Backpacking

Spent a beautiful 3 day weekend up in the woods.

Lassen Volcanic National Park.

On one of my trips back to Washington a few years ago I decided to head east instead of straight north.

Abe & I stopped at Yosemite (yes, I realize that's actually south), through Tahoe, Lassen then through Oregon & home.

Lassen was my favorite park... and it still is.

So much happening up there.

Cinder cones, forest fire devastation, wonderful regrowth, moss, alpine lakes, babbling brooks.

Sun, sleet, snow.

Heading up there at the beginning of the summer season we knew parts of the road through the park would still be closed due to winter conditions.

For some ridiculous reason I didn't think those winter conditions would affect us.

Surely it would just be snowing somewhere ELSE.

Not on US.

Not on the trail WE were following.

What a weirdo.

Stroke of luck that I packed an extra pair of everything.

Another stroke of luck that our sleeping bags & tent would be bone dry at the end of a pretty long day of backpacking through the trees. And snow. Did I mention the snow?

Got up to Butte Lake- one of the few campgrounds open & accessible this early in the year. 

Woke up early, early Saturday morning (around 9) after a lovely sleep next to one of those babbling brooks & headed out on the trail.

It was supposed to be a 19 mile loop- wandering past volcanic features

through tall forests singed by fire

past 4 alpine lakes

then reconnecting at the giant volcanic cinder cone

bordering the large lava flow at the beginning of the trail.

We did more than 19 miles. Because of snow. All because of snow.

Weather was looking good at the start

Then just after lunch at Lower Twin Lake this happened

That's snow. A real, live snow storm.

Then this happened about 15 minutes later.

The weather changed about as often as it does back in Washington.

Back home they say if you're looking for rain or snow or sun just wait 10 minutes & you'll get it.

Same with this weekend here in northern California- the weather was all over the place.

They (the park rangers... or just really considerate hiker folk) have nailed little orange markers in the trees to indicate the trail- maybe every ¼ mile or so.

There were even little signs indicating mileage to the next lake or trail or what have you.

I wasn't sure why they had to be so thorough with the trail marking.

I just thought it was a lovely gesture.

Until we gained elevation & came face to face with the 8 foot snow drifts.

The trail disappeared altogether.

And I thought we were gonna die.

While the start & finish of the trail were clear- that certainly didn't mean the middle (the high part!) of our path would be snow free this time of year.

You should have seen me.  I looked like an owl- the kind with the huge eyes & crazy swivel head.

As we trudged through snow- sometimes dipping up to the knee- I was searching, SCOURING the hillside for those damn little orange diamonds nailed to the trees- hoping, hoping to get back on track.

But - alas- nothing.

Snow.

Just snow.

We (I) brought the little guide book indicating the route we were on but it was less than helpful up there.

It would say things like

'Follow the trail to the left where you'll be dazzled by meadows full of wild flowers.'

or

'You'll pass by 2 ponds - followed by a much bigger pond - then Horseshoe Lake where you can set up camp if you so desire.'

I was quick to realize two things:

1. When there's snow there are no wildflowers.
2. When the snow hasn't melted up there that also means ponds are still iced over... and covered in snow... and if you walk aimlessly across a flat patch of snow you can fall through... and die... or at least fall into really awesomely cold water... and feel like dying.

This is where I should take a brief moment to say I had an incredibly great time.

I really, really did.  In fact- heading to Lassen was actually MY idea. 

But back to the story. 

We were heading- lost- on the trail when we passed a sign – almost hidden in the snow – about catching part of the Pacific Crest Trail.

Thanks to our snappy little guide book we headed in the opposite direction- away from the PCT- because it told us to- even though the trail heading away from the PCT was covered.

Not to worry though.

After a while walking around unknowingly we found a trail. I was in the lead at this point- just so thrilled to have found our path.  Except it was the wrong path.  It was the Pacific Crest Trail. The one we weren't supposed to be on.

