One Corner of Fun - Part IV

The wet weather took off as soon as John left but I guess his sickness stayed around. I drove down to the Grand Gulch area in preparation for starting my next backpacking trip and became dreadfully sick just as I found a place to camp. That night was a real challenge, especially considering that the temperature dropped below freezing and I was sleeping out under the stars.

In the morning I struggled to choke down a little bit of food and then decided I would try a short dayhike instead of starting a backpacking trip. So I drove to the trailhead for Fish and Owl Canyons and slowly ambled down into Owl Canyon. Throughout the day my body and mostly my spirit were buoyed up by the incredible beauty I saw down in the canyon. Immediately after starting the hike I came to the first of several ancient ruins, in an alcove below the overhanging walls. Small shards of pottery and dried maize cobs were littered all about the ruin. Although I am certain that I was a few miles from the closest person, I certainly did not feel alone in this canyon. Others had been here for a very long time and fortunately for me they seemed to welcome me to continue on down canyon.


The deeper I went into the canyon the more life seemed to spring from every little crevice and sometimes the singing of the songbirds was a little overwhelming (see hummingbird & Lizard photos). I attribute much of the life, and death in the case of this dead mouse, to the presence of water in the canyon. There was a small stream in places and several nice pools which were surrounded by hanging gardens.

I ended up wandering much further than I had anticipated, and I almost convinced myself to do the loop down Owl and up Fish Canyons. But a little reason prevailed and I chose to return the way I came, saving my energy so that I could start a backpacking trip the following day.

That night I camped at the Fish & Owl trailhead where I awoke fully recovered from my sickness. Just before settling in for the night I was pleasantly surprised to see a couple drive in with a full load of gear in their Subaru and a soaped in "Just Married" on the back window! A trip to the canyons, now that is my idea of a honeymoon!

The next morning I rushed back to the Kane Gulch ranger station gotta permit and took off down Kane Gulch - Grand Gulch for a two day backpack trip. To be continued . . .

One Corner of Fun - Part III

I arrived in Moab around 8 pm and spent about 2.5 hours looking for a campsite. Note to self: Don't visit Moab anywhere near a weekend! It seems like all the visitors to SE Utah concentrate at Moab on the weekend. You'd think they would hang out elsewhere since there really isn't a plethora of great non-motorized recreation around Moab. I guess that is the rub. Many people seem to be looking for the motorized type of recreation, either 4-wheeling or scenic driving through Arches. In fact, in the two days I spent near Moab it became increasingly evident that Moab is little more than a rest-stop for petroleum based tourism!!

Enough ranting. I ended up camping way out in Potash on the Colorado River and was abruptly woken early in the morning by a group of obnoxious adolescent rafters. On the plus side I finally got to sleep outside due to clear warm skies.

Since I still had a full day before my friend John would arrive for a backpacking trip, I drove into town and rented a mountain bike for a day. I took the souped up Ellsworth Moment out to the Poison Springs and Portal trail which starts near the Dinosaur tracks on Potash Rd. I was pleasantly surprised at how much fun I had trying to wear myself out and get my money's worth biking all over the slickrock. Although I had never ridden a full-suspension bike and had never ridden sand/slickrock after about a 1/2 hour I got the hang of it and I was soon passing ATV'ers on the uphills. Bombing down slickrock and catching little jumps was awesome and reminded me alot of skiing. In fact I liked it so much I did a few laps of the same runs!

After a full day of biking I got cleaned up, bought some supplies and went to the Moab Brewery to slurp brews and wait for John to arrive. I was really excited to get to hang with John since he lives in Denver and we only get to meet up about once every year or two. Even though he has alot of responsibilities with his family, job and school he took some time off and even rented a car in order to drive out to Utah for our trip. Thanks alot John! You are a totally rad friend!

