tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33730877589380155552024-02-19T01:13:07.359-08:00My Velvet BumperCome jump over the back fence with meMy Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.comBlogger109125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-68706570256055226402014-11-14T23:26:00.000-08:002014-11-14T23:26:30.742-08:00Lucky Guy.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfQcvYaz1VXK454aCq7W-iGuMYJAVhm25tJs_jD1QC29_BxJnRgWX5Dzj7K0JG67h9URvdtKANoYUa6AoZ3AQ5o8zGpOxCRj9hqEbNcVEkwM_PvcDBmm3SHGG4468dcPEYMh871ZBC2pc/s1600/20141107-IMG_4432.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfQcvYaz1VXK454aCq7W-iGuMYJAVhm25tJs_jD1QC29_BxJnRgWX5Dzj7K0JG67h9URvdtKANoYUa6AoZ3AQ5o8zGpOxCRj9hqEbNcVEkwM_PvcDBmm3SHGG4468dcPEYMh871ZBC2pc/s1600/20141107-IMG_4432.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Sometimes I tell Phil how handsome he is. Sometimes he responds back, "You're handsome." So when you read the title of this post, you might of thought I was talking about Phil... turns out, <i>I'm</i> the lucky guy here. Yes me.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_vz_Ls8CdQ5bIXCPitmpbUaa9SvxzBsU5lBTpZxWKIJWY6RVbkGMgrfOzBHM7h8xYIaXGIhUt2Tx5ob9JYtKU4x1ZTiVSzUeRqXOeP0PMhCrdLcXHaek4CU8fNMkU3BYfqSxP_IeFcY8/s1600/20141108-IMG_4452.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_vz_Ls8CdQ5bIXCPitmpbUaa9SvxzBsU5lBTpZxWKIJWY6RVbkGMgrfOzBHM7h8xYIaXGIhUt2Tx5ob9JYtKU4x1ZTiVSzUeRqXOeP0PMhCrdLcXHaek4CU8fNMkU3BYfqSxP_IeFcY8/s1600/20141108-IMG_4452.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a> </div>
<br />
If you have read my blog or seem something on my Facebook, or get this - actually talked to me in the last month, you would probably know by one means or another that Phil and I are engaged. We are going to get married! It isn't every day you come across a man such a Phil, a real keeper.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRS5cfwmVrVxcA2hiqt6fUpytKryJzv6dgav2So7hYj2OwTIG6NO7ov0PMKIArcHvjxarARwtZZxSFQ1YHxgpKkKuKg2SyOxMRgFUDuv_6tPUL-0FA_pMA7QgtZiU3TrlmqmPjrA3Zvfc/s1600/20141108-IMG_4721.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRS5cfwmVrVxcA2hiqt6fUpytKryJzv6dgav2So7hYj2OwTIG6NO7ov0PMKIArcHvjxarARwtZZxSFQ1YHxgpKkKuKg2SyOxMRgFUDuv_6tPUL-0FA_pMA7QgtZiU3TrlmqmPjrA3Zvfc/s1600/20141108-IMG_4721.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
When you meet him, you know he is good. You know he cares. You know he has integrity and he has depth. You can hear it in his voice as well as the space between his words. You know he is listening.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhubaViC4KCytWNNcpzQn9MOhbwYij34Vl71sTexbtjIveCtqFofyayT5jyl6aeT9l6hkRV1ttFEXlLRIhJqumcGuuCz_Obmm4EzZP_LhLDaZ4tpZE3uI-nRYXDGnHI7QbPRyWvgx9qcfo/s1600/20141108-IMG_4836.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhubaViC4KCytWNNcpzQn9MOhbwYij34Vl71sTexbtjIveCtqFofyayT5jyl6aeT9l6hkRV1ttFEXlLRIhJqumcGuuCz_Obmm4EzZP_LhLDaZ4tpZE3uI-nRYXDGnHI7QbPRyWvgx9qcfo/s1600/20141108-IMG_4836.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Phil respects me. Encourages me and comforts me in weakness. I am so grateful that I will soon be calling him husband. I truly am one lucky guy.My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-16940740715788622702014-09-29T22:29:00.000-07:002014-09-29T22:37:18.172-07:00Best Decision We Have Ever Made<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhabTd75uRYBFRSvZTvvjcNv6hcXSHc78OS9P7Kvgo9ZPqukOK9pTQEGwLg7qr2p8szn4bUFyuroZ63flNgtzcmWs9tc1-GeS53sEGSmbSNW6zl6NbuOlsWcBjsWSlmZ3dY4rduUR04N3s/s1600/Phil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhabTd75uRYBFRSvZTvvjcNv6hcXSHc78OS9P7Kvgo9ZPqukOK9pTQEGwLg7qr2p8szn4bUFyuroZ63flNgtzcmWs9tc1-GeS53sEGSmbSNW6zl6NbuOlsWcBjsWSlmZ3dY4rduUR04N3s/s1600/Phil.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I have been the proud fiancee of this amazing guy for a whopping 2 days. Let me tell you, I have never been so popular on Facebook. I finally found out the secret to getting 100+ likes - get engaged.<br />
<br />
Getting over 100 likes is no everyday occurrence for Phil or myself. Getting nearly 100 COMMENTS is like, <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=fuhgeddaboudit" target="_blank">fuhgeddaboudit,</a> never gunna happen. But now, blowing up the internet isn't just for my little sister, where reaching over 100 likes is an everyday occurrence. It's for your average Joe and Jane too... or, your average Phil and Julie. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5hRJA2kNQZ9gwcdMAPF5n3XDZbLPQtg7heswxZD-MoKWcNPcYlrQOQTgBu5exEmiQi1rD_wvHRQy2Vcr7mJcWKvxCyxIjzZWEAHXMsOw-EpeQggvj49EzpjZmzsRQB6Izh4n0WXLkClM/s1600/pic1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5hRJA2kNQZ9gwcdMAPF5n3XDZbLPQtg7heswxZD-MoKWcNPcYlrQOQTgBu5exEmiQi1rD_wvHRQy2Vcr7mJcWKvxCyxIjzZWEAHXMsOw-EpeQggvj49EzpjZmzsRQB6Izh4n0WXLkClM/s1600/pic1.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Thank you all so much for your congratulations, kind words and well wishes. We are so so so very happy and excited about being engaged. I keep joking around about how, "Everything is so different when you're engaged..." but part of me really and truly feels like it is.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN6ufBHB2Th28eV4WEc0SfLKu7woqmvxvKuNRIi0oymT34Gc0fDvWoSto1z1xsDliGCoCvVEfcrPE4_03Py7RRbS9URpOet-dLWN54nJxXCNIsXvudtwiDvtjDEIhFqohcO5XPl-faBNc/s1600/pic2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN6ufBHB2Th28eV4WEc0SfLKu7woqmvxvKuNRIi0oymT34Gc0fDvWoSto1z1xsDliGCoCvVEfcrPE4_03Py7RRbS9URpOet-dLWN54nJxXCNIsXvudtwiDvtjDEIhFqohcO5XPl-faBNc/s1600/pic2.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Some of you have heard the story but for those of you who haven't and are interested... Phil and I had to drive to Fresno for the CalTeach program that he is currently in. On our way there, which happens that the quickest way is through Yosemite National Park, Phil pulled the car over to "take a peep" - which is our endearingly adorable Aseltine-ism way of saying "take a pee." He said there was probably going to be a good view and that I should get out and take some pictures.<br />
<br />
Let me remind you, it was barely 6am and I could see from the car window that at this particular pull-out there wasn't a view. I opted to stay in the warm car and began to dig into one of the breakfast burritos that I made.<br />
<br />
With a mouth full of egg, tortilla and cheese, I look to my right to see Phil standing outside the passenger door with a little box in his hands. Phil opened the door and got down on one knee. He said he wanted to wait for a better view but he just couldn't wait any longer, he then asked me to marry him.<br />
<br />
Of course I said yes.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYDDzL8l-fI_Cr0JWK9TIgmyJNUGK5u8j8OlaY5lqZrU7jpbJcWpHAHhxmkjBsuLUCO1e-i9_0gMFkTTot9qUULN9dSDatsGcgrBkKxlqLbfzibn1Tc7j83HIbDV4GLlA4DJKWV78DBCo/s1600/pic3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYDDzL8l-fI_Cr0JWK9TIgmyJNUGK5u8j8OlaY5lqZrU7jpbJcWpHAHhxmkjBsuLUCO1e-i9_0gMFkTTot9qUULN9dSDatsGcgrBkKxlqLbfzibn1Tc7j83HIbDV4GLlA4DJKWV78DBCo/s1600/pic3.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I have known since I met Phil in 2005 that he was a special guy. Phil came out to Colorado 2 times to visit and climb, we were friends. Friendsssss... right. I was completely naieve and in the dark of Phil's ulterior motives to our friendship. It wasn't until a little over 3 years ago that I saw Phil in the light that I now see him in on a daily basis. Phil is <i>still</i> my friend. He is my best friend actually. But he is more then that, much <i>much</i> more. He is my lover, my confidante, my teammate and the one I plan on spending the rest of my life with. He is the one that I look forward to waking up to and the one I miss when we are apart. He is the one I can be completely myself around. He pushes and encourages me to do things that I am passionate about and supports me in whatever hair brain idea I come up with next. He doesn't care if I want shave my head again and when I tell him that I feel fat he tells me I'm beautiful. I am so lucky to have found Phil. <span style="text-align: center;">He really is the one for me. </span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_j_PFhd56LrnPT9rqFyEngp01g5PQ_FBETPMkiBbHkN7-1JRpoxV7_LnMDfVxn5LlPJJoPSvEJJLfADLqdTqUPgCGTtRgrFbTKg2edMUkwSPVFnKyvOaZDcoIY08g6RiG2OuXbNk26G8/s1600/ring.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_j_PFhd56LrnPT9rqFyEngp01g5PQ_FBETPMkiBbHkN7-1JRpoxV7_LnMDfVxn5LlPJJoPSvEJJLfADLqdTqUPgCGTtRgrFbTKg2edMUkwSPVFnKyvOaZDcoIY08g6RiG2OuXbNk26G8/s1600/ring.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So today I got off work early and we went bouldering at the Buttermilks. After work we stopped in Manor Market to get some tortilla chips. When looking at all the options, I see some fancy ones that say "HOT" across the front. Knowing Phil likes pretty much anything spicy, I suggest that we get those chips. He looks at me as if saying "Really?" You know it's true love when you aren't a fan of spicy and <i>you</i> suggest the spicy chips. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We walk out the door, and with our hot tortilla chips in hand, Phil opens the bag and shoves a few in his mouth. He smiles in utter and complete satisfaction. He looks over at me and goes "This is the best decision we have ever made." Yes, it is nice to have a guy who can find gratification in life's simple pleasures. I try a few chips myself and actually am not too trilled, too many spices, not even as good as a Dorito even though these are <i>organic blue corn </i>and blah blah blah. I look over at him and say "No it's not."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It's like he didn't have to think, Phil immediately gestured to my ring and said, "Yeah, you're right, <i>that's</i> the best decision we have ever made." </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgQWnKl-7wbO9mGnZL2j75mZX2XAm9wR4Nv9lkL0pPHZOBalqBW_3OHaaKOC6xJoB729ESX2h4LCqqhtGIU4-bMC_wrNwxQ2NsVJC5Mc8ksaSkO0iN1aWTyDtsagzHgkUJZI-TbYtTTzM/s1600/IMG_3702.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgQWnKl-7wbO9mGnZL2j75mZX2XAm9wR4Nv9lkL0pPHZOBalqBW_3OHaaKOC6xJoB729ESX2h4LCqqhtGIU4-bMC_wrNwxQ2NsVJC5Mc8ksaSkO0iN1aWTyDtsagzHgkUJZI-TbYtTTzM/s1600/IMG_3702.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-82951690984836106682014-08-25T21:48:00.000-07:002014-08-26T11:59:19.255-07:00The New Abode<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQICzDVslHZczcQSjeXYa9gd2x13nz9SeRZ0Tx0YsKiZEQGfMyXPYj6Kqqhp9dXSHZOzCqybIaQDFhTSr1djjyQXtzX6Qx880PFisad6PBa2Zq9rIfdcYZyFkd-CFzVz3HjWDAnydzYWo/s1600/IMG_2286.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQICzDVslHZczcQSjeXYa9gd2x13nz9SeRZ0Tx0YsKiZEQGfMyXPYj6Kqqhp9dXSHZOzCqybIaQDFhTSr1djjyQXtzX6Qx880PFisad6PBa2Zq9rIfdcYZyFkd-CFzVz3HjWDAnydzYWo/s1600/IMG_2286.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Our friends Hannah and Dustin recently moved into a really cute new place. Last night they had us over for nachos and to play Small World. Everyone is going to have to get use to me being behind a camera lens... because I just can't put it down. <br />
<br />
The nachos were great, Small World was great (although I didn't win - which rarely happens - so whatever) and the company was, as always, outstanding.<br />
<br />
Can't wait to do it again sometime. Stay tuned because Hannah and Dustin said they would let me take couples/engagement photos of them... even though they are already married. Maybe we will call them anniversary pictures!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxQn4ufMjR9DbNwEtiNxfikky4uQPD0amwxaUNz3sgeNhFPFu8WXPaIwAnu20uqFe2CaAJV6N0tgis473tIhRwC-fzpN_fiaobF7BZGLfCTZnCh2j_lUHVzsWYhi54wVolAOGy-qctYZ8/s1600/IMG_2274.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxQn4ufMjR9DbNwEtiNxfikky4uQPD0amwxaUNz3sgeNhFPFu8WXPaIwAnu20uqFe2CaAJV6N0tgis473tIhRwC-fzpN_fiaobF7BZGLfCTZnCh2j_lUHVzsWYhi54wVolAOGy-qctYZ8/s1600/IMG_2274.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0ZTEAaDLqEyBYDV3GcPbi1ivoZw68ncgT_qxacpEDIAoZ1mgznjQSZRhck2Xys6E9XChbifvHAhOblCt3zUthjNPahegMQMsX_n8O7ga8zTH8jodtLRR9jvIbOrjBCwpMYWMZ6poKn4Q/s1600/IMG_2292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0ZTEAaDLqEyBYDV3GcPbi1ivoZw68ncgT_qxacpEDIAoZ1mgznjQSZRhck2Xys6E9XChbifvHAhOblCt3zUthjNPahegMQMsX_n8O7ga8zTH8jodtLRR9jvIbOrjBCwpMYWMZ6poKn4Q/s1600/IMG_2292.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-67077445884901111352014-08-25T21:39:00.003-07:002014-08-26T11:59:40.104-07:00A Good Place to Start is Somewhere<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMKHTt9PCR9wK2yuSgbwFKYU-vcGvUBluvrf_9JKbTa5m2fZ4sbRcCp-utV2omiUfFImZGQAdo77OuF8LzcHRBg6Jr-v_1SPRqSHuBkYtff4Kg-l1JQt-cY4oNrMgyDdGxZmEf7EDUzG0/s1600/IMG_2194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh1wLUIu12Y9xXMtnMhfhubdVM2IbkqoLwwgiUJkYD-2aMCgfm15JdwVDvNR21BdKl8pZCd9-rpFbet-__8lzE6Ste-98w7GDhVPTbA4dPYb6i6rDLFhamCX_VL2bM5E1h0QzHcZA2OhE/s1600/IMG_2224.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh1wLUIu12Y9xXMtnMhfhubdVM2IbkqoLwwgiUJkYD-2aMCgfm15JdwVDvNR21BdKl8pZCd9-rpFbet-__8lzE6Ste-98w7GDhVPTbA4dPYb6i6rDLFhamCX_VL2bM5E1h0QzHcZA2OhE/s1600/IMG_2224.JPG" height="265" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
My neighbors Tiffany, Nathan and Jaylenn welcomed their new baby girl into the family today, Paislee (such a cute name!) and I was fortunate enough that they let me snap a few pictures of them YESTERDAY. I didn't want Tiffany to walk too far so we just stayed in our backyard, which ended up turning into a picture perfect backdrop. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6X1zf3bUnLInx4CrBkDhIH2f7DcyIqdEhYAQ7fGuQ41QL4AHR_6VTH3S5xrw70Lip13oMBav8YaY1ij5jn-LlUCiHRYfbMJe2gWaU35XSavZ4Oh0JCl9YyKa1_1t_xanR2gtT8_-KIQk/s1600/IMG_2238.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6X1zf3bUnLInx4CrBkDhIH2f7DcyIqdEhYAQ7fGuQ41QL4AHR_6VTH3S5xrw70Lip13oMBav8YaY1ij5jn-LlUCiHRYfbMJe2gWaU35XSavZ4Oh0JCl9YyKa1_1t_xanR2gtT8_-KIQk/s1600/IMG_2238.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMKHTt9PCR9wK2yuSgbwFKYU-vcGvUBluvrf_9JKbTa5m2fZ4sbRcCp-utV2omiUfFImZGQAdo77OuF8LzcHRBg6Jr-v_1SPRqSHuBkYtff4Kg-l1JQt-cY4oNrMgyDdGxZmEf7EDUzG0/s1600/IMG_2194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMKHTt9PCR9wK2yuSgbwFKYU-vcGvUBluvrf_9JKbTa5m2fZ4sbRcCp-utV2omiUfFImZGQAdo77OuF8LzcHRBg6Jr-v_1SPRqSHuBkYtff4Kg-l1JQt-cY4oNrMgyDdGxZmEf7EDUzG0/s1600/IMG_2194.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
They let me fumble around with my camera, which I still don't feel
qualified to be holding, but lo and behold, we got some nice shots after about 20 minutes of messing around.<br />
<br />
Thanks again Tiffany and Nathan! I can't wait to take some more pictures of the family with the new baby girl.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7hfrg466wLEX43OWExSrXd6y8NUBJ_UczIbrVAFD8Lc1Y9C_GeJWtxUi7DJBdkfT_uCUmBI9t-uKcQIKfX5UR9zK5cMsrSYaFp-EjpKK-czal9R0kgdMC_cjhOdzjVIiRa7yWMjaQfc4/s1600/IMG_2250.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7hfrg466wLEX43OWExSrXd6y8NUBJ_UczIbrVAFD8Lc1Y9C_GeJWtxUi7DJBdkfT_uCUmBI9t-uKcQIKfX5UR9zK5cMsrSYaFp-EjpKK-czal9R0kgdMC_cjhOdzjVIiRa7yWMjaQfc4/s1600/IMG_2250.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-50984693886259565962014-08-23T12:57:00.000-07:002014-08-23T12:57:47.665-07:00Helping a Brother Out<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUpBoylcwKxHHRd4Us2ASqUrAuBFfb5nEvOAXdEAPYhsmyNaLkHTPiUNz_oIeY9U0x14AG9-ck1KhvRF__hH-i3i5d1oI-DWNsAklWMQkRmt5WFJ86631Ax_Spfzd0iqB0G1CX66yLwaA/s1600/Scan+1.tiff" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUpBoylcwKxHHRd4Us2ASqUrAuBFfb5nEvOAXdEAPYhsmyNaLkHTPiUNz_oIeY9U0x14AG9-ck1KhvRF__hH-i3i5d1oI-DWNsAklWMQkRmt5WFJ86631Ax_Spfzd0iqB0G1CX66yLwaA/s1600/Scan+1.tiff" height="400" width="288" /></a></div>
<br />
Acey and Stacey have been doing some really neat things recently. Check out their website <a href="http://www.revolutionmotionpictures.com/" target="_blank">http://www.revolutionmotionpictures.com/ </a>and see for yourself. I am always happy help a brother out when I can. Usually it's just contributing a doodle here or there. And... Acey is so flattering, just about anything I draw he is happy with. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPkWd8WOr5_wHVKMFNUi5t5Db2l_IcezBNvHhKJDtNATZ4cycqDOPdqLOkq-zWIqde0c01x7BnZyAsjYwcm002w6TrjyTnQZRGgP9NJXGcvFi_0b1cKuGpDQxsJO3ZbkO70oSB3QGWfro/s1600/Scan+2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPkWd8WOr5_wHVKMFNUi5t5Db2l_IcezBNvHhKJDtNATZ4cycqDOPdqLOkq-zWIqde0c01x7BnZyAsjYwcm002w6TrjyTnQZRGgP9NJXGcvFi_0b1cKuGpDQxsJO3ZbkO70oSB3QGWfro/s1600/Scan+2.jpeg" height="400" width="308" /></a></div>
<br />
Since I am currently a little frustrated with photography, picking up a pencil is quite relaxing and enjoyable. I have been thinking about combining the two... just haven't got there quite yet. Stay tuned!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUFzq_yKt09gZDFxUlvfGXYoXm2ri_Z11e7bvGqca12zy7wj7Aa_sNnRjL-QZgyEzTp_4ooMvwCP4s2v2hVZTFG87TwjfRInhX5pKovWVPZPr2j6Ovi-h-Lvfane50K0aR8j-hDaIuhMA/s1600/Scan+3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUFzq_yKt09gZDFxUlvfGXYoXm2ri_Z11e7bvGqca12zy7wj7Aa_sNnRjL-QZgyEzTp_4ooMvwCP4s2v2hVZTFG87TwjfRInhX5pKovWVPZPr2j6Ovi-h-Lvfane50K0aR8j-hDaIuhMA/s1600/Scan+3.jpeg" height="400" width="308" /></a></div>
<br />My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-22681203467371469782014-08-20T20:54:00.003-07:002014-08-20T20:55:21.577-07:00Still Feeling a Million Miles Away<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUcSPjgo951hvFbsXw-lqYy5xiAzsikOMUap3WhljI2Mf45mtjpqzl3Jf4z-UEJeMrmqa-aLu_FkD4SiVdl6mfAVSHfjQhnGZuGsGlG6tlmUeU9lRa0tzfGVcWuJSJY93M1S3j5WUvrNs/s1600/IMG_1811.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUcSPjgo951hvFbsXw-lqYy5xiAzsikOMUap3WhljI2Mf45mtjpqzl3Jf4z-UEJeMrmqa-aLu_FkD4SiVdl6mfAVSHfjQhnGZuGsGlG6tlmUeU9lRa0tzfGVcWuJSJY93M1S3j5WUvrNs/s1600/IMG_1811.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I have had my new camera for 3 days and becoming a photographer feels further away then ever. Still randomly guessing at what my aperture/shutter speed/ISO should be. Continually reading stuff online... I'll get it. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbOBf_tekRIVVloHq03LzsNYF95aUA2AlEmZYMKXerklP4ZQXo6L_qUHEWn2U_KGYEa6cDBY_Q0t14vaObCYaIv5NzPp9duKngZNAuyQR_BrVmwn2zgf_X4PgYl5dVDaj-LmfayaBGqmI/s1600/IMG_1832.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbOBf_tekRIVVloHq03LzsNYF95aUA2AlEmZYMKXerklP4ZQXo6L_qUHEWn2U_KGYEa6cDBY_Q0t14vaObCYaIv5NzPp9duKngZNAuyQR_BrVmwn2zgf_X4PgYl5dVDaj-LmfayaBGqmI/s1600/IMG_1832.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I seriously need some humans to let me take their pictures. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbRE5IdUfGBxspW5MDScuyXyyIVKytFRcAD9Y1_O8HyGBD56s0wmAN9BEOvpasEPoVRMWVr_wyghcw0aLq42ZL9J7zGbUlsu3JUTXDc4Cqekwf3ktdVNCrS4FUgIetpc17YHNUjxGb2tc/s1600/IMG_1858.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbRE5IdUfGBxspW5MDScuyXyyIVKytFRcAD9Y1_O8HyGBD56s0wmAN9BEOvpasEPoVRMWVr_wyghcw0aLq42ZL9J7zGbUlsu3JUTXDc4Cqekwf3ktdVNCrS4FUgIetpc17YHNUjxGb2tc/s1600/IMG_1858.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I took around 150 pictures when I got off work, these last two were the only ones worth saving. I like the can in the grass but I couldn't get the mountains how I wanted them. It's really tricky shooting into the sun... I think next time I try to photograph Mount Tom it will be in the early morning light instead of the evening... <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ST3zCNKLUGIhqRUAw51P_a1pWl98M7Oq6NsaaVVulLDA5oWwNQ23EpkK4OpSn6O5wtIN6llRlzvfeVhXDefR30ZhcVWnNReDc_QT3CdzVrzqbMksWU7RPEnhyYUGT2tbEuVTwF2NOkc/s1600/IMG_1873.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ST3zCNKLUGIhqRUAw51P_a1pWl98M7Oq6NsaaVVulLDA5oWwNQ23EpkK4OpSn6O5wtIN6llRlzvfeVhXDefR30ZhcVWnNReDc_QT3CdzVrzqbMksWU7RPEnhyYUGT2tbEuVTwF2NOkc/s1600/IMG_1873.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
