The Longest Day, Part I

Tuesday, Aug 21

1:00 comes fairly early in the morning. However, the alarm on my altimeter watch dutifully woke me up as I had instructed it to do. I slept pretty well from about 9:00pm-1:00am, considering that I was about to embark on a trip I'd been simultaneously looking forward to and dreading.

I'm sure a lot of people don't understand this. Doing this hike, especially for a 43 year old flatlander, was going to be a lot of work. I wasn't underestimating it this time. My climb of Mt. Elbert -- which is really more of a high-altitude hike than a climb, was a lot of work. That was a 12 mile round trip with roughly the same elevation gain ... about 5,000 feet. It wore me out. It was about a 10 hour round trip for me, and I stayed on the top less than half an hour because it was cold and windy -- downright inhospitable -- up there. Plus I wanted to get down for an Elk Steak (that I never had, by the way) in Twin Lakes.

And what many people don't understand is why some of us do it anyway. The answer is, if you don't understand it, I can't explain it to you. And if you do, I don't have to say another word. All I can say is, try it sometime and maybe you will.

I had no illusions about this climb. It was going to be longer, after about 7 good miles of hiking steadily uphill, I was going to have to scramble over a quarter mile of large boulders and climb to a spot where the hard work would really begin. Longs, though certainly not the most difficult Colorado 14er to climb, is no walk-up. It's probably the most difficult I will ever attempt, though.

The ranger at the ranger station suggested starting at 3:00am. From all the accounts I'd read, I figured I'd better start at 2:00. She said "all the better".

I had washed and shaved before I went to bed, and packed my pack so all I'd have to do is put on my boots and hat and jump in the car and go. I'd scouted out the road and trailhead the evening before. Even so, I missed something. I turned on C66 thinking it met up with C7.... wrong. It's the next road to the east -- Mary's Lake Rd. Fortunately, C66 comes to a dead end at some campground after a few miles and I realized my error and turned around and went back. I only lost about 10 or 12 minutes

The trailhead parking lot was fairly empty at 2:00 am. I pulled up alongside a car where another hiker was obviously getting ready to go. Even this early I wouldn't be alone. I got out and started pulling out my pack.

The other hiker was from Nebraska, and though I couldn't see her obviously female, and quite a bit younger (23, as I later found out). I opened the conversation with "The insanity begins." She'd been planning this event for a while as had I. She had tried it before and had to turn back due to weather.

I had in my pack some jerky, some trial mix, a Mountain Goat bar I had bought at Two Brothers Deli, 5 quarts of water (about 10 lbs). Another 10 lbs of camera gear. A fleece layer, a waterproof rain slicker, and an emergency poncho. I also had a water filter in case I ran out of water. That's another pound. A sheath knife. Leatherman multitool. Portable anemometer. And a compression shirt in case I needed another layer. First aid kit. And my hiking pole. I even had my cell phone on the off chance that I'd get reception from the summit via Estes Park.

In my lower left parachute pants pocket (zip-off legs in case I got warm -- highly reccomended for summer hiking) I carried the smaller Nikon "walkabout" digital camera for quick documentary snap shots (plus it takes video which the digital SLR will not). I did not plan on getting the good camera gear out until sunrise to take some shots of the diamond face (I should be there by then - and right about that time) and some at the top. Topographical map in the right lower pocket. And a GPS (mostly for curiosity sake, but you never know) strapped to the backpack arm strap.

Last, but certainly not least, an LED headlamp strapped around my forehead.

I signed in and hit the trail at 2:15 am, moments after "Nebraska". She disappeared into the darkness.

Pretty much all I could see was the spot on the ground my headlamp illuminated, and the dim shadows of trees on either side of the trail. One by one hikers who started up the trail after me passed me by. I stood aside and let them go. They were younger, more fit, better acclimated, or some combination of the three. I kept telling myself "This isn't a race. The summit isn't going anywhere." No point in wearing myself out before I get to the boulderfield.

On the Elbert climb, I'd averaged about 1,000 feet an hour in elevation gain. I was on about the same pace here.

At one point I took a wrong turn, thinking the trail must go across a stream, but it vanished on the other side. I got the topo map out and looked at it. When I looked back up another hiker had passed me and was walking 180 degrees from the way I'd been facing, up the next leg of the switchback. Geez, I've really got to pay more attention. Well it was pretty dark. Since I never pointed my headlamp that way, I never saw the obvious about-face the trail did right before the stream.

A mile and a half or so up the trail I passed the Goblins Forest Campground sign. And at about 10,800 feet, the famous "Lightning Hazard" sign (3:30 am), warning of the dangers of lightning above the treeline, which I'd be at after climbing another 700 feet. Someone was stopped just ahead, taking a break and eating some "breakfast". I stopped, too, and turned off my headlamp while I ate some dried cranberries and drank some water. The sky was crystal clear -- black, with bright white stars searing holes in the cold, black backdrop. Breathtaking, really. Mark and I had noted how clear and distinct the Milky Way was from the campsite a couple of nights before. It seemed even clearer here.

We made some small talk, and both of us hit the trail again -- the other guy steadily pulling away from me. It didn't seem like long before the trees shrivelled and shrank away... and then a sight I'd read about opened up to the east and southeast. You could see the city lights of Boulder and Denver down on the flat. Wow. I really couldn't get a good picture of it without the tripod, but I did my best by getting the Pentax out and setting the "film" speed to 3200 and holding as still as possible. You get an idea of what it looked like -- but it was clear. You could even see traffic moving -- an we're talking about 40-60 miles away. Not many people get to see this. This is one of the reasons I'm here. If you want to experience something special, it takes some effort. Sometimes it takes a lot of effort.

The biggest thing I credit my father with is giving me the ability to go through long periods of discomfort, unpleasantness -- and discipline you'd really rather not force upon yourself -- without really complaining about it. You just do it, like the Nike commercial used to say. You just do it, and you don't bitch about it. Putting up hay all afternoon and evening in 97 degree weather with ridiculous humidity. When you're 12 and some of the hay bales weigh as much as you do. With bits of hay scratching you in places God never intended hay to go, including up your nose. In your eyes. Scratches stinging with sweat. Thirst. Exhaustion. None of that matters in the short term. Ticks, chiggers.... Or cutting wood all day in the snow, fingers, toes, and ears numb from the cold. There's a job to do and you're the one to do it, and it's not going to get done until you finish it. Don't get me wrong. I've seen "Band of Brothers", and I that's a hell of a lot worse than I've ever been through or ever hope to have to go through. Let's have some perspective. But I know what it took and how they did it.

And it extends to schoolwork, work-work, diet and exercise, and climbing mountains.

Lots of people can't do things because they won't try. It's amazing what you can do when you try and don't succmb to excuses as to why you can't do it. Gimme a Nike "swoosh"! Thank you!

Today it was getting up out of a warm, comfy bed at 1:00am and climbing a 14,000 mountain with a good 25-30 lbs strapped to my back. No, it isn't a job that needs to be done like the hay. But I can do it because I did the hay, and discomfort doesn't deter me from something I really want. Self discipline isn't just for the benefit of others. It helps you get what you want as well.

You think about a lot of things when you're hiking (or pretty much anywhere) alone in the wilderness. It's just you and your thoughts, and it's good for you. That's one of the reasons I like doing it. The sight of the city lights over the treeline at 5:20 in the morning was already worth the effort, and the day had hardly begun.

