Adventures with my Best Friend

I found myself in Maine again, almost a month later, This time with the love of my life. We were camping. Nostalgia really, a combination of an anniversary trip that couldn't happen and a chance to do some of the things we had always wanted to do but couldn't (when the kids were young). We headed to Acadia National Park. We started our week off with an incredible concert, Jackson Browne at the Beacon. Tent, bikes, and hiking gear loaded, we hit the road the next morning at 8AM. On the way, we stopped in Portland for lunch at this funky little place called Po" Boys & Pickles. It was as if we couldn't cross that border without indulging in seafood. Our first order of business after setting up camp and renewing our National Park Pass? We toured some of the carriage roads from the Hulls Cove visitor center. It was an easy 1.5 hour ride, done by lunch (though we did eat that on the trail). We headed to Sand Beach after that for a quick dip in the icy water before relaxing the rest of the day, contemplating the lecture about the precipice trail we received that morning. Climbing that was on Kenny's bucket list. Mine, not so much. The ranger managed to freak me out with tales of this girls death from missing a wrung on one of the ladders. She made sure to tell me how young and FIT she was, a college athlete even. to get an idea of what this trail is like check this out I am coupling it with a review from trip advisor which sums it up: “Terrifying but Exhilarating!” Reviewed September 8, 2009 4 people found this review helpful This is a straight vertical climb up a granite face of a mountain. Spectacular views from the top and worth every second. I'm in very good physical shape and used to frequent hiking, but I found this challenging due to the fear factor (I also have a healthy fear of heights - well, not of the heights - but of falling off of them!). There are ladder rungs where you literally have a 15 inch ledge 20 feet down and then nothing but a 200 foot fall below you. The Park Ranger told us they usually have at least one death a year from this trail - but generally due to people being unprepared, not watching the weather or hurrying rather than thinking through their next moves. We watched a lot of foolish people attempting this (one in flip flops carrying a purse), and a few with children who were absolutely petrified with fear. We encountered two people crying inconsolably along the route with ther climbing partners trying to calm them down. With proper footwear (good gripping soles), agility, and good physical fitness, this is a terrific trail - but be warned that there is some level of rock climbing involved (actually finding handholds and scrambling yourself up 8-10 foot sections of unlevel granite). We descended down Beachcroft (beautiful views of the other side - but pretty steep - not recommended for kids or those out of shape) and caught the bus back to the parking area for Precipice. Bear Brook is supposedly the easiest route down. We got back to the parking lot midday to discover that Precipice is a spectator sport - there were throngs of people with picnic lunches and binoculars just spectating and watching people attempting. We dissuaded a few folks who were thinking of climbing the trail with young children (like 4 year olds....), and talked to a few people who got 1/4 of the way up and turned around. We loved it - but it's not for the faint of heart. Kenny read my face right, the woman absolutely, unequivocally, scared the shit out of me. Which I tried all week to get over. I so wanted to hike this trail so Kenny could check it off his list. The next morning we were off and climbing, Acadia Mtn. followed by a short bike and swim that afternoon. Acadia was one of those hikes that we had been advised not to take our kids on when they were little. It was super steep with LOTS of tall stairs. We went up and over, planning on climbing St Saveur with it but then this couple told us it wasn't a bald and not worth the effort. We skipped it, and planned on lengthening our hike by walking the cliff edge to Flying Mtn. Figures, the woman sent us down a closed trail (peregrine nesting sight). Instead we looped back and chose to fill the rest of the day with a short ride and swim. The next day we headed out for an extended trip by bike. We climbed about 3 miles and descended 1.5 only to have Kenny announce he had a flat and despite having tubes for my 29er, I had nothing that would fit the 26" wheel that was in distress. It was a slime tire and did however have a patch kit, so I wasn't