Hostess with the Mostest

This morning as I was getting ready for work, I heard this story on NPR about Hostess shutting down due to an ongoing national strike. What?! And we all thought Twinkies would, quite literally, be around forever.

Later, I found myself recalling fond Hostess memories with a friend. My mom used pack pink Sno Balls in my lunch as a special treat on field trip days. It truly added to the excitement of getting to be away from school to visit some cool museum or historical site, and even as an adult, I associate Sno Balls with school field trips. I used to eat the outer coconut-covered marshmallow part first, then the creme-filled brownie.

When I went to week-long swim camp as a kid, my friend Sarah and I would bring a box of Ho-Hos and save them until mid-week (always Wednesday night), and then we would gorge and eat the entire box at once.

Perhaps it will be better for America's health if Twinkies and Wonderbread are off the shelves. But.....what will we do when the zombies come?!

I would love for friends and family to share their Hostess memories in the comments..... :)

Release

It's amazing how easy endurance workouts are when you have a lot on your mind. I have come to rely on some of my favorite activities - particularly running, swimming, and yoga - when I feel life's stresses beginning to close in.

Time and time again, I have found clarity while running, especially on wooded trails. Having that moment of realization that yes, everything will actually be OK, literally leaves both my mind and body feeling weightless and free. In those times, I find myself running faster with more energy and a huge smile stretching across my face. It is a feeling of true bliss.

I always seem to find peace of mind in Shevlin Park.

A couple days ago, my mind was feeling heavy, and I was trying to sort out my thoughts by writing a letter. I found myself getting emotional, confused, and overwhelmed. So, I shut down my laptop and headed for the pool. The 50 meter pool was open, which always makes me happy, possibly because I can stretch out without having to do so many flip turns. I jumped in and just started counting my 100s, and before I knew it, I swam for 2,100 meters and 30 minutes straight. I wasn't even tired. I just took a break because I was thirsty, and then I kept on going.

I don't think my life is particularly stressful. Of course I have problems and obstacles and challenges, just like anyone else. For the past several months, my life has been in a constant state of flux, and I have felt less grounded than I ever have before. However, even this, I have learned to accept. I know that eventually I will find solid ground again, and for the time being, it's okay to let go and "go with the flow."

As we are reminded in yoga practice, everything we know is based on our past experience. Therefore, it is common for fears to rise up when we encounter something unfamiliar, whether it is going into a headstand or being unemployed, crashing on your cousin's air mattress, and ending a relationship. The gut instinct often tells us to retreat, as quickly as possible, back into familiar patterns and territory. But that doesn't create growth. Growth occurs when we dig in and push through our fear, trusting ourselves, and trusting that everything is going to be okay. 

I am so grateful to my mind and body for being able to find release and clarity in exercise. I think that when I push my body, these matters weighing on my mind rise up and must be released just like any other energy. Sometimes it's painful - I have found myself in tears mid-run. But, you know what? If you can do a 10 mile run and cry for the first 5 miles, then you're going to be tougher after that. I certainly felt a lot stronger, physically and emotionally, after that release. 

My pink Vibrams after a muddy trail run.

Of course, I don't always find clear answers to all my problems just by going for a run or a swim. Problem solving is not so simple. What I have found, however, is that often the answers are already there in your heart, and if you run, bike, swim, etc....hard enough to make your brain stop its never-ending dialogue (or diatribe), then you can hear the voice coming from your heart. That's when you know it's all going to be okay.

Summer Solstice

My Dad instilled in me years ago a tradition of spending every possible waking moment of the summer solstice outdoors. I am so grateful for this, along with many other values he has taught me. Yesterday, I had a goal of "boycotting the indoors," by literally not going inside between sunup and sundown. I did not achieve my goal, but I had a perfect day nonetheless, and I wanted to share my experiences.

4:15am: Jenny's alarm went off. Jenny and Dee and I were all sleeping in Dee's gigantic bed. I am middle spoon because it seems that I sleep flat on my back and do not move during the night. I believe Dee and Jenny each gave some sort of groan in response to the alarm. I should also mention here that we had stayed up until 1am the night before, talking until our eyes would no longer stay open. Somehow, for me, my excitement level at 4:15am was about the same as on Christmas morning, so I hopped out of bed and started getting ready. I went outside to get some warm layers from my car, and the still, quiet, grayness of first light brought back memories of biking in the mornings with my dad in Pennsylvania. In my memory, I heard the snap of bike cleats clipping into pedals and the whir of wheels spinning on an empty road.

4:42am: Dee and Jenny both rallied and we sat in the kitchen while Dee made us some coffee for the road. Dee had offered to take Jenny and me to a special rock that has a 360 degree view of the mountains and Central Oregon. It consisted of a short drive and a 1-2 mile hike. We knew sun would rise at 5:22am.

5:08am: We chugged our coffee on the short drive to the trail and hopped out of the car knowing that we were pressed to make it to the viewpoint in time to catch the sun. Dee, in the lead, took off running. Reluctantly, I followed suit, and Jenny followed behind me. The coffee and lack of sleep were battling to dominate my motivation.

5:22am: We made it to the overlook just in the nick of time. My glasses were fogged up, but I could see the orange stripe on the horizon without them. Fortunately, I cooled down enough to put them back on as the sun rose in the east precisely on schedule. We cheered the sun, snapped photos of the pink mountains, laughed, and shifted some loose boulders (yikes!).

