In the cold morning, we motivated quickly so that we could all warm up a bit. Down the trail a ways we ran into three hikers (two thru-hikers and one section hiker) and stopped to chat with them. Jim from Livingston, MT mentioned he was low on food, so Aaron lightened our packs and gave him some of our dehydrated food and couscous. They said that they were hanging in there, but they did not seem overjoyed about the trail in Montana. The section we were doing was unusual, in that the trail was good and the route was scenic. We felt lucky to be on one of the best sections and it made the first day well worth it. After climbing up past Lena Lake, we made our way to the Slag-a-Melt Lakes and took a break. There was a quiet, calm deer that checked us out and we got a few nice pictures of her. The climb above Slag-a-Melt was very nice and we made our way up to another saddle with awesome views. We continued into a bowl with huge peaks on either side and a short traverse around a really steep section. Then, we regained all the altitude we had lost, climbed again, and reached the Divide. There was a little marker showing the MT/ID border, which we had been walking along for the entire section. Then, the trail descended and began yet another ascent to another saddle. The grade was good, but there was still a lot of climbing. At the saddle, I thought we were one place, but we were not as far along as I had thought. This happens when you go up and down multiple times and there are no signs to identify things. I guess I should have paid more attention to the GPS/map conversations. Anyway, we stopped at an un-named lake because we had very few options for water in the last 14 miles to the car.
The lake was right up against a steep scree slope and was partially dried up. We had to walk across the lakebed to get to the nicer camping area, it reminded me of hiking Mauna Loa, and the guys explored the swimming possibilities. Tom voted yea (of course!), Jon, nay (too sea-monkey-ish) on the water quality. This was a nice peaceful camp and for the first time in the trip I felt like we all had a chance to talk a little bit. We were even able to perform a tricky Therm-a-rest repair with the kit I always carry and Tom's expertise. Believe it or not, Tom actually was the chemist behind the glue in the repair kit! Tom regaled us with his stories from the gear-researching/developing trenches and Tom and Aaron discussed and tried to come up with a required reading list for Jon's outdoor education. (They should have just asked the librarian!) A nice night, if only we had carried a little extra for a nightcap.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Backpacker CDT Trip- Little Joe Lake to un-named lake
Backpacker CDT Trip- Hamby Road to Little Joe Lake
We left from camp with another uncertain section to hike (about 4 miles), but it turned out that the trail was easy to follow and no problem to navigate. There was a steep descent to Miner's Creek Trailhead, and some of the switchbacks could use some work, but all in all I was expecting much worse. We got down the hill, and got some water in Miner's Creek where we officially began the second section (according to the book) of our hike. This section was reputed to much more scenic and the trail was supposed to be well-constructed. After a short break, we headed up to climb to the top of the pass.
The trail was beautiful, with lush greenery from the snow runoff and the trail was easy to follow and wide enough in places for two to walk together. The climb was a good grade up to the Rock Island Lakes, and then the trail steepened. Up until this point, I felt pretty good despite doing this hike literally off the couch. Work, the Las Vegas summer temps, travel to presentations, and stress over tenure, has seriously cut into our hiking time and in this section I could feel it. Everyone had to wait for me, yes I was the slow girl in the group. How Aaron is able to bust out the miles (remember Half Dome And Long's Peak?), I will never understand. He is a hiking machine. Oh, well at least I made it up the hill.
Over the saddle was Little Lake, and the views were worthy of a John Denver song. This is more like it! Yes, the CDT in all it's glory. We continued down along a good trail traversing the slopes and working our way through the valleys. Tom saw a bear, but as he was in the lead, it was scared away and long gone by the time the rest of us caught up. Gorgeous views, and Jon got lots of great pictures. Check them out. We stopped a bit early in the afternoon, slightly under our target of 12 miles, but there was a nice lake and we were all tuckered out from the climb. We made camp and as we were cooking dinner and messing around, Jon and Tom spotted another bear across the lake. I think it was less than interested in us, and went on to other pursuits, but we practiced good bear/food etiquette nonetheless. After I had crashed for the night I heard whispers and the sound of digital cameras going off. It turns out a herd of elk had come through the area, waded into the lake, and made their way up the steep ridge we had hiked down. Amazing! The wildlife has been awesome on this trip: deer, bear, elk, marmots, grouse...very cool.
