Summer's Close

Sorry for the interlude. I seem to have experienced a hardware failure in my hard drive. We are currently trying to recover the data, but don't expect much, cautious optimism.

On we go...

Last weekend, Labor Day, we had our last who-rahh at the Ellensburg Rodeo in Eastern Washington. It was truly a blast! We spent the weekend base camping at the E-Burg KOA with another family and day tripping to the festivities in the Windy City of the West, the Columbia River, and to Vantage for a little columnar basalt rock climbing. All in all a great time for everyone involved.

The rodeo, listed as one to the top 25 in the nation, was a wonderful combination of Kitittas County Fair and rodeo events. The standard roping, riding and family fun. One of the highlights occured when a bull, who just threw its rider decided the arena was too small and crashed through a fence into the "warm up/staging" area. He bent the gate, blew out and ran free for a bit only to be eventually wrangled and brought back to the arena by some amazing ropers. As he was throwing his fit one of the ropers accomplished a very timely roping of his neck and with the help of his well trained mount, delaying the bull just long enough to safely remove or at least warn the unsuspecting folks under the grandstand. It was an incredible lasso at a time when it NEEDED to happen.

Day two we ventured to the Columbia River to swim and play. We found a small beach with a sandstone cliff and lots of space for the kids to play. The water was refreshing and a welcomed break from the hectic fair.Day three we made our way to the Feathers climbing area near the Gorge. The Dave Matthews Band was completing their weekend of shows and the traffic was clearing out as we were heading in. The climbing area is a dry desert with columns of basalt. Most of the climbs in walking distance are rated very difficult for recreational climbers of our caliber but we found four routes in the 5.1 to 5.7 range that met our needs and as it happened all four were in the shade. Later, after a few hours of pumping our arms and legs on the climbs, we ventured to the Wild Horse Monument along the highway for a short hike to enjoy the views. Cheryl even got to shoot a few barn photos, one of here favorite subjects.

Today school started and summer officially ended for the boys. Jonathan is now a third-grader and Gabe ventured out into first grade. I have to run and pick them up here in about half an hour.

Cheers, Tony

Steamboat part 2.2

It is Thursday and I know where my children are.

Yesterday we rode bikes for a long and enjoyable ride on the paved trails about town. Cheryl Jon Gabe and I stopped at the Yampa River to rest and eat a snack. It just happened that the very spot Cheryl picked to play in the river was right next to a familiar bridge. Last year we located a Geocache under this bridge. We went ujder and found the cache and logged in. I flipped back tot he log in form last yea and discocvered we had logged in on 8/13/07...today is 8/13/08, cool.

We fished in a local pond designed for kids, taking home two trout each for a total of 6. The fish would be dinner. Then I found out the regulations for this little pond have changed from last year, it's now catch and release, oops.

Today I snuck out for a moring of river fishing on the smaller water making up the middle fork of Elk River and later on much more productive main body of the Elk River. It was a blast.

Now we are off to go for a swim in a local pool that is fed by hot springs. Chat with ya soon.

Tony

Steamboat part 2

Monday morning in Steamboat Springs CO and the Yampa river valley is filled with a misty layer of ground fog. The valley sits at about 7000' and in the summer enjoys warm days and often times very cool nights. The village at the base of Mt Werner is similar to the compact and bustling collection of retail shops, rental houses and condos you find in most large ski resorts. Mt Werner tops out at 10,530' of elevation and provides a ton of skiing terrain. The town, at least the down town area, is a beautiful, welcoming and cozy western style community with the old brick buildings and weathered wood you would expect to see in the high plains. There is a touch of the modern with high end art shops and boutiques inhabiting historic buildings, miles of paved trails and parks to play in and diverse collection of ethnic eateries to chose from.

On to the day...

