An Outdoor Life

Update 2012 Race Schedule

2012-01-22T13:38:00.000-07:00

2012-01-18T22:03:00.001-07:00

I am reading A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway. While I’ve never been a fan of Hemingway I love reading him now. I think I read his fiction in high school but I don’t remember his books.

Since watching Midnight in Paris I want to read about Hemingway and the Fitzgeralds, and their time in Paris.

Thus, I am reading A Moveable Feast - a book about his time in Paris in the 20s. I really like his tales of writing in cafes and walking the streets of Paris. He tells readers at the beginning of the book that he doesn't remember everything exactly (he's writing this towards the end of his life) and there is a chance there is some fiction in it.

He admits he is still learning the writing craft.

He writes,

"All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.”

And

“I knew too that I must write a novel. I would put it off though until I could not help doing it."

and
"What did I know best that I had not written about and lost?
What did I know about truly and care for the most? There was no choice at all.”

I’m going to read The Sun Also Rises next.

Ironman, Life, and Getting Your Ego Checked at the door

2012-01-09T22:54:00.000-07:00

I love this article about finishing an Ironman.

Out There: Getting My Ego Checked

My experience was a bit different after finishing Ironman. After my first race, I was in a fog after finishing. I only wore my finisher medal until I got back to my hotel room, and took it off to shower. I never wore it again. I actually don’t even know where it is now. I didn’t wear the medal after my second finish either. It’s not about the medal.

I didn’t feel particularly special when I finished Ironman Coeur d'Alene because like the TSA agent said in Lacke’s story, thousands finished the race.

Ironman isn’t my identity. My identity comes from my family and my friends. I’d rather be identified as a writer, sister, daughter, athlete.

I love Lacke’s story because while being a triathlete makes me fit, it also introduces me to so many new people, every day. I think it’s this way for many of us.

Yes, I want to do more Ironman triathlons because it gives me purpose and a direction to my life; and it makes me fit. Yes, it’s a conversation piece and I have the stickers on my car.

But primarily, I like the conversations it creates because I have finished an Ironman. I like telling stories about Ironman and love hearing stories about my friend's first 70.3. I love seeing the fire in their eyes about a future event; and I want to see the doubt disappear when we talk about long course racing.

I love talking about motivation and inspiration, and learn what drives people to do the things they do whether it is Ironman, CrossFit, a 100 mile run, or a sprint distance triathlon.

I firmly believe, it's about the people you meet along the way.

I like how Lanke ends her article,

"Don’t get me wrong—I still relish in the accomplishments that come with running and triathlon. And when I spot others like me out and about, we exchange knowing glances. (Endurance athletes can spot each other easily. Maybe it’s the fierce look in their eyes. OK, it’s probably their calves.) Either way, that brief smile and nod says it all: You’re an Ironman. You stud, you."

Welcome 2012, It will be a good year

2012-01-04T19:43:00.000-07:00

Just got back from my last of the evening walk with the dogs. The moon was shining on the snowy slope and reflected the chairlift on the ground. This reflection made me think that this is where I have always dreamed of living. Maybe not this particular place, but this type of place. This type of place is on a ski mountain. This type of place is where I can walk out my door to hiking, skiing, trails, running, and mountain biking. I thought of the For Sale sign in my window and what I would do if it actually did sell. Where would I go and what would I do?

I love the possibilities of it all. I love the possibility of being a triathlon coach. I love the possibility of qualifying for Kona. I love the possibilities of all the things I want in life.

Tonight I think of all of this while living, in what tonight was, a dream-like place with the moon inducing a reflection in the snow of a chairlift.

I needed this walk tonight to remind me of what is important and to keep me focused on the future; and the present moment - both equally important. I believe that all the events that have happened to me have brought me to this present moment. And, just early today I was reading, Rainer Maria Rilke’s book, Letters to a Young Poet and read, “Be patient that is unresolved in your heart, try to love the questions themselves.” I’ve read this passage before, but never in the context of a letter. He is writing to Herr Kappus and he discusses solitude, “Your solitude will be your home and haven even in the midst of very strange conditions and from there you will discover all your paths.”

Happy New Year.

Top 10 Adventures in 2011

2011-12-28T21:11:00.002-07:00

Everyone is doing their top 10 lists so I thought I'd join the fray.
Here's my list of my Top 10 Adventures from 2011

1. Chilly Cheeks Duathlon in the snow and wind with Kim and Karen.

2. Travelling to South Dakota with Sue and visiting Rory, Mount Rushmore, and the Badlands

3. Going to Washington DC for a writing conference and seeing favorite writers such as David Gessner, Pam Houston, and Bob Cowser.

4. Hanging out with Than and Mark in Coeur d’Alene

5. All the road bike rides in Grand County with George and Kim in every temperature and every weather event.

6. Mountain biking on snow packed roads with Karen.

7. Isle of Shoals trip with my family in New Hampshire

8. Riding my bike for the number 1 racer to follow in Granby’s first Half Marathon

9. Taking a Hunter Education class and now I am able to hunt (if I want to)

10. Living every day in the mountains of Colorado is always an adventure.

Mountain Biking in Winter

2011-12-25T13:37:00.002-07:00

My new favorite cross training sport is mountain biking on snow covered roads. I may not have tried biking in the cold if it wasn't for a party conversation with my friend Anne who told me about her mountain biking adventure on Cty Rd 73 in Fraser on a cold fall morning. She wore her ski pants and ski gloves to stay warm. I was inspired, but I also knew I was going to have to get used to the cold since I signed up for Chilly Cheeks duathlon in Denver. The race series consists of three races: bike and run, run and bike and run, lastly, run and bike and run and bike.

I started riding my mountain bike up the dirt road near my house that goes through a residential area and tops of almost near the top of East Mountain. It was all uphill, and hard.

Today my training plans states: 60 minute bike ride. Since this ride only takes 20 minutes from my house to the top I needed to get creative. So, I exploreed different dirt roads covered with snow. One new area I found had car tracks leading to the top. I started up it and had to stay in the tracks or I would slide. It was great technique-practice; I had to keep my eyes forward so I wouldn’t ride out of the tracks and wipe out. It was like riding single track - staying focused ahead of the trail instead of staring at the ground under my feet.

Riding snowpacked roads also allows me to practice balance.