6:30am: Once we got too cold, he hiked back to the car. We drove through various parking lots along Whychus Creek looking for our friend Corey, who we thought might be camped out in the area. We stopped at Ray's for some blueberries to make blueberry pancakes, but the computers were down at the checkout stations, so the manager gave us the blueberries for free! Then we stopped at Sisters Bakery to indulge in some fresh pastries. YUM!

9:11am: After working on my apple fritter until I couldn't eat another bite, I warmed up in Dee's hot tub and then took a nap. The 3 hours of sleep and coffee/sugar combo was just not working for me. Jenny also crawled into her new sleeping bag on Dee's living room floor and passed out for a bit. 

9:56am: We woke up feeling refreshed and set out on mountain bikes with a map of Peterson's Ridge, sunscreen, and plenty of snacks and water. Dee and her son Zane headed off for Hood River in search of some rocks to climb. 

3:00pm: Jenny and I returned to Dee's house with tired legs and sore sit-bones. We had a superb, bluebird day on the trail and look forward to heading back there in our running gear!


4:30pm: Jenny had been planning on a 2-hour yoga class for the solstice (108 sun salutations) and I had a softball game at 5:30, but sitting outside with our books was feeling very tempting. However, we both decided to rally back to Bend, and we were glad we did it. Jenny had a powerful class that raised money for a great cause. My softball team, the Masterbatters, dominated our opponent 24-2. 


8:00pm: Jenny and I reunited at the base of Pilot Butte for one last hike for the day. We wanted to catch the sun set from the top of the butte at 8:53pm. Our legs were feeling fatigued, but our spirits were high. We watched the sky shift through shades of hot pink and orange behind Mt. Washington. It was beautiful, and we enjoyed seeing the sun and the mountains from a different perspective than we had that morning. We talked about what a beautiful paradise Central Oregon is, and how grateful we are to be living here!


10:00pm: I returned to Travis and Kellie's, we exchanged our stories from the day, and then we all turned in for the night. I slept so well, I am not even sure I had dreams. 


I am so grateful to have celebrated the solstice so fully, with such great people, and in such a wonderful place! I am feeling full of love, gratitude, and happiness! 


Here are a few photos from the sunrise, before I broke my camera:

Three Sisters at sunrise

Mt. Jefferson peeking out from behind Black Butte

Tam McArthur Rim and Broken Top

Here comes the sun/do-do do-do

Cleanse

Lately, I've been focusing my time and energy on taking care of myself and surrounding myself with good friends. I have been pursuing some job leads, including an interview....and then a second interview with a law firm in Bend. The reality of potentially returning to the nine-to-five world, and everything that working at a busy law firm entails, hit me like a swift kick in the gut. It's not a bad thing, but suddenly my freedom has significantly increased in value. So, I am savoring every second of it by spending my time outdoors, going to yoga, and checking things off my "I want to go explore this" list. Life is short.


Two weeks ago, at an inversion workshop at the local yoga studio, I tweaked a muscle in the middle of my back while doing a tripod headstand with splits. Ouch! Luckily, my friend Jenny, who is a massage therapist, saw the pain cross my face and did a little work on it in the parking lot. It felt much better at the time, but soon tightened up to the point that it hurt to do anything but lie flat on my back. Then Dee came to the rescue and spent 4 days with me out in the Steens Mountains and Hart Mountain National Antelope Refuge. Most of those 4 days were spent in various hot springs, though we took breaks to hike and look for wildflowers, sip wine, and cook delicious meals. It was a beautifully desolate land; it felt like we were on another planet, which was something we both needed at that moment. I found that when I was not sitting in a hot spring, I tended to be laying on my back staring at the sky, or laying on my stomach inspecting wildflowers. I returned to Bend feeling cleansed and refreshed, though my back was still sore.

Steens Mountains and Alvord Desert

The biggest, loveliest full moon I have ever seen.

wildflower near Hart Mtn.

 I continued on the cleansing theme with a 24-hour green juice cleanse. I made my own juice with Travis and Kellie's juicer, using romaine lettuce, chard, kale, fennel, ginger, lemon, pear, broccoli, cucumber, and celery. YUM! Although I had an active day of mountain biking and then climbing, I never felt hungry. I drank quite a bit of juice and felt that I could have kept going for a second day, but I was low on ingredients and my yogurt and cherries were speaking to me from the fridge the next morning. 

Ingredients.

My body was grateful, feeling light and energized. I continued spoiling myself with morning runs in Shevlin, midday swims in the sun at Juniper, and plenty of yoga and bike rides. I went to see Jenny at her office on Wednesday afternoon, where I dozed off and may had drooled a little as she worked out my back. I felt like I could do backflips after she was done! This feeling continued into Thursday, and I don't think I have ever felt so much like a fish in the pool. My back felt like liquid, and what was meant to be a short swim went for almost an hour nonstop.

I had been thinking that I would abstain from racing triathlons this year, mainly to save money, but also because I was getting such a late start on training. Recently, however, I have been having second thoughts ("one little triathlon wouldn't be so bad...."). I may end up signing up for the Deschutes Dash at the last minute, though my sights are truly set on ultra trail running and a full iron man in the next year or two.

Katy and me atop McKenzie Pass, one of my favorite rides in Oregon.