After the typical quick and chaotic breakfast feeding frenzy, ideas and suggestions fly about the room as to the adventures for the day. Gabe chimes in, "That's not an adventure. An adventure is when you don't know where you are or where you are going." Hiking up Fish Creek Falls seems to be the popular option for the day. Daco has already left for the same hike, but unknown to us he chose to take a different trail having already hiked the Falls trail. It takes about an hour and a half to coordinate and load up the three infants, two boys and eight adults. During my pre-trip research I found information about a trail running series here in Steamboat. One of the races is a roughly 16 mile trail run from Fish Creek Falls to the gondola atop the ski area. Although the official race isn't run until next week I found the course attractively interesting. With Cheryl's blessing I left the parking area and headed up the trial climbing quickly to around 7500' and attaining the upper meadow in roughly and an hour of fast hiking and running. As the trail leaves the rocky outcroppings and ridges of metamorphosed granite I enjoy the swirling patterns of crystals in the rock. It reminds me of chocolate ribbons swirled in ice cream. I pass many hikers who greet me and comment on my hiking speed. A young couple comment on the GPS Velcroed to my hat. We discuss the distance to Long Lake and how far we have gone. Continuing I stop for water as the trial parallels the stream. I have always tried to take pictures while running and most often just forgot or not wanted to stop. In the upper meadows the trails become a mixture of mud dirt and small rocks, great terrain for making up time after the slow climb. I push myself and with frustration find myself struggling. I walk for a bit to lower my heart rate and decide to attempt a self portrait. After three attempts I think I have a good shot. Take a peek. It just kind of figures, one piece of grass and it blocks my face.

The trail skirts meadows filled with purple, yellow, red, orange and white wildflowers all in full bloom. The grasses and quaking aspen flutter and sway in the high mountain breezes. The pines produce a low soft sound as the wind passes through the needle laden branches.

The trail map suggests an intersection at around 5 or 6 miles where I will leave the Fish Creek Falls trail and head toward the summit of Mt Werner on Mountain View trail. It seems to take longer than expected to reach the turn off but a 5.7 miles I round a corner and there it is. Mountain View trail intersecting with Fish Creek trail. There appears to be a road of some sort in two or three miles but I never seem to find it. I continue to be frustrated with my fitness level until I realize, I've running above 8500' for over two miles now, that would explain it. From here to the summit of Mt Werner the trail would continue to climb with a significant amount above 10,000'. I figure out the map issues, concerning the lack of "road", comparing the map to the GPS. What I assumed would be a road was just a well used a trail. As the summit approaches the trail circles another much larger grassy meadow. I weave in and out of the woods enjoying the smell of the Ponderosa pines in the warm afternoon. A grouse gives me a bit of a scare as he scampers across the trail and lights atop a rotting log and stares at me form a safe distance. I know there are black bear, cougar, elk and deer up here but the only sign I have seen is be the elk prints and piles of "berries". Every now and then the trail cuts through thick brush prompting me to announce my presence with a loud, "Shoo bear! Shoo bear!" If they hear me, I never see or hear them, although there was that one whiff of poop that brought me to attention. As the trail prepares to bid adieu to the meadow I peek through a break in the trees to see a heard of elk grazing at the far edge. Here is my feeble attempt at tyring to document the occasion. I guess the camera needs a stronger zoom. The blurry brown specs in the grass off in the distance are the elk. The wind was in my face as I tried to get closer. Then it swirled and with in a few seconds my presence was sensed by the heard. All heads turned in my direction and they were off silently entering the protection of the trees. It was one of the coolest things I have seen while out on the trails.

The GPS says I have traveled over 10 miles and now it is really getting hard to maintain a shuffle, 10,200'. Rounding a small hill I sight a ski lift and my spirits lift. I am closer than I thought. I attain the service road at around 3 hours and 40 minutes. The Gondola summit is still a ways off and I don't think in my condition I will make it there in under four hours. The downhill is pounding my quads and aggravating my right knee, so I slow to a comfortable pace and by 4:05:37 I reach the Gondola. I find the trail designed to get hikers to the base of the ski area. I seem to have misjudged my remaining distance and find it frustrating to have few more miles left. At mid-mountain I burn a few minutes searching for the secret trail we discovered last year that leads directly to the rental house. I finally find the small break in the chest high grass and drop down for the final mile an half to the house. The trail is well over grown with berry laden bushes, sharp edged grasses and quaking aspen. I finish the trail with my standard "Shoo bear!", loud jokes and poorly worded songs to keep the predators from eating me. The trail is familiar and comforting, I've been here before. I pop out onto pavement at the 17 mile mark having been moving for 5:05:45. the final three-quarters of a mile is a slow walk on weary legs, I need a bath.

