The MK Adventures, parts 2 & 3

Kendall and I hang out all the time at home and around town, and we had our hiking adventure on Eagle Cliff Mountain earlier this summer. Unfortunately, after the first couple of weeks, our schedules have been opposite so that our days off don't line up. We decided we didn't care and wanted to try going for a hike again last week, so we chose last Wednesday, when I got off work at 5:30pm. By the time we got a parking pass and headed to Glacier Gorge Junction for the trailhead to Black Lake, it was 6:30pm when we hit the trail.

We made it back the 5 miles without running into too many people. We were the ONLY ones heading into the backcountry, but passed about three or four parties coming out. At one point, we passed a family of four (mom, dad, and two sons about our ages), and the older son exclaimed, "It's about time we saw some pretty ladies on the trail!" which definitely made our night. We continued back to where we hit Mills Lake and found an illegal camper right on the side of the lake.

Since we weren't in uniform, I felt uncomfortable confronting the man. He looked like the stereotypical climber--long hair, scruffy face, strong build--kind of that mountain-man, rugged look. I went up to him anyway though, starting by asking him how his day had gone and if he had been climbing that day. After talking for a few minutes, I explained that I was a ranger in the park, and even though I was off duty, there were a few things I just wanted to make him aware of. I educated him about our policies and procedures, and he seemed to really not have any prior notice about what those were. After letting him know I only wanted to raise awareness and wasn't going to call an LE Ranger (mainly because I had no cell coverage or a radio), Kendall and I headed down on the race to the lake before the sun set.

We reached the five mile mark aka Black Lake right as the sun had gone down. The colors on the peaks around us were amazing, but we didn't spend too much time there because we had the five mile return in the dark ahead of us. We made it the first half mile back before we decided to turn our headlamps and flashlights back on--trust me, we looked cool. Snoopy would have been jealous. We began to get nervous about animals, particularly bears and mountain lions, so I set the quick pace in the front while looking for bears while Kendall kept looking back every so often in case of a lion attack. Of course, we sang and talked the ENTIRE way down so that we wouldn't be a surprise to any animals around the corner and finally made it back to the car a little before midnight. Needless to say, we didn't go to Wednesday night bowling afterwards.

During our night hike, I noticed how limited our views were when the lights were turned on. With a flashlight or headlamp lighting the way, our eyes adjusted to the beam and everything surrounding us was completely black. When we would get to areas outside of the trees, we turned the lights off. When we reached a boulderfield, we turned them off and looked up into the stars. After just a few minutes of our eyes adjusting, we could see all around us without any problem. It's strange how limited our focus can be with those beams. Just like in real life, if you focus on one specific area, the outer reaches of your vision are extremely limited. That leads to the question of whether it's good to look more at the big picture or the more specific area. Is one better than the other or should it be a mixture of both? I know hiking, it was nice to switch back and forth, but basically impossible to do both at the same time because the bright light shone so much on that focused area.

Our third hiking adventure took place the night after I got back from Longs Peak. After returning to the BCO completely soaked (both myself and my pack), I took a hot shower to try and warm up and then we hit the trail for Andrew's Glacier. As soon as we got the first mile down the trail towards the site that was 3.6 miles away, the hail started without letting up. We made it another mile before reevaluating what our options were--keep going in the pouring rain/hail with my pack already soaked completely through.

At this point, we had less than a mile to go, but I couldn't handle it. I was hiking in jeans because the pants I wanted to wear were already drenched, and I knew these were not going to be fun to sleep in if they were soaked. We made the decision to turn around, and saw a rainbow immediately after doing so--we took that as a good sign!

When we got back home, we set up the tent in the living room without the fly on. We got snacks and climbed in for a night of watching The Office through our tent. Man, we're classy!!

White Helmet Beacon

I'm back.

I'm back from one of the scariest, most miserable experiences of this summer and I'm just hoping that I can look back and laugh at it all pretty soon.

It all started around noon Sunday at the BCO where I met John to grab a radio, drop off my car/keys, and pick up our permit. As usual, I arrived about fifteen minutes early so I checked the weather and started to fill out as much of our backcountry travel plan as I could with the information I had. Looking out the window, Longs Peak was completely covered in the clouds and all my coworkers who were in the office were questioning whether or not we were going to still attempt the climb. I said, "Of course!" and continued getting paperwork together. John had warned me the day before that a lady named Faith was going to be joining us and I didn't really have a problem with that because he made it seem like it was a good idea. She showed up at the same time John pulled into the parking lot and we printed the permits and headed out without being too concerned about the weather. When we got to the trailhead, we packed up, took a group picture, and started off down the trail.

The thunder began almost immediately after we got on the trail.

I knew we were moving along at a slow speed because Faith seemed to be hiking at a slower pace, but by the time we reached the 'Goblin's Forest' backcountry campsite so John and I could inspect, we had only traveled a mile and a quarter and an hour had already passed. After John and I checked on the six sites and heard the thunder getting louder and closer together, we met Faith back at the trail and evaluated what we wanted to do. We decided to keep going at that point while keeping an eye on the weather literally all around us.

By the time we reached Granite Pass (the last two miles where you are THE TALLEST thing around aka the worst place to be in a storm), I was pretty wet from the rain and hiking along with Faith while John was way up ahead of us. Now don't get me wrong--I was having fun learning about the flora from her and learned tons of new flowers--I just wasn't prepared physically or mentally for hiking sooooooooo slooooooooow. When we reached the Granite Pass saddle, I could see another storm rising in the distance towards us and told Faith that we had about half an hour to cover the last 1.9 miles before that thing would hit us in the worst place to possibly be. She said she understood and then took ANOTHER break. By the time my predicted half hour passed, the storm hit and we began to soak. She could see my discomfort and suggested I go ahead. At this point, I was sure John was already at the campsite and had the tent set up, and I didn't want to be stuck in this area for much longer. Unfortunately, my conscience also didn't want to leave Faith alone out in that area because she wouldn't have been able to move quickly if the lightning started striking closer by. I stuck with her a little longer until the rain subsided a tiny bit and then she offered again for me to speed up. This time, I took her up on the offer since I was carrying the water pump and stove. That way, I could start filtering water and we could get the stove going to cook dinner.

