi gear mt. bike. Figuring I didn't really know what I was in for, I opted for the multi gear and set out a whole lot later than I wanted. Off I went into the unknown.
According to my map there is a way to get there, but I wasn't confident I would make it. So, I rode and rode and rode... Through the forest and into the middle of nowhere. Literally nowhere. But here's the crazy thing, people live out there. I'm about two thirds of the way down this road and a car goes whizzing by. I'm thinking they'll be back soon. The road is suppose to be a dead end. Then a short time later another car goes by. Weird. I keep riding and then wholly crap, there's a
whole neighborhood out there-in the middle of freaking nowhere.
Long story short, I never found the way into North Bend. The four way intersection I was supposed find never presented itself and since I started so late, it was sure to be dark before I got all the way home. So I turned around at the end of the "private road" I ended up on. Funny side note: this road had a huge sign that said, "NO ADMITTENCE, ROAD DEAD ENDS, PRIVATE, NO TRESSPASSING". I went up it any way. I mean what were they going to do to me? But every car that went by, the person waved and smiled. Do they know they live on a private road? Nice people. It was good to know if I need anything that they might help.
There was snow up there and starting to get very cold. I realized as I was heading out that I was going down hill. I hadn't even realized I had been climbing for the last 15+ miles. I was frozen by the time I made back to pavement and just couldn't wait to get home. All in all, I spent 3 hours on the bike and rode 33.5 miles and never found the way to North Bend.
Sometimes, that's the way exploration goes. You do a lot of exploring and not a lot of finding.
According to my map there is a way to get there, but I wasn't confident I would make it. So, I rode and rode and rode... Through the forest and into the middle of nowhere. Literally nowhere. But here's the crazy thing, people live out there. I'm about two thirds of the way down this road and a car goes whizzing by. I'm thinking they'll be back soon. The road is suppose to be a dead end. Then a short time later another car goes by. Weird. I keep riding and then wholly crap, there's a
whole neighborhood out there-in the middle of freaking nowhere.
Long story short, I never found the way into North Bend. The four way intersection I was supposed find never presented itself and since I started so late, it was sure to be dark before I got all the way home. So I turned around at the end of the "private road" I ended up on. Funny side note: this road had a huge sign that said, "NO ADMITTENCE, ROAD DEAD ENDS, PRIVATE, NO TRESSPASSING". I went up it any way. I mean what were they going to do to me? But every car that went by, the person waved and smiled. Do they know they live on a private road? Nice people. It was good to know if I need anything that they might help.
There was snow up there and starting to get very cold. I realized as I was heading out that I was going down hill. I hadn't even realized I had been climbing for the last 15+ miles. I was frozen by the time I made back to pavement and just couldn't wait to get home. All in all, I spent 3 hours on the bike and rode 33.5 miles and never found the way to North Bend.
Sometimes, that's the way exploration goes. You do a lot of exploring and not a lot of finding.
1.30.2005
Ignorance is Bliss
So, for christmas dinner I made bread for the first time ever and fell
in love with yeast. It's the most amazing stuff and apparently I'm not
the only one who thinks so. The Joy of Cooking states, "If you have
never made yeast bread, behold one of the great dramas of the kitchen."
Boy, is that true. I had great success with my first batch over the
holiday and thought I'd whip up a couple of loves for a work party. So,
I put everything together and mixed and kneaded and kneaded and
kneaded, and set it in the bowl to let it proof and the first hour goes
by and nothing happens. I'm starting to panic a little 'cause I really
don't like it when things are not working out like they should. As I
wait for the dough to rise, I keep playing back the way I made it the
first time around. Yep, I scalded the milk, added the butter, salt and
sugar, beat 3 eggs and added, dissolved the yeast and waited for it to
become active, threw in the flour..., what did I do wrong? My love
affair with yeast is rapidly becoming a love/hate relationship as I
wait impatiently for the tell tale bubbles to start forming on top of
the dough. Did I kill the yeast? I consult Alton Brown's baking book
for clues as to what might be going wrong. Did he steer me in the wrong
direction? It's 1:30 in the morning and I'm going to take his advice
and put it in the fridge for the cold and slow method of proofing and
hope that something happens by the morning. I guess ignorance is bliss,
because I had no idea what I was doing the first time I tried this
whole bread thing and I ended up with big beautiful loaves of golden
brown braided egg bread... Well just have to wait and see...
in love with yeast. It's the most amazing stuff and apparently I'm not
the only one who thinks so. The Joy of Cooking states, "If you have
never made yeast bread, behold one of the great dramas of the kitchen."
