December 31, 2010

Well, here we are in Las Vegas for New Year's Eve. No, not Las Vegas NV. Las Vegas, NM, the 'original' Las Vegas. We've been saying the 'wrong' Las Vegas, but the other one wasn't on the way between West Texas and Denver.

Yes, we're finally on the road! First phase of our move, the house hunting trip. But the last 24+ hours have been wild.

First, the nice weather (save for wind) that we've enjoyed most of the time we were at GUMO (NPS-speak for Guadalupe Mountains National Park) left us yesterday, in spades. By Wednesday, the wind was gusting at 60 mph, and yesterday it seemed even higher, though I didn't have time to check it. Around noon, the clouds started rolling in. Before the night was over, we had freezing rain, as well.

I had thought I was done with laundry, silly me, because all our clothes were clean. But yesterday I realized that we would need to wash all the bedding that stayed at the park, the bath mats, our towels, well...lots. Between pushing my way out the door with the wind trying to hold it shut, running across to the laundry facility, and cleaning like mad while loads were washing and drying, I was racing the clock all day.

Budd came home early, having taken a few hours of leave time and combined them with the 'leave early' word that came through, so he started taking the electronics apart and loading the car. He had asked if he could park the car on the lawn to the north of our duplex where it would be somewhat protected from the wind, so he could open the doors and the cartop carrier without fearing they'd be ripped off as he struggled to load things. The maintenance supervisor told him it would probably be frowned upon, but to do it and see what happened. Fortunately, nothing happened.

We weren't quite finished with the cleaning and still had a long way to go on loading when the same guy showed up for a check-out inspection. I guess the clean bedroom and bathroom convinced him I'd leave the kitchen and living room clean, too, because he signed off on it. Budd and I continued to dance around each other, as I was now picking up whatever turned up after he had moved a box or packed a computer, and trying to figure out where to put it that made the most sense. Every time he left the house with something to load, he left the door open, so I was constantly going to shut the door. Finally it was too dark for him to see much, and I finished putting everything in our green chili stew for dinner and sat down to rest while it cooked down.

The next thing I knew, Budd had a bowl of stew and was sitting on the couch with it. I told him if I had known he was ready to eat, I'd have served it up, so we both adjourned to the dining table and enjoyed our last few peaceful moments until just now.

We had finished eating and I had finished washing the dishes and had just dumped the leftover stew into the garbage disposal when the power bumped, once, twice, three times, then went out for good. Budd was cussing a blue streak because the laptop was hooked up without a UPS to protect it from the surges. I was feeling around in the pitch dark for the emergency lantern I had last seen on his end table. The wind was howling loud enough that if a locomotive had come through the house right then, we wouldn't have heard it. Pure panic time!

Finally, I found the lantern and figured out how to turn it on. Budd had managed to turn off the laptop in case the power surged again when it came back on. We needn't have worried...

We called the power company and were told that a crew was on its way from Queen, a tiny town on the other side of the Guadalupes. We knew it would take two hours to get to us from there under the best of circumstances. In the dark and stormy weather, who knew? Budd called the park supervisor, because we could see lights across the way, and learned that there were three legs of the power grid--only ours was out. But he had candles, did we want some? YES!!! We didn't know how long the batteries would last to the emergency lantern. So Budd went over to get the candles, and came back with three little 2-oz fragrance candles--not much light!

We settled down to wait, snuggled under a blanket and fretting that we were missing the Jazz game, trying to read by the dim light of the lantern, and worrying about getting the rest of our tasks done if the lights didn't come back on all night. And they didn't!!! That was one of the coldest nights I've spent in many years...always before when the power went out we've had a fireplace to keep us warm. Fortunately it was toasty under all those clean blankets, lol. We had planned to sleep in our clothes on the couches anyway, so the bed linens wouldn't have to be washed in the morning, but we had to get out the park blankets because ours weren't sufficient, especially after one had to be hung up over the window to stop the cold draft. About nine p.m. my eyes gave up from fatigue and I fell asleep.