And the next trail sign indicated we'd gone 2 miles in the wrong direction.

Down a valley.

After a brief feeling of relief that we'd found our route again I quickly went back to owl eyes- frantically searching, scanning- trying to find even ONE of those single, solitary orange triangles nailed to a tree.

Quite frankly- the reason I go into hyper vigilant mode is because- my biggest fear in the history of the world- is getting lost in the woods.

And I've had that taste of fear in my mouth 2 or 3 times in my lifetime.

Obviously, I'm still here so I've never been THAT lost but it makes me realize that:

1. I really need to figure out how to use a compass & a topographic map
2. I really need to HAVE a compass & a topographic map in my backpack whenever I'm out there.

We trudged back up the valley & out- trying to find the horizon. Figured Horseshoe Lake- the 3^rd lake on the route & the one we'd planned on pitching our tent next to- must be over the NEXT hill.

Funny how that always happens. The good stuff's always around the next bend in the road or over the next hill...

And luckily- it was- the lake that is.

Only thing is that in my super adrenaline rushed state I hadn't thought about my wet, cold hands & feet.

Became uncomfortably aware of those things quite quickly upon stopping though.

My circulation is less than spectacular to begin with so when hands & feet get cold they get REAL cold.

All bundled in the tent- Tim came up with the genius idea of sacrificing the Jack Daniels (that's right- we brought booze- just a little guy) to boil water in & put inside my sleeping bag- to jumpstart the thawing process.

Not before we both took 4 or 5 swigs.

Thanks to the JetBoil we had a warm meal of Santa Fe Chicken & Rice.  

And after filling the booze bottle with boiling water- I started to thaw- and then just got really incredibly tired.  

Hey!  Trying to fight for your survival really takes it outta you!

Perhaps now is the time to tell you that I've noticed every time I think about the weekend's adventure it gets bigger & grander & more dramatic in my head.

I'm like one of those fishermen- the ones who come back from a trip & somehow seem to have caught a bigger & better fish every time they tell their tale.

Honestly- up on the trail we were probably only lost for about 3 or 4 hours.

And we really only went 3 or 4 miles out of the way (although down & back up a valley).

And it's safe to say that this whole business of getting lost meant something a whole lot different to me than it did to Tim. 

Once we were down from the hill & chillin' next to the babbling brook we started from

I told him about my biggest fear. 

He said it was one of his favorite things- not that I was scared out of my mind while we lost the trail- but that- to him- getting lost in the woods is awesome.

And I get that.

To be totally truthful- when I feel so strung out & at the absolute edge of my comfort zone- it always seems to work out that by the time it's all said & done- at the end of the road- or the trail- those experiences always get filed away in my head as some of the best. 

It's just kind of euphoric- finishing something that amazes, terrifies, pushes & propels you to new heights.

It's beautiful up there.

And we'll be back.

After the snow melt. 

Maybe even to hike the exact same trail. 

Just to see how far we'd gone... in the wrong direction. 

And to see just how far we've come... in the right one.

Together.

Tulips

Just wanted to write another Spring time post.

Last time it was about Daffodils.

This time it's about tulips.

In both cases I've been pleasantly surprised by what happens when you

1.  Actually plant the bulbs given to you
2.  Water 'em
3.  Document their progress along the way

In fact- from here on out- with any kind of new plant life that crops up around the house I intend to document the heck out of it with photographs.

It's just so fascinating to see a little bit of green pop up from the ground one day.

Then you start to see a bud.

A little bit more...

Then BOOM!  This happens!

These tulips were sent with the same batch of daffodil bulbs from my mom all those months ago.

They had every chance to make a life for themselves... so long as I planted them  : )

And they have been a beautiful splash of color in the backyard.

But LAST year I was given the same opportunity to try my hand at a bit of gardening.

I suppose I succeeded with the first part- the tulips I'd been given bloomed- but then- after they'd expired I simply took the bulbs & threw them on my version of a little compost pile- mostly for expired plants.

