Jill, Joel, and Jan?

They’d once gone to the woods together, where he tried to enter her world of absorption as she fixed her gaze on lichen—but his mind had wandered like a free-range chicken, and he ended up thinking through a sermon based on Philippians four-thirteen. (From Jan Karon, "Out To Canaan")

Jill and I have been doing some camping the past few weeks. Nothing serious--quick overnighters with our dog, big tent (to accommodate the dog), and shiny new Coleman stove. We sit around some, hike some, read some, and--when Daisy allows--sleep some. It's good.

Two weekends ago Jill's brother Luke joined us on a whim. We camped near the top of Guanella Pass (@10,500 ft). Memorable moments included waking up at 2:30 am and looking at the stars--they were amazing. Like handfuls of salt sprinkled on a dark canvas. The next day, we tested Luke's flat-lander lungs and hiked our first "14er"*--Mt. Bierstadt. Luke was a champ.

Last weekend, Jill's folks were out and we rented a cabin in the mountains. Except for our dog deciding that she had to hunt mice in the middle of the night, it was a good trip. Again-=-hiked some (Rocky Mountain National Park), read some, sat some, slept some. Oh, and we gamed some. I didn't win every game of Settlers, but two out of three isn't bad. (Of course, I'd rather not talk about Ticket to Ride.)


Here are some pics of the past month...


*A "14er" is a mountain that is over 14,000 feet. There are 54 (56?) in Co. Some people make it a goal to climb all of them.

Bachin' It: An Ode to Jill

I've been "bachin' it" the last few days. Jill has been in NY visiting her family since last Friday. That means that I've spent a lot of time doing "sermon research" (watching movies and reading), going for long bike rides*, eating nachos and drinking Pepsi One (that one calorie really does make a difference).

But she's finally coming home today.

That's probably good--on many levels. It's good because I miss her, of course. But it's also good because our household probably can't tolerate her absence much longer. Things just seem to go down hill when she's not around. And it's not just the fact that she has a much lower threshold for messiness than I do (why put in the dishwasher today what you can put in tomorrow?). Here's a short list of the (minor) catastrophes that occurred while Jill was gone.

• On Saturday, I went for a road ride with a local bike club. 60 miles should not have been a big deal. But I forget to take food (I thought we were out. Talking with Jill Sat. night, she reminded me that we were not--I just hadn't looked in the right spot). Well, I blew up--big time. I've never felt so awful on a bike. Toward the end, I even wanted to puke going downhill. Sunday, my lungs/chest still hurt. I'm sure this would not have happened if Jill were around.
• Food wasn't the only thing I forgot on Saturday. I also forgot sunscreen. I got my first burn of the year (pretty good, really). Saturday night my increasingly "noble forehead" had little strips of burn where the sun snuck through the vents in my helmet.
• Sunday, I decided to make myself a frozen pizza for supper. Frozen pizza is usually one of life's little pleasures for me (I even splurged and got Digornoes). But it's less pleasurable when you forget to take the cardboard out from under the pizza when you slide it in the oven. Thankfully, no fires.
• Monday night, I read a spooky article on rattle snakes right before bed. I tossed and turned and had bad dreams all night. I suspect my beloved wife would've censored my reading material (or, more likely, told me to go to bed earlier) and prevented this too.
• Even Daisy has been affected by Jill's absence. Last night, I had to let the distraught pup out three times. This morning I discovered that it was because of a nasty case of diarrhea. It could've been from her snarfing of the neighbor's peaches. But I think it was because she missed Jill. Regardless, it was very nasty. But even that wasn't the worst of it.
• The worst of it happened on Sunday. I decided to pick up some ice-cream with my Digornoes. Coffee/fudge = good. The bad part was that I didn't realize until I got home that it was "fat free." What a disaster. That too, I trust, would have easily been avoided if Jill were at home.

*CL: I road the first section of the Colorado Trail on Monday. It's sweet. I'll post pictures when my computer starts cooperating. That may or may not be after the Second Coming.

Things I DON'T LIke About Living in CO

One of my dreams is to live in a place that is "safe." No crazy weather (hurricanes or earthquakes). No venomous snakes. No scary bugs.

Apparently, CO is not that place.

Aside from an occasional blizzard and a perennial drought, the weather is great. But I'm not a fan of the wildlife.