The trouble with falling asleep at nine is you wake up at four a.m., ready to get up. But there was still no power and it was too dark to do anything, so I spent another fitful three hours until there was a hint of light coming through the blinds on the window we hadn't covered. I decided to go ahead and wash the pot I had made stew in the night before, so I could heat a good amount of water for washing up, and that's when I realized that the garbage disposal wasn't going to run! Elbow deep in freezing water, I pulled out as much of the gunk as I could, so the sink would drain (yeah--a one-sink kitchen).

I lit the propane stove burners with matches and managed to make a good, filling breakfast though what I had planned required the oven and it wouldn't light. I had all four burners turned up to high to at least heat the kitchen, and for the first time was grateful for that tiny kitchen, too small for both Budd and I to be in it at the same time.

Well, it was clear that the rest of the packing and cleaning would have to be done without power, so we just did it. Wrote the maintenance supervisor a note saying the dishes in the dishwasher had been prewashed, but would need to run through a DW cycle. The garbage disposal would need to be run, and sorry about the half-vacuumed house. We pulled out at 10 a.m., Budd in the park vehicle, which needed to be taken back to his office, and me in our car, perched on the edge of the driver's seat holding on to the wheel to keep from falling backward. Had to leave it at Budd's setting, because if I had pulled it forward to mine everything in the back seat would have fallen forward and would have to be repacked before he could get in. Have I ever mentioned he is 13 inches taller than I am?

After that, the drive was relatively uneventful...and here we are, halfway to Denver. Whew!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Wrapping it up: On New Year's Day we completed our journey to the Denver area, an uneventful but beautiful drive. We are now here in Golden for a six-day househunting trip, after which we will return to the Salt Lake City area for a few days. Budd has some things to wrap up at his home park, Timpanogos Cave National Monument, and then we meet the movers on January 12. Since we won't be wanderers any more, this blog is done.

It's been fun, and I hope my readers have enjoyed following us on our journeys. By now I'm used to journaling online, so I may continue, but if so it will be at another location. I'll still be active on Facebook, so catch me there if you'd like.

Adios!

December 25, 2010

If you are a regular reader, it can hardly have escaped your notice that Budd and I are closing a chapter of our lives and beginning a new one. As I edited this blog to print out for my mother-in-law's Christmas gift, I felt a lot of emotions that I hadn't expected. Gratitude that we had this opportunity for a travelling adventure, joy about some unexpected discoveries, coming to peace with the notion that I'm not going 'home', and our hometown may be several hundred miles away from all of our kids and grandkids for the foreseeable future.

Once again, yesterday (Christmas Day), I found myself looking back. One year ago, on Christmas Day 2009, we also didn't have a tree to speak of. We were preparing to move and basically going into the unknown. Since we would be placing all of our possessions, save a few that we would have with us, in storage, our home was full of boxes. Decorating seemed not only futile but foolish. I took out a little artificial miniature evergreen tree in a gold flowerpot, with gold decorations and ribbon on it, and that was our tree. Under it were our gifts to each other, something small and practical, I don't even remember now what they were.

Our house had always been the gathering place. I always cooked the Christmas feast, and we always had the kids and grandkids open their gifts from us under OUR tree. This was tradition. Last year, all was topsy-turvy. My kitchen was virtually packed up already, just a few pans I was taking with me and one set of dinnerware left out for our last few days. We gathered with the other kids at the home of one of my daughters. That was convenient, as both of my sons were living there at the time, and all of the grandkids were there--my daughter's five, and my two boys' three. Only my other daughter and her husband were missing, and not for long. In a much smaller house, my four kids, spouses to two of them and eight grandkids, plus my son-in-law's mother and us, and for a few minutes his aunt and her grown kids, all found a spot to perch among the wrapping paper, bows and scattered toys to eat a dinner I didn't know my daughter knew how to cook. It was wonderful!