<br />
Discouraged, but not Defeated<br />
<br />My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-8850236066689150142014-08-18T22:02:00.003-07:002014-08-18T22:15:47.230-07:00Let Me Photograph You - It's For Free!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN3qRD81nA0m5QO1mjzeD5KGT9BkQcSAgNJjW30gi9M8MwmJ7H5GClLQeBMcxvQTmGzeyS3KflhiDbmT_YJmRXagQ2w3a-6gi6IBYsIbadaMELikd_ffGcxbiiU7W5ER4csxy-VKg4Zp0/s1600/IMG_1614.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN3qRD81nA0m5QO1mjzeD5KGT9BkQcSAgNJjW30gi9M8MwmJ7H5GClLQeBMcxvQTmGzeyS3KflhiDbmT_YJmRXagQ2w3a-6gi6IBYsIbadaMELikd_ffGcxbiiU7W5ER4csxy-VKg4Zp0/s1600/IMG_1614.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Have you ever thought you knew something... and then quickly realized that you knew absolutely nothing? This actually happens on a daily basis for me. So why was today any different? Well it wasn't. That's <i>exactly </i>how today went down. I bought a really nice camera. The body came in the mail today. I thought I knew something about photography, then quickly realized I knew close to nothing.<br />
<br />
I guess that was the small, very small difference, I knew "<i>close"</i> to nothing. Gotta give a girl at least a little bit of credit. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyJ1TF8-e8EZKueh5a_re1tm9BXzxnVZKnu7s5JD6Sp4X_kM9mroG9cadMdJO2tbVrU4v1R1XQXkgvju-9m0KMvAJlQUx7lQIevha36riOaildH__eG7y9Kzr04QHYQBzA-wpmID25FTc/s1600/IMG_1638.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyJ1TF8-e8EZKueh5a_re1tm9BXzxnVZKnu7s5JD6Sp4X_kM9mroG9cadMdJO2tbVrU4v1R1XQXkgvju-9m0KMvAJlQUx7lQIevha36riOaildH__eG7y9Kzr04QHYQBzA-wpmID25FTc/s1600/IMG_1638.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
When I turned on my Canon EOS 60D I couldn't get it to focus. My first thought was honestly, "I need to go to the optometrist." Then I became a little panicked, being in denial about my eyes spontaneously going bad, it had to be the camera was broken. I <i>did</i> buy it used, so maybe that's why the first person returned it. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx3XNPIggW0FxphnlHBew-WMmsmFyFpzEgd50HKSrvULR8-kcF4MyqenDEnLH-Bm7UPKr8mqK7aJQYqisHBjh3Dpht_ed1Y77lMd6KOsMkzzJf8iYW72tTp5KQGgJ7cPxb75WmpxXQ9po/s1600/IMG_1640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx3XNPIggW0FxphnlHBew-WMmsmFyFpzEgd50HKSrvULR8-kcF4MyqenDEnLH-Bm7UPKr8mqK7aJQYqisHBjh3Dpht_ed1Y77lMd6KOsMkzzJf8iYW72tTp5KQGgJ7cPxb75WmpxXQ9po/s1600/IMG_1640.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
So what did I do? The same thing that any 20-something would do. Googled it. I can't even really say "my generation," because it seems 7 year olds as well as 70 year olds would do exactly the same thing... Humankind would be lost with out Google. It's sad really. We are all idiots - not just me. I digress. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTXlgUq_ZLspIhGGrB5gZOVoGqKwXPyCNTtp9woET9SKvZWe1o1LSFPqdMbTo8oWDV6eNA7Pf33OIifhM0b2XMX532KIxzoftpZfqcCEfShZY18i_h5UQQJfXFClv1Wl-Qv7RfVsWrXSg/s1600/IMG_1654.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTXlgUq_ZLspIhGGrB5gZOVoGqKwXPyCNTtp9woET9SKvZWe1o1LSFPqdMbTo8oWDV6eNA7Pf33OIifhM0b2XMX532KIxzoftpZfqcCEfShZY18i_h5UQQJfXFClv1Wl-Qv7RfVsWrXSg/s1600/IMG_1654.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Thank God for Google or it would have taken me a lot longer to learn about the "Viewfinder Adjustment Knob." One problem down. And hey! Maybe I don't need to get my eyes checked after all! <br />
<br />
So at least things are in focus now. But then comes the whole exposure thing. What's aperture again? ISO? How does shutter speed work? Instead of Google this time I go straight for the jugular - YouTube.<br />
<br />
It's amazing what you can learn online. My dad changed my breaks from YouTube<i> </i>and I haven't gone on a down-hill break-less rampage yet! Maybe my photography future is promising after all?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMv9SP8Zu_SkuERLRqugldd9IVmdhOL4XFHS0w5GT9wspdIVrn0-c_sOpDhIPq4B_PYknRtWznNoJm6Cv3Sjgk6ZOoUaPrqRjcxeTsqMMoOxRdzbKmaik092Hp4RBwnHwMpBCt8HIWyls/s1600/IMG_1666.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMv9SP8Zu_SkuERLRqugldd9IVmdhOL4XFHS0w5GT9wspdIVrn0-c_sOpDhIPq4B_PYknRtWznNoJm6Cv3Sjgk6ZOoUaPrqRjcxeTsqMMoOxRdzbKmaik092Hp4RBwnHwMpBCt8HIWyls/s1600/IMG_1666.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1t0bsox_2fcfl1wBFLFAkQoGMfnI0UTkDlNRMGoc3ggbMHnv9eaHjIVL8gyT0DjQ-44vHqAPWUuQ4bnt9qMCbRcg09qqIlYAaB1XcWwDaTxc1A7gH5v2q4_A1tnmPs4hSXvnHSgOYewk/s1600/IMG_1669.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1t0bsox_2fcfl1wBFLFAkQoGMfnI0UTkDlNRMGoc3ggbMHnv9eaHjIVL8gyT0DjQ-44vHqAPWUuQ4bnt9qMCbRcg09qqIlYAaB1XcWwDaTxc1A7gH5v2q4_A1tnmPs4hSXvnHSgOYewk/s1600/IMG_1669.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
There must be a point where the YouTube stops sinking in. After watching 20+ videos you would think I would have figured something out, but I'm still totally guessing at what the ISO should be and what the aperture should be. And I didn't even get distracted by cute baby animals! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwttY7xqBhyphenhyphend7hG9ZWTH11U-grdJVLu4M70lXe32xwK6XNJKK7aRrq6QYNyie1SE4sS-s-DzdEMYigwutv4jFmDKjH3dIUO9f7SjkZ9hUOv6sX_eGYd7P9QFpi3jvlJ4ec9PlDDyRYbo/s1600/IMG_1672.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwttY7xqBhyphenhyphend7hG9ZWTH11U-grdJVLu4M70lXe32xwK6XNJKK7aRrq6QYNyie1SE4sS-s-DzdEMYigwutv4jFmDKjH3dIUO9f7SjkZ9hUOv6sX_eGYd7P9QFpi3jvlJ4ec9PlDDyRYbo/s1600/IMG_1672.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Can you tell what hen is my favorite? Sweetie. She's the friendliest. Ok... getting distracted by cute baby animals. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKvVLnQwKLmAOc3aKTyLL4QOI_XSeuSMsyXMus6KoRPvVp9yyTiJIg3Oa2AQy1noa26ZrstbA2waRLPN06-K4u_L1tx6Npirx-8fp-PfwM-tNf59uvBGh4M4vYkat-rKOAyH2Jy6iZyOQ/s1600/IMG_1670.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKvVLnQwKLmAOc3aKTyLL4QOI_XSeuSMsyXMus6KoRPvVp9yyTiJIg3Oa2AQy1noa26ZrstbA2waRLPN06-K4u_L1tx6Npirx-8fp-PfwM-tNf59uvBGh4M4vYkat-rKOAyH2Jy6iZyOQ/s1600/IMG_1670.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
This afternoon was a little humbling but I am determined to become a photographer. Regardless of deleting 99% of the pictures I took today, I think the 1% came out pretty dang good.<br />
<br />
I know art is subjective and despite the self-deprecating tone of this post, I'll be honest, I'll say it, I'm pretty happy with my first batch of photos. And my lens new lens is still on it's way!<br />
<br />
I'm happy with them mostly because I KNOW I have a lot to learn - but - the photos aren't half bad! So I'm going to really, super, totally, rock with some more practice.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-zvxOXRLpgmNIFz4HpfTYAkrg3b5mZ0NtvG2YCBgVbRapz4D-QSBXrmwWCqBALdReCVy__koQvv0P5skHdgg2hHXNt_TqAUI8rvDUJDREYQGzE5mkn0WBGyeBPUrKpm6Z-7vUf891Rhs/s1600/IMG_1674.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-zvxOXRLpgmNIFz4HpfTYAkrg3b5mZ0NtvG2YCBgVbRapz4D-QSBXrmwWCqBALdReCVy__koQvv0P5skHdgg2hHXNt_TqAUI8rvDUJDREYQGzE5mkn0WBGyeBPUrKpm6Z-7vUf891Rhs/s1600/IMG_1674.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Speaking of, what I want to get into is portraits, lifestyle, family photos, baby photos, engagement photos, senior pics and eventually... weddings! Calling all people! Let me photograph you! And as my dad has always said "It's for free!" <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju8GcMqgGrUxNP4xxPXUH4IJusCg6rJZCooqX5lgYPhMZt24GvOp6LbqwFI6C7G0RkbFNhddOyY8I1YmrDM1DhviMc-NtqSH19Q37I15HijqFHSQr8e00Fy3Q0oZdSBKt4d11hT5e4DWw/s1600/IMG_1691.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju8GcMqgGrUxNP4xxPXUH4IJusCg6rJZCooqX5lgYPhMZt24GvOp6LbqwFI6C7G0RkbFNhddOyY8I1YmrDM1DhviMc-NtqSH19Q37I15HijqFHSQr8e00Fy3Q0oZdSBKt4d11hT5e4DWw/s1600/IMG_1691.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_7nptC6rV719UkhHij9d0-w_6sXQect0WBSFsTgh-GTbQX1x5jVXd3-k57ds7QxjgLzUSZZ2d11vomyXCayVwdRlk8iBKdCGx9cqEgW_OYXdnBSZv-6AxiV27AL7Do5x7La3Wu2DMv8c/s1600/IMG_1703.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_7nptC6rV719UkhHij9d0-w_6sXQect0WBSFsTgh-GTbQX1x5jVXd3-k57ds7QxjgLzUSZZ2d11vomyXCayVwdRlk8iBKdCGx9cqEgW_OYXdnBSZv-6AxiV27AL7Do5x7La3Wu2DMv8c/s1600/IMG_1703.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
This is the good life. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipRPMtB1yYl9J-iCAm6t1uciVkKNJgwi0dSdwdDjEdXoqf3XSmJ2EGTk1EzkMt65fGtMecFPzf8u-y1EoR9oBLZaUONuqS69zPV4KW4pkgfkvxV1v5FpL-7Rjn-FNRvM9mAtuPrPTDjnc/s1600/IMG_1705.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipRPMtB1yYl9J-iCAm6t1uciVkKNJgwi0dSdwdDjEdXoqf3XSmJ2EGTk1EzkMt65fGtMecFPzf8u-y1EoR9oBLZaUONuqS69zPV4KW4pkgfkvxV1v5FpL-7Rjn-FNRvM9mAtuPrPTDjnc/s1600/IMG_1705.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Sweetie on my knee. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN8uIxmZ-bUjrF62kKq23MgK9wVkoNNeGKECRLAe2ehnvE6URSKljwtL1lh8beyTUaAKrHG5ETssVwZggYStLsICD9Lt6kAkNAWWgjXLD78UAFSke1dYzkht3SxQaQbCgx4-TJKxBZZK8/s1600/IMG_1770.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN8uIxmZ-bUjrF62kKq23MgK9wVkoNNeGKECRLAe2ehnvE6URSKljwtL1lh8beyTUaAKrHG5ETssVwZggYStLsICD9Lt6kAkNAWWgjXLD78UAFSke1dYzkht3SxQaQbCgx4-TJKxBZZK8/s1600/IMG_1770.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Tea and hamburgers? <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6J_D0bcM_fufdDa2Ktkv-tVvZJkJxxjqDX9PAKpLx1Ca88Orne4D8PJdgMUXzjdk37a-Ti7kIT1roBH-Go0n2gI9kXt_ivsMEmcc4TGoR7a8lXSEypkVW137RM9JwyvWa24UPeIbnxuY/s1600/IMG_1781.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6J_D0bcM_fufdDa2Ktkv-tVvZJkJxxjqDX9PAKpLx1Ca88Orne4D8PJdgMUXzjdk37a-Ti7kIT1roBH-Go0n2gI9kXt_ivsMEmcc4TGoR7a8lXSEypkVW137RM9JwyvWa24UPeIbnxuY/s1600/IMG_1781.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
From the back yard. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Td99i8VCDs2RG01um8vg5d78XLkLR5c9605TAAIr_pZ7rGbd0xU_Xb0ZftwpzR7iJmcNjMxYqFekTpCRVM6kIDAz8bxCToIN-uCX4IpL5UhMYi5uhc57j6ZTGONiyezpykDwbL1U6Hk/s1600/IMG_1783.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Td99i8VCDs2RG01um8vg5d78XLkLR5c9605TAAIr_pZ7rGbd0xU_Xb0ZftwpzR7iJmcNjMxYqFekTpCRVM6kIDAz8bxCToIN-uCX4IpL5UhMYi5uhc57j6ZTGONiyezpykDwbL1U6Hk/s1600/IMG_1783.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Hiding hens. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxFybUz04ZQcdpeA1n186qD_gIiV4pNa4-FLjmTTmyGir6U2D8hBiP7MQD8X03aBoAogDX678CctiZcGiQ7HuDumXqt3QLpWjNstmAsikxErss43C_wxeqYz95QFgzLTR8HhWV1xphEQQ/s1600/IMG_1785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxFybUz04ZQcdpeA1n186qD_gIiV4pNa4-FLjmTTmyGir6U2D8hBiP7MQD8X03aBoAogDX678CctiZcGiQ7HuDumXqt3QLpWjNstmAsikxErss43C_wxeqYz95QFgzLTR8HhWV1xphEQQ/s1600/IMG_1785.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
...and the swamp cooler STILL leaks?! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMGkHmTdIQdMgpaUFkUAud1yOghdVSVQ1_IByWQUPsmGesZgXh0ameF6K9PyfaumW2wAnGldvGvTVX65-aW-6uICfy9oZZLDPtaLG-UnKuM_cIDtySjWimp3kQ_y2MB3_OxucmqgRRHC8/s1600/IMG_1787.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMGkHmTdIQdMgpaUFkUAud1yOghdVSVQ1_IByWQUPsmGesZgXh0ameF6K9PyfaumW2wAnGldvGvTVX65-aW-6uICfy9oZZLDPtaLG-UnKuM_cIDtySjWimp3kQ_y2MB3_OxucmqgRRHC8/s1600/IMG_1787.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-15223940742317250172014-08-06T20:11:00.001-07:002014-08-06T20:13:22.539-07:00Obsessed.Are you the kind of person who listens to a song or an album over and OVER again? To the point where everyone around you wants to either take a hammer to whatever instrument is exclaiming the, in their words, God awful noise? Or worse, take a hammer to you? - for causing such ear bleeding agony?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikjf5bwyHWMfwg-tELl1sFnhsFOPRP-rjo2fKtxtKuraep0RZL8S8dQ85NyJo0lD17vQk5QIqhDLP0SrS2zVTWvkEA1aU-qYRlibcS1vD9SC3eMz0TOhiuL8pDAwRwUL_0WOmAFpa-q64/s1600/Photo+on+2014-08-06+at+18.29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikjf5bwyHWMfwg-tELl1sFnhsFOPRP-rjo2fKtxtKuraep0RZL8S8dQ85NyJo0lD17vQk5QIqhDLP0SrS2zVTWvkEA1aU-qYRlibcS1vD9SC3eMz0TOhiuL8pDAwRwUL_0WOmAFpa-q64/s1600/Photo+on+2014-08-06+at+18.29.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I am. That's me. I gladly confess. And you know what, I think I have always been this way. I love listening to songs on repeat.<br />
<br />
I remember when I was a kid, Acey and I had bunk beds and he kept a ghetto blaster boom box right next to his pillow. I remember climbing the ladder to his top bunk when he wasn't home and putting my No Doubt CD in, sitting cross legged and listening to it over and OVER while reading along the lyrics and memorizing them. I did this also about a year later to Spice Girl's groundbreaking hit album "Spice." I'm sure I logged hundreds of hours pressing repeat on "Spice Up Your Life" and "Wannabe."<br />
<br />
So I don't think I can account for every song I have <i>ever</i> been obsessed with, but I can name a few. Especially as of recently.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/o9yMXzARTZE?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
About a month or so ago a friend of ours introduced me to Scott Bradlee and the Postmodern Jukebox. OMG I am so obsessed. I freaking love them.<br />
<br />
It started out gradually at first. I began showing anyone how would step foot into our house Postmodern Jukeboxes rendition of Miley Cyrus' "We Can't Stop." Then came their rendition of Lorde's "Royals," then Selena Gomez' "Come and Get It..." and from there it spiraled. I bought their album on iTunes and it has basically been playing non-stop.<br />
<br />
It's actually playing in the background now. The video posted directly above is what I am currently going cray cray for. Watch it for yourself and try not to tell me the lead singer, Von Smith, doesn't just down-right melt your heart! Go on, try!<br />
<br />
Talk about heart melting, below is Puddles Pity Party belting out "Royals." This band is seriously amazing. Please Postmodern Jukebox! Put Bishop, California on your next tour! (Ha... I'm lucky enough to get my friends to read this blog - it would be a serious pipe dream that anyone from the band would even stumble upon it on accident. Regardless, I will continue my rant.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/VBmCJEehYtU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
Miley Cyrus' "We Can't Stop"<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/pXYWDtXbBB0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
Selena Gomez' "Come and Get It"<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/WuM-wDolnMc?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
Daft Punk's "Get Lucky" (Seriously - Love those pipes! Mitchell Jarvis - if you are reading this - Thank you - you are a god.) <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/5QWBLVhql1w?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
Really people, the list goes on and on with this band. The main front lead singer, Robyn Anderson, hits a home run in just about every single song. I could post every video of theirs because I love them all so much, but what you should really do is go to YouTube and watch them yourself. Or better yet, buy their amazing album for only $9.99 on iTunes. I know, I know, I should be getting paid for how hard I am repping this band, but I just want to share my excitement with the many MANY people that read my blog (clearly sarcastic).<br />
<br />
Moving on. Bless Phil's heart for letting me play the below video on a nightly basis. I know he loves it too, I mean who wouldn't, but I'm sure after the nth time, he has had his fill. Again, try to tell me you watched this video and didn't just absolutely fall in love with Emma Stone! It couldn't be done! I love her. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/bLBSoC_2IY8/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/bLBSoC_2IY8&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/bLBSoC_2IY8&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
<br />
Blessing Phil's heart yet again. He has seen this next one more then he would like to admit, but hey, that is one of the perks of living with Julianna Marina Aseltine! Endless amounts of musical fun! Maybe my tastes aren't as refined as the next persons but there is something about all these videos/songs that literally make the little carbon and other elements in my body go into a dancing hizzy. It's amazing. <br />
<br />
The guy that sings Elsa's part. Genius. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/tA53EsnzlIg?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
I don't exactly know what makes me love this next video so much: the KRNFX guy or the shaking camera at the chorus or the guy with the long hair or the mesmerizing female singer. They are all just so good!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/WcM14Al83Ls?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
One more Walk off the Earth goodie:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/IbVoo7YLWnI?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
This last video I actually, and truly wish I could say I hadn't watched as many times as I have... but she is just so endearingly annoying!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/f9573kGBtuE?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
If, on the off hand chance, that you actually made it through this entire post with out getting sucked down the wormhole that is YouTube, nice work!<br />
<br />
I just wanted to share some of the videos/music that I am currently obsessed with and if I just ruined the past 20 minutes of your life... well according to <span class="st">Lt. Quincannon of the 2013 box office smash hit Gangster Squad, </span>"Two things you can't take back on this job, kid. Bullets out of your gun, and words out of your mouth." Go ahead and add "hours of wasted time on the internet" to that list. My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-12540232435624851422014-06-29T14:21:00.000-07:002014-06-29T14:37:24.772-07:00Matthes Crest<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJycKy6YXeaj8C8fTxafnzt6HJlhs_RRWd2giIeByLVvNmCB5VYweeL4rh3HitcbjYFPZ1xCcyw2IDYPcyZ7ksrDhwdOpxrIl3ogYPZuKeidHnrIadZbjosrYCOvg8DSy69i0EPMy4YQ/s1600/IMG_0514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJycKy6YXeaj8C8fTxafnzt6HJlhs_RRWd2giIeByLVvNmCB5VYweeL4rh3HitcbjYFPZ1xCcyw2IDYPcyZ7ksrDhwdOpxrIl3ogYPZuKeidHnrIadZbjosrYCOvg8DSy69i0EPMy4YQ/s1600/IMG_0514.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Maureen and I had been planning on climbing Matthes Crest in Tuolumne Meadows, Yosemite National Park for a couple months. I really loved how casual we were in making plans, she just threw the idea out there, I said yes, I put it on the calendar, then a couple days before the climb I got a FB message saying to meet at the trail head at 7:30, bring a compass, and that was about it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje8g9LGdoJsjJRwqq2OEDyMCw4pTV4BmcpljYIPtuOlqVe-EtuCbvO_VhmacJxelBO9eFo_2y-8XpmkzI9rv903rOpbUaXYTw7DnoaLH1v3yGmV4ckZziskezKrrp-Sl_lLVPbLLGXTxY/s1600/IMG_0518_fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje8g9LGdoJsjJRwqq2OEDyMCw4pTV4BmcpljYIPtuOlqVe-EtuCbvO_VhmacJxelBO9eFo_2y-8XpmkzI9rv903rOpbUaXYTw7DnoaLH1v3yGmV4ckZziskezKrrp-Sl_lLVPbLLGXTxY/s1600/IMG_0518_fotor.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Maureen and I met at the Cathedral Lakes Trail Head and set out towards Matthes Crest. I had the compass, as she had requested, as well as a GPS and print outs from Peter Croft's book, <i>The Good, The Great and The Awesome.</i> We had plans on climbing up the 5.6 at the South end of the traverse, but didn't plan on running into 4 other groups with the same idea. It was a busy day on the crest. Maureen managed to squeeze her way up something and I managed to follow, with groups on either side. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh38gJ0ZLUkEzcpmAB0HWEfGE_l3xnZFH9wJrVPpK0Ea8O1pdFchgqEILS1P-sFrXa0HaP3_2uwq0hKtJv8iZuorOGD21b3pnrnMkIxt0ChjCtBoDJaYfXFcq4H46HNkjFLoDCciINaVSA/s1600/IMG_0528.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh38gJ0ZLUkEzcpmAB0HWEfGE_l3xnZFH9wJrVPpK0Ea8O1pdFchgqEILS1P-sFrXa0HaP3_2uwq0hKtJv8iZuorOGD21b3pnrnMkIxt0ChjCtBoDJaYfXFcq4H46HNkjFLoDCciINaVSA/s1600/IMG_0528.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