I left 'em & forgot about 'em.

Until just two weeks ago.

I was out dilly dallying in the yard when I saw what looked like tulip leaves sticking out from under the bin that holds coffee grounds.

Leaf speckled with coffee grounds... not dirt  : (

Tim dumps his grounds there because I heard if you save 'em they could be used to enrich the soil.

True?  I don't know.  But we do it anyway!

So- I went to empty the bin when I discovered that those tulip bulbs I'd thrown willy nilly to the ground had actually taken it upon themselves to root.

Even after being smooshed by this disgusting thing!

I immediately went into rescue mode- delicately digging the bulbs & their roots from the surface of the composting mound.

Hastily cleared a planter to make way for these sorry little buggers.

But instead of looking like their healthier, happier counterparts

They still pretty much look like this... even after 2 weeks of tender loving care.

However... THIS happened at the end of one of the neglected stems...

So I remain hopeful!

Figure if these tulips actually rise up for another season- after being toss around, neglected, smooshed by a bin & doused with warm coffee grounds- then they'll go down in history as the hardiest tulips that ever lived.

Wouldn't that be somethin'??

Having photographed the evolution of the daffodils & tulips this year I am now sure of two things.

Daffodils remain one of my favorite flowers.

And the leaves of tulips are my all time favorite of favorites as far as greens go.

They're so lovely, so smooth, so perfectly placed along the flower's stem.

And because they've got pretty broad leaves- when it rains- this kinda thing happens.

Honestly- one of the most beautiful things nature & rain do together.

The Art of Running

Hello.

Meredith here.

And I'm about to talk about running.

A whole bunch of us are signed up to do an incredible race called The Avenue of the Giants this May.

It's a route nestled amongst gigantic redwood trees.  Beginning & ending at a bend in the Eel River.

Just pretty much one of the most gorgeous stretches of earth you could possibly choose to run (or walk) through.

It's for those reasons that I suggested we all run it again.

You see this ain't our first rodeo.

My parents ran the full marathon back in '79.  My mom said she ran her best time there!

And I ran the half marathon back in 2008.

Still don't know why I thought THAT was a good idea.

Now it's time to try again though.

But this time we're all doing the 10k.

6.2 miles.

No more, no less.

Just us & the trees & the river... and big beers at the end... I'm hoping.

What's even better is that Tim & his family are running too!

The moms will be power walking & the rest of us running.

With the upcoming race just a month away I have started to take Tim's advice- trying to simply run an hour straight.

No big deal you say?

Wellllllllll... I've been taking a little break from running.

And by a little break I mean one that's lasted 2 years.

Oops.

Gotta start somewhere though right?

I've been jogging a couple miles every couple of days for the last few months and that's been feeling pretty good.

But trying to add time... and distance... I am reminded of just how much jogging/running is a mental game.

There's this hilarious photo floating around the internet that popped into my head as I put the miles in this afternoon.

Hilarious!  And so true.

Maybe not so much the top photo.

First off I don't have long, blonde hair.

But I also REALLY doubt I look that sleek when I'm huffin' & puffin' trying to git 'r dun.

But the bottom one- ya- I get that feelin' a lot.

Just plain wide eyed & desperate looking.

Let's be honest here.  I'm never gonna be scouted for Runner's World Magazine.

And I'm fine with that.

All I'm hoping for with this 10k run comin' up is that

1.  I finish it.

2.  I feel relatively good & strong the whole way through... hell,  I'll take 1/2 the way through too... not picky here.

3.  Remember that even if I'm slow... at least I'm out there... with my family... enjoyin' the big, huge trees & the cool, clean air.

This is happening!

Anyone stuck their face in a daffodil lately? 

Perhaps they haven't made their appearance yet in your town?

Here in California they're up & out & smelling great!

Not too fragrant but fresh as can be.

A little wave of excitement rushes through my body every time I take a wif. If I close my eyes it's even better.

To me daffodils are the smell of spring- of new life- new adventures- new possibilities. 