I headed up that last mile and a half and the tears of frustration immediately began falling down my face. If you know me, you know that it takes a lot for me to get that upset, and this was the first time all summer that I have been driven to that extent. By the time I reached the Boulderfield where John had set up the tent, he just looked at me and asked what was wrong. I told him I was frustrated and just needed a little space and I would be fine. He headed down the trail to meet Faith and carry her pack the rest of the way up for her and I calmed down a little. I just couldn't believe how it could POSSIBLY take eight HOURS to hike six miles. John and I had been planning on three hours--four max due to his ankle injury earlier this summer.

I grabbed the filter and empty platypus bladders to fill up with water down by the hitch-rack and met a couple guys about my age from Ohio. We talked for a bit and filtered the water before I headed back to the site so we could get into dinner action. The sunset was gorgeous, as was to be expected, but we didn't make it up to the top of Storm Peak to see it. After dinner, we got our daypacks together for the morning and then headed to the tent to crash. John and I decided that the sunrise climb wouldn't work also because of the slow speed that had been set that day, so that already took out two of the three summits I was looking forward to. We decided on a 5:30am wake-up alarm and dozed off to a restless night of shivering with intermittent sleep.

5:30am rolled around and we made breakfast and headed up the rest of the boulderfield to the keyhole at 6:00am. John reached the keyhole first, with me right on his tail. Faith on the other hand was still halfway between where we were and the camp (which was only half a mile, if that!!). I looked over the other side of the keyhole into a sea of clouds that were heading up in our direction. I sat on a rock and just soaked in the view of 13,200' above sea level. By the time Faith reached us, I had come to the decision that I was not going to continue to the top. John tried to convince me otherwise, but I knew that I was going to be miserable the entire way up due to the slow speed and frustrations from the day before. Also, I didn't want to be stuck in the storms that were definitely heading our way and if I was going to be conquering my fear of heights, I wanted to get across some of those exposed areas quickly, rather than waiting longer for everyone to catch up. John told me he respected my decision and I bid them farewell as they continued on.

Rather than heading back to camp, I climbed across the boulders to another saddle (between the keyhole and Storm Peak) for another view and then began the climb back towards the tent. When I reached the tent, I dove back into my sleeping bag to get some more rest since I knew I had some time to kill before they made it back down.

I woke up to the sound of hail bouncing off the tent.

I turned my radio on to try and intercept the time since I didn't have a watch with me, and used that as my background entertainment--listening to elk jams and speeding tickets--while I finished reading Into the Wild, which I was smart enough to remember to pack. Five hours had passed from what was supposed to be a four-hour-max trip to the top and back down, and they were still not in sight. By this point, I had pulled my thermarest out from the tent and was sitting on it outside, leaning against a rock, talking with hikers setting up their own camps or just walking by.

As I looked around me, the sky looked like a scene from Harry Potter. To my left, I watched the dark, "dementor" clouds blowing towards me on the strong winds. To my right, the white clouds were doing the same thing--rushing towards the duel that was about to take place above me. At this point, I had just about had it. As the second dose of hail for the day began to pelt my arms, I dove back into the tent and began to pack my bag back up. When the hail turned into a sprinkle, I came back up and looked up towards the keyhole in hopes of seeing a yellow jacket, meaning John's return.


I saw one, and waited for it to reach me. Unfortunately, that wasn't him. Fortunately though the next yellow coat was his, so I waited for him to climb down. He had left Faith again at the keyhole, and his first words to me were, "You made the right choice." He went on to say that he couldn't believe I had waited the six+ hours for them return and he was expecting me to be gone by that point. I confessed that I was about to leave, but didn't want to leave him with the weight of his stove and pots that I had carried up. He said it was fine and that they needed it for Faith's lunch, but for me to go ahead and leave.

He didn't need to tell me twice.

I began the hike down the six miles, where I was going to be above treeline for the first four and a half, with a careful eye on the weather. The storms were moving in from every direction and I could hear thunder starting up all around me. By the time I reached the bottom foot of the boulderfield, the rain was starting and I was in the most exposed area of the hike. The thunder got to the point where it didn't stop and I started getting worried. There was only one person I could see anywhere around me, and when you are above treeline, you can see a far distance! He was a climber and had a white helmet hanging off his pack about half a mile to a mile ahead of me. That white, bouncing object was all I needed and I took off running.

I kept him in my eyesight for a while, and whenever he would go around a corner, I would just run faster because I didn't want to lose sight of a human if the lighting (which WAS striking) hit anywhere near me. I caught up with him after three miles had passed, and he let me go around him. After I passed, he said, "Hey, you are setting a pretty good pace! If you keep that up, I'll stay with you." "Thanks!" I replied, "this thunder is intimidating and I will feel much better with someone else around." So off Shamus (I found out his name later) and I went.

I was bounding over the tundra and jumping down boulders along the way, full 35+ pound pack on, and the thing running through my head was that the group I went to China with earlier this year would have been making fun of me and calling me a gazelle again. (At least that kept my spirits up!) Shamus and I talked a bit and I learned he had grown up in Estes and was visiting his family here now. He said how pleased he was to see that the park service was hiring rangers as in shape as myself, but that I should look into getting trekking poles to save my knees on some of this downhill stuff I was sprinting/jumping. He laughed at how touronish that sounded and I told him how happy that made me that he used the word touron!

When we reached the tundra, Shamus stopped to eat his food and I bid him farewell as I continued my run down the mountain. I forgot to mention that in the storm, I never put a jacket on because I didn't want to stop and become vulnerable. Needless to say, my tanktop didn't cut it so both my pack and myself were COMPLETELY soaked through. My camera had been in my pocket the whole time and I was worried about how waterlogged that got, but couldn't check because my hands were wet with nothing to dry them on.