Boy, is that true. I had great success with my first batch over the
holiday and thought I'd whip up a couple of loves for a work party. So,
I put everything together and mixed and kneaded and kneaded and
kneaded, and set it in the bowl to let it proof and the first hour goes
by and nothing happens. I'm starting to panic a little 'cause I really
don't like it when things are not working out like they should. As I
wait for the dough to rise, I keep playing back the way I made it the
first time around. Yep, I scalded the milk, added the butter, salt and
sugar, beat 3 eggs and added, dissolved the yeast and waited for it to
become active, threw in the flour..., what did I do wrong? My love
affair with yeast is rapidly becoming a love/hate relationship as I
wait impatiently for the tell tale bubbles to start forming on top of
the dough. Did I kill the yeast? I consult Alton Brown's baking book
for clues as to what might be going wrong. Did he steer me in the wrong
direction? It's 1:30 in the morning and I'm going to take his advice
and put it in the fridge for the cold and slow method of proofing and
hope that something happens by the morning. I guess ignorance is bliss,
because I had no idea what I was doing the first time I tried this
whole bread thing and I ended up with big beautiful loaves of golden
brown braided egg bread... Well just have to wait and see...
12.20.2004
12.17.2004
Not really sure, but...
So, now I to have a blog. What the heck? It's all the rage..gotta get one...everyone's doin' it...come on, get with the program! Weirdness is all around. Next thing I know, I'll be getting talked into building my own web site or something. Who's got time for it anyway? I should be out riding and getting some fresh air, you know?
9.26.2004
Mammoth was a trip!
We got there Friday afternoon (race was on Saturday) and lo' and
behold, Mom was already there! That's got to be first! Due to work
schedules and such we were not able to leave until Thursday evening
so that did not give me any chance to pre-ride the course during the
"official" practice times. No worry...I poached the course after all
the racing was done for the day and hoped not to get caught. I could
have been disqualified. There was one problem - the Pro course (which
were the one's racing that day) was a different set of loops than the
Sport course. So, I couldn't figure out what course I was on...Yikes!
Oh well! Mammoth is at a very high elevation-almost 9000 ft. and not
at all technical. It's very dry and the place is loaded with Pumice.
So, I figured at least I got to get a feel for the terrain and what
the race would be like even if I didn't exactly know where I was
going!
Race day rolls around and I get lucky...they are not starting us
until 3pm! I got to sleep in, eat a huge breakfast and relax! What a
luxury. In Idaho, they started us at 7am! Ouch! Anyway, the day was
beautiful and I found myself at the start line wondering what the
heck I was doing there with all these girls from around the country
who look like they were out for blood. Very scary. It was an odd
thing to be at a race where we didn't know anyone and none of the
girls from the WIM series showed up. Going into this race I was
ranked 9th in the country from all the points I racked up doing WIM
races. I happened upon that info by accident and what a surprise.
So suddenly they are calling us up to the line to start, but they are
calling the girls by name and introducing them. I figured they were
highlighting the top girls from around the country and then they
called my name! Weird. Yeah, and kind of cool too! The gun went off
and we were away... The start was a road climb that turned into a
fire road climb that just went on forever. I immediately went into
oxygen deprivation and it was all I could do to stay on my bike as I
watched the entire field ride by me. Very discouraging and I
contemplated stopping. My arms hurt so bad and I felt like I couldn't
even keep my granny gear moving. Then I started that weird
self-talking thing. "You can't stop! You drove 16 hours to get here
and you might as well do the race" "Just keep riding... no, stop,
what's the use, really? You'll never catch anybody. You're too far
behind..." And I was really far behind. I looked back about 1/4 of
the way up the hill and there was only one girl behind me. How sad.
