Starting to Look Suspiciously like Almost-Spring

We have been getting little bits of snow every night that melt off in the daytime as the temperatures rise above freezing.  A couple of days ago, I took the chance that new snow cover would cancel out the ice on the trails at Lone Pine, so I grabbed my ice-walkers (just in case), my poles and hit the trail.

I was right.  There was 1 to 2 inches of fresh snow - just enough for my ice-walkers to grip and keep me upright.  I helped myself along with poles too, and felt confident enough to try the Cliff Trail - one of the steeper ways up to the top.  It was beautiful and the trail had had much less traffic, thus making it snow-packed but not slick.  The trail before me was soft and lovely and beckoned me upwards toward the top.  Below the snow, where the feet of other hikers had pushed aside the meager covering, I could see hard, black ice everywhere and I knew that once this freshest snow melted, the trails would be treacherous once more.  But for now, the walk was quiet and easy - except for that darn uphill part that made me huff and puff with exertion. 

I could see that some new foot traffic was beginning to pack the snow, so I turned off onto a side trail and was delighted to see that I was the first hiker of the day.  I thought I might see some deer, but they must have been hiding.  As I glanced around, I was astonished to see how bare the slopes were.  We have had a very dry winter and I despair for the summer when this trail will be thick with dust instead of snow. 

Another hiker and his dog finally met me just as I was beginning to see the mountains to the East.  It looked to be snowing toward Columbia Mountain and into Glacier Park.  At least if we get plenty of snow in the mountains, the fire danger will be less, even if it's dry as dust down here in the valley.

For now, however, I'll just hope that either warm weather comes soon, or the small snows continue to fall on the icy trails to help me out in my quest for exercise and enjoyment of the woods.  Each day is an adventure and I can't wait to see what lies in store.

As I write this post, the sun is shining brightly.  That's deceptive, however, because fifteen minutes ago, snow and rain were blowing furiously from the west.  I think I'll wait until we've had good weather for a solid hour, or I'll wait until tomorrow to see what it brings before I take my chances outdoors.

Where's the snow? Not in Herron Park.

The middle of February and hardly any snow.  Last year at this time Herron Park had a lot of snow to enjoy.  We snowshoed quite a bit, people cross-country skied and sledded on the great sledding hill there.

 A few hours ago, I went to Herron Park with my son, Eli, hoping that the trail wasn't as icy as the ones on Lone Pine.  Reports from Eli and my snowshoeing friend, Marylane, told me that the trails on Lone Pine were quite treacherous, very icy and packed down, making for some beyond-icewalker hiking.  No thanks.  I have been either going to the gym or walking downtown to get some exercise.  Today, however, the sun was shining and the temperature was hovering around freezing, so off we went.

From a distance you could tell that, although there was some snow, there wasn't nearly enough to ski or snowshoe. 

There were a lot of bare spots poking through the thin covering of snow and the hills didn't have that wintery look that I hoped it would have.  We set off on the icy trail, trying to avoid the parts that resembled skating rinks.  We met a walker with two standard poodles who didn't mind that there wasn't much snow.  They were just happy to be outside on a walk.  That's the way I began to feel, too.  The day was bright and lovely, I felt recovered from a bout of back pain from the previous week and my knees felt almost normal.  It's hell getting old.

We took the main trail/road up the side of the hill.  Eli never did put on his ice-walkers although I did at the parking lot.  I also had my poles - just in case I hit a slippery spot.  I hadn't done any uphill walking in a few weeks, so I took it easy and went slowly.  Eli was ahead of me the whole way, but that's nothing new.  He is young and strong and has a longer stride.  Ah, youth.

Pretty soon, I got hot and sweaty and stopped for a rest and a photo.  The hills around the park were pretty bare, but still a beautiful sight.  Just being outside in the fresh, cold air made me feel better than I had in a while.