It was a great 60 minute ride in the sun, but cold. I got my ride in and can chill out the rest of the day.

Merry Christmas

How to Get in the Holiday Spirit

2011-11-27T16:33:00.002-07:00

In case you are trying to get in the holiday spirit, here are some ways that I am working on:

Shop early
Don't skip workouts.
Wish people that you meet a happy holiday with a smile.
Drop spare coins in the Salvation Army collection buckets.
Do something nice for someone.
Volunteer your time to a worthy holiday cause.
Organize a drive at work to collect food and personal items and donate them
Don't skip workouts.
Play Christmas music.
Watch "It's a Wonderful Life"
Think about what you'd like Christmas to mean and how you can work towards that goal.
Be Inspired by Traditions.
Don't skip workouts.
Bake cookies and cupcakes
Make a new tradition
Make a Christmas CD
Throw a holiday party.
Don't skip workouts.
Go see a Christmas play

“I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round, as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys.” ~Charles Dickens

“I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year.” ~Charles Dickens

2012 Racing Schedule

2011-10-31T18:42:00.005-06:00

12/3/11           Chilly Cheeks Duathlon
1/21/12           Chilly Cheeks Duathlon
2/25/12           Chilly Cheeks Duathlon
3/13/12           MoabHalf Marathon
6/9/12             Boise 70.3 Ironman
7/9/12             Granby Half Marathon
7/28/12           FortCollins Full Distance Triathlon
8/19/12           Timberman 70.3 Ironman
9/22/12           Redman Full Distance Triathlon

Vasquez Pass Trail in October 2011

2011-10-20T20:15:00.000-06:00

My adopted trail needs some maintenance. I recruite my friend Rosie to come out with me to Vasquez Pass Trail on Sunday.

The Plan: mountain bike from Vasquez Creek Rd to the Wilderness Boundary. Hike to the top from there.

Reality: there is snow on the ground at 10,000 feet.

We walk a mile or so in and realize we aren’t prepared for snow. Daisy didn’t seem to mind it.

It was good to get out there. I didn’t hike the trail all summer; it’s been a wacky summer.

The log bridge needs to be replaced. There are some trees down.

It was fun to mountain bike and hike with Rosie and Daisy-dog.

Here are some photos.

Walking With Wallace Stegner - Grandmother Letters

2011-10-15T16:51:00.001-06:00

I just got back from a late afternoon walk on the trails near my house with the dogs. I downloaded the audio book, Angle of Repose and started listening to it on this walk. The narrator begins the story telling us about his grandmother, an illustrator who moves west with her engineer husband. The narrator finds his grandmother's letters from the mining camps across the west she lived in.

I’m thinking about my grandmother who died yesterday, she was 98. I have the letters she kept from her husband while travelling across the US working for the Pennsylvania railroad. All these events remind me to get working on the story I started last year that include excerpts from my grandmother's letters.

Walking on trails, Learning about The West, Travelling Around the Country.

Themes in my life lately.

I want to spend my time learning about The West and the place I now call home. Yet there is work to do, and I must get back to it.

I love every story Wallage Stegner has written and remember his quote about being a westerner, “It should not be denied... that being footloose has always exhilarated us. It is associated in our minds with escape from history and oppression and law and irksome obligations, with absolute freedom, and the road has always led West.”

I want to finish listening to Angle of Repose but I’m distracted by a movie I want to watch about Leo Tolstoy.

Opening quote to the movie, The Last Station about the end of Tolstoy’s life and what he believed in. “Everything that I know … I know only because I love.” Leo Tolstoy – War and Peace

Back to My Travelling Roots; Mount Rushmore

2011-10-08T22:00:00.006-06:00

Since I moved to Colorado, I haven’t explored outside the county or even travelled much to other states except for triathlon races. I have the travel bug and need to set out on the open road.

See, I used to be that girl that would get in her car and drive north with no itinerary. I’d go to the mountains, visit relatives. I travelled with friends, met up with friends, or just alone. I’m going back to my roots and need to see everything.

I look at a map and see that Mount Rushmore is a 7 hour drive from Granby. I need to see it - pronto. My friend Sue is from South Dakota, and her cousin Rory lives in Pierre. I make a few phone calls, and Sue and I light out for Dakota.

I have never stepped foot in South Dakota, however when I was in my 20s I read everything about the Pine Ridge Reservation and Lakotas. I read books about Indian land claims. I read about Crazy Horse.

We leave at 5am on Tuesday morning. What I love about the drive through the southeast corner of Wyoming and into South Dakota is the contrast of grassland against green trees. I love trees. I love looking at trees. I’m so bored of the Grand County trees. I love the sparse landscape and the Ponderosa Pines. I imagine a scene in Dancing With Wolves happening right now. I imagine what it must have felt to be a pioneer seeing the country for the first time.

Road trips are all about the time spent talking about your life, telling stories, talking about your feelings. After four hours I conclude - I don’t like sentences that end with “I think”, “probably”, “Maybe”. Sue says that when people say these words "they are telling you that what they are saying may not be the gospel truth.”

I need absolutes.

We also decide that what happens in South Dakota, stays in South Dakota. However, I’m still blogging about it.

Sue is okay with this.

Sue tells the story about driving in these parts and sliding into a ditch. There was bad weather and she hydroplaned into a ditch, “Some farmers saw the entire thing and came to help me out. Everyone has a good ditch story.”

True. I have one, too. Mine takes place in Rye, New Hampshire. That is a tale for another time, right Nathan?

For some reason, I think of the song, Home on the Range and we belt out a few verses.
We pass through Hot Springs and Sue says she wants to retire, “Where the Mammoth came to die.”

We arrive in Rapid City. “If I drove, we would’ve gotten here faster”, is Sue’s only comment about my driving. I’m okay with it.

(Rapid City Public Art, The President's on every corner)

We settle into our new digs and I get the master suite. There are wild turkeys and deer wandering around the house that borders the National Forest. Daisy (dog) chases them. Rory warns of rattle snakes. Abbey (dog) wanders downhill to the neighbors. I’m trying to be stress-free but the dogs are testing me.

We drive to Deadwood and walk around. We go to Midnight Star, the casino/bar Kevin Costner owns.

We drive to Mount Rushmore and stop at a pull off just before the entrance. It is my first glimpse of George lit up; it’s really cool to see.

