Photos from Breck & Vail

   This "remix" was made by EpicMix from my professional photos taken on-mountain yesterday & today. Yesterday at Breck was a mixed bag of TONS of fresh powder (12"+ overnight), snowing all day, some sun, high winds, and blowing snow to near whiteout conditions at the end of the day. Quite an experience. Today in Vail was the PERFECT bluebird day, with tons of fresh, groomed powder, bright sun & super-blue skies all day long.

You're spoiling me, Colorado. But oh, how I like it!

Powder Day!!!

   Day 1 on the mountain was awesome, and today (day 2) we woke up to TEN INCHES of fresh powder! Off to carve like crazy!!!

Make like an Ibex at Ibex

   I spent over three hours this afternoon cultivating "trembling hand syndrome" with 33 members of the Adventure Club. A bunch of us had never tried rock climbing before, so we all took a belay class at Ibex Climbing Gym in Blue Springs to learn how not to die, paired up, and then set off climbing the walls. I buddied up with a guy named Kelly—who had climbed years before—so I figured I was in good hands. (At least one of us knew what the heck we were doing!!!)
   The belay class was good... check your buckles, learn to tie a figure 8 knot, hitch up for climbing, tie a safety knot. The belayer takes the safety device and has to constantly pull the rope taught as the climber goes, taking up all the slack so they won't have a large drop if they slip off the wall. Getting my hands in the right places at the right time and pulling the rope the right way seemed daunting at first. (I wasn't 100% sure how bad an accident I could cause if I had my right hand over my left, rather than the other way around as it should be. Yikes!) This was the only time I had butterflies... Turns out this equipment is pretty safe even for dummies. Once I got comfortable with that, I never looked back.

the partner

the challenge

   I started on some easier walls, and pretty much scampered up like a squirrel. (All were approximately 30' high, but the routes for each rope were rated by difficulty.) Fortunately, I don't have any trouble with heights as long as I feel safe and secure with the equipment. So we kept moving around to successively harder climbs, with widely spaced or rounded, slippery barnacles (I don't have any idea what those things are really called!), and sheer angles.

Kelly's having all the fun...

...while I'm belaying.

Go Stella!

Note to self: don't wear light pants; dark harness gives you an outliney, cartoony butt shape! LOL

   After taking turns a bunch of times climbing & belaying, we went upstairs to try free climbing on the shorter (12-15'?) walls. That was fun, too: it was nice to have everyone climbing at once, with no one having to hold a rope. The scariest part of the whole day for me was dropping to the thick blue mats after reaching the top. It crossed my mind that if I landed wrong, this could really jack up my impending snowboarding trip... 

     Those short climbs were surprisingly hot & sweaty. It was a much better workout than I was expecting, which was nice. To "rest", we went back downstairs to scale the tall walls...

Yep, that's me: hanging there & trying to find a place to grab onto  so I can keep going up.

   At this point we were about 3 hours into climbing, and though my mind could have gone all night, my fingers were saying, "Whatchoo talkin' 'bout, Willis?!" I tried the same 5.8 wall twice at the end, and got just  a yard from the top before my fingers completely gave out (while pulling all my weight toward the wall on an angle that came out toward me), and I reluctantly gave the "get me outta here" signal. Honestly, that was the hardest part of the whole day: admitting that I was too tired to get to the top on that last run. I'm gunning for that one next time!!!

More Than Mountains

Intersections conduct.

Right angles obstruct.

And we survive by following the lines.

Rulers make lines,

High rise and street signs,

And we survive by maintaining order.

Defined by steel skeletons,

Mirrored windows for skin,

The sky-hiders bear their clenched teeth

With a grin.

Outside the window, traffic beats the drum,

As the gravity of a city presses its thumb.

And we survive by pressing back.

From beneath, a bellowing rage,

From within, I emerge from a cage,

Those right angles. Can. Blur.

These are more than mountains...

Glowing golden horizon escape,

Sunrise and set define the shape,

And we survive by simply being.