The tundra seemed to go on forever. I looked behind me and saw a stream of headlamps following behind me. Occasionally I could almost trace the trail in front of me with headlamps by looking ahead. It gave me an idea of just how far I had to go.

Hikers kept passing me over time as I meandered through the tundra in relative darkness. Sometimes I'd catch up with some when they were resting, but they'd usually pass me again. At one point a party passed me including a woman in a long cotton dress and a head covering -- probably Mennonite. Great. I'm being passed by a woman in a dress.

This is not a race. The peak will still be there when I get there.

The tundra started to give way to boulders, more and more of them. Not huge ones. Mt. Lady Washington was right there. Perhaps I'd reached the boulder field. But no. A young woman was stopped to the side of the trail ahead of me. I stopped and looked up at her. My headlamp revealed a "Cornhuskers" hat. "You must be Megan", I said. I had read her name above mine when I signed in at the trailhead. She was the second to sign in that day, and I was #3. She said she wasn't going to make it. Her ankles hurt. She said she had weak ankles anyway. I looked down at her unprotected ankles. "You need high-tops", I advised her. She replied that she didn't like high tops.

Back to that whole "doing what needs to be done" thing, I guess. At the very least, then, she should have a hiking pole. She should have one anyway even if she did have high tops. They help you catch your balance when you trip, slip, or stumble, and your arm absorbs the shock instead of your ankles. Well it was too late for her. We wished each other well. She said she'd be back another day.

By this time I was noticing an injury of my own. It was an injury I don't ever remember having before, but was the ligament on the inside of my right knee. I have no idea what caused it. It was sore, and every time I picked up and bent my knee very much at all, it hurt. Not terrible pain, but it was sore, and it was the kind of thing that could get worse. I was starting to be concerned that I wouldn't make it myself. I decided to take some ibuprofen and press on to the boulder field and possibly the keyhole and re-assess at that point. If it got worse I'd still have a good 8 hours to get back down before my planned return time of 4:00pm. I could take it easy and downhill wouldn't be as bad -- especially with the hiking pole.

The sun was up over the horizon within a few minutes from then, and I was presented with a very large series of switchbacks leading higher up the tundra, apparently ending at the boulder field -- which I couldn't see yet. But as the sun got higher in the sky, I was treated to a spectacular orange-gold bath of light over everything, the tundra, myself, Mt. Lady Washington, Storm Peak, and the Diamond Face of Longs. I stopped and broke out the Pentax again for this. One of them (below), I think, is THE shot of the trip. Another climber asked if I'd like my picture taken, and you know.... you bet. What a memory. Even if I don't make it to the top (as I often say when I'm hiking/climbing) I get to be here. Wow. Just.... wow. No adequate words to describe it.

It was a bit hazy from forest fires out west, but you could still see Trail Tidge road and the mountains farther to the north and west. In the morning twilight I even saw a headlight on Trail Ridge -- either that or the light on one of the pieces of road construction equipment. Whatever it was, it was cool.

Daylight, the spectacular view, and the proximity of the boulder field gave me the energy to press on. I'd been struggling with oxygen since about 11,500 ft (not that the previous 2,000 feet was a piece of cake).

The boulder field has real boulders. Big ones. Not that stuff strewn around the north side of the base of Mt Lady Washington's peak. These were often the size of cars and bigger. Mike had told me it's easier to boulder hop than to try to pick your way through them, and he was right. It would've been easier without the sore knee, but the hiking pole came in handy for minimizing the impact of that.

I could hear Boulder Brook trickling underneath the boulders, but I couldn't see it through them. I had recently read that it is believed that there's about a 100' thick glacier underneath the boulderfield -- the boulders are actually helping protect it. I guess they got deposited on top of what's left of the glacier a long time ago. At one point around 1930, there was even an Inn built up here to which people rode horses, stabled them there, spent the night, and then climbed the last 1.5 to 2 miles to the top in the morning. Certainly much safer that way as you wouldn't be tired when you got to the hard part. Within a few years a 2' crack developed in one of the walls, and they tore the whole thing down. It is now believed that that was caused by glacial movement.

There's also a cool story about a little girl's ghost up around the trough area, riding a tricycle -- the daughter of the Boulderfield Inn Keeper.

There are 9 campsites at the boulder field. It's tempting to reserve one, but you have to way ahead of time, and if the weather's bad the day you planned on going, that's it (unless you are crazy and reserved it all week or something). The boulder field is inhospitible. It's a field of big huge rocks at just under 13,000 feet, for Pete's sake. There are two latrines that you have to climb stairs to get to since they weren't about to dig down in the rock.... they built a big huge bucket and put a latrine on top, about 8-10 feet above the boulders. They have some system there to keep the sewage from getting in to boulder brook. It would be interesting to know how that works, but it appears to be powered by solar panels.

There's also no roof to these things. A man can stand an pee, and he'd be visible from the shoulders up to anyone on the boulder field. Smile and wave, I guess. But people who will hike here, much less camp here, aren't the squeamish type. Hats off to the Mennonite woman.

The sites themselves are areas cleared of boulders .... sort of... there are 4' walls of boulders built in semicircles around each site, which have mainly flat bottoms upon which one can pitch a tent. When you first reach the boulder field, you can't see these sites. They blend right in. Only the tops of the tallest tents poke above the rock walls, and not many are that tall.

I stopped and used one of the latrines (phew!!!! I think the contrast with the fresh 13,000 foot air made them smell all the worse!), and pressed on to where the boulders began to climb to the keyhole where I promised myself a rest, some breakfast, and a look at the knee.

Monday Morning, Rise and Shine

Monday, Aug 20

We brought oatmeal and dried apples, and this was the first morning we had it. We fired up my alcohol stove and I cooked up the oatmeal while Mark made coffee in his camp percolator over the fire.

There's something I forgot about camping out here. If you're not really here to camp-camp, if your camping really has more to do with saving money and being right out there in it the minute you get up so you can rush out and start seeing things -- cooking.... not so much. It's not the cooking that's the problem, it's the cleanup. There are strict regulations (and for good reason) in RMNP about food waste. There's pretty much no washing dishes at the campsite unless you carry the water there, wash, then carry the water to the grey-water sink in the bathrooms and dispose of it. Combine that with the challenges of bathing with a washcloth in cold water in front of a sink, and it's going to take you a while to get out there and start seeing the morning sights - especially if you plan on hiking, and especially if you plan on hiking up high. And you want good light for pictures. Almost every afternoon you can expect clouds to roll in at the very least, and a shower or thunderstorm to threaten you.

Better to bring granola bars and protien bars for breakfast. Coffee or tea for something hot. Its easy enough to clean up a coffee pot. Then go get cleaned up and get out there.

Mark had brought pastrami and wheat bread, which we'd had for lunch and dinner on Saturday ... and for lunch again on Sunday. It was good, and a good thing to do. Fast fixing, fast eating, fast cleanup. We're not really out here to eat. We're eating to be out here.

The oatmeal was good though, and we got out about.... oh... 9:00, 9:30-ish, and headed for the popular lake area... Bear Lake, Dream Lake, Nymph Lake, Hiyaha ... Mills Lake. I'd been to Mills Lake, so I decided we'd start at Bear and work our way up to Hiyaha.

