Summertime in Montana

Although we have been grieving the departure of Dan, Camp Fancy-Free has moved onward to Montana and is happy to report we are thoroughly and systematically taking summer for all its worth. And it is really summer here. It was really hot last week and kind of humid. Kind of gross, actually. I’m not into that humidity stuff, these days. But, its nice and cool now. Just a little smoky from a nearby wildfire. Anyways, it the weather hardly matter, because I have been having way too much fun the last two weeks to notice.

Missoula
After dropping Dan at the Portland Airport, we enjoyed a lovely ride along the Columbia River Gorge, through the amber waves of grain of eastern Washington and up and over the alpine splendor of the narrow strip of Idaho. We arrived in Missoula at a decent hour and still light out at 10:00pm. My best friend Sara, who has lived in Missoula a couple of years and is half-way through grad school there welcomed us back to Montana. We spent a couple of fun nights in Missoula, catching up with Sara and her boyfriend, Adam. Our visit was brief, however, because we had to get up to the Whitefish area for the wedding madness that was about to ensue…and I’ll spending more time in Missoula on my way out.

Columbia River Gorge heading out of Portland

After the very scenic drive through the Flathead Valley we made it Whitefish, made a few brief visits with old friends and then caught up with the bride, Rebecca and company. After a couple of drinks we headed up to her home in Eureka, which is about 50 miles north of Whitefish, not far from the Canadian border. We parked Mama on Rebecca and Todd’s land and that is where she remained for the last two weeks.

The Float
The next morning Kali, Rebecca and I left early to drive to Polebridge, Montana for Rebecca’s bachlorette party. Polebridge is a super-small, funky little town way off the beaten path on the western edge of Glacier National Park. The town consists of a restaurant and the Mercantile, known for its pastries. It is also right on the North Fork of the Flathead River, where the bachlorette party would be taking place. Four other women met us there and we dropped a car and headed upstream.

Some genius logistics had already been arranged and we got to our put-in spot just as the bachelor party arrived from a two day float trip that started from the Canadian border. So, the raft was already set to go, we just had to exchange our full coolers for their empty ones and two moms handed their babies off to the dads and we were on our way.

Kali, Me, Rebecca (bride) and Dawn, our trusty rower, in the back

It was a perfect day. Gorgeous weather. Awesome people. And the peaks of Glacier towering over us. There was also a ridiculous amount of pre-mixed drinks and beer. The time flew by as the water slowly carried the raft downstream. We stopped for lunch, jumped in a few times and laughed really hard all day long. Everyone was surprised it was over when we arrived in Polebridge. I think we caused quite a scene at the busy pull-out spot, when seven super-smashed girls arrived and broke down the raft and all the gear. We then had dinner in Polebridge and then set up tents and passed out early. I’m having a hard time thinking of a single day that was more fun.

The Farm
After having way too much fun on the float it was time to get down to business. Not only was the wedding one week away, but Rebecca and Todd also own a small organic farm in the midst of the busiest time of year. With the farm alone, they are the most hard-working people I know, but with the wedding in addition, they are just insane. Kali and I did what we could to help. We spent the week picking peas, carrots and beets and I was hired to do some massive weeding. The two weekly farmers’ markets they attend coincided with the arrival of their families so, we helped sell their bountiful harvest while they visited with their guests.

The Wedding
As the wedding drew closer, they started to get super busy with last-minute plans and entertaining guests. We hung out with their out-of-town family members and helped out where we could. The day of the wedding we helped set everything up at their neighbors where the ceremony and reception took place. Their neighbors have picturesque gardens, the perfect venue a wedding. The wedding itself was fairly traditional considering the not so traditional nature of the couple. Everyone had a blast, and we stayed up late dancing to the rock-a-billyish band they hired.

The Runs
Despite getting caught up in the nuttiness of the week, I managed to get in three awesome trail runs. A friend of Rebecca’s, Sarah, who was in town for the wedding, is into trail running and is familiar with the area. Our first one was on the way back from Polebridge. We took the backroads to get back to Eureka and stopped to climb up the second highest peak in the Whitefish Range and run down. It was maybe a 12-14 mile round-trip, the perfect hang-over cure. From the top you could see peaks forever in all directions.