Things seem to be falling into place, for better or for worse. I have been valuing my "girls' nights," which usually involve Dee and Jenny, Dee's kitchen table, 2-5 dogs, and a bottle of wine or two. I have been spending most of my time in Bend at Travis and Kellie's, though I promise, Smith Rock, I haven't forgotten you....


Most of all, I have finally been learning to focus on the present moment and enjoy it to its fullest, by treating my body well, honoring myself, and showing gratitude. I will need this lesson when I re-enter the working world, whenever that may be.

Spinning Wheels

Over the past 5 weeks, since returning from Thailand, I have been slowly transitioning from a traditional "working a 9 to 5 and living in a house" lifestyle to "unemployed and living out of my car and tent." It's been frustratingly difficult to adjust and find the balance between embracing my new freedom and developing some sort of structure and routine.

Some of the minor luxuries I am learning to live without include: staying in to bake banana bread, purchasing yummy perishables like cheese and yogurt, reading on the couch, and one of my favorites, taking long, multi-hour naps. It seems these things just don't happen when you live out of a Honda Accord.

Even more difficult has been trying to find the balance between climbing, learning to highline, and triathlon training. Throw in a passion for bike touring, backpacking, and mountain climbing, and I am spinning my wheels in all directions. I know, you're probably asking, "And this is a problem because....?" Hell, I ask myself the same question. I should be so lucky to have too many fun activities and goals. Yet, I find myself both restless and paralyzed at times, and then I accomplish nothing. Other days, I try to do it all and drive myself to exhaustion. And then we're back to the lack of an adequate napping location.


Last summer, I raced almost every weekend from June to August, and I was in the best cardio/endurance shape of my life. I want to get back there. No, actually, I want to go beyond, into the realm of iron man and ultra marathons. But.....I am also climbing harder than I ever have before, and I want to keep pushing myself and developing my strength and technique in all styles. But.....I am finally seeing myself improve on the slackline and I'm craving my first step on a highline. I know that the best way to achieve this is to just get out there and do it, over and over again. But......I have been tuning up my touring bike and dreaming of Eastern Oregon as well as Highway 1 South. And South America. Crap!

Why can't I be one of those people with one singular passion? No, no....that's never been my style.


Gosh, life is hard.

It's okay, I expect no sympathy. But, can someone please develop a schedule for me that includes a healthy dose all of these activities? And please, leave some room for spontaneity and adventure........
 

Frogs and Jumps

The monkeys have just wrapped up a brief excursion to Koh Phi Phi and Tonsai/Railey, aboard our favorite mode of transportation, the pirate ship Dragon Heart. It seemed that not only were the monkeys reluctant to leave the low-key atmosphere of Koh Yao Noi, but we were equally hesitant to enter upon known tourism hotspots. But alas, the prospect of clear waters, snorkeling and abundant climbing won out and we set off to investigate some new areas.

Phi Phi is gorgeous. Upon arriving, we immediately donned snorkeling goggles and flippers and jumped overboard to explore. There was deep water soloing above water and an assortment of colorful fish down below. When then sky grew pink and our bellies rumbled with hunger, we ventured into the harbor and took a long tail boat to the beach. The town was quite a shocking difference from what we had experienced at Yao Noi, bustling with tourists and large restaurants. We finally selected a place with decent prices, but very little Thai food on the extensive menu. Rather, options included everything from onion rings, to spaghetti and pizza. I opted for something safe - shrimp and rice in a pineapple bowl. It wasn't bad. After dinner, we maneuvered through a maze of souvenir shops and retreated back to the boat. The rest of Phi Phi seemed to just be waking up for the night, but we were falling asleep after a long, active day.

Next morning, while some headed back to town for errands, Brian, Luke-mon and I explored the coral reef nearby. I loved snorkeling! It was one of the most fun, fascinating things I have ever done. I can't convey how many different colors and patterns I saw. I even found "Nemo" - and they are curious little fish that aren't afraid to swim right up to your snorkeling mask! So cool. I also saw some black and white striped water snakes that shyly peeked out of the reef, but didn't linger in view. I was definitely inspired to paint some more batik!

That evening, we moved on to Tonsai and arrived around sunset. We took a long tail to shore again to check it out and find some grub. It was more laid-back than I was expecting, though still crowded with foreigners. Again, it was difficult to find true Thai food on the menu, and I opted for something safe in light of "Tonsai tummy" stories I had heard. After a yummy meal, we explored the little beach village, and ended up spending most of the evening playing on slacklines that are set up there. We came up with a ridiculously fun game, involving many people on a line at the same time, trying to race each other and knock each other off the line.  I ended up drenched in sweat and with sore abs from too much laughing.

We woke with the sun the next morning and packed up for a full day at the beach. As I was down below the deck of the ship, packing my bag, I noticed something move in the bottom of my pack. My stomach turned. It was a large enough movement that it had to be some sort of rodent or large spider. I tenderly closed my pack and took it up to the deck, where I opened it up and turned it upside down in full view. To my relief, it was only a big, fat toad! I have no idea how it got in my pack or how long in had been stowed in there, because I have been incredibly careful about keeping my pack closed so I wouldn't be surprised with a spider or some other critter hitching a ride. This toad was no prince, so I tossed him overboard and re-packed my bag.