We park in an almost vacant parking lot and walk though the state flags and see Mount Rushmore in the distance lit up; it’s really, really cool. We sit and stare.

Back to Rapid City for dinner at the Fire House Brewery.
Next Day: Badlands National Park.

There is no wind until we get into the park. We are on the edge of the Great Plains and there is not a cloud in the sky and the temperature is 80.
I wasn’t prepared for the depth of feeling at seeing the Badlands. The rocks and formations are amazing, stunning; like nothing I’ve ever seen. White rock, striations, colors and spires. The hills look like a papier-mâché project.

Rory says the Indians came to the Badlands because it was their holy ground. They wintered here and felt it was the center of their universe. He says, “They came to talk to the spirits.”

Sand stone, ancient sea bed, shark bones. The movie Armageddon was filmed here. There are cedar trees. I am stunned by the beauty of it all. I can stare into the vastness forever.

We are back to Rapid City, pack, and head south on the open road.

For 8 hours we laugh, talk, listen to music, tell stories. The perfect road trip.

Powderwhore's Breaking Trail

2011-10-08T19:19:00.001-06:00

I have to admit, the thought of winter makes me shiver, until I saw this video:

One more winter in the mountains, maybe.

Bad Advice Wednesday - Bill & Dave

2011-09-25T19:59:00.004-06:00

About Reading:

You might have to read a few posts from here:
http://billanddavescocktailhour.com/
To understand this video.

How to Be Support for Your Athlete

2011-08-14T20:21:00.004-06:00

This week I wrote my Outdoor Column about how to be a good support team for your athlete.

Click here for the story.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Than, the man who taught me how to be a good support team. When we were on the race course in Coeur d’Alene he showed me everything I know. Plus, during down times when we were waiting for our athletes we would talk about family, friendship, racing cars, and our lives so far.

(Note how Than is holding all of Mark's transition bags and has a camera around his neck: perfection)

Than and Mark have been friends since their youth. They take care of each other even though they live thousands of miles apart. I’m envious of their life-long friendship and learned a lot about what you do for friends. Than is a good man; a good father, husband, friend.

I’m glad to know him and call him friend. It was a good day in Coeur d’Alene.

Here's the inspirational shirt created for Team Nash:

Why you should always carry a spare tube, tools, and a phone on a bike ride

2011-08-12T23:05:00.001-06:00

This afternoon I went on an awesome 2 hour bike ride with my friend Kim who is training for Lotoja 2011; a 200+mile bike ride from Utah to Jackson, WY.

She had to bike over 100 miles today as part of her training; I joined her for the last two hours.

Riding west towards Kremmling is a beautiful ride. The light in the canyon and on the cliffs is spectacular. There wasn’t much traffic and the roads were debris free (for the most part).

Cliffs in Hot Sulphur Springs

I haven’t been carrying my tools or spare tubes, mainly because I haven’t been going on longish rides. I don’t carry my cell phone because I’m afraid of breaking it. (Dumb)

At 1 hour 15 minutes into the ride heading west, we turned around. The riding was so perfect; not much wind. I love riding my tri bike. I love being aerodynamic and riding fast.

Just about 7 miles before Granby I got a flat. I knew Kim had a spare so I wasn’t worried. Turns out, she has bigger tires than me. We needed to be saved. I didn’t have my phone so I couldn't call anyone to come get us. Bon was at work. We had to save ourselves before the crazies got us. I panicked (typical). It was getting dark.

Since Kim was so tired, I biked on her road bike back to town, got my car, and picked her up. I was so worried that some crazy would get her so I rode so fast.

I got back to her and she was fine. A State Trooper saw her and pulled over to make sure she was okay. He even offered bug spray. How awesome is that? Does that happen where you live?

Lesson Learned: tube, tools, phone. Always, Always on a ride.

Testing Endurance and Muscle Memory

2011-08-10T13:09:00.001-06:00

I started mountain biking now that trails in Grand County are totally dry and I need a break from road biking.

One of my favorite rides is up Nature’s Way at SolVista.

As I was riding it today for the first time this year, I remembered how I two years ago I would time the climb. Over a period of a few weeks my times got faster and I was able to stop less; eventually not needing to stop at all.

Today, the trail is a constant climb with some sharp turns that took a while getting used to. I had to stop three times. The ride took 25 minutes from my house to the picnic tables at the top of East Peak.

When I ride (mountain bike or road bike) I always come up with goofy challenges to mix up training days. Here is the challenge I thought about today.

Ride Nature's Way every morning for 7 days and 1) report how much faster I get and 2) see how long it takes to not need to stop. I think that it will be a great study on how fast my body adapts to mountain biking and determine if perhaps muscle memory plays a part.

Definition: Muscle Memory: When a movement is repeated over time, a long-term muscle memory is created for that task, eventually allowing it to be performed without conscious effort.

My challenge this week: Ride Nature’s Way every morning tracking time and number of stops. Report back next week

I love when this happens....

2011-08-05T22:02:00.003-06:00

Today is Your Day - Best Song Ever

2011-08-05T21:05:00.002-06:00

You got what it takes you can win, Today is your day to begin, Don’t give up here, don't you quit, The moment is now, this is it. I know that you can, then you will, Get to the top of the hill, Part of the fun is the climb, You just gotta make up your mind.

That today is your day And nothing can stand in your way, Today is your day, Everything’s goin’ your way. When somebody throws sticks and stones, All they can break are your bones, And life's gonna kick around, Then kick you again when your down. Dust yourself off, no regrets, This is as good as it gets, Don't expect more, or less, Just go out and give it your best

Outdoor Adventures Review of My Green Manifesto

2011-08-02T22:21:00.003-06:00

I loved My Green Manifesto. I read it on the beach, on the plane, and in the car while on vacation last week in New Hampshire.

Here is my review of the book published in the Sky Hi Daily News:

The new environmentalism: Loving wildness and fighting for your backyardKristen Lodge / Outdoor Adventures

David Gessner writes in My Green Manifesto, Down the Charles River in Pursuit of the New Environmentalism, “We need stories, told outside, told in a way that links activism to beauty, wild beauty. They should be told in the open air so that we remember that loving and fighting aren't two specialties, but one thing.”

