Jul 15

Yesterday we were water babies, from above and below.

Crossing Rock Creek yesterday morning, we kissed feet to the fish, and in camp next to Johnson Creek the rain came down.
We were well protected with tarps and tents.

We crossed Johnson Creek today and began climbing again after all that lovely downhill.

I have had enough climbing and am threatening to use the final phrase, the secret phrase that stops the beatings from going too far.  "F*** it, I can't go on."

Bastille Day

Allons, Enfants...

I am lifted up on wings of eagles.  I am transported to a time of celebration.  I am liberated.

Jul 13

Another pass coming up this morning!

Hunchback Pass, 12,493 feet!

The camp will be this side of Rock Creek.  We'll save the creek crossing for tomorrow morning when the water is lower and the dogs are rested.  Just 6 miles today before a nip nap.  Yay!

Jul 12

It will be a hike to Bear Creek, up one pass of 12,690 feet, then down to the creek to set up camp at 11,900 feet.

Maybe we'll get to use the ropes we've packed to climb up and belay down.  So far, so good.

Jul 11

The Beginning!!

Hop on the train that takes us to Elk Park Trailhead.

Wear sunglasses in case the cinders from the smokestack fly back into your eyes.  Sit on the downwind side.

Try to get a seat by the window and the view of the waterside.

Think about the beauty, not the heavy backpack.  After all attempts to lighten the load, the pack weighs 44 pounds at the start.  It's all uphill from here for the next 4 miles today.  And then a beautiful meadow, full of blooming Indian paintbrush, awaits our little tents.

Happy Birthday, Brian!

And wishes for many more!  The man born on this day enjoys the limelight.  He does well in the public eye as an artist, musician, and sunny man.  It is July, after all, and mostly sunny.

Today I'm cramming for the hike.

Cramming information, not pack stuff or food (although we have planned a wonderful prehike supper of macaroni and cheese, home made oat bread with lots of butter, broccoli, Olathe corn on the cob if it's ready, and a green lettuce salad).  Also planned is a good night's sleep tonight after sightseeing in the beautiful Montrose grocery stores.

Jul 9

Another travel day, this time to Colorado and the great outdoors.  The plane ride is less than an hour, but the suitcase carrying the backpack, poles, and gear requires three hours and twenty-five bucks to get checked, xrayed, searched and stamped with TSA approval. 

Smooth sailing through DIA.  Onward and upward.

Jul 8

I'm golfing in Sidney if the weather holds.  That, and acclimating to a little higher altitude.

I promise to smell the flowers along the way, eat every bean and pee on my plate.  (Hee hee.)

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.