Tony

Heading to Steamboat Springs CO

Day 1 8/8/08 More like day -1 for Gabe, Ama and me. We departed Monroe last night at 4pm heading to La Grande, OR. Jon struggled with the departure but I think once he realizes he gets to fly to Denver on an airplane and his brother doesn’t he will be fine. The journey last night was uneventful. We stopped in Yakima at a DQ for dinner and shared the restaurant with a group of Wildland Firefighters fresh off the lines of a few local spot fires. As the sun set it glowed a dark red as its light filtered through the smoke of many small brush fires in the area. A few were stopped in their tracks by the ribbon of asphalt we drove the rest were controlled by ten foot wide firelines, scars in the brush exposing raw soil and separating fuel from fire. In a perfect scenario a bulldozer or piece of machinery would create a perfect fireline in minutes but from the looks of terrain these lines were handmade by similar rough hands as those sitting across the room eating ice cream. We crossed the Colombia River around 9pm and wandered into La Grand along I-84. The La Grande Inn was a welcomed sight at 10:30pm we pulled in, found a room and promptly sacked out. Day 2 8/9/08 Early to rise I discovered a Starbucks within walking distance of the Inn, aah, I’m better now. After a quick continental breakfast of cereal, donuts and juice we are off into the sagebrush covered hills of Eastern Oregon heading south along the historic route of the Oregon Trial. Idaho brings with it a rip-roaring 90+ degree dry heat. We stopped in Boise to stretch on the campus of Boise State University where Gabe took a full body dip in the Boise River, while Ama broke into a science building and made off with some sort of 3-eyed fish specimen. She claims we can EBay it for gas money. I think the,”I just needed to use the facilities.” comment was a ploy, but ya never know. (Okay, so I made up the fish thing.) Off we go south to Twin falls for a quick refueling and Tropical Mango Gatorade. Gabe chose a fake-Slurpee instead. The roads in southern Idaho are a collection of well maintained 75mph straightaway’s linked by sweeping banked corners allowing for the increased speeds. We find it is best to stay in the smoother left hand lane as the double and triple semi trucks tend to maintain a slower speed in the right hand lane. Pulling off I-84 there is a 4 mile spur into Twin Falls that passes over the Snake River. The view of the gorge reminds me of the view from I-90 as you cross the Columbia River in Vantage Washington. We are flying by potato fields filled with lush green plants and miles waving golden wheat fields. I napped as we passed by the “Welcome to Utah” sign. A few minutes later as I awoke from my power nap we were heading south for the Great Salt Lake. Ama wanted to stop and swim in the lake so we investigated the chances of actually getting into the lake. We found that Antelope Island was the place to go. It was a bit out of the way for us but it was well worth the drive. According to the locals the level of the lake has been dropping over the last few years. When we pulled up to the beach area we found that we had to walk about a quarter mile over very hot sand just to get to the shallow water. I remember reading about the lake as a child and seeing photos of people floating on their backs and reading a book or magazine. Well it is true you can float. Normally when I exhale I become negatively buoyant but in the very salty water of The Great Salt Lake even when I exhaled completely I could float high enough to have my hands and feet above the surface. It was a great and interesting experience to enjoy the water. We only spent about fifteen minutes in the lake as we were on a bit of a time crunch, having heard of construction delays on the road leading to Rock Springs WY. Walking back to the car was a foot frying dance in the hot sand. By the time we made it back to the parking area we were completely dry and coated with a sparkling dust of salt crystals. After a quick freshwater rinse and a change of clothes we departed for Wyoming but not before hitting the local Starbucks for an iced mocha. We found lodging in Evanston, a small growing town of truck stops and hotels. I took a few minutes to get in a run while Ama and Gabe swam in the hotel pool. Dinner, Olympics on TV and bed time. Day 3 8/10/08 Today we are off to the Flaming Gorge park (back to Utah) in search of dinosaur tracks, we hear they are here somewhere, we can hardly wait. The adventure of actually finding the fossilized tracks was interesting. We drove to Vernal, UT and spent some time in the Verna Field House viewing the wonderful paleontology display, it was amazing. We did however discover we had inadvertently driven past the road leading to the foot prints. The poorly marked (The sign was facing the other direction and was all off four inches by twenty-four inches, Kind makes ya feel link they don’t want people to come visit. I guess that is better in the long run for the longevity of the fossils.) The footprints were amazing, depressions permanently formed in the sandstone on the shore of the Red Fleet Reservoir. The approach hike was a roasting mile-and-a-half walk through a soft sand carpeted juniper forest. It was worth the ten mile retracing of lost miles and dehydrating hike. We clicked off the remaining miles to Steamboat, tossing in a quick stop for ice cream, with expediency, arriving at the rental house around 4:00pm.