Backpacker CDT Trip- Skinner Meadow to Hamby Road
Day Two had an auspicious start because when I woke up, I did not hear the tapping of raindrops on the tent and that meant that I did not have to break camp and hike out in rain. Yippee! We had some tea and some oatmeal for breakfast and the team seemed to be in good spirits. (Aaron was serenading us!) We packed up and hit the road looking for the place where the CDT branches off into the woods and becomes a trail again. The walk was pretty good, in forest finally, and we actually we able to walk along together and chat as a group. It was totally interesting to talk to two guys who were bad-ass mountaineers, because they have a different perspective on hiking than long-distance hikers. They seem a bit more goal-oriented (duh, they need to get to the summit!) and they definitely hike with a sense of purpose (kind of like a race or a bad weather day on the long trails when we skip all breaks because it's too miserable to stop). Thru-hikers (even me, when I am in hiking shape) can hike pretty fast, but they are always open for random conversations with someone going the other way, detours, or for a long lunch and siesta. So, it was cool to see the different styles.
We had a couple of creek crossings during the morning (but we didn't have to actually ford since there were log bridges and rocks to hop across). We also had a bunch of trail/jeep road intersections, but the combo of GPS, good maps, and my trusty guidebook all combined to make the decisions easy enough. On one of the jeep roads, we were cruising along making good time when Tom spotted a guy on an ATV ahead. Apparently this guy was not fond of us treehugging types and as he sped by he said, "Oh good as least the wolves will have something to eat!" I was pissed at the guy, but as Jon said, "you don't mess with a guy carrying a gun wearing camo on a back road in Montana." Indeed.
We stopped for a nice long break at an old cabin where there was a pretty meadow. Aaron had made his own homemade beef jerky and it was definitely a hit. What a savings from buying the commercial packages! We also brought cheddar cheese and Triscuits which are always yummy (thanks Southwalker for teaching me this valuable lesson in the Whites). Tom turned the team onto his favorite- smoked gouda...(fancy pants!) but I didn't get to try it. It sounded rather delish, so I'm making a note for next time.
After lunch it was a quick hop, skip, and a jump to our destination for the night, Hamby Creek/Hamby Road. Tom really liked camping by water (sounds like a certain couple we knew on the AT: Hello Chick and Weird!) so this place fit the bill with a nice creek to soak the tired feet in. Unfortunately, it was near a jeep road, but there wasn't much we could do. Aaron made the most amazing dehydrated minestrone with Chris Zinda's garden-fresh zucchini and Parmesan cheese. It was awesome! Aaron you rock at dehydrating- maybe you can give Mary Jane's Farm a little competition. Tom wasn't big on cooking, but Jon showed off his JetBoil stove, which I have coveted since I worked at REI and all the good-looking Wisconsin climber guys would come in and buy them with their little climbing hardware thingys and Powerbars. I am going to get one. It is like a more evolved Pocket Rocket!
My new boots were bruising my ankles, so by this point, I was beginning to experience some of the familiar pains of backpacking. I soaked the feet and tried to elevate them to reduce the swelling, but I figured it was the price I had to pay for wearing brand new boots to a 60-mile hike. A good second day covering about 12 miles.
Backpacker CDT Trip- Goldstone Pass to Skinner Meadows
Well, you all know how much I LOVE mornings, but I was actually kind of excited to get out and start hiking. Our $10.00 camping fee included the hot springs and the lodge generously offered campers a $5 breakfast with the usual bagels, fruit, juice and cereal. We stuffed some food in our mouths, double-checked to make sure Skot had not had a change of heart, and loaded my truck with the gear. Why is Aaron constantly tying things to the top of cars? He has a real talent for that!
It is a good thing that we had some enthusiasm, motivation (and at least on my part) blissful ignorance, because the start of the hike was a little rough. We parked on the questionable 4WD road below the pass and decided to hoof it up to the start of the official trail. Oh, yes Cory had to walk a road- for almost 3 freaking miles, uphill! You can imagine my mood. I hate walking on roads ever since the AT out of Damascus, VA and I tried to keep a happy face, but I am sure it was pretty obvious that I thought it was a lame start. There were some decent views, and the road did actually get rather gnarly, so in the end there wasn't a whole lot we could have done to avoid the road walk.
Finally, mid-morning we made it to Goldstone Pass. It is extremely handy to have a nice guy with a GPS hiking with you because he can make relevant announcements like, "this is the official Continental Divide" or show you nifty little maps on the screen that alleviate a lot of arguing over which way to orient the map. He can also provide tips like, "We are on crack and walking completely the wrong way!" I liked it. Though I am sure that Jon was annoyed with the team's incessant questions along the way, a variation on, "are we there yet????"
After arriving at the nondescript pass, and snapping a couple pictures, we headed into the woods where we promptly hit a cliff-like ridge and huge drop-off with a view of a distant lake. No time like the present to jump right into our navigational duties, so Tom planted his hiking staff and made his way down this super-treacherous scree field. That is what mountaineers do. I, on the other hand stood there looking around for a trail, like a real trail (you know switchbacks and stuff), until it was obvious that everyone would abandon me if I didn't move it. So, I started down the hill and actually had no real problem, despite my normal clumsiness and tendency to twist my ankle.