So on April 21 we drove down to the Needles District of Canyonlands National Park and were lucky enough to pickup a day-of backcountry permit for a 4 day backpacking trip. Getting started wasn't too easy since I was only prepared to carry a lightweight pack and yet we knew that we were due for some stormy weather. It took awhile but we finally got on the trail with John carrying the heaviest load (he needed the exercise anyway). Fortunately for us middle-aged casual hikers the trails in the Needles are relatively short and have very few climbs and descents. So for most of the trip we were able to take our time and enjoy the scenery while hiking from camp to camp. Although the distances between camps were short and the canyons were relatively small and homey I was extremely impressed with how undisturbed and wild the canyons seemed. After the first day we rarely saw anyone but saw a plethora of wildlife and really felt like we had the place to ourselves.

The trails were so short we even had time for a day-hike on our first day. After arriving at our designated campsite we continued up Elephant Canyon and found Druid Arch bathed in sunlight while the canyon was in the shadows. This spectacular arch was a little hard to photograph because of the position of the sun so the photos are only the best of the bunch.

On the second day we decided we needed a little adventure so we day-hiked down to Spanish Bottom on the Colorado River (technically we were across the river from Spanish Bottom on the Lower Red Lake trail). Although this hike may have been on the order of 19 miles round trip and included a bit of steep hiking it was well worth the extra effort. It was cool to have the trail all to ourselves especially considering that we were visiting the mighty Colorado just before the entrance to Cataract Canyon, one of the most wild sections of the river! At Spanish Bottom we saw a large group of boaters no the opposite side of the river. After a short lunch we headed back up the trail. Before reaching camp our good luck ran out and John got sick which is how he would remain for the rest of the trip. In addition the weather took a turn for the worse with some wind and rain showers.

The next morning we awoke to heavy rain showers. Since neither of us had a functioning watch, who knows when we finally got up, but it definately wasn't until after the rain had stopped (briefly) and it was likely around 10 AM. John was even sicker than the day before, but like usual showed very little sign that he was virtually on his deathbed, and certainly did not complain! What a trooper!


Anyway I was fortunate enough to go outside the tent just in time to hear a somewhat disturbing sound of rushing water coming from up-canyon. I ran down to the bottom of the canyon just in time to see the leading edge of flowing water advancing down the dry wash. Although this "flash-flood" moved no faster than a walking person and was no deeper than knee deep, it was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen. It was so cool I had to take a bunch of photos to show the water's progression down the dry streambed.

In the afternoon we ambled along under drizzling skies to our next and final camp in Lost Canyon. Here we spent a relatively uneventful night before heading back to civ on April 24. After getting back to Moab John jetted back to CO and I cleaned up, fueled up and headed back south toward Grand Gulch . . . To be continued.

One Corner of Fun - Part II

This the second part of my 2007 vacation travelogue. On Wednesday April 18th I chose to relax a little bit, primarily because I was worn out from the long "pasture" track hike. So I slept in a little and then went exploring upriver from my car, on a little geocaching expedition. Prior to the trip I found a geocache item near North Bend, WA called "Big Cat & Little Cat say Hi". These two are just a couple of toy cats chained together with a couple other cacheing items. Since I new I was going to go on a trip to a faraway place and the two cats appeared to like to travel I thought I would take them along and see if I could find a cache to leave them at.

I have never actually geocached before and my GPS unit is about as simple as they come. Most of the time I only use the GPS to alleviate my worries when I go off trail for a long ways. I like to set waypoints as I go, leaving cookie crumbs, as some might say so that I may be able to find my way home if I forget landmarks. Or sometimes I use it just to see how far I have gone.

Anyway I decided to try and find my first geocache using the GPS. It ended up not being much of an adventure as the cache was probably only a mile upstream in the middle of a broad valley. I was a little surprised at what I found on top of the rock covering the geocache! Lets just say that some of these geocachers must not really need their GPS units, and surely don't need them to get home, because one was left right at the cache location! I am not totally sold on geocaching as a worthwhile or exciting activity, but I guess if it takes a little treasure hunt to get a few buts off the couch then maybe it is helpful for some people. Based upon my limited experience, however, it sure doesn't seem like the caches are all that remote. In fact, you could probably ride an ATV right to this particular cache and I am certain that quite a few people already have! Why not hide caches on vertical walls of sandstone, under the water or at the top of a tree. Now that would make the trip a little more exciting.