A few days later, with my downhill muscles still incredibly sore, Sarah took me on a ten mile loop not far from where I’m staying. Once again awesome views and the peak of the wildflowers around here. I feel like my words are inadequate to describe the scenery and unfortunately the mobile camera is broken. :(

A couple of days after the wedding we did a run I wanted to do the whole time I lived here, but could never make it happen logistically. We got up very early one morning and dropped off a car at the Strawberry Lake trailhead, outside of Kalispell, then piled in another car and headed to the Columbia Mountain trailhead, outside of Columbia Falls. Twenty-seven miles later, Sarah, Kali, and I got back to the car at Strawberry Lake. It was big. We didn’t actually know for sure if it was 27 miles. Some guidebooks said 20.5 and others said 27. Turns out it was more like 27. Anyhow, it was great. The first eight miles are a steep climb up Columbia Mountain. At the top, Alpine Trail #7 traverses the ridgeline to Strawberry Lake and beyond. From the ridge, you would be able to see in all directions, on a clear day, but it was too smoky to see much. We got some nice views of the western-most Glacier peaks and, once again, the wildflowers were amazing. It was a nice cool day, with the smoke actually providing some relief from the sun, and we got caught in the rain with seven miles to go. An amazing day…and week. I really appreciated finding someone else who was into the same kind of treks and the same pace that Kali and I are at.

Next ?

Now I really have no plans. Kali and I are planning to finally move Mama today. I think we’ll head into Whitefish and see what happens. There are plenty of people to visit and much fun to be had as we are at the peak of summer. I keep meaning to update this more frequently, but it seems as though I have only been getting a chance every two weeks or so.  Too much fun.

The Festival Phase Closes on a High Note

The Northwest String Summit, this past weekend, wrapped up the music festival portion of the "Free Wheelin Tour".  What a perfect ending to three fun-packed, uber-stimulating weekends.  I get a chance to reflect as we take a day to drive from Portland to (hopefully) Missoula.  Although not too far (500 some miles), it is pushing it for us in Mama.  Leaving  Portland, this morning, we were treated to stunning views of the Columbia River Gorge for the first few hours.  Beautiful cliffs, sparkling water and thousands of wind surfers was a nice complement with the morning coffee.  Now in eastern Washington, the views aren’t as scenic, but not ugly either.  A little warm for my taste. 

As anticipated in the last post, after leaving Eugene, we did meet up with friend of Kali’s living in Corvallis.  We spent a nice evening visiting with her and then were led on a nice trail run through the McDonald Forest, just outside of town, the next morning.  We then headed to a town just south of Portland to spend the evening with another friend and to position ourselves in close proximity to the Portland Airport, to pick up my brother, Dan, who would be joining us for the week.  When we arrived at our friend’s (a mutual friend we had worked with at Stanford Camp in the spring) we were surprised to find he lived in a VFW hall and worked as a caretaker and bartender.  So, we spent the night drinking with some vets before retiring to the van in parking lot.

Shortly after slipping into half-drunk sleep someone pounded on the van.  It took me a few seconds to realize what was happening.  When I shouted out asking what they wanted a police officer identified himself and asked us to get out of the vehicle.  In dramatic fashion I got out van making it very clear he had just woke me up.  I mention this whole scene because I find it very entertaining.  This has happened to us a few times.  First time on this tour, but it usually goes down the same way.  Although in the past the authorities showed up in the morning.  When I emerge from the van the tone of everything changes very quickly.  One second they are banging on the car like a hard-ass, then they see me and become very apologetic, even when we are clearly in the wrong.  Same scenario this time.  I don’t know what he was expecting to be inside, but when he saw two girls, he started to joke around and quickly went through the routine things (i.e. checking our identification and asking if we have weapons in the car).  After he established we weren’t wanted fugitives and that we had permission to be in parking lot, he was gone and we were quickly back to sleep.

The next morning we retrieved Dan from the airport and headed into Portland for his and my first visit to the highly-regarded big city.  We drove around for quite a while getting our bearings and trying to find our staple stores to load up for the festival.  After a nice lunch and shopping we drove in circles for a while before finding our direction and heading west out of the city to the town of North Plains,  home to Horning’s Hideout.

I have been hearing about Horning’s Hideout for quite a few years.  It is a private camping/fishing/disc golf spot.  It is awesome.  Lush, green rainforesty terrain.  Creeks and a lake.  Open grass fields.  Views into the adjacent valley.  A natural amphitheatre, shaded by huge old-growth trees with a beautiful stage built in the bowl.  It is the perfect place for a festival. 