We took some photos of Bear Lake, us in front of it, and we took other peoples pictures for them as is customary. As we left Bear Lake, Mark mentioned some rubbing on the inside of his army boots. He had the two pair of socks on and all. I suggested he put some moleskin over it, but he said he'd tough it out to Nymph Lake. It's not that far, not much more than half a mile. Nymph Lake has a lot of water lillies on it... it's lush and pretty. We left there for Dream Lake, which was crowded, and then headed for Hiyaha.

The views of Hallets and Longs Peaks were ever changing, and the higher up we got the farther up Glacier Gorge we could see. It was a beautiful afternoon with blue skies and very few fair weather clouds. I think a front had come through the night before or early that morning. There would be no showers and thunderstorms today. Each lake seemed closer to Hallets.

On the way up, we ran across a waterfall. It was a small one, about 12 feet, and I walked right up to it. Once there I could see a path up the waterfall by climbing some medium-sized boulders. So I climbed up the waterfall on the right-hand side. When I got to the top, Mark went to snap a picture, and I tottered a bit as I straddled two rocks. I caught my balance and a cheer went up from a few people who had gathered at the stream's edge below. Geez, I didn't realize I had an audience.

At one point, Mark stopped, saying he had to quit. Blisters had developed on his heel. We were about a half mile from Hiyaha. He said he'd head back down to Dream Lake and wait for me there. It wouldn't be long. I headed on up to Hiyaha.

On the way I met a couple coming back, and the man told me that when you get there, the trail just ends in a bunch of boulders and you wonder where the lake is. About 5 minutes later, the story matched up with one Mahtaj had told me about it a few years ago. I had forgotten. She took the Bear Lake bus up there in the rain, and she was the only one leaving down the trail from the bus. Everyone thought she was nuts. Anyway, when she made it up to Hiyaha, she saw the same boulders and climbed over them. She made her way around the lake, but the whole thing was surrounded by these same boulders. They were huge and slippery and she couldn't find the trailhead for about 40 minutes. It was cold, too.

I got there, and I could see what she meant, only it was a much nicer day for me.

I got some trail mix out and ate it, and talked with a few people. There was a pretty lady sitting on a boulder by the lake eating a sandwich, hair blowing in the wind. An older couple came up and we exchanged playing photographer down by the lake. And there was this great windswept pine tree I'd love to shoot some morning when fewer people are there so I can get the angle I want... but I'll put what I got here in this post anyway.

I headed back down to Dream Lake where I found Mark entertaining a chipmunk that a couple of ladies about 30 yards away had been feeding. He was used to being fed. You're not supposed to feed them. It's actually illegal. He was very fat, and came right up and sat on Mark's leg, begging. As we sat and chatted and enjoyed the view, I reached in my bag for my camera. In the process, I spilled some of my trail mix. The ziplock was open, and it came out of my bag and about a cup of it spilled out onto the rock, and into nooks and crannies that made it difficult to clean up. The chipmunk was on it in a flash, grabbing a peanut or a cashew as I scrambled to pick it up. I was just eating it right off the rock as I picked it up, as fast as I could. Hey, it's a clean mountain rock, right?

Seemingly out of nowhere, another, bigger, fatter chipmunk with fuller cheeks chased ours off. This one really didn't need to be eating any of this. Well, he didn't get much. Then he left and the other came back. I was just about finished cleaning it up.

Well, yeah, we did get a picture. I mean. Come on. I really wasn't feeding it on purpose. And I wasn't about to try to take it away from him. About that point he'd change from soft, cute little cuddly thing to fang-baring, clawing Defender Of The Food.

We packed up and hiked back down to Bear Lake and then the parking lot. From there we drove to the Longs Peak ranger station to make sure I could find the trailhead in the dark and to double-check the forecast. Tuesday still looked best. That meant... tonight. The ranger did note that a woman had been rescued there that morning after falling 200 feet from the false keyhole (off route). She had spent the night up there with some broken bones. The we drove into Estes Park and tooled in to town. Mark wanted to see the Stanley Hotel, where "The Shining" was filmed (he likes those horror movies) and stopped for a Mark photo op in front of it. Then we went looking for boots for Mark that wouldn't blister his heels. There are no department stores in Estes Park, but the information center people gave us a lead on a couple of shoe stores. Mark found a decent pair of hiking high-top sneakers built for hiking for about $30. Perfect.

Went to the grocery store, bought a couple of 6 packs, and went to the grubsteak for Elkburgers and beer. They apparently have some work exchange program with Russia and the Ukraine, as that's where all the waitresses seemed to be from. There must be some deal with the whole town of Estes Park, as we found them everywhere. They were young and pretty and had endearing accents.

Started a little fire, roasted some marshmallows. Got the instruments out for a bit and played quietly by the fire.

Set my alarm for 1:00 am. Went to bed. At first, I got extremely chilled for some reason. It was a little cooler tonight, but I think it was my body adjusting from the warmth of the fire to suddenly sliding into a cold sleeping bag. I mean, I was shaking. Hard. I put my fleece jacket on and got back in. That seemed to do the trick after about 5 minutes.

And fortunately, I again slept like a rock.

Two Brothers and On to the Park

Sunday, Aug 19
Unlike the night before, I slept like a rock. And unlike the night before, Mark did not. I brought along my little tiny Zen Nano MP3 player which has a "sleep therapy" track, and as such tracks go, this one is a winner. Plus I was pretty tired from a bad night's sleep, a long drive, and a full stomach. We had bought some beer in Idaho Springs and I had one before I went to bed which pretty much sealed the deal. I bought some local Colorado beer (90 shilling ale), and Mark had bought this Mississippi Mud stuff -- which was pretty good.

So I was looking for two things: coffee and a Two Brothers Deli breakfast wrap. If I'm ever in Idaho Springs in the morning, I like going to the Two Brothers Deli and getting a wrap. In the search for a graphic for this post I just found out that they have another location in Georgetown -- so we could've gone there. But the Idaho Springs location still has the same lady from 5 years ago, and from 25 years ago for all I know. Sweet and new potatoes, scrambled eggs, and a couple of cheeses wrapped in a flour tortilla with optional salsa and then lightly pressed toasted. It must be had to be appreciated. Good stuff! Then off down I-70 East just a mile or so to the US 6 exit, which leads right to C119.

After several miles, a pleasant surprise when we popped over a hill was a kind of a sun dog coming down from a cloud with a spectacular mountain backdrop. We had to stop the car. It's stuff like this that I live for out in the mountains. The unexpected spectacular sight. It was a great photo opportunity, but fleeting. As it faded, we hopped back in the car and wound our way farther north.

The coffee shop in Idaho Springs wasn't open yet. We got some coffee at Two Brothers, but were looking for a really good cup of Joe for the morning. And 119 goes through one of my favorite mountain towns (even though this would only be my second time through) -- Nederland (like "Netherland" with a "d").

It's kind of a hippie mountain town. I once read it described I think on the Hiking in Colorado site as the place where all the old Boulderites moved when the millionaires drove the housing prices up too far and drove them out.

There was a coffee shop there in a railroad car ("Happy Trails"), complete with an array of neo-hippies, cyclists, motorcyclists, and motorists like us, and the coffee was excellent. Put it in our cups and drove off into the morning light.

