Day One of Blogging

I've finally done it!  I've created a blog.  Does that make me one of the cool people?  I sure hope so.  Here I am, nearing 60 (ouch! can't say that number out loud), the most fit that I've ever been, the most detached that I've ever been, the most useless that I've ever been.  So the only way from here is up, yes?  I have no job, no lover, kids grown and gone...a drift on the sea, not sure where to go or why.  I'm pondering the big question:  Why are we here?  Are we just here to fill time? Right now, most days, that's what it feels like.  And I'm able to do that quite well, with nothing really accomplished at the end of the day.  And I'm told "That's ok".  I'm waiting for a sign from the universe as to what's the next step, the next big adventure.  Maybe I'm already on it!  This is a pretty scary trip I'm on, direction unknown.

I've planned some distractions for the next couple of months:  a canoe trip with friends down the Suwannee River in Florida, a bike trip looping across Florida solo, hiking in to Trail Days in Virginia, and hiking rim to rim in the Grand Canyon with friends.  I've even signed up for RAGBRAI (the bike ride across Iowa) but have to wait to see if I get in through the lottery.

So I'm staying busy while I heal.  Heal from a broken heart.  Heal from the transition into retirement.  Heal from the loss of an elderly loved one (106 - can't feel sorry for her!).  Heal from the state of the economy and mood of the country.

I'm not sure why I set up this blogging site.  For one, I've wanted to learn how to do this to use it when I travel (and I'm planning to travel a lot... running away some may call it.... call it what you will, but I'm getting out of town!)  For another, maybe a place to write about aging gracefully... or not!  I'm fighting it every step of the way.  I feel about 49 turning 50, not 59 turning 60.  I think I look it too.  Others may or may not agree.  I workout 3 days a week with weights.  Heavy weights!  And lots of other tough moves like squatting and pushups and jumping and pullups and rowing and throwing.  It's called CrossFit and I love how hard it is.  It gets me out of my head.  And I am the oldest woman in the gym.  And not the slowest!  Go Bag Lady!  Whomp those young things.

I also like to ski (nordic and alpine), hike, backpack, canoe, and bike.  Am I missing anything?  And when I'm not depressed, I like to cook, garden, read, watch movies (I even do that while depressed), decorate my quaint canal home, and spend time with friends.  This last year learning to live all alone has been the pits and I still don't really like it.  I've discovered what a social being I am.  Some alone time is okay, but alone day and night really gets to me.  And I don't have many friends that are comfortable just hanging around informally... the drop-in type.  But I do have one and she's been my life saver!  It probably helps that she lives a couple of blocks away.

So on the topic of aging.  I've been able to fight it off physically, but not mentally.  The number 60 is depressing.  It signals Senior Citizen.  How did this happen?  How did I get this old?  I have a daughter turning 32 this month - she's almost caught up to me!

Glasgow and Setting Off

July 6, 2014
Somewhere north of Glasgow, Scotland

I can't remember what I wrote last or when...and I don't have access to my posts right now so I may have a skip in time. I have no internet because the SIM card I bought doesn't have service up here (but April does thank goodness so we have some mapping capability). I'll manage without, I guess. Do me good:)

So our bikes went on smoothly in Lisbon and we managed to cycle from the airport to our hostel, 10 miles away. I think I've written all that. And about our quick tour of London.









So next was our train trip to Glasgow. We were advised by a local friend not to cycle the Cornwall peninsula this time of year due to tourist traffic and narrow roads...she said Scotland was the place to go...all be it midgies' season. You know...no-see-ums!! So here we are in Scotland at the worst possible time and on bikes and camping, no less. Tonight they attacked for our first time...but then it's only our second day out of Glasgow. But I'm getting ahead of myself.


We stayed at a new hostel in Glasgow that had just opened in an old church. Nicely done! It was about a mile from the center of town, but we found not much to really see there. We got our first day of rain in awhile. The gloomy old buildings combined with the gloomy weather we found a bit depressing. We did explore their cemetery (on the way into town) and the Glasgow cathedral was interesting because it had churches under the main church. Never saw that before. We are a tad tired of seeing old buildings and have lost our enthusiasm a bit...yawn. And since we aren't spending any money, or trying not to, because the exchange rate is killing us, we don't go where there's a fee unless ISPs really spectacular...and nothing in Glasgow really grabbed us. We heard Edinburgh is better but we won't be going there. Can't see everything.

We're headed up to Isle of Mull. Slow as we're going (about 30 miles a day), it's going to take us a couple more days to get there. Coming out of Glasgow we ran into a parade. The first girl I asked what it was about I could not for the life of me understand her strong accent. I kept asking until I found someone who spoke "English":). Orange Walk. Something about the Protestants and they do it every year. Bigger parade in Belfast, I was told. Was fun to see just the same!

And then we found the canal path. Thought I was home! There was a canal path for 20 miles until we got to Loch Lomond. ( not sure about a lot of spellings, but with no maps or internet to check myself you'll have to suffer.). " You take the high road and I'll take the low road, and I'll be in Scotland 'afore ye...for me and my true love will never meet again on the bonnie bonnie banks of Loch Lomond." My mother singing this keeps playing in my head! And what a beautiful lake it is ringed by mountains! 23 miles long and not built up along its shores. Scotland is rural. Few roads. No shoulders. No turn offs. Nothing but cars, and trucks, and busses, and caravans, and other loaded cyclists on the roads. And nowhere to get away from them. But before we got to having to cycle on the road, we spent about 15 miles on a cycle path along the lake that was undulating and wooded and quiet. Too bad it came to an end.

The people who come up to chat are all curious, as usual. About the bikes and about us. It's nice to have someone else to tell our tale:).

In a new country it's always an adventure to figure out the wild camping bit. Like I said we've had few places to pull off, but last night found a nook on the edge of a field that was behind a golf course. It did have a sign that warned about the that but we decided the dense woods between us and the tee gave us some protection. And in the evening we took our chairs up and enjoyed the view after the golfers had gone home. Tonight we lucked out even better we a turnoff that took us to an isolated road that overlooked a stunning valley. A pastoral view, like many museum paintings I've seen over the years!



We'll just have to see what to tomorrow brings.



Livin' the life!

BagLady

St Jean Pied de Port

April 13, 2014



I'm laying on the bottom bunk in a 12 bunk room at Le Chemin Vers D'Etoiles, our refuge for 2 nights. Val, Phil, and April are at church. I need my rest. Yesterday was the bus ride from hell for me. We left Madrid at 10:30 am and arrived her at 7:15 pm. In between I was either spinning from nausea or sleeping from Dramamine. Sleeping was preferred. I don't do buses well. And certainly not sitting in the back. I missed seeing the countryside of Spain but will get to view it on the Camino.

We chose to stay 2 nights in SJPdP and have booked a room just 6 miles up into the Pyrennees at Orrisson. No one in our group (other than Phil) has done much training so we're going slowly. No hurrying needed. Besides I'm enjoying the short time we have in France, where I can understand the language and speak some too:). Even if it had been 45 years since I spent a summer here the feelings, the memories, they all came rushing back. When breakfast was a bowl (not cup) of coffee with milk and bread with butter and jam, I felt like I was back in Mama Jutge's kitchen!

Wow! Lying here, I heard singing outside the window. So I look out to see locals, carrying boughs of greens, walking up the tiny street towards the bridge singing! Quite beautiful! I hope the video will post! No luck with the video, sorry. I've never had luck uploading them. I'll try to post it to Facebook

Livin' the life,

BagLady