Andy and Scott loaded their base jumping gear, and did about 6 or 7 jumps off Tonsai tower. The rest of us climbed some pitches in the morning and then relaxed during the heat of the day, lounging and watching Andy and Scott jump from a tower above us and land on the beach next to us. I had never seen anyone base jump before, so it was awesome to witness my friends doing it in such close proximity and to be able to give them a fist bump when they landed! 

In the afternoon, Brian, Jared and I hiked to another climbing area, near a cave. It was an adventurous hike, through some shallow water around a rock outcropping, down a beach, through an endless maze of a resort, past some monkeys, down another beach, through a patch of jungle, and up a sketchy bamboo ladder to a deserted climbing area (which is almost unheard of in Tonsai). However, on our return, we took a different and more interesting route back. Around sunset, we entered a giant cave that was just coming alive with bats. The cave was essentially a giant, hollowed out tower. We climbed several bamboo ladders, used fixed ropes, and scrambled through the dusty darkness, pausing to turn off our headlamps and listen to the eerie sounds inside the cave. The air was stuffy and hot. We heard bats and insects...but not much else. It was a strange and exciting place. Eventually, we reached an opening on the other side of the tower, where we rapped down in the last light of the day, and then precariously made our way through the dark jungle back down to Railey beach. We crossed the beach, found a trail and hiked through another patch of jungle, and finally arrived back at Tonsai, exhausted, sweaty and thirsty. I was grateful to Jared for taking us on such a fun and unique adventure, particularly in a place that tends to be overrun with tourists!

We headed back to Yoa Noi the next day, because about half the group will be departing Thailand tomorrow. It's a transitional and a bittersweet time. Our group, and therefore the epic projects, will dwindle, but I am glad that I still have another week with Brian, Jared, and Preston, and then about 2 more weeks with just Brian. We don't have any solid plans yet, though Brian and I have both expressed an interest in checking out Chiang Mai in the north. I am sure that as long as the Aldens are around, the epic-ness will abound, and I continue to welcome new experiences and adventures!

The crew on the pirate ship Dragon Heart.

Ryan "got" Scott in Tonsai (Scott now has to do a push-up)

Preston and Brian playing on the slacklines in Tonsai

Tonsai

Scott (left) and Andy (right) base jumping of Tonsai tower

Mai Pen Rai

Mai pen rai = All is well.

We, a group of about 10, just returned from 6 days at sea aboard the Dragon Heart pirate ship. We spent our time traveling from island to island, scouting for prime deep water soloing and highlining. We slept on the boat and ate family-style traditional thai meals. We got rained on most nights, but it was usually in the form of a brief but torrential storm, and it always calmed and cleared by the time we went to bed. 

The first couple of days were spent anchored outside an island with a cave. We boarded kayaks and paddled into the cave to discover that it opened into a huge cavern with an open ceiling. As we continued paddling, we discovered there were more of these caverns inside caverns inside caverns. It was truly magical, and perhaps the most special part was that you can only access these inner caverns when the tide is just right. If the tide is too low, it's just mucky, sticky mud, and if the tide is too high, you can't get the kayak through the cave. On top of this, the water has bioluminescence, which lights up neon, glowing in the dark when the water is disturbed. So, if you swim at night, the water glows around you....and if you are swimming in a cave, you can still find your kayak because it is outlined in neon where the boat touches the water!

The group rigged several slacklines, one rope swing, and one zipline inside the first cavern, and to our surprise, hundreds of tourists in kayaks started coming through the cave during the middle of the day. It was hilarious and bizarre to watch European tourists, most of whom were overweight, lounging kayaks being paddled by petite Thai men, but I think they found us pretty entertaining, especially when we erupted in monkey noises at their approach. 

We moved on to another couple of islands, containing both a tower and stalactites galore for climbing, as well as another cave, where a highline was rigged and sea shells were collected.  Because we moved north toward the river delta, the water was murky and we were unable to spot the abundance of jellyfish lurking below. Jared was the first victim....he got stung pretty badly on his knee while deep water soloing. Andy rushed to his rescue, offering to pee on Jared's leg, but unfortunately Andy was fairly dehydrated and only a trickle came out. Preston, Jared's brother, got stung the very next day, and his screams were agonizing! He declined offers of urine on his wound. Then, yesterday, I got stung while swimming back to the boat after deep water soloing. My sting wasn't as bad, but I definitely screamed loud enough that the others knew what had happened. Andy offered to pee on my leg, but instead I opted for the Thai method of vinegar and tobacco. It burned for awhile, but it's fine now.

I have been working on my chongo start but I have yet to stand up on a waterline. I helped Hayley rig a mid-line and took a few attempts. I've made some baby steps, and I am so psyched to walk my first line!

The group is pretty banged up, but doing well. We are covered in scratches and bruises and are taking a much-needed rest day before raging to Koh Phi Phi or perhaps Tonsai. No plans yet, but things seem to work out better that way....

Coconut juice...yum!

A couple of monkey pirates

Dragon fruit

slackline using the pirate boat and a stalactite as anchors

Welcome to the Monkey House

My plan was to do a short post with several photos to illustrate the Thailand adventure thus far. Unfortunately, the internet is extremely slow, and it took way too long to upload just this one photo.

Monkeys island hopping on a longboat.

This sums things up pretty well.