We took advantage of the other people being on the route, as you can see from the picture below. We asked someone to snap this photo of us perched on the first pitch. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiofsJCR35AsrYVvk9ErhUxridhAEYDvXbQImJbNKm5X7kzglfH_vfXhOJ0-wvsnlcIFOAONB29tB52t9CJY8vPP1AB1RA-Oqv3rdLuUZvYinJCc2AYtxImqVih6-JyjRz2Rw_4B6zx4xw/s1600/IMG_0532.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiofsJCR35AsrYVvk9ErhUxridhAEYDvXbQImJbNKm5X7kzglfH_vfXhOJ0-wvsnlcIFOAONB29tB52t9CJY8vPP1AB1RA-Oqv3rdLuUZvYinJCc2AYtxImqVih6-JyjRz2Rw_4B6zx4xw/s1600/IMG_0532.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg48nIDrkCyMxC1tIzq-NobqRDaMv8tdyse5dlr4DkpDID66dQwMb1Rr0p3by40I7GSglXh8sid6Ixk_8FKNb2QHe9QWGKaZhVEAs5kf53n6xv0jLGWfJuRIfUPedrfV_vFVUxd2FZjXCI/s1600/IMG_0537.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg48nIDrkCyMxC1tIzq-NobqRDaMv8tdyse5dlr4DkpDID66dQwMb1Rr0p3by40I7GSglXh8sid6Ixk_8FKNb2QHe9QWGKaZhVEAs5kf53n6xv0jLGWfJuRIfUPedrfV_vFVUxd2FZjXCI/s1600/IMG_0537.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTmPwnXaREP_XGCIlBPW6lIy4sYVUB0gx4JPN4Rz_7VBKUiw1kDAzgiASIeFuFkVZwWYA6cpqc-C3zQrnUeYLQt0InHrGW_VokVwMA40FgkEj1E0JoB__PuGe1X0MDreLQfIGecDiPIh4/s1600/IMG_0538.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTmPwnXaREP_XGCIlBPW6lIy4sYVUB0gx4JPN4Rz_7VBKUiw1kDAzgiASIeFuFkVZwWYA6cpqc-C3zQrnUeYLQt0InHrGW_VokVwMA40FgkEj1E0JoB__PuGe1X0MDreLQfIGecDiPIh4/s1600/IMG_0538.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
And so the traverse began. There was a group of 3 (2 women and 1 man) leading the way, they were soloing most of the route (meaning, no rope), 2 groups of 2 guys each, which were directly in front of us, and another couple+ groups behind us. Maureen and I were moving pretty quickly, simul climbing all the way to the 5.8 crack/dihedral. Simul climbing, short for simultaneously climbing, it is when you are both tied into the same rope, on opposite ends, climbing as the word describes, simultaneously, with a piece or two of protection in between you. The idea here is that you can move quite a bit faster. The catch is, if you or your partner falls, you are essentially the anchor on the other end of the rope. I would say, you would only want to simul climb if you are very confidant in your ability as well as your partners, which we both were.<br />
<br />
At the beginning of the traverse we quickly passed the 2 groups of guys and were moving right along, chipper and having a great time. <br />
<br />
We got to the 5.8 and Maureen appeared to walk right up it. I struggled a little bit but managed to get myself to the top.<br />
<br />
I had an "anything goes" mentality to this climb, hence the scratches on my forearms, bruises on knees and the holes in my pants. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrG20D7M0JVvs3lmubNKA4oMbr9LHo_sgtiWfTzKGLb2zWVQZkjZqSYbGMMF1HydoLgq3hhVSIXTSf90r04ZGQZpvCbAM1w6aXh7sz2cOZ71SnvN2cbJV0BeQX7fj9Z2uj84go6ERVQRg/s1600/IMG_0544.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrG20D7M0JVvs3lmubNKA4oMbr9LHo_sgtiWfTzKGLb2zWVQZkjZqSYbGMMF1HydoLgq3hhVSIXTSf90r04ZGQZpvCbAM1w6aXh7sz2cOZ71SnvN2cbJV0BeQX7fj9Z2uj84go6ERVQRg/s1600/IMG_0544.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Dd9u0-IXkHYXZsPdtDSUiM10XPTnTrEdy7a-gyqR48weEOKIQ1y6tSdQh8ASXU687ARS9QN6BzqLvrGswL4uDyMQTer8uxgnMcF2PRCoJOby12RK2d2igj41wXAbWtSl0FY5BH03lio/s1600/IMG_0545.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Dd9u0-IXkHYXZsPdtDSUiM10XPTnTrEdy7a-gyqR48weEOKIQ1y6tSdQh8ASXU687ARS9QN6BzqLvrGswL4uDyMQTer8uxgnMcF2PRCoJOby12RK2d2igj41wXAbWtSl0FY5BH03lio/s1600/IMG_0545.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Beautiful views and smiles all the way around. <br />
<br />
No need for a tri-pod when you have friendly people to take pictures for you. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNXwG0RbH5vFRwliAYhzRfQExNJnobKOudVBCGEV4LX8j-Eg1ZYZ_vpoOs4OM7w0UCcMkmZc-P2eFb4vrMcXJ8ZLnx55qiezTCTrnwPNqBsjJdWIOgoGNMd-rLi8fZW9znQVU5pADhiyg/s1600/IMG_0550.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNXwG0RbH5vFRwliAYhzRfQExNJnobKOudVBCGEV4LX8j-Eg1ZYZ_vpoOs4OM7w0UCcMkmZc-P2eFb4vrMcXJ8ZLnx55qiezTCTrnwPNqBsjJdWIOgoGNMd-rLi8fZW9znQVU5pADhiyg/s1600/IMG_0550.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
This is what much of the traverse looked like. You can see Maureen leading the way and the rope connecting the two of us together. It's hard to tell from the picture, but the ramp just below Maureen was only about two and a half feet wide, dropping hundreds of feet on either side. Scary? Yes, a little but the business hadn't even started yet. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJU7DX9QHstcWWJ4MWI9ZfdnNgvrx-v0p31Jok7TeNrEER7DI8OBJWSm5_LXywDk_cAkYG-o1bJw0-4RWa45VLB1cVjFZFkOv12mbgNFLYcxnD6xz9dut_0N8_5TQIdMf56QCLoTMjg3U/s1600/IMG_0551.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJU7DX9QHstcWWJ4MWI9ZfdnNgvrx-v0p31Jok7TeNrEER7DI8OBJWSm5_LXywDk_cAkYG-o1bJw0-4RWa45VLB1cVjFZFkOv12mbgNFLYcxnD6xz9dut_0N8_5TQIdMf56QCLoTMjg3U/s1600/IMG_0551.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Here Maureen is climbing up a small crack on the traverse, still on our way to the North Summit. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8sFP2ARyJeItwkUvU_MpDkRG8Nbt3f2mjwN7nOKeqFKeHyRbwCkEgyv_tzxnY2EBt3YWH1KX-rA3wQ1c3bSeM5-Q4AF2x7hbQCD7Nc1gCghS8mg5Pi-4P4FBb7AqPnBVMvlK6MIB0k2k/s1600/IMG_0554.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8sFP2ARyJeItwkUvU_MpDkRG8Nbt3f2mjwN7nOKeqFKeHyRbwCkEgyv_tzxnY2EBt3YWH1KX-rA3wQ1c3bSeM5-Q4AF2x7hbQCD7Nc1gCghS8mg5Pi-4P4FBb7AqPnBVMvlK6MIB0k2k/s1600/IMG_0554.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Looking South. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUfIBflqpFu4OD-DE0xJKV2CKuWLYI9GNt8tllwZZ7aBb_MH3T7c6EwM12T2CsdWoU4vNLT9M7q3zsRVNtapGMdmWuQQjLGl4lZrQ3Yqd3QS5dBAb-uiXp7zK-NAZ84UvHSh8V-oFMh18/s1600/IMG_0555.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUfIBflqpFu4OD-DE0xJKV2CKuWLYI9GNt8tllwZZ7aBb_MH3T7c6EwM12T2CsdWoU4vNLT9M7q3zsRVNtapGMdmWuQQjLGl4lZrQ3Yqd3QS5dBAb-uiXp7zK-NAZ84UvHSh8V-oFMh18/s1600/IMG_0555.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Traversing along, following behind Maureen's lead about 40 feet, often keeping the rope in one hand as not to trip on it. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicmxmbtCCzJX71dp3AadmKJW3461EP8bYQql6U4-BZnp-Sje6tsmUc_x7uiEtrCsRKDeUsw0V2brKi2Jj2SNCTWplgcBUVuzrdZzakJUrh0amOEfXbfgiOAKtia7xzaxc3voLnhyphenhyphenOrl44/s1600/IMG_0558.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicmxmbtCCzJX71dp3AadmKJW3461EP8bYQql6U4-BZnp-Sje6tsmUc_x7uiEtrCsRKDeUsw0V2brKi2Jj2SNCTWplgcBUVuzrdZzakJUrh0amOEfXbfgiOAKtia7xzaxc3voLnhyphenhyphenOrl44/s1600/IMG_0558.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMtmORpVzu1BZ2n_8zNq5DLJIyCn37IT_QZVQp0LNwhtAQ63TynGudF0dhzXZ48ZiP5t9qHKT87s1mdvbCbFBoDVr6aVVATtLp-47JbzKla8Jzv9Wx73OHUWd5pq7OdlMPDMN8_lrgTT8/s1600/IMG_0562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMtmORpVzu1BZ2n_8zNq5DLJIyCn37IT_QZVQp0LNwhtAQ63TynGudF0dhzXZ48ZiP5t9qHKT87s1mdvbCbFBoDVr6aVVATtLp-47JbzKla8Jzv9Wx73OHUWd5pq7OdlMPDMN8_lrgTT8/s1600/IMG_0562.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The North Summit! What a beautiful view. Maureen looks South into the National Park and down the ridge we just crossed. We signed the register at the summit 10,400 feet, had a little snack and decided to keep moving.<br />
<br />
Many people rappel off the North Summit and forgo completing the ridge traverse to the far North end. And maybe we would have done that if it wasn't for the above mentioned book, <i>The Good, The Great, and The Awesome</i> by Peter Croft, where he says, in reference to rappelling off the summit, "...you'd miss out on some of the best climbing the route has to offer... so finish it off properly, climb down off the North Summit and continue traversing north along the arete..." So that's what we did.<br />
<br />
We decided to carry on and the parties behind us admired our courage. I didn't understand why until we were committed to the decent. We understood that there would be some 5.8 down climbing but didn't think that there would be anything harder then what we had already done. Boy were we wrong.<br />
<br />
Let me say that nothing was over or head or above our ability range. Let me say that neither Maureen nor I were ever scared or unsure of what were were doing.<br />
<br />
Now, let me say that Matthes Crest was the most exciting and potentially dangerous thing I've ever done.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI0NkmEmOwCM9UYdm-D0cWVSEZpY7tN_o24H7SHZ-xezWn28eFTfCBz9lguGe-EF5Ph5rpkA5sVN5G2s1tKUJ-IMI5HLONA11UHmKAhWf7K-4fZ_kSRTrxdIy4HyUr0V7Kehd4P2tk7qs/s1600/IMG_0563.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI0NkmEmOwCM9UYdm-D0cWVSEZpY7tN_o24H7SHZ-xezWn28eFTfCBz9lguGe-EF5Ph5rpkA5sVN5G2s1tKUJ-IMI5HLONA11UHmKAhWf7K-4fZ_kSRTrxdIy4HyUr0V7Kehd4P2tk7qs/s1600/IMG_0563.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Here we are thinking, "We made it! All down hill from here!" Although we couldn't have been more wrong.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdmLvbl3sDrrobHLTB8ZESigmo7cLmrtFKe-O_BEV5TQEpXFXBdDx__Ox1bNpp_oUvpMkUtywu1QGmDWcbPQpc5ZPrKmZV7wURqknrZvXADTvGiK1QfORluyNZM5ODFvOgjo3-j1G9FgE/s1600/IMG_0564.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdmLvbl3sDrrobHLTB8ZESigmo7cLmrtFKe-O_BEV5TQEpXFXBdDx__Ox1bNpp_oUvpMkUtywu1QGmDWcbPQpc5ZPrKmZV7wURqknrZvXADTvGiK1QfORluyNZM5ODFvOgjo3-j1G9FgE/s1600/IMG_0564.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
As we were descending from the summit and continued moving North on the ridge, 2
men, one older and one in his 20's passed us, free soloing. The 20 year
old was wearing approach shoes. Maureen kindly asked, as we were a
little unsure of exactly which way was the best way along the ridge, "Is
this the 5.8 down climb?" The older man's, response, with a little bit
of a cold chuckle, was something like "Yeah, this is the right way" and "there's quite a bit more to come."<br />
<br />
As we continued, we soon found out
that, yes, the party wasn't over at the North Summit, the party was just getting started. Unfortunately we weren't advised it was a business party and there was a lot more work for us to do.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_rLZfzY0so0NayLYx4jE-11RiW6m2nJwJ9FM3RMSb7k8JTjCcKVTEOIVTC44zmbycfN2GtRBI-4ZQc2nYKgaKqFuzF1t67Hds5bpiM4nA6_sRJIOK4bP6shMwNJLS97LjIz8jCr7-6QE/s1600/IMG_0573.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_rLZfzY0so0NayLYx4jE-11RiW6m2nJwJ9FM3RMSb7k8JTjCcKVTEOIVTC44zmbycfN2GtRBI-4ZQc2nYKgaKqFuzF1t67Hds5bpiM4nA6_sRJIOK4bP6shMwNJLS97LjIz8jCr7-6QE/s1600/IMG_0573.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Again, these photos do not encompass the amount of exposure and the risk involved but this crotch shot, taken through my legs while down climbing a ramp was one of the many "scarier" moments on the climb. The next piece of protection was below me 10+ feet. A fall here would have been detrimental. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWPo3a9mS28MXm28bzoFI1BeCy7b9nhq_nlsZ3m5gztr_YgGfYS4dFu_GB29M6TbwF4sZIheidiXOq3S8vyTb8FDbYwMSVAK9qvnmmGdIrXMtUl9RC0tYM1GNepbLAsDm81qrqK8sqnUs/s1600/IMG_0575.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWPo3a9mS28MXm28bzoFI1BeCy7b9nhq_nlsZ3m5gztr_YgGfYS4dFu_GB29M6TbwF4sZIheidiXOq3S8vyTb8FDbYwMSVAK9qvnmmGdIrXMtUl9RC0tYM1GNepbLAsDm81qrqK8sqnUs/s1600/IMG_0575.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
Looking at the photo now, I don't really know how Maureen and I climbed this mass of rock, but we did. Straight up and over those jaggedy columns. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW6m0_2tHYFfP86LZpZnb5DPmhzJnDC0yF4z2L-_JKq7PJ4XnHG34S_3IMRDi74dnQ7baHsMmHxZnSKqNC-YPo7EZ2Ssdlk2p2R1GepUfVSsAZqhUkxRnzc2JW8C8f6_rUr6xzPEoYH0Y/s1600/IMG_0577.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW6m0_2tHYFfP86LZpZnb5DPmhzJnDC0yF4z2L-_JKq7PJ4XnHG34S_3IMRDi74dnQ7baHsMmHxZnSKqNC-YPo7EZ2Ssdlk2p2R1GepUfVSsAZqhUkxRnzc2JW8C8f6_rUr6xzPEoYH0Y/s1600/IMG_0577.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The below photo isn't Maureen or I, I took it from <a href="http://www.highsierrayoga.com/category/hiking/" target="_blank">highsierrayoga.com,</a> but I wanted to show what one particular section of the climb looked like. This section is referred to as "the wave." As you can tell by the exposure and sketchyness of this section, I wasn't too particularly keen on the idea of pulling my camera out and taking a photo.<br />
<br />
Maureen and I looked down, like the woman in the photo, and got a sight that I don't expect to see too many times in my life. Looking down the face of the rock, hundreds of feet, was truly breath taking. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk5ZLvjRYqYaZHcWNPypMQQPqD3CRTtSBbKhK24fHkClPpO6cueyWSqjjTYFl3lllQX0U5Ukh1tkXQq665rTF6j7biqRvNy4hVgm3DgsV1NGpPA77xg5uV-ZeGcZshgqGx5zRx_QryWHo/s1600/290176_10151386185664535_296545048_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk5ZLvjRYqYaZHcWNPypMQQPqD3CRTtSBbKhK24fHkClPpO6cueyWSqjjTYFl3lllQX0U5Ukh1tkXQq665rTF6j7biqRvNy4hVgm3DgsV1NGpPA77xg5uV-ZeGcZshgqGx5zRx_QryWHo/s1600/290176_10151386185664535_296545048_o.jpg" height="230" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The below photo is from the far North end of the traverse, we made it, now just three more miles back to the trail head. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiiDM-8lsPw9mHMU2Q1f3HG_AWVJW-i5hnueuhXxs2SWNhyphenhyphengpp7xD7jHaOuRyQevmDJymZVy2wcn4u680cb1QpKutHXEsT7tEDM9_zK7c7eLHCrFaYVA2adjEtbyfC_mtCtA7_wQcP5lU/s1600/IMG_0583.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiiDM-8lsPw9mHMU2Q1f3HG_AWVJW-i5hnueuhXxs2SWNhyphenhyphengpp7xD7jHaOuRyQevmDJymZVy2wcn4u680cb1QpKutHXEsT7tEDM9_zK7c7eLHCrFaYVA2adjEtbyfC_mtCtA7_wQcP5lU/s1600/IMG_0583.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGtm7ES28xy5WWuuSKOmroLJV0NkDCcaLmhcBPFWbxiG2f_fNODqX7pNHsuWMPKAIx9YTvWgieEfEGP2c7O599fUjWWCGMgtFAQH6JPgxeRmF_NTj2zQWZpxREcek5O9A4NonbaqYIyXE/s1600/IMG_0585.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGtm7ES28xy5WWuuSKOmroLJV0NkDCcaLmhcBPFWbxiG2f_fNODqX7pNHsuWMPKAIx9YTvWgieEfEGP2c7O599fUjWWCGMgtFAQH6JPgxeRmF_NTj2zQWZpxREcek5O9A4NonbaqYIyXE/s1600/IMG_0585.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Another great adventure with Maureen, looking forward to more in the future.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIj16aYB50PgTyGfzAiuDV3jh2Vbr1uQK3CbKlKRCN3pO6v4ZsBmDnk9zZw_TMJvT7qpuNA2mHOQ6NN-j5sLQC228NJ3rJvOG6X3MIrpkRK9L9i-Dbqv84QNENubI674OA6x1-5-MLunM/s1600/IMG_0587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIj16aYB50PgTyGfzAiuDV3jh2Vbr1uQK3CbKlKRCN3pO6v4ZsBmDnk9zZw_TMJvT7qpuNA2mHOQ6NN-j5sLQC228NJ3rJvOG6X3MIrpkRK9L9i-Dbqv84QNENubI674OA6x1-5-MLunM/s1600/IMG_0587.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-17516519040673311252014-06-24T21:28:00.002-07:002014-06-24T21:37:37.710-07:00A Hunchback, A Guru, and A Moviestar <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu1spf7E6n3xqc1EjjwuOO5MifcDh2M_zdpjGz4Dcza_rYqtNkGgceWQtU8r7JE5AMTKbH3dH47fng0MriUGgjz-fNZxtQfod4xiu22YIL-v9RmJAD2HnLM3_5Zi9ijaKHoju6gNbyLZw/s1600/IMG_1034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu1spf7E6n3xqc1EjjwuOO5MifcDh2M_zdpjGz4Dcza_rYqtNkGgceWQtU8r7JE5AMTKbH3dH47fng0MriUGgjz-fNZxtQfod4xiu22YIL-v9RmJAD2HnLM3_5Zi9ijaKHoju6gNbyLZw/s1600/IMG_1034.JPG" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
Even though Phil and I now live in Bishop, and I don't think I would ever want to live in Huntington Beach again, there is still a part of me that calls Huntington home.<br />
<br />
Phil and I went home for the weekend to visit my Hun-dah-dah (dad), Uncle Captain Eddy, Phil's family and our friends. I love going home to visit but with so many different people to see, I always end up leaving wishing I could have stayed longer. Sometimes, there just aren't enough hours in a day.<br />
<br />
One of the things I love about spending time with my Hun-dah-dah is hearing about what book he is currently reading. Right now, he is currently reading the classic novel, The Hunchback of Notre-Dame.<br />
<br />
I remember watching the Disney movie back in 96' but other then that, I have never read the actual novel... probably never will.<br />
<br />
This is funny, even though my dad was already about halfway through a 3 inch thick novel, he said something along the lines of "it sucks." You have to admire his commitment though.<br />
<br />
My dad had Phil and I both read the book out loud to get a feel for what it was like. I have to admit, I never really excelled in reading comprehension, so I gathered close to zilch about the chapter I read of the drawn out bird's eye view of Paris. However, the bit about the blind judge and Quasimodo's court hearing WAS pretty funny and entertaining. I did comprehend that much. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_-8DOKtQ1rh1kUyVb9QNKybZcDZxX7ky3itIjfIrqmGpqr9-aPXMube6AyjgYOIqz6I_4lIoOPMea-7_o9EMK0EEzhKgCKXabs0A0lqee8CDph8RNdVQSZq8f4x5DLPiE4mhXExAeptc/s1600/IMG_1032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_-8DOKtQ1rh1kUyVb9QNKybZcDZxX7ky3itIjfIrqmGpqr9-aPXMube6AyjgYOIqz6I_4lIoOPMea-7_o9EMK0EEzhKgCKXabs0A0lqee8CDph8RNdVQSZq8f4x5DLPiE4mhXExAeptc/s1600/IMG_1032.JPG" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
On Saturday, Phil, Hun-dad-dah and I went to visit my Uncle Ed on his floating house, the Cruizon Bay. I don't think I have ever seen Uncle Ed with a beard before, and I have to say, I prefer him clean shaven, but he looked good. <br />
<br />
In regards to the beard, even Uncle Ed said that people in the Sacramento Airport were looking at him the previous day like he was some kind of homeless person who was going to try to snatch their wallet and mug them.<br />
<br />
Uncle Ed said one of the things on his bucket list was to grow a pony tail, I had to ask, for the front or the back? He laughed, replying something like "I must be drinking fertilizer or something because my beard keeps growing." But of course he was talking about the pony tail for his hair.<br />
<br />
Uncle Ed is a character to say the least. Acey has been getting a lot of footage of him on camera. It's too bad Acey wasn't there that Saturday because Uncle Ed was spewing insight and old tales with seamless connection and ease. Lots of good material. <br />
<br />
Phil particularly liked the metaphor he mentioned about gold in the hills of Northern California and nothing but sand castles in Southern California. He was speaking of the people and their character and with the exception of a few, I would mostly agree.<br />
<br />
