Arches over Moab

We left Portland on a Tuesday night and headed east.  Our plan was to camp at a state park on the Oregon/Idaho border, get up super early and then drive on Wednesday to Moab, Utah so we could check out Arches National Park.  

Let me just say that the drive from Ontario, Oregon to Moab, Utah will take you all day.  All. Day. We rolled into Moab around 11pm on Wednesday night, way past our estimated arrival time.  We had wanted to catch Arches in the evening light, but alas, it was not to be.  So, we decided to make it to the park early in the morning.

Early in the morning at a National Park definitely has its benefits.  You get shots like this:

This area is called Park Avenue.

Or this, of Bryan hiking up the slickrock trail to Delicate Arch.

Delicate Arch.  One of those things that I've seen photos of a thousand times.  It is so much different when you see first-hand for yourself.

More shots of the park:

The Huskers Return

Every summer, over Labor Day weekend, my parents head to Lincoln to meet up with their college friends.  When we were little, we always played a round of mini-golf and then headed over to a park to gorge ourselves on Valentino's Pizza.  They have been out of college for 36 years, but this tradition has stayed firm.  The destination in Lincoln has changed-- the East campus Union, the nearest Valentino's restaurant-- but the date and purpose always stay the same.  Labor Day Sunday.  Eat pizza.  Talk.  Talk some more.

My college friends and I have started the same kind of tradition.  Since we graduated, we've all moved to different parts of the country-- Jody and Travis to Portland, Gwen and Matt to Minneapolis, Karen and Tony to Norfolk, and Liz and Tom to Albuquerque.  But, we've still managed to see each other at least once every summer.  The destination always changes, but the purpose stays the same.  Eat.  Drink.  Talk.  Talk some more.  

I've been blogging about my "real" vacation this summer, a road trip to New Mexico.  B and I just got back from our eight day adventure on Wednesday afternoon.  It was just another installment in our new tradition.  

Since B and I drove to ABQ, I'm going to try and divide up the trip into several posts.  So, sit back, relax, and watch the Huskers return.

On this day in 1974...

...my honey-bunny husband entered this world.

We celebrated by eating way too much Mexican food and then riding our bikes home from the Mexican joint way too late.

Happy #34 babe. 

Jules Designs

So, remember this bag?

Well, now you can buy one.  Jules Designs has officially gone public.

www.julesdesigns.etsy.com

Have a look around Julia's store.  B took the photos with help from the lovely modeling of Julia and Katie.  Enjoy!

Find rock. Will climb.

Another sunny Sunday and we had a hankerin' for some climbin'. Only problem is that the rock climbin' we like to do is a pretty good drive from Beaverton. Not at all helping with the whole, saving-gas-money-so-we-can-make-it-to-New-Mexico situation.

I had heard some people at work talking about this pretty cool crag in.... oh, sorry, can't tell you where it is, certain people at work might slash my tires. Anyway, it's about 20 minutes from our place and we met our friend Erin at the "really cool crag" on Sunday afternoon to put up some climbs.

This is Erin sending the bottom of a really difficult route.  Thanks to my FLAs (freakishly long arms), we didn't have to lead it and I just reached around the rock and put up two more draws for a second anchor.
B about halfway up.  Check out his most excellent heel hook and his impressive guns.
Me, on belay in the sun.  I am a teensy bit sunburned and man, does it feel good!

Oh, did I forget to mention that this rock is down by the tracks?  

Compromise. Really?

Everyone says that marriage is all about compromise.  Give and take.  Pick your battles, they say. You know what I say?  "If you would just stop freaking out for second, everything will work out." 

For B's birthday (#34 on the 17th), we bought a new desk off craigslist.  Which meant that we had to rearrange our office/spare bedroom/gear storage room.  Which meant we started to think about whether or not we wanted to keep certain things.  Like the old, beat-up printer cart that Bryan has had for years.  Or the crazy floor lamp that just "doesn't go."  

And when we got rid of the printer cart, we moved the filing cabinet, which meant we had to move the bookshelf over to where the floor lamp was.  Which meant, naturally, that we had to get rid of the floor lamp.  But what were we to do for light?  Ah, enter the "compromise."

Well, I'm very happy to say that B's awesome lamp is now standing tall, ugly and proud on the dresser in our office/spare bedroom/gear storage room.  It actually looks pretty good in this room.  Yes, I admit it.  See, everything worked out.  B's lamp is happy in its new room.  You didn't think I would actually make him get rid of it did you?