Another planned stop, which I'd been to twice before was St. Malo's Catholic Church and Retreat Center in Allenspark, at the foot of Mount Meeker (just under 14,000 feet and neighbor to Longs Peak). This is literally on the edge of Rocky Mountain National Park. You can't see Longs from here because Meeker's nearby mass blocks it from view. I knew Mark would love it... and of course, so would I. It's a very small church built of stone back in 1935. Its an interesting story involving a meteor. The setting is certainly inspirational. The morning light and blue sky was perfect for photography, and this time we went in to see the simple but beautiful inside, including a nice stained glass piece of St. Catherine.

We got to Rocky Mountain National Park about 10:30 am, hoping to scout the campsite loop for desirable camp sites and then come back and reserve whatever we found for some combination of 6 nights. The ranger there, however, said he couldn't do that there, that all reservations had to be done through the 800 number or website. We could find a site for that night (no same-day reservations) but we'd need to call the 800 number for the rest.

The 800 number was less than helpful. The lady there said there was no site available for all those nights and seemed not to get the fact that we'd move around if we had to. She gave us a choice of two rather undesirable sites. I thought I'd go book tonight's site at the gate and then see what sites near there were available via the 800 number, taking my chances again.

When I got to the campsite ranger station, there was a new guy there, Steve Miller, who was much more helpful. He not only got us a good site for the first 5 nights, but he got us another not so good but nearby one for the last night for an easy move. Only problem was, Mark wanted to pay his half with credit card and I had cash. Steve thought that would be fine, but then had trouble with the computer system. Eventually I just paid cash as a line developed behind us and a grumpy supervisor came out to see what was the matter.

We went and set up camp in D158, and then early afternoon wandered down to Moraine Park Valley and sauntered along the Big Thompson River bank, where several people were fly fishing. We saw a family of humans and a family of ducks. My duck pictures all turned out blurry since it was getting cloudy and I was using the honkin' telephoto extended all the way out. But rain was coming down the canyon and we started heading back to the car. We reached it just in time, but not before I accidentally yanked the bite valve off of my hydration pack and it spilled all over my pants. That looked real interesting to passers by, I'm sure. But I had extra pants in the car and just changed right there.

We then headed to the Beaver Meadows visitor center for a weather forecast and maybe a souvineir. I had originally planned (hoped) to wait until Thursday or Friday for my Longs Peak attempt so I'd have longer to acclimate, but the forecast definitely pointed to Tuesday for the most worry-free day. Thursday and Friday looked like "normal" summer days at that time with a 20% chance of afternoon storms. Tuesday, a post-frontal day, looked clear. I pretty much made up my mind right there. They had a pewter replica of the USGS marker from the top of Longs Peak... but I told myself I could only buy it if I succeeded in reaching the peak.

After that we went out to find a sight to see. I opted for the Lawn Lake alluvial fan. It turned out to be a great choice. I didn't remember a waterfall being there -- I think I was there in a pretty bad drought year and I think I would've remembered a sight like this. We climbed up on the boulders and had plenty of company just enjoying the sight and sound in the lengthening sunlight.

At this point, I thought maybe this would be a good night to go catch Brad Fitch, otherwise known as Cowboy Brad (Dot Com!!!) who I was introduced to over the net by college friend Sarah. Sarah and her family have come out here often and have seen him a lot. I think they even hired him for an event (anyone here order up a cowboy?) Brad does a lot of his own material, a lot of sing-along material, and a lot of John Denver. He even looks a bit like the late singer/songwriter. He and his wife Kathy seem to be involved with the Estes Park YMCA and other Estes Park endeavors. Sarah had sent him a song I wrote a couple of years ago that he may have been mildly interested in (he went a different direction with the album and didn't use it. No biggie. It wasn't that good a song anyway.) The night before they had given a John Denver Tribute concert to benefit RMNP, I believe, or some associated cause. We missed that (but 2,000 other people didn't! Good for them!), and I didn't know what other night would be good with me doing Longs on Tuesday (meaning getting up at 1:00am Monday "night") and other plans for the week. Tonight was open. We went to see one of his singalongs so I could meet him in person.

It was a very family oriented show, and of course he is more talented than I'll ever be. I'll bet the Denver Tribute concert was great. The singalong was an enjoyable show, and the kids loved it. The man is obviously a genuinely caring good person. It was a pleasure to shake his hand and get a shot with him to prove to Sarah I'd been there.

After the show, I bought his latest CD from him. We went back to camp and had either the last of the pastrami & some trail mix, or some grilled salami. And by that time it was almost time to hit the sack. Which we did fairly shortly.

The Agenda

Those who know me know that I'm typically not agenda-driven -- at least not in any strict, tight sense of the word.

Here was the agenda for the week:

• Go to Rocky Mountain National Park, probably via the C86/C119/C72/C7 scenic route.
• Hike.
• Climb Longs Peak, weather permitting (the major goal)
• Drive up Trail Ridge Road.
• Camp.
• See Brad Fitch, schedule permitting.

None of that in any particular order, other than getting to the Park would obviously have to come first.

I hadn't reserved a camp site. Last time, in early to mid June 2005, I had no problems staying in Moraine Park just re-reserving my camp site every night. This time I knew it might be more crowded, but I didn't want to reserve a camp site I hadn't seen. I'd stayed in 101 and 102 last time on loop A. They were a couple of walk-in sites that were up a hill with a rocky knob hiding the RV's and other non-walk-in sites. They had a nice view of Longs Peak over the trees. But they were under renovation this time. Another thing on the agenda was to check out camp sites for future reference.

The Trip Out

Friday, Aug 17 and Saturday, Aug 18

Friday afternoon I began packing the car from the spare bedroom where I had staged all my camping/hiking gear and supplies for the previous several days. For food I had a bunch of oatmeal, dried apples, dried cranberries, and my own trail mix -- peanuts, cashews, banana chips, and m&m's. Not excactly "GORP", but I like it. I'm not a fan of rasins in things. For dinners, the instant rice meals with dried texturized soy protien (tastes like chicken! -- actually, it tastes like whatever you cook it with. But it's protien.) Enough of everything for the whole week for both of us if we needed it.

I have a Ford Escort, which we were taking for a couple of reasons... one being gas mileage and the other being that slight dynamic shift that happens when you take someone else's car on your vacation. It shifts from someone coming with you on vacation your vacation to you going with someone else on their vacation. I was only too happy to have Mark along, and he was happy to be along -- I just wanted to keep it that way.

I don't know how much you know about Ford Escorts, but one thing is they're not very big. I packed two 36" military duffels with clothes and a tent, sleeping bags, air matress, and... since we were parking and camping -- sheets and a pillow. Then my food and backpacking gear -- both my new big Klamath backpack and two daypacks -- one for me, one for Mark. Hiking poles. And my 10 lbs of various camera gear. I packed my small packable tripod as well as the big one, and after a quick unsuccessful search for my monopod, I decided to forget it. I was packing enough stuff as it was.

I left pretty much half the trunk for Mark, and half the back seat. Threw my crushable hiking hat (with the wider brim to keep the sun off my neck and face) in the back window, and headed for Olathe.

This trip I didn't feel quite the separation anxiety from Vicki I normally do -- probably because she was going to Fort Wayne for the week to be with her mom while she went through some orthroscopic heart surgery to stop the flutter. I guess for some reason home's not quite home without her there, so there was no home to miss, really, and she would be with Mom.