Two weeks ago I saw a rattle snake while mountain biking. And today, I was told that a woman from church got bit by a black widow while looking for something in her garage.

Yikes. THAT's creepy.

Bad Timing

Jill and I got new neighbors this week. My pal Pico (from seminary) and his lovely wife Kim (from Kenosha, WI) moved into the house on the other side of church. They'll be living there for the next year while Pico (AKA"Chris") does a chaplaincy internship (AKA "CPE) at a local hospital (AKA "Swedish"). Jill and I are delighted at the prospect of having friends our age around--but we're trying not to be overbearing or creepy about it.



Chris and Kim, on the other hand, are probably just happy to have had their worldly goods arrive. They've been waiting for almost a week for the moving truck to get here, and Monday it finally did. But apparently, they weren't the only fresh faces to move into the neighborhood. How do I know this? Well, on Friday some concerned citizen went around stuffing pieces of paper into mailboxes and behind screen doors, informing all that a registered sex offender had just moved into the area. Yeesh. That's some bad timing.



Hopefully, Chris (and Kim) don't get too many dirty looks.

Lessons Learned

I didn't get to go for a bike ride last week Tuesday (the day after my last post). I was too sore. But it probably wasn't what you think.

You probably think that I was sore from my bike ride on Saturday . But that wasn't the real trouble. The real trouble started on Monday, when I decided NOT to ride. Instead, I thought it would be a better idea to relax in the hammock chair. Maybe read a book. Perhaps take a little nap.

The only catch was that my hammock chair was sitting in the basement. I had not quite gotten around to hanging it in that perfect spot above the back patio.

"Well," I thought to myself, "I'm no mechanical genius, but I think I can hang up a hammock chair ."

I clearly overestimated myself. Because that's where my trouble began. Big, big trouble. The kind of trouble that starts with T , which rhymes with P, and that stands for pool....but I digress.

With great gusto I marched to the garage, and with childlike glee I grabbed my drill (a rare occurence), gave it a few revs and checked the battery, and then located what I was sure was the perfect hook for hanging a hammock chair. I figured I'd be relaxing in minutes.

And much to my delight, I was.

It was pure bliss.

For about two and a half seconds.

But then, my world (or maybe just my self) came crashing down. Before I knew it, my chair was no longer suspended the three and a half feet above the cement patio. It was on the cement patio. And so was I. I had landed quite squarely on my tailbone. And that hurt. A lot.

That's why I didn't go on a bike ride on Tuesday.

But on the bright side, all was not lost. I did learn some valuable lessons through this (painful) experience.

Perhaps the most important lesson was "Listen to your wife." You see, Jill had been watching with mild interest (amusement?) as I attempted to hang the chair. And at one point, she gave the hook and had taken from the garage a wary look and said, "Are you sure that thing will hold you? Because I sure don't think it will..." I don't remember my exact reply. I either said, "What, is that some sort of fat joke?" or just shrugged my shoulders and gave a little "meh." But either way, the end result was the same. I continued what I was doing, ignored her advice. And ended up in a world of hurt.

Next time, I'll listen.

Maybe.

Lesson number two was a reminder that I'm married to a very gracious woman. When I came crashing to the ground , Jill didn't say, "I told you so. " She didn't make disparaging (but accurate?) comments about my intelligence or mechanical ability. Nor did she fall to the ground in a shoulder-shaking, breath-taking boute of laughter. In fact, she didn't laugh at all. Instead, the first thing she blurted out was what we might consider the third lesson learned from this experience:

"Wow, gravity sure is strong!"

And there you have it. A sore butt and bruised ego. But I'd say, some very important lessons learned!

Piece of Cake

Well, Saturday was the big "Triple Bypass" . Some of you may recall from an earlier post that I was somewhat apprehensive about the ride. But it turns out, things went better than I dared hope.

I came. I rode. I rode some more. I conquered.

But I think I got off easy.

For one thing, there was the weather. It was perfect. "The best ever", is what I'm told. Partly cloudy. 70s. No raging headwinds (only mild ones). Only a few minutes of rain (and that during the last 30 minutes of the ride. This is unusual---people usually expect a good thunderstorm at some point during the day.) Compare that to last year, when there was so much rain, snow, cold, and carnage that at least half of the riders quit. I can just imagine what those who actually finished will say when I tell them I rode this year. "Yeah...well, back in MY day, in ought 6, it was so cold we got hypothermia coming down Squaw pass. And that was just the beginning.."