Atmosphere delicate; savage,

Hospital to the mentally ravaged,

A bed for bird, bear and brother.

Solitary as synagogue,

Serene as silent sanctuary,

Divinely orchestrated symphony.

More than meditation,

Or medication,

These are more than mountains.

— Jeremy Collins

Wild Alaska

   My camera has seen a ton in the past few days: glaciers, airplanes, wildlife, microbrews, fresh-caught fish, totem poles, artwork, dogs on boats, mountaintops, log cabins, wildflowers... An incredible variety in just a week! I'm reinvigorated and freshly inspired, and I can't wait to start sorting and sharing, so stay tuned. *

* Disclaimer: It might take a few days. I'm sleep-deprived and my adrenaline reserves are low.

Makes you think

   I just saw “127 Hours” and am sitting at In•gre•di•ent eating my piping-hot smoked jalapeno bbq chicken pizza and ginormous greek salad (half off, because, after all: I’m the Mayor!) and I’m thinking about the movie. First off, my friends are all at home watching the KU game, and I elected to see the movie… proving that I’d rather see a guy saw his arm off than watch basketball. Right on.

   My one-sentence summary is that the movie is hard to watch; not because it’s so gruesome, but because James Franco is a huge tool. I decided that ten minutes in, watching his cocky a** jumping around on that bike. I can’t imagine this was an accurate portrayal of Aron Ralston, The Guy Who Sawed Off His Own Arm. However, I am definitely a Danny Boyle fan, and I thought the directing was captivating, especially the opening credits.  Bravo!

Look at me, I'm a DB!

   The middle of the movie felt fairly tedious considering the whole thing was just over 90 minutes long. I expected to feel flat about the whole thing by the end. But I had this indescribable feeling when Aron spotted the hikers and suddenly knew he was going to be okay. Franco pulled off a wrenchingly accurate portrayal of that mix of elation and absolute, head-spinning exhaustion.
   Now, don’t get me wrong: I’ve never sawed off my own arm, or even been forced to spend a night in the wilderness due to unforeseen circumstances. But I’ve had the elation/exhaustion 1-2 punch.

******

   I still haven’t got my photos online, but back in July I went to visit Kristin, who was interning for the university hospital in Albuquerque. I drove down with the dogs specifically so that the four of us could hike the La Luz trail. Kristin and I are both experienced (though untrained) hikers, and we’re in great condition—and for that matter, so are the dogs—so we were excited about it. We’d hike all day and drive up to Santa Fe the next morning, to spend a much-needed day at the spa.  We packed our backpacks the night before and checked everything in the morning, being careful not to forget anything. We brought lots of water for all of us. We had a nice, big breakfast at Flying Star, which allows pups on the patio, and the dogs were treated to great-dane-sized biscuits. All fueled up on good food and adrenaline, we drove up the mountain to the trailhead.

   We hiked for hours. (The total was over eight hours roundtrip.) Kristin had hiked a different trail solo, but had been on the opposite side of the mountain. Her trail was heavily treed: cool and shady. Ours had cacti and short, scrubby plants but little relief from the 100-plus-degree sun. Not expecting such harsh conditions, we needed a LOT of water.
   By the 5-mile mark at a spectacular overlook, it was apparent that we were going to run out of water. For safety, we started back down. The further we got we realized that dusk was closing in, and if we didn’t hurry we’d be stuck navigating the trail in the dark with no flashlights. The dogs, who were troopers but not fans of the heat due to their double coats, were tiring fast. They were panting heavily, their noses were hot and dry, and they stopped to lie under bushes constantly... sure signs of heat exhaustion. My mind turned to thoughts of, “If this kills my dogs, I will never forgive myself. And if this kills Kristin, Mom is going to kill me!”
   We debated about having one of us stay on the mountain with the dogs, while the other raced down, got in the car, and drove to the nearest gas station (15 minutes away) to get help. Ultimately we elected to stay together. With three miles to go (which I know thanks to the Garmin GPS unit that Olivia & David loaned to me) we ran out of water, and the dogs were too exhausted to continue. So we carried them. We carried their hot, furry bodies for three miles downhill, which can be harder than uphill when you’re tired and navigating loose rocks on the trail carrying 25 pounds of canine. The second I picked up Aki and hoisted her up to my shoulder she began licking my cheek exuberantly.
   We’d carry them as far as we could, as fast as we could, then put them down until we regained enough strength to do it again… like a slow relay down the mountain. I have never been so glad to see my car. Unfortunately, we didn’t have the foresight to leave a cooler of water in it, and had to endure the tortuous 15-minute drive.
   At the first gas station, I led the dogs to a patio in the shade while Kristin ran in to get cups of ice water.  Water never tasted so good. We all drank the cups dry in seconds and I went in to get more water. First the dog relay, now the water relay. We didn’t have any money and hoped the clerk wouldn’t cut us off. Taylor was so sick from the heat that the water made him vomit. We gave him small amounts, but he threw up everything... and still was vomiting a couple hours later. Back at Kristin’s apartment, we tended to the dogs, showered, and crashed. Being alive felt good. And the massages the next day felt even better than we ever imagined.