After the lovely descent, we were on our own to find a route to Cowbone Lake. It really wasn't that hard to find, seeing how we had a general direction to walk, but it was an exercise in group dynamics to see how four people make decisions on where a non-existent trail is. We found the lake pretty fast and Jon, being the over-achiever that he is, ran a 1/2 mile back along the lake to try and map the "true" route for the project. Reminded me of Grizzly on the AT!
Cowbone Lake is well-named. I was shocked to find actual cow bones scattered all along the lake shore. Apparently a herd of cattle fell through the ice many years ago and the bones you see today are from this unlucky herd. I think the place was haunted. At the lake we met Larry- a CDT thru-hiker. He had that thru-hiker glint in his eye (maybe from hungriness, loneliness or from that weird distance you get when you are psychologically and physically removed from civilization for months at a time). He was using the Jonathan Ley maps and taking the shortcuts, like the bushwhack to Jahnke Lake. This seems to cut out some of the ubiquitous road-walking and probably keeps the thru-hikers sane. Larry was not phased in the least by the trek down the ridge, in fact he said most of the CDT was like that.
We left the lake and continued on. In the afternoon we passed, about 7 ATV'ers (and their dust), another alpine lake, a smattering of old miner's cabins, and encountered yet another boring road walk. The major bummer about the road walk was that we were actually, literally, walking right back to the car. About a mile from the actual vehicle, we veered into the road we drove up on and walked that for a mile or so, and then camped in a pull-out next to a cow-field. Yes, folks it's just all part of the trip! You never know what you're going to get on a long hike, but I'd say this is not the sexy trail section they should use to advertise the CDT!
Our first night camping. Well, we might have had wonderful conversation about the meaning of life, or found world peace, but it started raining and it's hard to do that when everyone is zipped up to their ears in their bivys and tents. The rain was a good thing for the fire, though, so it was a bit of a mixed blessing. I spent the whole night praying that a rogue ATV/redneck rig wouldn't run me over. Too traumatized from Strange Piece of Paradise, I guess.
Backpacker CDT Trip- Jackson, MT
In 2001 while working for Volunteers for Outdoor Colorado, I first observed the amazing feats that a few dedicated volunteers could accomplish with masterful planning and efficient project management. I'll never forget how in one weekend VOC somehow met their goal of planting 1,000 trees, fed hundreds of hungry volunteers, and kept the whole project going despite a rain storm and windy weather. I was hooked back then and to this day consider myself a pretty big cheerleader for volunteering. With this rosy attitude, we took off on Saturday morning to drive 12 hours and 841 miles to Montana for the Backpacker Magazine CDT project.
My first impressions were a bit on the surreal side. Granted, we arrived at 1:30 am to a dark valley full of smoke and a town that seemed to consist of a neon-lit bar, some tractors and a mercantile store from about 50 years ago. It was pretty easy to identify the Jackson Hot Springs Lodge , being the focal point of the whole town and we were able to camp in the back yard and have a quick Moose Drool beer, before calling it a night.
In the morning, we met up with the first of our teammates, Skot Phrea from Texas. Skot had arrived in the area from the Kerrville Folk Festival and been hanging around a while. By the time we met him, his charisma had already made him a legend at the lodge. You meet lots of characters on the road less traveled and Skot was definitely one memorable guy. He was well read, possessed exhaustive knowledge of music, and seemed to be able to make new friends or run into old ones with remarkable ease. It was good to meet Skot because he shared our initial concerns that Backpacker had only sent the team one set of maps (is that a best practice?) and that our contact was mysteriously hard to follow up with. It is true that in the application Backpacker insinuated that this trip was a chance to get "loaded up with some free gear", but we were focused on an excuse to get out of Vegas and we never expected much. Really though, better communication would have been helpful. The first morning we sat with Skot on the lodge porch and tried to determine if we had just wasted a heckuva lot of gas to drive somewhere that was burning to a crisp. Aaron and I took matters into our own hands and made a trip into Wisdom, MT to the local diner Fetty's and the command center for the fire, where we were cleared to hike by the Forest Service. (Who, unfortunately, didn't really have much of a clue about our team or the trip. I guess they had bigger things on their minds like raging forest fires!) All that remained to do, was to meet up with the other two members of the team.
