Sunday, November 22, 2009

What the hell am I up to? That's a good question

Ya know, sometimes I forget that I even have this blog out there. Can you believe it's 12:30 in the morning and I have been on the internet since about 7 pm researching gear. Yup, tents mostly, for this upcoming hike of the Pacific Crest Trail. Somedays I wonder if I'm crazy. What am I signing up for. Can my feet do another 5 month hike? (I started to type 6, but then remembered that I have to finish this thing in about 5 months. It's close to 500 miles longer than the AT and that took me nearly 7 months if I deduct the 2 weeks off trail for Avery's wedding...so 500 miles longer and almost 2 months less that I have to do it given the weather window. That makes for some long hiking days, my friend.) Better question might be, can my knee? There are days it hurts walking. But back to late night and gear searching. I angst over gear. Did it before the AT too. But I think it paid off. I was pretty happy with my choices. The only thing I traded out was the hammock for the SMD Lunar tent. And I loved my tent. So why am I tent shopping? Good question! Because I'm afraid this tent may be too hard to pitch on that rocky trail. It must be staked all around or it falls down. So I've been looking at free-standing tents: Big Sky Mirage and Evolution 1P, and Henry Shires Rainbow Tarptent.

And I need a warmer sleeping bag: WM Ultralite, FF Egret, or Montbell UL SS #2. How cold does it get out there? Too light a bag and I'll be chilly like my current bag is, but too warm and I'll be having night sweats all the time. See how much fun it is to be me?

And then there's the pack question. Mine needs some repairs: buckles are warn and sliding, pockets have been chewed by mice, it looks really baggy and big and messy. Can I get something smaller? There were times mine was filled to the brim, like the 100 mile wilderness in Maine. Can I really reduce my volume and weight? What will I be doing differently? Not leaving my pillow home, that's for sure! I think I should get it repaired either way. It's a good pack: ULA Catalyst.

How cold does it get? I ask again. Do I need warmer clothes? Will my down sweater and fleece be sufficient to keep me warm? So many questions. Am I over analyzing? What about water filtering. I liked my gravity filter, but it's heavier than doing drops. But don't drops spoil the wonderful taste of the wild water? I don't want to do that.

So can you see that I'm just all over the place with crazy thoughts trying to figure out this hike and what needs to change, what can stay the same, what do I need to do to be successful, does it matter if I finish?

Ok, I'm tired. And I'm rambling.

I must say I do love the fact that I have some friends that want to hike with me! Yippeee! One's on board: Bonnie Carolyn, a woman from Florida that I've never met but who hiked the AT the same year I did...and Bluebearee, the ridge runner from Abol Bridge, Maine that I met when I got there...she's still undecided, but I have my fingers crossed she'll come. What ever happens, it will be the best PCT thru-hike EVER! New friends, new views, new experiences, new challenges. AIN'T LIFE FABULOUS?????

So that's what's on my mind these days while I'm running between my house and Shalom Mountain 4 hours away every couple of weeks. There's things I love about both places so I'm dividing myself. Long weekends home then back to the mountain for a couple of weeks. It sorta works and keeps me occupied for now. And helps me to spend time with all the new friends in my life and keep up with the old ones too.

Step Lightly,

Nightie Nite!

Bag Lady

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Summit Anniversary #2!!!!!

I decided that the acknowledgement of my 2nd Summit Anniversary needed it's own post. That's a day I won't easily forget. It was a Wednesday. I had gotten to Katahdin Steam Campground the Friday before and would normally have summited on Saturday with my "croo" but because my partner, Dennis, and my daughter, Dana, were coming up to summit with me, I decided to meet them in town on Friday night, hang low on Saturday, camp out at the campground Saturday night, and summit on Sunday. Good plan. Didn't happen. It rained Saturday night in the lowlands and snowed and iced on Katahdin. Class IV. Mountain closed.

Monday, still Class IV, can't climb. And now the campground is closing and we have to move to Millinocket, the closest town. Get a room at the motel.



Tuesday, Mtn closed. It was a beautiful sunny warm day so we go for a hike. By now the town is filling up with hikers. More coming in every day. All waiting to summit. Some I knew, most I didn't...because they were behind me. They knew of me. Had read my entries in the shelter registers. We start hassling the rangers that we need to finish. There's been no place else on the whole trail that they've said whether or not we could hike it, why here? We're going on Wednesday whether they officially open the mountain or not. By this time, 25 hikers have collected and are chomping at the bit. We ready! We've hiked 2,170 miles to get here and we want to finish.

Wednesday dawns...no that's right, we're up before dawn. We have to get to the gate to Baxter State Park by 6 a.m. so that we can get into the park. They only
let a limited number of cars in and we don't want to be shut out. Nutella, Sir Privy Winks, and Luna are getting a ride out with us. These are hikers I met during my hike and I'm excited to be summiting with them. Bluebearee, a ridge runner, and the ranger are there at the campground to
greet us. And off we go!

The first mile or so are a slow climb in the woods, past a waterfall, over some boulders. Then the boulders become more prominent and larger. And larger! And pretty soon we're having to really scramble our way up, sometimes grabbing metal bars in the rock to hoist ourselves up...and
up...and up.
All along a rocky ridge line. And then we hit the tableland which flattens out. The ice is covering most everything. It's beautiful! It's winter again. I started in the winter in Georgia and I'm finishing in the winter in Maine.

INCREDIBLE!

And up and up and up. A hard climb for Dana and Dennis, as I can only imagine. (I had had 7 months of conditioning.) And then I see the "sign". The thing I walked 2,175 miles to touch. Dana was hiking in front of me. Dennis was behind trying to video and hike...(not an easy thing to do). And Dana stepped aside and said, "The moment is yours, Bag Lady!"

And on I pushed, up and up.

And then I was there!

At that old, faded maroon saw-horse shaped sign that has printed in washed-out white letters, " Katahdin, Northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail, a mountain footpath extending from Georgia to Maine."

And the emotions are unlike anything I've ever known. Intense happiness, joy, tears, sobbing, disbelief, wonderment, undefined.

I did it! I said I would!



Step Lightly,

Bag Lady

What am I up to?


What am I up to? Are you ever going to keep up your blog? Ok! Ok! I get the message. Somebody is really reading this and cares to know what I'm doing. Where do I begin? Guess I should go back and see where I left off...................

Ah, yes, just home from the AT adventure. I remember. Well, I went to the Work Weekend at Shalom Mountain over Labor Day and had a blast. Like a family reunion! And since my family doesn't have reunions, this was quite a treat! I love having lots of people around and Shalomers are the best: people who love to hug and listen and care. And while I was t
here, it became evident to me what the next thing I had to do was: volunteer...at the Mountain...and live there for a few months. Can I do this? Just up and move here? They need me. The office assistant was leaving the end of September and the person who was going to pick up the responsibilities was sick, and I have the smarts and the skills and the time and the desire, so what the hey. Ok. I'll come. Besides, it will be a chance to experience living in an intentional community, something that I've wanted to try. And I love this place. And I love the people. So I told them I'd go home and pack and be back in a week.

But I have appts back home. Ailments. Old age? I don't know. Ever since June I've had this ache in my shoulder, chest, and neck. Started out slight, changing, moving, glowing kind of pain. Had it massaged at Shalom and again when I got home. Nothing. Forget about it. Nope...not going away. Better see my man, Brett...the Muscle Maintenance guru. He can fix anything. And that's who my appt was with. So I moved to Shalom September 14th and drove back to Rochester for one night the following week.

And I also have plans to fly to San Diego to visit my # 1 daughter and her hubby, and attend the sister-in-law's wedding. That was the the first 2 weeks of October. Can we work around appts and trips? I'll just learn the workings of the office in September, then take off for 3 weeks in October. Am I crazy? Well, yes I am, but what's that got to do with anything?