******

   Similarly, I ran into a snag hiking the Haleakala crater in Maui over Thanksgiving. The 11.5-mile hike was incredible, with soaring views of several peaks and craters, and more color than I would have imagined. I talked with a ranger at the station on the summit at dawn and she told me about the route I ended up taking. You hike down from the summit at over 10,000 feet, pass between the arid peaks, through a barren, moon-like valley, over a crest, and into a lush, green valley around 5,000 feet. Then you hike back up to 8,000 feet and wait in a designated areas for hitchhikers to be picked up, ride to the top and collect your car. Knowing that it was a designated lane with a sign I never imagined it would be a big deal.

   When the eighth car drove by, driver smiling but not slowing down, I began to worry.
My cell had no reception. There was no way I had the energy to hike another 2,000 feet up, especially because it was up a very long and winding road with hairpin switchbacks, dramatically increasing the total distance. There wasn’t a lane for hikers either, so you’d have to share a lane with cars—and they barely had room to avoid careening over the edge into the clouds as it was. Seeing no other options, I was getting ready to start upward. I knew I couldn’t make it before dark, and I wasn’t sure if my tired legs would get me there.
   Enter Pete and Kathy, my heroes! They pulled their little Honda over and asked if I needed help, then enthusiastically said, “Sure, we’ll take you to the top—just jump in the back next to Charlie!” Charlie was their adorable 4-year-old son. We chatted the whole way up the volcano, and they told me about many of their favorite spots to eat, snorkel and Scuba on Maui. So not only did they save me, they helped make the rest of my trip even better!

******

   Given the amazing (though sometimes daunting) experiences I gained on these hikes, I know I will take every chance I get to see the world, and the more close-up and in-person the better. But for my own safety, I just signed up for a two-session backpacking class taught by an experienced member of the Sierra Club. After the sessions the group will go on a 2-day, 2-night excursion somewhere to test out our skills. The sessions will complement the hard-won lessons I’ve had so far and make me a much better, safer hiker. And probably lead me into even wilder situations, if I have any luck at all.

   Every experience changes you and shapes your life in ways you cannot begin to imagine or predict. And that’s the fun of it. (Assuming you don’t have to cut your arm off.)

Steamboat: another try at snowboarding

   Well, Snowboard, you didn't scare me away: I'm back out for Round Two! Chris's friend Julianne had a free ticket for the Steamboat Ski School, so I took a 2.5 hour group lesson. My instructor was Neill Redfern, who apparently used to be quite the expert Lacrosse player in North Carolina. He had been teaching snowboarding in Steamboat for 9 years, so I knew I was in good hands. There were 4 others in the lesson, and we were all about equally bad, save the one guy who was an avid skateboarder as a kid.

   The lesson was a good overview of the skills (same things Chris was showing me the day before), but in the end I only got to try to go downhill twice, as we had to take turns so Neill could help us. So I was sorry to admit that I wasn't going to learn snowboarding on this trip. Chris and I met up with Julianne and Cody at the Truffle Pig for apres-ski, then left and met up again soon after to cook a quick dinner together, then see True Grit.