My mom sent me some bulbs this last Fall from Washington. 

I stashed them in the shed out back hoping I wouldn't forget to plant 'em in some soil when the time was right.

I didn't forget!

And with a little water & a lot of sun this is what started to happen.

Then THIS

And NOW I see these every morning, afternoon & evening in my backyard...

With this happening in the front yard...

And this happening all over the place while Abe & I walk the streets of Petaluma...

And then there are the succulents!  So many succulents!

Even though all these things are incredible – and they're blooming & growing & thriving because of the warm weather we've had – it's currently raining here. 

And it will continue to rain (they say!) for days & days & days.

Obviously I'm thrilled with this kind of extended forecast!

Imagine how big my smile is knowing that next time I take a wif of those daffodils out back they'll smell like spring rain & all things wonderful that come with the season.

Lovely.  

Bike Riding

The truth is everything is in a constant state of change, of evolution, of reinvention.

Sometimes those changes are less than desirable.

Example:

You like cookies.

You eat cookies.

You no longer fit into your jeans.

Sometimes those changes are great though. 

Example:

You like cookies.

You eat cookies.

You start riding a bike.

You can still fit into your jeans.

I recently came into some good fortune. 

My guy's sister had a bike she wasn't using much. Tim asked & she agreed to let me borrow it for a bit. 

So I decided to give bike riding one more go.

I've had bikes before- even my mom's bike from 20 years ago. Before Mairin's bike (the one I've got now) I just figured a bike's a bike.

If it's got two wheels & the chain stays on & it appears that the brakes work (even with the horrible squeak you get when engaged) then you're good to go.

Boy was I wrong!

Guess what happens when the gears actually SHIFT from high to low & low to high?

And what's even more magical is riding a bike with tubes that hold AIR.

Fully inflated tires have changed my world.

On the good rides I have these visions of myself going top speed up really big hills.

'Killing it' as they say.

(I don't know who 'they' are)

But with anything new- or new again after a LONG time- on the kind of crummy rides- sometimes I'm reminded of that baby elephant wearing the pink bow riding the little bicycle in the circus ring.

At least I think it was a baby elephant.

A story.

Just the other day it was mighty windy. 

Gail force winds as far as I was concerned. 

When I was riding WITH the wind it was all smiles.  I had those visions of going full speed ahead- with minimal effort- muscles bulging- efficiently peddling- moving down the path at record speeds- speeds that would surely get me sponsored for some crazy centennial ride benefitting something beneficial.

But when I had to come back around (the trail I ride on is a loop you see) and I was heading INTO the wind I could have sworn a parachute- a very large one- had somehow attached itself to my back. 

Kind of like those race cars that automatically deploy those chutes after crossing the finish line to slow the heck down.

When the big gusts came in I was darn sure I was actually going backwards.

I'd glance down at my legs. They were definitely peddling forward but I felt like I was going nowhere.

The harder I'd try to peddle the slower I got.

By the time I got home I got off the bike & just sort of fell over into a heap of burning muscles & sweat.

Clearly I'm at the beginning of my training.

Clearly.

But look at this!

The MUD!

So much mud you can't even see my reflector thingy.  That's the technical term for those you know. 

I'd like to say that the mud bath happened on one of my 'good' rides.  

I was dominating some crazy, technical trail in the woods.

Burning calories.

Makin' it happen.

But to be honest... it was really just a number of mud puddles in a row that I road through.

STILL though!

I got mud splatters everywhere & I didn't wash it off.

I think the correct protocol is to clean the bike every time to keep things running smoothly but I liked looking at the mess every day. 

I liked remembering that day I was that hardcore rider.

Through 4 mud puddles.

I reference my newness to the whole biking scene... because it's true... but also to say that at least I didn't do what this one guy did... who was all decked out in his spandex, shaved legs & biker shoes.

Did you know real bike riders have special shoes?!?!

They do.