I will say this: Thailand is an amazing paradise. We've been here almost a week, and this place blows my mind every day. We've spent 2 days on a longboat (a big, motorized canoe), rigging water lines, highlines, space achors, kayaking, deep water soloing, followed by 2 days rigging and walking a highline attached to a stalactite high over the bay (I spent one of those days yoga-ing, biking, and beaching). From our ledge up on the limestone wall, we could see giant jellyfish drifting in the water far below, and we looked down on Thailand's bald eagle circling for fish. 

And the food! I have never tasted such fresh, flavorful food in my life. And each meal costs between 1 and 3 US dollars. Noodles and curry for breakfast? Yes, please. Mango and sticky rice? Sure, why not. Coconut water straight from the coconut? Mmmm-mmm....

Today, we took a rest day and did "batik." It's an art craft where you drip wax in a design on cloth, then use ink to paint your design. After a day of drying, the wax is cleaned off, leaving white lines where the wax once was. About 6 of us made individual designs, and we collaborated on a pirate flag. Why a pirate flag, you ask? Yarr, because we're chartering a pirate ship of course! That's right, we are spending 5 days looting the bay and searching for treasure. Actually, we are going to ride around and explore islands for highlining and climbing potential, camping on beaches, kayaking, swimming, and generally acting like monkeys!

And with that, I am off to the beach! Until next time, mateys..........

Planes, Trains, Boats and Buses...

And feet! Yesterday, Brian and I flew from PDX to Vancouver, BC, where we had a 2-day layover before continuing on to Thailand. The reason for the long layover is an even longer story, but suffice it to say that we booked our trip through cheaptickets.com, and...well, you get what you pay for, right? Lucky for us, Brian's friend Thomas lives in North Vancouver, and he was happy to host us.

The flight from Portland to Vancouver was a short one, and after being thoroughly interrogated by the customs agent, B and I retrieved our gear and made our way via train, boat and bus across the city to Thomas' house on a typically rainy day. We spent the afternoon exploring on foot and then met Thomas for some sushi. Thomas is an exceptionally talented musician, (Brian says, "He serenades my soul," which is a pretty accurate description of the effect of his voice), and we had the pleasure of hearing him play guitar and sing as we lounged last night in our sushi-induced food comas.

This morning we awoke to a beautiful bluebird day and of course, you can't let a sunny day go to waste in the Pacific Northwest. Brian and I walked to Lynn Valley Regional Park, which contains dense temperate rainforest, waterfalls and a suspension bridge dating back to 1912, with a backdrop of steep, snow-capped mountains. Gorgeous. 

On our way home, we stopped for some dinner and snacks for tomorrow's long day of traveling. After a debacle on the bulk foods aisle that resulted in $22 worth of mixed nuts, I'd say we're well-prepared for the next leg of our journey. 

On the suspension bridge over Lynn Valley Canyon

playing with water

30 foot pool

looking over the edge of the pipeline bridge

 

Movement

Transition. I am in a state of transition. Isn't everyone? Aren't we always? Things are constantly changing, and that's the challenge of life: continually finding a balance, trying to keep your feet on solid ground in the ebb and flow, the up and down that is life. Well, for me, it feels like almost nothing in my life is solid. 

I don't have a job, and I don't know what I want to do to earn money and pay my bills. I guess you could say I am a bit "lost." I do have some extremely vague ideas and they are this: (1) I don't think I want to practice law anymore, at least not in the private realm (I did enjoy public defense, and I think I would enjoy working for the government or non-profit); (2) Most of my thoughts on "earning income and being happy at the same time" lead to ideas and dreams of owning my own business.....and that is terrifying for many reasons, though not an inconceivable goal. 

I am also in the process of moving out of my room that I have rented for the past 10 months or so. Where am I moving, you ask? Well, nowhere. Okay, not exactly nowhere. I am moving my possessions to a friend's house for storage for about 2 months while I am in Thailand (Yes! Thailand! Exciting!). When I return from Thailand, life will be one gigantic question mark. For a girl who spent the first 26 years of her life in school, followed by 2 years of working hard as a lawyer, this is unsettling to say the least. I read this statement recently, and it sums up very well what I am feeling: "There is the excitement of open possibility and new beginnings alongside the fear of the unknown, and the removal of the old boundaries and rules of living."

Lately, I have been feeling very vulnerable around all of this uncertainty (freedom?). I have found myself feeling sad, irritable and restless without really understanding why. I was putting up walls and alienating my boyfriend, unintentionally causing pain to both of us. I decided to take some time to myself over the past few days to process and release the emotions and energy I was feeling and to try to find my inner balance once again. I ended up spending a lot of time talking to some of my girl friends - laughing, crying, hugging and generally losing track of time. It was everything that I needed, and I found that during times like this, when the ground below your feet just won't stay still, you can keep your feet grounded on the love and support of your friends. I am so grateful to have friends with whom I can be completely honest and open, with whom I can share my deepest fears and insecurities, and they will not judge me, but they will support me. Last night I came home from dinner with some friends, and I felt so full of love and gratitude, I wanted to burst. 

I don't know if I have quite found my balance yet, but I have taken some positive steps. I have written my intention on the refrigerator: "I trust that my body and my heart can deal with the size of what I am feeling." I am working on remaining calm as I allow my emotions to work themselves out, and I am not allowing my mind to become over-active with analysis or judgment of what I am feeling. I know that I am loved, and with that, I trust in myself and know that "All is well."

