The things I love include outings with my long-time friend and mentor, Mike. In May, we headed out to try an uncharted loop above and in Umtanum Canyon. The loop didn’t happen as planned, but many laughs were had over our attempt.
Hope you have an adventure-filled weekend. Here are a few favorite links from around the web this week.
40-ounce rose, dreams really do come true!
I was raised to value accountability and integrity, which is why it bugs me so much when someone bails on plans we’ve made. Brendan Leonard’s article – Flake on me once … actually just don’t flake – says everything I’ve ever wanted to say about this subject.
Pssst! “Vitamin I” is probably not good for endurance athletes.
The 40% rule, or how to seriously kick ass
Books I’m currently reading:
There were only two and a half days, and that included the going and coming. We took a look and almost said too much for too little. But really, how can you measure the value of a break from your daily routine, going where your whim directs, gardens, farmers markets, dusty bookstores, donuts, the fresh scent of a pine forest and waterfall mist on your face? All of it folded together, leaf upon leaf, a book of vibrant living.
Really, it would be best described as so much for so little.
Out of the saddle, grinding the pedals slowly…my bike inched up the impossibly steep wall of road in front of me. Common knowledge says the San Juan Islands are hilly, but this was insane. As I crested the hill, my husband was about 50 feet ahead of me. “Nick!” I wheezed. “I think [gasp] we may be going the [gasp] wrong way!”
The cycle map of San Juan Island that we brought didn’t have much detail for how to get out of Friday Harbor, so we pulled out the phone to check the Oracle of Google. Sure enough. Wrong way. Thankfully, what goes up, must come down, so we sped back into town to look for the correct road that would take us to our night’s camping destination.
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I lifted a foot to take a step just as a gust of wind passed. The rock below my other foot rocked, and I teetered precariously on my crampons, wishing I was on snow, not some loose piece of Cascade granite. The gust passed and I put my foot down, thankful that I didn’t get blown down the scree slope and onto the steep snow below.
We were on the false summit of Kololo Peaks. It wasn’t far to go to get to the true summit. Just down 50′ of scree to a saddle and back up another 100′ or so. My climbing team had done a grueling 13-mile approach and climbed in near white-out conditions. We weren’t about to be turned so short of our goal. We made it, snapped our “summit picture” and beat a hasty retreat back to camp.
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Scale is hard in Death Valley. The small cluster of rocks in the distance rises 66 feet above the dry lake bed. It is the only feature that interrupts the 3 1/2 square miles of nearly flat playa. I can’t help but feel that I am like this rock outcropping everywhere I go in Death Valley – dwarfed by the surrounding mountains. A tiny, lonely creature among giants.