Tony

Updates

The Bivalve Bash results have been posted for this year's run. Cheryl was 24th, Ama was 51st, I was 24th, and Jonathan was 28th. See the pictures too. Cheryl is on page 8 of the photos and Ama is on page 9, Jonathan was in the mix too, I believe he was page 2. I'm in the crowd on page 4, the bald guy in the foreground with the glasses on.

Gabe just celebrated his 6th birthday at the Furrer Farm. Fake dad, aka Scott, presented him with his first motorcycle, a 50cc Yamaha JR. It looks and rides like a real racing dirt bike. Gabe took all of about 10 seconds to get the feel for it before heading out into the pasture to ride through pies and chase the horses and cows. He spent well over an hour dinking around the fields smiling through his full face helmet. Soon the jumping will begin.

We spent a few days camping last weekend on the Stilliguamish river with some friends, it was a great time until it rained, duh WASHINGTON. Here are the kids wit their very own fire pit. We enjoyed the company of a couple other families sharing cooking responsibilities.

Last Wednesday we competed in our last All Comers meet. This season we will miss the last two due to work and travel. Jonathan decided to run a fast mile clocking a 7:23 for a 21 second PR! He then backed it up with an amazing performance in the Jogger's Mile; a race where the idea is to finish closest to your predicted time without the aid of a timing device. Jon predicted an 8 minute mile and ran an 8:01, winning the entire competition. The prize was a $25 Starbucks gift card, which mom promptly offered him $15 for, no sale. I did my annual Firefighter's Mile in full bunker gear and SCBA clocking a pitiful 10:44, a full minute and 22 seconds slower than last year.

Today was the opener for black bear season. We hit the Wallace River at 4 am, walking into our spot in the DARK. Talk about senses on full alert. The only action we had was a few grunts from a bear behind some blackberry bushes; he could smell us but not see us, we could hear him but not seem him. He lost interest in investigating us and silently wandered off. The berries will be ready for eating in a few weeks and the local bear population will begin moving around a lot more as the sweet blackberries become edible.

Life gets really busy here in the next week as we prep for heading to Steamboat Springs CO for the annual Hirst Family trip. There will be an entire new batch of kiddos this year as we add 3 newborns. Jonathan and Gabe will no longer be the children of the trip. The dynamic will be interesting. Ama, Gabe and I are driving down and flying back. Out route down will take us through Vernal UT and Dinoland! Gabe with be in paleontologist heaven!!

AND...

The boys, Cheryl and Fake Mom (Vicki) are competing in the Western Gaming (horseback games) at the Stanwood Fair this Sunday.