So that's what I did: moved to Shalom Sept 14, home for a quick visit Sept 22, home again Sept 29, flew to SD Oct 1, flew home Oct 13...and I'm heading back to Shalom next Monday the 19th. Whew...even I'm exhausting myself!!!

And add to all that, I've had a boarder staying at my house for the last month. A young guy from Shalom, Govinda, moved in while he was investigating living in Rochester. I loved having him here taking care of the place (and what a fine job he did!), but he's decided to move back home and leaves today. Sob...sob...I'll miss him.

Also a dear friend from Florida, Kim, up visiting her daughter, stayed here. It's getting to be like a hostel. She arrived before I got home from SD and is leaving after I go back to Shalom. I love all the activity here. Maybe I can open as a hostel for people passing through Rochester. But I guess I need to be home more to do that.
So back to Shalom for a couple of months, although I do have some weekends planned to be back here. Can't stay away forever, I miss the place. And besides, now with Govinda going I don't really have anyone to collect the mail and water the plants. I've over used my friends, I think, so I'll just see if they (the plants) can go for a stretch until I can get back here. It will be cold so they shouldn't dry out as much, right?

Step Lightly,
Bag Lady

p.s. the pigs are at Shalom...one is ours but we call them all Kevin...

Monday, August 31, 2009

What Now

I'm home from my 3 weeks on the Appalachian Trail. I found it impossible to keep up my blog from the trail because of poor service. Ya know, I got this darn iPhone so I could keep up my blog, check emails, use the GPS instead of carrying maps. But the thing works best from my kitchen! I don't need those services there. I can use my beautiful MacBook Pro there. I need it when I'm traveling. But AT&T coverage is terribly lacking, even in well populated areas like Massachusetts. Go figure! So I try my best.

Coming home is always an adjustment. I cry when I pull in the driveway. It's lonely at home. Nobody there. I have great friends, both here and out there. But that doesn't stop the loneliness of living alone. The contradiction to this loneliness is the freedom that I do enjoy. I'm free to do anything I want, any time I want. Who wouldn't want that? But couldn't I have that and a partner too?

Speaking of partners, I tried dating last week. OMG! Do I have to go through this once again? I've been dating for 30 years, seems like. You'd think I have it down. I just hate the getting to know you stage while you're trying to figure out if someone is just extremely interesting (that would be a good thing) or WEIRD (that would be a bad thing). It's a fine line. Kinda like hiker or homeless. But I found that when it comes to WEIRD, I have to listen to my gut...and my gut said WEIRD, so I canceled the 2nd date we had scheduled. I did it in a very nice, polite email. And you know what he wrote back? WHATEVER Now that tells me I got it right. He was WEIRD.

So I stay busy. Never been a problem for me. I can waste time better than anyone I know. I'm never bored, but neither am I productive. I'm just busy. Let's see, what have I done today? (Have I mentioned I have no memory?) I managed to sleep until 10 am. That's a good way to shorten the day. Just keep going back to sleep. It's quite fun. Then, I checked my Have-A-Heart trap and yes, I caught a woodchuck. Ok, so I moved him out of the neighborhood. Then I made coffee and breakfast (fruit, yogurt, raw oatmeal...my fav). Since then I've puttered: online, checking apts in St. Augustine (I'll tell ya later.), reading Facebook, made a To Do list, went upstairs to start filing months worth of STUFF, found a map of St. Augustine and mailed it to older daughter (cause she and hubby are going there this fall), got mail, saw unusual charge on phone bill, called and complained (it was some sort of scam where someone saying they were me signed up for 247MP3.com membership using my phone number - I was on the AT when this occurred and not near a phone - CHECK YOUR BILLS!); then I set up autopay for a credit card (steps req'd to life on the road - all bills paid automatically), then I went back to filing - after snacking, of course, and then I remembered I wanted to update my blog. So here I am!

While I was filing, I came across some notes I had written over a year ago while dealing with the breakup with Dennis and trying to figure out my life. I thought I'd write them here:

What am I free to do now?

Start now and make a brand new ending.

Just see the next step - not the whole path.

The gift of dead ends is that there is nowhere else to go but somewhere else.

The blessing of not having a map is that you are forced to go places you would not go if your path were predetermined and well-marked.

You still have your passion!

No matter what the outcome of our connections with another person, when love enters our life, it never leaves without transforming us to the very depth of our being. We may lose the relationship, but we never lose the love.

Look for the daffodil - something is always blooming in cold, dark times.

Find ways to share your love, your caring, and your wisdom. Someone needs what you know.

There is nowhere to go but more deeply in to the here and now.

So out of the pain of that time, I found some deep wisdom. Don't know what to do with all that but I thought it was pretty profound.

I'm still wandering around in the dark. I had thought about driving to San Diego this fall as I have a wedding to attend there the first weekend of October. But I felt unwilling to commit to that plan, so I left it open. I've decided not to drive out, but to fly. Think I'll rent a car out there and toodle around, not sure where yet. I have to wait for things to come to me. Sedona and Santa Fe are in the back of my mind.

Then there's St. Augustine. My daughter, Dana, is a professionally trained pastry chef who has helped Luli's Cupcakes develop a wedding cupcake line. But she's so talented and driven, that it's time she started her own business. And I think the time has come for me to move down there for the winter and help her get The Classic Cakery off the ground. What else have I got to do and we have such fun together! She's doing wedding cakes now but she needs a professional kitchen so she can advertise and really get this business going. So I'm looking to rent a small, but cute place there for the winter and play in the sun. See how plans drop into my lap. That's why I always stay flexible and uncommitted until the thing that really excites arrives.

And I'm still playing with the idea of biking Australia next year. Looking for a trike right now because they are soooooo comfortable! I'm tired of being in pain for 8 hours a day biking.

So that's some of What Now. Stay flexible. Don't commit.

Hugs to all, Bag Lady

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Back on the Appalachian Trail

Today I hiked from Salisbury CT to Sages Ravine Campsite. 8 miles and
it took 8 hours and 45 minutes. Can't
say we were speedy but we had a woman in her late 60's and on her
first backpacking trip with us, so that accounted for the speed. I'm
sure she'll get faster as she gets more comfortable with her pack
weight, the rocks, and hiking in general. We've got short days planned
whle she's on the trail and that's just fine with me!

I must say I've been reminiscing a lot today out here. It was almost
exactly two years ago that Thumper and I hiked through this same
section of trail. It feels great to be back out here! I remember
many sections quite well and it almost scares me. I may decide to stay
out here a week longer than planned...cause I can. (hope my plant and
mail sitter is okay with that! I think I need to get rid of the
plants and figure out something better for the mail. Maybe I should
gave the mail forwarded to someone and then just the first class stuff
would collect and the junk would die a timely death at the post office!)

I have to say that being out here reminds me how much I like being
disconnected. I like my money to move and bills to all get paid
automatically. And I pretty much have that all set up. It's the odd
item that arrives in the mail and needs someone's attention. I haven't
figured out how to handle that. Dennis (my ex partner) took care of
all these things for me when I did the AT. Maybe he'd be up to the
task again if I decide to bike Australia next winter. (I'm pondering
it!)

But for now I'm tucked in my tent enjoying the woods again and the
feeling of fatigue after a good day of hard hiking!

Step Lightly, The Bag Lady

Sent from my iPhone

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Learning to Blog is time consuming...and the rest of RAGBRAI


Well, I've now lost the whole post that I spent 2 days writing. All because I was trying to delete a photo and the page wasn't user-friendly. "Delete It" didn't mean the photo I checked, but the whole posting. Go figure!


All that after I found out that the blogs I sent from the road on my iPhone with pics, only the pics posted, not the text. Luckily I still had the email and could cut and paste the text in. The learning curve is killing me!!!

So now I’m writing the blog in Pages so that if I lose it again, I won’t have

to start all over. See, I get smarter every day!