Back at the lodge, we spent a few hours talking to the lodge employees and speculating about the guys we had only briefly e-mailed with. Occasionally, we looked anxiously down the main drag to see if a Honda station wagon was approaching. Early in the afternoon, Tom and Jon arrived from the West Coast and we were all in the same place for the first time. Due to the spotty communication, failure of Backpacker to facilitate regular updates, and some general apathy, our team was probably not destined to win the Most Successfully Bonded CDT Team award. In fact, the atmosphere at the lodge was rather tense and uncomfortable. Skot was concerned about whether Backpacker was coming through on what he perceived to be their "end of the deal". Aaron and I were obsessing about the maps. And Tom and Jon were probably wondering what the heck they had gotten themselves into. My memory of the first hour of our team's illustrious start centers around a little table with a small pile of Sharkies, some maps, and four stressed out/road-weary people with not a lot to say to each other. Jon, probably the smartest one of us, kept himself occupied with his gear and combated the tension with a smart-ass comment here and there, ostensibly to keep the mood a bit lighter.
Nonetheless, the show must go on. And after Skot decided that he had better things to do than go hike in smoke without the promised new socks, we regrouped as a team of four and started planning the car shuttle. We scoped out the roads to Big Hole Pass and caravaned down some endless dirt roads to leave the car off the trail (near the sign above). Mostly, the drive took us through the ranch land below the Divide, we swerved past a cow or ten, and then ascended slightly to the rolling forested ridge of the Divide. The car parked, we headed into Wisdom and stopped for dinner.
Dinner was at the Antlers (Note: I think that was the name.) where we were waited on by what had to be one of the sweetest women in the entire world. This is a woman that had the patience to process 108 separate charge cards so that the firefighters in town could each have their own check. She is a saint. We ordered burgers, salads, sandwiches, and sodas and with the comforting effects of food, finally got a chance to converse as human beings. We got to know more about Tom, a seasoned Cascades mountaineer and former gear developer from Tacoma, Washington who was quiet and smart and shared many of our liberal political views. Jon, when he wasn't devouring one of his many menu choices (he's a graduate student that burns a LOT of calories being somewhat more motivated that the rest of us mere mortals), told us about his work with the Corvallis, OR Mountain Rescue Unit he volunteers with, his recent move out west, and his work and studies in geophysics at Oregon State. Things were finally starting to come together.
After dinner, we headed back to the lodge and had a couple beers at the bar. Jackson locals were truly amazing. There was the flirty-cute bartender with a penchant for cheesy country songs, a cowboy poet whose ranch brand was "FU", and Inga the stoic Scandinavian proprietress of the place. Skot was there carrying on conversations that varied from Townes Van Zandt, to recipes, to quoting the Bible. Jon, Tom, and Aaron and I soaked up the atmosphere and chatted a bit before leaving Mr. Phrea at the bar to crawl into our tents to sleep.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
What I Did on my Summer Vacation
I just returned from my vacation in Twain Harte, CA where I visited for a week with family in a big old cabin with a wonderful porch. Porches truly are the key to happiness! On this porch we played endless games of cribbage (a game of low cunning, math, and luck!), drank lovely Zinfindel and some surprisingly tasty Miller product called Chill, and talked the hours of the night away to the sounds of each others' iPods.
On Tuesday, I went to Yosemite with my husband's sister and her husband where we hiked the John Muir Trail up to Half Dome. Everyone has their personal limit and I would venture a guess that not a few hikers have discovered theirs at the Half Dome cables. What a terrifying sight to behold. The 17-mile round trip ended with a bear-sighting at the Happy Isles concession stand and a welcome bag of Doritos on the car trip home.
Family vacations are no fun without kids, and these two really made the week. I got to lie in the hammock with my imaginative niece and talk about life and later watch my nephew conquer the local half-pipe on his skateboard. Great fun and memories.
Vacations also equal eating, so here are the highlights: homemade sausage at the local diner (Sportsman's Grill), a cute casual place in Murphys called Fire Wood (burritos and wood-fired pizza), and the most wonderful Chocolate Peanut Butter pie ever from The Rock Pub.
The pictures are uploaded, the muscles are no longer sore from the hike, and we are back in the desert where sleeping with the windows open is no longer an option. If nothing else summer vacations remind us of the years past and keep us looking forward to what's around the corner.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
I Love You P-Town
Just returned from a library conference at Reed College in beautiful Portland. What a fabulous town! Not only does Reed have a gorgeous campus, every bit as nice at its sister school, Sarah Lawrence -but the campus is in a real city (well, at least what I consider a real city!).
Portland has the most spectacular gardens, and the hydrangea were all in glorious bloom in the city yards. The Bluebird Guest House where I stayed was a restored Arts and Crafts-style home with a hostel feel (and prices). It is located in the SE where I got to explore the Belmont District and walk along Division Street. I bought a pound of coffee at Stumptown Coffee and had a lovely spontaneous meal at Pok Pok located just down the street.
What I loved about Portland was the mixture of classy , smart (Powell's independent bookstore), and stylish culture (papaya salad discovered randomly on a walk) mixed with down to earth, laid back, outdoors-y people (they have a Nau location). Just enough hipster ingredients to balance the hippie elements.
