My Year in Feet

Although my transitional effort to wear more minimal shoes, could be described as nothing more than half-assed, the results have astounded me.  One year ago, after a few months in Guatemala of envying a friend’s pair and convincing myself, mentally, that they would fix all my problems, I bought a pair of Vibram Five Fingers. 

I donned them around Denver for the month of March between snow storms primarily for dog walking and casual dress.  I continued to run in my bulky Asics road shoes.  It felt awesome to have the Vibrams on.  I instantly felt lighter and more ninja-like.  It seemed passively therapeutic.  My pinkie toe was the only resistance as it has lived under the toe next to it all my life and in the Vibrams is stretched out on its own.  A little seperation anxiety, I guess.

I spent the spring in South Lake Tahoe and again wore them sporadically between snow storms and for some of my housekeeping shifts.  As the weather got nicer they proved perfect for kayaking and paddle boarding. Finally, I started running short distances on the pavement in them, but still primarily wore the old road running shoes.

For my first few runs in the Vibrams I just ran two miles.  It felt unbelievably awesome.  I had been focusing on my posture and bio-mechanics, but with these shoes on it moved from a mental projection to my natural technique.  The road I lived on was windy with steep little rolling hills.  On the downhills my legs turned over so fast to protect my feet, I could hardly believe it.  I felt like a deer. 

I then made that mistake that I’ve heard many have also made.  Feeling so good in them, I over-ambitiously went from running two or three miles to eleven one day.  I was so excited to run on a trail that was finally snow free.  Everything felt incredibly grand until I hit the pavement for the final three miles home.  I tip-toed the last few miles thinking I might have to crawl.  My feet and calves hurt so bad the next few days, I could barely work.  I was starting to worry I had really hurt something, when after two or three days things started loosening up and I could tell everything was just really tight. 

After that episode I was scared to make that mistake again and stuck to a couple of miles at a time.  I then finally replaced my running shoes with a pair of running flats I found at an Addidas Outlet Store nearby that was having a tent sale.  I found exactly what I was hoping for; an extremely minimal running flat.  The only problem was that the only pair I found seemed way to big.  They felt good width-wise, so for $20 I went for it.  They turned out to be perfect.  Although too long, they felt better than any shoe I have ever worn.  I am now convinced I have always worn shoes that are too small (subconsciously trying to hide my jumbo, disproportionate feet).  I wore these shoes the rest of spring, all of summer and most of fall.  Through dozens of 20+ mile efforts, on super technical trails they held together.  They are still in one piece actually, but I got a new pair of Nike Lunarlites, also from outlet store, in the fall, to try a little more shoe.  These have a slightly thicker sole, but are still ultra light. 

It was very early on that I noticed results.  In the spring I stopped feeling lower back pain, an affliction I have suffered for over 14 years (stemming from a fractured tailbone).  This cure may also be attributed to a kidney cleanse I did at the same time, targeted at my lower back.  Unfortunately, I didn’t isolate the two treatments to determine if it was one or both that led to the disappearance of pain, but its gone.  It is the single most noticeable change I have ever created in my body.  And it happened so fast.  I went from having to take a couple days off every three or four weeks because my back would tighten up to not having the slightest feeling of pain in my back.  It gave me the confidence and realization that I can change anything in my body no matter how long it has been the way it is.  At the same time a four-year-old mild, but nagging, foot pain vanished, only to return whenever I put my feet in shoes with arch support.  It is really astonishing.

The other major, noticeable change is that my feet are longer now.  Not really what I was hopping for, but I’m happy to see my toes spreading out from the scruchieness that I subjected them to the last 28 years.  I already wore an 11 in womens.  Now I’m closer to a 12. 

I continued to wear the Vibrams through the summer, but mostly for non-running ventures.  My running became pretty inconsistent through the summer months of festival hopping and traveling.  I would go on a few really far runs a few times a weeks with no running in between.  I didn’t feel comfortable wearing the Vibrams on long runs.  And it became difficult to keep them clean enough to wear when living in the van.  After three of four days in them, I can’t stand how bad they smell and usually take a few days to address the problem. 

I initially thought deciding upon winter in the high country was sentencing the Vibrams to a winter in the closet.  I feared a bio-mechanical backslide as I was going to need to wear boots and more foot protection from the elements.  Luckily, I am able to wear the Vibrams to work in.  Unable to find a more protecting, yet minimal sole shoe for running in the winter, I’ve continued to wear the Lunarlites in the snow.  I just wear super thick polypro socks to keep my feet warm enough. 