But the weather wasn't the only unfair advantage I had. You might also consider the distinct advantage my body type has for around half of the miles of the TBP. Weighing in at around 220, I am able to descend much more quickly than your typical 140-150 pound cyclist. I easily cruised down Loveland pass, for example, at speeds of 45mph before tapping the breaks (my riding partners who weigh about the same cracked 50.) Clearly, with nearly half of the ride being down hill, I had it easy here too. I can just hear the skinny guys say: "Yeah, you Clydestales may have to carry an extra hundred pounds on the way up. But it sure pays off on the way down!"

And then there was my gear. Compared to most people on this type of ride, I have nice, but not outrageously nice, cycling gear. But compared to the guy I passed going up Loveland pass, mine was completly over the top (no pun intended). If you look closely at the pictures to the right, you'll notice that he's riding up Loveland Pass on an old Schwinn Stingray.* It has a bannana seat. Chopper bars. According to the old Schwinn catalogues, it was around 39 pounds.** And you'll also notice that this fine gentleman is riding without padded shorts etc. Instead, he's dressed for comfort in cut-off jean shorts, a Rolling Stones t-shirt (taking with him at the top he was quite proud of that shirt!), and boots. Ouch.

Like I said, with the exception of the 120 miles, 10,000+ feet of climbing that the ride involved, I had it easy.

Now about that.

For those of you interested in the details, we left Evergreen around 6:20 and immediately started climbing the 18 miles up Squaw/Juniper Pass. That took a little under 2 hours. Coming up was great, but to tell the truth, going down was a little cold (the west side of the mountain doesn't get much sun at 8 am!). Once we got to the bottom of that (Idaho Springs), we started the loooong, slow climb up to the top of Loveland Pass. This seemed to be typical for the last two passes. A fair amount of elevation gain spread out over a lot of miles. This could make for a long, slow grind, but I rode conservatively and I felt fine for most of it. It was only toward the end of Vail Pass (Pass number 3) that I wondered what on earth I was trying to prove. However, at the top I had some oreos and watermelon and felt revived for the 25 mile descent to the finish. That was a good way to end.

Here are the stats, which I'll be determined to beat next year:

• Start time: 6:20 ish.


• Finish Time: 4:20 ish.


• Average Moving Speed: 14:3 ish.


• Time on Bike: 8 hours and 25 minutes ish.


• Max Speed: 45 mph ish.


• Total Mileage: 121 miles (ish)

And here are some random pics from the day, including the actual piece of cake referred to in the title of this post (the ride really was not that). It was my birthday cake, two weeks late, because I was trying to hold off on the ice cream in order to keep in nice, svelte climbing shape.

One of the five (?) reststops on the route. Somehow, me and the guys I was riding with managed to find each other at these.

Going up Loveland Pass.


"Silent Bob", chatting it up Loveland Pass.

Me: at the Top of Loveland Pass. Only a little lightheaded.

Crazy Guy: at the top of Loveland Pass. No more lightheaded than usual.

MMMM. Cake. What Jill did while she pined away for me...

*I don't know if he rode from the beginning. But I am quite certain we saw him roll into Avon some 60 miles later a few hours after we got in).

*My bike probably weighs about 23 with all my stuff. The real "Weight Weenies" (read: "rich guys") get their bikes down around 15lbs

Things I like about CO: Part III

Now that I'm an old codger of 27, I'm not sure what the kids these days would use to describe my last post. "Lame" seems apt. But you'd have to ask someone more "down" with the slang.

At any rate, in an effort to redeem myself (and in an even bigger effort to put off getting to work), I'm going to post the third in my compelling series: "Things I like about CO." Today's feature? "Dates with Jill." Of course, I could have dates with Jill anywhere we lived, but never mind that. As you can tell, we have some wild and crazy fun out here. I mean, a Friday night at the greenhouse? Outrageous.

The one* picture that's missing that has become a new thing for us is playing cribbage on the front porch in the cool of the evening. Has anyone noticed that the first person to deal always wins? Or is that just us?



*Oh, and our all too regular "Netflix" dates. And nights reading (Jill's plowing through the "Mitford" series now). Anyone have any good recommendations for books/movies?