After finishing the cacheing I wandered over to a old mining/ranching cabin (shown above) and pondered why the previous inhabitants left. This looks like a great place for a cabin to me. I think I might fix the place up a little, but otherwise this looks like a stunning place to do a little living!

Speaking of caches. Since I cancelled my plans to do the Muddy loop I had to drive over to another area where I had cached some water a couple days before. By the time I picked up my water and extra food near Cistern Canyon there were some serious storm clouds on the horizon and the wind was already kicking up a small dust storm. Once again I felt forced by the weather to change my plans. So instead of staying in the southern part of the swell I hightailed it to the east. I quickly drove to the eastern part of the San Rafael Swell near Goblin Valley State Park, and finally found some people!

Unfortunately, most of the campers I found at Little Wildhorse Canyon appeared to be of the ATV ridin, RV sleeping variety. I am sure they were good people just a little to hopped up on noise and fumes for me! I took a quick hike in a dust storm down Little Wildhorse Canyon before calling it a day and escaping to camp at the head of Chute Canyon. Here I had the place and all the wind and dust to myself!

The morning of April 19 dawned clear, cold and thank-goodness not windy! So I took off down Chute Canyon with a plan to hike Chute, find my way over to Crack Canyon, and hike back up Crack to the eastern side of the swell where I could hike the road back to my car. I enjoyed wandering down Chute canyon in the shade of the canyon walls, even traversing through a couple of nice narrow places. But I guess somebody else wasn't so excited about my visit! While walking the canyon I heard a bit of noise somewhere above me but couldn't pinpoint where it came from. I walked another 20 feet stopped and turned just in time to see a rock land just where I had been standing. After about a minute of looking I finally made out 5 bighorn sheep scrambing on the rocks above me (shown above). If not for the rock missile I am sure I would never have noticed these majestic animals. Their coloring allowed them to blend in perfectly with the rocks and their generally nimble and quiet climbing made them hard to find even when listening for their footsteps. Now that is what I call shock and awe!

Before long I came to a side canyon where I thought I could traverse to Crack Canyon. So off I went exploring unknown territory. Surprisingly I ran into my first fellow hiker of the entire trip in this un-named canyon. Interestingly enough he was also the organizer of a volunteer effort to install signage in the canyons. It seems that alot of people seem to get lost making the traverse from Chute to Crack and vice-versa so he was planning on putting in some signs for the BLM. He explained where I need to go to make it to Crack and we parted going opposite directions. Suffice it to say that I was not prepared to do the route finding without a map. I never found the correct route to get to Crack so I climbed up high on top of the rocky plateau and enjoyed the view. I couldn't see back to the western side of the Swell but I could make out the Goblin Valley area and a lot of open land between me and the Maze in Canyonlands N.P. It was awesome.

I gave up on the planned loop and just found my way back up Chute Canyon to the car. A full days effort for a full days adventure. I decided I had seen enough of the San Rafael Swell and decided to drive to Moab that night. To be continued . . .

One Corner of Fun - Part 1

I was tempted to title this travelogue Four Corners of Fun since it is all about my recent trip to the Four Corners region, however, then I realized I only saw the stuff near one corner! I guess that just means I need to go back at least 3 more times! For those who don't know the Four Corners term is commonly used to describe the area where the states of UT, CO, AZ, and NM meet.

For the last two weeks (and an extra weekend) I travelled all over the southeastern corner of the great colorful state of Utah trying to satisfy my need for sun, solitude and fun. I think I found a fair amount of the latter two, but I could have used a little more sun. Since this is going to be a long story I have decided I will break it up into parts. Here is part 1:

I started out by driving to the San Rafael Swell via a stopover in Walla Walla, WA. Both at the beginning and end of my trip I got to stop in and see a couple of my best friends Beezer and 'Brielle. They have just set down roots in WW and are in full nesting mode, preparing for their impending stork visit.
I really enjoyed relaxing with them and taking a break from the endless driving. I only half-heartedly wish that I could have relaxed in their laid back abode for the entire two weeks, but then again I would have eventually gotten bored of drinking beer and playing horseshoes! NOT

My plans for the first part of my vacation were to do a 4 to 5 day backpacking loop down Muddy Creek and through Mud, Cistern and Chimney Canyons. These canyons are located near the southern edge of the San Rafael Swell on BLM land. Based upon my guidebook the first day of the loop promised to be fairly exciting as Muddy Creek flows through a section called the Chute which is a length of 20 foot wide narrows where the walls soar 500 feet above and the creek oftentimes runs from wall to wall.