Read more by clicking on this link.
I’m going to write more about this book because it’s so important. But if you click on the link and read my column, you’ll get a 600 word review.

I have so much more to say about it so stay tuned.

My Green Manifesto - David Gessner

2011-07-13T13:14:00.003-06:00

David Gessner just sent me his new book, My Green Manifesto. I started reading the introduction and it's so awesome right now. I started thinking about how I've stopped reading "nature writers", but I think I'm back on track.

I love Gessner's writing style, much like how I want my writing style to be: funny, intellectual, readable.

I'll continue to post updates about the book.

The subtitle is Down the Charles River in Pursuit of a New Environmentalismand since I'm travelling to New England next week it will be the perfect oppourtunity to read more and write about what I think of the book while I'm a bit closer to the Charles River in Boston.
In the meantime, here's the book's trailer.

Middle Park Half Marathon in Granby Colorado

2011-07-09T21:14:00.003-06:00

Middle Park Half Marathon was a great event in Granby today. The weather was perfect for a race, cold and cloudy. I got to lead the #1 runner on my mountain bike; it was more fun that I thought. Residents in Legacy Park came out to cheer on runners.

There were great aid stations.

There were great prizes, running hats, and a sweatshirt for all runners.

The route was scenic. Runners ran past alpacas, there was a bull moose who needed to be run off the road, mountains and valley in the distance, and a final mile run through downtown on Route 40.

There were just under 100 runners, next year we will hope for more.

As we sat around waiting for the medals and prizes, a woman came up to me to ask me about Ironman. She wants to race her first Ironman, saw my Ironman Arizona finisher hat, and wanted to ask me about the race. I love talking about Ironman and my advice: put in the time, use a training plan, read everything you can about racing Ironman. We talked for a bit and exchanged email addresses so she could ask me more questions. Now my fourth bit of advice, ask questions to anyone wearing an Ironman Finisher hat.

I love being part of the endurance sports community and bringing it to Granby was an exciting day.

A story about Hunter Education

2011-06-03T14:25:00.000-06:00

Last month I wrote a story about Hunter Education. It is one of my favorite stories because I attended the three day class and went in not knowing much about hunting.

I learned a lot about gun safety, ethics and responsibility, and wildlife.

Here is the story on the Sky Hi Daily News website.
Click here: Hunter Education.

Fraser (Colorado) Writer's Group

2011-05-23T19:36:00.003-06:00

Every Monday we meet at the Fraser Library. We socialize, we read our stories, try to stay on task, we talk about writing, and then we part.

Today we had a special guest, Kirk Klanke. Kirk came to the writer’s group to talk about the Moffat Firming project and the Fraser River. He came to ask us to write letters to the Wildlife Commission and ask them for a state position on the Moffat Firming and Windy Gap projects that will require mitigation that will offset the true impacts of taking the high flows from the Fraser River. He asked us to share our experiences with the declining health of the Fraser River and send a letter to Colorado Wildlife Commission.

Our Group: from the left: Linda, Howard, Jean, Kirk, Barbara, Gracie, Fran (not pictured) Judy.

I asked him specifically what wildlife is most endangered by these projects. He said trout. But he also said the riparian zones around the Fraser River supports 90% of the wildlife including moose and bird life.

I love that Kirk came to our writer’s group to help us write letters. Last year, his wife, Marianne came to our group as well to help us write letters and to encourage us to spread the word about letter writing campaigns to fight Fraser River diversion projects. Marianne passed away a few months ago and she was a true supporter of saving the Fraser River.

After Kirk left the group, we read our writing. Jean read her outdoor fiction story about her son in the woods during a full moon. Linda read a chapter in her book about women firefighters. Joan wrote about a neighbor friend who helped her care for her children. Gracie read about her first job in Tennessee and how once she was promoted to a better job, the laughter stopped. Judy wrote about an elderly woman who was taken advantage of by a male companion. Howard showed a drawing he did of a man in the mountain off I-70. Barbara wrote a story about wine.

What a great bunch of men and woman who love to write and read. The average age of most members is about 70 so I’m one of the youngest. If you are a writer and would love to read your work, please come. Every Monday at 10:00 at the Fraser Library. We would love to have you.

Road Biking in Rocky Mountain National Park

2011-05-17T08:56:00.000-06:00

Over the weekend I got a long bike ride in. We rode from Grand Lake into Rocky Mountain National Park as far as we could go. As far as we could go ended up being pretty close to Lake Irene, just over 10,000 feet. The road got more narrow and we had to turn around. It was cold coming down, we didn’t notice the cold so much going up, up, up.

The views of the Never Summer Wilderness and Bowen Baker were simply, Stunning. The bluest sky. The whitest clouds. The whitest snow. Can you tell I’m in love with this place?

Here's me with the Never Summer Wilderness behind me.

Next weekend, we will bike again and see if we can go a bit farther.

The road is closed 10 miles in from the Kawuneeche Visitor Center on the Grand Lake side of Rocky Mountain National Park. But, foot and bike travelers can duck the gate (legally) and walk and ride about 7-8 miles.

Fresh Air Fund - Host a NYC Kid

2011-05-10T22:23:00.001-06:00

The Fresh Air Fund is in need of host families for this summer of 2011.

While I typically write about the outdoors in Colorado, I got an email today from Sara Wilson at the Fresh Air Fund and she told me all about the program and how important it is for city children.

The organization is looking for volunteers to open their homes to children from the city to give them a new experience and possibly change their lives.

It is a two week commitment and the children are from New York City. Watch the Video Here.
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Byers Canyon on a Blue Sky Day

2011-05-08T22:30:00.000-06:00

Today I drove through Byers Canyon and I was that girl who pulled over for this shot:

The Solace of Words and the Natural World

2011-04-26T22:24:00.000-06:00

Earlier this week I got this email:
Dear Ms. Lodge, I am pleased to inform you that your poems, "And one day you remember," and "When I go Home Again," have been chosen to appear in the forthcoming issue of Clapboard House. Please forgive the delay in responding to your submission.

Keep Writing
Jonathan Moore
Poetry Editor

It was a much needed email. It almost reaffirms my faith in the life I’ve chosen.

Choice.

Something I’ve been thinking about the last few weeks: choice.

We all make choices that have led us to this exact moment in time. Circumstance and chance are part of it too, but really, choice makes us into the person we are today.