 One of many peacocks that live at Horning's Hideout

The Northwest String Summit is a festival I’ve wanted to attend since I started listening to Yonder Mountain String Band six or seven years ago. They play a show each of the three nights and other bands play throughout the day.  It is very chill compared to the action-packed, multiple-stage events of the last two weeks.  Although there was plenty of music all day long I didn’t get the feeling I was missing something every time I sat down to chill at the campsite. 

We had our campsite dialed in for the third festival in three weeks.

This is my favorite festival I have been to…yet.  It was so perfect.  Three nights of my favorite band, pretty chill atmosphere (less costumes and sideshow freaks than the last two), and a beautiful setting for it all.  Luckily it was still crazy enough for Dan to get the full festival experience…dancing weirdoes, ripping music, and an all-night every night disco party next to our campsite. 

I can’t wait to attend any event or even just go to play disc golf at Horning’s Hideout again.  Definitely a special place.

Dan had one more day with us before heading home, so we headed out to the coast about 60 miles from the festival.  We enjoyed a lovely drive through the lush Coast Mountains and then camped at the beach for evening.  Although we weren't even there for a whole day, it was nice to get to see the rocky coast of northern Oregon.  We then returned to Portland to send Dan off.  It was so great he got to hang for a week.  So much laughing.  

 Dan and I on the beach.

Now what?  The festival madness is over for now, but the summer is just beginning.  We are enroute to Montana, where hopefully the snow has left the high country for its short window.  Aside from a wedding and some friends to visit, I don’t have any concrete plans in Montana.  I hope to get in as much trail running as possible.  I figure it is the best place with the super-long days.  I have no idea how long I will be here for.  I haven’t even been gone a year, but I am very excited to get back and am confident I will find adventure and some kind of crazy along the way.

It's Not a A Sprint...

This three week-long festival run cannot be called a marathon.  It is so much more than that.  The closing of the Oregon Country Fair yesterday marks the end of the second of three festivals Kali and I have tickets for.  Three festivals in three consecutive weekends.  

The High Sierra Music Festival is my Graceland, or Disneyland or Superbowl or church or whatever one gets super pumped to be apart of.  The festival takes place in the Plumas County Fairgrounds in Quincy, California.  Four days of outrageous amounts of music, partying and people watching.  It is completely over the top.  Non-stop, around the clock fun.  Many people find no reason to sleep during this four day festival. I used to be one of these people until I got over my FOMO (fear of missing out) disorder.  After my first outing to High Sierra it took me about three weeks to get back on a normal sleep schedule.  But this time around, High Sierra is only the first stop on the tour.  We need to pace ourselves.  And luckily we did.  Plus, there is no reason not to.  Although the late-night shows are always my favorite, there is endless options of things to do all day long.  Usually there was more than one band I wanted to see playing at the same time, yoga, hula-hooping, dancing, etc. workshops, wine and beer tasting, good food and the thousands of freaky people to stare at.  Over stimulation to the max.

Being my third trip to to High Sierra, I had a camping spot in mind prior to arriving.  Luckily, no one had taken my little perch:  a small, flat spot on a steep hill, in the shade, as far away as you could be from the madness in the super-jammed fairgrounds.  Although just a few steep yards from everything, the hill provided a nice barrier for much needed rest from all the excitement.  This time I even brought in some gardening gloves to level off the perch to add some space for cooking and sitting.  Its a pretty awesome spot and I would consider bringing in a small rake and shovel in the future to expand the flatness and make it really comfortable.

It is hard to describe the experience of High Sierra.  It is beyond words.  It is the land of make-believe.  Where reality is blurred and it is easy to loose grip on individuality. Where do I end and it begins?  The music permeates everything.  Unless you are standing directly in front of a stage when someone is performing you can usually hear multiple different shows going on and whatever sideshows have magically sprung up next to wherever you are hanging out  Everyone is dancing everywhere whether they are in front of a stage or waiting in line for the bathroom or moving from one show to the next.