So on the morning of Monday April 16th I started down Muddy Creek from my car camp. Only a 1/2 mile from the car I encountered the first river crossing and soon realized that my feet were going to be really cold and wet for the entire day. The river was generally less than knee deep but the water was pretty dang cold. I am guessing some of the water may have even been snowmelt since I saw snow in the hills on the way to the creek the day before.

As the day warmed and I started enjoying the scenery of the deepening canyon I noticed that some very large and dark clouds were forming above the canyon rim. I really wanted to get to my first camp on the other side of the Chute but started to worry a little about the possibility of a flash flood. A flash flood while I was in the narrows could be a disaster. Especially considering the fact that the guidebook mentions a log-jam 25 feet above the canyon floor in the deepest section of the narrows and I don't swim!

So I picked up the pace and soon entered the narrows where I was wading in water more than walking on dry land. It was exhilarating moving quickly down canyon, rounding countless bends as the walls rose above, nearly blocking out the ever darkening sky. Although the creek was still relatively small it had an ominous roar due to the echoing walls. After awhile, I came to a place where the canyon temporarily opened allowing me breathe a little easier knowing that I could climb above a flood here. After taking a short break and wondering whether or not there was an escape route from this particular area I plunged forward as the canyon became ever more narrow. About a 1/2 hour past the opening I came to a place where the wading went above my waist and my pack starting getting wet. I searched in vain for a sandbar which would allow me to go forward without swimming. Because the possibility of a storm threatened, I did not have the time to waterproof my backpack for a swim, and I wasn't willing to try to swim the deep section by myself, I quickly decided to turn around. Maybe I could find another route or come up with a new plan back in the open section of canyon.

About 20 minutes later I was in the open section of canyon between the two narrows when the sky broke open and I was pelted with pea sized hail for about 30 minutes. Even more dramatic than the hail were the near constant thunder and frequent lightning flashes. I made a couple halfhearted attempts to setup my tarptent but soon realized I couldn't get the thing setup in the gusting wind and loose sand soils. After the hail stopped I clung to the hope that I could find a canyon escape route where I would be able to bypass the narrows. So I started climbing up one side of the canyon towards a high route which the guidebook refers to as the pasture track. A 1/2 hour of searching later I had only found insurmountable obstacles of vertical rock and soil so I backtracked to the bottom of the canyon where I was promptly greeted with constant rain. I found a small overhang of rotten rock where I was able to hide from the deluge and watch small lakes and streams form on every piece of dry ground outside my ad-hoc shelter. After about an hour and a half I realized should take advantage of my relatively sheltered position and brew up some dinner. So I quickly cooked a meal which helped warm me up.

Around 6:30 PM the rain finally stopped and I looked out to see that the river was not too much higher than before the rain. Since the sky was still gray and likely to rain all night I decided to use my food energy to get me back to the trailhead before I really got soaked. So hightailed it back to the car with my tail between my legs, arriving just before dark and another bit of rain.

Due to my weather misfortunes and bruised confidence I settled for a day hike on Tuesday. For this trip I was to follow an old mining track high above Muddy canyon, bypassing the narrows, and then dropping down into Chimney Canyon. For the first section of the hike I had to traverse back down Muddy canyon for awhile. Consequently, I nearly ran into a sleeping herd of wild horses! I had been wondering about the large piles of horse apples in the canyon and these 6 horses provided a great answer. These horses appeared to own this canyon and seemed to looked at me as an interloper. They watched me cautiously but with the confidence of wild animals in a pack. It was obvious who the alpha male was as he stood between me and the others, ready to teach me a lesson if needed. It was impressive to see such beautiful and wild large animals in such an amazing canyon.