I think about these choices that brought me to this place mostly when outside; either biking, running or hiking with my dogs. I live in a beautiful landscape of mountains and sage. I watch storms approach from the west from my front door. Also from my front door, I can hike and ski. Choice. I chose this.

But chaos comes unwelcomed and I question all these choices. And, when choas comes I go to my words and the stories, quotes, poems, and articles, in the three ring binders. A few days ago I came across a photocopy of The Full Catastrophe by Laura Pritchett. I’ve heard Pritchett speak at writing conferences and have read every article she has written in 5280. I’ve also read her novel, Hell’s Bottom, Colorado and Sky’s Bridge. The Full Catastrophe is written for graduates, but it’s completely applicable to everyone going through a life change.

Here are my favorite excerpts:

1. Your life will be a catastrophe. Catastrophe is good. … the sooner I realized that catastrophe was the norm, the sooner I could dive in and embrace it. ..My point is to try to love the full catastrophe that lies ahead. .. Embrace the mess.

3. Choose your mate wisely. ….. try to pick the right person, because nothing in your life will feel right if you've picked the wrong one.

7. Simple stubbornness can take you a long way. …When I graduated, I set out to be a writer, and I became a writer not because of any great gifts. No, I became a writer because I am stubborn enough to believe I can do what I want.

8. You will meet failure. Because you are human beings, you are going to find disappointment, injustice, betrayal, and irreparable loss. You will find you're weak where you thought you were strong. You will experience times when you feel very alone and very afraid. Probably you already have, and you will again. I hope you will be able to live there, in the dark place, to embrace it for the full catastrophe it is, and to wait it out.

10. We live a full catastrophe, and then we die. That means that, in the meantime, we must be honest and true, raw and real, and honor our fundamental connectedness. ….we must believe in curiosity; we must believe in the power of beauty.

I wish I could remember her advice so sharing this story makes me hopeful that I will remember these things when catastrophe hits, again. For now, I know the solace that words and the outdoors can bring. I’m heading out for a hike right now, maybe in moonlight.

Book Review: Unless It Moves the Human Heart

2011-04-14T22:07:00.000-06:00

Unless It Moves the Human Heart: The Craft and Art of Writing by Roger Rosenblatt.

I bought this book because I remember riding in an elevator with a woman who just discussed the book during a panel at AWP Conference in Washington DC. She had the book in her hand and was telling someone that the book made her cry because what it taught her was so important. I asked her what the name of the book was and she showed me the cover. A book that moved a woman to tears - I needed to know more. I bought the book a month later and just finished reading it today.

Rosenblatt’s chapters are from his writing class in New York. The best part was the end. I got a bit tired of reading all the dialogue during each chapter, but he did captured my attention on page 10 when he said the writing life practically guarantees writers “rejection, poverty, and failure.” I read and hear this over and over again, yet something continues to draw me to a writer’s life.

In this first section he tells us that he looks at his students and “can’t help but think that something deliberate and stubborn lies behind their decision to make artists of themselves.” (11) Stubborn-ness, a quality I have.

He says, “Writing is the cure for the disease of living.”

This book reminds me that writers have a story to tell and sometimes these stories assign blame and some attempt to explain things the writer can’t really explain. I like this idea and it makes me think of my novel-in-progress and how I write my character’s feelings and there is an element of assigning blame in their thoughts and actions. The characters attempt to explain things that I never really understood. I can’t wait to see what happens next, in this novel I am writing.

The final chapter of Unless It Moves the Human Heart: The Craft and Art of Writing is my favorite: Parting Shots. Rosenblatt writes about his friend Lewis Thomas and how he says at the end of his life he wants to be useful. He would “die content” if he knew he had been useful in his life. The author writes in response:

“for your writing to be great …. It must be useful to the world. And for that to happen you must form an opinion of the world. …And for that to happen you have to live in the world and not pretend it’s not someone else’s world you are writing about…nothing you write will matter unless it moves the human heart, said the poet A.D Hope. And the heart that you must move is corrupt, depraved, and desperate for your love.”(151)

The final words of the book [I just love them and will follow them]: “Both you and the human heart are full of sorrow. But only one of you can speak for that sorrow and ease its burdens and make it sing – word after word after word.”

These are the words that the woman in the elevator must have heard when she was crying.

How to Avoid Mud Season and Hike at 8,000 feet

2011-04-14T19:33:00.005-06:00

It is 7am and I’m hiking with my dogs on the trails in Granby. The sun is shining and the dogs are running around happy to be off leash for a while. We are on the trails behind my house and the birds are singing.

I still can’t identify the birds by their call but will by the end of this summer; no matter what.

I’ve been a bit obsessed with the Osprey (see Osprey post) and my biologist-boyfriend saw the first one of the season near Shadow Mountain Lake on Hwy 34. Lucky him.

He promises to show me their nests. He has yet to learn that he will be teaching me bird call identification this summer.

I think of this while hiking on top of the frozen mud and realize that this is the best time of the day to hike in April and May at 8,000 feet. I know once the sun shines for an hour the trail will be a sloppy mess.

So here are my tips to Survive Mud Season in a Mountain Town:
• All hiking and trail running must commence at first light and terminate at 9am.
• In the afternoon, hike and run on paved trails such as the Paved Fraser River Trail from Alco in Fraser to Winter Park Resort. The sun hits the pavement and dries it by noon.
• In the evening, don’t attempt to run or hike on either dirt of paved trails especially if the temperature drops. Dirt trails will be muddy and paved trails will begin to get icy. It’s best to walk on road with cars, they will be the safest.

It is this thawing and freezing that captures my attention this morning. Much like my bike ride last week with my triathlete friend, Kim. She and I biked from Granby to Rocky Mountain National Park; about 30 miles. The sun was out, thank goodness, but the air was cold. It was also windy. The wind is fierce this spring. The wind and cold air froze my toes while riding.

The melting snow made little streams of water in the road and I rode through them. The water on the shoes froze and melted continually during the three hour ride.

Why would anyone want to come to the mountains or stay in the mountains during mud season?

Great question and I have a great answer:

The solitude. It’s so quiet here. The birds and wildlife are moving around. The sage is starting to appear under the weight of snow. It's a beautiful time to live here in Grand County, Colorado.