Back to RAGBRAI. Zip, zip, zip....I can still hear the sound of bikes zipping past. Bikes were everywhere! And they were always zipping by, whether I was standing still or pedaling. Well, on occasion I did pass a few, but usually only on hills. I got to using Tim’s method of gearing up on the downhill, build momentum, no coasting, then keeping the gearing engaged, pedal hard up the other side. That worked well for me on the rolling hills, but if the hill was long, I’d lose momentum getting down onto my Granny gear and then all was lost. And let me tell you, there were a lot of hills in Iowa. The southern part was a roller coaster. It was definitely noticeable when the road stayed flat for 1/4 to 1/2 mile because it was so rare. Most of the time we were either going up or down.


Imagine 10,000 to 15,000 bikes rolling in

to any small town on any day. That’s what we did 5-8 times a day for 7 days. And each town was a county fair of sorts. Music, food, stuff for sale, and bikes! Lots of bikes. Laying down, leaning against each other, propped against every wall, tree, post, truck or anything else that would hold up a bike.




And the costumes were so creative. Chiquita banana and dancers. Guy in a different colored speedo each day. Flamigos. Cowboys on stick horses. And on and on. Every day I saw something I hadn’t seen before. And I loved the creativity.


People of all ages do RAGBRAI. There were children under 3 being pulled in trailers, as young as 4 pedaling on the backs of bikes, age 8 riding their own bikes... Then there were women and men in their 70's and 80's doing this ride too! They are all my role models. I can't imagine having the strength at that age.


And the bikes: trikes, tandems, triples (a mom and 2 boys about 10 yrs old!), unicycles, roller blades, running, and I'm sure I've forgotten some. Oh yea, the one with a sail!


Lines, standing in lines. If there was a line, I was probably supposed to be in it. Lines for the KYBOs (porta potties...Keep Your Bowels Open...must be a RAGBRAI thing), lines for food, lines for showers, lines just to get through a town. Patience is a requirement...hurrying is an impossibility. And often, after much advertisement about a special food item at the next town, they would have sold out of it. No Whoopie for me. No ice cream for me. No Subway for me. But there ususally was something else further down the road.


Food. County fair food. There’s no vegetables, except corn, in Iowa. But there is meat, mostly pork. I’ve never eaten so much meat in my life. I don’t know what a vegetarian would do on this ride. I don’t think it’s possible unless you brought your own food. Maybe you could find a grocery store in the overnight towns, but I wouldn’t count on it. And there were lots of fruit pies, everywhere. So pie for breakfast, BBQ pork something for lunch, smoothie in the afternoon and then I was lucky if I got dinner. One night it was a Power Bar I had in my bike bag.



I traveled with a charter group, so that I had a neighborhood amongst the 10,000 cyclists. That was a smart move.

I met people on the bus ride across the state from Burlington (the end town where I left my car) to Council Bluffs. Jim, Jay, and Kaitlin was a dad and his 20 something kids. Melissa, a sports writer for AP from NY. Janel and Ann, women from Illinois. Glen, Bill, and Tim, three Jamokes from Chicago. They were the funniest guys, always good for a laugh. And they took good care of me. Helping with my bags, getting my stuff out of the rain when I came in hours later than they did, hanging with me at the musical entertainment at night. Thanks guys, you made my RAGBRAI!


Well, I’ve done it, but I’d never do it again. It was exhausting. Long days in the saddle. Blisters where one shouldn’t have blisters! Too much stimulation. Too many people. Too much frustration. I lov

ed all the people - they were warm and friendly - both on the ride and in the towns. Iowa is a beautiful state. Looks a lot like NY. And the creativity. The cyclists costumes, the town’s decorations! We were warmly welcomed, that’s for sure!



So I can check RAGBRAI off my Bucket List.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Two days at RAGBRAI

53 miles day one. 73 miles day two. An undulating ribbon of riders snake down the roads as far as you can see in either direction.


10,000 people on bikes
2 guys on unicycles
1 guy on rollerblades
1 gal running the miles every day

And the fashion is like nothing else. Guys in tutu skirts. People dressed like bananas, flamingos, and super heros. A guy in a speedo with money tucked in it. A girl dressed like a Chiquito banana dancer. Guys in cowboy hays with stick ponies attached to their bikes. Whenever you think there's nothing new to see, look up. A biker fashion you missed will be biking by.

I've eaten pulled pork nachos, inch and half thick porkchop, hamburgers, breakfast burritos, cinnamon bund, and many slices of pie. But tonight for dinner I had a Power Bar. There are so many people everything sells out early

And you wait I'm line for food, showers, porta johns.

And then there's the danger of riding on the road with bikers of varying skills and speeds. Usually the whole road is closed to autos and we fill it but you have stay in your narrow 4 inch alottment. And signal with your voice and hands if you're going to shift over. If you're going to stop, don't stop on the road. Pull off the road saying "biker off". And get on saying "biker on" and waiting for a space in bumper to bumper bikes. It's quite stressful. I was taken down by a little old lady yesterday who was going the wrong way on the left shoulder. No injuries though.

I'm tired after not getting much sleep last night. We were camped next to the fairgrounds and they had loud and louder bands playing til well past midnight. Then they flew a copter overhead to wake us and get us out of town this morning

Tonight my tent is set up on a swine barn at the fairgrounds in Greenfield. I need the tent to change clothes. But at least it will stay dry.
Sleep now so breakfast comes sooner. I'm pretty hungry!

I think I'm having fun. Don't think I'd do this ride more than once, though.

Tomorrow's another long day of over 70 miles. Sure hope the swelling in my
knee goes down or I'm gonna be a hurtin' lassie tomorrow.

Zzzzzzz

Thursday, July 16, 2009

The road to RAGBRAI

I can't believe I'm on the road... again. This travel big must be in my blood. I feel quite happy when I leave home. I feel lighter, less encumbered. I feel strong, In my power. I feel more at home away from home... go figure.


Got out of town around noon, as planned. Then, around Erie PA I began to think about the fact I hadn't checked the oil. Dennis always did that. And I still forget to pick up the slack. I quickly look up high on the windshield to see how overdue an oil change is...only 6,000 miles overdue! Guess I'd better get that done. And sooner rather than later. Good ole iPhone. Let's google "oil change" and it finds the nearest place. Quick call. Yup, they can take me right away.

Got that done. And back on the road.

Why does driving always make me want to eat? I munched and munched my way to Indianapolis tonight. Sleeping in my truck at a rest area where the lights are too bright and the highway too noisy, but beggars can't be choosey.

Nighty night!

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Loneliness



Loneliness is a strange and unfamiliar emotion that I've been having for the last year. When Dennis moved out last March, for the first time in my entire life I began living alone. Truly alone. Before that I lived with my parents; then roommates; then husband; then husband and oldest daughter, Avery; then only Avery; then Avery and Dana, my second daughter; then only Dana; then Dana and Dennis; then only Dennis. Then just me. JUST ME! I get tired of being only with me, only with just my thoughts. As good as they are, and I like myself and my zaniness quite a bit, they do get old and limiting after a while. I reach the same dead ends day in and day out when there isn't someone around to throw other possible conclusions or options in my thought pathway to head me down a different direction. And without work to distract me, it makes for some long days.

So what's a typical day like for me, you ask. I try to sleep as late as possible to shorten the day. Sleeping mask goes on when I awake around 7 a.m. (my usual wake up time) and I manage to go back to sleep until about 8:30. Then I may read a bit til 9 or so. Up, on goes the coffee, check emails and Facebook, and wander about the house. Perhaps outside. And wander. I wander about, puttering most of my day. I spend a lot of time on the computer, googling this and googling that. And I munch. Wander and munch. I must munch more than I wander because I can't seem to drop 5 pounds. I used to go to CrossFit 3 mornings a week and I loved it. But it didn't love me. It caused too much bodily injury I'm afraid. So, for now, that's on hold. My days fill up but I can't tell you what I've gotten done. I putter in the garden, I putter in closets and cupboards trying to clean stuff out, I putter in the basement. But when I look back at the end of the day, I can't figure out what I've accomplished. Accomplishments. Deliverables. I'm trying to let go of those concepts. I don't have to get anything done by the end of the day. And I seem to have grappled that, because I often don't.