exactly worried about a flat, besides who gets a flat on a MTN bike on a carriage road? I pull over and hear the hiss, I see all this slime leaking out of the where the tire and rim meet and I think it was the valve stem that went and it must be a gaping hole that cannot heal itself. I pull the wheel off, get the tube out just as it stops leaking (of course). I decide to give it a once over since I do have it OFF the bike and I see what looks like debris sticking out of the tire so I pull on it. It was this white, thread like thing and as I pulled it out of the tire I am realizing that I just unplugged the slime patch (it figures). So I pull out the patch kit only to find the glue dried up. We were apparently batting a thousand at this point. I managed to force more slime out of the tire it wouldn't plug things up anymore but maybe it would help me hold the patch on, or at the very least it would help the duct tape I was about to use? We filled the tire with 35 lbs and headed back the way we came, stopping every mile to refill the air which would drop to 20lbs. We had so many people stop and ask if they could help, funny, not one had any patches, not one had a spare tube much less one I could throw money at. One guy even stopped and told us he had air (a CO2 pump in fact). I asked if he had a patch or a tube, he said no, all he had was a pump. I have a question for him, what would he have done if he was in our position? It was like we were the only ones who were semi- prepared for this outing. On the way back we stopped for lunch. When we got back to the car we headed into Bar Harbor bought some patches and tubes then headed back out for a 10 mile ride on a different loop. Here the biggest challenge was dealing with all those people who do stupid things on bikes, like park perpendicular on a bridge that is at the bottom of a steep hill or ride taking up the whole trail, forcing you to dodge and weave around them on a blind corner. There was this guy walking up a significant climb in the middle of the trail near a blind spot. When I came up on him and politely told him I would like to pass him he asked me what was stopping me. I told him the blind corner up ahead would put me in danger of being hit from someone descending. To which he saye, I'm watching so its safe. I asked him to move right, to which his companion says I have been telling him that all day. He told both of us where to go... people can be such fools. After that we headed into town for a beer and some steamers. Why this detail? We met two of the coolest people (Becky and Liz) who just happened to be our camping neighbors, literally. It made the rest of the week really nice as we kept bumping into them. Our final day of activity sadly was Thursday, when we attempted to climb the west ridge of Cadillac Mtn. We heard it was such a great climb and one that was very challenging. It would be a consolation for not climbing Precipice. We couldn't find parking anywhere near the trailhead. We chose the GORGE path instead. This was a hike up a riverbed with steep walls, large steps, and multiple river crossings. If there had been more water it would have been a terror. About .5 miles from the top the trail starts its non-technical climb that in places felt like a little slip would have you hurling down a cliff at breakneck speed. There was one place where I dug in both my fingernails into the tiniest of hand holds and my feet into an even smaller foothold. Oh I was so happy I was wearing barefooters, a pair of hiking boots or sneakers would not have allowed me to feel the pressure I needed to not slip. We ended our week with a lazy day and dinner at this crazy place called Nemos where we were entertained by the local crowd and disheartened by a lobsterman who seemed so gracious until some guy ordered a 4 lb lobster at 10/lb when he can't even get 2. He immediately looked forlorn and soon got up and left. My thoughts are with the lobsterman who cannot make ends meet this year. Lobster prices are so low due to many different factors. We spent our last night in a tent with 2 inches of water in it. Packed up our gear, ate breakfast out and picked up 10 of our own clawed hitchhikers. Yesterday we had a feast fit for kings with our closest friends. My only hope is that we bought them from a lobsterman rather than a distributor. Sometimes that line is hard to understand, especially when it comes to packing them to ship a long distance. Summer is over in a few days, things will get crazy busy again. I only hope that this trip stays with me enough to ease that transition.