The day's hike got even better when I climbed up onto the high "pasture" route and could see the vast canyons below. Because the route followed a high bench of the Muddy canyon drainage it's length must have been double that of travelling at the base of the canyon. Up here I had to skirt around every small side canyon which drained into the Muddy, making for a very long hike.

But it was absolutely awe inspiring looking out over the vast sculpted landscape below me with an unbroken blue bowl above. Later in the day, while walking along daydreaming I must have caught some movement out of the corner of my eye because somehow I picked out a couple of silhouetted heads and antlers/horns from all the scrubby vegetation. I set out to get a little closer and before long I was watching 6 pronghorn antelope or bighorn sheep who were watching me! I am still not certain if they were antelope or sheep without a full curl? You can see from my photo that they only let me get so close. They obviously weren't too interested in me because after a little while they hopped down some steep slopes to disappear in the canyons below.

I finally made it to Chimney Canyon and hurried down as far as I could afford to go before turning around for the day. Before long I came to a couple of waterfalls and pools which would have been a serious obstacle if I was coming from down canyon (my original plan). Climbing down one of these falls without a rope and belay was out of the question, at least for me, since It was a 20 foot class 4 to 5 climb. So I revelled in my solitude and took a quick skinny-dip in one of the cool pools. I'm no nudist but I enjoyed sitting naked in the sun while every bit of water slowly evaporated from my skin.
On the way back I had a blast doing a little running in order to cover the distance a little faster. It was truly exhilarating running all alone above the canyons, racing to get back before dark!

Why Doesn't Anyone Care?

Last Sunday I rode my bike over to Seattle and went to the Iraq war protest. I am not a regular protestor or peace marcher, but I have on occassion gone to a march or two. I wanted to go to this protest primarily because I am so frustrated that nothing is changing. No one, not Congress and not the general population, and least of all the President is willing to get some balls, stand up and end a war which will never be won, or maybe it has already been won? (I won't even try to explain this statement since the explanation has to be made for each of the President's reasons for war. Ask the President!). I am not sure if it takes a strong, intelligent and thoughtful person to start a war, but I am becoming ever more certain that that kind of person is definately what it takes to end one.

So I made up a little cardboard sign, taped it to my bike, and rode into town. The bike ride was great as the clouds lifted and the sun started to dry out the city. But the protest left me unimpressed. It seemed like a significant portion of the crowd consisted of the city's destitute and homeless. While the remainder primarily appeared to consist of far-left leaning pascifists. Now I realize that judging by appearances is the worst kind of generalization and that I don't exactly fit the mold of normal american consumer. I am not trying to sound elitist (it just happens when you have a strong opinion!). But I just wish I would have seen more average looking Wall-Mart shopping, American Idol watching, non-political party card-carrying citizens, either protesting against or for the war. So much of the war debate is framed by the extremes and not by the undecided middle. It is extremely tragic that middle America, whether literal (ie Kansas), or economic seems to refuse to participate. So many don't even vote, it shouldn't exactly be surprising that the vast majority won't voice their opinion in public. I could of course be all wrong. Maybe they are all writing letters to their representatives and making sure that the will of the people is heard. I just don't believe that this is occurring. The only so-called voice of the middle is from the numerous polls which always seem to tilt toward one side or the other, dependent upon who is doing the polling.

Whether or not I am on the right or wrong side, fighing against or with the will of the people, it would be nice to know that the rest of America actually cares about what is happening in Iraq. Based upon the lack of participation it sure doesn't seem like anyone cares. So for me the bigger and more disturbing question is why doesn't anyone care?

p.s. You have to click on the photo to read the bike sign!

Silence

Due to my recent running injury and resulting non-running routine I have alot more time on my hands than usual. So two weeks ago I decided I could finally try and ski in to Calvin's cabin this year. The decision was made semi-last-minute so I wasn't even going to try to find some partners. It still seemed like a decent plan for a weekend since I didn't have anything else to do and I was dreading sitting around waiting for my legs to heal. It is bad enough that I have a hard time sleeping when I am not running. Lately, I have been dwelling too much on my injury and spiraling into a mild funk when I think of how unprepared I am going to be for this summer's adventures! So a trip to the cabin seemed like a great idea for revitalizing my spirits and reminding myself of some of the things (other than running) which I like to do.