Somehow, I think that the gods may want me to end up in the Northwest. I feel it would be some kind of crazy irony to move from the desert to the rainiest place in the U.S. From what I've seen, maybe this is where I was always meant to be. Good things about the Pacific NW: good food, beer, and coffee; bookstores, the Cascades, good people, digital library programs, dog-friendly and progressive. Bad things: expensive, weather, might be too late to buy a house. But I am seriously starting to develop the theory that living in places with bad weather keeps the bad people out. Snowbirds you can have the sun belt!
Monday, July 16, 2007
Good Luck Class of 2007
This year I am here in Las Vegas, getting up every morning, going to work, and fighting the heat. But, I am also lucky because once initiated into this friendly family you remain a member for life. And this year, for the third time, I am volunteering to transcribe a hiker's trail journal so that their family and friends at home can follow along. (Time in town is much better spent eating, eating, doing laundry, and eating.)
My hiker this year is completing the Pacific Crest Trail and has already hiked the Appalachian Trail. I have full confidence she will finish the sections of the trail she needs to piece together to make her hike a thru-hike. I just received the first installment of her journals and I encourage you to read along. It is fascinating to follow each individual hiker's personal and physical journey.
Cucumber Boy (my hiker's trail name) is currently in the Goat Rocks Wilderness Area of Washington, soon to cross into Oregon. This is one of my all-time favorite, most spectacular, and well-loved place in the entire world.
Good luck to Cucumber Boy, all the 2007 thru-hiker hopefuls, and all the hiking family wherever you are. Thanks for the memories and for keeping us desk-bound folks full of hope!
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Why I Will Be Boycotting Super Shuttle Forever
Okay, so I consider myself a somewhat intrepid traveler. I generally can handle the whole hostel scene, have been known to hitchhike here and there, and I stay cool under pressure even when I am out of my comfort zone. But this past week's experience totally takes the cake as far as terrifying travel experiences.
It all started in Washington, DC as I was trying to make my way home from the annual conference. I had confirmed my reservation with Super Shuttle and was at the assigned place (my hotel lobby) at the correct time (3:15 pm). When the driver showed up, I tried to give him my confirmation and he said, "yes, come with me, let's go!" I asked, "are you sure that I am the only one?" He rushed me into the van and grabbed my luggage. I sat down next to another librarian and promptly began a really nice conversation about digitization of rare books as we set off towards the airport. About 20 minutes into the drive, the woman mentioned something about her flight and the Baltimore airport...which, immediately concerned me...so I blurt out, "But this van is going to Dulles, right?"
The Super Shuttle driver gets a suprised look on his face shortly followed by a very angry look and begins a long process of trying to figure out how he picked up the wrong person. He then says something into his phone about dropping me at another hotel for another shuttle and veers through three lanes of expressway traffic to exit. The next thing I know he pulls over and tells me, "get out, get out another shuttle will be here in 5 minutes!" I am confused and feel pretty dumb, but I am thinking, "uh okay, well they are going to have to pick me up pretty fast if I am going to make my flight!" I tell the driver I want to get a cab instead and he insists that his dispatcher will call me in 5 minutes! I ponder, "is a shuttle coming or is the dispatcher calling, or are we just in an alternate reality where everything takes five minutes??"
Well, none of the above. The driver gives me my luggage and speeds off. Only then does it really sink in that the driver has abandoned me on the side of the road in front of a liquor store and some place called the President Inn. This place has bulletproof glass in the lobby, and I am fast realizing that I am seriously in a bad neighborhood. I proceed to call my husband and freak out, call Southwest Airlines and freak out, and then try to get information on a cab from the guy at the front desk while trying to contain my freaking out. During this trying moment, Super Shuttle calls to tell me there is no driver coming to get me and that they "apologize for any inconvenience".
I then attempt to call a cab company on my cell phone and I am told that the company does not go to that neighborhood. I go back to the desk and the front desk clerk tells me that he can "call this guy who owns a cab". When the guy shows up he isn't even driving a real cab and of course he wants $125 dollars to go to Dulles in rush hour traffic. I have $26 dollars on me. I panic and call my husband again to help me down from an even more intense stage 2 freakout. The suspicious driver assures me I could have been raped, robbed, killed and worse from what Super Shuttle has done, but that he will, "take care of me." I am not comforted. But, my options are not looking good and time is ticking away.
It was the stupidest thing I've done, and goes against any advice I would give others, but this is what I did: I got in the weirdo cab and he drove me to get cash out at an ATM in a scummy gas station where I was sure I would be attacked and/or that the cab driver would drive off with my suitcase. After getting my cash out and rushing back to the relative safety of my new friend the cab driver, he demands to see my money and checks that it is real. He then starts driving while giving me some story about how he has to drive me to a Greyhound station where he can transfer me to a cab that has air-conditioning...stage 3 freakout!!