After passing more people and the llamas who were out with the llama ranger looking for missing people, I made it to the trailhead and called out of service over the radio. When I heard what time it was, I was shocked that I made it down the six miles in just an hour and twenty minutes with that huge pack on my back!! That's when I realized John had driven me there and Kendall was still at work and couldn't come to get me.

I hung around the ranger station for a little while and helped successfully track down four of the five missing people. After about twenty minutes had passed, I saw a familiar face--Brian Hayes, RMNP LE Ranger, was coming down the trail. He had been climbing one of the rope routes on Longs with his brother-in-law on his day off, and they had room in the car to get me back to the BCO where Roxanne (my car) was waiting for me. I was so grateful and apologized for my wet clothes and pack in the car.

I got back to the BCO and reported on how the trip had gone before heading back home to take a hot shower in hopes of warming up before last night's backpacking trip with Kendall. (Be prepared for the Megan/Kendall saga...coming soon!) Hope seemed to be the word of the day yetserday though--I had never been so scared as far as I can remember as I was in that storm. The white helmet up ahead gave me hope the whole way through the intense, open areas, and I couldn't have asked for anything better or a nicer man to get me through the afternoon.

Anxiously Awaiting

Tomorrow is day 1/2 for the big climb up Longs Peak. I woke up this morning to take Pepper on a walk (I am housesitting for one of my coworkers--Andree), and looked out on the clear blue skies around Mt. Meeker which is one of Longs' neighboring peaks. I was imagining myself standing up on top and being able to see all around down below me while Pepper and I continued the walk home. This afternoon, I headed to REI in Boulder to pick up some last minute things for the trip and decided to take a new way home since I was going back to Andree's house. As I drove up the canyon on Highway 7, huge, heavy drops of rain began to pound down on my windshield. The mountains in front of me (including Meeker again) disappeared into the clouds and a foreboding shadow covered the valley.

The thunder is rumbling still outside and I am starting to get nervous about the weather for our trip. The LAST place you want to be in one of these storms is in a tent above treeline, at an elevation over 10,000 feet! I keep thinking that this has to be a test--a challenge to see if I will go through with my journey or cancel at the last minute. Well big guy, you should know by now that I am fully prepared to follow through!

The plan as of now is to meet John at noon tomorrow at work so we can repack our bags/share the gear, fill out a backcountry travel plan, and pick up a radio so we can help if there are any SAR (Search and Rescue) missions going on up there. There has already been that death this year and multiple SARs, so we figured we should make ourselves available since we are going to be up there. After we leave the BCO and hit the trail, we are heading up the six miles to the Boulderfield to pitch the tent and stow our gear for a while. We will probably head up to the keyhole to look around and then get into some dinner action.

After dinner, we are planning on summitting Storm Pass (elev. 13,326ft) for sunset. After the hike back to camp with our headlamps, we are going to get a short sleep before waking up at 4am to be on top of Mount Lady Washington (elev. 13,281ft) for sunrise so we can stare face-to-face with the diamond on Longs that glows red when that early morning sun hits it. After returning to camp (where hopefully Laura will meet up with us after leaving the TH at 2am!) we will head up to the summit of Longs Peak (elev. 14,259ft). We very well might be biting off more than we can chew by climbing two 13ers and a 14er in less than twelve hours, but I feel a lot better now since we will have the radio with us.

This whole trip is a huge mental game for me, but I know I can do this if I just talk myself into it. Slow, easy coaxing is going to be my mantra, and I already told John I don't want to much help--I need to do this myself. If I can conquer this fear, who knows what lies ahead for me!!

I've been reading Into The Wild, Edward Abbey books, A Sand County Almanac, The Last Season, and similar books, so I will leave with this excerpt today from Edward Abbey, Tufts III, June 1982:

"One final paragraph of advice: Do not burn yourselves out. Be as I am--a reluctant enthusiast...a part-time crusader, a half-hearted fanatic. Save the other half of yourselves and your lives for pleasure and adventure. It is not enough to fight for natural land and the west; it is even more important to enjoy it. While you can. While it's still here. So get out there and hunt and fish and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forests, encounter the grizzly, climb the mountains, bag the peaks, run the rivers, breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for awhile and contemplate the precious stillness, that lovely, mysterious, and awesome space. Enjoy yourselves, keep your brain in your head and your head firmly attached to the body, the body active and alive, and I promise you this much: I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies, over those deskbound men with their heats in a safe deposit box and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators. I promise you this: you will outlive the bastards."

The Butterfly Effect

While so many of the animals are moving to higher elevations because of the warmer temperatures, I always see a butterfly on every hike--regardless of how high I've climbed. Seeing them always makes my mind jump to Sarah and Rachel Dunn from reading the Fancy Nancy series with Sarah's favorite "Azure Butterflies" and even books like Eric Carle's The Very Hungry Caterpillar. We all know this classic picture book with the caterpillar who spends six days eating. I honestly don't see any problems with that idea right now :) He eats oranges, pears, and plums, and then chocolate cake, ice cream, and pickles. On his seventh day, the very hungry caterpillar eats a single green leaf before spinning a cocoon and separating himself from the world. Finally, the shell of the cocoon begins to crack and a beautiful butterfly is spread across both pages of the book.

All these butterfly stories always make me start thinking about growth. Butterflies are a very cliche example of undergoing the process of change from crawling to cocoons to flight. In the course of our lives, we grow as well. We mature physically from children into adults. Even after reaching our full height, some parts of our bodies (like hair, noses, and ears...) contine to grow our whole lives. Throughout our lives, we should all hope that we mature in other ways too. We can continue to grow intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually.

Every living person undergoes the journey of growth from child to adult. That physical change is guaranteed by biology. The emotional growth needed to become independent is not always so easy. Beginning at that caterpillar stage, we need to be fed and taken care of. Sometime after that, we being to separate. We build a cocoon around ourselves sometime in the early teen years, when we lock ourselves in our rooms and talk to our friends on the phone for hours. SOmetimes the cocoon we need is to go to a college far away from home--in another town, state, or halfway across the country! Then finally, at some point, we break out of that cocoon and spread our wings as adults.