Then there are the outfits.  Also beyond words.  There really is no theme or rhyme or reason for the outfits.  People just wear the weirdest things they can find.  We were noticing a few trends this year, however.  Sun umbrellas are big.  Is Oprah into those now?  Tons of umbrellas.  Also, tails.  ???   Lots of tails.  Circus attire and gypsy get-ups are popular.  Paint instead of clothes.  No clothes.  Anything goes.

All fun.  All day everyday.  We watched 3-7 shows a day.  Danced for four days straight.  By the end I could barely stand.  On Sunday hardly anyone can even clap and woo at the end of a song.  It is pretty hardcore.
We got worked, but not as bad as most.  We didn't make it to any of the 6:00AM kickball games, although we could hear them loud and clear each morning.  We slept reasonable hours each night and continued to eat good meals throughout the long weekend.  This was all necessary not only for making it through the three festivals, but also for the activities we have planned in between.

After four days of what I estimate to be equivalent to at least a marathon a day of dancing and prancing at High Sierra we decided that we needed a nice long run to stretch out our legs and get everything flowing again.  We very efficiently got all of our errands done in Quincy Monday morning and was on the road by early afternoon, Oregon bound.

We planned to stay up high in the mountains, but due to snow through Lassen National Park, had to drop down into the Sacremento Valley,  It felt like we had entered the gates of hell.  Luckily it was only for a few hours and we were cooled by the time were passing mystical Mt. Shasta.  We got to our destination, Ashland, Oregon early in the evening, got some food together and went to bed early.

The next day we started what we hope will an on-going event, known as marathon Tuesdays.  We ran/walked a marathon in the hills surrounding Ashland.  It was a loop on closed fire-roads starting and ending in town.  It is called the Lithia Loop, popular among mountain bikers, and home to a trail running race held in November. We had a great day.  It took us six hours.  The first six miles are up hill.  Followed by 13 flatish miles.  And ends with seven steep downhill miles.  A perfect course, if you ask me.  The final seven were so fun.  So fast.  I hope to do the race in November.

A break to filter water along the Lithia Loop

Post-run we cooled off in a creek.  It was a terribly hot day, but the trail was mostly shaded.  We then, somehow in our altered-state, managed to drive to Williams, Oregon about an hour away.  We both spent last fall in Williams and Kali spent time there this spring.  Friends there have a spectacular, off-the-grid spot, that I was ecstatic to get back to.  Awesome people and a beautiful spot.  The perfect place to recover from our marathon Tuesday.  We spent the night visiting with them and the next day relaxing and walking around their property.

We had planned on getting to Eugene early on Thurday, but couldn't resist an offer to float on the Rogue River for the day.  So, we did just that.  We joined a small group from Williams on one and two-person inflatable rafts for a nice relaxing float.  And beautiful.  The river cut through rock and wound through thick forest.   A great way to spend a hot day.

After getting off the river, it was onward to number two of three of the festivals.  Next stop:  The Oregon Country Fair.  I had first heard of this a few years ago, when I first came out this way to go to High Sierra.  People could never really describe it, but told me I would like it and that it was something everyone needed to check out at last once.

The Fair takes place in a rural town 15 miles outside of Eugene.  It is three days long.  You can go for a day or camp on private property turned campground just for the event.  We stayed at a campground just a short walk from the entrance to the Fair.

Enjoying the sunset from the front porch.

This too is hard to describe.  The Fair is kind of like a Renaissance Fair meets the circus meets Oregon.  The whole thing is in paths in a heavily wooded area.  There are merchants and food vendors interlaced with stages and open-performing areas.  Every sort of freak show imaginable can probably be found in the Fair.  Acrobats, jugglers, music, dancing, performance art is just the beginning.  I didn't even know what I was looking at some times.  Stuff going on everywhere.

Once again, costumes are huge.  And here, equally as huge is the lack of costumes.  Nakedness is popular.  But all the same kind of crazy as High Sierra.  Gypsies and circus freaks.

The Fair is more family friendly though.  There is no alcohol inside the event.  Which makes it much chiller.  The campgrounds were relativly chill as well.  We could have our car in the campground, so we have the luxury of living in our home, even at the fair.  Very chill, although very hot outside.  We invested in a shade tent, which saved us this weekend.  We even managed to get out for a run one morning and a bike ride the next morning before heading into the Fair.

We woke up this morning (Monday) pretty worked.  After breaking down camp we headed into Eugene and struggled to get our errands done.  So, we got a room at a hostel and decided to hang out and get stuff done tomorrow before heading to Corvallis to meet up with a friend of Kali's and possibly go for a ride or run on Wednesday.