We sat out on Mark & Cami's new deck that Mark built a few weeks ago. It's very nice. About the size of ours only without all the plants out on it. They also have a bigger table. Had a few beers and talked until around 11:00 or so and hit the sack. I only brought in from the car a clean shirt (and of course requisite clean underwear - duh!) and my dop kit.

Cami showed me what button to push on the coffee maker to have it do its thing in the morning before we went to bed. I slept pretty well for several hours, but woke up about 4:30 and couldn't go back to sleep. Probably due to anticipation of the trip. I gave up trying to sleep about 5:30 and got up and went upstairs and pressed the button on the coffee maker.

It just beeped at me.

I tried everything. There has got to be a way to get it to at least stop beeping. But unplugging for 5 minutes seemed to be the only way.

So I went and took a shower and shaved and came back down to try again. Beep-beep-beep.

Sigh.

I went out and did some re-packing in the car.

Came back in. Tried one more time. Only beeping.

So I went downstairs and took down the bed and folded the futon back up. By this time Mark and Cami were up. And, as it turned out, there was a piece missing from the coffee maker which they restored to its rightful place, and all was well with the coffee.

Had breakfast and hit the road about 7:30, with the GPS on the dash recording our progress and the MP3 player blasting out tunes from various groups we chose along the way.

The trip was fairly uneventful, other than a little rain and a few huge chunks of tire from a blown truck tire we had to deftly maneuver around at highway speed. We did see a big pickup hauling an SUV on a trailer coming in the other lane go off the road. At first I thought they were just pulling off on the shoulder, but when they actually went into the median and the truck and SUV and other stuff they were hauling were bouncing all over the place it was clear that they were going way too fast to just be pulling off to the side. If they kept coming across they'd be out of control and in our lane in oncoming traffic. I started looking for escape routes and was just about to floor it (yeah, in an escort loaded down with 500 lbs of stuff its' not used to carrying with the air conditioning running full blast) when the driver seemed to miraculously get it under control and get back on the highway in his own lane.

Whew!

We made good time. Stopped and ate a picnic lunch in McKeeny, KS in a park. It was windy and the air was drier. We even stopped by a bad antique/junk shop for a bit before travelling on. Mostly junk and the stuff that wasn't was even more expensive.

As is customary, I got off of I-70 a few miles north of Limon on 86 and headed for Castle Rock. It's a pretty drive and gets you to the mountains faster than going through Denver. Plus you don't have to see Denver. I didn't come out here to see Denver.

Well it does turn out going this way you do see a bit of the south and west side of Denver. You come up 25 to 470 and hit 70 on the west side and head up into the mountains. I figured it would be hard to get a camp site on a Summer Saturday evening in RMNP, so there was no point in heading there unless I wanted to see Brad Fitch's John Denver Tribute concert -- which I kind of wanted to see but.... it was getting late and we would miss the planned drive up C119 and C7 to Estes Park. So we looked around Idaho Springs for a room. Except for a couple of real dives for about $30 a night, they were full or too expensive, so we headed up to Georgetown (another 10 miles up the road but 1000 feet higher -- good for acclimating) and got a room at the Super 8 there for a reasonable price. The receptionist was a farily colorful guy from Bulgaria, I remember.

Went back to Idaho Springs and went to the Tommyknocker brewery (after calling Vicki and Cami to let them know where we were and we were ok and all) and had beer and appitizers while we watched the locals cheer for the Broncos on the bar televisions. Back to Georgetown and went to bed.

zzzzzzzzzzz....


Oh, and I did snap this shot of the Idaho Springs Elks Lodge on our way back.... Vicki and I will have to hit it when we go back sometime!

I'm Baaaack!

And just to answer the big question:

Yes
I
did.

For the very very brave, there are about 275 pictures out here.

He was born in the summer...

Of his 37th year.

Ok, it was May. But I was 37 the first time I saw the Rockies as an adult. I'd gone out to Denver with Vicki to a conference.

Have you ever seen that Subaru commercial, "Call of the Wild" where all the animals are calling "Ricky!"? (I really like the porcupine, by the way).



Well that's what the mountains did to me in 2001, much to Vicki's chagrin. Actually, no, it precipitated our first real vacation (where you take a whole week off and go somewhere besides a relative's house) then following year. And she likes the mountains just fine. She just wants to go somewhere else now. So do I. But mountains are cheaper! Plus, I promised myself back in 2001 I'd go out there once every year.

Headed out to RMNP with Mark tomorrow morning. Vicki's not going this year. Her mom is having some procedure done to her heart to stop the fluttering.

So at any rate, don't expect any posts for at least a week. Although we will have a laptop and we might find a wireless hotspot. So you never know.

A Quarter Century

We went to my 25th High School Class Reunion, old St. Clair High School last Saturday. We'd gone to my 20th, but I hadn't made it to any of the previous ones for various reasons. Mostly I was looking forward to seeing Curt & Le'Ann again, and Kailey. All of which, I did. But there were a few surprises.

The first one came right after we passed through Warrenton. There was a sign that said that Hwy 47 was closed at the Missouri River. Which meant an hour detour through Hermann. The reunion was in Washington right on the other side of the river -- but we took 94 from Marthasville through Hermann and back to Washington. Pretty drive. But I wasn't in the most appreciative mood at that point (I tried, really! I mean... what are you going to do?) By the end of the detour I had convinced myself that Sandy had told me it might be closed and I had forgotten about it (that would have been just like me), but it turned out neither was the case. She said they'd been inspecting it in the wake of the Minnesota bridge collapse and had closed it for repairs that morning.

The other surprises were much more pleasant. I didn't expect Dean and Nancy to make the trip down from Urbana-Champaign, but they did. I bumped right in to Dave who I shared a locker with in 9th grade and didn't recognize him but he recognized me. And doesn't that make you feel like a cad?

Almost everybody, once you get the name, is recognizable as the person they were 25-29 years ago. But before you got their name on many of them it was more like "you look familiar but I just can't put my finger on it."

This is really strange when it turns out you used to have a bad crush on someone and you're looking straight at them and nothing's clicking. (well not memory-wise anyway). At the 20th I didn't recognize Le'Ann -- part of that is because she was actually in the class of '83 and my brain was scouring for people from my class. She was just "Curt's wife" until she about kicked me in the shin for not remembering her. (Figuratively speaking, of course.) This year it was Kerri -- another one of my old crushes (none of these were reciporical, by the way!) I saw her mingling about all evening but couldn't place her until she was leaving. I was able to get in a quick hi and bye. She still looks great. So does Le'Ann.

Got to meet Dean's wife Nancy -- he did well there, by my impressions. But I think my favorite surprise was Christina (I know everybody calls her Chrissy, but that's not what I learned when I met her back in 5th grade). One of the most genuinely sweet and decent people you could hope to meet, and time has been good to her as well, physically. She was always nice to me, which meant a lot (especially back then). I wish I could say the same thing about me to her -- but unfortunately I do remember a period in grade school where I was probably less than nice to her due to peer pressure -- and I of all people should have known better since I was subject to about the same kind of abuse she was. Thankfully that didn't last long. Not one of the more proud moments in Phil history.

