Wed - June 2, 2004
HAIR TODAY, GONE NEXT WEEK
Thanks to the support of friends, family and
Frank, the understanding stylist who listened to everything I uttered, I'm
sporting a new, short hairstyle.
Before/After
It's pretty carefree, but like all equipment, needs to be tested in the field! Under hats, bandanas, and on the trail after a few hours of hot hiking.
Frank says I can come back if I decide to go shorter, but he wanted to make it so I could pull it back if I liked. He is a wise man.
Thanks to John for taking the pictures!
It's pretty carefree, but like all equipment, needs to be tested in the field! Under hats, bandanas, and on the trail after a few hours of hot hiking.
Frank says I can come back if I decide to go shorter, but he wanted to make it so I could pull it back if I liked. He is a wise man.
Thanks to John for taking the pictures!
Posted at 01:04 PM Read More
Tue - June 1, 2004
HAIR AGONY
After almost 40 years of having waist-length
hair, I'm getting it cut tomorrow. And getting it cut short.
Part of the preparation for this trip is
mental.
Part of the preparation for this trip is physical.
And part of the preparation is... cutting my hair short!
I remember coming out of the trek 25 years ago and taking my first shower in 5 weeks. I washed my hair THREE times, and it seemed like dirt and dust was STILL coming out of it. I am positive that one of the pounds I lost that time around was in dirt.
So this time I'm going to try the short-hair option, with the idea that I can wear a bandana, or headband, or hat, which will keep annoying little hairs from flying in my face at inopportune moments.
Unfortunately, it's scary. The last time I had my hair short was probably in third grade, and I remember it falling from behind my ears and dripping into my soup. I hated it at that length, and vowed that I'd let it grow and never have short hair again.
Famous last words.
I've circulated possible hair styles and asked friends and family what they think. The response has been mixed (no one style winning out) with sage advice about the annoyance of long bangs and the value of having enough length that you can pull back. I value every opinion, as each is born of personal experience.
I will be glad when this is over and all I have to do is deal with what's been done.
It's going to be fine.
I'm going to be fine.
It's only hair.
Part of the preparation for this trip is physical.
And part of the preparation is... cutting my hair short!
I remember coming out of the trek 25 years ago and taking my first shower in 5 weeks. I washed my hair THREE times, and it seemed like dirt and dust was STILL coming out of it. I am positive that one of the pounds I lost that time around was in dirt.
So this time I'm going to try the short-hair option, with the idea that I can wear a bandana, or headband, or hat, which will keep annoying little hairs from flying in my face at inopportune moments.
Unfortunately, it's scary. The last time I had my hair short was probably in third grade, and I remember it falling from behind my ears and dripping into my soup. I hated it at that length, and vowed that I'd let it grow and never have short hair again.
Famous last words.
I've circulated possible hair styles and asked friends and family what they think. The response has been mixed (no one style winning out) with sage advice about the annoyance of long bangs and the value of having enough length that you can pull back. I value every opinion, as each is born of personal experience.
I will be glad when this is over and all I have to do is deal with what's been done.
It's going to be fine.
I'm going to be fine.
It's only hair.
Posted at 11:35 PM Read More
Mon - May 31, 2004
TRIP PLANNING
500 miles, 7 weeks, hiking solo from Mineral
King to Soda Springs, in the Sierra Nevada mountains of
California...
I haven't had the courage to write my thoughts in
the blog yet, even though my departure date is less than two weeks away.
Somehow, I was afraid I'd jinx the whole affair, as if by writing about it, it
would make it real enough that the tricky Fates would have something to focus on
to scuttle the
trip.
However, it IS getting real.
I've lost 21 lbs since March. I am recovering faster from long hikes, and have more stamina now than several months ago. I am feeling confident, but not cocky, and eager to get into the high country.
It will be even more real when on Wednesday morning I get my hair cut short for this adventure. It's been almost waist-length for 40 years, and I'm almost more nervous about getting it cut than I am about the hike!
"Why are you doing this?" friends ask...
It's been a long-held dream. About 25 years ago, when I was at a crossroads in my life -- between working and graduate school -- I planned a 6-week trip along the most spectacular part of the John Muir/Pacific Crest Trail. I planned to start at Mineral King, and walk to Lake Tahoe, alone. I figured it might be the last chance I'd get to do something like that.
