Mammoth: Eastern Sierra getaway

I've lived in California for just over 10 years now (how did that happen?), and every time I visit the Sierra - no matter what the trip is - I think to myself "I must return soon". And then a year or two will pass, and I'll return and wonder why it took me so long to get back, especially when I consider that it isn't a long trip from LA.  In just a few hours, a person can easily find him/herself on a lonely road, passing cattle and the occasional ghost town with the lights of the city far behind and craggy mountains looming large.

Thanks to a timely semester break, Michael and I did enjoy a quick jaunt up to Mammoth Lakes.  We'd been in the area years ago over a bitterly cold Memorial Day weekend but had not returned since.  Going at this time of the year obviously promised to be a different trip - rather than hiking and kayaking, we planned to take advantage of the snow!  After hearing about skiing at Mammoth for years, we'd finally experience it ourselves. Thanks to my semester break, we left the LA area Wednesday afternoon and arrived at our destination in the early evening.  As we headed north, I kept asking "Where is the snow" because we drove through the Mojave, dotted with Joshua Trees and then gained in altitude but the landscape still felt fairly desert-like.  Driving into the town of Mammoth Lakes, the snow was piled up, and Michael could finally reply "Here is the snow!".  It seemed to appear as soon as we turned west and headed into the mountains - duh.

Skiing in Mammoth ended up being an experience of extremes - a terrible ski day followed up by an amazing day!  Thursday, we woke up early and headed out, hitting the mountain around 9:00 am and on the chairlift by 9:05 or so.  In comparison to skiing in Colorado, I couldn't believe two aspects: a. how warm it was!  b. how short the lift lines were!  In terms of the first surprise, I welcomed the warmer temperatures.  Colorado was bitterly cold, so heading outside and discovering that it wasn't too cold - well, that was a treat.  I knew that we were visiting Mammoth on off days, but I still couldn't get over the fact that there literally were no lift lines!  Unfortunately, my appreciation for Mammoth ended there on Thursday as I experienced the worst ski day of my life.  Okay, the second-worst ski day (the worst was definitely when I tore my meniscus). The snow was fresh and thick, and I am not very skilled at skiing through powder - yes,  I prefer the groomed, manicured slopes.  Added to the snow, which fell throughout the morning, visibility went from kind of crappy to just plain terrible.  I couldn't see anything in front of me and even took my goggles off, hoping that would help (which it did, initially, sort of).

We made it through about 4 runs in the morning - runs with lots of stops and starts - before I begged for  a break.  I felt so off because I couldn't see ANYTHING, and it really affected my confidence.  During our break, I picked up a new pair of goggles that would, I hoped, improve the visibility.  Returning to the mountain with new gear in tow, we felt better when we started out in the afternoon.  We probably had two decent runs before we were fighting the visibility issue again.  Not only were we totally frustrated, we were also exhausted by the early afternoon.  So, we called it a day.

Here I am before the fog gathered!

The forecast for Friday called for similar weather, except between the 8:00-9:00 hour, so we were on the slopes by 8:40, determined to at least get in a few good runs.  As the morning wore on, the weather held, and we both enjoyed a perfect day of skiing!  First of all, we couldn't believe how gorgeous it was - I mean, we knew that it was supposed to be amazing, but we couldn't see anything on Thursday.  So, the views of the Sierra just took us by surprise on Friday.  And we couldn't have wished for a better day of skiing - amazing snow, a beautiful day, and very few people on the slopes.  We were the only people on some of the runs!  

Looking down at the clouds - the trees appeared to be sugar-coated!

Enjoying the blue skies!

Taking in some liquid pleasure at lunch - Mammoth Brewing Company's Epic IPA hit the spot!