Remember my hiking tips and you will love the outdoors during a mountain town spring. Plus, there is no waiting in lines at the grocery store or coffee shop {Mountain Grind and Bistro] or waiting to turn left.

Spend your mornings outside and cabin fever will disappear; and you’ll remember why you live here.

Soon you will be chanting: I Love Mud Season, I Love Mud Season.

To view another story I wrote about Mud Season Click Here.

I love Mud Season.
When I first moved to Grand County last year people asked me how I liked living here and I told them I loved it. Then they said, wait until winter, I wasn’t quite sure what that meant.

Now I know. This winter was tough; windy, snowy, cold.

This story written in 2008. Nothing changes much here. We all think winter is tough, windy, snowy and cold.

You can also view this story, How to Have Fun in Mud Season, a story from last year about fishing in Lake Granby.

Birding for Beginners

2011-03-28T19:21:00.002-06:00

Walking in the woods to collect my thoughts is a habit I learned in Vermont; perfected in Colorado.

I grew up in a family of athletes. My dad played college basketball. My mom was a phys ed teacher and soccer coach. My sister a high school soccer star. My brother a quarterback. I wasn’t good at any organized sport.
I didn’t get an outdoor education until I moved to the mountains; the northern Maine woods and the Green Mountains in Vermont. I thought I was an outdoor woman because I skied, hiked, and backpacked. I didn't know a thing.

When I did do these things, I didn’t know the type of tree I skied between or the birds singing ing the trees or the animals that scurried past me on the trails or the tracks of wildlife that trammeled by my tent at night.

I did, however, watch my dogs run free, ears flopping but didn’t look for birds, wild flowers or wildlife.

When I lived in northwestern Maine, I’d hike with my friend Brad. The Appalachian Trail was ten miles from his house and we would often hike on it or all the trails near it. Brad would often stop to point out beautiful flowers or walk off trail to look for Trillium. I would get aggravated that our hikes would take longer for all his stops. I wanted to get to the top of the peak for the amazing view and sense of accomplishment. I was always in a rush to get to the top and, then, to get home. Not that I had anything pressing to do at home, I just wanted to hike, bag a peak, and then get back. I missed so mucy.

However, I do remember the flowers the beautiful pink or purple Trillium he pointed out; and perhaps can still identify today.

A year or two later, after living in Vermont and hiking with my lab, Abbey, I got to know the same trail in every season, for two seasons. I still couldn't name tree and flowers and birds, but I watched. Every day and every season, I watched.

I don’t know if this lack of learning is biological, generational or environmental. I have so many interests and want to do everything perhaps part of the problem. The phrase ’kill two birds with one stone’ in my world includes a long run with the dogs or talking on the phone as I drive to work, not hiking on a trail and trying to identify the bird in the tree by their song.

I got my first bird education at the Christmas Bird count in Granby, Colorado a few years ago. I counted Ravens, Stellar Jays, Mountain Chickadees, Black Capped Chickadees, White Breasted Nuthatch, and Rosy Finches.

I remember a line from the book The Man Who Fell in Love with the Moon: “Scrutinizing – touching what you are looking at with your eyes – you run all over the valley and look in on things that couldn’t see you looking, for what it was out there that you didn’t know and needed to know – scrutinizing people, the world, for the best story, for the truth.”

This is what I do now. I'm slowing down, looking for birds, learning about the outdoor world. I now feel like I'm more of an outdoor woman because I can identify the black capped chickadees in my feeder; maybe next year I’ll learn another one.

Writing and Learning About Place: David Gessner Groupie

2011-03-20T21:54:00.004-06:00

I can’t remember the exact sequence of events how I discovered David Gessner and his book, Under the Devil’s Thumb.

I think I read he was presenting a nature writing topic at the AWP Conference in Denver in 2010. Since I thought I “lived under the Devils Thumb” here in Granby, I bought his book to read before listening to his panel.

When I saw him in Denver, he certainly knew how to make an impression. When he was introduced and spoke into the microphone he beat his chest like a caveman. I don’t remember what he said, but I remembered him.

A year later, I saw his name on a panel at the 2011 AWP Conference in Washington DC. I signed up. I brought Under the Devil’s Thumb for him to sign but was too afraid to approach him. (The same with Pam Houston. I become star-struck near published writers.)

Tonight, I finished reading Under the Devil’s Thumb.

East coast born, moved west, and now he lives back on the east coast. I understand his displacement and wanting to know a place well. I’ve lived in Colorado for eight years and finally feel like I know a little more about the place. Gessner says that his story is about “the healing that can come through falling in love with where we live.” Like Gessner, I left many things behind and wanted to live out our national myth, for renewal and regeneration. And, “take my cure in the mountains.”

I wish I could describe the Stellar and Gray Jays he sees on his hikes and the creeks and streams he meditates near. He falls in love with the Continental Divide, the history of Colorado, the trails, this place. Hmm. Sounds familiar.

In his book he quotes my favorites: Thoreau, Stegner, Helen Hunt Jackson, Saner.

He rides his bike, hikes, and camps all around Boulder. He has a cat named Tabernash.

My favorite line from his book:

These are my pleasures as well.

“The jittery feeling after a run, the slight euphoria following the first drink, the quiet of walking by the creek, the mind-emptying joys of a bike ride, the eye-closing pleasure of devouring a great meal, the occasional out-of-self absorption when the writing is going as good as it can…” (75)

Today, I felt blah and unmotivated to write. I was discouraged by the writing life, until I finished reading his book. I am inspired again.

Why do we write? Why do any of us feel compelled to write the stuff of our lives?

I write because it matters. It matters.

I write to feel alive.

I hear or remember a story. I want to tell the world about it. I need to put pen to paper (or finger tips to keyboard) and tell the world what I’m thinking. In that process I make meaning of my life.

It is a yearning for connection. The yearning to hear someone say: “Yes, Yes, I know what you are feeling.” Much like I felt reading, Under the Devil’s Thumb.

Sometime I write about what devours me: sadness, love, pain, want.

Sometime I write about how I wished things turned out.

Sometimes I just write.

Sometimes magic happens.

I think that I will be a Gessner Groupie and read everything he’s written. He has much wisdom about place and landscape. I have a lot to learn.