I don't know if I am going to live through this, but I keep my phone on and I update my husband with my location in case he has to recover the body. We show up at the Greyhound station where he takes my money and counts it out and gives another guy my money and keys to a parked cab. This old geezer with no teeth (literally he could be a resident at the bus station, for all I know) tells me to hop in, but that he has a bad back, so can I get my suitcase? He also demands another $20 bucks before he'll put the cab in gear.
In my new cab (which actually resembles a taxi), we start driving through DC. I recognize North Capitol from previous visits and now I know what exact ghetto I am actually in. Somehow, amazingly, we make it through DC and onto the freeway where we seem to be driving in the general direction of Dulles. The guy is swerving a bit, but miraculously I actually make it to the airport. I had to bolt through the security checkpoint and run to my flight, oh and I had to do something about all that built up adreniline but I was in one piece.
Why Super Shuttle sucks so severely I am not certain. I heard that their regular drivers were on strike; but that still doesn't explain dumping me off in the middle of nowhere. They are claiming that they will reimburse me for the cab ride, but I don't think I can ever stomach a ride like that again. My word of advice: boycott Super Shuttle. Not everyone is going to be as lucky in finding the Hood Express to get them to the airport and my intuition says that I cashed in a good amount of karma to make it through this brush with fate.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Help me find Hitachino Nest beer glasses
I have been in love with the Hitachino Nest (Japan) beers and especially the adorable little owl logo. But, I can't seem to find the ceramic beer glasses that the beer is served in. Back in Milwaukee, my favorite bar, the Palm Tavern served my favorite Hitachino Nest White in these fabulouse white beer glasses...but they are no where to be found on Ebay or the furthest reaches of the Internet. If you know where I might find these glasses...please let me know! I will gladly buy you a drink!
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
August Adventure
Originally uploaded by brianc9.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Possibly the best green mush ever!
Recently in Minneapolis, for the School for Scanning training I stumbled upon a nice little Indian restaurant called Bombay Bistro and even though I was alone, I sat down and had dinner. What a lucky decision, since I think I may have found the best saag paneer I have ever had. I also ordered a glass of Shiraz, garlic naan bread, and some basmati rice. I finshed it all and loved it!
You can see this photo of the dish that I am blogging from Flickr...it looks similar to the one I had at Bombay Bistro. In my quest for yummy Indian food, I have even made my own homeade paneer (cheese) to make saag paneer at home. It worked out remarkably well, but alas I haven't had to time to recreate it.
if you've never tried this dish, here's what you should do: find a local favorite Indian restaurant, go to the lunch buffet (usually saag paneer is on the lunch buffet) and try it! When ordered as an entree you can often get them to make it spicier if you like it hot, as I do. Naan goes prefectly with it, as does rice. Enjoy!
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
What I'm reading: "Chance and Circumstance: Twenty Years with Cage and Cunningham"
I am a true believer that sometimes books/music/movies find you and not the other way around.
For instance, I have been having trouble adjusting to this whole moving to Las Vegas thing. Serious lack of culture, serious lack of brains being utilized outside of counting cards, serious lack of really anything I consider an important part of my personality. But, the other day, I was in my local library (I know- I just go from one library to another like they are safehouses and I am a spy) and I ran across this book on the new arrivals shelf.
From the title, I wouldn’t have guessed I wanted to read it, but I grabbed it and saw that it was on Cage and Cunningham. I spontaneously thought, “oh, I wonder if there is a picture of Viola (my dance teacher at Sarah Lawrence), in here?” And I turned to the index and there were several pages referenced. So, I checked it out.
Thinking it was far too long for me to actually read, I casually opened it to look at the gorgeous photos and was immediately sucked in. Did you know that Carolyn Brown worked at the Kent school in Denver? (I played field hockey on the fields at Kent in Denver in high school-though I was a lowly public school kid). Then she went to live in New York City (where I lived after college). And she was part of a group of crazy, eccentric artists that not only influenced the course of art in America, but eventually led her to her calling (if only my NYC cohorts had been so ambitious!)
This is fascinating reading for dancers and anyone interested in the work of Cage and Cunningham, (and Brown of course)! Not only do I feel reconnected to Viola Farber, who was one of the most amazing humans I have ever met, but I have renewed faith that life works in mysterious ways. Viola encouraged me to graduate early to thru-hike the Appalchian Trail and we had a really neat talk once about Black Mountain College in North Carolina and my fieldwork at the Colorado dance Festival in Boulder.