It's easy to fall into the trap of letting your parents help through that time of growth, especially since they are usually willing to give their lives for their children. They spend so many years caring for the every need of their child that it's hard to give that space to build their cocoons. There are the events like science fairs where it can be obvious if a parent helped their child out that make me a little sad. It's like they missed an opportunity to teach responsibility and independence--an amazing chance for growth!

Of course parents should love and care for their children. The swimming lessons of life need to be taught so they can stay afloat, but it's all about the journey and development through life. So often, people are so concerned with the process that they are blind to what the end result is turning out to be.

We are all the caterpillar and the butterfly at the same time. We are all growing. We are in a process of becoming. In some areas of our life, maybe we are the caterpillar, vulnerable and hungry. In some relationships, maybe we are in a cocoon, taking time and space, or doing our best to give it to others. And in some ways, we are fully grown, mature and free, like the butterfly. It is our task to grow and to become and to improve ourselves throughout our whole lives.

Death on Longs Peak

Yesterday during my hike day, I overheard a SAR (Search and Rescue) on my radio. A 62-year-old man had been hiking with his 22-year-old daughter on Longs Peak. That morning was the official declaration that the climb was no longer technical, and quite literally hundreds of people were summiting over the weekend. Apparently, the man had a heart attack near the top and died up there. Listening to the SAR over the radio made everything seem so procedural. I guess that's what needs to happen through radio traffic, but the way he kept being refered to as the "package" sent a chill down my spine every time.

My summit will be one week after his attempt, and I am going to have to be sure to respect nature and not take any part of that journey for granted. I know this was a heart attack and not a slip or slide down the steep face, but these kinds of messages still make me very aware that there is something larger than life that cannot be ignored. This was only the first death up there this season, and I sure don't want to contribute to the next.

Sandy Beaches

In the past two days, I hiked around 26 miles which is awesome but it's necessary in gearing up for this weekend--Longs Peak. John and I have had the date set for over a month now and it's finally here! To give a little background, John is 44 and used to be a climbing teacher back home (Salt Lake City) so I feel super comfortable climbing up with him. We are leaving on Sunday to set up camp at the Boulderfield which is six miles up the trail. After camp is set up, we are planning on summiting Mount Lady Washington and Mount Meeker before calling it the end of day one. Those peaks are both 13ers and don't have trails to the top so the crosscountry travel should be a good workout. Monday morning, we will wake up and summit Longs before the thunderstorms move in while we are 14,000+ feet above sea level.

In preparation, Sunday's hike was a steep climb up to Sandbeach Lake. This lake has been one of my biggest natural surprises so far this summer. The hike was up through the woods with the occassional passing of Hunter Creek. When we finally got to the end, there literally was a sandy beach right in front of us--in the middle of the mountains. It seemed so out of place, but it also seemed like a real life version of my ring that I always wear on my right hand ring finger.

If you haven't seen that ring or maybe you just don't know the symbolism, I got it from my mom for my 21st birthday (last year). It's a Hopi piece with three panels on it rather than the usual pawprints or ocean waves circling around the ring. The left panel has Hopi mountains, the center has corn, and the right side is a wave. To me, the mountains represent my dad because of all our hiking and camping expeditions growing up. The beaches represent my mom because of our San Diego and New Hampshire/Maine trips to different beaches. The corn in the middle is me and represents the growth between the two diffferent parts.


Standing at the outlet of Sandbeach Lake on Sunday was a real life experience of that. As I walked into the clearing, I could feel my dad and mom both in that area and the effects both have on me, both in person and in those situations. The combination of beach and forest in one place threw me for a loop at first, but then the idea seemed calming, almost like an all-encompassing hug or notion that everything can survive in perfect harmony.

Yesterday's hike was to another lake: Lawn Lake. This hike was much longer and more uphill, but I enjoyed the company of Aaron, Conor, and Gehrett. This hike was also much more difficult due to a sprained knee from trail running in the rain on the way back from Sandbeach Lake the day before.

We made it to the lake and decided to do some off-trail hiking around so the boys could fish while I flew my kite. The wind made my kite dance artistically around, and I really had very little control. That was especially the case when it blew the kite into the lake at one point and then off the string at another. I think that was just nature's way of reminding the boys and I who was in charge.

After fishing at bit at Lawn Lake, we hiked further up to the Crystal Lakes. These lakes were hidden at the base of a glacial valley and took a hike almost straight up the mountain to reach. After some boulder-hopping, we looked ahead into the clearest lakes I have seen so far this summer. The cutthroat trout that were swimming around looked huge and the pristine tundra looked almost untouched except for the small trail running through. There's so much beauty everywhere in the park, but these places that are farther into the backcountry are more of a gift since they aren't out where everyone has access. These are the places where Joe Touron doesn't usually reach and are saved as something special for the people who take the time to seek nature's wonder.

Make Way for Ducklings

Aaron came into town Thursday night so Kendall and I met him at the library downtown and went to Ed's for a Mexican-food dinner. The entire experience was like reliving my first night in Estes Park and it's crazy to think how much time has gone by and how much different I feel as a person from that very first night. I had drawn him a map in fun colors of all the places he needed to know in the town and I was really proud of myself for knowing so many different back roads and the number of places of interest!

Last night, he picked me up after work (I was walking all week since my car was in the shop) and we went to get my car back. Afterward, we headed back home, made dinner, ran to Safeway, and headed to the Tree Dance at Barry's house. This party was more than just a BCO party--Barry said he had invited about a hundred people for a birthday celebration of sorts. There were lots of people there and the party really was dancing under a big tree in his front yard. He had it decorated with lights hanging down and carpet on the ground and it felt sort of magical, like a fairy party under a tree.