I think that's about it,

Tony

Mud Run

I am constantly looking for new ways to enjoy running. Here is the latest discovery: http://www.bivalvebash.com/

Cheryl, Jonathan, Ama(Cheryl's mom) and I enjoyed the unique experience of running through tidal flat mud last Saturday. Gabe will have to wait another year to reach the age limit but he still had fun with the other activities of the Bivalve Bash. Here he is building a habitat for beach roaming critters. Now he is testing out the mud to make sure it is safe for us all to run in.

The kids run is a 100 yard dash, more like a slog, out, around and back. the adult course is and outer 250 yard course encircling the youth course. The mud is a fine silty stinky combination of decomposing bio-matter and finely eroded sand. Much like running in wet cement the mud takes hold of your feet and eagerly clutches your shoes attempting to relieve you of the protection. Experienced runners suggest using duct tape to secure your footwear, it is a must and it works. The mud sucks you in and creates a perfect air tight seal that must be broken with each step. The lifting force needed to break the seal zaps all energy from your body, you feel as if gravity has just increased ten-fold. Prior to the race I befriended the finish line director and he suggested quick small steps to keep my feet from sinking to deep. Oh yeah and don't fall. Cheryl enjoyed a comment made by a boy just completing the grueling ordeal, "If you fall, remember to close your mouth"

The pre-race duct taping of shoes seemed to be an accepted practice. So much so that the folks from a local running shop had a tent for the purpose of taping runners shoes for them. Jon asked if I would secure his shoes. "Not to tight dad, I want to be able to run my fastest."

Jon ran a great race smiling the entire time. The start was a mad dash out into the soupy mess with kids yelling, falling and laughing. Meanwhile on shore parents jokingly fretted about stuck and disappearing children. Several young competitors fell and a few took advantage of the opportunity completely covering their bodies, most just ran as hard as they could. I was an event fit to make a pig jealous. Jon started slow figuring out the shifting unstable mud surface. Once comfortable with the squishing and slopping he began to pick up the pace and move up in the field. As the collection of ever increasing mud caked youths rounded the final turn and entered the home stretch the pack maintained a slow and

increasingly fatigued pace. The effort to take each step was showing and yet the laughing never stopped. The finish was a celebration of mud spattered smiles as each finisher received a golden oyster shell hanging on a red white and blue ribbon.

The Adult race was a field of 200 mostly competitive runners drooling at the chance to get really dirty and see how fast they could cover the "short" course. The distance seems so innocuous, unchallenging until the reality of the surface sets in. Watching the kids race it was hard to imagine the true difficulty I was about to venture out into. Here is the trick, the kids do not weigh much, so they don't sink to far, adults have a different issue. Not only do we weigh more but we have more push off strength that can work against us. The push off can actually drive your feet deeper into the mud. I guess the finish line directors comments about short quick steps will hold true.