My backsliding fears were in vain.  I have been able to continually improve my posture and bio-mechanics through the winter, although hints of my foot problem have resurfaced.  I am attributing that to ski boots, both downhill and cross country, which seem to directly correlate with the pain (more of a slight uncomfortableness).  It turns out I didn’t learn my lesson and again got over-ambitious and ran five miles in the Vibrams on a treadmill one day.  I couldn’t run for a week.  Hopefully, I got it through my thick skull that I need to ease into them, but that remains to be seen.

Overall, this whole process has amazed me.  While I was hoping this would fix some little tweaks I was suffering, I was not excepting this noticeable of a transition.   I have inspired myself.  The dream of perfect bio-mechanics is definitely attainable.  I highly recommend addressing your footwear if you have any bio-mechanical glitches.  Just learn from my mistakes and take it slow.    

Perpetual Beginner

Being a beginner at anything can be a very humbling experience.  Starting from scratch, scares most off, with good reason.  It can be a lot of work, embarrassing, uncomfortable, frustrating, and time consuming.  Learning to telemark ski has been all of these things for me, in addition to strenuous and painful. However, after a few weeks of awkward spills and burning quads, there is light at the end of the tunnel.

Why bother one might, and many do, ask?  I ask "why not bother?" Everywhere I look people are entrenched in the same-old routines day in and day out.  They inspire me.  I don’t want to that.  Non-stop learning seems the only path to avoiding this. 

Although I am a proficient snowboarder, I undoubtedly have room for major improvement and progression in that discipline. Maybe it is my limited attention span, but I’d rather be a beginner every year, than settle into any kind of routine or rut.  Besides, the grass is always greener.

When I’m snowboarding, I watch those skiers get off the lift and just head right down the hill.  No awkward balancing or cold butts while trying to strap in.  I want that.  Or when they hit a flat part and can just pole and skate their way back to the decline.  So jealous.  Now on skis, I remember the days of comfortable snowboarding boots and only schlepping a single object as opposed to four long, awkward pieces of equipment.  Good thing I can switch back tomorrow or the next day or whenever it dumps again. 

I’m slowly getting the muscle memory.  My only limiting factor is my quads.  I can only take two or three runs, before my legs burn so bad and I get sloppy.  In reality, the really sucky part only lasts a few days, if even.  Then progress becomes the biggest motivation. Seeing myself progress, at anything, is extremely encouraging and cyclical. The more I progress, the more I am motivated.  The more I am motivated the more I progress.  And the process is where the fun is.  Growth only comees from practice and time.  It is harly ever spontaneous.  It seems the longer the process, the bigger the reward.  The reward being growth.  And I choose growth over stagnation any day, awkward falls and all.

Chillin'

As the mercury rises here in Winter Park, Colorado, I begin to thaw from a week a sub-zero temps. More manageable temperatures alllow for extended outside play and I find myself in an enjoyable cycle of snowboarding, telemark skiing, cross-country skiing, skate skiing, and running.  Despite the packed schedule, overall, I would describe my winter experience, thus far, as extremely chill.

View from living room.

With the holiday rush behind us, work is also incredibly chill.  Basically just showing up for a few hours in the morning and a few at night gets me my montly salary, ski pass, room and board.  It is easy living.  Perhaps too easy.  While I think the routine is good for me and perfect for getting in shape, I don't know how long I will last.

Mama is just sitting out there in the parking lot, begging me to hop in and go find some adventure.  I'm an addict.  Although this place is everything I want, the unknown is more appealing.  Lack of funds are the only reason I can think of to stay.  And I want to become proficient at telemark skiing before departure.  Other than that...next, please.

I do not yet know, what I'll do.  Stay or go?  Either will be fun.  Like most instances, I probably won't have to take any decisive action.  Something will give.  Until then, I'll be here...chillin'.

...and cleaning toilets.

Settled In(side) for Winter

After six months of living in/out of my van and a whirlwind dash across the west, I am hunkered down in cozy quarters for the winter.  I am in Winter Park, Colorado, living and, as of tomorrow, working at a ski lodge.  How did I get here?  It happened so fast.