32 Days on the Road

A few days ago, I returned home to Bend from a month-long road trip through California. This was initially intended as a two week trip to Joshua Tree National Park, but as we worked our way up the California coast, monitoring the weather reports in Oregon, we couldn't come up with a good reason to hurry home. So, we decided to go to Yosemite instead. And once you're in Yosemite, you're only about an hour from Bishop, where climbing abounds at the base of the Sierra Nevada mountains and the temperatures were prime. The following is a (not so) brief summary of our adventures!


Brian and I left for Joshua Tree on the day after Christmas and headed to San Francisco to pick up some German highliners that Brian had met in Moab last November. I was feeling excited to be on the road, out of town, heading to warmer weather and new places, looking forward to meeting new friends. This was my first visit to San Francisco, and even though it was a short stop, we managed to spend a morning walking around Haight/Ashbury while the Germans (they do have names: Lukas, Alex, and Christian) packed up their gear. Don't ask me how we crammed five people plus two weeks work of camping stuff, gear, and food into Brian's Honda Element. I don't know how it happened, but I soon found myself sitting in the front passenger's seat, holding my backpack in my lap, surprisingly comfortable, watching the San Fran suburbs pass by as we headed toward I-5 South. 


We arrived in Joshua Tree early the next morning, greeted by blazing hot sunshine, bluebird skies, and a Martian landscape dotted with boulder piles and trees that look like they escaped from a Dr. Seuss book. It's absolutely gorgeous. The main purpose of the Joshua Tree trip was highlining (and for Brian, filming). There were a lot of highliners converging on Joshua Tree at the time we arrived and herds of climbers spending the New Year holiday there. 

Joshua Tree National Park

I learned quickly that hanging out with highliners (at least in Joshua Tree) involves a lot of rock scrambling, sometimes in exposed or high places, and I realized that I did not have the experience that Brian and the others had. Where they ran up a slab, I would crawl up halfway, look down, try not to panic, sometimes panic anyway, and then take many deep breaths and ever so slowly work my way to the top. I also slid down the coarse, slabby granite wherever possible, which resulted in the seat of every pair of pants I brought with me getting worn through. I hit a sharp learning curve at the Space Station, which Brian and I climbed up to on our second day there. The Space Station is a large dish in the side of a rock face that overlooks the Hidden Valley camping area. To get there, you have to chimney up a large crack, then walk horizontally across a ledge, then down climb and either crawl through a hole or step around the outside of the dish to get inside. No rope or harness. Once you're inside, it's perfectly safe. I, who had never chimneyed nor down climbed, started feeling my heart race as I scooted across the exposed ledge. During the down-climb, tears were streaming down my face. I squeezed through the hole and eventually calmed down....it was a nice view, but I was just thinking about the exit and how I hoped that would go a little easier. I'll admit I wasn't very good company in the Space Station. I was congratulated on pushing through my fear, but at the time, I wasn't sure whether pushing through was due to toughness or unreasonable stubbornness. Either way, I did make it back down, and it went slightly more smoothly, though the exposed ledge still freaked me out. I wasn't proud of myself at the time, but looking back, I realize it was just too soon for me to attempt something like that. I think if I had gone up to the Space Station later in the trip, I would have been fine, but for me, it was not a good situation for learning to scramble and down climb. Over the next ten days, the growing pains subsided, and I became increasingly comfortable. Later in the trip, in Yosemite, I felt totally calm and comfortable rappelling down to a ledge across from Lost Arrow Spire, approximately 3,000 feet off the Valley floor, and I felt no fear learning to boulder for the first time in Bishop. All in all, I learned and I grew, and that's the most important thing.

Brian took this photo of me in the Space Station. I wouldn't look at the camera since my face was puffy and tear-streaked.

All smiles in front of Lost Arrow Spire, Yosemite National Park (Photo by Brian Mosbaugh).

The ten or so days in Joshua Tree were spent rigging highlines at different areas of the park. My level of participation included hiking to these areas, helping to carry gear, and hanging out laying in the sun, napping or reading. I did scoot out on a 90 foot highline, just to feel the exposure. It's a crazy feeling when both of your feet are dangling high above the ground. I have not yet mastered the "chongo" start, where you scoot out on the line and essentially get your legs under you and stand up without losing your balance, so I wasn't walking any highlines in Joshua Tree. I did go running one day, on what I thought would be a 5 or 6 mile run and turned out to be more like 9 and a half. It felt good to really be moving and I savored the time inside my own head. 

Eventually it was time to move on, and we said goodbye to our new (and old) friends, making tentative plans to see them again soon. After a stop for some mediocre burritos (proximity to Mexico is not indicative of quality of Mexican food) and a dip in the local hot springs, we migrated west to visit our friend Dave in Pasadena. The guys wanted to rig a couple highlines in that area, and I was looking forward to seeing my childhood friend Rachael. It was refreshing to take a hot shower and actually blow dry my hair (small luxuries), have some "girl" time, go out to breakfast, and explore LA a little bit. The visit was short but wonderful, and before long, I was back in the car with the guys, heading north.


