Seven Seven, Duh

Four more days to fortify the upper body strength, the better to haul on ropes, carry backpacks, and swing from limbs over swollen creeks.  Still grinning.

Jul 6

 Today is Quit Smoking Day!  Goob Luck!

Minkey the Monkey is listening intently to advice provided by James' way or the highway.

Here's what he might say to counsel Minkey for the upcoming hike.

Leaves of three, let them be.

Jul 5

Roses are supposed to be cooling flowers, that calm the fiery Pitta.

I am packed!  Back pack, mat, bags and cake in the suitcase!

Packed and peaked.  My body moves in languid slow motion as a sprinter coming to the starting blocks after having run three practice trials already.  Again! the sargeant barks.

And finally, a rose sunset one could love languidly.

Independence Day

The rain last night was eerily beautiful as a backdrop to those early fireworks down the lake, held down low over the water by pouring downdrafts.  The empty envelopes on the table seal themselves with the heavy fog and humidity.  The salt shaker, partially filled with uncooked rice, oxidizes its own metal lid and turns the clumps of salt green.  But our skin is wonderfully moist and youthful.

And we are free to enjoy the calm before the next round of Pounding Purple Pagodoas or Twenty-Four Cannons.  Happy Fourth of July to all!

A Baking Injury

Three reasons for hand chopping a cup of cranberries and pecans with a paring knife:

1.  The electric minichopper did not have the chops for dried cranberries

2.  Fresh cranberries don't exist in the produce section in July, and

3.  No big sharp blade lives at the lake.

 

My left forearm aches with an overuse injury from the resistant fruit stiffies.  And now the cranberry pecan pinwheels bake up to be the least appealing cookie because of the coarse chopping.

The cherry chocolate cookies are perfect.

The chocolate chip spice cookies will not be making the trip to Colorado because they are beyond perfect.  

Jul 2

Half of the year remains to become picture worthy.

We had visitors at the lake.  A gaggle of geese came to eat grass.

Their entrance was the crumbling retaining wall at the corner of Beach and Boathouse.  All they wanted was a little green after all that blue.

I saw Jim later with a shovel, cleaning up the grass.  Do you think geese watch the fireworks at night?

Rabbit Rabbit

Lake season is about to begin.  The pink rabbits are placed at the ready, En garde, les enfants!

In the pasture adjacent to the Sea to Sebago Trail, where the bull recently ate grass, logging trucks now graze on the pines.  A new dirt road carved into the woods makes way for development.

A swashbuckling challenge against the tree grabber machine by someone in running shoes, panting, sporting a sweaty croakie doesn't seem a wise fight.  So the En garde is only in my mind.

Tibbar Tibbar

Where to fit all those cakes?

The pack weigh-in was, of course, a little heavier than expected.  One mat weighs 3 oz more than the same mat with a patch on it.  Is one more affected by the humidity?  The blue AOPA ball cap weighs less than the blue Greenville ball cap, weighs less than the turquoise Micucci's ball cap.  The air pillow weighs half as much as the fabric pillow.  And so it goes.

My burly hiking companions will carry the lion's share of the community goods since I weigh less than last year and therefore must carry less.  Good for them!

Jun 29

The Pleasant Mountain backpack-shakedown-after-repair succeeded more than anticipated.  Thirty pounds this time, hauled up 1500 feet in 100 minutes.  No injuries, no blisters, no insect bites, no shirt fraying.  It was a hazy view at the top with one other hiker stranger wearing a black jogbra and sporting a very pale abdomen.  That and multiple belly button piercings.  She wished me a good day and ran off down the hill.  I lingered to take photos and drink the remainder of the water.

Jim asked why didn't I just cut the loops off the part of the velcro that stuck to my shirts.  A man of simple solutions.

Jun 28

Yesterday I did something that pleased me to no end.

For years my backpacking shirts have come away from their trips worn and frayed on the back shoulders. There are wide Velcro strips that help to keep the shoulder straps of my pack in place.  But the pack fits best with about 2 inches of Velcro showing, and they rub on the the shoulders.  Last year was aggravating enough to stuff hankies under the straps.

Well, yesterday I cut the Velcro strips loose from their binding, and handsewed them about 2 inches further up the straps.  And today I will climb Pleasant Mtn without feeling like a puppet, strung from the shoulders.

Jun 27

Old friends check in and catch up.  New friends appear and play jazz music or sing gospel songs.

The old pound cake holds together well in the backpack.

The new chocolate sauerkraut cake tastes like sauerkraut.

Duh.

Note to self: The blueberry muffins need more than a pinch of salt and less time in the oven.

Jun 26

The NYC pics were reviewed; so much fun in such a short time.  My flight arrived after the planned Statue of Liberty ferry departure, so I asked my Seattle friends on the ferry to get me a green sponge Liberty crown while I waited for them on land in Battery Park.

They were kind and generous enough to bring me this most meaningful souvenir.

Yesterday at the Strawberry Festival,

the rain did not deter those

intent on shortcake or cheesecake.

Today I am baking cakes as an experiment to see if they'll hold up in the backpack.  The first is an orange/lemon pound cake.  Next will be a blueberry cake.  And third, a chocolate sauerkraut cake.

Christmas in June

Today is the Strawberry Festival where one strawberry shortcake with whipped cream is worth at least 10 points plus, probably half the daily food allotment.  It was a food celebration in NYC last week; knishes, corned beef sandwiches on rye, pain au chocolate, lasagna, Big Sour Apple martinis.  So there will be more of the same weight to lose all over again.

This is a sight not seen in NYC. These hooves are awfully long and pointed for a cow.  Could this pickup be hauling a small dead moose?  I was on the way to the dump and was sure this truck would just pull in ahead of me.  But it drove on past the turnoff.  Seeing that makes it easier to control the appetite.  I hope he's not going to the Strawberry Festival.

Jun 24

Practice yesterday up Pleasant Mtn in the rain, visibility 125 feet, new boots, 10 lb pack.

It was a lark!

Today instead of meditating and jogging, I am messing about with pack items, reviewing old treks, weighing new toys, and practicing making decisions.

Jun 23

 Examining the trek path from the side and from the top, the whining begins.

Why can't we start out easy when we're carrying the heaviest loads?  Why is it so long?  Why are there three peaks to climb instead of two? Who brought this damned grill anyway?  Are we there yet?

SILENCE!

I imagine the guido yells.  He sweeps the whine out of my brain none too gently, and replaces it with one-pointed determination, good cheer, and ingenuity to find the most amusing path.  Will that be outrunning the grizzly at Grizzly Creek or watching which way the water flows on the Continental Divide?