Having never really been in this position before, I decided to calm
down and try to just keep riding. I knew there was some fun trails to
be ridden on the course and if I could just make it to the top of the
hill, I could at least try to have some fun while I was getting my
butt kicked by the rest of the field.
Then a funny thing happened, I started catching up with people. I was
having a great time descending some really great single track and
suddenly I was in a position to start passing the girls ahead of me.
One girl crashed and I was able to get around her before she could
get back up, and as I was really starting to settle in, the course
went in a direction that I had not ridden the day before. This turned
out to be a really steep hill that I passed another girl on. This
hill was even worse the first one. I think it must have been 20%
grade at least. While I was still near the bottom I heard someone
beating on a drum in a very regular rhythm. So, I focused on the drum
and just tried to stay upright. About 50 meters from the top was this
man with a 5 gallon bucket and a stick cheering us all on to the top.
Awesome! I remember thinking, "Please be here the next time I come
around 'cause this hill is really going to suck the second lap!" And
then I found out out that I had indeed NOT ridden the Sport course
the day before... I was coming into an area called "7 Bridges" which
was a series of bridges that ran down through a gully filled with
rocks, ledges, and drops. Oh my, what fun! It still was not as
technical as anything we get here in Washington and I was able to
ride it cleanly and with out incident.
I ended up passing a few more girls on the second lap. The funny
thing was that I passed them on the first hill where everyone blew me
away at the start. I watched them sitting up in their saddles,
craning their necks trying to see the top of the hill. I thought to
myself, "Keep your head down and keep pedaling." Hills seem flatter
if you stay focused on the ground and not where the top is. And I
watched them slip behind me as I made my way up the last time I would
ever have to ride this hill. This is what I kept telling myself all
the way up. "This is it... this is the last lap of the season... this
is the last race of the season... this is the finals... ride like
you've never ridden before, because this is it..." And that's what I
did. The guy with the bucket and the stick were there for us on the
second lap and thank goodness. I would have never made it up that
hill with out him and his beat that was so perfect for the grind. I
rode the rest of the second lap harder than I've ever ridden
anything. Just before the finish was a short but punishing climb that
led into the final descent. My legs have never been so tired. I
finished the race with nothing left in the gas tank. I was completely
spent as I charged down to the finish line.
I ended up placing 6th overall. A little disappointing since I just
missed the podium by one place, but considering I had ridden my
hardest race ever and it turned out to be the best racing I've ever
done, I am very pleased with the outcome. I didn't come in last and I
didn't give up. I went through the whole process of talking myself
into finishing and what a drag it would have been if I had given up.
I would have missed my best race of the season! So, I went from 9th
in the country to 6th and for my first go at a national finals race,
I couldn't have asked for a better experience.
Mammoth Lakes is a very cool little town and we had a lot of fun
there. Scott and I still had more fun planned before heading home...
We stashed our bikes and extra gear at the Inn on the mountain at the
bell-hop station and for free no less! They were so cool. We were
kind of at our wits end when none of the bike shops in town would let
us drop our bikes for a few days while we went backpacking. One of
the shops wouldn't even take our bikes in for tune ups... he didn't
even want our money. And so I just starting calling hotels around
town to see if any of them would hold our stuff. The first place I
called was the Inn on the mountain and the lady I talked to said, "Oh
yes! We do this all the time. Just come to the front desk and we'll
take care of it. No charge and completely safe. Your bikes will be
locked up inside!" I couldn't believe my ears. We had not even stayed
there and they wanted to help us. Talk about customer service. So, up
we went, packed our gear, said goodbyes to Mom and the dogs, and to
Jim Albright and the rest of the SingleTrack Team, and took off for
the hills.
We spent 4 glorious days hiking around the Sierras. Starting at the
Devil's Post Pile section of the John Muir Trail we headed up towards
Thousand Island Lake. My feet were in really bad shape the first day.
I never really had a chance to get my boots broken in properly and
the pain was really something else. But we forged on. Eventually, we
made it up past the 10,000 ft mark and spent one of our nights at
Garnet Lake with the Ritter Ridge as the back drop to the lake. Mt.