After lunch, we skied a few more runs but then decided to stop while we were ahead, at least in terms of skiing.  We were both happy and exhausted and didn't want to push it too much and risk injury (ah, the joys of getting older).  No doubt Thursday's challenging experience on the slopes highlighted how great Friday was, so we tried to take advantage of the conditions as much as we could but were tired by the early afternoon.  Before tucking in for the evening, however, we stopped at the Mammoth Brewing Company.  We certainly enjoyed drinking their IPA at lunch, and it seemed like a logical place to grab a drink.  Apparently plenty of other people coming off the mountain also wanted to grab a drink because it was packed!  While not a traditional bar (they only sell 'tastings' rather than pints), I was a huge fan of their beers, especially their holiday selection - the Dopplebock and Eisbock were amazing, and it was the perfect way to say farewell to Mammoth.

The view from the car - See you next time!

Bittersweet - Back in sunny CA

It comforted me yet made me a bit sad when I woke up in my own bed this morning, surrounded by familiar details (such as dogs sniffing up at me when they sensed movement in bed rather than the usual sleep rhythm - how do they know it?!).  After two fairly long days in the car, Michael and I both welcomed the familiar sites along I-5, such as the lovely town of Grapevine, almost rejoicing when we merged onto the 210 Freeway, and we would have been ecstatic if we hadn't been so tired when we finally opened the door to our humble abode.  Milo and Gus did not make the trip with us, so their wagging tails were at attention as they greeted us with a mix of joy and suspicion.  For the rest of our short evening, they seemed to alternate between excitement and distrust, glad to see us yet nervous that we'd leave them again.  They were, however, quite happy to join us in our bedroom when we finally called it a day, so I think that they have forgiven us for this momentary abandonment.

Regarding the trip - more to come on that, photos and all.  It is hard to summarize and to not gush ad nauseum, but it was a fantastic trip - one of our 'best', if I could rank them.  Heading south on Wednesday felt like someone was yanking a part of me out, I hated to leave that part of the world that much, as we took our leave of good friends with whom we had reconnected and to whom we had to say our good-byes.  That was the bittersweet aspect of the trip, because it made me so happy to see these people and so sad to leave them.  Throughout the trip we saw different people, but on Wednesday, we had made our final "visit", so that was the hardest good-bye.  Our route on this trip was a bit circuitous - we made different stops along the way as we drove north to Oregon, then snaked our way to the Oregon coast where we disconnected from the world before heading north to Seattle, then on to Bellingham, then crossing the border to Vancouver.  Our final stop before the long drive south was east to Leavenworth, WA.  The return was, without a doubt, the most difficult part of the trip, as the excitement that pushed us on had transformed into anxiety and impatience to return home.  The long summer days suddenly shortened, and we knew that we were closer to home.

That is a summary of our route, but says little about the WHAT - the experiences and the activities.  It is hard, for me, to quickly summarize all of that, but I will say that we walked along half a dozen beaches, if not more; ate more than our fair share of excellent, local (when we could get it) seafood, lost count of the totem poles that we came across, consumed pounds and pounds of cherries (I kid you not); perused many a farmers market; fell in love with Oregon and Washington beers - IPAs in particular; stopped to take in one view or another and pinched ourselves when we couldn't really believe it; honed our local pie expertise; drank numerous cups of coffee (and only went to Starbucks once!); enjoyed the bounty of our friends' gardens at dinnertime; and stayed up far later than I am used to on most evenings as we gabbed and gabbed with friends.  I would also consider this to be one of our more active trips as we walked, hiked, biked or ran in every single locale that we visited.

Now that we are home, it is easy to return to a pat routine, to get lost in the day-to-day minutiae, to worry about next month or next year, or to focus too much on small details that, in the bigger scheme, don't really matter that much.  While this was no Kerouacian experience that involved hitchhiking, the elements and a few survival skills, it did allow us to step outside of the usual rhythm of our lives and to reconnect with several people that we know from different moments of our lives.  Being home has its own advantages, as we connect with friends here and spend time with the dogs (and I train for some race), and hunkering down a bit will energize us for our next trip - which will be coming up soon!