Enjoying the alpine glow:

   Too soon, it was time to head back home from Fantasyland. I packed and we returned my gear to Powder Pursuits, Chris showed me where he works and introduced me to his coworkers, then took me to the airport. There was some trouble with Frontier's computers, and for a few minutes I was thinking I wasn't going to be able to leave (YAY!) but they eventually figured it out (BOO!)

   It was nice to get away for a few days to a place that actually had snow, because between LA & KC, it hardly felt like winter! Can't wait for my next excursion to Colorado. Going to have to work on the snowboarding thing before then!

Steamboat or Bust

   This year I had the pleasure of spending New Year's Eve on another adventure... Chris invited me to come out to Steamboat Springs, CO to try snowboarding for the first time! I was really excited, for a whole lot of reasons, not the least of which because this would only be my second time in Colorado. I knew Steamboat was a famous ski destination so I was a little surprised at how small the airport was. Chris found me, we grabbed my bags, and were on our way into town.

   Nothing excites me quite like seeing mountains, and Steamboat is nestled right in them. And with the near-record snowfalls (16+'!) they couldn't have been more beautiful.

   Chris whipped up a snack of grilled Halloumi cheese (yum) and wine, and then we hung out in the outdoor hot tub and enjoyed watching fireworks from the top of the mountain. (Keep in mind it was somewhere between minus 10 to minus 20 degrees, so once you were in the water it was hard to get out!) But he had made reservations for a spectacular 5-course dinner at Bistro CV, so we braved the elements.

Photos are from Explore Steamboat

   Bistro CV lived up to the high praise in Frontier Airlines' inflight magazine, Wild Blue Yonder... the meal was just incredible. Each course was complex and delicious, from the salmon tartare to the diver scallops & sweet potato gnocchi; the seared 27-year aged ribeye to the flourless chocolate cake with berry sorbet. (And the rose champagne didn't hurt, either!) This was hands-down the best (and possibly coldest) New Year's ever. 

   Saturday was extremely cold again, with wind chills at -20, so though we were out on the mountain for lunch, we opted to hang out inside and watch movies and make dinner rather than risk frostbite. Mark & Melanie came over for dinner and we cooked up a superdelicious meal: Asian pork belly lettuce wraps, sirloin, scallops & more (eat your heart out, CV!)

   Sunday, we were up and at 'em, riding the Wildhorse gondola up to Steamboat, then grabbing rental gear for me so that Chris could give me my first lesson.

And the lucky board is... the Park Pickle. (What?!)

   Steamboat is incredibly beautiful, especially when the clouds cleared up and the sky was intensely blue.

   Nothing, however, could distract from what a huge dork I looked like:

   But, I guess that's the hazard of cold-weather gear, right, Chris?

   Chris did his best to teach me everything he knows about snowboarding, but it was a fairly huge gap, considering he's had over 20 years of experience. I put everything I had into it, but still wasn't getting very far. I'm sure Chris was disappointed, frustrated and frankly, bored, but he hid it well and was a great sport. After two hours of trudging up the practice hill (I hated to waste $90 on a lift ticket if I couldn't get the hang of it), a few good bruises on my knees and a helluva whack on my tailbone, I was pretty well exhausted.

Coccyx: 1, Jen: 0

   So we took a break for lunch, and rode up the big gondola to Hayzie's, where we met a couple of his friends. Great views everywhere, and really great food.

   I took the easy way down. This is why I'm here writing this blog today rather than in intensive care and wrapped up like a mummy, like you see in cartoons. It was worth it, for that, and for the views (the photos don't do them justice, since it had become cloudy again, and I was shooting through glass):

   Chris, on the other hand, took the fast way down: tearing it up on the mountain!

   We met up at the bottom and grabbed some groceries and whipped up a really delicious roast chicken and vegetables for dinner, then hit the hot tubs again. This guy knows how to live!  ;)