Banner was spectacular. Garnet Lake is just a couple miles over a
ridge from Thousand Island Lake and we had planned to spend a couple
of nights there, but hiking out the next day we noticed big thunder
heads moving in and it was getting quite cold at night. Scott decided
that we should head down instead of going up since I was moving very
slow and may not be able to move fast enough if we happened to get
stuck in some kind of weather that we needed to get out of. So, we
made our way down this incredible canyon that has no name but the
Middle Fork of the San Joquine runs through it. All the Aspen were
turning fall colors and the trees were amazing. We ended up having
fantastic weather the whole trip, although it was very cold at night.
Apparently it had snowed in Mammoth Lakes the week before we got
there.
We are home now and it's good to see Beni. We missed him. This
weekend is Salmon Days and the fish are making their way up the
creek. I never get tired of watching them and I don't think Beni does
either. He's spent every day outside since we've been home. Well,
that's it for now. I go back to work tomorrow : ( Oh well, it was
nice to finally take a real vacation and get some perspective on the
whole work thing and how it fits into the whole life thing.
behold, Mom was already there! That's got to be first! Due to work
schedules and such we were not able to leave until Thursday evening
so that did not give me any chance to pre-ride the course during the
"official" practice times. No worry...I poached the course after all
the racing was done for the day and hoped not to get caught. I could
have been disqualified. There was one problem - the Pro course (which
were the one's racing that day) was a different set of loops than the
Sport course. So, I couldn't figure out what course I was on...Yikes!
Oh well! Mammoth is at a very high elevation-almost 9000 ft. and not
at all technical. It's very dry and the place is loaded with Pumice.
So, I figured at least I got to get a feel for the terrain and what
the race would be like even if I didn't exactly know where I was
going!
Race day rolls around and I get lucky...they are not starting us
until 3pm! I got to sleep in, eat a huge breakfast and relax! What a
luxury. In Idaho, they started us at 7am! Ouch! Anyway, the day was
beautiful and I found myself at the start line wondering what the
heck I was doing there with all these girls from around the country
who look like they were out for blood. Very scary. It was an odd
thing to be at a race where we didn't know anyone and none of the
girls from the WIM series showed up. Going into this race I was
ranked 9th in the country from all the points I racked up doing WIM
races. I happened upon that info by accident and what a surprise.
So suddenly they are calling us up to the line to start, but they are
calling the girls by name and introducing them. I figured they were
highlighting the top girls from around the country and then they
called my name! Weird. Yeah, and kind of cool too! The gun went off
and we were away... The start was a road climb that turned into a
fire road climb that just went on forever. I immediately went into
oxygen deprivation and it was all I could do to stay on my bike as I
watched the entire field ride by me. Very discouraging and I
contemplated stopping. My arms hurt so bad and I felt like I couldn't
even keep my granny gear moving. Then I started that weird
self-talking thing. "You can't stop! You drove 16 hours to get here
and you might as well do the race" "Just keep riding... no, stop,
what's the use, really? You'll never catch anybody. You're too far
behind..." And I was really far behind. I looked back about 1/4 of
the way up the hill and there was only one girl behind me. How sad.
Having never really been in this position before, I decided to calm
down and try to just keep riding. I knew there was some fun trails to
be ridden on the course and if I could just make it to the top of the
hill, I could at least try to have some fun while I was getting my
butt kicked by the rest of the field.
Then a funny thing happened, I started catching up with people. I was
having a great time descending some really great single track and
suddenly I was in a position to start passing the girls ahead of me.
One girl crashed and I was able to get around her before she could
get back up, and as I was really starting to settle in, the course
went in a direction that I had not ridden the day before. This turned
out to be a really steep hill that I passed another girl on. This
hill was even worse the first one. I think it must have been 20%
grade at least. While I was still near the bottom I heard someone
beating on a drum in a very regular rhythm. So, I focused on the drum
and just tried to stay upright. About 50 meters from the top was this
man with a 5 gallon bucket and a stick cheering us all on to the top.