A week ago I was in Ashland, Oregon looking for a place to live.  I was excited to live there, enjoying the mild weather and running on the exposed trails..  But, throughout the past month I had small urges to go to a higher, drier winter and I was feeling a pull to Colorado.  These urges were suppressed by my non-excitement about traversing mountains in my van in the winter.  I was monitoring my regular websites of seasonal and mountain town jobs, but wasn't about to just drive out here and find a job and a place to live (my usual method).

Then last Tuesday I found a post that sparked my interest.  I applied Tuesday.  Had a phone interview Wednesday.  Was hired Thursday.  And left Ashland for Colorado Friday.

Kali, who is headed to the midwest for the holidays, and I, caravanned to Denver.  We drove for three whole days straight, managing to avoid any inclement weather.   I spent two nights and one day in Denver at my aunt's, before heading up into the high country and arriving at my new home, yesterday.

I have arrived in the really high country.  I didn't realize until I got here that Winter Park is at 9000'.  It knocked me out yesterday.  I love it.  The stairs nearly make my heart pound out of my chest.  Today while snowboarding I kept pulling my mask down, thinking it was restricting my breathing, but no, there just isn't that much oxygen.

It seems perfect.  I'm at a small private ski lodge four miles from the base of Winter Park Resort.  I'll be serving and housekeeping.  My schedule allows for a long playtime in the middle of each day.  There is shuttle to the resort and anywhere else I would need to go.  Mama is resting.  I have a new-for-me pair of telemark skis, I am going to figure out how to ride.  I can't wait to bust out the snowshoes and cross-country skis, exploring the national forest that the lodge borders.  I have a new a crew of people to work and hang with who are all here to ski and snowboard.  And its dumping.

After living outside for so long, I wasn't that excited to move inside.  Indoors, now seems kind of dirty and claustrophobic to me.  But, living inside allows me to play in the snow.  I think I will be alright.

Slowing Down...for a minute.

No matter where I am or what I am doing, this time of year cannot pass, without me getting sick. I forget, until  that unrelenting dryness in the back of my throat reminds me that another year has passed and I am going to calm down for a few days, whether I want to or not.

I surrender to sickness. I don’t try to fight it or even really to suppress the symptoms. It seems futile. Clearly something wants out. So, despite how much it pains me, I resist the urge to do my normal thing…going full speed all day everyday. It isn’t really a challenge, for my normal routines aren’t even appealing right now. Coffee isn’t doing anything for me. Sugar has lost it’s sweetness. Running sounds disgusting. Brief urges to indulge these things are quickly forgotten as I feel my whole body ache.

Yesterday I watched three full movies. That is insane. I rarely ever commit myself to a movie. They are so long. This is what I’ve been reduced to.

I did mange to push this illness back a week. I spent last week in Ashland, Oregon, leading up to a race there and feeling it out in preparation for moving there this winter. A couple days before the race I could tell the sickness was upon me, so I took some homeopathic remedies and drank copious amounts of water as to not succumb before the race. It kind of worked. I was able to run the race, although definitely not feeling my strongest.

I ran the Lithia Loop Trail Marathon last Saturday.  Last summer, I ran the course, so knew what to expect. Knowing that the last 7ish miles were steep downhill (my favorite) and that I wasn’t 100%, I decided to take it especially easy on the first 8ish mile steady climb. I figured since I couldn’t be very competitive, I would at least save enough to really enjoy that 7 mile downhill.

And that I did. It was slightly difficult to resist the temptation to push it on the uphill as I got passed by hoards of people. I fought the urge and decided I would catch them all on the downhill. After mostly power-hiking the uphill interspersed with chatting, peeing, going back and forth with Kali, I reached the top and then settled into, what felt like a good steady pace for the 12ish flat, pleasant miles on a dirt road.

I decided to count the people I passed from the aide station that marked the end of the climb, as a way to entertain myself. I think I passed like 12 or 13 on the flat part. Then came the downhill. There was an aide station right before the plunge. I got some water did a little shake-out of my limbs, maybe even let out a little WOO HOO, then unloaded.

It was so fun. Effortless, really. Gravity is my friend. I flew down the first couple miles of dirt road, then had to reign it in a bit on the singletrack, as it was crowded and I had to negotiate passing people. I passed about 20 more people before reaching the finish line in 4 hours and 3 minutes. Clearly, I could have pushed it harder earlier in the race, but I think it was more enjoyable this way.

