Hi there! Yes, it's been a while. What with legislative work gearing up, my body still not functioning as well as I'd like, and various mental deficiencies (sounds better than butt-lazy), I've not been out and about, nor chronicling the activities of the active members in the house. 

This past weekend I was determined to do something. Today marks the sixth septiversary of my crash, and though I still maintain a daily diet of ibuprofen, I needed to get out and about. So, after a preliminary test on Wednesday where I went out for 1.5 miles during Mikaela's soccer practice, I thought things were acceptable for a longer journey. I originally thought I would head for Dardanelles Lake starting from the Big Meadows trailhead, but  - "upon further review" - that seemed a bit adventurous for a first journey. Instead, I simply headed to the Dog Water on Hobart Road. From the house, that is about a 2.5 mile round trip, with a decent climb thrown in. 

It was hot, dusty, and my lungs and ribs and shoulder creaky. I hiked up to the Dog Water and a little beyond, turning back at the 2 mile point. On the way down, I got all wild and stuff, and wogged. What's wogging, you ask? It's that slow pace between a walk and a jog. I clocked myself at 13:30 min/mile. Downhill. That, my friends, is wogging. I was tired when I got home, but felt pretty OK overall.

Saturday was supposed to be a swim meet for Spencer (and by, default for me too, as the charioteer), but he'd been unsuccessfully fighting a cold for the latter part of the week, and swimming didn't seem to be a Good Idea. Instead, I was able to take in Mikaela's soccer game. I'm glad I did. It was by far the team's best game in years, and was Mikaela's best game ever. The team shut out the visiting Elko girls, and Mikaela scored three times! Nice power kicks from the left side. Proud Dad-O!

After the game, I was feeling the high and decided to wog again. I did the V&T out and back: a 3+ mile round trip. I did it all with a running motion, but I did have to stop. I am not sure whether or not my inability to take in enough O2 is a function of simply being out of shape or residual effects of my pulmonary contusion. I've heard bruised lungs can take a long time to heal. The rib and shoulder pains were still there from the crash, but relegated to the category of "Usual Pain" that always accompanies me on a run - or a wog in this case.

Sunday, I dragged Spencer and Brando on a hike up the Stairway to Hell and over to Hobart Road and back - 4 miles. The weather was perfect, the whining less so. Actually, Spencer was pretty stout about it, despite the breathing issues and throat burn from his cold. I'm glad he came. Brando too. Brando? He's an exchange student from Sicily staying with us until December. Good kid, eats everything. I'll post more about him another time.

Speaking of weather, after analysis, the world record high temperature of 136F in Libya has been overturned. The record is now 134F set in Death Valley on July 10, 1913. Read the story here.

This weekend's activities included 3 kid soccer games (Both finally won for the first time all season! Both in their last game.) on Saturday, requiring shuttling between Reno and Gardnerville. I decided that Sunday would be a day for me to get out to the high country before the weather shuts it all down. 

The weather on Sunday was perfect and the leaf show in Hope Valley - well if it wasn't prime it was penultimate! Though I have linked the photos below to their larger cousins on slang4201.com, the real good ones are here.

Once the drive to Blue Lake was done, it was time to head out on foot. There was only a single car at the trailhead when I arrived, and I took that to be a good sign. The route didn't go quite as planned; I abbeyed right at the start. :-\ I knew where the trail was supposed to go, so I headed in that general direction and eventually found it again. My little sojourn probably added a mile or so to my total distance, but that's ok. I wasn't out for anything but a good Sunday in the Sierra. The elevation profile is brutal:

On the trip I did have my usual companions of Bad Form and Constant Pain. Notably absent was Fear of Failure. I think I know how to banish him - don't set a goal. No goal = no possibility of failure. Sweet!

Obviously someone else came along for at least part of the journey: No Inhibition. Joy showed briefly as well - the day was just too perfect to not experience joy at some point! Critical Nature also was a DNS. I think he was too worn out at the end to show up. I know I was flagging hard at the end. 

The trail was sparse in places, and I missed it completely on the descent into Grouse Lake. Instead, I simply dropped straight through the trees, missing the lake by about 1/4 mile. But once I got there, the serenity was palpable. No breeze, and even no birds singing. It was utterly silent. I did a loop around the lake snapping a few photos and generally enjoying the perfect day.

The climb back out was pretty rugged: steep and the trail wasn't clearly defined. I guess that's what you get when in a wilderness area. On the way back, I finally encountered another hiker on the trail. After nearly 10 miles of solitude, I finally met someone. Good thing I had put my clothes on again. I did a fair amount of running mixed in with the hiking. What to call that? riking? hrunning? Beats me. I know that when I'm out there solo, I don't really care how I'm moving along, when I'm going to get somewhere or really even where I am going. I'm trying to simply enjoy the experience of being. And being outside.

Of course, I figure all this out at the end of October, when the weather is about to turn. :-\

Next week: Dardanelles Lake. (weather permitting)