Thanks Phil for snapping the above picture of me, my pops and Captain Eddy. Those are the guys who make me proud to say I'm an Aseltine.<br />
<br />
It was a beautiful day at the boat and I was really happy that you were there too. Wouldn't have been the same with out you. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih9wTDUZuoMt30RDaYAqySr_M3t1VxDII3RBHThJcYaSvVLIpHhl4PqxZPkD-J60ZnJEI8LgJwA3Wvj76vRcijp4Ott4HG4w7TAXQrlLjPf-6UPIJxnbSnH3ATBfztMvGpp939RuahDb8/s1600/IMG_1038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih9wTDUZuoMt30RDaYAqySr_M3t1VxDII3RBHThJcYaSvVLIpHhl4PqxZPkD-J60ZnJEI8LgJwA3Wvj76vRcijp4Ott4HG4w7TAXQrlLjPf-6UPIJxnbSnH3ATBfztMvGpp939RuahDb8/s1600/IMG_1038.JPG" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Here Phil and I are at my dad's house, the house I grew up in. We were on our way out to Coco's, a Sunday morning must-do with the Wiese family.<br />
<br />
The outfit and red sunglasses were a part of the movie star persona I adopted somewhere over the course of the weekend. I was wondering if movie stars ever refer to themselves as <i>movie stars. </i>So when we were saying goodbye to my dad, I kept saying, in a slow, long-draw, hoity toity voice "<i>Say guuuuude-byyye to the moooooovie starr." </i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhufWYzYc52_n2llTSh-bsbLOfI0u1ggfOzkhmRRL81TxnqYNV2fV00XutVjfLvnZbJVoLvSGb87ekLleu6G4JjpcGheSBHf2idvnb0_qedSSXoxOSuPq6nqxDsJVAigtZUa4H4m77DiSA/s1600/IMG_1039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhufWYzYc52_n2llTSh-bsbLOfI0u1ggfOzkhmRRL81TxnqYNV2fV00XutVjfLvnZbJVoLvSGb87ekLleu6G4JjpcGheSBHf2idvnb0_qedSSXoxOSuPq6nqxDsJVAigtZUa4H4m77DiSA/s1600/IMG_1039.JPG" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
As the movie star and her chauffeur departed, she caught this photo on the corner of Springdale and Edinger. Nothing like the mountains and clouds of the Sierras but I can't say I'm not fond of the photo.<br />
<br />
Next time we visit Huntington Beach, we are thinking something in July, instead of heading out after breakfast, we are going to have to leave in the late afternoon. We were rolling through Palmdale in peak heat, probably in the low 100's and it was miserable. We made an emergency stop at Ranch House in Olancha for a coke and ice water but I don't think we can do that drive again with out air conditioning. <br />
<br />
Looking forward to seeing you in July.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7UUzDGg-p8fbQFEd-A2YFkqRrcIjQwt2mnT6fK92O24u4NRFMIeSmZs8QTnIushzmabuXJuN0pTcsnlRpm6Cp0Kxh0XN7g2py234GE_f06NDe9GTu5FoLW3rXLlUHB0W0CeC5i4J0SbE/s1600/IMG_1044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7UUzDGg-p8fbQFEd-A2YFkqRrcIjQwt2mnT6fK92O24u4NRFMIeSmZs8QTnIushzmabuXJuN0pTcsnlRpm6Cp0Kxh0XN7g2py234GE_f06NDe9GTu5FoLW3rXLlUHB0W0CeC5i4J0SbE/s1600/IMG_1044.JPG" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-80081026098982860942014-06-18T20:05:00.002-07:002014-06-18T21:18:21.894-07:00The Tallest Things I See<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKPq-pp_qmuUOD48ZdRhItNVYOsd3ebjjHx46x79Lf7Qv95y96D-0xgFySUaAdCMsuYM7hjiZ0MW9ZJXXrzh2f7FmU-ims0tc5cBRmd_T2EMISdWW5R4qg4jjknGREaMjYCDCi38zj5WI/s1600/IMG_0924.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKPq-pp_qmuUOD48ZdRhItNVYOsd3ebjjHx46x79Lf7Qv95y96D-0xgFySUaAdCMsuYM7hjiZ0MW9ZJXXrzh2f7FmU-ims0tc5cBRmd_T2EMISdWW5R4qg4jjknGREaMjYCDCi38zj5WI/s1600/IMG_0924.JPG" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
I am so happy that the tallest things I can see from my house are mountains.<br />
<br />
The tallest thing here isn't a skyscraper or a telephone pole. It isn't something man-made that dominates the landscape, but the tallest thing is nature's pure goodness.<br />
<br />
When I look out my window I see the mountains. I see the sky. I can see pastures. And I really like it that way.<br />
<br />
People are mistaken when they say that Disneyland is the happiest place on Earth... It's actually the little town in the Eastern Sierra of California where I live, Bishop.<br />
<br />
We are over two hours away from the closest Walmart and only a bike ride away from world class rock climbing, hiking and the true essence of Mother Earth. And that's how we like it. <br />
<br />
Phil and I have now been in the Eastern Sierra for a little over a year and plan on staying here for the long haul. Some people say we are lucky but I would argue that statement. Lucky is like when I was riding bikes with Rayne in Sunset Beach and he found a hundred dollar bill... THEN Rayne took Phil and I out to sushi. Now that was a pure stroke of luck.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFSIfqY8ioPo3wti-VrjWiTC9JSDpqB3kgqoFmlE5s2ifU6d3cHBl8VzeveLr4BymSP1g_ewhMLMs_zYu6hcHsAwooWP9Cqda6DwCiIl_9l3hec7mDeEZ3pQBItR0CIMTO9vDgQMhj-ls/s1600/IMG_1121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFSIfqY8ioPo3wti-VrjWiTC9JSDpqB3kgqoFmlE5s2ifU6d3cHBl8VzeveLr4BymSP1g_ewhMLMs_zYu6hcHsAwooWP9Cqda6DwCiIl_9l3hec7mDeEZ3pQBItR0CIMTO9vDgQMhj-ls/s1600/IMG_1121.JPG" height="70" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Phil and I made a choice to live here and living here was our priority. I feel really lucky to have my job but I would have gladly scrubbed toilets or waited tables just to live in this town.<br />
<br />
Although working 40 hours a week isn't foreign to me, it has taken me awhile to adjust to a desk job. I spend a fair amount of time sitting in front of the computer and another nice chunk in a car (when I do rural outreach). And boy, does it takes a toll on the body! I am still surprised at how exhausting a desk job can be. You would think that after a day of sitting you would have a ton of energy to do crafts, clean the house and make dinner. It's not like that for me though. I come home at the end of the day and I just need to sit by the canal with Phil, have a beer and decompress. It's rather a nice ritual and I am growing quite fond of it. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
However, don't let me give you the impression that I am a slouch.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzW5SR0QatPVPEwmk73jWxcutCkc6mCmVN-6O0IOo8QPDRuGC_3g6NC5-WuIF0McGJpzxb48wJ-AiRqFfLQWDXa7sCYfUNrxQq2sb-OROJnM8dcqv0NpTeSUzWPgwhWYgtiwcSg1MCUok/s1600/IMG_0648_fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzW5SR0QatPVPEwmk73jWxcutCkc6mCmVN-6O0IOo8QPDRuGC_3g6NC5-WuIF0McGJpzxb48wJ-AiRqFfLQWDXa7sCYfUNrxQq2sb-OROJnM8dcqv0NpTeSUzWPgwhWYgtiwcSg1MCUok/s1600/IMG_0648_fotor.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
By no means would I say that I am. Phil and I have been climbing every Tuesday on our friend Marsha's (pictured below) indoor climbing wall. As well as getting outside on a regular basis. And for that, I am thankful. Bringing it full circle, I am thankful that I live in a town where getting outside is accessible. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMlh3_NJE5mXqrIjWKCBRnDgDmsloX7Q1zpp1KKBm7APHfsgH7-T-_r5vzLk67r5KC3xeETEfODETj3pdKP6E_bM-jeW5KGFASiRYX69rQXyKLoZ1ffid9HKt3pVF9lrZnA5w0dDzAtyY/s1600/IMG_0674.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMlh3_NJE5mXqrIjWKCBRnDgDmsloX7Q1zpp1KKBm7APHfsgH7-T-_r5vzLk67r5KC3xeETEfODETj3pdKP6E_bM-jeW5KGFASiRYX69rQXyKLoZ1ffid9HKt3pVF9lrZnA5w0dDzAtyY/s1600/IMG_0674.JPG" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
And I'm thankful that I live in a town were people like to come visit. Pictured below is Jennifer, Phil's mom, at the Eureka Sand Dunes in Death Valley National Park. <br />
<br />
Even though our house is small, we love to have friends over. I love it even more when we have friends over to play Settlers of Catan (because I always win). <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcooRF2kGRy7PWBcRyKMkGSKZXN8J5kodSwfR56OR68Q4YiFoC_6wj-ds-stN2G7kzbWAsiaV75Fb6sWRIBITQEmvWDlJGdANyHYIMeqGS8fdUyKieMeDMogvoNp68Wry-s8oObjTls1c/s1600/IMG_0719.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcooRF2kGRy7PWBcRyKMkGSKZXN8J5kodSwfR56OR68Q4YiFoC_6wj-ds-stN2G7kzbWAsiaV75Fb6sWRIBITQEmvWDlJGdANyHYIMeqGS8fdUyKieMeDMogvoNp68Wry-s8oObjTls1c/s1600/IMG_0719.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></div>
<br />
Below is a picture of Bishop Creek Canyon and a picture of Bobby and Sako gazing into the beautiful cloudy sky. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2K6OGTZVny_Dm5WMrdyzyz4_zcPJcBuiMeyeYh8S6w5ySS2V4gT4aI7twWaLTlq7wXOsQQ4KfnAPXs0DUjSCNgNVDSICtxQH4n5qT7dBxZ45vwMle7ENxW7_vCWcbtj1vyHNFqPoEpE/s1600/IMG_0865_fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2K6OGTZVny_Dm5WMrdyzyz4_zcPJcBuiMeyeYh8S6w5ySS2V4gT4aI7twWaLTlq7wXOsQQ4KfnAPXs0DUjSCNgNVDSICtxQH4n5qT7dBxZ45vwMle7ENxW7_vCWcbtj1vyHNFqPoEpE/s1600/IMG_0865_fotor.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Other then the obvious reasons why someone would love Bishop, California: mountains, fishing, hiking, rock climbing, yadda yadda yadda, a major unexpected bonus of moving here has been meeting all the amazing people. For the first time since college, I really feel like I have friends. Below is a photo of Hannah and me rock climbing at Iris Slab in Rock Creek Canyon.<br />
<br />
Hannah and her husband Dustin are two of the good friends we have met, ones that you know will last a life time. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx83uyZKFNp9j3iFUFw5po3YUdwJOtYBzVqOEI6hSRHxIlouN6iWZkVHg_X_UwE0za_uJ_WKr9KpJeO25eJdcqNVt0zRl7CsXLwXvLn1iJfyyVzOG5hpizJUsR2xtPPWg8kfewE50PNxY/s1600/IMG_0870.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx83uyZKFNp9j3iFUFw5po3YUdwJOtYBzVqOEI6hSRHxIlouN6iWZkVHg_X_UwE0za_uJ_WKr9KpJeO25eJdcqNVt0zRl7CsXLwXvLn1iJfyyVzOG5hpizJUsR2xtPPWg8kfewE50PNxY/s1600/IMG_0870.JPG" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-75378262253971799582014-01-30T20:09:00.000-08:002014-01-30T20:09:47.206-08:00Desert Loving<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU_oPJQAit7aNBQCEYawLaM2zKT2NqgMGh7WEP0-RYEzXz5DudwiC4r6bdOL49palOUgmSEdG9gilV7Y69urGKudHr74J1U0b_kp9_3LFTPQtKlpk-XMVDarkm-JyPmA-kZpXJHKjzEYw/s1600/IMG_0288.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU_oPJQAit7aNBQCEYawLaM2zKT2NqgMGh7WEP0-RYEzXz5DudwiC4r6bdOL49palOUgmSEdG9gilV7Y69urGKudHr74J1U0b_kp9_3LFTPQtKlpk-XMVDarkm-JyPmA-kZpXJHKjzEYw/s1600/IMG_0288.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
We took advantage of the 3 day weekend and headed out to Death Valley. I love the desert so much. I LOVE IT! I want to yell it from the mountain tops! I LOVE THE DESERT! Or better yet, yell it from the basin floor. I LOVE THE DESERT! Death Valley is home to the lowest point in the Continental USA, Badwater Basin -282 feet. The photo above is from the drive out to Eureka Dunes, although it looks more like the drive to Joshua Tree National Park.<br />
<br />
The trip didn't involve much planning, but when Saturday came around the crew appeared like magic and before we knew it we were caravaning into no man's land. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6zv921t4dlhRvs2bSQmO-yXMVCqgN6y6yqXc0swqJqwjd3ku5CO6ydAsMpDJ4tPZwDxj8Ykv4j8z-FLK3ivkbsKZd56kbp-SxMyqQV2EsyQBKOuhNdu3VR3zZ2VEmpHT90S0veSSU8CQ/s1600/IMG_0369.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6zv921t4dlhRvs2bSQmO-yXMVCqgN6y6yqXc0swqJqwjd3ku5CO6ydAsMpDJ4tPZwDxj8Ykv4j8z-FLK3ivkbsKZd56kbp-SxMyqQV2EsyQBKOuhNdu3VR3zZ2VEmpHT90S0veSSU8CQ/s1600/IMG_0369.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Es7aDS08QX3hiP4q15Mg2pmz_THwOOoK-EGEoHBLbx2ANm5T_99EHr7Y9nCWeyQ6k_c8DMWUDv-ydoaW_iczAuXV4JGKxL5xvpqCKIfde7pSvg_5dEzQc9YSPohrfHoBFUcvLO4-Sxg/s1600/IMG_0308.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Es7aDS08QX3hiP4q15Mg2pmz_THwOOoK-EGEoHBLbx2ANm5T_99EHr7Y9nCWeyQ6k_c8DMWUDv-ydoaW_iczAuXV4JGKxL5xvpqCKIfde7pSvg_5dEzQc9YSPohrfHoBFUcvLO4-Sxg/s1600/IMG_0308.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
The Eureka Dunes rise a staggering 700 feet out of the valley floor and do something that doesn't seem possible, or even conceivable... they sing. I know, I didn't believe it either, but yes. When the loose sand slides down the face of the dune, the vibrations travel between the dense sand and the less dense sand to make a vibrating humming sound. Check out this <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4mbypyJjqhk" target="_blank">YouTube</a> clip. It was filmed at the Eureka Dunes. Here is <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4yFaMsUawi4" target="_blank">another video</a> that is explains the phenomenon pretty well. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJSUVDw1Xzahd0wrQjgZvODDBAKg4lJ_1-05YMLywgny49X3o9x-0C2jYvd5Q4NPS2GeHs0ubSGDQNUnjlzf31NCnFAV7ymBpUy7apNjT-XNHNf4CRpZmaJSaPx_Ju3v9XG1RojwKEZeY/s1600/IMG_0311.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJSUVDw1Xzahd0wrQjgZvODDBAKg4lJ_1-05YMLywgny49X3o9x-0C2jYvd5Q4NPS2GeHs0ubSGDQNUnjlzf31NCnFAV7ymBpUy7apNjT-XNHNf4CRpZmaJSaPx_Ju3v9XG1RojwKEZeY/s1600/IMG_0311.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
We spent Saturday playing at the dunes, set up camp and played some bocci ball with Patty. There Phil is below making us some sandwiches, Grandpappy Phil with his glasses hanging off his nose.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTrojaqYzeratAdt4rFJHbwk525GwXIBSqQs9xI0ecN5LEFCKStPND71K1fcuS3ydzC2LiHdEziydlfJpst5XZALDk4kLISO1QEGrzrE08GQrKNdpAGctH3XtH0xWT5SLpO7Lqu2Mmeo/s1600/IMG_0312.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTrojaqYzeratAdt4rFJHbwk525GwXIBSqQs9xI0ecN5LEFCKStPND71K1fcuS3ydzC2LiHdEziydlfJpst5XZALDk4kLISO1QEGrzrE08GQrKNdpAGctH3XtH0xWT5SLpO7Lqu2Mmeo/s1600/IMG_0312.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
This is my kind of camp ground. Look at that view.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG5Sk7ztQ32VVJq4CuzqdsOe4RKJ32NT33lH9LENNiLZlk-XZiFFZXw28khLbT1wCRTij03CmS8C2vP0bDrJAg1hESKB4C21Z-NaUumkxzmhflDkfHk-nbDYVSZ1lIxFX8PyrLCKiN3zo/s1600/IMG_0313.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG5Sk7ztQ32VVJq4CuzqdsOe4RKJ32NT33lH9LENNiLZlk-XZiFFZXw28khLbT1wCRTij03CmS8C2vP0bDrJAg1hESKB4C21Z-NaUumkxzmhflDkfHk-nbDYVSZ1lIxFX8PyrLCKiN3zo/s1600/IMG_0313.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm6sPjYs-lUee7-sTpR4u0js5CZX5kSkojNT5VwEXTQObAo-hYcB6ePlgMjzwVt_CkQLfc2-YMPcVSFhsJaU0N-3CvC_BuMGcurYGlAMWay4DPQ7P369inSuPjGPmJ-IhOfKAwOJsBorY/s1600/IMG_0315.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm6sPjYs-lUee7-sTpR4u0js5CZX5kSkojNT5VwEXTQObAo-hYcB6ePlgMjzwVt_CkQLfc2-YMPcVSFhsJaU0N-3CvC_BuMGcurYGlAMWay4DPQ7P369inSuPjGPmJ-IhOfKAwOJsBorY/s1600/IMG_0315.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyNJqY-raG1yCHqzgZnzhPO0N_164BpnlLlh9ro_f-ggJwjGlt1UsarrbneJG5tGoMFLonkjSKNro0FQnBRqpS2-wDsH6HogzRbg06i15fWBmEMcZlXgZX6I4RCOlkMVTvgWufb-yV8gA/s1600/IMG_0330.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyNJqY-raG1yCHqzgZnzhPO0N_164BpnlLlh9ro_f-ggJwjGlt1UsarrbneJG5tGoMFLonkjSKNro0FQnBRqpS2-wDsH6HogzRbg06i15fWBmEMcZlXgZX6I4RCOlkMVTvgWufb-yV8gA/s1600/IMG_0330.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjejgXBybDw5s7ICjuPhroHUYi6HQtXDoCP2DRfLvKcXmkTjGH_lY6gjIAfnLt0XyTp477uupB0D1-8740uSfE-fPeAfNSWbIgrEtQnoOLEHY95AnSiOB8EtbRawzN2W5ZqwEotIffGaw8/s1600/IMG_0331.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjejgXBybDw5s7ICjuPhroHUYi6HQtXDoCP2DRfLvKcXmkTjGH_lY6gjIAfnLt0XyTp477uupB0D1-8740uSfE-fPeAfNSWbIgrEtQnoOLEHY95AnSiOB8EtbRawzN2W5ZqwEotIffGaw8/s1600/IMG_0331.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
Hiking up the dunes were as you may imagine, incredibly exhausting and a little frustrating. Talk about one step forward and two steps back.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs7nBysD6O4sgeV9mLynBZ_fJXAP3QPx8rJiNRs2DQw0u_Tbb1BeTJU5Qiz3Z8L0Ji0FoLkngayMN24dS759jwLphyphenhyphenXU-TWmpQaoamp7qpJp3xRONINGIIaZWrU3ENiFoyFyRk2-yJZS8/s1600/IMG_0337.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs7nBysD6O4sgeV9mLynBZ_fJXAP3QPx8rJiNRs2DQw0u_Tbb1BeTJU5Qiz3Z8L0Ji0FoLkngayMN24dS759jwLphyphenhyphenXU-TWmpQaoamp7qpJp3xRONINGIIaZWrU3ENiFoyFyRk2-yJZS8/s1600/IMG_0337.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
I'm happy to be sitting on the top in this photo, although Phil still had quite a bit more work to do. It's not out of character for Phil to sleep a ton but after that hike Phil crawled into the tent and didn't emerge until the sun was about to set. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMQvT8qYWeNyfzJWJXFN16KiNpNKzY3vLbgbtlCPlPELtYC_X_srDUEaNDOIzy0iX4L0n8JfKMKERbqG70i_rpRID7koqiE0MzDjFlPXyiCfaXw1n8tBu9ZWYCsY4YQSVg4QP4fpc5zIM/s1600/IMG_0339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMQvT8qYWeNyfzJWJXFN16KiNpNKzY3vLbgbtlCPlPELtYC_X_srDUEaNDOIzy0iX4L0n8JfKMKERbqG70i_rpRID7koqiE0MzDjFlPXyiCfaXw1n8tBu9ZWYCsY4YQSVg4QP4fpc5zIM/s1600/IMG_0339.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
In the photo above you can see the 10 mile dirt road that takes you straight to the dunes. And the photo below, Amo is happy to eat some bread. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOS9lRBdeEsg8va0_aGbdBAb-kzapqf15o5_pKd-tLdKxZ-CZsc7nk2j43xYQo36_bN3uD2NDVIq44ECMXuCFLKkKfU5obpOHdGPZhN598kU-J9sXhjKrW3BJ2hiJYoH03jnMNNm4ykhc/s1600/IMG_0343.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOS9lRBdeEsg8va0_aGbdBAb-kzapqf15o5_pKd-tLdKxZ-CZsc7nk2j43xYQo36_bN3uD2NDVIq44ECMXuCFLKkKfU5obpOHdGPZhN598kU-J9sXhjKrW3BJ2hiJYoH03jnMNNm4ykhc/s1600/IMG_0343.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
At first the thought of "I don't really want to get sand all over my body" crossed my mind, but once I got a little sand in my shoes, I thought, "What the hell, might as well go all out." Steve was somersaulting down the hill and I was log rolling down before I knew it. Yes I had sand in my underwear like when I was a kid sitting in the ocean at low tide, but I didn't care. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgts8ZQG-6wdTyR80tdQPkp7PdvyGKAMUxlDxcOpLqyCwFz5sEP3SMNdvxivF0eVu_qwvQow4YRDyDEPnB5dX6RYMtZRiV9eN_7wELfdW6YNbIaKMZOr9JH5Oaw3EMTR1oK5RWZTo5JhLU/s1600/IMG_0344.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgts8ZQG-6wdTyR80tdQPkp7PdvyGKAMUxlDxcOpLqyCwFz5sEP3SMNdvxivF0eVu_qwvQow4YRDyDEPnB5dX6RYMtZRiV9eN_7wELfdW6YNbIaKMZOr9JH5Oaw3EMTR1oK5RWZTo5JhLU/s1600/IMG_0344.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIlCC6qL9u2n-wNiaZLrlHgi0FNrxdMBBUDKv3dSOwmWLhnVkuZnLtvKNhRKhwGMCPQ8MD3FwsGcDH1B0XsOI619IMxM3W6890ru1AyzNr-BkwGTcILLyH0af_0s2VyzqiXX2B-tKDkfY/s1600/IMG_0353.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIlCC6qL9u2n-wNiaZLrlHgi0FNrxdMBBUDKv3dSOwmWLhnVkuZnLtvKNhRKhwGMCPQ8MD3FwsGcDH1B0XsOI619IMxM3W6890ru1AyzNr-BkwGTcILLyH0af_0s2VyzqiXX2B-tKDkfY/s1600/IMG_0353.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
This photo below was actually taken in the early a.m. which I just learned stands for ante meridian, meaning "before noon."<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6rU5X4dMgi5pQTmGAleBMKpEP4JW8c_MAxIRX6Tz8uvWf-3ZhmANv-5zfo1Ty-RZNeRAt-JP8t_d3mETyPJ2ksQfeP_gwNPXDqRj4jx7__s-yncs0XXzlCxHxabMIWocoo3CF1i22oEA/s1600/IMG_0365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6rU5X4dMgi5pQTmGAleBMKpEP4JW8c_MAxIRX6Tz8uvWf-3ZhmANv-5zfo1Ty-RZNeRAt-JP8t_d3mETyPJ2ksQfeP_gwNPXDqRj4jx7__s-yncs0XXzlCxHxabMIWocoo3CF1i22oEA/s1600/IMG_0365.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
We said goodbye to Patty at the Dunes and continued further into the national park, the next destination being the Ubehebe Crater.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhMt2UZ_3pze7d2-QCFi9TJi6KFPaTvyUza3y9__xESZxBXVnav1J0JBvGgsXsGARJReF45eZCczGyXXHr6SQxp2Sy_x3ODsSZSK9Iym88-vJ2TKHL4IKLaDJOZPRq_AqZaI0WR_TNQcA/s1600/IMG_0372.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhMt2UZ_3pze7d2-QCFi9TJi6KFPaTvyUza3y9__xESZxBXVnav1J0JBvGgsXsGARJReF45eZCczGyXXHr6SQxp2Sy_x3ODsSZSK9Iym88-vJ2TKHL4IKLaDJOZPRq_AqZaI0WR_TNQcA/s1600/IMG_0372.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIflSetepSLff6xqUGJaiTySIYUdEU_5uqn2HVeCK1QDcqFIbZXJ3Ww5ELdbZdqxr9Xab8Cp6GhgluqSbfrEWirElnJgL1u3Ghvi-yBJHYB3-HQMsMUqS4fzmbG1WbREz27RQF22iH8iA/s1600/IMG_0376.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIflSetepSLff6xqUGJaiTySIYUdEU_5uqn2HVeCK1QDcqFIbZXJ3Ww5ELdbZdqxr9Xab8Cp6GhgluqSbfrEWirElnJgL1u3Ghvi-yBJHYB3-HQMsMUqS4fzmbG1WbREz27RQF22iH8iA/s1600/IMG_0376.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