Somewhere deep in my love of librarianship, backpacking, dancing, bluegrass, and biographies this book conjured up a little piece of all those touchstones and memories. It truly is art that helps make life worth it (even when you are in art-less Vegas); and if you believe the philosophy from Black Mountain, “We are all artists”, said John Andrew Rice, “everyone of us: we are free to create the kind of world in which we choose to live, and we’re equal in that freedom.”
Okay, so the guy in Hummer trying to pass me on the right may not be feeling the love from that philosophy, but stumbling on this book has reinvigorated my resolve to survive whatever my Vegas life throws at me.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Currently playing
I thought my love affair with the Old Crows was going to be passionately centered on their first album forever.
It was love at first sight (listen) when I intially heard Wagon Wheel driving home from Madison on a snowy night, and to this day that song makes me weak! On Big Iron World, I feel the same way about James River Blues...can it get any better? This music conjures walking dirt roads in the South, closing bars you shouldn't be in while drinking Old Grandad bourbon, new shiny belt buckles, and basically the whole populist history of the country. I don't know how I ever lived without it and this love affair just keeps getting better!
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Consumed with my "orthodog"
A week ago, Monday the 19th of March, Pocky was out for a routine walk in the planned community (Peccole Ranch) near our house. Because the area has walking trails and is off-limts to cars with lots of grassy areas, there are always many dogs out for a walk and some playing. My husband, Aaron let Pocky play with some other dogs, much as we do everyday either at our daily dog park visit or on a walk in Peccole. While playing, Pocky cut a corner and tripped (almost looking like he fell in a hole). Aaron noticed him start limping and they made their way home.
After I got home, I checked the leg and thought it could be his hips or arthritis, but not really knowing, we decided to call the vet in the morning if the doggie asprin and rest did not improve Pocky. In the morning he was no better, and we took him in to the vet at six am.
The vet told is that he needed to put Pocky under sedative, so that he could do a full range of motion test. Dogs tend to hold the leg stiff when they are in pain and the vet can't get a good look at the leg function. So, we agreed and had him admitted for the tests and X-rays. The vet mentioned that he suspected that it could be an ACL injury, but we were hoping for other news since that was the most serious and the most costly procedure.
Later in the day, our fears were confirmed and the vet knew for sure that it was a cruciate ligament injury. This injury requires a referral to an orthopedic specialist and another consulation. We went home with a sore and scared dog and soon we were as worried and upset as he was.
There is a ton of information on the Internet on the TPLO surgery, the various older stifle surgeries and the recuperation process. There is also an active listserv orthodogs that has many members. We started wading through all the information which started to make us even more terrified. As if the price alone wasn't enough. A traumatic surgery that cost $3000? yes, we had some hard conversations ahead of us.
Ever since last week, I have been totally consumed with my "orthodog" and his prognosis. I even set up blog to follow the long ordeal, Pocky's TPLO Surgery.
UPDATE 4/15: Pocky was doing great and went to the vet to get his sutures out. On the way home he got excited leaving the vet and somehow, don't ask me???....injured his other knee in exactly the same way!! Insane. We cannot do anything surgically for four weeks anyway, but this is really a bummer.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
I love a city that's not afraid of a couple stairs
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Why radio is better than the iPod
Well I like radio better than my iPod. In fact, I never even wanted an iPod. I had an iRiver Mp3 player first and I would have stuck with that except it was no longer being supported. Even now that I've been seduced by my lovely 30 Gig sleek little iPod (Best Buy exchange for the outdated iRiver), I can' get into the whole iTunes thing, and the massive cult-like assault of iPod accesories. Maybe the problem is that there is just too much "I" in all of the Mp3 player crap.
A while back I read an article in the Utne Magazine entitled, "Hell is Other iPods: the aural loneliness of the long-distance shuffler". It is a great article about how the iPod culture isolates us from each other and I have to say I totally agree.
"In an age of atomization and social fragmentation it reinforces solipsism and places the individual and that dreaded value "choice" at the heart of experience; it suggests connection -- always the implicit promise of the digital age -- while enforcing separation; it encourages people to "tune out" while they're occupying social space with others, as if the others were mere irritations; and it reduces the experience of music, which in my view is an inherently social and collaborative art and medium, to a preselected relationship with the self."
I love radio and I love tuning into local stations as I drive long miles across the country. I love to hear oldies, farm reports, local weather, and regional accents. I even love the seredipity of coming across a song that you would never download onto your iPod for the shame of it...the guilty pleasure song! You can't really embrace the guilty pleasure when you are confined to your ultra-cool and masterfully selected iPod collection.
True, satellite radio is a sadder substitute to what the ideal would be for real radio. But I defend it. I actually get turned onto new artists. I actually listen to things outside my normal comfort zone. And I can get NPR anywhere, anytime. I can even eavesdrop on the trucker's channel. It rocks. And it rocks because it makes me feel less alone.