I jogged around and stretched as I waited for Kali to finish her longest race to date. She wasn’t far behind. We changed then headed in for the post-race festivities. The whole thing was really well done. It was really nice that all the miles were marked. The aide stations were plentiful. Good food/beer afterwards. Best t-shirt I have ever received in a race. All around good times.

Despite the fun of the race and couple of days that followed in Ashland, I knew I was on borrowed time. As I drove back out to our rural dwellings, the niceness wore off, and I was left with the reality of my condition. Yes, I am being dramatic. But, for an energy fiend, low energy equates with torture. As I realized years ago, I can’t get really high without getting really low. So, as I wallow in my sickness I can be assured that the high times are not far off. For now, I guess, I’ll watch another movie.

Pleasurable Pain in Paradise

I have just returned to southern Oregon after an absolutely fantastic two-week road trip.  After taking a few days to recover in Bend from a 50k there, I made my way to the northern coast of Washington, loaded Mama on a ferry and arrived on Orcas Island on a Wednesday evening.

From the moment I drove off the ferry I knew I was in a special place.  I drove to the farside of the the island to scope out all the spots that others had suggested.  After seeing all my options I felt an overwhelming pull to set-up in the enchanting Moran State Park, centrally located on the island and home to the Triple Ripple Trail Festival, my reason for being there.

Mt. Baker from the ferry line.

I found a ridiculously awesome campsite.  Not only was this a very fancy campground with running water, hot showers and stunning views, but my campsite had its own beach of the south-end of Cascade Lake.  I settled in, made dinner and unwinded after my two days of commuting from Bend.

The beach on my campsite.

I am so glad I arrived with plenty of time before the races began.  I had three nights and two whole days to kick it.  Those two days were so nice.  With fortyish miles of trails starting from my campground, I had plenty of entertainment.  I went for a short run both mornings and then walked around the rest of the day.  The dark old-growth forest is....I don't even know.  Very special.  I loved it.  The trails were perfect.  I was very excited to run on the trails during the races, while at the same time thinking I might be too chill to run hard. 

One spot on the many beautiful trails in Moran State Park

4-mile

On Friday afternoon, I checked in, then returned to the campground and went to bed very early.  In the morning, I hiked a couple of miles to the Mountain Lake, the start of the four mile.  I was least stoked about the four mile.  It was one flat lap around Mountain Lake.  My plan was to pretend I was fast and just see how long I could hold on.  It turns out that is about two miles.  I felt like I was flying for a while.  I had already slowed down by the time I hit the two mile mark.  I was able to hold on as I saw the girl ahead of me get farther away and the one behind gaining on me.  Knowing when I had .7 mile left I turned it up, but was dry heaving with .4 left.  Luckily, I finished, without puking.  

My efforts landed me in second place for the women.  Prizes were awarded to the top overall male and female and then first place in four or five age groups.  For winning my age group, I was awarded a fresh/still warm loaf of bread.  It smelled so delicious I promptly gave it away, so I wouldn’t get any funny ideas later.  After stretching in the sun and meeting with other runners, I caught a ride back to the campground.

Between races I tore myself away from my private beach and moved Mama over to the compound the festival was basing out of.  It was less than a half a mile away from where I was, but I wanted to be where the action was.  There were cabins and tent space available, but I opted for Mama.  After settling in, I chatted with more people and stretched preparing for the hillclimb set for 3pm.

The 4-mile start/finish.

10k Hill Climb

The 10k started with a flat couple of miles around Cascade Lake before starting to climb.  Liz from Portland, who won the female side of things in the four mile, jumped ahead from the beginning and I never saw her until the very end.  Actually I never saw anyone again.  I felt fast around the lake and then strong on the climb.  I switched between running and power hiking.  The trail was absolutely awesome.  Gaining elevation, we passed through numerous mini ecosystems.  Mostly old-growth forest.  With a mile or two from the finish the course flattened out into small rolling hills and was incredibly fast.  It probably would have been advantageous to check out the map and profile beforehand because I thought it was steep all the way up.  Suddenly we came around the side of the mountain which opened up to views of the ocean, other islands and Mt. Rainier.  I tried to ignore it because it was the fastest and most technical spot on the course.  I hauled it the last mile and caught a glimpse of Liz on some switchbacks.  I kicked it into high gear, but it was too late.  We were already at the finish. 