Here is a photo of the crater below, it is about 600 feet deep and was created from a volcanic explosion only about 2,000 years ago. If you look closely you can see some people at the bottom. We didn't hike all the way down, maybe next time.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH8-W151Glu5j_YfXTJXLrxUkF2Zru3rQlRSzHC-Hx1U9XprU8ndMUIUSDj-RfnSzVY8g541t8hxi_5QEP1WI-FCFsayIEHR_rFyDF9hs0xt9RVCk-J6BOwKk-ANvZ_04OfLdkh-97jiw/s1600/IMG_0378.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH8-W151Glu5j_YfXTJXLrxUkF2Zru3rQlRSzHC-Hx1U9XprU8ndMUIUSDj-RfnSzVY8g541t8hxi_5QEP1WI-FCFsayIEHR_rFyDF9hs0xt9RVCk-J6BOwKk-ANvZ_04OfLdkh-97jiw/s1600/IMG_0378.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgakDUF7kQRkutgUQDEKf58zPMPhP3KyNQPC3pJRUBBbW-hmPOW7EA-8QWHwraq37weOa8xgNH4c3TxRL8_95TBqeNIk8xr2r5_QPiDbKGPBzOdRO-ap7Lk4-sS-9kO0VxoYn-MuLyfnNM/s1600/IMG_0384.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgakDUF7kQRkutgUQDEKf58zPMPhP3KyNQPC3pJRUBBbW-hmPOW7EA-8QWHwraq37weOa8xgNH4c3TxRL8_95TBqeNIk8xr2r5_QPiDbKGPBzOdRO-ap7Lk4-sS-9kO0VxoYn-MuLyfnNM/s1600/IMG_0384.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
Next we headed to Scotty's Castle, a beautifully elaborate Spanish-style mansion tucked in the middle of a desert. It seems very bizarre driving for hours on what feels and looks like the moon, then rounding a dirt mountain to see a few cottonwood trees, date palms and Abrakadabrah! A 1920's millionaire's vacation retreat. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhStam5tcKQOlfI530lIdvHeCeQdjbNU_gUUjdS2l2d1JktM-12C49W7Do8glUj701053DJle4LHr2FzpUGcZXyW_DkZXXGdc660ihfEME5UIQvY87qHnW4Ny2vLNWBuHRNjFcdx4sH3ns/s1600/IMG_0387.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhStam5tcKQOlfI530lIdvHeCeQdjbNU_gUUjdS2l2d1JktM-12C49W7Do8glUj701053DJle4LHr2FzpUGcZXyW_DkZXXGdc660ihfEME5UIQvY87qHnW4Ny2vLNWBuHRNjFcdx4sH3ns/s1600/IMG_0387.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
I love the story of the castle and how it came to be, so I'll share it with you if you don't already know. <br />
<br />
The story starts with someone who become known as Death Valley Scotty. Scotty started working for the Buffalo Bill's Wild West Horse Show after being scouted by Bill himself. He traveled for years with the show until one day he showed up late, probably drunk, as it seemed drinking was one of his favorite past times, and was fired.<br />
<br />
He didn't know what to do with himself so he headed to Colorado to tour a gold mine. He received a piece of ore as a souvenir. That little hunk of rock soon became his best friend. He took that piece of ore to investors all over Chicago and New York, telling them about his mine in Death Valley. Yes, he would tell them that all they had to do was invest X amount of dollars and they would be rolling in the returns in no time.<br />
<br />
So what did ol' Scotty do with all that money? He began living large. Tipping waitresses fifty dollars, buying rounds for the house and tossing coins into the streets. You can imagine this guy created quite a reputation for himself. Well one of the investors, Albert Johnson finally decided to catch up with ol' Scotty since he hadn't seen any of the returns he had been promised. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOTsluf9hsCLgy86M2XO9orlyoyHgipxYaGyaNEhOPHbr4TiKcK8wxC51m8apd1OCfzPgfhiX-hIBLNj1avFBxVjBYdaXwQKib_C-Jhoh2jXsnOJds7UZLIRntZN_8JMhdCVuwbHmMoqE/s1600/IMG_0389.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOTsluf9hsCLgy86M2XO9orlyoyHgipxYaGyaNEhOPHbr4TiKcK8wxC51m8apd1OCfzPgfhiX-hIBLNj1avFBxVjBYdaXwQKib_C-Jhoh2jXsnOJds7UZLIRntZN_8JMhdCVuwbHmMoqE/s1600/IMG_0389.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
Johnson decided he would take a trip out to Death Valley to see the mine for himself. Scotty, being quick on his feet decided that he and his friend would host a heist hoax and scare the city slicker millionaire right back to the East where he belongs. Well.... not so much.<br />
<br />
See, Johnson grew up reading penny comics about the wild west and LOVED the idea of cowboys, robbers, saloons, bar fights, all that. So when he and Scotty were intercepted by the "robbers," shots were fired, Scotty told them to shoot high, but the guys decided in their drunken stupor that it would be more believable if the shot low, in the dirt.<br />
<br />
As you can imagine, that wasn't such a good idea. Scotty's own brother was shot and Scotty called 'uncle' in the whole debacle. Johnson was loving every moment of the cowboy shoot out but quickly put together that something wasn't right. Outlaws don't just stop shooting when they are asked to. His thoughts, I imagine, were linked together pretty quickly. This is weird. Cowboys aren't like this in the books. Scotty is playing me. There is no gold mine.<br />
<br />
A side note, Scotty's brother survived. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7hwDMDb0J2SfxewfW9rL6LWKEiaYZ6F7bl3u0EpukHH5Sqn0w0gHVgSfsp7GpLCzFdhEDpBxRmbKdG3Nna0SRlqQLFMOmKtlN0ChOyO1i5uP7ke8q0wUDY7MsCvbMODeIyOVUlFnRHHc/s1600/IMG_0400.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7hwDMDb0J2SfxewfW9rL6LWKEiaYZ6F7bl3u0EpukHH5Sqn0w0gHVgSfsp7GpLCzFdhEDpBxRmbKdG3Nna0SRlqQLFMOmKtlN0ChOyO1i5uP7ke8q0wUDY7MsCvbMODeIyOVUlFnRHHc/s1600/IMG_0400.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
Instead of Johnson loosing his cool, he befriended Scotty. Scotty was Johnson's ticket to <i>The Wild West.</i><br />
<br />
And that was the start of a beautiful friendship. <br />
<br />
Now, the castle comes into existence because Johnson's wife, Betsy, was a city girl. She didn't want to miss out on all the fun but didn't like the idea of camping. And anything worth doing is worth over doing? I guess it you're a millionaire.<br />
<br />
This place had hand painted lamb skin curtains, paintings imported from Italy, Spain, a theater style self-playing organ, plans for a swimming pool, hand made/custom EVERYTHING. It was incredible, this place was amazing. They called it Scotty's Castle because the Johnson's were modest people and didn't want the attention.<br />
<br />
The three lived a good life in the desert, the ended up turning the castle into a tourist destination, allowing guests to stay and be entertained by Scotty himself. I wish we could have been able to experience the castle then.<br />
<br />
Annnnnywayyyyyy. Definitely a trip worth making! I can't wait to go back. Gotta love that desert. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVG4hyphenhyphenwYLTvV43bHn4O8qdOnoKYE6rri3hWZ8GClmHvw1HmTyM2z19kTI3MqD9HpDwvc0W4ijJFx-nwUECNVaKxdls2AmbeBkS1wCcgXb3vhKs5f4P411oCMWF42OVueM6Gl6lk4ZfsnA/s1600/IMG_0417.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVG4hyphenhyphenwYLTvV43bHn4O8qdOnoKYE6rri3hWZ8GClmHvw1HmTyM2z19kTI3MqD9HpDwvc0W4ijJFx-nwUECNVaKxdls2AmbeBkS1wCcgXb3vhKs5f4P411oCMWF42OVueM6Gl6lk4ZfsnA/s1600/IMG_0417.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFLMF2JL2okHJNpG4MV4QN7fsMi8Zr0srya-t2VqYX0CyYOnqZvvh6umyToL46ysGAXwCWS0kcXVpNYIHdDOzc2C40WJok3XsZq0MRmNSoY2sy7XH3ubVO51UC84kgSFRp_6gFGhCVKmQ/s1600/IMG_0419.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFLMF2JL2okHJNpG4MV4QN7fsMi8Zr0srya-t2VqYX0CyYOnqZvvh6umyToL46ysGAXwCWS0kcXVpNYIHdDOzc2C40WJok3XsZq0MRmNSoY2sy7XH3ubVO51UC84kgSFRp_6gFGhCVKmQ/s1600/IMG_0419.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-68559945873928169642013-11-07T14:05:00.002-08:002013-11-07T14:05:33.138-08:00It's Not All Bad News<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpefbK9MsFm2TgcQBaI_6nJBai3kcKJJ2GVlazC0_sVI2Ggh6CcpRy9o7PUE_ERTQa2fWU6cdt8OJTUK2ge4mZGth0A41hTDFsxmApZuYXA-W4CijwWT8sU-6eoeORaEYM4sUC9Gc5pNo/s1600/IMG_9909.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpefbK9MsFm2TgcQBaI_6nJBai3kcKJJ2GVlazC0_sVI2Ggh6CcpRy9o7PUE_ERTQa2fWU6cdt8OJTUK2ge4mZGth0A41hTDFsxmApZuYXA-W4CijwWT8sU-6eoeORaEYM4sUC9Gc5pNo/s320/IMG_9909.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Although I am left feeling quite a bit uneasy about my decision to call a tech support to fix the virus on Phil's computer (and after a Google search, thinking I over paid... ok, WAY over paid), I decided, that it's not all bad news.<br />
<br />
The company that helped me out, Niva Solutions Inc. seemed to be quite knowledgeable and helpful, and the two computer techs that I talked to seemed quite nice. Through their heavy Indian accents they assured me that everything was going to be ok and not to worry. Mike (yeah, don't think that was his real name) even went as far as telling me to get a cup of coffee, sit down and watch the computer screen as they fix everything.<br />
<br />
After everything, I'm still a little confused as to what happened to the computer in the first place, what was fixed and how our computer got hacked any how.<br />
<br />
Water under the bridge now. I'm just going to try to forget everything, be happy to know that we now have 24/7 lifetime computer tech support and a friend somewhere in India.<br />
<br />So it's really not all bad news. While our computer was being worked on, I sat in the kitchen and watched the computer with a cup of coffee and worried my ass off but to my surprise, I looked out the kitchen window, and THE BIRDS FINALLY FOUND THE BIRD FEEDER! It's been almost a month and I haven't seen a single one until today. I told my dad the day I hung the feeder, "feed them and they shall come..." and well, I was a little worried they wouldn't but they finally did. So that's good.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGJeV38xifU4l-EX0Thx33dk9SwJW8NC_oIvgbQgVkM5X2GJGOcwtI_SJe7hbQ8XeOjOF-ByFbT46o6F8QyDLYQEMpbcXdIB_n2ofmtfbIPt3h3L0uIFLsyekIyXTh4v3mU1Ls3nyE_9U/s1600/IMG_9912.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGJeV38xifU4l-EX0Thx33dk9SwJW8NC_oIvgbQgVkM5X2GJGOcwtI_SJe7hbQ8XeOjOF-ByFbT46o6F8QyDLYQEMpbcXdIB_n2ofmtfbIPt3h3L0uIFLsyekIyXTh4v3mU1Ls3nyE_9U/s320/IMG_9912.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
AND, to make it even better, I finished my first peyote cuff bracelet
thanks to a half dozen YouTube videos and about 6 hours of my time. AND
it came out even better then I had hoped. So that's also good.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTMm0J6RgonSnQdsNQbkTEMDdxjS4tvC7LvEvyeMJ7yG42GS4ZzIVDhuizjwZnV-K2StKaW6h4ZlrPGK6Y-LcUlWuv9EXzQnqlJispuNyeX49Fu7NqOfSc_84L_R8U7bbzWfrJfwVNpkI/s1600/IMG_9913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTMm0J6RgonSnQdsNQbkTEMDdxjS4tvC7LvEvyeMJ7yG42GS4ZzIVDhuizjwZnV-K2StKaW6h4ZlrPGK6Y-LcUlWuv9EXzQnqlJispuNyeX49Fu7NqOfSc_84L_R8U7bbzWfrJfwVNpkI/s320/IMG_9913.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPDKd6-tfSGALqGwJPJBjn_unF8LJDNEbsVGE0K4NPBucc6ULZ52gzq0KI7nfkRr1s6buHEwbpj16nn8qGiQdqUl2VgP7WHaBnk79-ItonQagAYiI5guThcL4CoVtjyPXuh6J-j6t9vwI/s1600/IMG_9922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPDKd6-tfSGALqGwJPJBjn_unF8LJDNEbsVGE0K4NPBucc6ULZ52gzq0KI7nfkRr1s6buHEwbpj16nn8qGiQdqUl2VgP7WHaBnk79-ItonQagAYiI5guThcL4CoVtjyPXuh6J-j6t9vwI/s320/IMG_9922.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
So, yes, the day turned out to not be so bad, again, trying to forget how much I spent of getting this computer fixed, but, it IS fixed, we have birds eating from the feeder, I finished my bracelet AND now Phil's home from work, so maybe go climbing and blow off some steam... My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-48572961741984469312013-11-03T21:16:00.001-08:002013-11-03T21:41:58.733-08:00How Did That Happen?This blog post never made it to fruition. I was just browsing through some old posts and stumbled on this draft... it's from October 2010. Here it is.<br />
<br />
I purchased my second vehicle last week. A 1995 Ford Ranger. Two doors, camper shell, manual. I would like to present David Douglas.<br />
<br />
Here Fumie and I are sitting on the tail gate at Shelf Road, it's the only picture I could find of David. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk-0UcOrVVQz1o-ks1cjdPB8LsWop7D_H_mAKziMVIu2gZdyiW9d0WP3qtmsAOgUfMxxzAJv53lgz0_4BtiHHPXmdYuaRdcknhyiqelFMCA_mYjoEq1IJn-uKm5WwdEbvkO978z0cjsN8/s1600/IMG_1419.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk-0UcOrVVQz1o-ks1cjdPB8LsWop7D_H_mAKziMVIu2gZdyiW9d0WP3qtmsAOgUfMxxzAJv53lgz0_4BtiHHPXmdYuaRdcknhyiqelFMCA_mYjoEq1IJn-uKm5WwdEbvkO978z0cjsN8/s320/IMG_1419.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
My first car, a 1988 Toyota Camry was named by my dad. Lidia. I bought Lidia from my friend Alyssa for $400. The back 2 doors didn't open but I thought, hey I always wanted a 2 door car. The speedometer didn't work, you just had to feel out what you thought 30 mph was or 70 mph was. Then the Avalon, yeah, my dad named her too, Phoebe. I went back to driving Lidia when the opportunity to but the ranger came along. When I bought the ranger I knew it needed a name pranto.<br />
<br />
The name came after a visit to a pick-your-own pumpkin patch. Named after a dog. The dog belonged to Jake the farmer, off of Hwy 34. Jake grows a lot of pumpkins, also veggies. Firewood... and apparently he naming genius when it comes to naming dogs. He named German shepherd David, now the name sake to my 95 Ranger. And the Doug just came naturally. David or Doug, both too good to be true, but with the help of my good and faithful friend, Cake, I mean Kate, we decided on David Douglas. <br />
<br />
The Maiden Voyage<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn6J39t7Zv2aC4QMPiTBVgPVY8QvWW5E-sCv8dpuWgmME03cAZ0-vRj-oN0atNJhwyhhaGNBzpBevpBSqio1aZZeQwOF-Lq_fAuPRLLPXuGdSldTyr-aY-vQnxJjc-sy-GlojFOcv7thE/s1600/IMG_2041.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529975525279720434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn6J39t7Zv2aC4QMPiTBVgPVY8QvWW5E-sCv8dpuWgmME03cAZ0-vRj-oN0atNJhwyhhaGNBzpBevpBSqio1aZZeQwOF-Lq_fAuPRLLPXuGdSldTyr-aY-vQnxJjc-sy-GlojFOcv7thE/s400/IMG_2041.JPG" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 225px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<br />
Last weekend I went on a spur of the moment trip up to Pingree. I wanted Ally to get her jollies out, as my dad says, and at the same time give myself a little vacation from the ranch. I packed haphazardly. Throwing everything into a box. Thinking.. humm... headlamp, check. Sleeping bag, check. Sleeping pad, check. Food, check. Warm clothes, check. With those few things I felt I pretty much had all my bases covered. <br />
<br />
I was anxious to get out of here since I wanted to arrive with some day light left to set up camp. I made one trip to the truck, throwing in my box, Ally, and my hiking boots. Came back to the Hillcrest Trailer, looked around. Went into my room to grab a pillow, I mean if you're going to car camp, you may as well, right? Did my final go around and loaded up. <br />
<br />
It's a beautiful drive to Pingree. Up through Buckhorn Canyon, left on 44 and about an hour later your looking at the Mummy Mountain Range. <br />
<br />
I don't know how it happened, even with all that looking around, I forgot the box of food. Yes, all of it, well, all I had was a little beef jerky AND Ally's dog food (at least I brought that).<br />
<br />
After a really rough night,* I called the day at Cirque Meadows, totaling a womping 6 miles. Prematurely headed back to the Ranch, and took a nap and ate some food. <br />
<br />
Well worth it? Always. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF6g1pLrCkfQClI6yra9zxRs_dIHAgMk3mxQVHWGNEZXcRXOTIgjo49krMGCjuGlzDzCEDFg8W-zcu-105xB36Y0QFuPE7IwFXrY8jcF1HSYbndxoXEZtdVtA2cSrv9-jShIy12_hefXI/s1600/IMG_2045.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529975530326857922" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF6g1pLrCkfQClI6yra9zxRs_dIHAgMk3mxQVHWGNEZXcRXOTIgjo49krMGCjuGlzDzCEDFg8W-zcu-105xB36Y0QFuPE7IwFXrY8jcF1HSYbndxoXEZtdVtA2cSrv9-jShIy12_hefXI/s400/IMG_2045.JPG" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 225px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
The rough night, it was the roughest night. In October it's already quite cold up in the mountains so Ally and I were seriously bundled up in out sleeping bags. I had on multiple layers of clothes and was totally cinched into my mummy bag. We were sleeping in the back of my truck, which you can't lock the shell, and were feeling really vulnerable. I was thinking, if someone wanted to come in here and give us a hard time, I would be totally trapped... well while we were going to sleep, we could hear some people a few sites down blasting Nine Inch Nails and System of a Down... not the most enchanting music to fall asleep too... and it just left me thinking, what if those are the people that I'm worried about and what if they decide to give me a hard time?<br />
<br />
Well sometime after falling asleep, I don't know what time it was but I think I was dreaming it or it may of actually been happening. I hear foot steps outside of my truck. I jolted straight up as Ally begun to bark. Whatever I heard, she heard too. I tried looking out the window but saw nothing. I thought about letting Ally out to attack whatever it was we heard but decided against it on the off chance it was a moose or something.<br />
<br />
I laid back down on my sleeping pad making sure my Leatherman tool was close at hand. Somehow I managed to go back to sleep. And nothing else ever became of the mysterious foot steps.My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-84403234453379931642013-11-02T19:39:00.000-07:002013-11-02T20:40:26.655-07:00Red Kuri Souffle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWPK4xkyfru9a5JBh8R3vlhcLx7TSZnISmlHk_UZx6eO-LZYv6dD0_nY44jqEmje8O9lnLzLj2WVwjN8Gvzx1PuhYmFmtntn9xuuq3xT2CqCoyUkkqQmdgvE9usTML8zZBNtnXMADY4zo/s1600/IMG_9784.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWPK4xkyfru9a5JBh8R3vlhcLx7TSZnISmlHk_UZx6eO-LZYv6dD0_nY44jqEmje8O9lnLzLj2WVwjN8Gvzx1PuhYmFmtntn9xuuq3xT2CqCoyUkkqQmdgvE9usTML8zZBNtnXMADY4zo/s320/IMG_9784.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Here it is. I got a carrot souffle recipe from Dave and Alisha a couple years back, chances are if you are reading this you have probably tried said souffle, being it is really easy to make and ALWAYS a crowd pleaser at pot lucks, it's my go-to dish.<br />
<br />
Tonight Phil and I are going to a Dia de los Muertos party.... and I went climbing a little too long today at the Buttermilks, so I was scrambling to put something together for the pot luck. I thought, "Souffle!" Duh, it's your go-to dish like you just said, but we have no carrots! But we do have that kuri squash that I wanted to make soup with... and that's how it happened.<br />
<br />
I can't tell you if it's good or not, I will have to wait till we get to the party to try it, but it smells good, looks good and chances are... it's going to be good!<br />
<br />
If you want to try it at home, it's quite easy. All you need is:<br />
<br />
1 red kuri squash (I boiled it because I felt pressed for time, but it would probably be better if you roasted it. Whatever way you get there, you want it easily squashed (haha, pun) with a fork)<br />
1/2 cup melted butter<br />
1 teaspoon vanilla<br />
3 eggs<br />
3 tablespoons flour<br />
1 teaspoon baking powder<br />
3/4 cup white sugar<br />
1/2 teaspoon salt (I never add this because I always use salted butter)<br />
<br />