Suffice it to say that if the world were full of Christinas --- well everybody would be women. Ok, that's not where I was going with that. The world would be a much nicer place, though. Anyway, there she is with my very own lovely wife Vicki ... who liked her very much as well.

Four hours was much too short, really. The last one we had started in the afternoon and we didn't end up leaving until midnight -- and we could have gone on.

There were so many people I just enjoyed so much seeing again -- if I didn't mention you that doesn't mean it wasn't good to see you. There was really not enough time (especially after our detour). Which meant the whole situation wasn't conducive to a lot of picture taking (I know, who is typing this and what have you done with Phil?). So I didn't get many. I'm hoping we can email around and pool what we have. Might have a pretty good collection then.

What do you do when you cut yourself brewing?

While cleaning up, I sliced my thumb open on a rough edge on the cut keg that we use to cook the wort in. Didn't notice it right away, but later looked down and saw a bloody thumb.

So I quick got a piece of blue shop paper towel and wrapped it around to stop the bleeding. But I needed more. So I tore a piece of and secured it to my thumb with some duct tape.


Later I looked at my improvised bandaid and had this thought:

"That's not Bandaid. That's a Mandaid!"

Maybe that'll be my million dollar idea.

Beer! Beer! Beer!

That was the subject line on an email Ryan sent me a couple of weeks ago. As in, "let's brew some".

So yesterday I gathered up all my equipment for a day of brewing and headed out to Fulton. It was... hot. But there was a nice breeze until about 2:00pm.

His buddy Scott wanted to participate (I think he was actually the catalyst) and so I'd ordered ingredients for an Amber Ale that Ryan wanted to brew. From grain, for the record.

Things went rather smoothly, but the burner we had was pretty slow. So while we waited for the wort to boil we headed down to the lake with the kyaks and the canoe. My first time in a kayak.

I have got to get me one of those. They're great! So responsive. So ... personal.

Anyway, we went up just before it started boiling, and when it did we put the bittering hops in and went back down to the lake for another 45 minutes.

Ryan wanted someone in the canoe with him to make it easier to paddle around, I guess. So Scott went in with him.... and they dumped trying to push off. Sadly, beer was lost.

But it was my turn when we got out. I didn't pull far enough up and I tipped the kyak getting out. Man, that lake-shore gunk STANKS! (that's the cajun way to put it). It's STANKY stuff.

We got back in time to put the finishing hops in. But couldn't find my double-female-ended hose to hook up the wort chiller. So we improvised with....

DUCT TAPE!!!!!

Which worked just long enough to chill down the double-batch. So now there's 10 gallons of Amber Ale fermenting at Ryan's down in "the bunker".

Incidentally, while cleaning up we found the double-female-ended hose. It was 10' behind us the whole time.

Vizio-Vision

Our 32" Philips brand standard TV started having problems a couple of weeks ago, and within a few days it was defunct. It's probably a power supply problem.

We could get it fixed, but the only place that repairs them around here is 3 months behind on repairs.

And so it was time to go looking for a new TV. And these days, it makes little sense to go out looking for one that won't do HDTV.

I'd seen a couple young ladies coming out of Wally World with an Emerson 32" LCD TV that they'd gotten for $538. I didn't realize they had dropped that far. So I went to the "world of wal" to check out options. One thing I saw was a 37" Vizio (never heard of them at that point) LCD TV that looked pretty darned good for in the mid $700's. We went back and looked and as we were learning to read and interpret specs, there was a Sanyo 37" with a significantly better contrast ratio listed. Based on the spec, and not the fact that the 37" Vizio right next to it looked better to me, we bought it.

I was almost immediately disappointed. Plus, it had two bright pixels on it. I took it back the next day after researching the Vizios (which are getting great reviews for their price range) and bought the 37" one there.

I'd read on the web complaints that it didn't have audio out, with others insisting that it did. I assumed the people who insisted that it did must've found it so I wasn't worried.

Well, it didn't.

Further the "Zoom" button on the remote didn't work. This is a feature you really ought to have for watching programs formatted for wide screen televisions that are presented in standard definition (the "square" 4:3 standard we grew up with). Most of these televisions, as this one, allow you to stretch the picture to fit the screen a couple of different ways, both of which I think are horrible. The distortion is .... bleah!

I then read in the manual that the "zoom" feature was not available on this model.

It turns out that Vizio, like a lot of manufacturers, manufacture some stuff specifically for WalMart. The model numbers usually have a "W" in them somewhere. This one did. Vizio also makes another one with an "X" in the model number that Circuit City and a lot of other places (including Sams Club!) sell. And the zoom feature is on that model. So are audio outs.

And get this.... it was $17 cheaper.

I took that one back and got the one from Sams Club.

So we had 3 new televisions in 3 days. But this one will do the trick. We got an upconverting DVD player, and the picture is amazing. We have no immediate plans to go to HD programming over the satellite (which is one reason we wanted the zoom feature... for letterbox movies presented on a 4:3 screen coming over the satellite). The picture looks fine. No, the blacks aren't black black, but they're not bad. The picture looks at least as good as our old 32" standard (which, by the way, is the main reason we got the 37" ... it's vertical dimension is about the same as the vertical dimension on the 32" ~19". We didn't want to lose picture size from "regular" TV.) Actually, I think it looks a little better.

So we went through all the Harry Potter movies testing it out. And went to see that last one at the theater one more time since I felt I'd missed a few key things the first time around.

So that's that in TV land.

Sinkage

Our master bathroom, such that it is (is there such a thing as a "galley" bathroom? If so, can one be considered a "master" bath? ... but I digress) -- anyway, it has a 2-double-cabinet, 6' counter.

And one sink. Well all the Jones' seem to have two sinks these days, and there is often sink contention in the mornings.

Well it did. After years of scheming, I finally got the plumbing supplies, cut the requisite holes in the wall and floor, and plumbed up a drain for a second sink. Went under the house, cut open the existing line, added elbows, couplers, and "T"'s along with some regular pipe. Bam! Then off to Lowes' for new sinks (the one that was there was also getting hopelessly rusty).

Got the new sinks and some water supply line and a couple of "T"'s for those, and we're in sink heaven.

But apparently not medicine cabinet heaven, as I soon found out. Vicki has long hated the gigantor 6' mirror we had there and our miniature model of a medicine cabinet (hey, I didn't buy it ;-) ) on the wall to the right. She wanted big ones.

And big ones we got. She even sprung for them her own bad self. And now we're in medicine cabinet heaven.

But not "white cabinet" heaven. So we spent an afternoon painting the dark cabinets white. And now it's a brighter place. We're in white cabinet heaven.


But not light fixture heaven. Or electrical outlet heaven.

So I went out and got two new light fixtures that had been given the official Vicki Seal of Approval™ on a previous trip and brought them home. We have them temporarily jerry-rigged with lamp cord where they'll end up permanently. But really, with all the rewiring that needs to be done, I think it will be easiest to cut out a 6'x4' piece of drywall and do all of it, then slap a new piece of drywall up and mud it and sand it and paint it. Really. I think it will be easier. Which is not to say that it's something that can be knocked out in an afternoon.

At that point we should be in bathroom heaven except for the tile job we want to do.

Ah, the joys of home ownership.

The Bart Saga - A Truce?

We may have found the solution to the Bart "stinking outside the box" problem. It appears to have been working pretty well for the last two or so months.