Speaking of magical, Aaron and I went on a walk after dinner but before Safeway and went down to the trail that starts at the end of my street. We found an open meadow with a great view of the peaks and just sat down on a rock while we soaked it all in. We started talking about religion v. science and other deep issues which are usually hard for us to talk about but something about this place makes everything ok. We talked about how it's crazy that people can be so opinionated that EITHER evolution OR the bible theory are the way that people came to be on this earth. I think there is truth to both sides--there is obvious evidence through science regarding evolution, but then you get into one of those open meadows and know that there is also something bigger than life itself out there that made everything possible.

On the way to Safeway, we saw a mama duck and two ducklings walking across Highway 34. I was worried they were going to get hit, but it reminded me of the book Make Way for Ducklings. In that book, the duckling crossing was a celebrated event that people seemed to want to come see. Here, people stopped and let the ducks safely pass to the other side, similarly to how Aaron gets excited about even seeing a small chipmunk or squirrel. There is something amazing about all of these creatures and their affects on the stressed lives of humans.

I remember another part of our deep talk on the rock yesterday (that rhymes!) about whatever kinds of afterlife are out there. We were talking about death for some reason and Aaron said one of the big differences between us and animals is that (other than elephants for the most part) we have a time of mourning after a loved one dies and put a pause on many aspects of our lives until we can come to terms with what happened. He said that animals just seem to continue on with their lives and not care if one is hit by a car or falls out of a tree. I think that animals actually know more than we think. They understand that they are playing their particular role in the circle of life and know that a death means they have served their purpose. Humans are so concerned with the afterlife and what happens after they die more often than not, that they are afraid about what lies beyond and don't willingly accept death as an option. I like the idea of understanding a purpose has been served and knowing that if death is coming, that really is just a part of the circle of life. Even though you might be dead and don't know what happens necessarily to your spirit, I think it lives in the memories of those left behind. Shouldn't that be enough to not be scared? Knowing that all those memories will keep you alive in the hearts of some?

When we got to the tree dance, the music hadn't started yet but people were hanging out, eating food, drinking, talking, and playing couch darts. I started introducing Aaron to different people and he seemed amazed at the age gap between everyone. As I've said before, our office is made up of people between 17 and 70, or even 80 if you count the volunteers who work. The best part is that we are all peers and coworkers and don't even really think about age, especially when we are hanging out in the office or outside of work.

John (44) and I are preparing for our climb up Longs Peak. This has been one of my biggest goals this summer and I am very excited and nervous that it is happening. One week from tonight, I will be camping at the Boulderfield and preparing for the morning summit. Our plan is to leave Sunday morning and set up camp six miles up at the Boulderfield, then summit the two neighboring peaks across the saddle (Mount Lady Washington and Meeker). The next morning, we will summit Longs and then repel down the north face rather than hike! For me, I am then hiking in to Andrew's Glacier and spending a night at that campsite the next night before heading to work at 10am the following morning. The whole plan is a huge mental game for me, especially considering my uneasy tendencies towards heights and falling. I have been preparing myself as best I can and am going to continue hiking this week to add to the physical preparation. As long as I keep talking myself into the climb and know that I have the ability to succeed regardless of the tricks my mind tries playing on me.

Mission: Christmas Picture 2009

Melinda and Meredith came to visit for my birthday weekend, and it all begin with a trip to the airport to pick them up like I did when Dad came to visit. This time, I brought a book and read rather than looking at the people around me and watching all the reactions of the people waiting and the others coming through the gates and looking to see who is waiting for them. We spent the first half of the day in Denver around the 16th street mall which brought back memories with Colin, Audra, Krystal, and Brian last year when we were in Denver for the International Horn Symposium. After Denver, the three of us headed to Boulder to run some errands, teach Meredith how to change windshield wipers, and get groceries for the weekend.

We headed home and endeavoured to have our first BBQ ever by ourselves. Unfortunately, Mother Nature had another plan for us and sent in a thunderstorm before the bratwursts were cooked. We ran outside to save them and cover the charcoal with foil so we could use it the next night. Instead, we moved inside and made shell pasta with a salad and strawberries and enjoyed it out on the porch. It was great just sitting out, watching the sunset, and eating dinner together--just the three of us. This is just the beginning of our flights to go visit each other, and that's kind of exciting.

After dinner, we headed downtown to enjoy some of the nightlife on the streets. In the typical old-fashioned way of the town, we got ice cream and walked down the street to the water wheel where we just soaked in the beauty of the starry night before heading back to the car.

The next morning, we woke up, coordinated matching outfits in hopes of the perfect Christmas picture and headed to Glenn Haven for the amazing cinnamon rolls. (You need to understand that we are rarely all three together during the year, so we take advantage of the times we are in hopes of getting a picture for the Christmas cards mom sends out each year.) After breakfast, we embarked on a journey similar to day 1 with Dad. We headed in the Fall River Road Entrance towards the 12,00+ ft top of the peaks on Trail Ridge Road. Our mission was to see some Big Horn Sheep since that was the only animal I hadn't seen yet that I wanted to this summer and sure enought, about thirty were waiting for us at Sheep Lakes. I let them hop out of the car since there wasn't any room to park and let them take pictures for me as I strained to see the big horns of the amazing creatures. I circled around to get them and we continued our drive to the top.

With Dad, I was the tour guide and gave him all sorts of information about the park history and life-zone structures. With Melinda and Goog, I let them tell me what they knew and told them where to find answers to my questions in different maps, newspapers, and brouchures I stuck in the car. This way, they had ownership to what they were learning and it had a better chance of staying with them for longer than that car ride. We stopped a few places along the way to have some pictues taken and finally made it to the top as it started to rain.

We explored the gift shops, took some more pictures, and headed to my work where I showed them the rocks and the ropes. Finally, we headed home for lunch where there was a different surprise waiting for us. We brought our sandwiches, chips, strawberries, and lemonade out on the porch for the perfect summer lunch when I spotted Norman (our resident badger) walking up the driveway. Melinda and Meredith freaked out, screamed a little, grabbed the food so he wouldn't climb up to the balcony?, and ran inside. We watched him for a little while as he circled to the back of the house and out to the front again, and I finally convinced them it was safe to go out to the car so we could be tourons together downtown.