Most days I spend alone and most days I don't leave the house. I might go for a bike ride or a paddle on the canal. But not often. I might walk to town, but not often. I might go to the library for movies. I don't watch TV or movies during the day. I do sun quite a bit. Feels good. Warms my soul.

But I'm lonely.

I have a dear friend and playmate that lives here in the village. And since she's unemployed right now, we often have coffee together in the morning or dinner together at night. She's my connection, my anchor. I need that. Without it, her, I'd feel like a dinghy floating in the ocean. I have no direction. No purpose. Don't know which way to paddle to find shore. Well, I guess, even with her I feel like that dinghy. Just when she's around I feel less lost. I can tell her all the crazy feelings I'm having and she lets me have them. She's patient and listens to my rantings and ravings over and over again. What would I do without her?

But when she's not around, she's got a life too, then I'm usually lonely and empty.

But this only seems to happen when I'm home. When I'm on the road, I'm happy, I'm powerful, and I'm in love with life! Home is the place I least like being.

And I'm lonely even in a crowd. Last night I walked up to our Tuesday night's antique car show. People all around, but I'm not connected to any of them. I have nothing to say to them, so I don't. Nothing happens that causes a connection to occur. So I walked around, alone, and then I walked home. Then I drove to the lake, alone. Sat in the car, alone. Watched the sailboats, alone. Then drove home, alone.

But what's really strange about this loneliness, is that when I'm with people it's gone for that time, but returns when I return to my house, alone. And it's not constant. Some days are lonelier than others.

I really appreciate what Pearl must have gone through. She lived to be 106 1/2 and she was lonely. Her husband died 40 years earlier. That's a long time of loneliness.

What a crazy society this is where our elders live alone and not with their families. When the time comes, my daughter Dana better take me in. I promise to listen to her needs and be as accommodating and easy to live with as possible. Just to not live alone in my senior years, I will do anything.

But what's the solution for today? More travel this year. Keep reaching out to friends. Keep building other relationships. Keep looking for Mr. Right. Explore Intentional Communities as a possible way of living within a community of like-minded people. And stay aware: aware of the loneliness, aware of the cause, aware of the solutions. Maintain consciousness. And all I have to do is just be.

Monday, June 29, 2009

Home from Shalom Mountain

This past week I attended a Sexuality and Spirituality retreat at Shalom Mountain, a place of emotional and spiritual healing in the Catskill Mountains of NY. (Please google it and check it out.) Now, I hadn't selected this retreat to attend. It selected me. I was planning on attending the Women's Festival there the weekend before (a decision I made spontaneously while biking to CrossFit one morning of the week before). Then on the day I was to leave, I got a call from the Shalom inviting me to attend because they needed more women for this retreat and offering it to me at a reduced rate. One quick call to my sister-in-law (a long time Shalomer) and she convinced me I would benefit from this work. So, not one to pass up the opportunity for an experience or an adventure, I said yes. Not know what I was getting into!

During the Women's Festival, I kept hearing "the best retreat on the mountain" over and over again, from women. So I was beginning to get anticipatory. Now I'm not going to go in to details about this retreat, surprise is part of the experience I believe, but I do want to say that all the right people were there to bring to me awareness of a sexual trauma issue that I thought had no longer ramifications. I became aware that when I was molested as a young girl by my gramma's brother and told her of it, she told me to just stay close to her. Nothing more was said about it in my presence and my parents were never informed of the incident. I discovered this weekend that that incident formulated a pattern I've exhibited the rest of my life: silence when threatened by anyone (sexual or otherwise), hiding behind my grandmother's skirt for fear of being injured. Hide. Run away. Do not confront. Do not say No. Do not address the issue.

This weekend I painfully addressed an injurer with the support of my sisters and the understanding of my brothers, and my family group standing at my back. Big step. Growth is very painful. But the initial outcome of speaking my truth and not wanting or allowing the injurer to speak was a division of the group, a disconnect that I was unwilling and unable to mend. "Jagged edges" one attending called it. I had used all my strength and all my voice in speaking up. I had nothing left to protect myself from his words. There was nothing he could say that would make what he did okay for me. NOTHING. And I didn't want to honor him with allowing him the honor of speaking to me. As emotions in the group rose, I wanted to run and hide. What had my speaking up caused? Look at this pain on this group of people that I love. And yet, to take care of myself first, I had to stay strong in my belief that he not speak to me. To allow that would have been a co-dependent action on my part, another issue I wrestle with. The retreat leaders were even divided and in their own pain. But in the talent of Shalom, they were able to let us end the process right there and allow time and the universe to decide what needed to happen next in this process. Speaking one's truth is soooo scary and I won't always have the support that I had that night. But I intend never to be quiet again. If someone injures me, I will protect myself. I will say no, you cannot do that to me. And I will do it in my womanly power, not from the scared little girl.

Let me also say that the following morning I went from fear of this man to compassion which I was able to express only after knowing that the issue would not be dropped or swept under the rug, but picked up by a sister and processed off the mountain. I could put my sword and armor down and begin my healing because she was taking up my battle for me. Thank you, sister!

Growth, painful and necessary.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

From Clear Creek to North Rim - the rest of the hike

The ground out at Clear Creek was what I expected, not stake-friendly.  And my tent requires stakes, 6 of them to stand up.  But there were rocks aplenty.  So that was what I used.  Rocks and my bear line.  But since I don't want to cut my bear line, that requires me to go from point to point making ties that aren't cut.  Somehow it worked and my tent was standing...all night.  
The night out at Clear Creek wasn't without it's excitement.  I'm used to having to keep my food away from mice, chipmonks, groundhogs, and bears.  That's why we hang our food in the east.  When we checked in at the Back Country Office for the GC, they said ravens are the worst offender and hanging your food is like making an offering to them.  They will peck it clean. 
 They said the best thing to do was keep it in your tent with you.  You've got to be kidding!  Rule #1: Don't put your food in your tent.  Oh, well, the rangers know best.  NOT.  I was asleep when I heard scampering around my head.  Thinking it was outside my tent, I opened my eyes.  "Oh, god! A rat's in my tent!"  Well, it looked like a rat when it was inches from my eyes!  Yup, a mouse.  And he had a treat.  And he wanted out.  I opened the door and watched him try to find how he had gotten in.  It took a few moments and me moving away from the doorway before he scampered out with his treasure.  I checked the mesh and couldn't find any holes so he must have gotten in when I had the door strapped open to let in the cool evening breezes.  And then I must have zipped him in.  Okay, guys.  I'm not sleeping with my food.  The last time I had my pack in my tent was on the Appalachian Trail when a mouse woke me sitting on my lips.  That's not happening again.  Were hanging this food. Now I've forgotten what the ranger lady had said about ravens and can only think about getting my food hung from the mice.  Roger had brought picture wire just for this job.  Let's give it a try.  Worked like a charm, or at least looked like it would.  By morning we had our proof.  Our food was fine and I slept alone, thank goodness this time.

As usual, the guys were up before first light.  I always tried to stay in the sack a while longer because I knew I'd just be waiting for them now or later...and I love to stay in bed.  Once ready to move, we had to hike out of this canyon, and we knew it wasn't going to be an easy hike.  Loose shale, straight up.  Let's get it over with.  Not as bad as I thought.  One foot after the other.  Like most things in life, yes?  For whatever reason going back is always faster than coming out.  Perhaps it's because you recognize the landmarks.  And the timing was exactly the same as the on the way out.  I counted the "hollers" or mountain curves we had to go in and out of all the way back to where the other guys quit.  Fifteen of them, I think.  No wonder we were getting discouraged last night thinking this hike would never end.  