“I’m afraid I am a polygamist of place. This worries me. Is a man with two homes doubly blessed? Or is he homeless?” (204)

Granby Town Lights

2011-03-15T18:05:00.002-06:00

Originally Published in Rough Writers, Inc Literary Magazine2008

“All the world was shining from those hills, The stars above and the lights below. Among those there to test their fortunes and their wills I lost track of the score long ago.” – Jackson Browne Barricades of Heaven

It is 9:00 on a cold, windy January night. I am driving north on Route 40, coming home from work in Fraser. I descend Red Dirt Hill as the snow squalls twirl on the black road in my headlights. I come around the final curve and see the lights of Granby in the distance; the twinkling lights are like beacons, and I smile. Every night this happens.

Descending into Granby and seeing the lights remind me of my first night in Colorado in 1988. I was seventeen and didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life except be in the west. All my friends were preparing for their first year of college while I flew west to Denver for a hiking trip through the Rocky Mountains with people I didn’t know. I was excited, scared, happy, and didn’t know what to expect around every turn.

I met the other group members at the Denver airport and we drove north to Estes Park. We arrived at night and I was tired from an early morning flight from Boston and ready for bed. A sign on the road to Estes Park made me questions my decision to do this trip: “climb to safety in case of flash flood”. But it all vanished the moment we turned a curve in the road and the sight made my heart race and eyes fill with the tears of extreme emotion. We were coming into a valley of lights; it was like coming into a new kind of paradise for the first time. The lights were welcoming me; calling me closer. I’d never seen a valley like this; the lights sprinkled the lower valley and canyons walls. I was 2,000 miles from home and never wanted to leave.

It is this same sense of overwhelming beauty and wildness I feel as I drive home in the evening; coming home. Home – I feel at home here, more than anywhere I’ve ever lived. I moved to Granby not knowing anyone or anything about the town except the demographics from a website; much like the hiking trip through the Rocky Mountains. The lights of Granby remind me of that sense of adventure and desire to learn about a new place. The lights remind me of a Walt Whitman poem, Bivouac on a Mountain Side

Below a fertile valley spread, with bars and the
Orchards of summer,
Behind, the terraced sides of a mountain, abrupt,
In places rising high,
Broken with rocks, with clinging cedars, with
Tall shapes dingily seen
And over all the sky – the sky! Far, far out of reach,
Studded, breaking out, the eternal stars

All these sights and sounds in Granby remind me of the confusion and excitement of the search for where I want to be. And, they turn me back into that seventeen year old girl with her backpack and hiking boot in the trunk of the car, looking for new adventures in the west.

I am comforted by the Granby Town Lights.

Appalachia, White Mountains, and Dreams

2011-03-10T09:32:00.004-07:00

Last month when I was back east for a conference (Washington, DC), I bought the journal, Applalachia, at the Barnes and Noble in Bethesda.

I hadn’t been in a Barnes and Noble in years so I slowly walked through my favorite sections: New Non Fiction, scowling at the popular reality show characters who actually get books published. I smiled at the great titles of new memoirs and their no-name authors who scored book deals. If I had all the money in the world, I would have bought those beautiful hard-cover memoirs and literary fiction with great titles and beautiful covers.

I continued to the sports section looking for triathlon books that I needed to read, ending in the magazine section. I looked for literary journals and magazines about the writing life. I picked up a British triathlon magazine I’d never heard of and in the outdoor section saw the journal, Applachia.

Appalachia is “American’s Longest-Running Journal of Mountaineering and Conservation" according to the cover. It is an AMC book and I had never read it. When I lived in New Hampshire I was an AMC member and every month got the magazine, but never got the journal. I skimmed a few pages and kept seeing "White Mountains" and photos of mountain tops I've been on and knew I needed to buy it.

I didn’t read it on the plane home. I waited until I got home so I could savor every word that was written about hiking in the White Moutains. I wanted to read every article slowly and remember the time spent in the woods and mountain peaks of New Hampshire and Maine.

The cover photo of the Winter/Spring 2011 edition is taken from a logging camp to the north of Owl’s Head, a 4,000 foot peak that I never got to. But I swear, if that photo was in a different magazine or somewhere on the internet unnamed, I could tell it was taken in the White Mountains.

I’m feeling a bit nostalgic today and reading the first lines of Pemigewasset Dreams by Jonathan Mingle, I start thinking about the Pemigewasset wilderness and the time I spent wandering its trails. Those two words together are magical to me today: Pemigewasset and Dreams. His story starts: “I am walking through Zealand Notch, south toward Thoreau Falls.” I’m there. I want to be there. The second paragraph keeps me reading: “But the forest disrobed offers me a chance to scan for signs of the cataclysm, so I do.” He is wandering the valley in winter admiring a reborn forest after decades of logging.

He says the place names that marked my world so long ago such as Carrigan, Zeacliff, Zealand Falls Hut, Mount Tom, and Pemigewasset.

Reading the story, I think about how little wandering in the woods I’ve done this winter. I’ve skied and hiked short trips with the dogs. No long skis on the trails in Winter Park and no long hikes up the mountain behind my house. I am feeling that I am missing winter and bemoaning the cold; very uncharacteristic of me.

Today, I will go out my front door, dogs on leash, and wander around a bit more before the afternoon of triathlon training. Today, I will spend more time outside than inside. It’s a beautiful day on the western slope, blue sky, temperatures hovering in the 30s. Earlier this morning as I write, like William Stafford did, "before first light" that I am living my dream. All this time I thought my dream was Montana, but it really is Colorado.

For now, the Rocky Mountains are my dream and I will wander its valley and mountain peaks.
I’ll get back to the Whites and the Pemi and Owl’s Head, some day. It’s part of my history. And, it will be part of my future.

How to Be a Hockey Fan

2011-03-03T11:27:00.000-07:00

I went to an Colorado Avalanche game last week and fell in love with hockey again.

You see, I used to be a sports fan. In my early teens I watched the NY Yankees and Pittsburgh Steelers. I ate Reggie candy bars and had a crush on Terry Bradshaw.

As I got older I started going to Plattsburgh State Men's Ice Hockey games with my middle school friends. I liked the player who wore #6; and can’t remember his name. But I followed him for a year or so until I moved to New Hampshire and started watching college and pro basketball.

My favorites players were Patrick Ewing at Georgetown and Dr. J (#6) with the 76ers.