We shopped for a while and rented Harry Potter V on the way home in hopes of catching up before the pending release. We had success with the BBQ and brats with squash for dinner and settled in to watch the movie. That's when the boys came over. Connor, Derek, Kasey, and Scott came by to meet Mind and Mere and we ended up just talking and hanging out on the porch all night. Melinda and Meredith went in around 11:30pm, Scott and Connor headed out a little after midnight because they had to work at 6:00am, and Kasey and Derek left around 1:00am when we decided we should call it a night since they were working in the morning too. It is so nice sitting around with guys and being able to act like myself without trying to impress anyone!

The next morning, Mind and Mere woke me up because they wanted cinnamon rolls again. We drove out to get them and then headed in to the park to do the 1/2 mile "hike" around Bear Lake before heading back for lunch and Harry Potter. After the movie, they packed up and we headed back to the airport. The whole weekend was just nice. I don't know any other way to put it. It's just so nice to be friends with my sisters as corny as that sounds. The fact that they flew out just to see me and that we got along the whole weekend without getting into any fights just makes me so optimistic about the years to come with our relationship as it matures.

I have been noticing more and more how much less meticulous my natural observations have been, similarly to the airport situation this time around. I wonder if I am just getting comfortable here and taking too much for granted, but that worries me. I sit outside on the porch like I am doing right now and don't take as many pictures. I am not sure if that is because I am realizing the pictures don't do the views justice, or maybe it's the more likely reason that I am starting to expect these amazing views every night. I need to continue to slow things down--I've been doing pretty well with that so far this summer. I need to make sure I am soaking everything up around me since I go home in less than a month at this point. When I realized that this morning, I was in complete shock. There is still so much I want to be doing in the park and so many places I still want to be exploring. I only have two scheduled hike days left, and with so many people coming to visit, it's hard to hike on my own and see all the hidden gifts these mountains have to offer.

Musicially speaking, this is the least I have cared about my performances since as far back as I can remember. I am not even disappointed that I am musically unmotivated--I am disappointed that I don't care about the lack of motivation. I finally got to the point tonight that I got my horn out for my regular routine and opened all my doors and windows since I was the only one home. I played my excerpts and solos without caring who was outside listening and ended with the Don Juan call which I heard echoing off the mountain back behind me.

Maybe this accustomation and lack of motivation to my "past habits" is what happens with religion too. I have been wondering a lot if when people are having troubles in their life or are introduced into new situations, they look even stronger for guidance and signs all around them. Once they are situated though adn feeling comfortable, they aren't as aware of the continuous presence. Looking around, I know it's still here but I am not noticing it as much if that makes any sense. I'm not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing. It might be bad that I don't see the obvious signs standing out, but maybe it's good that they are finally blending into my life where they belong. The Methodist Church here is right on the side of a mountain with a huge window at the front of the sanctuary looking up to it. It's still the views like that that are a constant reminder, regardless of whether or not I am noticing that.

Little Things

I wasn't expecting much of an exciting birthday today, but unexpected pleasantries kept arising. Tonight's post is just going to be bullet points of today's highlights because I need to sleep before getting Meredith and Melinda from the airport in the morning.

• BBQ Last Night w/ Kendall, Connor, Derek, Patrick, and Kasey
• Rice Krispy Treats
• Cake from Andree
• 2 Megans=1 John, 2 Megans=3 Walts, Vics, or Dales
• Lost and Found Electronic System I Created Working
• Phone Calls and Messages
• Salt Water Taffy from Maine in the Mail
  
• 27 Dresses
• Reeces PB Cups
• Thai Food
• Unexpected Date
• Sunset
• Connor, Derek, Patrick, and Kasey Visit
• Beers on the Porch
• Lightning Storm
• Cloud Pictures
• Thoughts About the Coming Weekend with Melinda and Meredith
  

Last Day of Age 21

It's always nice to look back on the past year as another birthday approaches, and this year is no different. Every year I think I have grown more and more, and again this year is no different. Even in the past two months, I feel I have grown more and understand myself more now than ever before. All these moments of self reflection seem to be closer and closer together and I love getting to know myself and appreciate what I am finding.

In the past two months, I have learned to be completely independent and self-sufficient and am supporting myself entirely on my own for the first time in my life. I have learned to break out of my comfort levels and push myself to meet new people, drive along the edge of a road with a 12,000+ drop down both sides without getting scared. I have learned that it's ok to dance even if you don't know how, call people to hang out even if you are afraid of their rejection, and hike to get away from any stress levels that possibly rise. I have learned the importance of staying in touch with people back home and that even though I am 800+ miles from Flagstaff right now, part of me can still be there and here at the same time.

I also learned this year many important values about love and relationships. My birthday night last year ended with Eric taking care of me after my first legal night out in the bars. We were in love and had plans for our future and beyond. Since then, things have grown apart between us, I sort of started seeing someone else, and now I am perfectly content being single for the first time basically since the beginning of high school. I have realized this year that in order to know myself and know what it is that I want/need to complete that area of my life cannot be found until I truly know myself.

Last night, Aubrey and I went to Andree and Dave's house to meet the dog we are watching on two separate weekends coming up. Andree works in our office and is around seventy years old. She has been married at least twice, and had quite an interesting life of moving all around the country and experiencing different people. Watching the love between her and Dave just amazed me last night and reminded me of the love my grandparents share. They say how completely blessed they are to have found each other and for everything that happened during their lives to have happened and led them to each other.

I firmly believe that everything happens for a reason, more so this year than ever before. I also am realizing that I can love myself completely right now and don't have to fill any "holes" just so I feel like I am a successful human being. I am realizing that in year 22, I am going to live each day in the present and not force things to happen or even look diligently for a miracle. Instead, I am going to rejoice in each day I am given and if something comes along my way, I will grab on for whatever ride that passing chance will lead me to before I miss the opportunity.