The finish was at the summit of Mt. Constitution, the highest point in the San Juan islands.  We lucked out with clear skies and could see for miles.  A stone tower at the top allowed for a 360 view.  I took in the views while the rest of the runners finished before being shuttled back down. My second place female finish, again, won me my age group, for which I received a box of GU. 

Back at the compound the awards were followed by a Chi Running workshop, an awesome dinner, and live music from a local band.  Dancing was definitely the best way to stay loose for the 30k the next day.   As I was heading back to Mama, I thought about what a fun day it was.  I love this event.  The idea had sounded perfect to me and it was everything I hoped I would be. 

The 10k Hillclimb Finish.

30k

This was the race I was most confident about.  After chatting it up over coffee, I did a brief warm-up, then bolted off the start line.  After the 50k in Bend the week before where I realized I have lots to learn as far as racing that distance and pushing myself, I decided I would just go as hard as I can and finish with nothing left.  That seems obvious, but somehow I finished that 50k with so much energy.  Anyway I went out hard.  I took the female lead from the beginning and tried not to look back.

For the first half of the race I felt incredible.  I don’t know if I’ve ever felt that good running.  The first half was mostly uphill mixed with some flatish parts on some of the best stretches of trail I have ever been on.  It was so fun.  Everything was working.  There was a long steep climb.  I could see someone gaining on me on the switchbacks.  Finally I got to the top and started flying down.  I could tell there was someone about to pass me.  We hit an aid station at mile 10 and when I stopped for water, a girl blew past me and I never saw her again.  The last 8 miles were downhill, definitely my strongest suit, but I couldn’t catch her.  I was beat.  Suddenly I could feel the day before.  But I held on.  I cruised on the sweet single track through the dark forest.  A few miles were flat and I found that hard to push myself, but mostly I was carried downhill.  The last two miles were a bit scary.  I barely held on.  I felt like I could fall off the trail.  I dragged myself over the tiny little inclines.  A downed tree very close to the finish added a nice and confusing obstacle, in which nettle tore me up while trying to navigate through the lush ditch around it.  I crossed the finish line accomplishing my goal of finishing with nothing left. 

View from the summit of Mt. Constitution (10k finish)

I stuffed my face from the moment I finished...and haven't really stopped yet.  It took me a couple of hours to feel like I had it together.  We were served another awesome local, organic meal, which tasted good, but wasn’t sitting.  Finally a beer sounded good, and after two I was good to go. 

Once again I got the age group award.  This time two bars of local soap.  I loved the prizes.  I loved everything about this event.  Every detail was thought of.  They nailed it.  It was such a fun weekend.  I tried to explain to the race directors that I do fun stuff all the time (I’ve pretty much dedicated myself to that) and this was way up there.

As everyone started to leave, I hung around, as I had nothing to do, and I was in no hurry to get off the island.  I agreed to give someone a ride to the Seattle airport the next day, so was put up for the night in a nice big empty house.   I hung out with the crew who put the event on, as they unwinded from the virgin voyage into race directing.  A splendid evening after a splendid weekend on a splendid island.  Perfection. 

The next day, my new buddy, Brian, and I rented a couple of kayaks and paddled around the Eastsound after breakfast in town.  A nice relaxing and imperative thing to do on a visit to Orcas.  We spent a few hours paddling through the smooth water and pulled out just as some rain, the first of my trip there, rolled in. 

After saying our goodbyes we headed to the other side of the island, caught a ferry, and made it to Seattle to sleep before Brian caught a plane the next morning.  Dropping him off at the airport began my daylong journey down I-5 back to southern Oregon.  Perfect timing and a call from a friend lead to me picking up someone at the Medford airport that night before getting back here around midnight. 

I had been gone about two weeks.  And what an awesome two weeks it was.  I’ve returned with even more motivation to run…although my body isn’t quite ready yet.  I plan to just chill here, help out around the compound, and run.  There is a trail marathon in a month nearby.  Other than that no plans except to move somewhere(?) for winter.  Its pretty wide open.  

Flagline 50k: High Alpine Splendor

Right now I am in Bend, Oregon.  I've been in the area since last Friday.  Saturday I ran in the Flagline 50k, that started and finished at Mt. Bachelor ski area, located about 20 miles outside of Bend.  The race consisted of a triple figure eight-ish style loop.  It was the first time for a race on this course.  Bend is home to a endless bounty of singletrack trails, fully utilized by local mountain bikers and runners.