Put everything in a processor, grease a 9" glass pie dish, cook at 325 (don't forget to preheat) for about 50 minutes. And tah-dah! Souffle!<br />
<br />
It always looks best right when you pull it out of the oven, after a little reading online, souffles fall. It's just want they do, so don't be upset when it happens. I read something about adding egg white powder to make the egg protein more hardy and make it more firm... I didn't do this but who cares what it looks like anyway as long as it tastes good! And I don't know if this one will or not*, but if you substitute the kuri for 1 lb. carrots you absolutely will not go wrong.<br />
<br />
*OMG, yes, it's good. <br />
<br />
My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-55401341096173473452013-10-31T21:13:00.000-07:002013-10-31T21:13:05.237-07:00Lake Sabrina?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_dATDUnf7nbNy9gZ4N9qVgw2xNzORmam4d8539AMAz55hCsKl_yCoHJHj4xjQJTBaP78Z2nROlJHHKC3rp9c3KYmZPDHYmW67a7Hrdj46QI92FrN0szogw8B-5b1bFyMStNJGnxAdNy8/s1600/IMG_9758.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_dATDUnf7nbNy9gZ4N9qVgw2xNzORmam4d8539AMAz55hCsKl_yCoHJHj4xjQJTBaP78Z2nROlJHHKC3rp9c3KYmZPDHYmW67a7Hrdj46QI92FrN0szogw8B-5b1bFyMStNJGnxAdNy8/s320/IMG_9758.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Phil and I decided since he wasn't working today and I... well I'm not working at all... should go for a Halloween drive up to Lake Sabrina, or what's left of it. Unlike Rock Creek Lake, Lake Sabrina is a reservoir that (after a quick wiki search) constantly flows into a hydraulic power plant. At least when there is enough water to do so. Supplying water, and apparently power to Bishop area. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSIgWE5Ctj-Q4jVTsHqE5ZFu0iOG8wBewmfH9nmb_iiEIZlUD9QxvPgY5D-Oqbw1HzLDjKckIrhAJhJyXC4YYXqpuRx1oqLcpv4_7B7HvG7qpF3fNWXKe-cbTmeKRoTVtKpyPhSiiGJdk/s1600/IMG_9761.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSIgWE5Ctj-Q4jVTsHqE5ZFu0iOG8wBewmfH9nmb_iiEIZlUD9QxvPgY5D-Oqbw1HzLDjKckIrhAJhJyXC4YYXqpuRx1oqLcpv4_7B7HvG7qpF3fNWXKe-cbTmeKRoTVtKpyPhSiiGJdk/s320/IMG_9761.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
A little fun fact that I just happened to stumble upon, thanks wikipedia, is that Lake Sabrina, which everyone pronounces "Sab-bry-nuh" is actually named after the wife of the general who built the dam in 1907-1908, Mrs. Sabrina Hobbs. But she pronounces her name "Sah-BREE-nuh." No one knows why the pronunciation was changed. They can't blame it on an illiterate sign maker like at Bodie State Park, which was originally Bodey. But with that one they welcomed the spelling change to ensure correct pronunciation. "Sab-bry-nuh" and "Suh-BREE-nuh" are both spelled Sabrina. I digress. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaCBhFM7lgwVt7t0VxY0NNHsGi3FXStsRcXvFTkJjiiicNqt8LowDKEMFziMTOImXPsiyIFEwatFfqofLNhsub3IRWFU8LOcB0Yc8yt_sBg6Kbe5SzIm25c7yoRKnBg5SKIe-JEZv5msU/s1600/IMG_9764.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaCBhFM7lgwVt7t0VxY0NNHsGi3FXStsRcXvFTkJjiiicNqt8LowDKEMFziMTOImXPsiyIFEwatFfqofLNhsub3IRWFU8LOcB0Yc8yt_sBg6Kbe5SzIm25c7yoRKnBg5SKIe-JEZv5msU/s320/IMG_9764.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
Our Halloween hike was not filled with smelling trick or treaters feet and getting our underwear pulled down, but Phil found a rock to climb (not hard to do here) and I brought my favorite candy along for the novelty. York peppermint patties.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWdbtro9rRLudMssWJP6RmdTpkp8_zVzVUZZl6HmLo7CB3U3nGLOtmnLakt_CAu2BORUTeJTTDnKypd5lr2ZQ5KIrHiJL6HJAdHWJe6ZZOipEII8RF47qEeOSppPh_JWP18MBPo0dm0pY/s1600/IMG_9771.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWdbtro9rRLudMssWJP6RmdTpkp8_zVzVUZZl6HmLo7CB3U3nGLOtmnLakt_CAu2BORUTeJTTDnKypd5lr2ZQ5KIrHiJL6HJAdHWJe6ZZOipEII8RF47qEeOSppPh_JWP18MBPo0dm0pY/s320/IMG_9771.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLqGcU4M-4YiLc74-273sD2GB8_04_I-RtKz5DgbE65LOMKoVptKYlLTKqHzqrT6RleZyeLico4HKa2vGUH1MXNZ09jnwHIURKG0tKYoHfvVwIzZZl90vg1rK0paqOWSC8fPMkDK7kJkQ/s1600/IMG_9774.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLqGcU4M-4YiLc74-273sD2GB8_04_I-RtKz5DgbE65LOMKoVptKYlLTKqHzqrT6RleZyeLico4HKa2vGUH1MXNZ09jnwHIURKG0tKYoHfvVwIzZZl90vg1rK0paqOWSC8fPMkDK7kJkQ/s320/IMG_9774.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Although the lake was quite smaller in volume then it normally is, it was quite a beautiful sight. Walking on the floor on the lake bed was actually quite (I'm looking for an adjective here to describe the feeling and when I asked Phil how he would complete the sentence, he said) fulfilling. I guess it was an unexpected surprise, which fulfilled us. Thanks Phil. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4CfrJdkcorBcYvaM9GvyomOowOOcFcYpZ6FsS4ygJpNPt4LzGW_wkmMj2q4k8ueHXeJ7paFF_HkPAtMLDEI7ku1PFe-p0P5953K3HwTH_es_N10D2rIrWSzKx5KPIp3U8I7a5COxVLJM/s1600/IMG_9780.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4CfrJdkcorBcYvaM9GvyomOowOOcFcYpZ6FsS4ygJpNPt4LzGW_wkmMj2q4k8ueHXeJ7paFF_HkPAtMLDEI7ku1PFe-p0P5953K3HwTH_es_N10D2rIrWSzKx5KPIp3U8I7a5COxVLJM/s320/IMG_9780.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
A Halloween isn't complete with out a scary face. That's what we were going for here. Maybe those faces would scare a baby but that's probably about it. And that's all that matters. My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-64743327153615997242013-10-31T13:22:00.003-07:002013-10-31T13:23:15.644-07:00Pretty Little Things<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAWyZhB2Qtkmm4RWcSBJg_YR7if_1wywj0nMabpe6WQnJ6HLhLhyphenhyphenD73lGS4xoU0JJo8cwxTr2GZ1BEP9eck4suV6RDPvUEmhq6q2ReM-iSLgbA6PaVvPkSZZBXOSLAU97XC3bq56BYpV0/s1600/IMG_9755.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAWyZhB2Qtkmm4RWcSBJg_YR7if_1wywj0nMabpe6WQnJ6HLhLhyphenhyphenD73lGS4xoU0JJo8cwxTr2GZ1BEP9eck4suV6RDPvUEmhq6q2ReM-iSLgbA6PaVvPkSZZBXOSLAU97XC3bq56BYpV0/s320/IMG_9755.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
This is the newest pretty little thing I've made. Thanks to Jennifer, Phil's mom, who taught me how to make this style of bracelet. Or I should say, thank you Aunt Jan! Aunt Jan taught Jennifer who then taught me.<br />
<br />
I am taking my first beading class at the Venerable Bead in Bishop on November 3, I can't wait! The class is for a wrap bracelet like the one above but with leather straps and... well I don't really know for sure but I'll post a pic if it comes out nicely! <br />
<br />My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-61535037271635735202013-10-29T13:21:00.003-07:002013-10-31T13:25:02.773-07:00Phil Fishes and I...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
... take jumping pictures. They really never get old, do they? <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXhqjd6aVze6Na7dKrLlDQnwP9HnQMctYARnJRpsZEt_tvX55UNtJslSwznEwoR3l11FZ1SQ-1MASc0bNdI42fudWnAUwxBAllH5JqxAkyH05ti-G3FcOdlSWHUgstMbnQMveWeN5n1oE/s1600/IMG_9676.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXhqjd6aVze6Na7dKrLlDQnwP9HnQMctYARnJRpsZEt_tvX55UNtJslSwznEwoR3l11FZ1SQ-1MASc0bNdI42fudWnAUwxBAllH5JqxAkyH05ti-G3FcOdlSWHUgstMbnQMveWeN5n1oE/s320/IMG_9676.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Phil and I hiked up to Francis Lake on one of our last days at the resort. It was a little bit of a blessing in disguise. Phil was up there fishing a few days before and left his fishing net. I had been wanting to make the hike but just never got around to it this season. So, since we he to go up there anyway, I thought, "Hey! this will be my first and last hike up there for the season!"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG-03Q_oXz3TeQtgODdB1GyqjwoxVGdXjpVqsy-Nb74MiTpkyBe5C6_vC4iu6XX_9HBXVh5eC0ofEqegJ1fmc4V5BvpV5_u55WT7t5Be6CgutMolDhvhK65kezI4iRaivCxHmjvz9NXDo/s1600/IMG_9670.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG-03Q_oXz3TeQtgODdB1GyqjwoxVGdXjpVqsy-Nb74MiTpkyBe5C6_vC4iu6XX_9HBXVh5eC0ofEqegJ1fmc4V5BvpV5_u55WT7t5Be6CgutMolDhvhK65kezI4iRaivCxHmjvz9NXDo/s320/IMG_9670.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The hike isn't too long, it takes about an hour but its mostly uphill. When we got there I was pretty warmed up but once Phil got settled in and started fishing that morning chill began to creep up on me. I stretched, walked around a little, enjoyed the views. But then I started to get cold and my creative genius kicked in and I though, jumping pictures!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkPInZPKbJQrDqEpAleSqwN0uJFqbDTCxz1h3FklDvtJRa3uGqy18MgpjrF95Gaff15-8byKo6a3m5HP7NbmOvsIePOi0V47wpr2MgzV016Or6gtDZ3AE5gcRK0yavx4MMZm8LCUi9o3Y/s1600/IMG_9681.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkPInZPKbJQrDqEpAleSqwN0uJFqbDTCxz1h3FklDvtJRa3uGqy18MgpjrF95Gaff15-8byKo6a3m5HP7NbmOvsIePOi0V47wpr2MgzV016Or6gtDZ3AE5gcRK0yavx4MMZm8LCUi9o3Y/s320/IMG_9681.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Before long I was sweating my ass off and completely out of breath. It was great. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuPs0I87iOl9UGM-DZp0H-9ELwMpvxI4QxyN5nQ4VQah_NahUQh-KuyBxkCitLZw6NWSiHYkdPMpqt5PoM00A8SZux-oRHw1u_4x1_PM-Tfd5eKZwiRr7E2L9LHL-8zGv78zp5Jna4hK8/s1600/IMG_9682.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuPs0I87iOl9UGM-DZp0H-9ELwMpvxI4QxyN5nQ4VQah_NahUQh-KuyBxkCitLZw6NWSiHYkdPMpqt5PoM00A8SZux-oRHw1u_4x1_PM-Tfd5eKZwiRr7E2L9LHL-8zGv78zp5Jna4hK8/s320/IMG_9682.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Francis Lake proved to be yet again a very difficult lake to catch a fish in. Phil left with out a bite but it definitely WAS worth the trip. How else could I have gotten all these great pictures? We will see you again next season Francis. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Ra_SSvO6AZG12G-icDmr-qKFdxzA5img95wlmVHLJKeoO7srESjG9qENcQ_ZvZcPcNl2PVwknjHQLGPqzfvuBcUHBXxAjTZD1XUwKTDJ-rRsZxTIIpBXSxhQ471cGh2LC_HBI4AxeQs/s1600/IMG_9721.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Ra_SSvO6AZG12G-icDmr-qKFdxzA5img95wlmVHLJKeoO7srESjG9qENcQ_ZvZcPcNl2PVwknjHQLGPqzfvuBcUHBXxAjTZD1XUwKTDJ-rRsZxTIIpBXSxhQ471cGh2LC_HBI4AxeQs/s320/IMG_9721.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-82874642289437961172013-10-27T11:00:00.002-07:002013-10-31T13:24:30.552-07:00Arctic Chill<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1BRxWBrSmaxxB99ZnK7o3z3rM-hufMVpUYXSA2YvREBs6Ofcplep93FYiDVz7VX6OzQ-dSk5nd3Gt6YH0TB8xUmUJbKL8EdrNrkf1Kqd957XW-O9mZQNv06jlKwWV60_hSXpa1YTiBpo/s1600/IMG_9525.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1BRxWBrSmaxxB99ZnK7o3z3rM-hufMVpUYXSA2YvREBs6Ofcplep93FYiDVz7VX6OzQ-dSk5nd3Gt6YH0TB8xUmUJbKL8EdrNrkf1Kqd957XW-O9mZQNv06jlKwWV60_hSXpa1YTiBpo/s320/IMG_9525.JPG" /></a></div>
<blockquote>
There were strange things done in the midnight sun, by the men who moil for gold </blockquote>
<blockquote>
The arctic trails have their secret tales, that would make your blood run cold </blockquote>
<blockquote>
The northern lights have seen queer sights, but the queerest they ever did see </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Was the night on the marge of Lake Lebarge that I cremated Sam McGee</blockquote>
<br />
<blockquote>
Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and grows </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Why he left his house in the South to roam 'round the pole, God only knows...<br />
<br /></blockquote>
-Robert W. Service<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmnBBEKnBvlUkd1nXbzD2oM25se0eYehEoLfjF4bmebqxTF2ZxueHMIgfn4zlqq0Pse5oY3JyrorGdWWK8i3TX7rf-hw-4gxJdaUSh28iiQ2XqsCduQvwszSrQ9E3FMxaN59uFmNy_Tc8/s1600/IMG_9514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmnBBEKnBvlUkd1nXbzD2oM25se0eYehEoLfjF4bmebqxTF2ZxueHMIgfn4zlqq0Pse5oY3JyrorGdWWK8i3TX7rf-hw-4gxJdaUSh28iiQ2XqsCduQvwszSrQ9E3FMxaN59uFmNy_Tc8/s320/IMG_9514.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From left to right, Star Mountain, Half Moon Pass and Flat Top (aka Pointless Peak/ Mono Mesa)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I thought it would be a good brain exercise to memorize a poem. I thought, how hard could it be? and isn't it good to play memory games and such to keep your brain smart? Those six lines above were my best attempt at memorizing <i>The Cremation of Sam McGee</i>, by Robert W. Service. A poem containing fifty lines. I was just a little short but maybe I'll give it another attempt. I love the poem.<br />
<br />
<br />
The first time I heard it was on my first day of dendrology with Rocky, the tree loving fanatic, at Colorado State University. Rocky had memorized and recited the poem to the class upon his introduction. I didn't know if I loved him or if I was more concerned for what the rest of the semester was going to hold.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7RE_7rCsVAK3LZx6vTf_zgobqwOjmeB0o4oetdoYjmuzFkR937dUABEEv6IqepLkxwTX62MB8hl_Uk9VC3rcQO0OjDtroB2WTWxxNshP2S7RXDcqbBBZ6jh2WF4UvdoggZ6n8oEmS4t4/s1600/Rocky+Coleman+outside.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7RE_7rCsVAK3LZx6vTf_zgobqwOjmeB0o4oetdoYjmuzFkR937dUABEEv6IqepLkxwTX62MB8hl_Uk9VC3rcQO0OjDtroB2WTWxxNshP2S7RXDcqbBBZ6jh2WF4UvdoggZ6n8oEmS4t4/s320/Rocky+Coleman+outside.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rock Coleman, just as you may have imagined him.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Although Rocky probably would not be impressed with my meager attempt at Mr. Service's masterpiece, maybe he would be happy to know I'm still out there enjoying the outdoors and taking a few pictures to prove it.<br />
<br />
Here are some shots taken just after a nice nine inches of snow fell on Rock Creek Canyon.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheDT_qXAPsJql2D-imPlJacllP6ujkb4HOuho20qHzFWUnLNL9pf1xFFc-u3nbcoedZrdjTH1MntOOhmo_liDcGiwz63OL-m4fcreeXaqYTMAxvc1JcJ0h_tt7OiWQ2jdB8erX2CgVXqU/s1600/IMG_9507.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheDT_qXAPsJql2D-imPlJacllP6ujkb4HOuho20qHzFWUnLNL9pf1xFFc-u3nbcoedZrdjTH1MntOOhmo_liDcGiwz63OL-m4fcreeXaqYTMAxvc1JcJ0h_tt7OiWQ2jdB8erX2CgVXqU/s320/IMG_9507.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rock Creek Lake </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFWMVcWqTPUGGc0Rl9D_QjbaTbKcBtd0jNo7ehUeqcEPAcyi-WsFIjP737K-p6L5HsHyjPZwbL6lvTnWpJPdwcqSf3rMfqrFAJ6mhTMgyytwwnvL7SSWwuaFnKLJjyazu2Ge59xX9HdfY/s1600/IMG_9522.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFWMVcWqTPUGGc0Rl9D_QjbaTbKcBtd0jNo7ehUeqcEPAcyi-WsFIjP737K-p6L5HsHyjPZwbL6lvTnWpJPdwcqSf3rMfqrFAJ6mhTMgyytwwnvL7SSWwuaFnKLJjyazu2Ge59xX9HdfY/s320/IMG_9522.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peanut walking on thin ice</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOAMZ0vJyAu-c_Pe51j8gamydYsd3vgjpVQTuSiBGGoU4mRblwk2HdUdrqGKfLQRa3GQ-9a7EXfAjB0BcXM-NG3Oyy_Mi1QCHQQUXR-osoQs3Fx2dFzIUJtmAHu6DWqnBqKMIo_bkHBF0/s1600/IMG_9527.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOAMZ0vJyAu-c_Pe51j8gamydYsd3vgjpVQTuSiBGGoU4mRblwk2HdUdrqGKfLQRa3GQ-9a7EXfAjB0BcXM-NG3Oyy_Mi1QCHQQUXR-osoQs3Fx2dFzIUJtmAHu6DWqnBqKMIo_bkHBF0/s320/IMG_9527.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peanut, who I affectionately call Peanut Butter Ding Dong</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYIy6O_ML5SHPbupDGSpt-9QJn8ab9AbhHqB7lLB_TbIhjCgERBlrvGC671Iit0HZPVlUzOmGlaAGmGlz68mIMX0YdEtb2Ut07DpVyL9fcyqw4db5t_1kgGCJSWn2ZHgqN8uRIO0NUJS0/s1600/IMG_9537.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYIy6O_ML5SHPbupDGSpt-9QJn8ab9AbhHqB7lLB_TbIhjCgERBlrvGC671Iit0HZPVlUzOmGlaAGmGlz68mIMX0YdEtb2Ut07DpVyL9fcyqw4db5t_1kgGCJSWn2ZHgqN8uRIO0NUJS0/s320/IMG_9537.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phil wading in the ice water to catch a fish. He's crazy. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-65462002153479732782013-10-03T16:35:00.000-07:002013-10-31T13:29:02.102-07:00Take a HikeAlthough I have not been climbing much (ok, at ALL) since my big 25 pitches for 25 years birthday bonanza... I have been hiking. Here are a few pictures from the past 2 months. Aren't the Sierras wonderful?<br />
<br />
August 15, 2013. Phil and I explored the ghost town of Bodie. I learned not only what an innovative and bustling place Bodie was in its boom years (1877-late 1880's)but also that a ghost town is not a haunted town but just a town that has become abandon. Ha.
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVIyvn68dM1bndc0vSPN8yO_yFNjeJLCm7WUxawSTcaVlwVw3hTUfnFnDT8363LTvJ48VO6dfYiTN7sVPJSISRf0_nfarDGcyo7oF5tTLwFWWpDjP-RdgIIriqSXbmZTOqeQcH670mlUA/s1600/IMG_8911.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVIyvn68dM1bndc0vSPN8yO_yFNjeJLCm7WUxawSTcaVlwVw3hTUfnFnDT8363LTvJ48VO6dfYiTN7sVPJSISRf0_nfarDGcyo7oF5tTLwFWWpDjP-RdgIIriqSXbmZTOqeQcH670mlUA/s400/IMG_8911.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
August 23, 2013. Phil amused Senna by throwing big rocks in the water. Ok, I was amused too.
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJpOFxvmSVddDXwfjbaGr5ArnF8slaqfSC-6NSyoLc64HjXiWytFjkw-fsdc09vgzkyJ23wZIp_Qbi9XRf5yvHOb4TR-N1AypN1C6QutgsUIth4DshpGYVOpe87VAyIVhxOsipMzMgImk/s1600/IMG_9097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJpOFxvmSVddDXwfjbaGr5ArnF8slaqfSC-6NSyoLc64HjXiWytFjkw-fsdc09vgzkyJ23wZIp_Qbi9XRf5yvHOb4TR-N1AypN1C6QutgsUIth4DshpGYVOpe87VAyIVhxOsipMzMgImk/s400/IMG_9097.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
August 29, 2013. Phil takes me to Treasure Lakes. An afternoon of relaxation. AND I get to see first Golden Trout! Thanks Phil<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih0o0XAuKiHw_gWfFBeMj4mtPD24Zv9O2d9HlL_fGaYfsT5etBB51CgiLtskrB1gdJN65WLsDEdjNrBMnNnrmYSRh_EaGR19XWT89lXUPOtWLcy6bGxiT3eKhVNR80wxHyI9khhZognqI/s1600/IMG_9126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih0o0XAuKiHw_gWfFBeMj4mtPD24Zv9O2d9HlL_fGaYfsT5etBB51CgiLtskrB1gdJN65WLsDEdjNrBMnNnrmYSRh_EaGR19XWT89lXUPOtWLcy6bGxiT3eKhVNR80wxHyI9khhZognqI/s400/IMG_9126.JPG" /></a></div>
<!--3--><!--3--><br />
<br />
September 8, 2013. Another ghost town tucked in the White Mountains. Maybe this one is ACTUALLY haunted.
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS0heIErN_A2INd1MA2I2Yth72kYzdTl0W0no4GlK2bxd9kROqSepz-2XLDllspxBFvg2hEM4ytczY_oBOLW_jNIQ8FknZ40EbNj-a0djCng9qHL7lE4jwP0vnTCW19mfIiLh1pAXT3Y0/s1600/IMG_9266.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS0heIErN_A2INd1MA2I2Yth72kYzdTl0W0no4GlK2bxd9kROqSepz-2XLDllspxBFvg2hEM4ytczY_oBOLW_jNIQ8FknZ40EbNj-a0djCng9qHL7lE4jwP0vnTCW19mfIiLh1pAXT3Y0/s400/IMG_9266.jpg" /></a></div>
September 10, 2013. Amy and I striking a pose. We accompanied Phil and Steve on their search for another big fish.
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGD6tmbwf6SLcONxN-RKsXVMzqMKz1PKMlcROSipFTHfFbivuuAOukqoz9FPDOPl0rI3I2HG28WOC-8yKtl8yuz3AvQKapyZDa5USCPvx1QFW3p-9oKcEK6QQKm5RBzor4BNWXcQ7KMao/s1600/IMG_9296.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGD6tmbwf6SLcONxN-RKsXVMzqMKz1PKMlcROSipFTHfFbivuuAOukqoz9FPDOPl0rI3I2HG28WOC-8yKtl8yuz3AvQKapyZDa5USCPvx1QFW3p-9oKcEK6QQKm5RBzor4BNWXcQ7KMao/s400/IMG_9296.JPG" /></a></div>
September 14, 2013. Katie and Matt come to visit. I took them on an ass-kicking hike up halfmoon pass.
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN-Yos3-AMcp-LiUQQXUijhSfovJJE-Zc8-zC6DokWCBtkeM3EdXawq62MYWGOBUJ94288vxHKCg-nPItIIQfjrt1nZx19_pLICwIOtKiGl8AMrvlE145tYNUrTxNdIHkD_dVqfoI75K4/s1600/IMG_9342.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN-Yos3-AMcp-LiUQQXUijhSfovJJE-Zc8-zC6DokWCBtkeM3EdXawq62MYWGOBUJ94288vxHKCg-nPItIIQfjrt1nZx19_pLICwIOtKiGl8AMrvlE145tYNUrTxNdIHkD_dVqfoI75K4/s400/IMG_9342.JPG" /></a></div>
September 14, 2013. This view never gets old. Finishing our hike, coming over Mono Pass with Dade and Abbot in the background.