Back when we had Bart and Theo, there were problems with Theo peeing over the edges of the litterbox. This was because he always backed up to the edge of the litterbox before starting... and he was a big cat. I first solved this with the "Kitty Butt Shield" -- an invention I came up with involving basically extending the walls of the litterbox upward to prevent this from happening. It worked pretty well. But then we simply bought a big plastic bin for a litterbox. We dump a ton of that scoopable litter in it, and it seemed to work well.

For some reason we went to replace it one year and I couldn't find one the size I wanted with reasonably short sides that the cat could still hop in. So I cut one side down to the right height, leaving the rest nice and tall.

Bart eventually took to peeing in front of the litterbox at times, so I moved the box right up to the kitty bathroom door (a hole in the wall behind the toilet downstairs leading into the space under the stairs where the litterbox is). The tall walls would deter him from going elsewhere under the stairs to do it, and the proximity to the door meant that once through the door he would be IN the litterbox. No choice.

So he started peeing outside the door by the toilet instead.

He was also leaving us solid treasures near the bottom of the stairs.

At any rate I decided, after trying cat-scrams (with some success, but their effect wears off on him after a while) and various litterbox positions like this and even a bit of flashing to eliminate the "corner" outside the litterbox door that he favored -- each providing limited, but temporary improvements, I noted that when he did this there was usually a large, wet clump in the litterbox RIGHT INSIDE ... that he would have to step in to get anywhere else in the litterbox.

I also noticed that, in a most un-catlike fashion, he wasn't burrying stuff like cats do, and hadn't been for some time.

So I decided to do two things. Vicki thought I needed to move the litterbox back so it wasn't right next to the door anymore. Like he felt a bit crowded in there. So I did. But he soon peed right in front of the litterbox againSame problem... big clump right at the part of the litterbox where it was easiest to get in. So I cut the entire front side of the box down to that level. He seemed to like that better.

And I switched litter. Actually it's the cheapest scoopable stuff available at Walmart now. "Special Kitty". Works fine. In addition, I added a "foyer" - basically, a low clear plastic container that is about as wide as the front of the litterbox that fits neatly between the litterbox and the door that he has to walk through to get in the litterbox. This is in case he decides to occasionally pee in front of it to show his displeasure. At least we can just rinse it out and put it back.

Well, that seems to have done the trick with one caveat: We have to clean his litter every 48 hours, pretty much, or he'll pee in the foyer. But that's much easier to deal with now. He's burrying his stuff again (I think he didn't like the litters we'd been using. Could've been the scent, I don't know). And he fills the thing pretty well in 48 hours. That cat drinks a lot. And he's not diabetic. He just likes water. He's fascinated with it. He wants to lick it out of the tub after we get out. He wants to drink it from the bathroom sink. He loves to watch it swirl down the toilet. And if there's condensation on your glass, well he'll be there to lick it off.

So at least we've reached some sort of truce on what is acceptable to him for a litterbox. As long as we clean it every 48 hours, use that unscented litter, and provide him easy access to hop in the litterbox from an entire side of it, he appears happy with it.

Passport Woes are Over

Incidentally ....

Vicki's passport showed up yesterday. So the "new" birth certificate and letter did the trick.

Tight Fence

I've been planning to do this for quite some time. My electric fence around my tiny garden has long suffered from posts and insulators that were too flexible and stretching wire. It looks sloppy, and the bottom wire touches the ground -- not excactly what you want on an electric fence.

Earlier this summer I replaced the posts with more sturdy ones, and the plastic insulators with ceramic ones.

But the stretching still happened. So a few-years-old plan has now been implemented.



Each stretch of wire now has a spring in the middle of it. I got some pipe bending springs from Hoods for 88 cents apiece, and cut them in half because ... hey, the spring doesn't have to be THAT long, and half a spring is still a spring. Then I bent out the end coils on each one to form hooks, snipped the electric fence wires in the middle and made loops to hook the springs on.

Voila! Tight fence.

Walkabout Recap

Guess I never got around to telling you about the overnight walkabout a couple of weekends ago.

Ryan and I hiked in to Cedar Creek forest about 6:30 friday night, July 6.

All we had with us was a knife, a flint, and a water bottle.

.
.
.

Two tents, sleeping pads, candle lanterns, lighters. Pipes. A couple of folding camp stools. Whiskey. And a couple of pistols just in case. GPS. 4 cornish game hens. A couple of potatoes. Trail mix. Oatmeal and apples for the morning. Mini alchohol stove. Head lamp. A thing of camp spices. 4 beers. A hatchet. And a hiker's water filter.

Yeah we were each carrying about 50 lbs, including a gallon of water each. Not excactly "Man vs. Wild".

But it was fun.

These walkabouts were started by Ryan's grandfather, his Mother's father. When he was a boy, he and his grandfather would pack some hotdogs & buns and a pan into the woods, make a little campfire, cook the dogs, eat them. His grandfather would teach him a few outdoor skills. Then they'd go back. I don't think it was even very far into the woods.

Ryan, as a teenager, really wanted to go on Outward Bound, and saved his money to go. As it turned out, some juvenille delinquents were "sentenced" to it... they "had" to do it and didn't want to and didn't pay for it. Ryan was the opposite. He wanted to do it so bad he saved up his money and paid for it. And early on in the trip he slipped and fell in a stream, cutting his face up pretty bad. They were going to evacuate him, but no way was he going. He ended up doing the whole trip. I think it was out on the Appalachain Trail.

Me, I watched two of my older brothers go through cub scouts, webeloes, and boy scouts when we lived in southern California when I was very young. I couldn't wait to get into cub scouts.

But it never happened. We moved away from California about the time I would've been doing that, and life changed dramatically for the Leith family. The closest I ever got was a brief stint in 4-H... and my project was our 7-year-old poodle. Not excactly hiking and camping and pinewood derby.

I do remember family camping in the Sierra Nevada mountains a couple of summers when I was a kid, and those memories probably have a lot to do with my love for mountain air. Baking pine needles, lofty peaks, cascading streams -- and camping.

Anyway, as we were roasting our game hens on a spit, drinking a beer, smoking a pipe by the light of the Uco candle lanterns and campfire -- I think Ryan's grandfather was at light's edge watching in approval. We could almost feel him.

There are wild dogs and coyotes out there and we were probably a good hour and a half from medical help. But headlamp scans of the surrounding forest showed nary an eyeball. Cant' say the same for Alley Spring, where all evening raccoons were battling for position in the shadows to invade the campsites the moment our lanterns were snuffed.

There was a lot to do. We really didn't have anything to eat the game hens on, so we picked it apart with our fingers. It was good, but messy. It occured to us that perhaps cooking the food at the camp fire so close to our tents might not have been the best idea because of the wildlife it attracts, but we burned the bones, the wrapping, and anything food-like in the hope that the rest of the camp site would not attract any unwelcomed visitors. That seemed to work.

We didn't turn in until about 1:00 am. I woke up to birds about 5:00 am. A whipoorwill whipooorilled outside of my tent briefly, then flew on. Got up about 7. Cooked our oatmeal, then went down to the creek to clean the pans and get more water.

That's where I took the hummingbird moth picture.

We broke camp and hiked out about 2 or 3 miles to the Calloway County side where Kristie picked us up at about 1:00 pm.

Hummingbird Moth

From the weekend walkabout at Cedar Creek.