I ended up doing only part of the trip. After three weeks, I resupplied at Reds Meadow, but I'd had it, and called my sister from Reds Meadow, and asked her to pick me up at Yosemite in a week. It just wasn't fun anymore.
But I was disappointed in myself that I hadn't done what I'd set out to do, and the desire to finish the trek was still there. In the following years full of marriage and children, I swore that I would do it again, when I was 50, even if I had to have a llama to help. I'll be 50 this summer, and I'm doing it.
In fact, I'm planning a longer trip that that first one. When am I going to get a chance to do this again -- I won't be able to do it in another 25 years, so I'd better do it NOW!
So, THE PLAN:
Fri, June 11: Leave Marin, drive to San Diego and stay with friends.
Sat. June 12: Pick up Cam at UC San Diego, get him moved out of his apartment, and hope that all the stuff fits in the car. Drive to Three Rivers for a last night of hotel luxury and probably pizza. My sister will meet us there.
Sun. June 13: Sister will drive me to the trailhead. Cam can sleep in before making his way home for the summer, and his own adventures. Start hiking Sunday morning as soon as I can get my permit and listen to the Ranger talk on bears.
- The idea is to do a 30-40mile acclimation trip before really starting on the long trek. Also to assess the snow levels. Although it is early, snow was light in the Southern Sierra, and data says it is melting fast. The snow station at Farewell Gap is clear at 9500ft, but I'm not sure what exposure that particular station has, and the high point on the trail is 10,500ft. There is plenty to do at lower elevations, and the only point of this trip is to get used to the altitude and the rhythm of hiking,
-The idea is to get into the wilderness again and do something that I'll remember for the rest of my life..
After four or five days, I'll come back to Mineral King, stay at Cold Spring Camp, pick up my supplies, and start The Big Trip north on June 18. There will be a short run to Cedar Grove (about 5 days), then a longer run to either Muir Trail Ranch or Vermilion Valley Resort for a resupply before getting to Tuolumne, then Echo Lake (about 2 weeks for each section). The plan is to come out at Soda Springs just after my birthday.
Bottom line: I am excited and nervous and buried in lists of things to do and procure. But those lists are getting shorter, and I'm almost at the point where I could pack up and go tomorrow. That's where I want to be next weekend. Everything packed up and ready to go. Pails ready to be mailed; maps printed and clients happy, giving me four days to panic.
I am extraordinarily fortunate that I can take the time to do this at this point in my life. With one kid in college and another who will be a senior in high school, they are well able to be on their own for a couple of months. And their dad is around for emergencies. Clients are being flexible and friends are wishing me well, and I just can't wait.
Of course I know it's not all rushing streams of clear water and sunny blue skies with wildflowers in the meadows. There are snakes and flies and thunderstorms and washed out trails; dry skin, chapped lips, sweaty, salt-encrusted clothing and socks so dusty that they never, ever will again come clean; cold water fords, hungry bears, weird humans; and you really, really miss fresh food. But the mountains keep calling to me, and despite the discomforts, it's where I really want to be this summer.
Here's to a good trip.
However, it IS getting real.
I've lost 21 lbs since March. I am recovering faster from long hikes, and have more stamina now than several months ago. I am feeling confident, but not cocky, and eager to get into the high country.
It will be even more real when on Wednesday morning I get my hair cut short for this adventure. It's been almost waist-length for 40 years, and I'm almost more nervous about getting it cut than I am about the hike!
"Why are you doing this?" friends ask...
It's been a long-held dream. About 25 years ago, when I was at a crossroads in my life -- between working and graduate school -- I planned a 6-week trip along the most spectacular part of the John Muir/Pacific Crest Trail. I planned to start at Mineral King, and walk to Lake Tahoe, alone. I figured it might be the last chance I'd get to do something like that.
I ended up doing only part of the trip. After three weeks, I resupplied at Reds Meadow, but I'd had it, and called my sister from Reds Meadow, and asked her to pick me up at Yosemite in a week. It just wasn't fun anymore.
But I was disappointed in myself that I hadn't done what I'd set out to do, and the desire to finish the trek was still there. In the following years full of marriage and children, I swore that I would do it again, when I was 50, even if I had to have a llama to help. I'll be 50 this summer, and I'm doing it.
In fact, I'm planning a longer trip that that first one. When am I going to get a chance to do this again -- I won't be able to do it in another 25 years, so I'd better do it NOW!
So, THE PLAN:
Fri, June 11: Leave Marin, drive to San Diego and stay with friends.
