Saddle Mountain Wildflower Hike

So, it took a while to get settled in after returning from Hawaii, but considering it was probably the worst four months of our lives and is going to take months if not years to repair the financial damage, I think we're doing okay again. We've got a home and jobs now, and can begin pretending that the whole disastrous move never happened. Friends and family know the details, I won't bore anyone who stumbled on this blog looking for hiking posts. In that vein, here's a hiking post! We're hitting the trails and loving hard on Oregon all over again.

The fenced-in, trash-littered summit of Saddle Mountain leaves something to be desired. But the trail is a fun thigh-burner, and we took some of the best pictures we have since moving to Oregon (the first time). See if you concur:

2-3 hours, 5 miles

2010: All These Worlds Are Yours

2009 is over, in all its ups and downs. It's the year I:

1. Turned 30 on the Green Sand Beach on the Big Island

2. Got married to the love of my life at 14,000 feet on a volcano

3. Planned and attempted the JMT

4. Climbed South Sister

5. Took a rad mountain biking vacation to Central Oregon

6. Started and stuck with Pilates, which has led to greater fitness overall

7. Enjoyed a family trip to Vancouver, BC and seriously considered becoming Canadian

8. Hiked Ape Canyon, the Timberline Trail and new spots in the Gorge

9. An old friend relocated to Portland and merged my old world with my new one.

10. Mr A changed jobs after 5 years (woo-hoo!)

On the other hand, it was also a year of regrets, confusion, loss of identity and disappointment. One of my closest friends moved away, another lost his job. I don't think I need to even mention the economy at this point, since the recession still weighs on everyone I know. I am fortunate to have kept my job, but I did take a significant hit and was lucky enough to pick up a second job.

I want 2010 to be a year of clean slates and opportunities taken. So far, it's shaping up that way. I'm excited and hopeful, and my husband shares the sentiment. We're in the process of deciding whether to move to Hawaii, like for good. It's awesome and scary, and a lot of my feelings about this year are playing into our decision to start a new phase of our lives.

So, give me about a month and hopefully I'll have some new adventures to write about. In the meanwhile, here is a photo recap of things I'm have no words to write about:

Closed For the Season

Super fail!

So, I'm back from the John Muir Trail. And I've been back a while, but feeling a little too dejected to write anything here.

Anyway, all my planning for the hike went off without a hitch. Somewhat amazingly, I would've pulled it off had it not been for the limitations of my own body. What I couldn't plan for was altitude sickness, which -through a series of unlucky mishaps- derailed my trip entirely within the first week. In the short time I was on the trail I learned that I am not only virtually useless with a pack over 10,000 feet, but that I also don't like being alone in the woods in bear country. Lack of sleep from anxiety coupled with altitude sickness (and the ensuing loss of appetite) does not make for a happy hiker. I could've chosen to wait it out and then do a section hike, but I didn't. I'm not sure why... I just may have been too overwhelmed at the moment I made the decision to call it all off.

I came home pretty bummed, to say the least. My friends and family were very supportive, and after a few days I started attempting to turn my disappointment into a learning experience. So far what I've come up with is to stop trying to do everything alone! If I'd have had a partner for the JMT I might not have been so likely to turn back when I started feeling crappy, and I certainly wouldn't have been as nervous at night. Dr B. has already suggested we do a section hike of the trail together next year.

In that spirit, we went out to Bend this weekend and got me back on the horse. Dr. B was not interested in the 5,000 ft. elevation gain climb of South Sister (even though we saw kids in jeans coming down from the summit) but he did drive me, camp with me, and entertain himself mountain biking around Sparks Lake while I tackled the beastly red pumice slopes to the top. That was Sunday, when I was supposed to be coming up the backside of Mount Whitney -- the view from Mount Adams to Mount Shasta was a decent consolation prize.

No more adventures for me for a while, though. I feel like I have some sort of Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome and I need to distance myself from the experience. We're going to work on buying a house, I'm going to attempt to dedicate myself to running and Pilates while working as much as possible. This probably won't make for very interesting blog posts, so this site may get sleepy for a while. Thanks for reading and commenting, as always, and thank you to all the supportive people I met on the trail. Thanks also to the smart thru-hiker on Amtrak who encouraged me to get back on the horse as soon as possible, and to Ken Harper, an ex-writer for the Christian Science Monitor and fellow Dostoyevsky enthusiast, whom I spent the most fascinating three hours sitting next to on the flight home. This experience was a hard lesson for me, and I have no idea what it will mean for me in the future.

Our Cog Wild Tour, 2009

In the summer of 2009 we booked a guided mountain bike tour with Cog Wild, in our favorite mountain town ever, anywhere, Bend, Oregon. We chose the "Bachelor to Bend" 20-30 mile package - I was new to mountain biking at the time, but felt that I could probably manage that amount as if was mostly downhill.

We opted to rent bikes. Mine was a top of the line Gary Fisher, and Dr. B's was a Specialized Stumpjumper (which he fell in love with to the point of buying one within months of our ride). We brought our own helmets, pedals and shoes and clothing.

Our guide was Melanie, one of the owners. Another couple started with us, but the guy had to bail due to stomach troubles early on, so she ended up guiding just us three. A shuttle dropped us near Tumalo Falls, and followed a riverside path towards town. There were plenty of ups and downs, but the terrain was manageable for a tough newbie like me. Once we got to the KGB/Whoops trail section of the ride things got a little more fun. I believe the Whoops trail is supposedly named for the sound you make sailing over the top of its rollers. Dr B was flying down the trails, while Mel waited patiently for us girls. At one point we snacked on strawberries and sandwiches packed by our guide, and I remember thinking what a cool life she seemed to have.

After the awesomeness of that section we climbed closer towards town, with views of the Cascade volcanoes all around. This part was a little more challenging and exposed to the sun, but soon enough (too soon) we were on the road descending back into town. Back at the office, we received cold beer and complimentary water bottles. We purchased maps of the area from Cog Wild, knowing that getting back to the trails where we had been would be difficult on our own, and wanting to mark the route while it was still fresh in our minds. Definitely I wouldn't want to do it without a car shuttle, as some of those well-hidden( and well-ridden) trails are one-way. Looking back, I would still go with Cog Wild, even being a little more experienced years later. A great business, and great fun.

Dear Vancouver: I Like You, Do You Like Me, Too?