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglKrBaWffp4qITiufGwc-J2sLnqy5ao6yng8a3WGWyrs376PS_boMcorJGWxiSdDnDKgQhTMSEnkRHGI-76bBYrpb0wIakQB-B4FMD9IL3VTq8synFzJVDah9jeTi884nKnExinOiyE_w/s1600/IMG_9408.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglKrBaWffp4qITiufGwc-J2sLnqy5ao6yng8a3WGWyrs376PS_boMcorJGWxiSdDnDKgQhTMSEnkRHGI-76bBYrpb0wIakQB-B4FMD9IL3VTq8synFzJVDah9jeTi884nKnExinOiyE_w/s400/IMG_9408.JPG" /></a></div>
My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-83334548579998707782013-08-16T18:00:00.001-07:002013-08-16T18:00:51.058-07:0025/25 The Pitch Perfect Party<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqphGXon9y9E9xINc14_7gkXmsvLDA_S9__fbqlv7USvI4tPKX9pQ6hGQw8ScfipX35e0qcGIHok3SX6qNlg2GfB7BdXEtGgxkg_qBZbuFYSXx51rauFg7EeB5M9B5nS4YDtKXQqYigwE/s1600/IMG_4097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqphGXon9y9E9xINc14_7gkXmsvLDA_S9__fbqlv7USvI4tPKX9pQ6hGQw8ScfipX35e0qcGIHok3SX6qNlg2GfB7BdXEtGgxkg_qBZbuFYSXx51rauFg7EeB5M9B5nS4YDtKXQqYigwE/s400/IMG_4097.JPG" /></a></div>
<p>I didn’t realize until now, this very moment, when typing the title to this post, how my 25th birthday party ‘the Pitch Perfect party’ was not only a wonderful play on words, but yes, quite literally a pitch perfect party. <p>
<p>Growing up, my dad always said that you get one day to celebrate your birthday, the day that you were ACTUALLY born on. None of that birthday week or birthday weekend stuff. Birthday month?! I think some people actually do that. <p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZTsOn8JL2sAPpCZQndruFrY2zbuy3EyN8351Hjjl-5LcAL7eGNVvoS3lAq2DtqI6ul1WuHU5GbB7ClgyfnAevTLMgjyjbi7-6nwkcpUX4qL9XKohRVV_m_xEhUK8xNTE9o18AK4mxRCk/s1600/Pitch-Perfect-poster-pitch-perfect-31930127-938-638.png" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZTsOn8JL2sAPpCZQndruFrY2zbuy3EyN8351Hjjl-5LcAL7eGNVvoS3lAq2DtqI6ul1WuHU5GbB7ClgyfnAevTLMgjyjbi7-6nwkcpUX4qL9XKohRVV_m_xEhUK8xNTE9o18AK4mxRCk/s320/Pitch-Perfect-poster-pitch-perfect-31930127-938-638.png" /></a>
<p>With that being said, it WASN’T my intention to milk a birthday weekend… it just kinda happened. Tee-hee. <p>
<p>And I loved it. Every last minute. <p>
<p>My birthday was on August 5th, Monday, but the party started on Saturday. If you read the Riff-off post you will know by now that I am a Pitch Perfect fan. Ok, total fanatic. So I did some prep-work. <p>
<p>The party was to be Pitch Perfect themed. I bought the soundtrack to play in the background. I assigned each of my co-workers a character in the movie and wrote out lines that I wanted them to say throughout the night. I did say fanatic, didn’t I? So what character did I play? Well I was the director of course. But none of the guys wanted to participate in the role-playing, so I played Jesse and Benji, the two main guy roles. Amy played Fat Amy and really brought the party to life. “You call yourself ‘Fat Amy?!’ – Yeah, so twig bitches like you don’t do it behind my back.” She was probably the only person to actually read all the lines I wrote out. Thanks Fat Amy. <p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_cs0QG3o_MskOSOVwibWlH8dTmDfgu2H-PPO7MryLI_bNB1hLjc9DwpfvKHP2citkFchOhhruK67l0GJQqxHWit4yyg0FEKzyd4bo8Rcr31v6mbvjcXGSV9utu_YqROQt2xjSJ_1cv5E/s1600/IMG_4108.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_cs0QG3o_MskOSOVwibWlH8dTmDfgu2H-PPO7MryLI_bNB1hLjc9DwpfvKHP2citkFchOhhruK67l0GJQqxHWit4yyg0FEKzyd4bo8Rcr31v6mbvjcXGSV9utu_YqROQt2xjSJ_1cv5E/s400/IMG_4108.jpg" /></a></div>
Me and Fat Amy
<p>On Phil’s lunch break he started prepping for the big dinner feast, a chicken potpie to feed some 15+ people. It was delicious! Lauren (Cynthia Rose, yes because she is black) and Kristin (Aubrey) made bruschetta, however you spell that. Dayna (Stacey), whose hobbies include “cuticle care and the e-network” made the MOST delicious mixed drinks, a whiskey sour with wine poured on top, isn’t it purdy? <p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifilzKiiEovY0LINrdHJCCcTg-AHvbfIGzveQ8hyphenhyphenYB5KEw1OVn2z2poD4GRKBtTp6jcVRvt6E5pqWx82Wm_MBP6Gufp-CMnHj0iUsny4xw5nnrMxi6sj36LrissP-hDUhYE4It5cAYBZI/s1600/IMG_4087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifilzKiiEovY0LINrdHJCCcTg-AHvbfIGzveQ8hyphenhyphenYB5KEw1OVn2z2poD4GRKBtTp6jcVRvt6E5pqWx82Wm_MBP6Gufp-CMnHj0iUsny4xw5nnrMxi6sj36LrissP-hDUhYE4It5cAYBZI/s400/IMG_4087.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8CxaeEvL7eX6XQtaNRNizXtvsXckKdaXsUgDSbTpvj8Cp9yrQpHRGM6Lt0gtf8uQKlWwfwMzoJ5ndHFwkl9CkaZHe1Ep5keCurlTk3aL6rI55rkFTYXjPZNHQjr0CRzALIr_V9uSqqK8/s1600/IMG_4107.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8CxaeEvL7eX6XQtaNRNizXtvsXckKdaXsUgDSbTpvj8Cp9yrQpHRGM6Lt0gtf8uQKlWwfwMzoJ5ndHFwkl9CkaZHe1Ep5keCurlTk3aL6rI55rkFTYXjPZNHQjr0CRzALIr_V9uSqqK8/s400/IMG_4107.JPG" /></a></div>
<p>I put the movie on in the kitchen so we could all act our respective parts. Michelle did a great job of entertaining us as “Bumper,” the front man for the Treble Makers while simultaneously playing the part of the annoying Asian girl, Lily. <p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_26Iq9razAk_72Rh9ebZoHEBonZEn5EQF3TEDEjqqEoNiS5jfpgK82uGvLitybcobQdDKYa-z43oDuDdYKidh7Oc5MpkSgr__uwJNQY0fccK3tpvbYgXB0u-xE6EUbWkubZBvSfI_ezc/s1600/IMG_4091.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_26Iq9razAk_72Rh9ebZoHEBonZEn5EQF3TEDEjqqEoNiS5jfpgK82uGvLitybcobQdDKYa-z43oDuDdYKidh7Oc5MpkSgr__uwJNQY0fccK3tpvbYgXB0u-xE6EUbWkubZBvSfI_ezc/s400/IMG_4091.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizl5BL3ZKkEknUq7PNa2LWI4vd4HUvU0XC1SkF5xdzmjXWR3qrl98H70BtyuIqLXHo9v_fA2U2WaNPq85mizcCMJPIBrMTJ-j_WJ5Cs3EFI8DyT0iyLXd7m_6z86kLn-GhOp290Wjfs9s/s1600/IMG_4109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizl5BL3ZKkEknUq7PNa2LWI4vd4HUvU0XC1SkF5xdzmjXWR3qrl98H70BtyuIqLXHo9v_fA2U2WaNPq85mizcCMJPIBrMTJ-j_WJ5Cs3EFI8DyT0iyLXd7m_6z86kLn-GhOp290Wjfs9s/s400/IMG_4109.jpg" /></a></div>
<p>While dinner was cooking we drummed up a great game of wiffle ball. Amy was cracking us all up, yelling “Vertical running!” as she took off for first base. And taunting the opposing team with, “I’m going to pitch slap you so hard your man boobs concave.” And of course, it wasn’t Fat Amy’s line but, “If at first you don’t succeed, pack your bags.” I didn’t know that the Pitch Perfect themed party could be topped, but the ACTUAL pitch perfect party, held on my birthday at Clark Canyon, just may have. <p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2sI-BrF-H20xuygJ5BrARpRRj6-qpZndoKsRK6OH904KqU6ijfwto86AL7_0ADXyoWLtgwrK2kbWHcUx5BbqRYSsXaZvb4kMddiWmIIfBp_5jvygkQAQMI6Goc9mfQpxrlqJZpzM4CMQ/s1600/IMG_4115.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2sI-BrF-H20xuygJ5BrARpRRj6-qpZndoKsRK6OH904KqU6ijfwto86AL7_0ADXyoWLtgwrK2kbWHcUx5BbqRYSsXaZvb4kMddiWmIIfBp_5jvygkQAQMI6Goc9mfQpxrlqJZpzM4CMQ/s400/IMG_4115.JPG" /></a></div>
The Rock Creek Lakes Resort Crew... errr, The Pitch Perfect cast members
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuBqOVXg96PJPi6tNjwaJSeRFlr3XPpzdFBGW2HvmoIY8rAJfiLE2WjR82Gjq0lLgMviV3Fjql5bfwBDV44ubQFM4MOHtmJqF6aDat7P_gzBbd7BupPZCOYiTPx08mWdUjjyzePYLTsaY/s1600/IMG_4117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuBqOVXg96PJPi6tNjwaJSeRFlr3XPpzdFBGW2HvmoIY8rAJfiLE2WjR82Gjq0lLgMviV3Fjql5bfwBDV44ubQFM4MOHtmJqF6aDat7P_gzBbd7BupPZCOYiTPx08mWdUjjyzePYLTsaY/s400/IMG_4117.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRrUKmPBfksm9SXsJf_vY4UKMUoA59iQjxoMoNVVI0vWiOQ_uqKFkrPC1fMVmfzRGiRnSF0MyXWEI8lJKdISfZ9QN9tPZUZe5SFAmHr56Kj3pCN0sHQ9BkBQI6uvmi4qFER6r8PZtIfWQ/s1600/IMG_4120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRrUKmPBfksm9SXsJf_vY4UKMUoA59iQjxoMoNVVI0vWiOQ_uqKFkrPC1fMVmfzRGiRnSF0MyXWEI8lJKdISfZ9QN9tPZUZe5SFAmHr56Kj3pCN0sHQ9BkBQI6uvmi4qFER6r8PZtIfWQ/s400/IMG_4120.JPG" /></a></div>
<p>On Monday morning I thought to myself, I’m not 24 anymore. And what better way to celebrate then to climb 25 pitches? It was so great to have so many friends from Huntington Beach come up. Aunt Mary made it down and was the official scribe of the event. The day was a success, Kristen did her first lead climb, Kathy did her first outside climb EVER, Marissa hiked up a massive water mellow, and yes, I successfully climbed 25 pitches. Granted the average grade was 5.87 or something, it was about 15 pitches more then I have ever done before. I am proud of myself. <p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjefXT639zRDW5jWhWefdMXLNs-ybHdR1mrm2dGOZIdXL0xJRVbTRb-OyFW-OQFTPqeYPuBKHmGexb9QK48s3FepadZoJ1_FoMuy-6s-kcrMAcKtvrGEdmajkKzv57ZdYnROiCg46BEgc/s1600/IMG_4102.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjefXT639zRDW5jWhWefdMXLNs-ybHdR1mrm2dGOZIdXL0xJRVbTRb-OyFW-OQFTPqeYPuBKHmGexb9QK48s3FepadZoJ1_FoMuy-6s-kcrMAcKtvrGEdmajkKzv57ZdYnROiCg46BEgc/s400/IMG_4102.JPG" /></a></div>
<p>Thank you all for coming out to celebrate. It was really awesome, as I was climbing up the last pitch, a proud line, everyone was cheering for me and I felt like a rock goddess, a princess, a true birthday girl. Thank you for celebrating my pitch perfect party with me. <p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOa_chk1SsU6P9snnc6rzK_VAOxOIDTyDfC90TAWIZTd4HbudJiB7fn0CqSTOxeqI7QRq2gx0slbZ7IRosQktsn7vgTlZsg7PRxpWHI5Up0H5kN1Hd8C7icjA2v40RXHV9YggpWlaDciI/s1600/IMG_8756.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOa_chk1SsU6P9snnc6rzK_VAOxOIDTyDfC90TAWIZTd4HbudJiB7fn0CqSTOxeqI7QRq2gx0slbZ7IRosQktsn7vgTlZsg7PRxpWHI5Up0H5kN1Hd8C7icjA2v40RXHV9YggpWlaDciI/s400/IMG_8756.JPG" /></a></div>
Aunt Mary, Jackie, me and Phil starting the day off early
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8I3Ny7orz5uyhZXG_hAOACjDvHhn1kukJPiYZnvxiEHe3ZdRjlZ6UbbE93GhiQuQ9gGJOu5N1lUksic2NJ_5M-TcfyKnX1cIWtbdczUVTL7ohCDOPORoPVv0CHBFha0ZnrDQUXzgYZG4/s1600/IMG_8764.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8I3Ny7orz5uyhZXG_hAOACjDvHhn1kukJPiYZnvxiEHe3ZdRjlZ6UbbE93GhiQuQ9gGJOu5N1lUksic2NJ_5M-TcfyKnX1cIWtbdczUVTL7ohCDOPORoPVv0CHBFha0ZnrDQUXzgYZG4/s400/IMG_8764.JPG" /></a></div>
Pitch #8?
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3rBRHQoRLDMQQbXcMVcfqgQrL-diDQWDTy289_eY9Db9hScT16CNYu3B1hxDcvb0nzFDnd9AOE0WrP4s4BPQJdM69N-sgl4mOoXjNXHuDTFAc4JGN9Kfzvk9nXzbd5d9H6DER_X08rHM/s1600/IMG_8775.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3rBRHQoRLDMQQbXcMVcfqgQrL-diDQWDTy289_eY9Db9hScT16CNYu3B1hxDcvb0nzFDnd9AOE0WrP4s4BPQJdM69N-sgl4mOoXjNXHuDTFAc4JGN9Kfzvk9nXzbd5d9H6DER_X08rHM/s400/IMG_8775.JPG" /></a></div>
The WHOLE Clark Canyon Crew, with out them 25/25 wouldn't have happened
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSbJ7EPnCo5FaAuVm8CREmndlc1vcR_TtJoa4IiwHt3xM1r6vpaG64BiiWKWNEx28h6V3KReIIaAbhgUbWRaNE1wEyAAAxWUuIWmohRPHEpJ8WffWVgmqYychQdgkgaDdXZMo_SoU-ao/s1600/IMG_8791.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSbJ7EPnCo5FaAuVm8CREmndlc1vcR_TtJoa4IiwHt3xM1r6vpaG64BiiWKWNEx28h6V3KReIIaAbhgUbWRaNE1wEyAAAxWUuIWmohRPHEpJ8WffWVgmqYychQdgkgaDdXZMo_SoU-ao/s400/IMG_8791.JPG" /></a></div>
After a long and successful day of climbing we went into Mammoth to get some well deserved dinner. Yum.
My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-40093591129163798182013-08-08T15:23:00.000-07:002013-08-08T15:23:31.180-07:00My Sensei <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk_glT-h6ONxMP5IBz93Jx1ifl-J6Qf5c3k8TAVfFLFaAmFVzst_0G0tcSpCu-ug7fbN_47E9laXy-wLQj449_pttW2177X-jaLdsPCnXZjwtta0glzUESgfsmqPiPHywEFeKmJ9IBzT8/s1600/IMG_4022.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk_glT-h6ONxMP5IBz93Jx1ifl-J6Qf5c3k8TAVfFLFaAmFVzst_0G0tcSpCu-ug7fbN_47E9laXy-wLQj449_pttW2177X-jaLdsPCnXZjwtta0glzUESgfsmqPiPHywEFeKmJ9IBzT8/s400/IMG_4022.JPG" /></a>
It was a surprise visit from Alyssa, something I wished happened more often. Alyssa was down working in Southern California and on her way back home she was able to stop to see her favorite good ol’ dog, me.
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOujMG0Tt87yvYIIEYGZMs6gu8p-DCSagq5nYiuNV6yWc90W_Cbn9HD60FlAFP7t5mdzpVTZVnp3ol5N1t7jCjqpP20Hak6EebdaelBWi01UEwdHY8RcAxi3qvRovZXaB1K1lqeMlewiw/s1600/IMG_4030+-+Version+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOujMG0Tt87yvYIIEYGZMs6gu8p-DCSagq5nYiuNV6yWc90W_Cbn9HD60FlAFP7t5mdzpVTZVnp3ol5N1t7jCjqpP20Hak6EebdaelBWi01UEwdHY8RcAxi3qvRovZXaB1K1lqeMlewiw/s400/IMG_4030+-+Version+2.jpg" /></a>
She made an appearance at the Mammoth Chili Cook-off then was able to make a quick stop for some pancakes at the Pie in the Ski Café and a short hike up Little Lakes Valley.
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiidv5Z1rXSBmYQRetC8Ut-_wZJbYqXHT6gODH2jNFb4rq60m2U7ShFs5QbBOKqO_9BZntcxc5jdYPByOj891eTnwc3R8oJFO98KlbZPJIzqJM5wpTycPbs4ZNQy8EXL0jeMwC5IrzRcsk/s1600/IMG_4028.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiidv5Z1rXSBmYQRetC8Ut-_wZJbYqXHT6gODH2jNFb4rq60m2U7ShFs5QbBOKqO_9BZntcxc5jdYPByOj891eTnwc3R8oJFO98KlbZPJIzqJM5wpTycPbs4ZNQy8EXL0jeMwC5IrzRcsk/s400/IMG_4028.JPG" /></a>
Alyssa was the first person to take me backpacking. We road bikes to the trailhead and were on our way. I've been hooked ever since. Thanks Alyssa. Hiking around Pingree Park is something I hope to do again in the not to distant future. I still need to summit Hagues Peak!
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDuatLlY2nzfc1_I8-Qd8UoHGhUP4tVuCoqn3c-tTisl0UtQCZbI-eKXm64Aa_zWTUredV4OzAlx9keAxo1dXeNzGqlHWUF9pfX1YoGU6PbQBiVzHnC1U1XIXkx3dtCY5HVxui3HIF61I/s1600/IMG_4026.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDuatLlY2nzfc1_I8-Qd8UoHGhUP4tVuCoqn3c-tTisl0UtQCZbI-eKXm64Aa_zWTUredV4OzAlx9keAxo1dXeNzGqlHWUF9pfX1YoGU6PbQBiVzHnC1U1XIXkx3dtCY5HVxui3HIF61I/s400/IMG_4026.JPG" /></a>
I got to show Alyssa my current backyard, although the visit was short and sweet, we are already tentatively planning a little backpacking trip in October or September. Just around the corner.
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRSx7XuiOnVOOaOORnJdZ8MZEH2vPUU4Ou6rssb8pHTrc16o-yKudBzi29BUGm9QK6e5tBbAerpaPtUjCRLxyO7CGLpIzp9YD0KC4TBgyoQiJFEoKvLdEEcaNKNbhWMCqIL2wOhflrjy8/s1600/IMG_4023.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRSx7XuiOnVOOaOORnJdZ8MZEH2vPUU4Ou6rssb8pHTrc16o-yKudBzi29BUGm9QK6e5tBbAerpaPtUjCRLxyO7CGLpIzp9YD0KC4TBgyoQiJFEoKvLdEEcaNKNbhWMCqIL2wOhflrjy8/s400/IMG_4023.JPG" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcSGn8KfgutjQmFw1sU5ZU8amo7W3dB2D_ubRX_ph8aQsy941TeinCcfXBksK3lcJNoBNuHJUSS3CJKkZqFnc2uV-TcUzyhWuq_6D9Wd0k9UQNzo4acAO_VQQZKYZzhaMJZRkLMCT6vAU/s1600/IMG_4024.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcSGn8KfgutjQmFw1sU5ZU8amo7W3dB2D_ubRX_ph8aQsy941TeinCcfXBksK3lcJNoBNuHJUSS3CJKkZqFnc2uV-TcUzyhWuq_6D9Wd0k9UQNzo4acAO_VQQZKYZzhaMJZRkLMCT6vAU/s400/IMG_4024.JPG" /></a>
My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-19802209339536602642013-08-08T15:10:00.004-07:002013-08-08T15:10:59.133-07:00Welcome to the Rifffffff Off!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjViDEXyIEgeHU0ezGiyKGTgR5apbY_zbzrpcxIv6z6fvqeVRIjQp5NsNKvYoDLCjAcbIw-n9bsuwhE2vsKh6URXL_2HSpPaTl0hfm6cWCZjuJ6i-CST0Z9iWEePr3NsZFN3MPxGJ6Qw7I/s1600/IMG_4003.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjViDEXyIEgeHU0ezGiyKGTgR5apbY_zbzrpcxIv6z6fvqeVRIjQp5NsNKvYoDLCjAcbIw-n9bsuwhE2vsKh6URXL_2HSpPaTl0hfm6cWCZjuJ6i-CST0Z9iWEePr3NsZFN3MPxGJ6Qw7I/s400/IMG_4003.jpg" /></a>
<p>I’ve never been obsessed with a movie before. I DO remember REALLY liking the Little Mermaid as a little girl, but who didn’t? I still love the occasional dingle-hopper reference as much as the next person. <p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzje8oeJzMOQiIWgd1P7dzItBghr4fmMbcU3n0OXLauJstRgLC2tk1hnYn5-9M2PEdzoCIffbpF1RIT-PqeDP1ksqY3CCCblIob5entKtK8UxrVAkES4QOT3T5iRVIGzR5ByieT_UkGz4/s1600/Pitch-Perfect-poster-pitch-perfect-31930127-938-638.png" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzje8oeJzMOQiIWgd1P7dzItBghr4fmMbcU3n0OXLauJstRgLC2tk1hnYn5-9M2PEdzoCIffbpF1RIT-PqeDP1ksqY3CCCblIob5entKtK8UxrVAkES4QOT3T5iRVIGzR5ByieT_UkGz4/s400/Pitch-Perfect-poster-pitch-perfect-31930127-938-638.png" /></a>
<p>But here we go, I’ll say it: Hi, I’m Julie Aseltine and I am a Pitch Perfect addict.