Awesome! I remember thinking, "Please be here the next time I come
around 'cause this hill is really going to suck the second lap!" And
then I found out out that I had indeed NOT ridden the Sport course
the day before... I was coming into an area called "7 Bridges" which
was a series of bridges that ran down through a gully filled with
rocks, ledges, and drops. Oh my, what fun! It still was not as
technical as anything we get here in Washington and I was able to
ride it cleanly and with out incident.
I ended up passing a few more girls on the second lap. The funny
thing was that I passed them on the first hill where everyone blew me
away at the start. I watched them sitting up in their saddles,
craning their necks trying to see the top of the hill. I thought to
myself, "Keep your head down and keep pedaling." Hills seem flatter
if you stay focused on the ground and not where the top is. And I
watched them slip behind me as I made my way up the last time I would
ever have to ride this hill. This is what I kept telling myself all
the way up. "This is it... this is the last lap of the season... this
is the last race of the season... this is the finals... ride like
you've never ridden before, because this is it..." And that's what I
did. The guy with the bucket and the stick were there for us on the
second lap and thank goodness. I would have never made it up that
hill with out him and his beat that was so perfect for the grind. I
rode the rest of the second lap harder than I've ever ridden
anything. Just before the finish was a short but punishing climb that
led into the final descent. My legs have never been so tired. I
finished the race with nothing left in the gas tank. I was completely
spent as I charged down to the finish line.
I ended up placing 6th overall. A little disappointing since I just
missed the podium by one place, but considering I had ridden my
hardest race ever and it turned out to be the best racing I've ever
done, I am very pleased with the outcome. I didn't come in last and I
didn't give up. I went through the whole process of talking myself
into finishing and what a drag it would have been if I had given up.
I would have missed my best race of the season! So, I went from 9th
in the country to 6th and for my first go at a national finals race,
I couldn't have asked for a better experience.
Mammoth Lakes is a very cool little town and we had a lot of fun
there. Scott and I still had more fun planned before heading home...
We stashed our bikes and extra gear at the Inn on the mountain at the
bell-hop station and for free no less! They were so cool. We were
kind of at our wits end when none of the bike shops in town would let
us drop our bikes for a few days while we went backpacking. One of
the shops wouldn't even take our bikes in for tune ups... he didn't
even want our money. And so I just starting calling hotels around
town to see if any of them would hold our stuff. The first place I
called was the Inn on the mountain and the lady I talked to said, "Oh
yes! We do this all the time. Just come to the front desk and we'll
take care of it. No charge and completely safe. Your bikes will be
locked up inside!" I couldn't believe my ears. We had not even stayed
there and they wanted to help us. Talk about customer service. So, up
we went, packed our gear, said goodbyes to Mom and the dogs, and to
Jim Albright and the rest of the SingleTrack Team, and took off for
the hills.
We spent 4 glorious days hiking around the Sierras. Starting at the
Devil's Post Pile section of the John Muir Trail we headed up towards
Thousand Island Lake. My feet were in really bad shape the first day.
I never really had a chance to get my boots broken in properly and
the pain was really something else. But we forged on. Eventually, we
made it up past the 10,000 ft mark and spent one of our nights at
Garnet Lake with the Ritter Ridge as the back drop to the lake. Mt.
Banner was spectacular. Garnet Lake is just a couple miles over a
ridge from Thousand Island Lake and we had planned to spend a couple
of nights there, but hiking out the next day we noticed big thunder
heads moving in and it was getting quite cold at night. Scott decided
that we should head down instead of going up since I was moving very
slow and may not be able to move fast enough if we happened to get
stuck in some kind of weather that we needed to get out of. So, we
made our way down this incredible canyon that has no name but the
Middle Fork of the San Joquine runs through it. All the Aspen were
turning fall colors and the trees were amazing. We ended up having
fantastic weather the whole trip, although it was very cold at night.
Apparently it had snowed in Mammoth Lakes the week before we got
there.
We are home now and it's good to see Beni. We missed him. This
weekend is Salmon Days and the fish are making their way up the
creek. I never get tired of watching them and I don't think Beni does
either. He's spent every day outside since we've been home. Well,
that's it for now. I go back to work tomorrow : ( Oh well, it was
nice to finally take a real vacation and get some perspective on the
whole work thing and how it fits into the whole life thing.