Thursday we start it all over again.  The last leg of our mega-marathon festival tour.  Hopefully we'll still be standing by this time next week.

The "Free Wheelin'" Tour WEEK ONE

Snow, Bugs, Snakes and Gapers.

While spending our first week on the road trying to avoid all these pesky little things, we were led to some purely awesome places in Northern California.  We allotted ourselves just over a week to get from the Lake Tahoe area to Quincy, California, where we currently find ourselves gearing up to head into the High Sierra Music Festival early Thursday morning.

After I finished the race I met back up with Kali and her Mom, who was visiting from Ohio.  Thankful for a shower and a bed to recover in, I spent the night in a hotel with them on the North side of Lake Tahoe.  The next day we moved into Mama and found a nice spot to park her on top of Brockway Summit, overlooking Lake Tahoe.  From here we had access to some of the best trails and road biking I'm aware of.  We spent the day doing just that.  Kali running trails and me road biking, trying desperately to stretch my legs and get loose from the punishing previous day.

Because most of the forest service access roads were still gated, due to snow, we found it hard to escape the onslaught of people gaping at the wonderful big blue lake.  Yes, people, it is beautiful, but you still have to follow the rules of the road and look both ways before crossing the street.  Jesus.  Anyway, we decided to hike into the woods to get away from the crowds.

real estate with a lake view

We hopped on the Tahoe Rim Trail heading north from Brockway summit.  We were only able to get five or six miles in before losing the trail to snow.  No worries, however.  We picked out a beautiful spot overlooking Lake Tahoe and spent a nice peaceful evening with it all to ourselves.  Lovely.  We returned to our car and the crowds in the morning and decided to head for lower grounds so we could go on longer hikes without the snow.

After stopping in one of my old homes of Truckee, California and passing by another (Rainbow Lodge), we headed towards Nevada City.  After spending the night on a forest service road, we headed into town the next day, did our errands, ran in the colorful Empire Mine State Park in Grass Valley, then made our way down the South Yuba River Canyon.

sweet view of a bend in the South Yuba River from the trail

The next day we set out on the Upper South Yuba trail that left from the campground.  I was just not feeling it on this run.  It wasn't working for me.  We were only planning on a short out and back totaling seven scenic miles.  I decided to just keep walking out as to not abandon Kali in mountain lion country.  After she made the turn around and found me I tried to keep up with her until we got to the viewpoint the above picture was taken at.  We paused here to take some pictures and suck in the awesome sights.  I turned around to see what the sound I heard was and saw the biggest, most bad-ass snake I have ever seen.  Anyone who knows me, knows my relationship with snakes (I can hardly write about it).  I took off running and screaming the most deathly high-pitched scream you have ever heard.  After that I had no trouble running and ran the fastest lightest three miles I have done in months.  Ehhhhhh.  

After that incident I wanted to flee, so we scrapped our plans of backpacking down into the canyon on the same trail the next day and left the next morning.  After a few more errands we started heading north on 49, a new route for both of us.  We found a sweet little secluded pull-off among the many gapered-out campgrounds along the North Yuba River.  One problem...mosquitos.  Not kidding, they were unbearable.  Despite the heat and the beautiful spot, we had to confine ourselves to the van with the windows up for the evening.  They were eating us alive.  We quickly left there the next morning, heading back for higher ground, deciding we'd trade the snow back for the bugs. 

As it was the weekend, we couldn't escape Gape-City, so we made the best of it, picnicking among them, before finally finding a coveted free campground, where the crowds were already gone for the week.  It was nice and high (6,600ft) and on a lake.  The bugs were bad, but much more manageable.  We planned a trail run for next day and went to bed early after a nice swim in the lake.

the Sierra Buttes

We rode our bikes a couple miles to the start of our planned lollipop loop.  The photocopied map we got from a visitors bureau didn't have the distances but we were planning on a ten-ish mile day.  We quickly hit snow, but were able to keep on the trail.  We met up with the Pacific Crest Trail, just as we got high enough to see the greatness of the area we were in.  High alpine lakes, giant redwood trees and Sierra Buttes were our entertainment for the day...that and me taking crazy falls on the snow (my shoes just don't seem to work on snow).

 pure niceness...Upper Salmon Lake

It took us quite a long time to go a few miles through the snow.  After much poking around, we were able to follow it all the way around and hook up with the Deer Lake Trail to complete the loop.  That trail was clear of snow and runnable.  We skiied down the stick of our lollipop and made it back to our bikes and was back at our campsite a few up-hill miles later, quite happy with the stunning landscape we were lucky enough to be in all day.