I decided to take a few minutes to warm up and be ready for the intensity of the short distance. I left the grounds of the Bash running up the road a bit to get blood pumping in my muscles. This is something I have done many times before without issue. running out to get the juices flowing is a standard part of pre-race preparations. This time was different. For some reason I read the sign that said low tide -1.7 at 12:23 and thought great 12:30 I'll be back ready to run. At 12:22 I edged my way back to the starting area in time to hear the horn blast signaling the start of the race. AAARRRGGGGG!!! I wove my way through the loosely packed crowd of spectators and entered the mud but a few seconds after the start knowing full well my chance at finishing in the top was shot. My first few steps in the gick were very difficult as I aimed for fresh undamaged surface to steady my footfalls. I eventually took the very inside edge of the course and began to pass the slower mudders. Finally I reached un-trampled mud and was able to actually increase my pace or at least increase my turnover with shorter quicker steps. As I reached the first turn my breathing was unusually fast and I could feel my legs burning and my heart pounding. This stuff is hard to run in, that's when I noticed the laughter. The entire field of 200 adults seemed to be having a ball and laughing. This is something I have never experienced. Don't these people know this is a race? This is serious stuff. I rounded the turn carefully avoiding the barnacle encrusted post focusing on the short straightaway that led to the final turn and then the finish. As I turned I was cutoff by a flailing slogger cutting the corner to save time. As he passed he kicked up a large portion of the stinky ooze forcing me to slow to avoid being covered by his black rooster tail. I then decided to stop pushing and have fun. I began to laugh and enjoy the gick. I tried stepping in other's footprints to test if the footing was more solid and stable, it wasn't. the Final turn was marked with another barnacle encrusted post. I didn't seem to avoid this one and brushed up against it lacerating my elbow. Okay, fine, a mear srape barly a scratch, but a war wound none the less. "It's just a flesh wound." The finish was a messy and oxygen starved mass of doubled-over runners all reeling in the "schloppity schlop" that coated our bodies. Jonathan got a glimpse of my finish and took the shot as best he could, that's me in the white shirt. All in all I stayed pretty clean. Due to my ill planned starting technique I missed starting with Cheryl and Ama. their races were pretty much the same experience without the barnacle encounter. Cheryl finished a few seconds after me with a bit more of the course adorning her body and Ama (481) rounded out our team.

This event is a race and party for the family. If you get a chance I would highly suggest putting it on you calendar for 2009. The focus is to educate folks about the need for clean water in Puget Sound.

Not only was the race fun but the food was wonderful. There were various preparations of oysters, burgers, hot dogs, corn on the cob, strawberry shortcake, and a beer garden. The music is great and local and the family, at least Mr. Taylor, assisted in the rescue of one stranded youth runner to the cheers of the fans.

We had a great time and I do believe we will be back.

Tony

General Updates and a Rebublishing

The fourth of July always marks the beginning of summer for me. The celebration of my country seems to be the mark of commencement for BBQ's, camping, sprinklers, playing outside until 9pm and thickening of lush green forests.

I love this time of year, especially when it is ushered in with the weather it "should" have. We here in the NW experienced a June for the record books. It was labeled "Juneuary" due to the foul conditions including snowfall, chilly nights and gloomy rain. Then July arrived and the real summer began.

Our garden, at least those plants that were not killed off by the late snowfall, is producing a large crop of strawberries and raspberries. We are forced to harvest daily or allow the fruit to go bad. The boys are constantly sneaking into the fenced area and departing with berry juice around their mouths.

For my 41st birthday we went cliff jumping. Still in Chelan for the 4th, we took a boat up lake and found a nice 25 foot tall rock outcropping that made for just enough excitement but not to much pain on splashdown. This of course was preceded by the boys and mom being drug about in a tube.

The boys loved it, until the tube developed a rip and quickly lost air forming a human taco.

The rest of the trip was a wonderful time of hanging out and enjoying the company of friends and family.

(I have been asked to republish the story of my 40th birthday adventure. I will try and see if I can embed it here somewhere without the entire text being added.)

The cabin in the woods is moving along quite well. The bunks are done and the roof is on. I will have to update those images soon.

Jonathan, Gabe and I spotted something in the road as we were driving home today. It looked like a small cat or animal in the middle of the road on the dirty gravel. I was afraid it had been run over and we were first on scene. But what we found bathing in the fine grey dust was an adult peregrine falcon. I slowly rolled the car to within 10 feet of the majestic bird. He turned his head and looked at us as if to say, "Hey I'm taking a bath here, do you mind?" Gabe was in awe of the beautiful bird, Jonathan just wanted to get closer. It was so cool! He finally got uncomfortable with our presence and with a very quick flap shot to a branch on a nearby cedar. We watched him for a moment until we ventured off into the woods. It was quite an experience.

Okay, so my less than tech savvy mind has not been able to figure out how to add the Word document of my Snoqualmie to Stevens Pass story without adding the entire body of the story. So I'm going to ask all of you who want to read it to request it as an email attachment and I'll get it to ya. Just leave a comment and I'll get it to ya.

Thanks, Tony