So I drove over to the Salmon La Sac snow-park and found one of the last parking spots in a huge lot full of snowmobile trailers. I knew going in that there were going to be alot of noisy stinky machines around but I was a little surprised about how full the lot was. The ski in was fairly uneventfull except for the 33 times a sledhead sped by me, revelling in unadulterated mechanical happiness. During these passings I cowered on the right side of the trail hopeing that the sledders hadn't yet drunk their fill and could still manage to avoid me, because there is no way in hell I could have avoided them! Later on the ski-out a few sledders slowed when passing and gave some waves. It was nice to know that they wanted to be courteous, but the funny thing is that I really didn't feel like there was much genuine courteousness! For one thing it is hard to detect courteousness from a shreiking mass hurtling by at 30 miles per hour. But more importantly, I am not really sure how a wave and a slight slowing is going to improve their reputation when seen from the eyes of a non-sledding trail user. I can't imagine any normal person (including sledders without sleds) actually being able to enjoy the company of sleds on a multiple use trail. At least to me it seems like multiple use trails for sleds and others are totally inappropriate. But we live in an imperfect world, so what are you gonna do?

Anyway I got to the cabin and truly enjoyed some solitude once the hornets(sledders) had left for the day. Sitting on the deck with nothing but snow, trees and mountains around did wonders for my attitude and my spirit! It was a little lonely being at the cabin by myself but it was extremely rejuvenating to build a fire, make some dinner on the camp stove and do some reading, surrounded by perfect silence.

On sunday I did a little bit of skiing on the mountain above the cabin and then quickly returned to civilization a little more relaxed and alot less frustrated. I am going to take my time and try to heal from my injuries. There is no point in doing some half-ass workouts and hopeing that my leg will heal. I will slowly build-up the miles and the fun. Probably before I know it I will again be trying to run back to back 20 mile trail runs!

I should have posted a long time ago!

I have been meaning to post about my Orcas Island Fat Ass race and nephew/neice weekend for awhile now. I am primarily posting because I wanted to put up a couple of great pictures of my neice and nephew!

So way back in February I went up to Orcas Island and ran the Orcas Island FA 50K (really 33miles) with a big group of the regular crazies. Once again this was a really fun race, made even more exciting by the high winds and heavy snow at the top of Mt. Consititution. The conditions really weren't too bad as long as you kept moving. I had a great time and managed to take at least 45 minutes off my time from last year. Of course some of this is due to the fact that the course was shortened and last year I got lost near the finish! I finished in 7th place with a 5:35. I had a great time seeing and hanging out with a few runners who I hadn't seen for quite some time and meeting many others.

The bad part, the part which I could write an entire whinny post about, is my resulting injury (or injuries). It appears that my legs are taking an early retirement! I won't go into details in this post. But this has got to be the worst injury I have ever had considering that I haven't been able to run much more than a few miles (total) for the last 2.5 weeks!


After the Orcas race I took advantage of the fact that I was near Bellingham and drove up to see the family. I spent bit of time at my dad's and then spent an entire day with my brother's family, including my neice, Hazel, and nephew, Lucas. I had a great time getting to know them since it seems they change so much from one visit to the next. Hazel spent a great deal of time perfecting her screaming skills while I was surprised to see that Lucas has become quite the trickster. I think his parents may be in for some hard times since he was fully revelling in the attention he could get by doing exactly what I told him not to do! Of course it may just be that his parents would never stand for that and he knew he found a sucker when I came to visit! Anyway, I can't wait to return and see how these two will surprise me some more.

I Am Back!

I know it has been a very long time since I have posted. I guess I just haven't felt like posting and I don't have any photos to share. Although the photo above looks alot like me at Whistler, it is a pilfered photo from their website. Pictures make the blog so much more exciting!