Within a few days after that, the rest of our possessions were packed and our two sons and two sons-in-law had made relatively short work of transferring everything to two big storage units, side by side in an indoor facility. We were left with just slightly too much to pack into my husband's '92 Ford F150 and my Buick Century. In a raging blizzard, we crept downtown to pick up a small U-Haul and arrived just minutes after they closed. I was determined that taking our lives in our hands in that blizzard would not be in vain, and finally caught the eye of one employee who was wrapping up the paperwork for the night. He took pity on us, and we drove away with the trailer. The next morning, I raced around to stores trying to find a hands-free set compatible with my husband's cell phone so we could be in contact while we drove the 485 miles to our first destination, Chinle, AZ and Canyon de Chelly. Meanwhile, Budd unpacked the pickup and repacked everything into the trailer, adding the items that wouldn't fit before. We set out for the unknown on Dec. 31, 2009, and the rest is history, as they say.

On Dec. 31, 2010, we'll set out again, travelling much lighter with just the Buick--we left everything else in storage last time we dropped by Salt Lake to touch base. This time we know a little bit about what to expect. We've lived in the area for a month on an assignment earlier this year. We know where to find the stores we like, a little bit about what neighborhoods are like, and exactly where DH's office will be-just across the street and a block south of where we lived in August. We hope this new adventure will last longer than a year, though we've both remarked how perfectly it worked out for the current one to last exactly a year.

And we both hope we won't get bored, staying in one place. Maybe next Christmas will find us saying, 'we really need to get on the road again'. We'll see...

December 15, 2010

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

About the time I finally got it through my head that the Forest Service is going to pay for moving our household goods and furniture, which was amazing enough, Budd received an email with the paperwork. We are to fill it out and fax it in, then a coordinator will call us, the request will be refined, and Budd will sign the final paperwork for it.

Guess what's on it? A HOUSEHUNTING TRIP!!! To say this solves all my problems would be a slight exaggeration, but WOW! It solves a lot. We won't have to rent a house unseen, which means agents will work with us. There's even a potential that an agent who specializes in relocation will be assigned to us to help us narrow it down before we get there.

Oh, about that 'we', it may be that only one of us gets to go. That would be me. The last time Budd acquired a home for us without me, the result was a disaster with far-reaching consequences. I'm not blaming him, he just didn't have a clue what warning signs to look for in a big city, and the choices were limited anyway. That was over 20 years ago, and I’m sure he would do a fine job now. But if I can go and he can stay and work, that's better for the finances anyway. We'll find out soon. I can wait....for a minute.

Every silver lining has it's cloud, though. Isn't that the way the saying goes? This isn't a very big cloud, but...I don't have a coat with me. I never got back to Salt Lake after the weather started turning, so my winter clothes (which no longer fit me anyway) are stored there. We haven't needed much in the way of cold-weather gear here. I have a light quilted jacket. I guess I get off the plane in layers topped by that and go straight to Ross or Burlington to buy a heavy coat, the likes of which they don't even carry in the stores here. And mittens. And a knitted hat. And snow boots...well, you get the picture. OK, cloud dispersed.

To say we have a LOT to be grateful for would be no exaggeration at all. We never dreamed that things would come together like this. New job, wonderful. Paid move, outstanding. Househunting trip? Nothing short of incredible!!!

This is me:

Tuesday, December 14, 2010 (Catching up again)

To begin, with no apology whatsoever I quote myself from something I posted on a friend's blog that got me thinking about the day I'm about to start.

"Have you ever seen the movie "Fast Forward"? We watched part of it again just a few days ago, and yesterday Budd asked me, if we had one of those remotes, wouldn't you honestly fast forward about three weeks right now? A few years ago I would have told him yes. Even now I have to restrain myself from wishing away the few days until Christmas. I think what made the difference was surrendering myself to the concept that I can't control everything in my life."

I have to confess, though, that I haven't entirely surrendered. That occurred to me shortly after I clicked the 'submit' button. Like a millisecond. Because if I could control everything in my life, I'd certainly be pointing that remote at Budd right now to have him make up his mind about the logistics of our move.

