Goal: Climb Mt. Rose, Status: FINALLY!

There's this mountain. Being smack up against the eastern side of the Sierras there's a lot of mountains around here, but there's one in particular that I've been wanting to climb for awhile. She is the tallest peak this side of Tahoe, and easy to spot from almost anywhere in Reno. In the winter there is nothing lovelier than her bright snow-covered peak above the gray desert scrub.

For three years I have been wanting to climb to the top. The first summer I made serious plans to climb the peak I found out I was pregnant. I still tried to climb it, but by the time Mike's field season was over and we had time to do it I was six months along. To my credit I made it half-way up, but the top was more than I could do at that point. However, I was ok with that. I just figured I would do it the following year with Luci in a carrier on my back, as opposed to in my stomach. That didn't pan out either. Finishing my lecturing contract with UNR, nursing and caring for a baby, while at the same time getting me and the Bean ready to join Mike at his field site for the summer turned out to be a lot. Oh, and we planned a BBQ with 40+ people for my friend's family who were visiting from the Basque country. As always Mt. Rose kept getting shoved down the priority list.

And alas, after the huge 3-week vacation to Bear Lake and Yellowstone in addition to all the other summer craziness I thought I was going to miss out again. Add to this that the trail head is only a half-hour drive from our house and you can understand my frustration!

But not this time! My parents decided to take Luci for a few days after Thanksgiving to give Mike and I some much needed time to catch up - with each other and our to-do lists. And so we jumped on the opportunity Sunday and FINALLY climbed Mt. Rose. Ordinarily I would have thought this would be too late in the season, but with as little snow as we've had it wasn't a problem. Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled we were able to climb to the top but I'm not thrilled about the lack of snow that high up (10,776 ft.). It was a little under 10 miles round trip - a pretty good day hike - but we managed to do it in about five and a half hours. Not too bad for as out-of-shape as we've felt lately.

About half-way up to the summit is a waterfall, which we've been to a number of times. It makes for a great half-day hike. It was really funny to see the entire thing frozen solid.

From the waterfall you wind out east through a valley and then the trail curves up along a creek bed and up the west side of the peak. This is a summit view of the valley and waterfall.

I'm a big one on texture. I absolutely love natural patterns and textures, especially wood and stone. Near the summit there was a fallen lodge-pole pine whose roots had obviously weathered a few winters. I couldn't resist the texture.

It was cloudy and overcast, and the wind gusts near the summit were almost unbearable. But, the views of Tahoe, Donner Lake, Reno, and Washoe Valley were worth it.

We spent some time at the top snacking on nuts and dates we'd brought. This is otherwise known as the "OMG, gimmee calories 'cause I'm about to die," period where we enjoy the view and recover before we head back down. And where we take the obligatory summit shots.

And then we came home, made dinner and a fire, and spent the rest of the evening curled up under a down comforter feeling sore and content.

Running to Stand Still

A 5-mile hike through mountains (I'm thinking of a couple different ones I've done this summer in the Sierras and one in Yellowstone):
I can do this without a problem. OK, I'm tired the next day. But that's about it.

Today it was all I could do to run a half-mile without stopping. Allergies, asthma, something is kicking my butt.

I admit that I haven't run very regularly this summer. Periodically, but nothing consistent. Maybe that's it. Then I think, no, I've done softball. Luci, Scout and I have gone walking or hiking about every other day all summer with only a few exceptions. Maybe I just suck at running. This is incredibly likely.

In my younger days, I hated running. As hard as I tried in high school P.E. classes I could never run a mile in less than 9:30 - and even that was pushing it. I didn't start to like running until I was in college and had joined Hapkido. I would run in the evenings and let out every ounce of excess energy and stress I had built up during the day. It was wonderful. Especially during the spring and summer when the jasmine was in bloom.

I bring this up because I've decided to run a 5K (3 miles). I've been wanting to do this for awhile. I'm not sure why. Perhaps my college roomate, who's now a nationally-ranked triathlete, inspired me. I've never felt like an athlete. It wasn't until martial arts that I even considered myself an active, quasi-athletic person. And maybe it's the absence of regular martial training that's driving me. I'm not sure.