Bumper Stickers and Fly Fishing

Yesterday, I decided it was time to go out on a limb and broaden my horizons. I got the guts up the night before to ask a couple guys who work at the YMCA to go on my hike day with me and when they showed up, they brought their fly fishing rods along with one for me. I should have known better—their job at the Y is to take out groups for fishing trips and classes. They don’t even actually work for the Y, they work for a company called Sasquatch Fly Fishing which is just based out of the YMCA.

We met up at 7:15am and headed over Trail Ridge Road. We finally got to the trailhead at 9:00am and I radioed ROMO to let them know 206Oechsner was “entering the backcountry travel plan.” Unfortunately, I found out that while I was over two hours away from the BCO, I could hear everything on the radio but they couldn’t hear a single thing I was saying. I had a little cell service so I called Dispatch to let them know I wouldn’t be in signal range for the day but that I was starting my hike anyway.

We made it the seven miles to Lake Verna: our destination of the day. Connor (23) and Scott (21) immediately put down their bags and unpacked the fishing rods, including the one for me. Scott started out while Connor finished setting me up and caught at least three fish before I was even done learning how to cast from Connor. When I was finally done, I caught a fish on one of my very first casts! Then came the nervous part for me—getting it off!

I squealed out of excitement and nervousness that I caught one but that there was no way one of them was going to make me touch it. Connor came over and landed the fish for me but they said I would have to do the next one. After it was put back in the water, Scott caught another and ran over to make me touch it. I screamed but Connor was holding me down and they wiped it on my arm. It was incredibly slimy. I told them that that wasn’t fair since I didn’t catch that fish but I would at least touch the next one I did catch. I caught two more and pet them both.

I’m not really sure how much good it does to pet a fish, and I wondered if it could even feel the pet or if it was just too nervous from being out of water with a sharp hook stuck in its mouth. That’s always been my issue with fishing in general—what is the point in catching a fish just to throw it back in if it causes the animal so much pain? I don’t think it’s fair to them since they don’t know what is happening. The fish are just looking for a snack, and end up being tricked out of the water.

Most fishers don’t even think about what harm their hobby does to the fish. You can drive down the road anywhere in the country and see bumper stickers that read, “Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you can get rid of him for the weekend,” or “Men and Fish are alike—they both get into trouble when they open their mouths.” Other times, the bumper sticker is just a simple phrase: “I’d rather be fishing.”

You always see those “I’d rather be…” bumper stickers. Some people use their bumpers to express how they’d rather be at the beach, the golf course, or in some warmer, sunnier climate. No matter where we are if we have that sticker or not, we all daydream of being somewhere else. Why not? It’s fun to dream and put bumper stickers on our car. I am even putting more stickers on Roxanne, like an NPS logo and the usual ROMO letter in the black oval, which if you know me and the way I take care of my care is a BIG deal.

The thing that I realize with all of the “I’d rather be…” bumper stickers is that they are all futuristic thoughts rather than people just thinking about what they have in the present. In thinking about that, I realized that my stickers are in the present. I am working for the National Park Service and living in Rocky Mountain National Park. Rather than thinking about being somewhere else, I am focusing on where I am (physically and mentally) and trying not to miss anything important or amazing that is happening in front of my eyes.

Sometimes this happens to me on a plane, when I am “stuck” in the air for hours and I just think of the hours that are wasted by sitting in the air for hours upon hours. I am just trying to get somewhere else and often too busy to be in the present and look out at the beautiful set of clouds or the sunset through the window. On the trip back from China, I journaled for about five hours straight, but then spent my sleepless night (it is almost impossible for me to sleep on a plane) listening to the people around me. I could hear a young girl talking about how excited she was to see her nana again. I could see the darkness of the ocean outside when one man opened his window and felt the peace of the sleeping Earth below me. Being present just makes me feel like I can appreciate the small miracles of everyday, especially here this summer.

I think there is another element to the present: being there for those you care about. In our multi-tasking, cell-phone, internet world it is sometimes hard to be present for our family and friends even if they are sitting right next to us. I hate seeing the people out to dinner who spend half the time on their cell phones, sending texts or checking the score of a game.

I am definitely not immune to this and have caught myself upon occasion doing this as well. Sometimes I will be at home with Kendall watching The Office (we are on season four!) and we won’t have even talked about our day yet. After too much of this, I realize we have missed our opportunity to connect.

Bill Murray learned how to be present in the movie Groundhog Day, when he was forced to relive the same day over and over again. In the movie, he lives in a prison of presentness. At first, he enjoys not having a tomorrow, eating whatever he wants without worrying about weight-gain, and getting into trouble without consequences. Then he becomes desperate. He finally learns the lesson of being present and uses the days to help others. He connects with a woman and they fall in love (typical Hollywood-style) and he appreciates all the small things he can do and see in the world. Finally, he wakes up to a new day and begins his life anew.

We do not have to be stuck in the same day to learn the lesson of being present. We need only to stop spending so much time dreaming of being somewhere else or not paying attention to each other. Then, we can discover the small miracles around us and find ways to connect to those we love.

Maybe instead of getting one of those “I’d rather be…” bumper stickers (although they might be true) people should start investing in something that reads: “I’d rather be right where I am.”

Check Engine Light

Today was another day off and I finally finished the China scrapbook--exactly 100 pages! I headed out later in the afternoon to head to Boulder to get some page inserts to complete the entire thing, and my "check engine" light turned on in Roxanne (my car) about five miles outside of Estes. I pulled over on the side of the road to turn her off and then back on again and the light was still there so I headed back to town and decided to save the trip for another day.

When that light comes on, different people respond in different ways. There are some who are blinded by the light and completely stop everything until the problem is fixed, and then you have the opposite end of the spectrum where people completely ignore it until their car shuts down because it wasn't cared for properly.

It's just a tiny rectangle hidden among the gauges clustered on the dashboard near the steering wheel. When everything is well, it is blank and seemingly invisible. Then one day, unexpectedly and unaccountable, it glows that yellow-orange color and commands, "check engine." Drivers are trained to respond to this sort of mechanical order. When lights flash "low fuel," they hurry to a gas station. When a tiny indicator speaks of inadequate oil pressure, they add oil. But what about this light? Especially when (as in my case) the engine shows no obvious signs of malfunction or anything other than its usually content humming. How do you check for a problem and what do you check?