They have a lot of special stuff. But that's another story : )

My mom & dad were here visiting recently.

One afternoon my mom & I were sitting in my car waiting at a red light. 

A biker rolled up (literally) right next to us at the stop.

Now... my foot peddles look like this

His peddles looked like little cages. Not those clip in things but like little houses around his toes. His feet fit snuggly in 'em.... to help do something or other I'm sure : )

What those foot cages DON'T help with are embarrassing moments when you think something stationary is downright flimsy. 

And you lean on it.

He slowed to a stop & reached his hand out to grab one of those white posts that have reflective tape on top. You know the ones? They reflect back from your headlights so you stay on the road at night.

Now... to his credit... some of those posts ARE in fact fixed in the ground and very stable.

But... unfortunately for him... and his caged feet... the post he decided to lean against didn't hold... at all... causing him to topple to his right... over a bit of a ledge & onto the rocky railroad tracks.

My mom & I- trying to be gracious- looked away after his spill.

Don't get me wrong- we both gasped a little with concern for his wellbeing but- it's the truth- men have a way of freaking out when they're trying to be cool but totally miss the mark.

Or fall over.

In front of ladies.

Knowing this fact led us to divert our gazes- at least initially- allowing him to regain some level of composure.

Not to worry though.

Another truck load of guys rolled their window down to inquire about his state of affairs.  He waved from the ground, smiling, demonstrating to them how flexible those damn road posts were.

Everyone had a good laugh.

So then my mom & I started laughing. Out loud. For a long time. 

It just kept getting more & more funny the more times we replayed it in our heads. 

There may have been some crying. 

Laughing crying.

In fact- I'm sitting in my favorite little cafe in town as I write this post. 

It's all I can do not to let out a huge laugh right this second as I read & edit. I can smile though right? Smiling's silent. And looks nice.

The thing about it is that when someone takes a spill but then immediately laughs- when no one's seriously hurt & there's no blood or guts involved in the mishap- then it can quickly turn into the funniest thing you've seen in your whole entire life. 

Good stuff.

So biking is new to me.

But I'm gonna keep at it.

I figure that will mean the good rides will get better.

And that the crummier ones will become less crummy.  

Heading into a stiff wind- the imaginary parachute open behind me will eventually start to feel smaller.  

The incline that used to feel like a mountain will feel more like an ant hill.  

Yes. 

I have taken up bike riding.  Although gingerly & with some trepidation.

A goal- to ride to Point Reyes and back with Tim.

It's long & hilly (for me) & there are lots of cars (don't tell my mom) but it's a goal.

And there's a little bakery in town that I love.

If I make it there in one piece I will stuff my face full of cookies.

And then ride back stuffed full of those cookies.

And then fit into my jeans.

Cause I'm riding a BIKE everywhere.

Perhaps...

The Dalai Lama & the Indigo Girls have it all figured out.

That's what I'm thinkin' at this point anyway.

When asked what surprised him most about humanity- the Dalai Lama answered

“Man.  Because he sacrifices his health in order to make money.

Then he sacrifices money to recuperate his health.  And then he is so anxious about the future that he does not enjoy the present; the result being that he does not live in the present or the future; he lives as if he is never going to die, and then dies having never really lived.”

- Dalai Lama

Hmmm... YES.

- Meredith 

Then there are the Indigo Girls.

Anyone NOT heard of 'em?

No big deal if not- should look them up though- there's just something about their music- so real & so true.

For instance...

As I was knitting the other day in my little living room- I heard a few lines of 'Closer to Fine' loud & clear.

My ears were open & I listened hard.

"Well darkness has a hunger that's insatiable

And lightness has a call that's hard to hear.

I went to the doctor,

I went to the mountains,

I looked to the children,

I drank from the fountains,

There's more than one answer to these questions,

Pointing me in a crooked line.

The less I seek my source for some definitive

The closer I am to fine."

I'll be the first to admit that I sometimes dwell a bit too long on the past.