I once made a study of something called Human Dynamics. The authors of the theory stated that something you and I have always thought of as personality differences are actually differences in cognitive processing--how our brains organize information on a moment-to-moment basis. Although I hated being placed in a neat little box, I have to admit that understanding the theory has served me fairly well over the years, and by the way has kept me from allowing the violent little control freak inside me from murdering poor Budd.

You see, we have similar processes to a certain extent. In the parlance of the HD theory, he is a physical-emotional thinker, and I'm a physical-mental. What that comes down to in a process like what we're going through right now is that we both gather facts--lots and lots of facts. He gathers them like you would gather apples in a basket, throwing them all in together and continuing to gather as he tries to decide which delicious apple to eat. I gather them into sorting bins. As I pick up each one, it goes into a compartment based on size, degree of ripeness, variety and whether or not it has blemishes. When I have what I consider enough apples, I have them all sorted and know exactly which one I'm going to eat. In fact, as soon as I have picked up the perfect size, variety and non-blemished ripe apple, that's when I've gathered enough.

If that metaphor wasn't too extended and labored, you'll know that means that Budd can't make up his mind, and it's driving me bonkers! Should he extend his commitment here until January 7 to minimize the time between jobs without pay? Should he make an attempt to get back to Canyon de Chelly for that week instead, which had been in the plans before he got the new job? Should he listen to his dear wife and understand that we need both of those weeks to take care of moving business? If so, should we go to Salt Lake to prepare and then go to Denver, necessitating a housing decision by long distance, or should we go to Denver first, secure the housing, then go to Salt Lake? Or not go to Salt Lake at all? Where's the emoticon for shrieking and tearing your hair out???!!!

Just decide, and I'll adjust. But I have to have a decision from which to base my planning. The upshot is that I'm running around in circles and half the work is wasted. Yesterday's discovery that 90% of the property management companies won't allow us to sign a lease sight-unseen may legislate in favor of the Denver first decision, but if he decides to work an extra week, I just don't see how we get everything done before he starts the new job. The fact that I'm limited in my driving time by acute highway hypnosis--I go to sleep--means that I can't do it without him to at least drive me places...

Yep, maybe I could use that remote after all.

P.S. Does nervous energy burn calories?

December 14, 2010

On Sunday we went back to Carlsbad Cavern to do the hike we had planned for Friday but couldn't complete due to our late start. I've never been so glad to have my plans interrupted as I was on Friday, but I did still want to enter the cavern from the natural entrance and hike the 3 miles to tour the main trail.

When I was nine years old (I had always thought eight, but my mother says nine), my family, all but my sister who was a baby of one at the time, toured the cavern. In those days all tours were ranger-led, and everyone took the natural entrance. From that entrance, the trail drops steeply for one and a half miles or so, descending about 800 feet into the maze of intersecting caves. Then it rises about 40 feet to enter The Big Room. Those who take the elevator down nowadays pass where the trail enters shortly after leaving the underground restaurant/gift shop area at the lower end of the elevator. From here, the trail skirts the side of the huge room, travelling in a counterclockwise direction for another mile and a half through some of the most beautiful, spectacular features in the main area.

I have little memory of the tour when I was nine. What I do remember tells me that we walked forever, I held my mother's hand for part of the way, and that at some point we stopped for a while, my mother dropped my hand to do something for my little brother, and the lights went out. I was petrified, afraid to move for what seemed like an interminable time. There is no light whatsoever that deep into the cavern, and my memory's impression was that there was a drop-off just beyond the handrail. Because I was small and the handrail was not adequate to keep me from slipping through, I was terrified. I have always attributed my claustrophobia to this experience, as I don't recall being afraid of the dark or of confined spaces before that.