A typical Saturday morning...

Getting in an open water swim before next week's triathlon? Check.
Going for a canyon run? Check.
Taking a walk on a beach? Check.

Enjoying views like this:

Source

Double check!

Michael commented that we used to do these sorts of outings more often, although I'd like to know how much we're "not" doing these days, considering all of our trips over the past few weeks to northern and southern counties.  This morning did, however, seem like a special treat, mainly because we only expected to head south for a quick open water swim and then return home.  But how lame would that be?

The morning started earlier than most, even considering my tendency to get up and go.  I had been itching for an open-water swim before next weekend and planned to do an ocean swim.  However, I found a "clinic" of sorts - pay to swim a mile in a reservoir.  Great!  I figured that it would boost my confidence if I could execute the swim without a panic attack.  Having not dedicated as much time, energy and anxiety to swimming over the past few months, I had no idea how the swim would go, but I did feel confident that it would not be a repeat of last year's first open-water swim of the season which consisted mainly of some hyperventilating. 

At any rate, we ended up cutting it a bit a close for my swim - I believe I arrived at 7:55, and the swim began promptly at 8:00.  Someone else did not know exactly when I needed to leave, and obviously I communicated well with him (no, it wasn't our dog Gus).  Yikes, I was the last person to arrive!  Most had arrived early and splashed around, while I put on my wetsuit as fast as I could and tried to look nonchalant about the fact that I was putting on my swim cap and goggles as the 'director' shouted directions at us.  The good thing about the late arrival is that I had zero time to think about how far out the buoy looked.  When they blew the whistle, I jumped in the water (or waded out to it) and started to swim.  As usual, the beginning is kind of a scene as people are trying to get space and figure out their stroke.  It took me a moment to settle into a rhythm, but I finally began to focus on my stroke and breathing and did not think about time or how far I had gone.  The course was extremely simple - just out and back, turning around two buoys.  My sighting was pretty horrible, but I did not wander too far off course.  I felt pretty good, and by the time I knew it, I had turned around the buoys and had headed back to the 'beach' area.  Around the last 100 yards or so, my right calf cramped up horribly (mother-fer!), but I just dealt with it and exited the water.  I glanced down at my watch, thinking that I'd be happy with a 35-minute swim, and it read under 30 minutes.  Holy crap, I guess I have improved since last year!

Once the swim was done, we were more or less out of there.  Michael couldn't resist taking an awesome photo of me (I'm obviously the short pale person to the right):

And then, we headed to the coast - Crystal Cove State Park, to be exact, where we hiked/ran El Moro Canyon and then went down to the beach and enjoyed watching the waves.  It was a gorgeous day to be out, and we couldn't believe that we'd seen and done so much in a morning's time. 

So, taking full advantage of our Saturday, we came home and took a nap!

And my evening should have some of this, just to top off the day:

Colorado adventures - Summer 2011

So, we've now been back two weeks, and I finally feel organized enough to review and reflect upon our annual pilgrimage to Colorado. We often find ourselves following the same routine when we visit Boulder, and although we hit up some of our favorite spots (Snarfs for sandwiches and Spruce Confections for coffee), we also tried to spend less time and money eating out on this visit, so we did not go to all of our favorite places. It also seemed to me that we didn't hike as much as we often do when we are in Colorado, but we did manage one epic climb at the end of our stay!

The focus of the trip was to visit family and friends, and we did spend lots AND LOTS of time with family and friends and varied up our visit a bit by spending two nights in Allens Park, CO, a tiny stop on the way up to the tourist hell that is Estes Park (we drove through Estes Park and then left immediately!). We took Gus and Milo and stayed in a fairly rustic cabin!

I also spent some time hanging around on the climbing wall! Michael's nephews were like spider monkeys as they scampered up multiple routes. I was a little less youthful, but I had a great time climbing! It was the first time in a few years that I'd climbed, so I didn't mind too much that my muscles tired easily. One thing that I love about climbing - you don't have to be an expert to enjoy the activity.