After another lovely evening at the same campground, we headed into Quincy, giving ourselves two days to check-off a list of errands, before the madness of our festival run begins early Thursday morning.  As I finish this post, we have somehow managed to do everything in one day, leaving us all day tomorrow to find some adventure in the hills surrounding Quincy.  WOO HOO!

The "Free Wheelin'" Tour Commences

First Stop:  Kicking My Own Ass

After leaving the Stanford Camp and spring behind on Friday, my mindset quickly moved from the live/work drama and the busyness of moving to preparing for the race I was registered for on Sunday.  I spent two nights in the van in Tahoe City before showing up to start line of the Burton Creek Trail Marathon early Sunday morning.  The race was part of the Big Blue Adventure Race Series that takes place in various places around Lake Tahoe throughout the summer.

The race started and finished at the Tahoe City's Highlands Community Center, home to the cross-country ski area and an awesome system of mountain biking trails.  Two laps on a 13.1 mile loop through Burton Creek State Park was the course for the marathon.  The loop consisted of a combination of gently rolling double-track and singletrack with 900 feet of elevation gain each loop.

I arrived shortly before the 9:00am start after sleeping in my van nearby in National Forest.  After some brief stretching and hula hooping to warm up the race began.  I felt great from the beginning.  I started out slow as could reminding myself that most of the others were running the shorter races...not the marathon.  Settling into a good good pace, I realized that course was as flat as the description suggested.  While some might be stoked about this, it is not to my advantage.  I believe I could compete better on steep technical climbs and especially descents.  Technical is definitely not how I would describe this course.  It was smooth as could be.

As is turns out all that early spring road running down Fallen Leaf Lake Road paid off.  I really had to motivate to get out on the road, especially in the snowy, cold weather, but I was thankful for it during the race.  It was all running.  And I felt great.

Nearing the end of the first loop I counted three people in front of me, one woman.  I grabbed a sandwich I had stashed at the turn-around and downed it while walking up the the slight hill to start the second lap.  I could not believe how good I felt as I started to run again.  Slowly, my muscles began to feel a little tired, but I think I kept a pretty steady pace.  I didn't carry a watch or know any milage along the way except for the 13.1 mile turnaround.  I tried to focus on my form and enjoy the beauty of the course.  The trial meandered through forest and open meadows full of blooming wild flowers.  The weather was perfect; not too hot and a slight breeze.

After the turn around I didn't see any other runners on the course until about five miles from the finish.  On the only steep climb of the course I caught sight of a guy about a quarter mile ahead of me.  I passed him soon after and cruised the slight downhill of the rest of the course.  I finished in 4 hours and 7 minutes putting me 6th overall, 2nd woman.  Quite happy with myself, I inhaled a burger and chicken sausage and a couple of beverages.

Mud Season Distractions

Fallen Leaf Lake in front of Lake Tahoe

The time known as spring in most places in the Northern Hemisphere, is not so affectionately referred to as "mud season" in the mountains.  It is the messy in-between time, when the snow is too spotty to play on, but is still covering the trails.  Muddy trails will gradually be exposed, depending on the elevation, but the ones in the highest country (where I want to be most) will unlikely see the light of day until July.  Aside from heading down to lower elevations, there is surely still fun to be had if one is willing to brave the cold, wet weather, post-hole through snow and/or play on the pavement.  My need to be in the higher elevations allows me to tolerate and even embrace this time of year, but I realized a few years ago bumming around in my car makes it difficult to utilize this swing season.  I decided a warm place to live, a hot shower and even a job (since the weather is crappy most of the time) would allow me to take mud season for all its worth.  Alas, I have found all these things, and then some, at the Stanford Sierra Camp.