In my eyes, this isn't an immediate problem that indicates the necessity to drop everything at once until it's fixed. It's a warning of a looming disaster, but nothing that is immediate. It's too bad there isn't a "check engine" light in life--something physically there to warn of similar looming disasters and give time to respond before it's too late. It is never good to be constantly paranoid, but if there was some indicator of a potential disaster, hesitation would prevent a possible catastrophe. I guess there is a light of sorts though that helps guide through these times. That's where the idea of faith comes into play--both with a car and with life. If you have faith, you can count on getting where you need to go before the situation goes awry.

Tomorrow I have a fourteen mile hike day on the West Side. That means I have to drive over Trail Ridge Road. This is the highest road in the National Parks system, topping out at over 12,000ft before the ride back down. I'm a little apprehensive, but hopefully everything will go ok. Scott and Connor (two of the YMCA guys) are coming along, so at least I won't be completely stranded. At least Roxanne gave me a warning so I am alert enough to not send her over a cliff. The thing to look out for both with Roxanne and in my life is to make sure I don't drive around too long with that light on before I go in to understand the problem more thoroughly.

Venezuelans, Italians, and La Bamba

Before I left for work yesterday, Christina brought up the idea of having a BBQ afterward since she had the day off and nothing to do. Needless to say, when I got home around 7:30 last night, there were about twenty people over in the backyard. We had margaritas and a typical vegetarian cook-out in the backyard with people ranging from around my age to the late forties. Among these people was Jim Dedderline--a legend here in Estes and apparently in other countries and areas of the world. He is known for many things, for example playing a role in over 1,000 SARs (Search and Rescue Missions) in RMNP and he has been struck by lightning three times, and he summits Long's Peak every month of the year in a particular pair of jeans (even in the winter, without long underwear!). Jim has worked in the park for twenty-five years and seems to know everyone, but he also climbs all over the world and seems to know everyone in areas he's been too.

Last night, he brought along a bunch of people, including two men from Venezuela and a woman from Italy. Now, only one of the men still lives in Venezuela and the other man and woman are married and live in Spain. They all speak Spanish and very broken English, but I am loving that I can still communicate with them. I am impressed with myself for being able to understand everything they are saying--it's just the speaking that is coming along harder. I guess that is to be expected since I don't get much practice though.

After the BBQ last night, we all headed out and went to The Rock for our usual Friday night fun, drinking, and dancing along to the Bluegrass Band of the night. Last night was definitely no exception for any of that and I love that I am dancing more and more by myself or with other people. (I was also impressed with myself for not having to buy a single drink :).) When we finally decided to leave, we realized the driving was very limited because of the margaritas at our place and the consumption at The Rock. We managed to squeeze thirteen people into Jim's van and embarked on the journey home. We were all in great moods and enjoying thinking about that night's festivities when Manola (the Venezuelan who now lives in Spain) began singing La Bamba. Everyone in the car joined along and added different car-percussion accompaniments. That fifteen minute drive home with a group of a dozen people from completely different places in life and in the world getting together to sing a simple song just really hit me.

La Bamba was one of the very first Spanish songs that took off in the States, and I thought it was very fitting for the group of people. The basic translation of the song mentions that in order to dance La Bamba, a little bit of humor is needed from everyone involved and as you dance faster and faster, I am the captain, not the sailor. It really is such a simple song with just about seven lines that are repeated, but it was all that was needed to bring that random group of people together for the ride back to our house.

This morning, I woke up in Kendall's bed (we let some of the guys crash around the house so we slept in sleeping bags on her bed together since it's bigger) to the sound of bird's trying to get into the beer bottles that were left outside on the picnic table. I got out of bed to clean it up and chase them away and then fell asleep for a little longer since I had the day off. When I finally woke up, I showered, cleaned up the house, and scrapbooked a little before Christina got home so we could head out to the Fourth of July YMCA BBQ.

The BBQ was about forty-five minutes away at a house in the middle of nowhere with the mountains as the backyard. We ate, drank, and played volleyball until leaving to go see Jim's house. When we were getting the tour of the house, Jim showed us his animal rescue where he has over a dozen turtles (including a HUGE snapper), a rattlesnake, a cobra, and a CROCODILE! We left his house after the tour so he could go play trumpet in the Estes Park "Village Band" Fourth of July concert and so we could go listen.

It poured almost all day today, and the concert was no exception. We sat on the rock steps and soaked through our jeans as the rain beat down on our jackets and we sipped hot chocolate to try and stay warm. The weather got better as the concert went on, and I realized how much I really do miss music as an everyday occurrence. I think going to the concert was really good for me because I know that I can do the park thing and have music as a constant in my life at the same time. I found myself conducting with the American Flag I was holding or fingering along to tunes I have played before and it was a nice feeling knowing that I miss that stuff. After the concert, I went up and talked to the two horn players and one of the conductors and I am now going to be a member of the "Village Band!" This will be great Colorado networking and a fun incentive to be playing, other than my regular practicing.

After the concert, we got invited to go with Jim and "The Venezuelans" to a house on the lake that one of the band members owns to watch the fireworks away from the crowds. We ate, watched the fireworks, then talked for hours with people from age nineteen to eighty. That's one of my favorite things about the park--it doesn't matter how old you are to talk with people. Everyone is a peer of everyone else despite age because of the span in the working environment. I talked with Francesca (the lady from Italy, now in Spain, married to Manolo) for a while and she encouraged me to speak more Spanish with Christina at home. Manolo also told us lots of stories, including encounters with Cesar Chavez! It was so interesting to hear about different culture experiences and they all offered their homes to us whenever we are traveling in one of those countries!

The fireworks were spectacular and the experiences with La Bamba, the community band, and talking about different cultures are the sorts of things that make me never want to leave this magical place.