So maybe I'm not sharing mix tapes as much as I used to. Maybe I like being able to download one track at a time from an online retailer. And I am addicted to the Shuffle button- I admit it! But it doesn't substitute for that first joyous glimmer of recognition, that feeling of "what is this and where can I get a copy?" It's discovery; closely followed by the need to share with everyone you know. So I am going to keep my radio subscription and keep listening to Jack Ingram's American Music hour on XM radio religiously. I will also keep listening to Prairie Home Companion. And I do check in to Last.fm when I get a chance. Because music should really be doing more than filling the time. it should be bringing people together.
In the words of Nanci Griffith, "When you can't find a friend, you've still got the radio..."
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Sunshine is a Winner
I must admit that I am naturally inclined towards quirky movies that are character-driven, sometimes boring and usually featuring well written dialogue on depressing subjects. My Netflix queue is full of movies that I thought looked weird or interesting, or those that have been recommended somewhere along the way. I usually feel there are a certain number of films that I just need to see to keep up with pop culture. Every once in a while one comes along that takes me off guard because I never saw it coming. Little Miss Sunchine is brilliant in a way that changed my life, per se, but I can honestly say that I haven’t laughed as hard in a long, long time.
This story of a dysfunctional family (one’s bankrupt, one’s a junkie, one doesn’t talk, and one’s suicidal)more accurately reflects our culture than even the “top 10 Google Searches of the year” (Paris Hilton? Myspace?). The movie has elements of a road trip film, a family vacation comedy, and that Blind Melon video with the bee girl. But the ending is spectacularly funny. Are you a winner or a loser? Well, in Little Miss Sunshine the message seems to be that sometimes the best choice of all is deciding not to even play the game. If only we all could have family bonding to “Superfreak” every once in a while! Despite all the strangeness, as the broken-down bus heads for home we somehow know that this family is going to be just fine.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Happy Holidays from Vegas!
Hello from Sin City. It is month eight in Las Vegas, Nevada. The holidays are gonna be rough this year with no family near by and no snow to frolic in. The library is going to be closed so we may head up the road towards Colorado or we may take a trip to Death Valley (doesn't sound too merry does it?) and camp out for a few days. We also found a new yoga studio so it is possible we might just go on a week-long yoga binge during the week I have off. This is a slow time for the casinos, but I hear things pick up for Christmas Day and through New Year's.
I am still enjoying the job. By the end of the year I will have launched my first digital project at UNLV (Showgirls) and that is exciting. Aaron is keeping busy and he has been assiduously studying the world of homeowners associations. Here is his current reading material: Privatopia
There may be a lawyer in him, yet.
Pocky loves the exploring around here and has made lots of friends at the Desert Breeze dog park. We take him into the desert quite often and he loves to boot around in the wide open spaces. There is supposed to be about 6 inches of snow up on Mt. Charleston this weekend, so we will have to arrange a pilgimage up to roll around in the white stuff and dream of Colorado and Wisconsin.
We have been looking into the real estate market and planning our next move in April. We will either rent a house in order to get access to an actual yard and area to grill in, or we may explore the housing market. Since, I still can't imagine actually becoming a real resident here it has been hard to look at houses. Plus it means agreeing to life "behind the walls" in a gated community which makes me sad to contemplate. Downtown Vegas is more arsty and hip, but there are still too many shootings down there for me to be completely convinced about becoming an urban pioneer.
We've made friends with lots of folks from the library and their families and it is great to have others around who understand the culture shock we are going through. We have taken some camping trips, hikes, and hit a few of the local bars. Check out the Freakin' Frog : it is the closest Vegas comes to a beer lover's oasis.
Hope you are well and that the holidays bring out the best in everyone. We miss our friends and family, we remind you to got o your local library, and keep in touch!
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Papa Was a Rodeo
For the first time in seven months, for the first time since I moved to Las Vegas...I finally feel at home. And this is all due to the fact that it is Rodeo Time. Most Las Vegans dread this time of year as a mess of parking snafus and aromatic odors. But not me! The National Finals Rodeo takes place right on the UNLV campus, literally in the athletic fields across from the library and I LOVE it. There are cowboy hats spotted all over the place, the billboards advertise Jack Daniels, and there are horses and cows within in spitting distance of my parking spot. It is great.
Maybe it was growing up in Denver with the National Western Stock Show and Rodeo every winter, or having horses as a teenager, or maybe it is just that the best and most interesting musical acts since Vegoose are here in town, but I am totally digging it. Last Friday I went and saw Shooter Jennings at the Hard Rock and Jack Ingram did two nights at Mandalay Bay's House of Blues.Even more exciting: there is cheap beer in every casino and the dress codes include jeans. So, I thought I would share my joy and say: "Long live the Rodeo!" I can't wait until next year, I am going to get front row tickets!