The canyon looks different when you hike it at different times of day and come at it from another direction.  We were now seeing it in morning light on the way back and saw many things that we hadn't seen before.  Different rock formations.  Different flowers.  Different canyons.  But the sight was always awe-inspiring.  

We got back to Bright Angel Campgroud by 1 pm I think and I stopped at the Phantom Ranch canteen for a lemonade with ICE in it!  What a treat.  Not much ice in the GC.  Took a photo of the thermometer as I passed by and it read 98 degrees.  I thought it was a bit warm!  The rest of our crew had gotten back at 8:30 am and picked a campsite...one much bigger than our first,  blessed be.  It was a jigsaw puzzle putting 6 tents on our first site here.  Now rest, and talk, and walk, and wander.  Lazy, easy afternoons after the hiking's done.  And napping. 


When we rejoined the other half of our group we found out that Bill's hipbelt buckle had broken and that Edge had improvised a way of keeping Bill and his pack together:  tie the buckle closed with a boot lace.  Of course, that required tying and untying Bill into and out of his pack every time he wanted to take it off...for a rest, for a pee, for whatever.  But since we had a few more days of our hike, what other option did we have?


 And that evening we went back to hear Ranger Matt talk about condors this time.  If anyone can make a nature talk interesting, it's this guy!  What a ham!  So we learned about the near extinction, removal, then reintroduction of the condors into the GC.  He even demonstrated the distinct, unrecognizable differences between an eagle and a condor soaring above....nothing:^)  I get my giggles watching everyone think they need lights to walk back to their abodes.  If they'd only turn them off, they'd find out they can see better by the light of the moon.  I had to wait until all the cyclops left the area so I could see unaffected by headlights.  What a peaceful night deep in the canyon, the walls reaching up high on either side of me.  I sat for a moment on a bench by the creek just soaking up the quiet, the spirituality, the ancient memories.  I wish I had language to capture the deep emotions I often feel.  And this is one of those moments.

Ranger nights we stay up later than usual, but the guys were up before dawn.  And off we headed to Cottonwood Campground, halfway up the North Rim at 6 am.  It's always about
 beating the heat in the canyon.  We only had temps in the 90's, mostly low 90's and that was about 15 degrees below normal.  How lucky was that?  Pretty darn lucky, I say!  This day's hike was wandering mostly along the Bright Angel Canyon as it winds its way north.  Often it seemed we should be coming the end of the canyon and around a bend and it kept going.  

 

The highlight of the day was getting to Ribbon Falls.  We chose hiking the trail instead of going over the bridge and it gave us a chance to do some creek wading.  The cool water was refreshing to our overheated bodies.  And then the falls!  What an unbelievable sight.  The water pours down from above and hits a large multi-story thumb shaped rock thats covered in moss.  The photo hardly does it justice.  
The creek that formed from the base rolled down over the rocks making a delightful bathtub in which to cool off.  Stay or go?  
The campsites get taken up quickly and we get left with too small a site for so many tents.  Better get going.  

Cottonwood campground is a wide spot on the trail.  There's a ranger's house there, but she's not around.  There's a 4 door outhouse and pumped in drinking water, and sites, mostly without shade.  Arrgghhh!  We find a small one with a tiny bit of shade at this early afternoon hour and we move the picnic table into the shade.  The site for 7 or more campers is open, but the ranger's not around to ask if we could take that.  So being the law-abiding citizens that we are, we don't.  Edge and I decide that this is a great place to sleep tentless, or cowboy camp.  I don't want to think about the scorpions I've been told scurry around at night...so I don't.  What a beautiful night sky with more stars than I think I've ever seen at once.  This is my favorite way to sleep.  Truly out under the stars.  


The hardest climb of the hike is going to be the last day.  It's going to take quite awhile to get up to the north rim.  Longer for some of us, so we decide to get as early a start as possible.  5 am.  We shot for it, but ended up breaking camp at 5:30 and many others were already on the trail.  Now we're climbing out of Bright Angel Canyon.  Up and up and up...all day.  And it's getting hotter and hotter.  Today for the first time, the clouds don't come rolling in later in the morning.  No reprieve.  We've broken up in to three groups and I'm in a group all by myself.  Which is okay with me.  I'm ready for solitude.  I put my iPod on and start grooving to my tunes.  But I get so emotional seeing these awesome views, hearing tearjerking music, and feeling tired but happy from the strenuous climbing...I start to cry.  Oh, no, some people are coming down the trail.  Don't want them to see the tears.  They'll think I'm crying because the hike is too hard.  I'm crying because I'm happy and sad all at the same time.  Happy because look where I am!  Happy because I'm with wonderful new friends.  Happy because I'm hiking.  Sad because my life is in an upheaval.  Sad because I don't know where I'm going.  Sad because even though I have friends, I'm all alone, disconnected, afloat.

Oh, no, mule tracks, mule poop, mule pee!  What a mess they make of the trail.  Up and up, from shade spot to shade spot.  Rest, then hike on.  Up and up.   Is that the reflection of a car I see?  I think it is!  Is that the top?  I'm out!  Yippeee!  What a fabulous hike!

I'm so glad our new friends, Chris and Aaron, will be giving us a ride to the campground up here.  The sign says 1/2 mile, but it's more like a mile and 1/2.  Liars!  And here they have huge campsites, but limit the tents to 3.  Go figure!  Must be a different bureaucratic office than the one that manages the campgrounds in the canyon.  And the lodge with gift shops, restaurants, etc. is another mile away with no shuttle.  The North Rim is not a hiker friendly place in my estimation.  You need a car up here.  Oh well, we'll manage, and we do.  

Almost missed a highlight up here, Bright Angel Point.  Luckily Chris said it was one of the top views of his hike, so Edge and I checked it out.  This narrow, white rocked ridge line reaches out into the canyon with incredible views on each side of this peninsula about 1/4 mile long.  It definitely got my vertigo riled up, but I wouldn't have missed it.  We were able to see the Bright Angel Canyon and where we hiked out the last 2 days.  

Getting home from the North Rim is not an easy trip.  Four and 1/2 hour bus trip to the South Rim, 2 hour car ride to Flagstaff, two and 1/2 hour car ride to Phoenix, one hour shuttle ride to the airport, and 7 hour flight home.  Whew!  





And now I'm resting up for Iowa and RAGBRAI.

Step Lightly,  Bag Lady

Friday, June 5, 2009

The Blooming of a Wonder Woman


I first met Madeline's dad, Joe, at the Phantom Ranch in the Grand Canyon.  He mentioned he and his 11 year old daughter were hiking out to Clear Creek the next day.  So were we!  He also said there were ruins out there.  If you read the blog I posted yesterday, you'll already know that I couldn't find them.  But I'm getting off the subject of Madeline Falley of Kansas City, Kansas.

Even though half of our group could not complete the hike all the way to Clear Creek, Madeline did!  And that makes her a "blooming wonder woman"  and the world needs more young girls like Madeline.  This hike was strenuous, challenging, and downright dangerous.  We hiked along the edges of a steep mountain on loose, crumbling shale with the path only a the width of one of our feet - and that was on a slant down the hill.  

And Madeline made it!  You go, girl!  It took them over 10 hours, but they persisted (kudos to Dad for tying Madeline to him, and pushing onward).  

 And when Madeline and I met up, we went swimming up the creek - just us girls!

Girl Power!  This young lady was on an 8 day rim to rim hike of the Grand Canyon, and at only 11 years of age.   Keep up the good work, Madeline.  Forever be as strong and as adventurous as you are today!  It will take you far in life.