I want to do it to prove to myself that I can. That's all.

Obviously I'm starting off small, but that's OK with me. But since the one I'm looking at is in Sacramento I figure I have the advantage of training at altitude, right?

All I know is that after today I have a lot of work to do. Ouch, my lungs hurt already.

You want proof, eh?

So, G., the consumate fisherman, wants concrete evidence of our fish. Well, here it is.



Not a record breaker but good eatin' nontheless. Hey, G - do you know if this is a brook trout? I haven't had a chance to look it up to verify yet.

Pure Bliss is . . .

going backpacking for the first time in three years

catching a fish and cooking it over a campfire


waking up, and glancing over the tops of pine trees to see a waterfall, lake, and sunrise-pink mountains covered with spots of snow

eating gorp for breakfast


feeling my leg muscles burn while my eyes marvel at the Sierra landscape

In case it's not obvious by now, I've missed backpacking. This last weekend Mike and I were able to get away for the weekend (thanks again N & P). We headed south along the eastern escarpment of the Sierra and parked at the Green Creek Trailhead south of Bridgeport. From there we headed into the Hoover Wilderness, which is located at the northeast edge of Yosemite National Park. The trail is fairly moderate, nothing epic, but is it ever gorgeous this time of year.

Due to my clumsiness, I tend to look at the ground a lot - I argue it's why I'm better at flowers than birds. The wildflowers were just getting started, but to name a few: columbine, lupine, asters, buckwheat & pussypaws, snowberry, serviceberry, wild iris, phlox, mules ears, and corn lilies. Mike is the bird man, of course. And thanks to him I also got to see a red-breasted sapsucker for the first time.

Mike is apparently on his way to becoming a fish man as well. He caught a nine-inch brook trout at Green Lake, where we camped the first night at the base of Gabbro Peak (second pic). It had the most beautiful translucent red fins! So of course I insisted we take pictures . . . before we roasted it over an open flame and ate it for dinner :)

The next morning we hiked up to East Lake. This lake is clear, cold, windy, and just fantastic. The campsites aren't as good but the spectacular view of Gabbro, Page, and Epidote Peaks on the west side of the lake was well worth the hike (Epidote is the third pic above).

The best part was remembering how good it feels to sleep outside, and to be up near tree line where I breathe easier and can't stop smiling (One of these days I'll figure out how to describe that feeling in a unique way and without sounding so romantic/cheesy.) Part of me might wonder if it's just the chance to have a break from motherhood, but I've always felt like this. And I've been in love with this stretch of the Sierras since Mike and I spent the summer of 2002 in Lone Pine while he surveyed snowy plovers at Owens Lake. Even when I was pregnant I craved the smell of dry granite and pine so badly I dreamed about it.

And then we drove home and went out for sushi. I'm telling you . . . pure bliss.

P.S. This one's for you M. babe. Maybe we should start a chain? Open one in Reno and spell it the right way. R. can be the nightly entertainment and T. can bartend. Whatcha think? :)

Saturday Walks

She's one year old!

One year old . . . but I don't think she knows the difference. For Luci everyday is a fun and exciting birthday full of new places, people, things - we're exploring the world of nouns, if you will.

I did fall into the "What was I doing a year ago?" reverie, but only for about 10 minutes. It was fun to think about the reasons why I was screaming and smiling then, versus the reasons why I scream and smile now.

For the actual occasion we went snowshoeing up near Spooner Summit by Lake Tahoe. Not that we needed snowshoes in a lot of places, but we had a good time nonetheless.

We also discovered that Luci is apparentally not getting enough protien. She wasn't interested in any of the food I brought for her and instead went ravenous after Mikes' beef jerky.

After a day of uphill hiking we took our weary legs to the grocery store for some dinner fixin's, cake, and candle. The cake choice was an interesting debate. I was thinking aesthetics (I have to send everyone pics of this, right?), and Mike was thinking taste. Mike won and we settled on a small cheesecake sampler. Keeping Mike from cheesecake is often a very physical endevour that involves dragging him, moping and whining, from the bakery department - Luci and I didn't have the energy nor did we want to crush the eager grin on his face.

We all went to bed smiling and full - it was a good day!