Sat. June 12: Pick up Cam at UC San Diego, get him moved out of his apartment, and hope that all the stuff fits in the car. Drive to Three Rivers for a last night of hotel luxury and probably pizza. My sister will meet us there.
Sun. June 13: Sister will drive me to the trailhead. Cam can sleep in before making his way home for the summer, and his own adventures. Start hiking Sunday morning as soon as I can get my permit and listen to the Ranger talk on bears.
- The idea is to do a 30-40mile acclimation trip before really starting on the long trek. Also to assess the snow levels. Although it is early, snow was light in the Southern Sierra, and data says it is melting fast. The snow station at Farewell Gap is clear at 9500ft, but I'm not sure what exposure that particular station has, and the high point on the trail is 10,500ft. There is plenty to do at lower elevations, and the only point of this trip is to get used to the altitude and the rhythm of hiking,
-The idea is to get into the wilderness again and do something that I'll remember for the rest of my life..
After four or five days, I'll come back to Mineral King, stay at Cold Spring Camp, pick up my supplies, and start The Big Trip north on June 18. There will be a short run to Cedar Grove (about 5 days), then a longer run to either Muir Trail Ranch or Vermilion Valley Resort for a resupply before getting to Tuolumne, then Echo Lake (about 2 weeks for each section). The plan is to come out at Soda Springs just after my birthday.
Bottom line: I am excited and nervous and buried in lists of things to do and procure. But those lists are getting shorter, and I'm almost at the point where I could pack up and go tomorrow. That's where I want to be next weekend. Everything packed up and ready to go. Pails ready to be mailed; maps printed and clients happy, giving me four days to panic.
I am extraordinarily fortunate that I can take the time to do this at this point in my life. With one kid in college and another who will be a senior in high school, they are well able to be on their own for a couple of months. And their dad is around for emergencies. Clients are being flexible and friends are wishing me well, and I just can't wait.
Of course I know it's not all rushing streams of clear water and sunny blue skies with wildflowers in the meadows. There are snakes and flies and thunderstorms and washed out trails; dry skin, chapped lips, sweaty, salt-encrusted clothing and socks so dusty that they never, ever will again come clean; cold water fords, hungry bears, weird humans; and you really, really miss fresh food. But the mountains keep calling to me, and despite the discomforts, it's where I really want to be this summer.
Here's to a good trip.
Posted at 10:39 PM Read More
Sun - November 16, 2003
Sunday morning
Sunday morning: all's quiet
... no one's up. Life couldn't get any
better.
Sunday morning: a pissant storm has passed through,
and puffy clouds are visible over the East Bay hills. They are dark now; the
black sky is just beginning to lighten behind them. Condensed water is dribbling
down the windows, so it must be cold outside.
It's lovely to be up early, the house to myself, and everything quiet.
The cat madly dashes in front of me, hoping, just hoping, that I will relent and give him an early breakfast. It's never happened before, but that doesn't seem to matter. His little cat brain thinks something, just something might have changed overnight. He fiercely attacks the stair banisters, claws embedded in the jute wrapping, tail whipping the carpet. His ears are back, and his teeth gleam in the pale light. Black cat a puddle in the darkness.
Sunday morning: a day without things that need to be done. A entire day of things that CAN be done. But a day when things don't HAVE to be done.
Sheer luxury.
I'll get the hang of this yet.
It's lovely to be up early, the house to myself, and everything quiet.
The cat madly dashes in front of me, hoping, just hoping, that I will relent and give him an early breakfast. It's never happened before, but that doesn't seem to matter. His little cat brain thinks something, just something might have changed overnight. He fiercely attacks the stair banisters, claws embedded in the jute wrapping, tail whipping the carpet. His ears are back, and his teeth gleam in the pale light. Black cat a puddle in the darkness.
Sunday morning: a day without things that need to be done. A entire day of things that CAN be done. But a day when things don't HAVE to be done.
Sheer luxury.
I'll get the hang of this yet.
Posted at 07:28 AM Read More
Tue - September 30, 2003
First entry
No longer a blogger virgin!
First entry
Yes, I've read about them, but never have tried it. We'll see where this leads...
Yes, I've read about them, but never have tried it. We'll see where this leads...
Posted at 02:03 PM Read More
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Published On: Jun 02, 2004 04:39 PM
Published On: Jun 02, 2004 04:39 PM