And I have a knack for worrying about things that haven't even happened yet  (** and probably never will**) 

It's a rare gift to be truly present, immersed in the here & now, all the time.

I've been there before and it's been SO great. 

So great that I can still remember those times.

I hope I will always be able to find that place... with any luck... over & over again.

But it takes practice.

And patience.

Practice to always refocus on what's happening right now.

And patience with oneself to understand that to train the mind, body & spirit to stay present takes time.

It's not always easy to shut the worry button off (in fact, it's really HARD!)

And controlling the draw to always look to the future instead of enjoying the present seems damn near impossible at times.

But... thanks to the wonderful insights of the Dalai Lama... 

And the Indigo Girls...

I'll be danged...

If I live as if I'm never going to die and then die having never really lived.

And I'm gonna try to realize that

The less I seek my source for some definitive

The closer I am to fine.

When the world appears to have turned all kind of crazy- when I'm feeling anxious- or uncertain- or unsure of the future- I'll look to the present, what's right in front of me.

Yup.

Focus on the here and now- what's happening right this minute.

Trust myself.  Instincts are usually spot on.

Know my limits.  And respect them. 

Work hard for what I believe in.  But not until it makes me sick.  Or I forget who I am or where I came from. 

Try to be a decent, open minded human being.  Remembering- though- that everyone falls from grace from time to time. 

And take tea breaks every once in a while. 

That's it.

That's all.   

The Many Uses

I've got a new marketing idea for the aprons of A Girl And Dog. 

The heading would read something like this:

"The apron. Not just for the kitchen anymore."

A lot of people (I think) associate the apron with domestic work- namely- cooking & baking.

And that's fine except perhaps it keeps some from purchasing one- thinking that since they don't do much cooking OR baking that they'd never really wear one.

But here's the thing!

The apron can be used for any number of things.

It's the overgarment you can wear to keep your regular clothes clean.

It's the thing you might wear to spice up an outfit (I do anyway!)

It's the one with the two front pockets- rather large ones- perfect for holding useful items like chapstick, kleenex, your wallet, your phone.

Think about this!

Those pockets are incredibly user friendly. No more rootin' around your bottomless pit of a purse for this or that.

Looking for your ringing phone?

Boom! Right in front of you in your apron.

Lips incredibly chapped this winter?

Done! Reach into your left front pocket and there's that chapstick ready to be applied.

But how about THIS one!

The apron as a firewood transporter?

I say sure! Why the heck not!

I mean- ladies have been carrying eggs from the chicken coop for years in those things.

Why can't you substitute a few delicate, farm fresh eggs for a couple logs of wood to be carried from the splitting pile to the house?

The answer is you can! And you should!

I have just recently (within the past few months) discovered that chopping wood with an axe is incredibly fulfilling.

Gets the ya yas out.

Any tension you've got you can take out on that piece of wood!

Just take a deep breath & let 'er rip!

Well... try to aim first... and watch your feet... and THEN let 'er rip.

Chopping wood gets the blood flowin'.

Makes you feel like you're accomplishing something by splitting your OWN wood- making your OWN fire to keep warm on those cold winter days & nights.

Tim & I have chopped a few pieces of wood in our day.

Up in Washington.

And at his family's house over the holidays.

This last time- when we were ready to carry a few pieces inside to the fireplace- that's when I had the genius idea to use my apron.

I'd just been in the kitchen chopping onions & carrots for Christmas dinner when I came out to find it was time for transport.

Worked out well- so efficient- Tim just kept piling the pieces into my apron- stopping periodically to do little weight checks.

It was perfect!

So- you see- the apron is useful for cooking & baking- but it's good for sooooo many other things too!

Pockets are handy.

Chapstick's reachable.

Phone's accessible.

Carries eggs.

Holds firewood.

Just when you think the apron you've got should stay in the kitchen... think again! 

Go put it on before you do your gardening, or your grocery shopping or your WOOD CHOPPING!

Wishing you many, many happy adventures in your apron.