Our next stop was San Luis Obispo. The guys rigged a highline in a beautiful area along the coast, directly over the ocean. Interestingly, there was also a nude beach down below. Appallingly, the area where the highline is located has become a nighttime rendezvous for people to party, do drugs, and who knows what else. In addition, creepy people go up there with binoculars to spy on the nude sunbathers down below. I have no idea why they feel the need to view the scene through binoculars rather than just hiking down to the beach to have a look. After hiking around briefly and noticing broken glass, several pairs of boxer briefs littered about, and one muddy snakeskin cowboy boot, I decided that I did not like the energy of the place and I decided to go spend the day down at Avila Beach (a different, clothed beach). It's sad that such a beautiful place was trashed by humans, but it's not the first nor the last place on our trip where we witnessed such a lack of respect.


After a night in San Luis Obispo, we returned to San Francisco and took Lukas, Alex and Christian to the airport for their return to Germany. Brian and I found ourselves once again on our own and traveling in a more spacious vehicle. We spent the night relaxing in a friend's apartment, sharing some wine and watching a few episodes of Lost (another first for me!). The next morning, I got up and went running in Golden Gate Park, which is just a block or two from our friend's apartment. Once again I intended on going for a short run, but it was such a beautiful morning that I didn't want to stop, and I ended up going about 8 miles. I took a nice, hot shower and Brian and I ate breakfast at an outdoor table at a vegan restaurant called Herbivore (yum!). We spent the day walking up and down the hills of the city, looking down the curves of Lombard Street, sharing a decadent sundae at Ghirardelli, and snapping some photos of Alcatraz and the Golden Gate bridge. We realized at that point that we could either drive up the coast and make our way back to Bend or head a couple hours east to Yosemite. Neither of us felt a need to hurry back to Bend, and the weather had just been so nice in California, so we decided to extend our trip just a bit longer and head to Yosemite. 


We left the city that night and drove to Yosemite, but we pulled over and slept in the car about a half an hour outside the park. The next morning, we woke before dawn, hoping to make it into the park before it opened, thereby avoiding the $25-30 entry fee. Brian never drives even slightly over the speed limit for any reason, so we reached the park entrance at 7:04am. The light was on in the booth and the sign said "Open," but the blinds were still closed. We held our breath. We saw the park ranger begin walking toward the booth. Brian paused at the entrance stop sign, coming to a complete stop, but then immediately accelerating again. I avoided eye contact with the ranger, but Brian exchanged a look with her and said she was smiling in a "you got away this time" kind of way. Whew! We made it into the park without paying and better yet, we got to the first viewpoint of the Valley right at sunrise. The first glimpse of El Cap, Half Dome and the rest of the Valley is so exciting, so beautiful, it takes my breath away. I hope to go to Yosemite again and again in my life, and I hope that first view always has that effect on me. We made our way to Camp 4, which was as empty and cold as a refrigerator box. There was no snow there or anywhere in the Sierras (even on Mount Shasta!), which was so strange, but at least all of park was accessible. That first afternoon in Yosemite, Brian and I hiked up to the top of Yosemite Falls, and then over to Yosemite Point and Lost Arrow Spire. The falls were frozen over each morning, with just a trickle of water coming down, but increased to a rush of water each afternoon as the sun warmed it. Brian and I rappelled down to the ledge across from the Spire and hung out, watching the Valley below as the sun dipped behind the ridge. This was Thursday, and on Saturday morning, our friend Tyler came down from Bend to join us in some adventures. He is a photographer and Patagonia is one of his clients, so he brought a bag of Patagonia clothes for us to wear during his stay. It was wonderful to have new clothes to put on, more warmth in fewer layers, and I enjoyed wearing color coordinated bottom layers, down jacket and hat. It's the small things, right?

Yosemite Falls

Having fun in Yosemite (photo by Brian Mosbaugh)

We also got together with Brian's friend Braden, who grew up in Yosemite and was in the area for the weekend. Brian and Braden spent two days rigging the highline at the Rostrum, as well as doing some filming and experimenting with a pulley system that Braden has developed for filming unique overhead angles. I practiced stepping out on the highline because this was one that did not require scooting out and doing a chongo start. Brian held my hand as I stepped out over the abyss, and I took a few steps and just tried to balance. There was a fun, easy trad route nearby as well, so after Brian showed me the basics on placing gear, I led my first trad climb. It was a short, but really fun climb. I also top-roped another easy route, but instead of practicing my hand jams, which was the purpose of the climb, I somehow smeared my way up the no-hold face. I guess this crack climbing stuff doesn't come so naturally to me, but oh well, I love that Yosemite granite makes it possible to, "when it doubt, smear."


Over the next week, Brian, Tyler and I hiked among some Giant Sequoias at Mariposa Grove and rigged another highline at Taft Point. We had been hearing some rumors about ice-skating at Tanaya Lake, which is located at about 10,000 feet elevation in Tuolomne Meadows. Braden also informed us that the skating rink at Curry Village in the Valley was selling their old rentals. We went to examine the mostly picked-over rentals, and since there were no pairs left, we settled on a men's size 7.5 skate and a women's size 8 skate. Close enough....and at least both had laces. We knew the forecasters were calling for a snow storm at the end of the week, so we headed up to the lake before the storm hit and closed off access. We were pretty excited - it was said that conditions had now allowed for high elevation alpine lake skating since the 1930's (usually this area would be buried under many feet of snow) - so we knew this was a unique opportunity. There was no camping up at Tuolomne, so we decided to exit the park, camp in the national forest, and return the next morning to skate. The sun set as we reached Tuolomne, but we stopped to check out the vast frozen lake in the dark. It's a huge lake. And it was frozen over with a thick layer of ice, probably about a foot thick. As we stepped out onto the lake, we could hear the ice shifting below us and feel its vibrations in our feet. It was so eerie, yet beautiful. The noise of the ice was like the noises that whales make below the surface of the water. And the vibrations made it feel like an ancient sea monster was moving below us. So amazing! The temperature had dropped with the sun and the winds were beginning to rip, so we moved on, a few miles up the road and out of the park. That night, we didn't even get out of the car because it was so cold. We skipped dinner, risked a bear break-in, and buried ourselves in our sleeping bags. In the morning, it was no less cold and perhaps windier. We headed for the park, only to find that the Tuolomne park entrance had been closed behind us! No worries, there was another, smaller alpine lake on our side of the gate. We spent a half a day at Tioga Lake, Brian and I each taking a spin on the skates and Tyler photographing. It was bitterly cold, and the winds were tearing the clouds to shreds. 