Hugs,  Kathryn (aka Bag Lady)

Thursday, June 4, 2009

5 Days Hiking Rim to Rim - the executive summary

This pic wasn't taken in Grand Canyon becuz I didn't take my iPhone, but of looks like this there so it will have to do for now. Friday, 6:30 a.m. we put our packs on our backs and stepped off the edge into the abyss. OMG!  OMG!  OMG!  We couldn't say it often emough!  The views were so spectacular. And I've seen them before. But it's breathtaking every time.   And down, and down, and down we went for 7 hours, for 8 miles. I think our pace was so slow because we kept stopping and saying OMG!  When we neared the bottom, we met up with the mules. We were on the South Kaibab Trail and for now no mules are on it while it's undergoing maintenance. The mules are cool to see but smelly to follow: poop and pee!  And they make the trail terribly dusty and not fun to hike on. At the bottom is the Colorado River, a greyish green sludgy mess with a powerful current. Three boys died I'm it this year attempting to swim across it. The Bright Angel Campground is nestled in the canyon along with Phantom Ranch, a rustic resort with quaint cabins and community dining hall.


Our hiking days started early (everyone else up around 4 a.m. but yours truly who's got this morning pack up routine slept in an extra hour). We would be hiking by 5:30 - 6:30 to beat the heat. But we were lucky on that most days cloud cover came in around 11a.m. and kept us fairly cool. The temps were unseasonably below normal up to 15 degrees and we were happy for that.


Next day was a hike out to Clear Creek a long 10 miles along the Tonto Plateau after climbing out of the nott of the canyon. Our group had 2 thru-bikers from the Appalachian Trail (Maryland Edge and me) and 4 hikers new to the sport at varying degrees of fitness and pack weights. We ended up splitting up due to differing hiking paces. Edge stated back with Diane and Bill, while Roger, Jim, and I hiked ahead. We used a walkie-talkie to stay in touch. About 11a.m. Edge callled to say that Bill's hip belt buckle had broken and he and Diane were having a rough time so they'd gone to plan B. They were going to hike back to a rocky ledge that had large puddles of water and spend the night. We'd meet them back at Bright Angel the next day. This let the three of us continue on to Clear Creek. And what a hike it was. In and out of all the canyon's "hollers" - 15 of them before we hot to the red shale mountain that we had to traverse on a path no wider than my foot, often tilting downhill, with loose crumbling shale. Are they kidding?  Someone could get hurt or even killed out here!  In fact someone did the week we were there. A 69 yr old man fell off the Hermit Trail down 200 ft. And it took them a week to find him. Sure doesn't surprise me. Not a place for the faint of heart... Of the clumsy. While trying to find ruins back up Clear Creek that evening by myself, I was scrambling along a bank of loose dirt and rocks. And as I stepped on one rock I thought about it giving way under me.  And it did. Down I fell. Luckily it was only about 8 - 10 ft and I just scrapped up my thigh. Oops!  Better there than ok a cliff a thousand feet up... And we were on ones like that. Never did find the ruins but I was running out of daylight and had no clue where they were. The rangers won't tell you anything about them. I did get a skinny dip though.


Plane's boarding. Have to finish later.


Bag Lady

Sent from my iPhone

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Sedona is my kinda town

The group all made it to Phoenix on time yesterday and hooked up at
the airport with no problems. Maryland Edge spotted me first.
Bill,Jim, and Diane made me feel quite welcome. We shuttled to
Surprise, AZ where Roger loves. After lunch,getting our rental cars
and packing them, we headed off to Sedona. The views coming in here
were a sight to behold. I've seen it before buy it still takes my
breath away!

We took 2 hikes today: one up to Cathedral Rock and the other up
through a canyon north of town. The first was hot, rocky, and had
cactus and desert plants. The second was through lush woods plants.
Didn't feel like Arizona!

Off to the Grand Canyon tomorrow and hiking in on Friday! Can't wait!

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Up up and away!

I'm on my way

Packing just never gets easier. I'm trying to learn to take less and
less but that adds to the stress. This trip is hard because two of the
nights the temp will get down to 35 and the other nights it will be in
70s. What weight sleeping bag? Do I freeze for 2 nights or roast for
4? I packed both my 15* bag (more like a 30*) and my 50*.

And then besides my hiking gear I need clothes for playing in Sedona.
Well it is what it is. I'm packed, boarded, and on my way!

Looking forward to meeting my hiking buds in a few hours. From our
email exchange I can tell they are gonna be lots of fun and full of
laughs! And I love to laugh.

Sent from my iPhone

Monday, May 25, 2009

Testing blogging from iPhone

I think now I have all my ducks in a row and can send an email and
have it post to my blog.

Final packing day. Hope I remember everything I want to take with me.
But usually anything that I forget wasn't important anyways or can be
purchased there. I just got an email fell one of the guys and it's
supposed to be only 35 degrees at the north rim. That means that we
have to carry our cold weather gear for 5 days in 90* heat so that we
don't freeze when we get there. Hmmm ???

More later, bag lady

Sent from my iPhone

Monday, May 18, 2009

Biking the Keys

Ok, okay!  I got grief for not keeping up my blog.  I'm sorry.  I couldn't tell if anyone was reading it or not.  I couldn't write it from my iPhone.  I couldn't find computers.  I got tired of telling my tales.  And on, and on, she moaned.

So where did I leave off?  So I see that I really didn't write much about my experience of biking through the keys, did I.  From Florida City, I took the Card Sound road out to Key Largo.  The traffic was light and the shoulder skimpy, but by this time I was used to biking with little or no shoulder.  I would make the cars go around me, by biking out into the lane.  Whenever I stayed close to the white line, they seemed to think that we could go 3 abreast when there was an oncoming car...and it got really tight.  When I stayed out in the lane, they had to wait until the oncoming car passed by before trying to get around me.  It pissed off a lot of drivers, but made it safer for me.

I had heard about this restaurant that was right before the bridge to Key Largo, Alabama Jack's, I think.  A funky outdoor bar/restaurant.  But I hit there late morning, too early for lunch, so I just got some ice water and a bit of a rest.  There were people there drinking and eating already.  Their biggest frustration there was people feeding the birds, or worst yet, the birds just helping themselves.  Yup, diving in and grabbing food right off the plates or out of peoples hands.  I didn't get to view this particular acrobatic event, but there were a lot of signs up warning people not to feed the birds.

After a brief respite, I hopped back on to attack one of the Florida hills: a bridge!  Where Card Sound road enters Key Largo is into a wildlife preserve so the roads were quiet and there was little traffic.   The ocean was a beautiful sight and I pulled over just to enjoy the view.  I have found biking is even too fast a way to travel.  I have to watch the road for obstacles (nails, glass, truck tires, gravel, etc.), watch the road cars approaching from both directions, there's not much time for sightseeing.  So whenever I really wanted to look at something, I stopped.  I had to.

Card Sound Rd. hooked up with Route 1, the main highway down the keys, but the quiet continued for many more miles before I really hit the heavy traffic and the fun biking was over.
Now it turned in to your typical beach strip of malls and shops, and cars coming at me from all directions.  I spotted a sign that said "Gyros" and decided to stop for lunch.  Mmmm, pretty good gyro too.  Or maybe I was just hungry.  I asked a guy about the bike path I'd heard about and he
 said it was that sidewalk on the other side of the road.  Turned out there is quite a good bike path down through much of the keys. Problem is that it starts and stops and shifts from one side of the road to the other. I would often find myself biking along and look over to see that there was a bike path, but with no way to get over to it until the next intersection.  How long has that been there and I didn't see it?  And just when I managed to get over and get on it, it ended!  And crossing Rte 1 was not an easy proposition with a loaded bike after I was stopped.  