4th of July and a visit from Aunt Pat

Aunt Pat is up from Florida for the second year in a row. That's a lot of driving. She's up here visiting the various people in the Missouri wing of the Leith clan. We all went out to Mom & Dad's on the 4th and had ham sandwiches and such and shot the breeze.

Literally.

Jeff and I went out and shot off a few rounds from my .22 & .38 pistols... and he brought his Taurus 4410 (also known as a 45-410). It's a nifty little wheel gun that shoots 5 rounds. It'll fire 410 shotgun shells (2.5") and .45 long colt rounds as well. He brough some clay targets and we tossed 'em up and blasted them from 10-15 feet. I think I'll get one. It's a substantial piece of self-defense weaponry that has some versitility to it. You can use the shotgun shells for "safe" home defense or varmint killing, and .45 could offer adequate bear protection when hiking as a last resort. Or stop a determined assailant if the 410 shells didn't get the message across.

Plus it's just cool.

Met a couple of Dawn's kids (I guess that makes them "first cousin, once removed"). Nice girls, and pretty ones, too. Uncle Ed and his wife Pat were there (not to be confused with the "other" Aunt Pat. At one point we had two sets of Uncle Eds and Aunt Pats -- a source of much amusement when we were kids). Joel was there sans Dawn (that's his wife Dawn, not our cousin Dawn) because she had to work, and of course Tom & Betty Jeff & Cindy.

Aunt Pat followed us home Wednesday and stayed with us 6 days. We had a nice visit. I did go on walkabout with Ryan Friday night/Saturday, and she played some rounds of golf with Sam & Co. a couple of days.

Vicki's been coming down with a cold that I hope she gets over soon. Sore throat, feeling just generally icky and all. But she still smiles and presses through it. A trouper, that one.

Bought some Flat Iron Steak last night and used a little Kroger steak marinade on it and did it out on the grill. It was pretty darned good. I think we'll do that again. That and some pepper/onion kebobs. Vicki and Aunt Pat spent a lot of time playing cards. I got out the guitar and I was even ginned up enough to sing along even though there were people there.

I have not been riding the bike the last two weeks. I didn't ride today because we're going to the Elks for Sam's birthday after work. But I need to crank it back up this week.

And it looks like Mark will be going with me to RMNP this August, if all goes well. Vicki wants to visit her mom, so she won't be along. This sets up perfect conditions for a guy trip. So I need to get that planned out.

Well, as planned as I ever do it ;-)

A shotgun pattern of things

This last week's been pretty busy. It started out with a scare with Vicki's mom. Susie had been trying to get hold of her after an afternoon doctor appointment. Mom was supposed to call her when she "got back from the doctor". Well Susie'd been trying her since 6pm, and at 10pm, she called us. We got Susie B. (different Susie) from across the street to go check on her, and Mom's car wasn't there. Well within a half hour the phone rings and the caller id says Lutheran Hospital.

Fortunately, it's mom and not some doctor on the phone and she's ok. We told her that Susie was expecting a call from her when she got home from the doctor. She replied "well I'm not home from the doctor yet." Well good, her sense of humor is intact as well. Anyway, she went to the doctor for "heaviness" in her legs, some swelling and discoloration. Turns out her heart's not ticking quite right and the swelling and heaviness is blood that isn't getting back to her heart fast enough and it's kind of collecting there, causing the discoloration as well. And that can lead to blood clots. Which can then break free and go clog up a valve or chamber in your heart and do you in. So they sent her to the hospital to get her on blood thinners and a close watch pronto.

Vicki drove up Tuesday Night/Wednesday to be with her and make sure all the right questions got asked and help her get everything she needed. She was discharged Thursday and Vicki came home Sunday.

So I "bach"-ed it here in the mean time.

Fixed some things around the house and started working on the garage. We decided we're going to hang our sleeping bags. They shouldn't really be stored rolled up and compressed. So I put up some short closet rods perpendicular to the wall alongside the storage shelves to hang a bunch of camping/hiking stuff on. And I hung the ladders. Located a smelly dead mouse under the freezer compressor, vaccumed out behind the freezer and the beer refrigerator (both in the garage) and cleaned the coils (they needed it badly).

Well all this means the bikes have to go somewhere else. We only have a 1 car garage, and we have camping equipment, beer brewing equipment, lawn & garden stuff, car stuff, tools, various pieces of scrap lumber, bird seed, coolers, spare electronic equipment ..... it adds up. But I don't want our bikes just sitting out in the weather. I can put them under the deck, but that's almost worse because dirty water drips between the boards when it rains which would make them both wet and dirty and slow to dry to boot.

So I went to Hoods and bought the stuff to make a little bike shelter, and I bought a bike rack to lock them to. Just a shelter built with a 2x2 frame, a plywood roof, with some vinyl shake siding for "shingles". Haven't built it yet. But the garage is shaping up.

Did some vaccuuming. Cleared the basement of moldy smell (I think I talked about that last time).

Oh, and almost killed the cherry tomatoes.

I sprayed some roundup all around the edges of the garden -- very carefully trying to hit only the weeds growing out from under the edges of the tarpaper. Then it rained for about 3 days, and when the sun came out, the tomatoes wilted. The tops of the other two tomato plants wilted as well. But the next day those two appeared to have recovered. Not so the the cherries. So I tore the tarpaper up from around them and just doused the soil with water. Next morning, some of the wilty stuff was perking up and most of the rest of it looked less wilty.

Next afternoon, it looked pretty bad, but not quite as bad as the afternoon before. I repeated the waering. Next morning, more improvement. Next afternoon, less setback. And again the next day. So I think with some TLC they'll shake it off.

We switched from Mediacom cable modem to Centurytel DSL -- in a package deal that gives us internet, phone + unlimited long distance and Dish Network sattellite for less than we were paying for all that before (without the unlimited long distance) AND... it all comes on one bill. Which Vicki likes.

Going out to Mom & Dad's tomorrow. Aunt Pat is there. I imagine we'll see Uncle Eddie and Julie and Dawn, at least. The brothers, too. Aunt Pat's following us back here afterward for a visit and some computer work on my part. And friday evening Ryan and I are going on an overnight walkabout because Kristie's kicking him out for a bachelorette party she's hosting. So we're looking forward to that.

I got my passport last week, just so I'll have one. Vicki's was rejected due to her adoptive birth certificate -- they didn't like it. It's the one her parents got when they adopted her. It's worked all her life for everything else. She had also sent off for two more official copies from Indiana after we sent that one off (her only copy) and we remembered the Marines had lost Brian's. The new ones are different. We wonder if they'll suffice -- but get this, nobody at the passport information help center can tell us. They say "well, try this. It should work. Maybe." But with twelve week waiting periods this could easily stretch out to 6... 9 ... 12 months (it's already been three). And adoption records are closed in Indiana. They will not give Vicki the information she would need to go the other two routes they suggested ... and the state department help line could not tell us what we could do about it -- "I don't know", said THREE people, and all three of them refused to transfer us to somebody who could tell us.

Now damned sure if Vicki stopped paying her taxes they'd show up at OUR door and take HER straight off to jail without asking any of these questions that they want her to answer to prove she exists and is a U.S. Citizen.

We're hoping the new birth certificate and a letter of explanation will suffice. One guy "thinks" it "should".

Sheesh.