In the distance, I could just make out the Swan range looking blue and snowy.  I found myself saying "Now, if I come up here and do this walk two or three times a week, I'll be in pretty good shape for Lone Pine when the ice is gone."  That is a great thought.  Maybe I'll actually try it.  I don't mind walking alone in Lone Pine - familiarity breeds courage.  I think I'd be alright in Herron Park alone, but somehow it seems better to have a companion in a bigger, farther away place.  I should just suck it up and stop being a baby.  Or beg my son to come with me.  Yeah, begging might work.

Anyway, I had a wonderful walk.  Peaceful, pretty and a good workout for an hour's work only a few miles from home.  There really isn't a good reason why I can't come up here more often.  After all, it's only the middle of February.  Spring is a long way off.

Snow, beautiful snow!

We have finally received a few inches of snow and it feels like winter.  Of course, it always feels like winter when the temperature hovers around 20 degrees, but at least with snow there is the hope of snowshoeing.  I have a little group of friends who snowshoe with me, but to my horror, they were all busy on Snowshoe Monday!  My friends couldn't come out to play and I was sad.

 However, like the trouper I am, I stayed in my jammies an hour longer until it warmed up to 29 degrees, strapped on my icewalkers and headed to Lone Pine.  I know I should have snowshoed anyway, but Lone Pine is closer to my house and, after all, we didn't get THAT much snow.  The trail up to the top of Lone Pine was snow-packed and icy, so I was glad to have my trusty YakTrax and my poles to keep me upright. 
 
 It was a beautiful day, cold and crisp and the walking warmed me.  I climbed up the Cliff Trail and paused when a bunny dashed across the trail in front of me.  Bunnies aren't bred for brains, so this one stopped under a big rock, believing himself to be invisible.  I fumbled in my pocket for my camera, turned it on and found the bunny - still frozen and 'invisible' to me.  Poor bunny.  There's a reason that they are incredibly fertile.

He was cute and as soon as I rearranged my camera into my pocket, grabbed my poles and continued on my way up the trail, he hopped away through the snow.

 The trail led me up to a vantage point below the overlook, but I am always fascinated with the geology of a place, so I looked up at the rocks looming overhead.  At one time in Lone Pine's history, the overlook was used as a dumping-off place for old cars, dead refrigerators and bald tires.  There are still a few traces of rusted bits of castoff machinery below the overlook, left there by the Fish, Wildlife and Parks Department because it's too hard to remove.  Now we have a lovely trail system where there was once only the novel pastime of seeing how far an old tire could bounce on the rocks far below the drop-off point.

As I looked up at the rocks, I began to feel the cold, so I pushed on up the trail looking forward to being at the upper vantage point.  There is a place on the trail where a hiker must climb up and over some sizable rocks.  This always means to me that I'm past the steepest part of the trail and the end is in sight.  I like climbing on the rocks.  Somehow, they seem friendly and not so steep as the switchbacks that lay just behind me.  The sun was shining and I thought I'd stop and take another photo.

My next stop was at the overlook itself where I admired my little town, the mountains and the view of Glacier National Park in the clouded dip beside Columbia Mountain.  The mountains in winter are beautiful and I longed to be in the park, no matter what the weather.  Perhaps a snowshoeing road trip is a good idea.  Then my working friends could join us on a weekend.

I always like going downhill much more than going uphill, so I started on the downward path toward the bottom of the hill and my waiting car.  I didn't see any deer this time, so my little bunny was my only companion on my hike.  I can't wait for more snow so I can snowshoe up the trail. 

 Today, we woke up to rain.  RAIN.  It'll be icy on Lone Pine this afternoon, but I might make the attempt anyway and dream of more snow later in the winter.

STATE OF WONDER by Ann Patchett

I just finished another great book by Ann Patchett.  This time she returned to South America where BEL CANTO was set, but we were taken to the Amazonian jungle, down sinuous rivers choked with trees on both sides and filled with terrifying predators, insects and cannibals.