Now for reality...that stop was always made in front of the formation called "Rock of Ages". At that spot, the lights were turned out and the ranger led the tour in singing the old hymn of that name. Of course now that can't happen, and the tour is self-guided anyway. But I've visited the spot twice in the past 72 hours and I now know...there is no drop-off, or anything that could have been interpreted as a drop-off in that location. Strange what a child's perceptions can do to the adult's memory. So I faced my nemesis, here's proof:

By the way, this is an active cave, and a number of the pictures have artifacts like the large white circle over my left shoulder that I think are drops of water that caught the flash.

Now, that formation is near the end of the hike we took today--these pictures aren't in chronological order this time. Budd had the camera, except for the spot near the entrance where I asked for it to take this picture. Duck!


There were several spots where he had to, and not one had a warning sign!


He took a couple hundred pictures, some that were absolutely spectacular. However, it's impossible to put all of them here, and I haven't been through them enough to choose a few samples. So I picked a few that had me in them for your entertainment.

In this next picture, Budd wanted me to stand by the speleothem to give some height perspective. While I was waiting for the flash, a feature of the formation that I hadn't realized before caught my eye. The inside of these 'draperies' are crystalline!



Once Budd had as many shots as he wanted, I called him over and asked for a close-up. Though it's spectacular, this picture didn't do the crystal justice. The arrow points to the one I was looking at.


The final one caught my eye as people ahead of us disappeared around the corner and then their legs appeared in the window. I had Budd stay behind and went around to play peekaboo with him...


When I've had a chance to sort through the rest, I'll post some on a Facebook album and post a link here. We covered the three miles total hike in right at 3 hours, thanks to long stops for Budd to get his photos. But even though I'll share, I have to say that no photo can capture the sheer wonder of this place. Everywhere you look, spectacular sights greet you. Words can't convey it either, you have to be there. I'm so thankful I got to see it again as an adult, as my childhood memories didn't do it any kind of justice.

December 11, 2010

Since the events of the last blog, our world has changed entirely again, and this time it has been cause for wild celebration!

On Monday of this week, Budd had an interview with a committee from the US Forest Service, Job Corps division. The job he had applied for was a help-desk position, and he found out during the interview that if selected he would be supporting 28 Job Corps sites all over the U.S., from Golden, CO. When he returned home after work I asked him how the interview had gone, and he said he thought ok. We didn't discuss it any further, we've been here before. They had told him it would be 2-3 weeks before a decision would be made.

Instead, our discussion centered on our Christmas plans. With his hours for this seasonal position drawing to a close, he didn't want to take a week off and go to Salt Lake. We'll miss our kids terribly--this is the first time since I started having kids that I wasn't with at least some of them, and now grandkids, for Christmas. But it's just too impractical to get there and back. It's a 3-day drive for us with short days (we're both night-blind), and then 3 days back.

Tuesday, Budd received an instant message from his supervisor at Timpanogos Cave (his home park): call me. As soon as he could, Budd gave him a call and received some startling news. The hiring committee from the previous day's interview had called to check references, and told him that Budd was their top candidate. Now we're on pins and needles, but still expect to hear in 2-3 weeks. We know there's a process involved, and it doesn't go fast, especially at this time of year.

Yesterday, we had a Carlsbad Cavern tour planned. Budd had business in town, and had received permission from the superintendent here to take me with him and do the tour on work time. One of the great perks of the Park service is that employees, even those who aren't rangers, are expected to be knowledgeable about the parks, and are given time off with pay to explore when it's practical.

I was waiting for him to return from what he thought would be about two hours' worth of work before we could go, when the phone rang. The voice on the other end identified the caller as a Job Corps staffer, and wanted to talk to Budd. I was so agitated that I failed to get her name to write down, or her phone number! I just gave her Budd's work cell phone and started to pace. Fifteen minutes later, Budd called and told me that he would be late for our trip. He needed to get some paperwork to the Job Corps HR staffer that proved he had worked for at least a year at his current rating, and then they could offer him the job! In the middle of everything, the local phone company showed up for a trouble call Budd had placed two weeks ago. What a zoo!