I have had two memorable and bloggable experiences since my last post:
1. Ran my first 50K since last May
2. Took a 3-day Ski vacation in a foreign country

Bridle Trails 50K Race

On January 13 I ran the Bridle Trails 50k race in Bellevue, WA. I wasn't really planning on "racing" so much as just trying to get out and have some fun. Oh and of course finish a race which as beaten me down more than any other. It is a little strange and sad that prior to two weeks ago I had dropped out of this race both times I had raced it! I think that I have only dropped from one other race in my running career! I should have never dropped from those previous two races, but in the past I was always able to justify the drop since it is a Fat Ass race and it is in the middle of winter. It means very little in terms of my fitness since I am usually just trying to build a good base during January. And alot of the time the weather is absolutely dreadful for this race. In fact, last year there was a downpour during the entire race and the temperature was around 35-37 degrees. It started snowing during that race and at one time I found a 100 yard stretch of trail covered by a shin deep pond!

This year the race and the weather were much more enoyable, although still challenging. It was about 25 degrees during the race and some packed snow and ice covered the majority of the trail. But at least it wasn't raining! One of the unique challenges of the Bridle trail race is that the race starts at 3 pm thereby requiring the runner to run at least 3, if not 4, 5 mile laps in the dark. When I think about it this really isn't that much of a challenge since most northwesterners have to deal with running in the dark on most weekdays during the winter!

I had a relatively fun time this year and finished with a somewhat slow time of 4:42 which I blame on a couple of bathroom stops, slippery ice and a slacker mentality! The true highlight of the race was getting to hang-out with a lot of runners who I hadn't seen in a few months. Some of the local runners are such amazing and truly genuine good people. It is refreshing and somewhat comforting to find others who revel in their sport and who value the way they live in much the same way as I do.

Whistler Ski Vacation

Last weekend (Jan 20-22) I drove up to Whistler with a group of guys for three days of skiing. I had a great time avoiding injury and shredding pow, but it was a little strange since I knew no one in the group which I went with. Most of the guys were Microsofties who somehow new each other through the digital world. I just got connected through the Mountaineers UTHRS group. The trip worked out great since there weren't too many responsibilities to hang with the group, but at the same time everyone was responsible enough to make sure that skiing was the top priority. We stayed at a ski in/ski out condo on the side of Blackcomb mountain with a defective hot-tub!

The only thing that perplexed me throughout my stay was the insistence of so many people to use the safety bar on the chairlifts. Although I have not skied at a ton of ski areas I am not used to using the safety bar. I have never really been too worried about falling off the chairlift, except for when getting on and off! When I have skied in Washington it seems like you can usually spot the safety bar users from a mile away. Generally they seem to be beginners, kids or nordic ski types. But at Whistler about 75% of the lift riders seemed to put down the bar, even quite a few rowdy teenagers! I discussed it with one of the guys in the group, Dima, who had lived in Canada for most of his life. He suggested that it is a cultural thing that many more people in Canada, and possibly elsewhere, were more accustomed to using the safety bar out of habit. This got me wondering if the use of safety devices whether lift safety bars, seat belts, bike helmets etc. was more prevalent in other countries and whether or not Americans (the U.S. kind) are less safety conscious. In this country are we all just a bunch of risk-takers or non-conformists and/or are does everyone else use safety devices because they truly believe in their safety or because they have been brainwashed into believing in their inherent safety? Personally, I am not so convinced that the safety bar is really very necessary. Maybe it is more likely that I will fall out of a chair than that the chair will fall off of the lift, but as long as I take care not to fall out of the chair then that shouldn't happen, right? Obviously there are too many issues here to resolve and they are primarily influenced by my opinion. I am guessing that my issue with the safety bar is really childish and probably has more to do with my resentment of nanny state control than anything else. Of course the safety bar is not a regulated device and no one is required to use it but it's heavy-use got me thinking about implied as well as regulated control. It appeared to me that alot of those people who used the bar may have used it due to it's feeling of safety rather than it's actual safety value. Lately I am realizing, more and more, that although I profess to being somewhat liberal in my outlook and politics I am really very libertarian. I definately value the responsibility of evaluating and choosing the way I want to live my life, or ride my chair lift! Now, due to karma, I will probably fall off my next chair lift!