Another trip highlight - the "booze bus tour" that a group of us took. Here is our group, hanging out in the back of the bus!

This was after our Avery Brewery 'tour' - not that it was much of a tour of the brewery, but we did drink some mighty fine beers. I hadn't finished one of my tastings, so they let me take it on the bus where I finished it en route to our next brewery. I was obviously having fun and had started to feel the effects of the beer!

Michael and I are enjoying some liquid refreshment at the last brewery, Upslope.

And then there was the Boulder Stroke and Stride. Not one of my better moments, at least in terms of the swim, but the scenery was pretty beautiful. Here we are before the race - it's pretty casual.

I had a fairly strong start - I'm wearing the gray swim cap. I tried to ignore all of the people who were sporting Ironman gear (like the guy with the purple 70.3 cap right beside me), but that should have been a clue that it was going to be a competitive field.

Exiting the water after a slooooooow swim!

The transition! I would probably have a better time if I invested in a 'race belt', but I like being old school with the pins that hold up the bib.

The sky was pretty phenomenal - maybe that helped motivate me through the run?

Ah, almost at the finish line - with a nice downhill slope to push us along. That DEFINITELY helped!

Anyway, after lots of good times in Boulder, we went up to Breckenridge which is a mere 5,000 feet or so higher than Boulder! I thought that I had acclimated to the altitude, but the change in altitude pretty much destroyed that silly belief. The weather was fantastic in the mountains - chilly at night, and up to 70 or 75 max during the day. Perfect! We spent a few days in Breckenridge with my side of the family - aunt and uncle, cousins, and my parents.

On the penultimate day of our trip, we 'bagged' a 14-er thanks to my parents' request and/or insistence. A few years ago, they climbed up Mt. Democrat which stands at 14,148. Mt. Lincoln, another 14-er (or a mountain that is 14,000 feet or higher) is along the same trail, and they tried to summit BOTH in one day, which would have been an admirable feat. Unfortunately, the high winds served as a major deterrent, so they turned back. This year, however, they were determined to summit Mt. Lincoln, and Michael and I accompanied them, sometimes cheerfully, sometimes a bit more begrudgingly!

It was a beautiful day for a long hike, and we enjoyed some spectacular scenery along the way. Here we are approaching the trailhead:

This was early enough in the hike that I'm actually smiling, although I do think that the smile is a bit forced. The altitude was pretty tough - starting at around 12,00 and hiking a mere 2,000 feet UP.

At this point, we were on the ridge, approaching Mt. Lincoln, and it was COLD and WINDY! The views definitely helped, but I also focused on moving along so that I didn't get too cold!

But, we all eventually made it to the summit at 14,286! This is my third 14-er, and not that I'm a total peakbagger, but there is something rather thrilling about summiting a mountain. I believe that we felt more relief than any kind of triumph once re reached the summit. The descent was almost more difficult than the ascent (we were tired, it was rockier than I remembered and that was hard on the feet and joints!), but a hot bowl of soup and a cold beer followed by a nap helped me recover rather quickly!

Finally, on Friday, our very last day in Colorado, Michael and I managed to motivate ourselves to get on our bikes. This was the first trip that we had taken our bikes, and we both really enjoyed all of the miles that we covered in the saddle. We rode from Frisco to Vail Pass, a 22-mile round trip experience with a 1,600 foot climb. THAT was tough, but it was a great bike path and we felt pretty happy once we arrived at the pass:

The best thing about this bike ride? Once we started back from the pass, it was all downhill, obviously, so we cruised down and fully enjoyed the ride!

It seems that we just returned from Colorado yesterday, and in other ways, I feel that we've been settled into our typical routine at home for a while now. Either way, these photos do remind me of the good times and the mini-adventures that we had on this particular Colorado trip!