I couldn't believe my reaction to this news. First, of course, I whooped and yelled and danced around the house. At long last, after more than two years of applications, 18 months of uncertainty while working for the Park Service, and just over a month away from unemployment, a permanent job is his! Not only a permanent job, but one of the best work situations he has applied for, and in a location we are happy with. Then, much to my surprise, I started shaking and dissolved in tears! After a few minutes, I got myself under control and started whirling around the house again.

By this time, we were quite late for our day's plans. I decided we would probably stay overnight in Carlsbad so we could celebrate our good fortune, and got out the suitcase to pack. I had no sooner finished getting my items into the bag when Budd blew in the door and we collided for a hug and screamed a little more together. Now it was 12:15, and we decided that we'd do the cavern tour on the way into town. Both of us grabbed a quick bite to eat, he threw his things into the bag and by 12:30 we were in the car...

Which wouldn't start! The battery was completely dead, all we got was a click. Budd jumped out of the car and cleaned the terminals, but still no luck. So he dug into the trunk under the spare for our jumper cables, and soon had it started, thanks to bringing home his work vehicle (usually a no-no). Off we went, sailing down the highway for a full mile before he remembered he hadn't rotated the backup drives. We had to turn around.

Now we were playing phone tag with the IT person at Carlsbad, who had arranged our tour. Budd left her a message, then she left him a message. Which said that the last tour leaving through the natural entrance of the cave was at 2 p.m. It was now 1:15, and the turnoff to the Cavern is 40 miles away. I said, 'Let's try to make it,' then had to specify that I didn't mean by doing 75 in a 55 zone. Budd slowed down 'til we were out of the park and the limit was in fact 75. We got to the visitor center 2 minutes late.

We did do part of the tour, going down the elevator to save some time, only to discover that I had left the SD chip in the slot of my home computer, and hadn't brought a spare battery. When we came to the fork in the cavern trail that was a short-cut back to the elevator, we called it a day, promising ourselves to come back on Sunday (tomorrow) for the natural-entrance tour. With my hiking habit, this will be far more satisfactory to me--I just hope his hip will take it. That's been sore from some unaccustomed crawling under desks and climbing ladders to disconnect and reconnect computers during a re-carpeting project at Guadalupe's visitor center.

Last night we had dinner at a restaurant that has been created in the last year in a historic building in Carlsbad. The Trinity Hotel and Restaurant has a fascinating history, including a robbery in the bank that used to be in the building--by none other than Bonnie and Clyde! The food was excellent, as was the service. I had grilled salmon with a champagne chablis sauce and steamed vegetables. We shared a goat cheese appetizer that had been drizzled with blackberry/habanero sauce, delicious and spicy! Following that with a delectable tiramisu, we rolled out of the restaurant looking for live music, which was not to be found in Carlsbad last night. Oh, well.

And now I'm here, finally caught up for the last three week's events, and looking forward to that Jazz game at Mavs in a few minutes.

We've got a lot of logistics to work out in the next couple of weeks, but there's nothing we can do about it right now. I'm ready to relax!

December 2, 2010 (Last catch-up blog)

Today's venture was planned for new territory--Bear Canyon--that branches off in the middle of the Foothills-Frijole Loop I did over a month ago. I didn't feel the need to get all the way to the top, and promised Budd I would turn around at 2 p.m. no matter where I was, to be sure I was home well before dark. The Bear Canyon trail is 1.8 miles from the turnoff to the top, where it joins the Tejas trail, the major East-West trail that traverses the park. It is rated strenuous.

From the outset this hike was weird for me. I planned to do it yesterday, then let the forecast persuade me to put it off until today, which was supposed to be in the low 60s. Then I left late, leaving the house around 11 am. I went first to the Visitor Center to mail a birthday card to a grandson and check their large-scale map for distances, because it shows the distance of each segment of the trail. I wanted to know which end of Frijole trail to approach from, so I could save my legs and my energy for the strenuous part after the Bear Canyon trail turns off. I determined that it was best to start from the trailhead at Frijole Ranch, and then let the interp persuade me to see if I could check out a radio (no), so I think I actually got on the trail about 11:30 a.m., or maybe just a little earlier.