Brian skating on Tioga Lake, elev. around 9,000 feet (Yosemite National Park)

After a morning of ice skating, we moved on, having decided to go down and spend a few days in Bishop, California, which is about an hour from Tuolomne. During our ice skating session, the Forest Service had come through and locked a gate down below us, blocking access to the pass, and also trapping us between the National Forest gate and the National Park gate. As Brian and Tyler pondered the consequences of breaking the lock, I chased down a car and asked the passengers to call the forest service and let them know we were stuck. That was unnecessary, however, because a Park Service truck pulled up at that moment and offered to set us free. They smiled and shook their heads, muttering something about the Forest Service not doing their job and checking the area before closing the gate. Good thing we didn't break that lock....

We attempted to stop for a late breakfast in Mono Lake, but apparently that town shuts down on Tuesdays and Wednesdays (and this was a Wednesday). So, we held on until we got to Bishop, and enjoyed a delicious meal at Jack's before going bouldering at the Happies. What an incredible day, which began with ice skating in bitterly cold wind and ended with playing on boulders in t-shirts and watching the sky change from hot pink to orange to blue as the sun sank behind Mount Tom. The next day we went to boulder at the Buttermilks, and it's a good thing we did, because the ridiculous winds we had been experiencing made their way south and east. Just about the time we started to get tired, the clouds rolled in and the winds gusted, blowing dust in our eyes. Tyler had to head north that night, so we said farewell, and Brian and I retreated back to the pit to camp. 


The weather was iffy over the next few days, so we passed the time at hot springs, the local used gear shop, setting up a slackline at the park and watching movies in the car. We also randomly ran into Brian's friend Preston, who works for the State of California, tracking foxes in the Sierras. It was a funny rendezvous, because Brian and I had pulled over to check out a strange monument outside of the Bishop gun club. The monument is to some men who were escaped convicts, who were then captured and hanged by local residents. The monument is called "The Lynching of the Convicts." It's really strange. Anyway, we pulled back onto the highway, and then saw Preston driving next to us. We pulled over and Preston told us that he had recognized Brian's car but was confused as to why it was pulling out of the gun club. We spent the next few days with Preston, though the weather didn't permit climbing. Instead, we bought a 5-pound bag of gummy bears at the Smart&Final and played Slap Jack in the car. It may just be that I was cracked out on sugar, but I thought it was really, really fun.


Finally, the weather improved and we got to climb! The Buttermilks had been buried in snow, so we spent two days bouldering at the Happies and one full day at Owen's River Gorge. I had never bouldered before, and I loved it. You can climb as mellow or as hard as you want, and we did both. Brian taught me some bouldering technique and I got the hang of a few moves on some overhanging rock. Owen's River Gorge is awesome. I think it's beautiful, even with the power lines and random decrepit building. It was my first time sport climbing outside of Smith, and I loved learning a new style on different rock. I led the first pitch and made it up above the last bolt before I got a little confused on the moves and too pumped to hold on while I figured it out. I took a small whip, recovered, and made the last couple moves to the anchors. We climbed until dark, then hiked out and camped near the gorge. In the morning, we found the camping area to be littered with remnants of redneck activities: hundreds of empty shot gun cartridges (and a few live rounds), targets, skeets, rusted tin cans full of holes, and beer cans. We contemplated arranging the trash to leave a nasty message, but decided that then we would be stooping to their level. Instead we got some satisfaction cutting open the live rounds (just to be on the safe side) and pouring out the little metal bullets, and then we filled up about 3 and a half grocery bags and hauled the trash to a dumpster. 

Owens River Gorge

Home Sweet Home.

Evidence of rednecks.

The weather in Bishop was gorgeous and the forecast indicated that it was just going to keep getting better. Brian and I had the "well.....I probably don't really need to get back quite yet" conversation. We kept pushing our return date back, and probably would have continued to do so for a few more days, but we called our friend Corey, who was getting ready to move to Utah to work as an adventure guide. We realized that we were quickly running out of days to see Corey before he left, so we said goodbye to Bishop and the East Sierras and made our way north again. We stopped at one last hot spring, called The Crab Cooker, and it was a great way to wrap up the trip. It is a small pool, 4 to 5 people tops, with adjustable hot and cold pipes, and an excellent view of the Sierras, which, by the time we left, were covered with a layer of snow. 

Brian and me, soaking in some hot springs on our last day in the East Sierras.