Feeling thankful

... that the Portland weather is dreary, but not dropping inches of water every day on rain soaked fields.

... that my windy days are not tornadoes.

... that my apartment is high on a hill far away from rivers that could jump riverbanks.

... that my family in the midwest is safe and dry tonight.

The longest winter. Ever.

Ok, it's officially getting out of hand. It snowed on Mt. Hood today. It's June and it snowed about a foot on Mt. Hood today and it was 23 degrees at Timberline Lodge. Trucks in eastern Oregon are chaining up to make it through the mountain passes. The high temp in Portland is supposed to only be 57.

I read in the paper last week that Oregon has on average, 9 rainy days in June. It's June 10th. It didn't rain on Sunday. You do the math.

Maybe we'll go skiing on Friday.............

The intruder

I. hate. this. lamp.

Well, hate is really a strong word. I don't like this lamp. This lamp does not like me. No one should like this lamp. My husband on the other hand, loves this lamp. B found it at Goodwill (apparently someone else did not like this lamp) a couple of months ago and it has been sitting, shadeless, in our spare bedroom.

Yesterday, he bought a new lampshade for another lamp in the apartment so this monstrosity could have the other lamp's lampshade and be moved to the table on his side of the bed.

He turned and said to me: "See, it has a shade now."

To which I replied, "That doesn't make it any less ugly."
B came back with, "Someday, this lamp will save your life. Someday, there might be an intruder and this lamp will be the first thing you pick up to defend yourself."

I think the lamp is the intruder.

Anyway, I'm putting it up for a vote. Who likes this lamp?

Wait, let me rephrase. Who likes this lamp enough that you would want to have it sitting on the night stand next to your bed, next to the picture of your gorgeous wife on her wedding day, and across the room from your really beautiful dresser?

Anyone?

Sky Show

The "near-cation"

Anyone heard of the term "near-cation" lately?  Those in the retail world have been throwing it around to try and explain the way people are taking vacations this summer (and how they are spending their money in preparation).  Not surprisingly, the high cost of gas is forcing some of those folks to vacation NEAR their homes this summer.  Thus, the "near-cation."

B and I have apparently been practicing "near-cationers" for awhile now.  We're headed out at the end of June on our real vacation for the summer (off to New Mexico to spend some time with some of my best girls) so we've been trying to keep the small, short weekend adventures close to home (so we can afford the gas for the real vacation). We've spent a lot of time at our local tennis court lately and have been riding circles on the side streets of southwest Beaverton on our bikes.  

Today, the sun finally made an appearance after a long, dreary, gray week.  Sunday = funday.

The Grand Lodge

The first stage of death

I think I'm dying a slow, wet death. Seriously, it will not stop raining. I haven't seen the sun since Saturday. 5 days ago! I can handle this kind of weather in the winter only because it always means that it's snowing and the skiing will be fantastic. But in May? Nothing about 5 straight days of rain and clouds in May is fantastic.

10-Day Forecast High / Low (°F) Precip. % Tonight May 29 Mostly Cloudy 50° 10 % Fri May 30 Partly Cloudy 71°/52° 20 % Sat May 31 Few Showers 71°/53° 30 % Sun Jun 01 Partly Cloudy 69°/50° 20 % Mon Jun 02 Mostly Sunny 69°/54° 20 % Tue Jun 03 Few Showers 64°/57° 30 % Wed Jun 04 Few Showers 64°/51° 30 % Thu Jun 05 Few Showers 65°/55° 30 % Fri Jun 06 Showers 64°/54° 60 % Sat Jun 07 Showers 65°/52° 60 % Last Updated May 29 08:09 p.m. PT

By the numbers

Memorial Day weekend by the numbers:
Days off: 5
Days the weathermen got the forecast right: 0
Movies watched: 6
Miles biked: 10.2
Farmer's markets visited: 1
Weddings photographed: 1
Miles hiked: 5.4
Waterfalls viewed: 7
Hours of sunshine all weekend: about 8
Price of a gallon of gas at the Chevron near our house: $3.99

Wrenchin'

I had the chance to volunteer at the Community Cycling Center this week and wrench on some old donated bikes for a couple of hours. We were trying to salvage parts from some junkers that had been donated.

The CCC partners with REI to collect donated bikes, refurbish them and then sell them in their shop or give them away to folks in the community through their many different programs. We were going through the worst of those donations and saving what we wanted (usually just reflectors and handle bars), recycling what we could (tubes and chains) and scrapping the rest.