Everyone altogether: Welcome, Julie. We all love romantic comedies here, especially ones that include singing. <p>
<p>Phil and I first saw Pitch Perfect at the Charter Cinema in Huntington Beach for 3$. The theater we affectionately call the 2$ theater even though the movies are actually 3$ (and don’t forget 1$ hotdogs). Pitch Perfect was so good we went back to see it a second time. So worth it. Since then, I have watched the movie a countless number of times, bought the soundtrack, looked up Youtube videos and yes, very much yes, acted it out, sang along and mimicked a myriad of lines from the film. <p>
<p>This blog post originally had nothing to do with Pitch Perfect. But when thinking of a title for the Mammoth Chili Cook-off, (what this post was GOING to be about), the a Pitch Perfect line came out, “Welcome to the rifffffffff offfffff!” Of course the line’s predecessor is “ What the HELL is a riff off?” One of Becca’s many annoyingly lovable lines. You will just have to watch the movie to find out but you can very well assume that it has to do with singing. <p>
<p>Riff-offs and Cook-off’s have nothing to do with each other, other then the fact that they both end with “off.” <p>
<p>The Mammoth Chili Cook-off, a three day event, featuring chili, ribs, chicken and crawdads, was quite a success for Rock Creek Lakes Resort and Miller & Son BBQ Brewing. We prepared for days. Steve put in a lot of work, brewing batch after batch of his BBQ sauce, prepping ribs, chicken and getting last minute details together. <p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9vv75Jhk1QtMLdyPfogo-qrCqn8WNzW7fw6UJPfYrc0_U-HoOCF5DfZ16M5vFEyU3oC9TlPFg8UMkmdKvRX0qXfwMfBPqqk3TsKvq2Rms8teQV1mNTxH0tlifOeJeZLBYqHy2weVAB38/s1600/IMG_4004.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9vv75Jhk1QtMLdyPfogo-qrCqn8WNzW7fw6UJPfYrc0_U-HoOCF5DfZ16M5vFEyU3oC9TlPFg8UMkmdKvRX0qXfwMfBPqqk3TsKvq2Rms8teQV1mNTxH0tlifOeJeZLBYqHy2weVAB38/s400/IMG_4004.JPG" /></a>
<p>I would say I didn’t work AS hard as Steve, but I put up a good fight. Here is a picture of me with all my cupcakes. I have decided “Cupcake Girl” is my superpower. I don’t know what she does exactly, but it’s sweet. Get it. <p>
<p>Tangent: In that question you hear at summer camp: what super power would you have if you could have one? My REAL answer to that would be, hands DOWN! I would have to ability to read ANYTHING at lightening speed (if I chose to) and retain every last detail. For example, imagine me holding the spine of a book with one hand, say the dictionary, and flipping the pages with the thumb of the other, smack, the covers closing on each other and I say, “Well, not the most entertaining read, but quite enlightening, so many new words to use in my day to day. Or should I say… ‘The preponderance of my lexicon has amassed quite a voluminous quota of locutions, how ever will I disseminate by ruminations with a layperson?” Ha. Oh, it would be so fun. <p>
<p>Back to the cook-off. We all had a great time. The R.C.L.R. and Miller & Son both got a lot of praise from their respective goods. Miller & Son sold quite a few bottle of BBQ sauce, and I was very happy at the number of cupcakes we sold. <p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipPEYXapHyzhH52qms-uAMYdmxlGAStOrkuqPm0KTPj_sEpdlubgtM678hTrtKJP7y7OsE3F9279sValsq5Bh9to9T6pEXrTUXdn20h-Sgi8MmdkuM9NuoqgaXJH0tBx-XwN9eldDbHK4/s1600/IMG_4010.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipPEYXapHyzhH52qms-uAMYdmxlGAStOrkuqPm0KTPj_sEpdlubgtM678hTrtKJP7y7OsE3F9279sValsq5Bh9to9T6pEXrTUXdn20h-Sgi8MmdkuM9NuoqgaXJH0tBx-XwN9eldDbHK4/s400/IMG_4010.JPG" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxhFuBfdADJos9VYVsYWSbp20C-2-vtJRvsDmuBypbdcXn7F7QxSd1MrS9t2eYeUqXHbpN3Wa-Ci31U2_Fo1fwem4zMtUfynDm6ZomjYXDp52-ABodpuo-3JFGjApQDnhh9azJqlSZmI4/s1600/IMG_4011.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxhFuBfdADJos9VYVsYWSbp20C-2-vtJRvsDmuBypbdcXn7F7QxSd1MrS9t2eYeUqXHbpN3Wa-Ci31U2_Fo1fwem4zMtUfynDm6ZomjYXDp52-ABodpuo-3JFGjApQDnhh9azJqlSZmI4/s400/IMG_4011.JPG" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKG9Zbj_CYoHJK0f-X2PTdlWH-mbPaDl_2y1-q-2y08WYPEzdJWU1OltyfaHgNra3q0WgcFBqm7Hg82NpIFqdd-qEWWy5PpEaB8SayF1iq2KWMPDibVZ45Rqmoino-L_qU_Ph1ibxlKpM/s1600/IMG_4013.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKG9Zbj_CYoHJK0f-X2PTdlWH-mbPaDl_2y1-q-2y08WYPEzdJWU1OltyfaHgNra3q0WgcFBqm7Hg82NpIFqdd-qEWWy5PpEaB8SayF1iq2KWMPDibVZ45Rqmoino-L_qU_Ph1ibxlKpM/s400/IMG_4013.JPG" /></a>
<p>It was a great night. My good friend Alyssa made an appearance. There was some underage drinking. I mixed margaritas, wine and beer for the first time and got to find out what the end result was. It was great, the next morning I apologized to Amy for what she had to walk in on, me washing my shoes in the laundry sink, still drunk and a little sad that it got on my shoes. Amy’s only response was “I don’t judge you.” What a good friend, I love that girl. <p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgGdm-wCjTRdXwbaYCZ2TsEt_vGnpSnHX6XcbigO3L7hlynAMKnrwKDZA8HCNK-l0sQMGPhT2uAHVy7dRBEGn_mle6K4YayNoZWy_57mnoBMU261WweksLU2LhKP0JTIldZ0gSyD9hKHE/s1600/IMG_4014.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgGdm-wCjTRdXwbaYCZ2TsEt_vGnpSnHX6XcbigO3L7hlynAMKnrwKDZA8HCNK-l0sQMGPhT2uAHVy7dRBEGn_mle6K4YayNoZWy_57mnoBMU261WweksLU2LhKP0JTIldZ0gSyD9hKHE/s400/IMG_4014.JPG" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5FP9KnijkPeSp8glbMlEDXM9-6rmTO7g9MioZRz7K4sBtOz3FYqqRpzGt2X2MXctoSLmIviVW4vdj0bZ4uzd_C2AT5JCmCHP6rpOCAh5XyWIz5H0rCGNXcxLqTTLgKcToBpFK97Ynqbo/s1600/IMG_4015.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5FP9KnijkPeSp8glbMlEDXM9-6rmTO7g9MioZRz7K4sBtOz3FYqqRpzGt2X2MXctoSLmIviVW4vdj0bZ4uzd_C2AT5JCmCHP6rpOCAh5XyWIz5H0rCGNXcxLqTTLgKcToBpFK97Ynqbo/s400/IMG_4015.JPG" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQcs5pMUsTTcf17XoP6VcxX89_12SDd2J2BhzTG3B2nNeh97O1OoDafhRYhld8YKawn_NnGPEttrq0ZDSsSd-xReP0Ksm_WpEcY2o2CGEsftMeHcn2MRnIE8yNBco8ikw1aPbZ8Ostzg/s1600/IMG_4018.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQcs5pMUsTTcf17XoP6VcxX89_12SDd2J2BhzTG3B2nNeh97O1OoDafhRYhld8YKawn_NnGPEttrq0ZDSsSd-xReP0Ksm_WpEcY2o2CGEsftMeHcn2MRnIE8yNBco8ikw1aPbZ8Ostzg/s400/IMG_4018.JPG" /></a>
<p>So if I had to choose between the riff-off and the cook-off, oooooh, I don’t know. I guess since the riff-off is just a scene in a movie and not real life, I’ll go with the cook-off, I puked on my shoes, BUT Alyssa was there, AND I got to eat ribs. BUT what would the dictionary reading, cupcake girl choose? She would say the riff-off, hands DOWN! <p>
My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-50591942510091889402013-08-08T14:54:00.001-07:002013-08-08T14:54:36.681-07:00Clarks Canyon
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWPL0aFQ4fTXWhSxVNVmPDGzTmGWkEGdLvJ62q993GND3PXP4DeUIqgMGIQvXAdF54HS4CUuK_mecouoDHw9HUbLCuUytGEb_uLMFA6lSpVZJA2NfW_R2wKUhhmukfqFCf9Ei3Zlv5fSI/s1600/IMG_3764.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWPL0aFQ4fTXWhSxVNVmPDGzTmGWkEGdLvJ62q993GND3PXP4DeUIqgMGIQvXAdF54HS4CUuK_mecouoDHw9HUbLCuUytGEb_uLMFA6lSpVZJA2NfW_R2wKUhhmukfqFCf9Ei3Zlv5fSI/s400/IMG_3764.JPG" /></a>
<p>25/25 is just around the corner! I decided for my 25th birthday I would attempt to climb 25 pitches. An audacious goal to say the least. <p>
<p>How is the training going? . I thought I would diligently train, doing pull-ups, crunches, running, Jillian Michaels’ work-outs… well, that was pretty much non-existent.<p>
<p>I thought I would cut out pancakes until my birthday… That lasted about one month. I will say, it DID last one month longer then I thought.<p>
<p>I DID do one JM work out, the thirty minute shred, and it ruined me for almost three whole days. Ha. I do pull-up’s here and there. So as you can see, using the word ‘training’ would be a far cry from what some people would consider it. <p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPytFGXx7-iUhJYSsK9H7Y4P0dYDVswtLcNw5mYwDlrIvE9upJzOLcTiVlqzBuj_2wt-dWKOXo4cNgrJeGKH20qs5zg0UtNKzXrmWbcsNmEgHDLgk960sdA6NzdNLZFFTGTZShiRY3cGw/s1600/IMG_3765.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPytFGXx7-iUhJYSsK9H7Y4P0dYDVswtLcNw5mYwDlrIvE9upJzOLcTiVlqzBuj_2wt-dWKOXo4cNgrJeGKH20qs5zg0UtNKzXrmWbcsNmEgHDLgk960sdA6NzdNLZFFTGTZShiRY3cGw/s400/IMG_3765.JPG" /></a>
<p>I will, with out a doubt, climb 25 pitches. The most I have done in one day has been 10-12, the 12 may be debatable, (Fairview Dome with Maureen), but regardless, it will happen. It may seem that I set goals and don’t stick to them (see pancake reference above), although, the ones that count, I do. <p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEHRRxTa8JNgD-EacDD64QB7yUwLJnMo_j-UUCP1-b2RdZaOPpLzDr5REvCjTdXNNRz3dFzUzVBvsoC4gn7KKVUy-fh2jWDEtzw2BmhE6WaBhX8iJjfb0j0X3j6tA2V3oN9Zm27IHwdx0/s1600/IMG_3767.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEHRRxTa8JNgD-EacDD64QB7yUwLJnMo_j-UUCP1-b2RdZaOPpLzDr5REvCjTdXNNRz3dFzUzVBvsoC4gn7KKVUy-fh2jWDEtzw2BmhE6WaBhX8iJjfb0j0X3j6tA2V3oN9Zm27IHwdx0/s400/IMG_3767.jpg" /></a>
<p>This sort of thing doesn’t happen all that often for me, but when I wanted to do a triathlon three years ago, I did it. And not just that, I rocked it. Same training situation also. Never ran more then 3 miles, it was a 5 mile run. Never swam more then, what I would consider ‘flapping around,’ you may have guessed that this was my weakest event. But what I’m getting at here is, by sheer adrenaline, I feel I can make something big happen. And that is what is going to happen August 5th. <p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrwBKjFcFdNAM45ThLWDmBROkxUVfCoRIxX9KdCBUi32SVRhJnKhVWo6tdt5jgZf-TqAuwvpqRDh8KeqE-cVtjldUETb6taGjO1h8zkq0aP5MFPYuGflx0bf3HlFCS_WqgejLhulvctqU/s1600/IMG_3746.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrwBKjFcFdNAM45ThLWDmBROkxUVfCoRIxX9KdCBUi32SVRhJnKhVWo6tdt5jgZf-TqAuwvpqRDh8KeqE-cVtjldUETb6taGjO1h8zkq0aP5MFPYuGflx0bf3HlFCS_WqgejLhulvctqU/s400/IMG_3746.JPG" /></a>
<p>Phil and I thought it would be a good idea to go out there and check out the climbing before the day of. So here are a few photos from our trip out. <p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdeyA4AANoqAXjm8drfnXYCej-m1vLCuZwzsqzsvilBhuCNKWoh5vYJ_MjoQ4fkNPKE83L3BYSAXPGPz4OCPjw8jp4BZbX1KBzQVzL91YOD1sNrJb9H6yS9m2joQjfQkIBM-vG97JUAo8/s1600/IMG_3756.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdeyA4AANoqAXjm8drfnXYCej-m1vLCuZwzsqzsvilBhuCNKWoh5vYJ_MjoQ4fkNPKE83L3BYSAXPGPz4OCPjw8jp4BZbX1KBzQVzL91YOD1sNrJb9H6yS9m2joQjfQkIBM-vG97JUAo8/s400/IMG_3756.jpg" /></a>
<p>It took me awhile to crawl out of the tent, but I made it! Thanks for the coffee Phil. The photo is taken in Phil’s French press, one of his many mediums. <p>
<p>Beautiful views, huh? <p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOo8E-JMgTfHyiTMp-pH0k0aisHrAIXgGYYwrFx5LAer4nsl_YoEVQLPjpVfCE3BPqPympaD6ID31HFoJgwPsr-0_0QNzFg1r-r3gDqMkVCvohVgZ9SDPaUvt5d2P02INitd7im274HjY/s1600/IMG_3766.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOo8E-JMgTfHyiTMp-pH0k0aisHrAIXgGYYwrFx5LAer4nsl_YoEVQLPjpVfCE3BPqPympaD6ID31HFoJgwPsr-0_0QNzFg1r-r3gDqMkVCvohVgZ9SDPaUvt5d2P02INitd7im274HjY/s400/IMG_3766.JPG" /></a>
<p>So here we come 25/25. Lets do this. <p>
My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3373087758938015555.post-4701628560965439232013-08-08T14:52:00.000-07:002013-08-08T14:52:00.897-07:00Buyers Remorse
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9tjYDYQJXnelz1xt89h04kCJHY5ttyOBwBJn0z4MNbeuFPQjPdvpGh7wleL7dK5zTJtTezecY0ChSw6mwb3Pw4ColzS8JM_p9n9PaNyn-s28yqXKspCM1fXOxO0fA3nNYGZB9nBnmjs8/s1600/IMG_3983.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9tjYDYQJXnelz1xt89h04kCJHY5ttyOBwBJn0z4MNbeuFPQjPdvpGh7wleL7dK5zTJtTezecY0ChSw6mwb3Pw4ColzS8JM_p9n9PaNyn-s28yqXKspCM1fXOxO0fA3nNYGZB9nBnmjs8/s400/IMG_3983.JPG" /></a>
<p>The first time I heard this term was a couple years ago when I bought my iPod touch. I spent a couple hundred on the device and another eighty something on insurance. That was a pretty big chunk of change for me. Instantly when I walked out of the Apple store at South Coast Plaza I thought to myself, “What have I DONE?” <p>
<p>This thought was further etched in stone when I got home and told my dad. Now, trying to get my dad to spend money is like trying to get blood from a turnip, so I was preaching to the choir here. I believe his only comment was “Ahhh, buyers remorse.” Well, I still have that iPod and it has served me quite well in the years since. Not a bad investment although I should have waited another six or so months for the one with the camera. Oh well. <p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijZ3sUL3lae_Hs_nU0Cb8INyanQENhyOihzntCtPfOxo2PhyphenhyphenHdm4uJt3kGF-41M-PEfyeAS9BtEQIXy4mWwBnRHaowXALCYFc4W53fe6RHNRyfMuxr6YKfNbFrY0Rn9HCbLZg8NIy8joM/s1600/IMG_3799.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijZ3sUL3lae_Hs_nU0Cb8INyanQENhyOihzntCtPfOxo2PhyphenhyphenHdm4uJt3kGF-41M-PEfyeAS9BtEQIXy4mWwBnRHaowXALCYFc4W53fe6RHNRyfMuxr6YKfNbFrY0Rn9HCbLZg8NIy8joM/s400/IMG_3799.JPG" /></a>
<p>So, talk about buyers remorse. That story doesn’t hold a candle to this one. Most of you know (assuming my dad isn’t the ONLY person who reads this) that I work at Rock Creek Lakes Resort. One of the perks of working here is we get a discount on gear. So this past month I may have splurged a tinsey-weenie bit. <p>
<p>This was my logic: First, I wanted to replace my compass that was stolen out of Phil’s truck, second, what would compliment a compass more then a GPS unit?! I have always wanted a GPS so I bought the eTrex 20 by Garmin.<p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJe73cmfffkuV2luUuRW_wL8KqBCnGUoriIiBKFcY4Im5jQwPg43jcLF6OpVvQnKSH0D8EV92uxMs8PlBJNNbsSQLyEDgYvcIdtTtEgB35Di88O1ivIWwwXrZloP5hSpjf9cP7Ez-Cqng/s1600/IMG_3868.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJe73cmfffkuV2luUuRW_wL8KqBCnGUoriIiBKFcY4Im5jQwPg43jcLF6OpVvQnKSH0D8EV92uxMs8PlBJNNbsSQLyEDgYvcIdtTtEgB35Di88O1ivIWwwXrZloP5hSpjf9cP7Ez-Cqng/s400/IMG_3868.JPG" /></a>
<p>Here is the GPS tangent. I guess I was naive to think I could just turn the device on and low-n-be-hold, there’s all the maps, right? Wrong. I took it up to Patricia Bowl for its maiden voyage and was wondering “Why are there no topo lines on here? It’s a blank screen. Something is definitely wrong.” I went onto Garmin’s website to find out that OH! You have to BUY the maps you want. DUH! So there goes another hundred out the window. I go to upload it to the device and sayyyy whaaaa? It doesn’t fit? OH! You have to BUY a separate micro SD card to hold all that information! Why didn’t I think of that! <p>
<p>Aside from buying the device, you have to spend a small fortune just to get the thing to work. Granted, now I have a 1:24,000 scale map of ALL of California and Nevada, and I am very happy. It just took me three trips into Bishop and a headache. <p>
<p>It doesn’t stop there. I’m back from my tangent. While flipping through the Liberty catalogue you can guarantee that just about anyone will find something pointless that they need to buy. Damn good advertisement. Haha. Not, Damn-good advertisement! But, Dammmn that good advertisement! So what did I find next, the Bonnie & Clyde double sleeping bag. Awwwww. And it even says Bonnie on one side and Clyde on the other. A must have. Better get two camping pillows to go along with it right? And although that is the end of MY shopping spree, setting me back a pretty penny, Phil embarked on his own purchasing journey. “The nicest rod and reel” he says he will ever own. An investment he has been wanting to make for quite awhile. <p>
<p>So we needed to test out our new gear. We decided to hike into Hilton #2 at 8 p.m. What were we thinking? We beat the heat, but I don’t know if we will do that again. <p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCe2oWTTq5XxLMODvZlgtG0BbfxCqvZWxQWD-zJTlyomY8-K5iuUS1a5rY03pciIj1KJ7kTZo3pQV1_z3s1aNEbjhMX8Fj6TZYFoWg8u1QPveaDzSF8j1uFIALIwjW_eQO1F-ZaVoZcns/s1600/IMG_3810.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCe2oWTTq5XxLMODvZlgtG0BbfxCqvZWxQWD-zJTlyomY8-K5iuUS1a5rY03pciIj1KJ7kTZo3pQV1_z3s1aNEbjhMX8Fj6TZYFoWg8u1QPveaDzSF8j1uFIALIwjW_eQO1F-ZaVoZcns/s400/IMG_3810.JPG" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2QXPgdAzxhVoWzaeC0EW_BopOR7A65LbLkf8ANdctH7AHNkMdJ11LOVc0UzE6rHfTOqxvOJouyoLvt_OlvW5NkuujECDQMHokhOe56i6l6nzF-QbAC8MHNo9gnOOlzyoYi4wAtFD7FO8/s1600/IMG_3847.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2QXPgdAzxhVoWzaeC0EW_BopOR7A65LbLkf8ANdctH7AHNkMdJ11LOVc0UzE6rHfTOqxvOJouyoLvt_OlvW5NkuujECDQMHokhOe56i6l6nzF-QbAC8MHNo9gnOOlzyoYi4wAtFD7FO8/s400/IMG_3847.JPG" /></a>
<p>Here Phil is getting his set-up put together. He had hopes of catching a big brown trout that night… but now we have another reason to go back. We were both ready to crawl into the tent but decided to fish a little and I took a few really cool long exposure pictures anyway. <p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMMi2J6AUXiwzmme338ossTAmur_vtNwlcSk2-JTNXLvVAzvvXZRc_lLLBIPhLRu4Pj9JL_lJewMQz2yXozarnV_KLTpFtK26-T7E4dgkCltbEwbY2S8u_0msWaBclWiflyEhh0E90Df0/s1600/IMG_3862.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMMi2J6AUXiwzmme338ossTAmur_vtNwlcSk2-JTNXLvVAzvvXZRc_lLLBIPhLRu4Pj9JL_lJewMQz2yXozarnV_KLTpFtK26-T7E4dgkCltbEwbY2S8u_0msWaBclWiflyEhh0E90Df0/s400/IMG_3862.JPG" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Zr9g1XboyACIQUjFhQGCKq0eL-EbJkaJwzdt-V15FaYFGtxtSTW97O8oTAuS90v0OT1o0SJcRJXerRCfMl1oidt7_1EpHgbxA1RkFMRAfr6xsdtwZoZpvKcbsaMOu8VHtzcPNeJuafw/s1600/IMG_3875.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Zr9g1XboyACIQUjFhQGCKq0eL-EbJkaJwzdt-V15FaYFGtxtSTW97O8oTAuS90v0OT1o0SJcRJXerRCfMl1oidt7_1EpHgbxA1RkFMRAfr6xsdtwZoZpvKcbsaMOu8VHtzcPNeJuafw/s400/IMG_3875.JPG" /></a>
<p>The next morning, here I am trying to show off my muscles and take down the tent at the same time. Phil flatters me. Then we headed to the secret brown trout spot. Phil has to throw a few casts along the way. And hey! He even catches one, not surprising. <p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHAyuykJDC8bbguv3NfrrJVN2hO_QyoKEZnwgT9AbMyLYpL5EoBf9JodFJ1UnXWHjgLFYhPSHs5xQb1ABR8OC7fDdJSNH2A5HnqxGpKFUKlyUkIA79zKGKjDTSRQi1TOot11SnoCAo5j0/s1600/IMG_3879.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHAyuykJDC8bbguv3NfrrJVN2hO_QyoKEZnwgT9AbMyLYpL5EoBf9JodFJ1UnXWHjgLFYhPSHs5xQb1ABR8OC7fDdJSNH2A5HnqxGpKFUKlyUkIA79zKGKjDTSRQi1TOot11SnoCAo5j0/s400/IMG_3879.JPG" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjE46-lWEAyXlQ3F0wwnbHzis2OEXTmDdzDW076Epo4uKbhMgT4yBFnYR7NSbV8m2qrbr757X8XFudQRI4gy5XHE1hD49XR7YPkQ43UDRJozk6dhars0FheW4lInvmot1zJLa7dVsY6pU/s1600/IMG_3887.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjE46-lWEAyXlQ3F0wwnbHzis2OEXTmDdzDW076Epo4uKbhMgT4yBFnYR7NSbV8m2qrbr757X8XFudQRI4gy5XHE1hD49XR7YPkQ43UDRJozk6dhars0FheW4lInvmot1zJLa7dVsY6pU/s400/IMG_3887.JPG" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0pFP1xzM7lqvKXggyWlQ-8E9hdZ5bTqvDv_nvpFaaRNkTZPwzzdqDmKm0_hx2_Jq6IS2OvUdHvtFWvvJFtnQuJVDidFqsoum4YzaMpEmMeqixzk3G-punS1LwEsSwqirCTywVdRTjnU8/s1600/IMG_3889.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0pFP1xzM7lqvKXggyWlQ-8E9hdZ5bTqvDv_nvpFaaRNkTZPwzzdqDmKm0_hx2_Jq6IS2OvUdHvtFWvvJFtnQuJVDidFqsoum4YzaMpEmMeqixzk3G-punS1LwEsSwqirCTywVdRTjnU8/s400/IMG_3889.JPG" /></a>
<p>I love Hilton lakes. Phil fishes and I just lounge around looking really really good. I WAS partly productive however. I finished making a few pairs of earrings, went for a dip, and took pictures of my handsome guy doing his thaang, fish. <p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLZprUDqDk5of7-q2fCUrWHLekIDuPIbawEStTDd2nBHNes0-Uh5NKCaZF7JtbWe1CO25OzBqc-1puMomtzT7gygdKZYNBsBsABPNlXObbRhjuuZZjw4La6BQb4dj7UFWP8_TkrpfnNCY/s1600/IMG_3932.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLZprUDqDk5of7-q2fCUrWHLekIDuPIbawEStTDd2nBHNes0-Uh5NKCaZF7JtbWe1CO25OzBqc-1puMomtzT7gygdKZYNBsBsABPNlXObbRhjuuZZjw4La6BQb4dj7UFWP8_TkrpfnNCY/s400/IMG_3932.jpg" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXPG3UkYdwh7yUvzSasB-sduMOKFB5RC0HXFwHljk727_iZUYDFtrhOfruE8WFIpzEA424BmHM1rFtg6W003V8_-s-BAezDr1r4jEhMrlrFte596ANpuIuHX2CLzdd26tzWWUVOV1jpn4/s1600/IMG_3935.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXPG3UkYdwh7yUvzSasB-sduMOKFB5RC0HXFwHljk727_iZUYDFtrhOfruE8WFIpzEA424BmHM1rFtg6W003V8_-s-BAezDr1r4jEhMrlrFte596ANpuIuHX2CLzdd26tzWWUVOV1jpn4/s400/IMG_3935.JPG" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsB6OoN0fUum-gGoBNf_bRlTEvN5KsybuJ4mcTFFnV_AIqjlc7jnPprP5zi1n4hbxb7uuLfwxNJDnb07GlRNiahtDfeADQZrhSMWJwiiptvA3_Gt_o_B8KSYFKRVG3hAmX5jdtH9FFqnk/s1600/IMG_3943.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsB6OoN0fUum-gGoBNf_bRlTEvN5KsybuJ4mcTFFnV_AIqjlc7jnPprP5zi1n4hbxb7uuLfwxNJDnb07GlRNiahtDfeADQZrhSMWJwiiptvA3_Gt_o_B8KSYFKRVG3hAmX5jdtH9FFqnk/s400/IMG_3943.JPG" /></a>
<p>Here is a photo of my favorite pair of earring I’ve made. One of my first pairs.<p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI95KOGgJOGTPGdGK4hXsSYx4rW0MZCWVU-lk1XjmtkAPAK1SKV91tkqn8-2g10JY4LUKzsCscObmCzAsFgu0k3-AJO6yIvsZftusmH7NKnimdGzOqxFflAhhOV3Lk7L1FXdpp3mxpib4/s1600/IMG_3973.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI95KOGgJOGTPGdGK4hXsSYx4rW0MZCWVU-lk1XjmtkAPAK1SKV91tkqn8-2g10JY4LUKzsCscObmCzAsFgu0k3-AJO6yIvsZftusmH7NKnimdGzOqxFflAhhOV3Lk7L1FXdpp3mxpib4/s400/IMG_3973.JPG" /></a>
<p>It was a long slow hike out, but not with out a beautiful view. We may have had a case of buyers remorse, but I’m sure, even more then the iPod, that these were all items that were well worth the purchase. <p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc4MNj6FR0b1HEN1WmGxQN8c40StH_fhyphenhyphen3Lfqj8n16Yjv7uVOjtrihMEZUS7Jo3kuKUwSy975XOCNT7Tiiu-bNjusEXfwg2EZunbUNwFU7ZrqIJv7gSvaspmWtfz-eRVv_xOfkcWzz_P0/s1600/IMG_3968.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc4MNj6FR0b1HEN1WmGxQN8c40StH_fhyphenhyphen3Lfqj8n16Yjv7uVOjtrihMEZUS7Jo3kuKUwSy975XOCNT7Tiiu-bNjusEXfwg2EZunbUNwFU7ZrqIJv7gSvaspmWtfz-eRVv_xOfkcWzz_P0/s400/IMG_3968.jpg" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4psP0HShcoxp8T5ZwA0EkZCr1AAWPtVpJh2Zh2fyaJ-24j6F7Qc_HFZxgkMW2lJff2Et5uJwFF-V6yxoLC3IJwp5FC_quLa7GbmE_GW2wd1HgDEm4FRZyNj9sUDGf8iUKrmd9f1Ue6io/s1600/IMG_3977.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4psP0HShcoxp8T5ZwA0EkZCr1AAWPtVpJh2Zh2fyaJ-24j6F7Qc_HFZxgkMW2lJff2Et5uJwFF-V6yxoLC3IJwp5FC_quLa7GbmE_GW2wd1HgDEm4FRZyNj9sUDGf8iUKrmd9f1Ue6io/s400/IMG_3977.JPG" /></a>
My Velvet Bumperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00589335034450071449noreply@blogger.com0