As I continued on that first day, I wondered what I was going to find for sleeping accommodations as the day wore on into evening.  I found a place that had a large meadow-like space with a long driveway back to a couple of houses and boat launching area.  I wandered back there, scoping out several places to camp near trees in this meadow-like space.  The main house had no one home.  I thought the smaller one probably was a rental unit so I did not approach them.  I went back up the drive and stopped where I thought would be a good spot, and waited to see if anyone arrived before it got dark.  Once it got dark, I was going to go ahead and  set up my tent.  A car came up the driveway.  I chased the guy down and he said I should ask his in-laws that own the place and live in the smaller house. So I did.  And they said, "Our neighbors will complain or we'd let you.  We tried having camping here and they got all upset."  So I had to move on.  Oh, well.  So much for asking permission.  They never would have seen me after dark.

The next spot I found was in a wildlife preserve off the edge of the road, tucked back in the brambles.  All the plants in Florida want to scratch and bite you.  It's not a very friendly environment.  Also, guess what, the keys are made of coral.  You can't stake a tent on any of them.  I didn't know that.  My tent won't stand without staking.  Good thing I had a little hammock with me.  Not a hammock tent, no just an open hammock.  Not too good for keeping the mosquitoes and no-see-ums off me, but at least it let me get horizontal for a few hours.  Rough night, but I did manage to get some sleep.  

That night was so cool, too, because my nephew, Skye, had a project for school he had to do where he had to interview someone about their life and he wanted to interview me.  So we set 
up a time for that evening when I'd be sure to be able to spend time answering his questions.  So here I was sitting on a coral bank to some sort of water source (lake, pond, canal - I don't know), telling my life story.  How cool is that?  Too bad his presentation was going to be before I returned home so I wasn't going to be able to attend.  Boo hoo.

Up at sunrise, and off for day 2 on the keys.  And now I'm going to have to scratch my memory to figure out what I did on this day.  Old age is hell, and the mind is the first thing to go.  Same old, same old.  Old business, small roads leading left and right to beach houses, mostly small and dusty and dated.  Fabulous views of the water on both sides, usually when I crossed the bridges. And the color of the water was almost unnatural.  So aqua that I thought it had to be dyed.  I do recall...ah, yes now I know what I did this day.  I sat on the beach.  Anne's beach.  On Islamorado Key.  One thing I learned that I didn't know before (I used to ask my kids this question at the dinner table at night) was that there are few beaches on the Keys.  Coral not sand.  But someone had mentioned Anne's beach, so I stopped there.  It was sandy with mounds of seaweed washed up and left at high tide.  There was a boardwalk with platforms for shade and picnic tables.  I plunked myself down near one of the platforms and the Cuban family there celebrating someone's birthday plied me with food and drink!  Language was a barrier so I didn't learn much about them but it was fun watching them play and listening to them party and sing.  I was working on my tan. 
 I wanted to find moments when I could put on a suit and get color on greater areas, eliminating the "farmer" tan I feared I was getting while biking.  In fact to minimize the funny biker tan, I bought a string bikini top that I wore when I road.  It also kept me the coolest while on the bike.  I also pulled my bike shorts up from the bottom and down from the top to reduce the area unexposed and also create a greater cooling effect.  "Biking hot pants!" I think I've got my million dollar idea.

While laying on the beach, I put together a plan for the evening.  There was a state park, Long Key State Park, just 10 miles down the road and a quick call to them let me know I had a place to stay.  I called them back and found out there was a restaurant just a half mile before there.  This restaurant was one that I had read about it someone else's journal about biking the Keys and they loved the place, so I was psyched!  I arrived when they were just opening for dinner and I had the place to myself.  Find the outlet and sit down to charge my i's (iPod, iPhone).  I should have just stuck with the salad bar, but I let the guy talk me in to pasta and I was not pleased with the sauce.  The German Chocolate Cake was old, but the coffee tasted good.  Oh, well, not everyone likes the same restaurants. 

But what a treat Long Key State Park turned out to be.  Primitive camping was on platforms on the beach.  Much nicer than where the other campers were along side Rte 1.  I was able to get my tent staked using sticks of wood jammed between the platform slats.
  There was a roof over the platform and picnic tables on each one.  And they were all connected by a boardwalk.  We even could use the hot showers in the general camping area...and all for $7/night!  Best deal on all of the Keys.  I'd go back there in a NY minute.   When I checked in, the ranger said there was another woman biker camping there.  Marie was from Montreal and this was her 4th loaded tour.  She'd biked across Canada, down the West coast, and done a loop tour through western states.  
This trip she started in NJ on the same day I left home driving south.  We may try to hook up to do a bike trip in Europe some day.  She had been to Key West and was headed back to Miami to fly north.  I gave her the tip of the Everglades Hostel. 
 

In the morning, after packing my bike to take off, I said to myself "Why?"  You're in no rush.  This place is beautiful like your own deserted island.  And you have it all to yourself.  So I stayed.  I rested, sunned, hiked the nature trail, biked to the store, and just enjoyed my island.  Loved it.
 
 This place and the Everglades Hostel in Florida City were my 2 favorite sites on the whole trip.

Ok, enough rest, keep biking to Key West.  At this point I was about 65 miles away still.  Two days.  Remember, I was on vacation.  No need to rush.  Stop and smell the roses along the way.

Now let's see if I can remember anything significant about this day.  Oh, yes... 7 Mile Bridge!  This one had me a bit worried.  My original plan was to bike up to the bridge and sleep at a nearby campground so that I could bike over the bridge first thing in the morning when it was cool and maybe the traffic was lighter.  Well you know about best laid plans.  I got there at about 3 pm in the heat of the day.  Someone had mentioned to me that I should bike out on the old bridge to Pigeon Key and take a boat back.  I wasn't sure what he meant.  But I did see a sign about Pigeon Key, so I stopped in this train engine office/gift shop.  The gig is they have a motor boat that will take you out to Pigeon Key and leave you to tour around, look at the museum, talk to the tour guide, and then bring you back.  Last tour of the day was just leaving.  Sure, what the heck.  So for $11 I took this side trip.
  Anything to avoid the 7 Mile Bridge.  Larry and Susan run the shuttle service to Pigeon Key.  They shuttle employees and guests back and forth to the island.  This key is 2 miles out directly under the old bridge.  The old bridge is under disrepair and has sections missing.  
Many a biker bikes out thinking they can bike all the way on this old thing and get to Pigeon Key only to learn they have to turn around and bike back in to the wind and take the new bridge.  There should be a sign.  Pigeon Key is a very small speck of land where the workers lived while they were building the original bridge which carried the railroad to Key West.  Built between 1909 and 1912. 

Okay, no more dawdling...get biking over that bridge.  Wow!  what a view!  Nice wide shoulders.
  Not a bad ride at all.  Let's see what we can find for a place to sleep tonight.  Always a worry.  Always a concern.  I'd read about Big Pine Fishing Lodge and since Bahia Honda State Park was full (always full), I decided to try for the Lodge.  I pulled in there about 6:30 pm.  $41 to tent!  What!  Are you kidding me?  Let me see the sites.  Solid coral.  I can't put a tent up here.  No place to even swing the hammock.  Nope.  Not gonna stay.  I'll bike on.  In the back of my mind I'm thinking:  to where?  But gutsy girl, off I go.  I even ponder the thought of biking all the way to Key West this night.  About 30 more miles.  Would be dark when I got in, but I know the hostel has room.  Let's go for it.  And then I bike through a village of Big Pine.  Could I find a place here to camp?  Behind some professional building?  Nope, opens up to street behind. 
 No stealth place here.  What about up this residential roads?  Nothing there.  Gotta be some place I can tuck in where my tent would go up (lawns are good for that) and no one would see me.  Just as I decide to leave town and near the bridge to the next key, I see a brushy area off to the left with a gate across the road saying "No motorized vehicles".  I'm not motorized.  Let's see what's back there.  Could I put my tent up in that sand?  What about hang the hammock from those tall bushes?  I'm out of  view.  Well, except for that guy in the boat who's watching me.  I'm gonna stay here.  I'm too tired to keep biking and this is as good as I'm gonna find tonight.  Now where's my bug spray?  These no-see-ums have painful bites.  Did I leave it at last night's site?  I can't find it.  Oh my gosh!  These bugs are going to eat me alive.  Get my windshirt on.  (It's nylon and quite sweaty, but they can't seem to bite through it.)  Get the hammock up.  Get in it.  Oh their biting my legs.  Get in the sleeping bag.  There.  Hot, sweaty, melting, but no bites.  Now sleep, girl!  Toss, turn, sleep, wake.  Long night.  Is that someone on a bicycle passing by?  Who cares?  Wish they'd turn off that bright light on that house over there.  It's shining in my eyes.  So close them.  Ah, morning, finally.  Get up, get dressed, slap the no-see-um's, get packed, get going.  Oh, they're eating me alive.  I can't pack fast enough.  Get out of here!  
Down to the gas station.  Get some coffee.  If you had a chair and some reading material, we could call this Starbucks.  Oh, you do... that white plastic chair is for me?  And a book about Jimmy Buffet.  This will do.  Do you mind if I sit here and enjoy my coffee?  Thanks.