I am so tired

I have spent the last two weeks at camp. I was working with 5-11 year olds in clay. I thought it would be a piece of cake. Man there is a reason that most people have babies young. I have found that I have spent almost every drop just trying to keep them occupied enough so that they stay out of trouble. I think they had fun. I know I did. With that said, life has been crazy, but who's isn't. I have been working really hard at playing hard. I am hoping that by winter Mike will be coaching me on the oval. Yes, I plan on racing long track again, I think? A few former team mates from my college swimming days have decided to make a girls weekend out of the Alumni meet. I am planning on getting in the water. If I have the courage to do that I think I will have the courage to race on the frozen stuff. I think? It has been tough without Chris around pushing me. He moved to the Twin Cities area about a month ago. I miss him, but then again, I miss all my kids, even Mikey who still lives here. My empty nest has allotted me much more time to occupy my world with things I want to explore more. My clay life has been exciting too. I have been making some different work. Stuff I am really proud of. I have this feeling that this is just the beginning. I am not thinking about this one, I know it!

Virtue?

I had dinner with Pete and his nephew last night and the topic of religion came up. Pete's nephew was presenting a paper at SUNY Stonybrook this week on the intertwining of Catholicism and Mayan culture. The conversation around this fascinated me. It was about the origins of faith, the parallels in every culture on this planet, and how at times the western variety religious teaching could be pretty insular.
My parents were an interfaith couple in a time when "the faiths" even if they were both "Christian" didn't mingle. I grew up hearing that the faith I was being raised in was the only "true" faith and that non-believers would surely go to hell, or purgatory, or somewhere really, really unpleasant. I grew up thinking that maybe my mom, even though she was a protestant, would be saved from certain doom just because she showed up at the catholic church twice a week to drop us off at Mass and CCD. Then later having to explain to my own children that daddy would surely not burn in HEdoublehockeystix for being Jewish and that "heaven" was not secular and full of separate faith-based rooms. My journey through life has led me to do some extensive research on religion and quite often I venture there metaphorically with my artwork. Why? I think it is that one word that stands out which is MYSTERY. That word "mystery"intrigues me. The risk of wonderment is almost as great as the RISK of jumping off a cliff and in most of my life. It is what drives me. I love flying by the SEAT of my pants! Despite leaving the "church" 10 years ago though, I have yet to give up my faith, that is TOO risky so I study other things as if I am searching for a reason to let go completely. Yet secretly, I pray that what I was taught to believe in will eventually stop being hypocritical and come around to the true meaning of the word catholic: broad scoped, liberal, open to ideas, and universal.

I eventually got back in my car and headed home just catching the tale end of This American Life. The episode: Return to the Scene of the Crime. Act 3: Our Man of Perpetual Sorrow, Dan Savage.

"Keeping you in my thoughts"

In Search of The Ghost Train

I grew up in this town and have always been so incredibly intrigued by its history thanks to a third grade teacher who made every kid in the district passionate about it. Thanks Mrs. Egan. Then there was my friend's mom, Doris, who is now the town historian, who I adored, that made that history come alive. Despite being a relative outsider (my kids have more legacy in this town than I do) I am in love with this place.

A few days ago, Kenny and I were hiking and while I stopped to take a photo of an old foundation I found this cache. At first I was sure it was going to be something hunting related, only to find out that it was a geo-cache. The rest was history. I have spent more time than I should this past week, thinking about it, plotting strategy and waypoints…uh hello, reality is calling…you would have thought I was planning that expedition to the top of the world, which I had told myself at 10 that I would do when I was  55. Well, I have 8 years to go and honestly no real desire to die climbing. I can't bare to be above 9K feet for too long without a massive headache I can't imagine 29k. (oops, sorry got a bit sidetracked- that was a whole other story).

So today, it was beautiful. My meetings were over by 3. My work was done by 4. I drove home, music blasting out the sunroof and got the urge to go treasure hunting. I decided to go on the quest for the ghost train. It was late when Roseanne and I started down this abandoned railroad bed. Leave it to me to decide to follow way-points in the woods during a solar storm. We walked past the first cache while I was trying to get the coordinates correct, oh yea, another stupid point, I was in a rush so i figured I could enter them on the fly. This did not work out so well. I spent stupid time trying to get it correct. we walked almost  mile past the first waypoint because I had a typo. Remember the Little Rascals episode, the First Round Up, when the kids went camping? When we figured it out we were so deep into the woods, had lost track of time,  and it was already 6:10. we were loosing light fast. We decided to turn around and head back in the interest of making it out of the woods before it was too dark. Put it this way, I was glad I had a hoodie on as there was this BAT who decided to make us feel like we were trespassing. Then there was the train whistle in the background right as i saw the fox run across our path. On the way home I decided that i was disappointed that i missed that cache, looking at the map I know I must have looked in the tree its in. Now I am determined to complete this one. Until tomorrow?

purging the past

This post isn't what you might think. I have spent the past few months trying to go through our stuff. mostly because I am trying to downsize our clutter. One of the things that I seem to have collected is cookbooks. I am not talking about your latest and greatest fad things from today. I am speaking of the latest and greatest from the 20's, 30's, 40's and 50's, etc…there seems to be an incredible amount from that casserole age.