It's been a week of rest and a massage since I wore myself to a nub on Guadalupe Peak trail. You'd think I'd be ready. But even the familiar 1/3 mile from the trailhead seemed to tire me more quickly than it should have. Not to mention the heat! Even on a 55-degree December morning, the sun is HOT at 5500 feet. It was far to the south, so I knew when I turned west there would be shade from the canyon walls, but I was wishing for a short-sleeved T before I got to the first branch of the trail. Still, I pushed on, anticipating a cooler trek once I gained the canyon. Along the way I passed what looked like a shady oasis and thought about eating the trail lunch I had brought--a cheese stick and an apple. But it has become my habit to eat at the turnaround point no matter what time of day that takes me to, so I kept going.

The last time I had hiked this trail I was going in the other direction and I had on new boots. Now those boots have seen more than 30 miles of rough rocky trails--we're old friends. Each time I passed a familiar spot, usually where I had stopped and at least thought about taking a picture, I would think 'The turnoff is just ahead.' I was baking in the sun and really wanted to turn into that canyon where I thought I could stay under the trees in the watershed. Finally, I was right. I spotted the sign for the turnoff just ahead.

Turning west, I began to feel better about the whole thing. A new trail is always exciting, at least until you discover it wasn't the experience you thought it would be, which I did about a tenth of a mile along, when the trail turned south again and led up to what looked like the top of the ridge! This wasn't the plan...I thought I'd be hiking the watershed. Well, I guess that's either too rough or too ecologically delicate, because the trail skirted the south canyon wall far above it. At least there were times when the steep hillside and the vegetation growing on it afforded a little shade. At one switchback I paused to take a picture back the way I had come.


Looking ahead I saw an area that looked to be deep in the shadow of the mountain, where I decided I would turn around after eating. I knew the Frijole part of the trail was a 3-mile round trip, and that was enough for me. But because my 2 p.m. BodyBugg alarm hadn't sounded yet when I got to the shade, I decided to keep going until either the alarm went off or I reached the end of the shade. Which I did just a few yards further along. At that point, the trail crossed the watershed and continued back to the north side of the canyon, which meant it would be in sun all the way to the top. Nope, I was done.

I found a smooth rock and sat down to take off my pack. When I got the cheese out, I found that it had melted to a soggy semblance of its former self, but it was still good. Gobbled it down in three bites, ate my apple, and then got up for the return trip. But not before taking a picture of this outcrop for its interesting color pattern. It was directly above me.


Back I went the way I had come, making better time in spite of picking my steps very carefully. I was almost shuffling, which made my foot get high-centered on a fist-sized rock more than once. The trick is to pick the steps that won't result in a mini rock-slide. No radio, no sprained ankles, that was my plan!

Making it back to the relatively flat part of the trail shortly after two, I couldn't help but compare my condition today with the return trip from Guad Peak. Shoulders, sore from the pack. Knees, sore and stressed from steep downhill climb. Back, pretty tired. What the heck is going on here? The distance, as nearly as I could figure it from the Google tracking application, was a little less than half the Guad Peak distance, at 3.9 miles or so. The time was a little less than half the time, four hours almost exactly when I got back to the car. Why do I feel almost as tired?

I don't have access to a physical trainer or fitness instructor, so I found myself wondering--did I go too soon? Should I have waited a little longer for everything to fully recuperate before taking another steep climb? Or did I go too late, letting my conditioning fall below where I was last week with our long drive to Dallas and no exercise? The question may be moot anyway, as tomorrow and Saturday are the last nice days for at least a week if the 10-day forecast is to be believed. I don't think I could face a challenge that soon. And by the time the wind dies down again (if it does--I can't see beyond the 10 days) it may be too cold or I may be packing to move again.

This could have been my last hike for the year. I may be a little sad about that later, but right now it's ok.