The main character was Dr. Marina Singh, a pharmacologist who came to that field after leaving a promising surgical obstetrics residency after a tragic accident in which she blinded a newborn during a C-section.  She worked for a large pharmaceuticals company, Vogel, in her home state of Minnesota.
Marina seemed apart from everything from the beginning.  She is a the daughter of a blond Minnesota mother and a professor from Calcutta, India.  She works with Dr. Anders Eckman in statins and is having a secret affair with the CEO of Vogel, Mr. Fox, who never shows her any affection, or even recognition in public.  Marina is coerced into a trip to the Brazillian laboratory after word comes that Anders has died of a fever on a trip to Brazil to judge the work of Dr. Swenson, brilliant but elusive head of the drug development lab in the jungle.  That Dr. Swenson was once Marina's teacher and mentor during her disgrace in surgery adds an element of suspense and tension to Marina's life.
This novel is Marina's journey from the comfortable, mundane life in Minnesota to the steamy, unknown life in the jungle.  The nearer she gets to the answers that she seeks, the more she is stripped bare of her former life.  And, as her former self falls away, her true character shines forth with her innate humanity and courage.

Meeting her nemesis and former mentor changes how Marina thinks about herself and her abilities to be a doctor.  She begins a journey of discovery about her priorities and her loves, and in the process, she finds a vein of iron in her personality that allows her to save one friend while sacrificing another.

The end of the book leaves the reader with a lot of questions.  I want to know where Marina goes from here, having been altered beyond imagination by her experiences in the jungle with the Lakashi tribe and their miraculous trees, moths and mushrooms that can both extend a hand to fertility and condemn a woman to a lifetime of childbearing.  Dr. Swenson was the tragic result of wanting too much and having too little to give.

I would recommend this book overwhelmingly to anyone who loves a good story and a puzzle to consider long after the last page has been turned.

String Theory for the Middle Ages

I'm becoming more and more convinced that as women age, they fall under two theories of body changes - the String theory and the Dough theory.  Some women become thin and stringy, appearing to lose mass to the point that their muscles and tendons show prominently through their skin.  At first, it's a good look - one of strength and sinewy grace.  Grace soon gives way to grotesque and you look at them and think about wasting diseases.

The other theory is just as unkind.  What were once well-defined muscles become, well, doughy.  This dough has the properties of bread dough - floppy, stretchy and pale.  One looks in the mirror and wonders at what temperature those doughy blobs would firm up again to resemble firm contours of health.  Maybe that's why so many seniors go to Arizona and Florida.  They harbor a secret hope that the heat will improve their dough.

NanoWrimo goal achieved!

I last made a post just before the National Novel Writing Month of November kicked off.  I guess I can only write one thing at a time.  I did meet my NanoWrimo goal of 50,000 words.  YAY!  It was more difficult than last year because I overextended and agreed to work for 5 days, thus missing my goals for those days - 10,000 words. Gulp.  I managed to make them up and squeaked by at the last minute. 

My novel this year was a quieter one.  Last year, I found myself embroiled in an epic.  It grew larger and larger, kind of like a piece of tofu that I tried once.  I spit out the tofu but the novel lives on, still growing larger and calving into two future novels.  While that is exciting, I decided to experiment with a quieter novel this time.  A contemporary novel with one main character who has life problems to face.  I found it to be less exciting than sending a young man to war, or killing off several people during the influenza epidemic of 1918, but with a quiet novel, it's easier to go deeper into the character and really get to know her in depth.

I attended a class associated with the NanoWrimo month and, together with my classmates, we discussed the problems of writing a novel.  It was fun to hear how other people handled the flow and creative life of a longterm writing project.  My instructor, Kathy, advised us to put the novel away once we had our rough first draft and let it 'percolate' in our minds.  So right now I'm letting my quiet novel percolate while I've started another rough draft of a book that has been in the back of my mind for several years. 

Ideally, this is the start of a continuum of writing and percolating, editing and percolating, writing and percolating.  The object is to continue a process, a neverending yet everchanging process.  I like the sound of that.