Key West here I come!  The views!  The water's so blue, the houses so colorful and bright, the flowers so full.  I feel good!!!  I arrived in Key West when this bike tour arrived.  Stopped and chatted with them. They biked from Key Largo with support and staying at inns along the way.  One night in Key West and they'll bike back to Key Largo.  Poor guys.  Into that wind won't be any fun.  I like knowing that I'll be leaving Key West on the ferry in a couple of days and not have to bike back up the Keys into the wind.

First I need to find some sunglasses to replace the pair  I lost at Big Pine Fishing Lodge.  Then I need to find a bike store to replace the bike lock I left behind this morning packing up too fast and not checking the site well.  Then, find the hostel.  That's astro turf for grass under those tables in the hostel courtyard.  How clever.  Doesn't get worn down, I guess.  The bunk rooms were rather prison like, but there's an outdoor kitchen and washer/dryer.  But one bathroom to share amongst 5-6 women.  This should be fun.  Do laundry.  Unload bike.  Go for a ride around town.  No helmet.  Flip flops.  Skirt and top.  This is biking as it should be.  What a cute town when I get on the back streets.  A little lost at first, but eventually I figure things out.  Southernmost monument.  Mile zero.  Duval Street.  Mallory Square.  (Have to come back here for sunset.)  What's that cute eatery.  Organic?  Healthy?  Outdoor seating.  I like it.  Liked it so much I ate all but one meal here over the 2 days.  "Help Yourself"  on the corner of Fleming and Margaret Sts.  Mmmm good.


Must do Mallory Square at sunset.  



There was this acrobat that could do 25 handstand pushups!  Have to show that one to my guys at CrossFit!  Lots of flame jugglers.  And art vendors.  But the sunset stole the show!  Since I'm not a bar girl, it was home early to bed.  

Next day I took in the Hemmingway house (and all the cats), the Mel Fisher Museum, and some shopping...not that I bought anything.  But reading a local paper, I read that there was going to be a play opening at the Waterfront Theater that evening, so I decided to get tickets.  "The Musical of Musicals, the Musical"  was a very funny musical production spoofing the various musical directors of Broadway.  And I finally met some people from Key West, which always the highlight of visiting any new place.  In fact, the stage manager, Trish Manly, and I hit it off.  She told me that she lived on a boat docked in the harbor, so I asked if I could come visit her the next day.  Better than sightseeing to me.  She said she wants to hike the Appalachian Trail some day and I told her I'd help in anyway I could.  

So Thursday, my last day in Key West, I pedaled on over to Cow Key where Trish lived.  Big sailboat.  Glad we didn't take it out.  No there's a pared down life style.  10 months in Key West, 2 months in MN.  Hopefully we'll be able to put trip plans together for something.  Kindred spirit she was.  Now, a little beach time at Higgs Beach, visit Nancy's garden (a small spot of wildlife in the middle of Key West), pick up dinner at Help Yourself cafe, and get over to the ferry early.

What do you mean you want me take all my bags off my bike here?  And haul them where?  Can't I leave them on the bike to get them over there?  It would make much more sense.  Security scan at the ferry.  Finally someone who's thinking intelligently.  Thanks for helping guys.  Not a fan of boats.  Get seasick.  Should I take something?  Two tablets?  No, I think I'll just take one.  Don't want to be too sleepy.  Just want to take the edge off.  Hi Paul and Michelle.  On your honeymoon, huh?  You have a truck parked at Ft. Myer's Beach and could take me home to Sarasota tonight?  Let me think about that.  Hmmmm??????  Nope, not done with this bike trip.  Really want to bike all the way back.  But thanks anyways.  Appreciate the offer.

Where do I go now that we've docked?  Get my lights on:  blinking red on the back, headlamp on my helmet.  Pedal on back to Ft. Myers Beach.  Take Martin LeBlanc up on his offer of staying at his homeowners association's gazebo on the beach.  Only 4 miles away.  Hot night.  Don't think I'll put up my tent.  Just lay out my pad and bag and settle in for a good night's sleep.  Ahhh...what's that?  Bright light.  In my eyes.  Sit up.  Shake my head.  What's going on?  This is private property.  I have the permission of one of the homeowners, Martin LeBlanc.  I don't know that name.  He doesn't live on our street.  I just got off the ferry at 10 pm and needed a place to sleep til dawn and he said I could sleep here.  I'll be gone at day break.  Back to sleep.  He goes and walks on the beach with his girlfriend.  Walks back through gazebo.  Shines light on my bike.  Back to sleep...well, trying anyways.  Sensitive to lights.  More lights up by street.  Sit up.  Guys coming up sidewalk.  911 got a call that someone needed medical attention.  No, I'm fine.  A bit sleepy is all.  Told my story.  Said it was probably that guy who wasn't happy I was here.  Ok, if you don't need medical attention we'll be on our way.  So will I, 'cause I can't get any sleep here.

And that's how my longest mile day ever began.  Start pedaling.  How far back to Sarasota?  80 miles?  Can I make it in one day?  That's a long ways.  Might as well try.  Into afternoon.  So hot when I stop biking.  Smothered by the heat.  Can't bike in sun for more than a couple of miles.  Need shade.  Cold drink.  Rest.  Cool down.  Go for another couple of miles and rest again.  On and off the bike  all afternoon.  So tired.  Just rest here by this tree.  Sleep against my bike.  Ma'am.  You okay?  Will people never stop waking me up?  Thank you officer.  Appreciate the concern.  Just resting.  Getting enough liquids?  Yup, plenty.  (Found a good trick.  I would stop at restaurants and have them pack my water bottles with ice and top them off with water.  One bottle is a liter hiking bottle and I kept it stowed in my pannier where it would stay icy and chilled for hours.)  Is that an ice cream place?  If I get a break in traffic, I'm stopping.  Otherwise, it's not meant to be.  There's a break.  Go for it.  Root beer float.  Taste so good.  That will give me energy to finish this ride.  On and on.  Mile after mile.  5:30 pm.  Call girlfriend.  I don't know if I can make it.  I'm so tired.  My butt is numb.  My crotch is raw.  My legs are beat.  A hot shower?  A real bed?  Sure beats camping in the bush another night.  If you don't hear from me, I'm still pedaling.  On to the Legacy Trail (rail to trail between Venice and Sarasota).  I know I can make it now.  Getting dark.  I can bike in the dark.  Put the lights on the bike.  Keep pedaling.  Streets of Sarasota.  Can I remember how to get to Kim's house?  Think I know.  What's the odometer say? 99.26.  I want to break 100 before I stop today.  Take a bit longer loop as I get close to the house.  There it is!  CONGRATULATIONS banner across the driveway!  100.02 on the odometer.  I did it!  Over 100 miles, one day, 95* heat and humidity, loaded bike!  One tough girl!