I have been making my own bread exclusively for the past 2 weeks or so. It came out of the desire to have a whole grain product that had a lot of flavor with zero salt and only needed fat. So far I have made oatmeal bread, a dark rye, and this afternoon a whole wheat polenta bread. While I started to think about culling cookbooks I decided to make some recipes from them first. I wanted to "test" things out before I dismissed the "old". The CIA cookbook is my latest keeper. Published in 1969 it has some interesting recipes. One thing I decided was that I would also pay close attention to serving sizes. I learned that we have expanded our portions greatly. Actually that revelation was not a new one but the actual portion sizes when I stuck to them were about 1/3 of what we are accustomed to now.

I made some meatballs tonight- it called for 3/4 of a pound of ground beef, 2 eggs and breadcrumbs along with a range of spices. The recipe served 7-9 people (and made between 28-32 meatballs). Think about that  for a minute, less that a pound of meat to feed 8 people. I encountered this thought in Korea a few years ago- the average serving size of meat per person was about 70- 90grams, about 2 oz per person. What was surprising to me is the calorie count for this recipe, nothing special in it, each meatball was about 150 calories so my serving actually was limited to 300 calories, not the 450 for the average called for serving.

These vintage books are fascinating though, less Americanized than I would have suspected too considering they were from that "wonder bread age". So as I work my way through them eliminating the salt, halving the butter and sugar and keeping to the suggested serving I am learning a great deal about both my mother and grandmother and Kenny's mother and grandmother(s) from the notes that they have left behind.

Conquering mountains! OK molehills is a better description.

Yesterday Kenny and I decided to go out for a ride, only his road bike had a mechanical issue so in the interest of time we decided to head out on the mtn bikes. Neither of us could decide where to go, Stewart Boundary Lands, Fahnstock, the Horse Farm, Blue Mtn Lake, Huntington State Park, Wilton Woods, Mianus Gorge, Ninham, Taconic Hareford, do you get my point, too much to choose from and one of us really hates mountain biking. In the interest of making a decision that did not involve too much preparation or thought I decided to just tour the dirt roads that are inhabited by most of this country's 1%. I admit that I uttered WTF under my breath a few times, but other than trying not to feel less than by gawking atmulti-million dollar real-estate I was just enjoying the sunshine and being out with the coolest guy on the planet!

Today, Kenny bagged the bike for the gym so I was on my own. I decided to do the same as yesterday but making it a much longer ride with even more challenging hills. Who knows maybe I will be trail ready by the end of the muddy season. the thing about riding on a dirt road with a mountain bike is that I am far less likely to hop off at the sight of a steep incline. In other words I ride much more. When it comes to the paved links in-between proves more difficult too.

What can I say, it was a gorgeous day for a ride. Tomorrow? Maybe I will actually get into the woods!

Is your head screwed on right?

Apparently my new chiropractor has just informed me that mine was not. Kenny wants to know why I had to pay money to hear that as he has known that for years. All I can say is what a difference an adjustment makes. Other than that, its been one of those really slow days. I spent most of it trying to get caught up on school work so that next week registers low on the stress scale. I hope it was a good decision.

So the chiropractor asked me if I was aware that I hold my breath a lot? Hmm, never really focused on it. I guess its another thing to add to my mindfulness quest. She suggested I learn to meditate. Its funny, our friend Joey tried to encourage the same thing this past summer. I have been thinking about his reasons more than hers. His were stress reduction thoughts, hers were more technical.

I think about this. Joey is just younger than Justin and such a balanced young man. A speedskater and member of the US Sprint Team he has been quite the inspiration to me. This past summer he was a wonderful influence on Chris while we were out in Salt Lake. Joey started his season with wonderful results only to be taken out with an injury in December which has been heartbreaking to many I am sure. (Joey, if you read this, which I hope you will, know that we are thinking about you and remember, as you would most likely say to me "positive energy only for the next few weeks no matter what you are going through". You can do this. You are strong! There will be an ax and a big log waiting for you when you recover!)

I am off to focus on my breathing among other things...