Mt. Bachelor Ski Area

I have run this distance in a race once previously, three years ago, near Lake Tahoe.  While I haven't been running huge distances the last two months, I felt prepared for the challenge.  I was also excited for the opportunity to get on a trail and go, with no other concerns, a luxury races afford their participants.  Quite an indulgent way to punish for your body.

My biggest concern about the distance was my feet.  Since spring I have been trying to adapt to minimal footwear not only while running, but in general.  I have been astounded by how fast my feet have been adjusting, but was a bit worried about going all out for such a long distance.  I wavered on whether or not to wear socks, as I have not been doing so for about two months.  I'm loving the feeling of not wearing them, but was worried that my feet wouldn't be able to handle the distance.  It turns out this was a very legitimate concern.

I stashed a pair of socks in a drop bag that would be at an aid station at mile 17ish and then again at 24ish.  I figured that I have gone on enough 10-15 mile-ish runs without socks that I wouldn't notice any damage until at least there.  I was so wrong.  The first eight miles were a slightly downhill on a less-than-a-road-but-more- than-a-singletrack stretch.  I found myself running right down a mountain biking trench and landing on the inside of my feet.  I could tell I was ripping the hell out of the inside of both feet.  Knowing I had socks and foot repair gear at mile 17 I tried to ignore it and just cruise.

This wasn't hard.  The first aid station was eight miles in.  After passing through and filling up my water, I glanced at my watch.  Exactly one hour.  Uhh oh.  That is definitely way too fast for me for the first eight of thirty miles.  I had no trouble slowing it down as we turned onto some definite singletrack that went up and down hills.  It was a really sweet section, but I was struggling a bit.  I just felt lethargic on the uphills and couldn't open it up on the downhills, because my feet were so tore up. Quite a few guys passed me on this section, most I never saw again.

Somewhere before the aid station at mile 15, I felt a whole lot better and settled into a good pace.  Trading places back and forth with a few guys that I stuck with until I got to my drop back at mile 17 and then sat down to doctor me feet.  I probably got them all fixed up in under five minutes.  Those fine motor skills are tough after 17 miles.  Untying my triple knots and unwrapping band-aids was tricky.  The kind aid station people were willing to help, but I thought I could do it faster.

All fixed up, I shot out of the aid station with half a sandwich (almond butter on rice bread) I had in a drop bag and ate it as I cruised down a dirt road.  This was another sweet downhill section and I was able to run much better with my feet fixed.  The sandwich didn't sit well, though, and I decided to stick to gels the rest of the time.  Three and a half (supposedly) miles down the road I turned onto a singletrack that went down a bit further before climbing back up to the same aid station I was just at.  This was another super-sweet section of trail.  I felt pretty good and hiked the uphills to catch my breath.  There were many mountain bikers everywhere cheering us on and trading places with us on the trail.

I passed back through the aid station at 24-ish then had a really good stretch of running on a gently rolling dirt road.  I passed through the last couple of aid stations feeling good and just trying to keep it going.  I felt good and was able to run most of it from there on out.  After passing some volunteers who claimed I only had three miles left, I noticed I was at just about 5 hours in and attempted to pick it up for the relatively flat finish.  Somewhere in there I wiped out, luckily not hurting myself.  What I guessed to be the second to last mile seemed to drag forever, but I finally hit the road for the last mile.  I dread the pavement, but I felt great after a minute on it and was able to push it in hard, passing a dude halfway to the finish line.

The finish line being packed up

I finished in 5:27:46.  I was happy enough with that.  I don't have much to compare it to.  I was an hour and 20 minutes behind the winner.  An hour and 10 minutes behind the first women.  But, there were some badasses there, so I can't complain.  And it was fun.  I love hanging in the woods for hours at a time, and being pushed to go as fast as I can only doubles my pleasure.

I am most impressed with how fast I have recovered...except my feet.  They are messed up.  I think they will be fine for this weekend, but I really want to run on all these awesome trails around here before them.  I really like Bend.  I am sure I will live here sometime.  Maybe this winter.  We'll see.

Home for a night, just outside of Bend

Now, I am looking forward to this weekend.  I plan to be on Orcas Island by Thursday night.  The Triple Ripple Trail Festival gets started Friday night, with the first race Saturday morning.  I'm pumped.  I think it is going to be so much fun.  It has been raining there a lot, but the forecast is looking good for this weekend.  As I've never been to Orcas Island, I know with just visiting there, I am in for a treat.