A good night of demolition is always good for the soul.

Here's me about to cut the lock off a bike we were stripping for scrap metal.Me heaving a frame into the scrap metal bin.

Let's Go Camping!

One of my favorite REI-sponsored programs is Let's Go Camping. We partner with Oregon State Parks to take families camping for the first time. Maybe they camped when they were kids or before they had kids, or maybe they had never slept in a tent outside before. We provide the expertise and the gear, Oregon State parks provides the outdoors.

Last weekend, in the blistering 90 degree temps, we took 35 people camping at Milo McIver State Park for the very first time. It was a blast.

Here is the group on a scavenger hunt hike-- we taught them all how to use a compass:Three of the cuties, Kaitlyn, Maryam, & the back of Violet's head.We had a wide range of ages, ethnicities and camping abilities and the weekend was a huge success. When you can watch some kids eat a s'more for the first time and get paid to do it, you know you have a great job.

On a side note:
When I think about the obstacles companies like REI face in our effort to get more people enjoying the outdoors, the first thing that comes to mind is technology. We are competing with TVs/cell phones/computers/MySpace/video games for their attention. REI needs to think of new ways of making our seemingly low technology "old-fashioned" pursuits, relevant to today's generation of tech-savvy outdoor enthusiasts. One way to do this is with an activity known as geocaching.For those of you who know your way around the woods and don't need a gadget to tell you where to go (anyone see the episode of "The Office" where Michael drives his car into the lake because the GPS "told him to"?), geocaching is basically a big scavenger hunt with a GPS.

The photo above is my first geocache. Wendi is to the left, Bob to the right. Bob is an avid geocacher and knew of several caches around our campsite over the weekend. I happen to think it is uber-geeky, but it is a hobby that is growing fast in this country and if it is getting people off their couches and into the outdoors, then I enthusiastically support it.

King on the Mountain

Ever play "king on the mountain" when you were a kid? My brothers and I used to do it all the time. It didn't matter what "the mountain" was-- a pile of dirt, an actual hill, the back of the couch, a big rock-- we would scramble our way to the top and proclaim, "I'm the king on the mountain!" with our little arms thrust up in the air.

Well, in the big game of King on the Mountain, I finally concede victory to Scott, the eldest of the Olson siblings. Here's Scott on the summit of Mt. Hood early Tuesday morning:I'm not standing next to him because B and I turned around early. We got up to the area called "The Hog's Back" and we both decided to call it quits. Call us wimps, or pansies, or whatever you like, but we both weren't feeling it Tuesday morning. Scott, you win. You so win.

Some more shots from the climb:

In the snowcat ready for our ride up to the top of the ski lifts.By the light of three headlamps.......Scott in the back, then me, Bryan bringing up the team right behind Geoff.Those two black dots are Scott and Geoff, traversing The Hog's Back.The view up The Hog's Back, Geoff getting out the gear to rope Scott up.Scott, just below the summit, looking back down the south side of the mountain. Me, hiking back down.
The "quitters" unite for a photo before we start our descent. Like I've said so many times before, whatever we do, we do together.
Ever since Tuesday morning, I've been agonizing over my failed summit. It was supposed to be this great sibling moment for Scott and me. Braving the climb together, making our Naval submarine-bound little brother insanely jealous. But I wimped out, turned around, quit.

I'm normally a fairly hard-core girl-- I've summited Mt. Hood before, summited Mt. St. Helens, hiked the Wildwood trail, 32 miles end-to-end in one day, suffered through one excruciatingly long, wet 14 mile hike in the Trapper Creek Wilderness. But for some reason, after we stopped to eat just below the Hog's Back, I suddenly didn't want to be there. I wasn't tired-- I had actually slept really well scrunched in the back of the jeep. My body/muscles/joints felt fine-- contrary to popular belief, I am in pretty good shape right now. I just didn't feel right. My breath was getting super short and shallow, my head hurt, and to be perfectly honest, I was scared. I'm not sure of what because I knew exactly what to expect and trust Geoff completely to take care of us. I just didn't feel right.

I should really be proud of myself for knowing my limits and calling it when I did. But that little adventurous part of my heart aches.

I'm super proud of Scott. Just like he used to do when we were kids, he did something that made me think, "yep, that's my brother, that guy right there, the awesome one."