Mt. Tallac towering over Fallen Leaf Lake

The Stanford Sierra Camp and Conference Center is located ten miles outside of the city of South Lake Tahoe, California, five miles from the southern shore of the impressive Lake Tahoe.  It is perfectly tucked under the southeast towers of Mount Tallac and on the southwest shores of Fallen Leaf Lake at the end of a five-mile, single-lane road, which dead-ends at the camp.  Granite boulders, huge trees and gushing creeks dominate the landscape.  Perfection, if you ask me.  

 

View from camp

The Stanford-owned facility functions as a resort in the summer and a conference center in the spring and fall.  A separate staff works the conference season and the summer season.   Most of the single season jobs are as an "all purpose" staffer.  A typical schedule will include 2-5 different shifts a day.  Jobs include housekeeping, washing dishes,  working in the dining room,  cleaning, shoveling snow,  leading hikes, set-up and break down of events and doing maintenance projects.  The are 40-50 employees.   Most live on-site.  Room and board are part of the deal.  Employees also have access to everything the place has to offer, which is about everything.  They have a shitload of watercraft, a basketball court, tennis courts, sand volleyball, a beach, books, games and any equipment you could need.  And that is just the stuff to do on-site.  The mountain-tops that run straight up from the back of my cabin offer endless entertainment.  

View from my front porch

True to the its elevation, the High Sierras disappointed most this spring.  It consistently snowed every week into June.  But true to it's California reputation, it was sunny and beautiful in-between.  As planned, I was able to take full advantage despite the rather foul weather.  I started the season by exploring the area on several different snowshoe outings.  As the snow became spottier and I was constantly falling through I spent most of the time road running and road biking.  Towards the end of May I was able to get on some east-facing and low-lying trails.   And through June I was primarily running on trails and road biking.  My cross-training consisted of large doses of hula-hooping and short runs in the Vibram Five Fingers.

After one of a dozen spring storms

As I suspected, structure provided by a work schedule, a home and a hot shower make for the most advantageous situation for me this time of year.  I am pleased with the training I got in during my stint here.  I feel like I'm prepared for the trail marathon I'm doing a couple days after finishing work.  The work itself was average (but necessary and now allows me to not work for a few months).  After not working for five months before this, it started out actually being fun, but then turned to the regular grind after a few weeks.  Then a few weeks later...it is over.  I love seasonal work.  Impermanent, just like everything else.  The perfect distraction for surviving mud season.

Planning Ahead

Surrender, yet prepare. Ask, yet expect.

I've done it. I've purchased both festival passes and registered for the race. This, more than a month before any of the events. It is a bit scary for me. A month is a long time. What if something better comes along? What if I change my mind? What if? What if? What if.....? In a universe of uncertainty how does one commit to non-refundable tickets this far in advance. Luckily, I've already got a grasp on uncertainty. Uncertainty is certain. Easy enough. Now, I am pondering planning ahead. While it first seemed that this is opposite of "going with the flow", upon further consideration, I have concluded these seemingly opposites are not mutually exclusive and a healthy balance would be the most advantageous route.

Planning ahead requires intention, choosing and commitment. Inherently, a certain outcome is desired. Desire lends itself to attachment or expectation. Lots of horrifying words to me.

Going with the flow, on the other hand, involves lack of expectation and non-attachment to outcome. The expression implies passivity, maybe even waiting or reacting.

Practicing an active form of non-attachment would be ideal. The idea is to direct the flow, but not impede, pollute, or get washed away in it. And most definitely not to argue it. Planning is necessary to get anything accomplished or desire met (preparing or asking). But the trick is to execute the plan without any attachment to the outcome (surrender). If the plan does not work out, then it is certain that the wrong choice was made in the first place. If it works out, then its reaffirmed. It is hardly decisive. The commitment is only to the actions of initiation and planning. "Putting it out there". That's all.

Expecting is a the tricky and awesome part. This is where the attracting or manifesting, if you will, comes into play. But, it is still coupled with surrender and non-attachement to outcome. Expecting can direct the flow, but surrendering acknoweledges that the current of the universe will act in your best interest and push you along if you are blinded by the muck of attachment and desire.

While I've traditionally been a card-carrinying member of the "go with the flow" club, recently this planning ahead-business is creeping on me. I guess, it is because I am developing ideas of things I think I may want to experience or accomplish. Things that involve more foresight and planning than just having the intention in my head. But same rules still apply. Be conscious, honest, and accepting, Plan to go with the flow. The seemingly opposites are only seemingly so.