My junior year in high school I went to my first Bruins game and started liking #6 - Gord Kluzak. I took friends to as many games as I could that year. I bought a Kluzak jersey and wore it all the time. [I let a friend borrow the jersey for a Halloween costume, and never got it back.]

Shortly before high school graduation I discovered the outdoor world and started skiing and hiking.

The sports watching stopped.

I even dated a man who had to watch SportCenter on ESPN every night before going to sleep, and still, it didn’t get me back into sports. I vaguely remember the silliness of the sportscasters and wonder if they still have funny broadcasts of the day’s sports stories.

Last week I went to an Avs game. Going to the game was a birthday present for my like-minded boyfriend: we agree that it is fun to watch a professional sports game in person, but we wouldn’t watch it on TV. We went down to the ice during practice and I watched the Edmonton Oilers warm up. I saw #27 Penner and he reminded me of Kluzak, tall, scruffy, tough. During the first period he scored the first goal.
I am officially a sports fan again. I enjoy following a player I like; it makes watching sports more fun. I have a propensity to have crushes on tall, tough, men with the number 6 on their back. [how old am I?]

I started following Edmonton on Twitter and Facebook.

Days later, Penner is traded to LA.

I become an LA Kings fan. I’m hooked.

I might even start watching SportCenter.

A Sense of Where We Were; Writing about where we choose to live

2011-02-13T13:58:00.001-07:00

Since returning from the AWP conference in Washington DC, I have so many ways to improve my story collection that I’m trying to find a publisher for. The story I’ve been working on this week is called, Granby Colorado, Stories from 8,000.

The panel that influenced me the most was called A Sense of Where We Were: Nonfiction Writers on Setting. I really enjoyed listening to Bob Cowser and Kristen Iversen.

Cowser grew up in rural west Tennessee and wrote about this place in his book, Scorekeeping. He told us that he started writing about the history of this place from the town information in the phone book.
He gave me some ideas on how to rework my Granby essay using historical facts and not just writing about my own impressions of a place.

So here are the first few paragraphs of a revised Granby Story, still a work-in-progress.

Dr. Susan Anderson arrived in Fraser in 1907 "Train Number One" of the Northwestern & Pacific Railway at the Moffat Road Station. She crossed the Continental Divide at 11,660 feet, at the time the only way to get to Grand County in the winter months. She ended up staying for fifty years. Initially she had to prove herself at a doctor over and over to locals and arriving to see patients on snowshoes and in snowstorms. Her patients were lumberjacks, railroad men and women who needed medical care.

One hundred years later, I arrived in Grand County from the north via highway 40 in my 2001 Subaru.

Grand County is named after Grand Lake and the Grand River, the first name given for the Colorado River with its headwaters on the western slope of Rocky Mountain National Park. Granby, the town I live in is 7,939 feet above sea level. Latitude: 40.09 N, Longitude: 105.94 W

Grand County’s rugged terrain is much different from its surrounding counties most likely due to extreme temperatures and wind. Despite all of the extremes I encounter my first year, I surprise myself and fall in love with this place.

Books I like to Read

2011-01-28T20:46:00.001-07:00

Alice Walker - the old stand by of how to live and how to write.
Marc Reisner - Cadillac Desert - a class book on living western and western water issues
Anything by Alice Munro - the ultimate short story writer and writing about the most ordinary subjects
Natalie Goldberg - one of her writing prompts in Old Friend from Far Away: Write your life story in 10 minutes. It's amazing what you write about when limited by time; you cut to the chase quickly. It makes you remember what is important and what events have shaped you.
When Raccoons Fall Through Your Ceiling - a handbook for living with wildlife and a must read.

But the best book, my third favorite book after Angle of Repose (Stegner) and Gone With the Wind, Cowboys are My Weakness by Pam Houston. My favorite story in the book, Jackson is Only One of My Dogs. You should read it.

The Outdoor Life and Profound Experiences

2011-01-23T20:43:00.001-07:00

What life experiences stand out as profound, unusual, or turning points? A great question; one that prompted me to write my book of stories about living in mountain towns.

My first hike was in 1988 when my boyfriend at the time took me on an overnight hike to Mount Lafayette in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. I’ve written so many stories from many different perspectives about that first pivotal hike. It changed my life. Once I hiked that first peak, I wanted to hike every peak I saw in the distance. Those days I was running from everything, but hiking a high peak made me feel like I was accomplishing something. I knew that I would be climbing mountains for a very long time. I loved the work it took to get to the top of a mountain.

I loved the views once I got there, that maybe only a few people saw. I loved the companionship of hiking with a friend and the ensuing conversation on the way to the magnificent view. I love the flora and the fauna and the wildlife, I sometimes encountered.

The second profound moment of my life was driving out west, to Colorado; just me, my dog and the open road. I wanted to be a westerner since I was 17 and at 33, I became one. I wanted to know everything about being a westerner: the landscape, its pioneers, its natives, its artists. I fell in love with the landscape, the pioneer history, and the artists of Colorado. I love the adventurous spirit of the people who choose to make a mountain landscape their home.

There are more stories to share and to write; most of the good stories happened when I opened myself up to each experience and just let things happen. Most of them happened while outdoors, or participating in outdoor experiences like hiking, biking, running or skiing. It’s a good life; this outdoor life in the mountains.

Ice Skating, Hockey, and a Winter Place

2011-01-12T17:54:00.002-07:00

When you grow up in an outdoor place, snow and ice sports are your existence in winter. I grew up in Plattsburgh, New York, just miles from the Canada border. Some call it “upstate”, some call it “the north country”. I love all those names.

I remember snow storms that never ended, playing in snowplowed snow piles, and ice skating. We weren’t a skiing family, in winter we sledded and ice skated.

When I got older I took ice skating lessons at SUNY Plattsburgh's ice rink. I learned how to do figure eights on one skate, how to do a sit spin, and other fancy tricks. I even had a cute little ice skating skirt.

It's a good place to be from; a good place to remember.

FVHA Youth Practice

I’ve always wanted to get back to ice skating and wanted to learn how to play hockey. I just may be able to now that the Fraser Rec Center completed their rink.

The ice rink opened in December 2010.

At the Fraser Valley Sports Complex in Fraser, Colorado there is a 40 acre park just a mile outside of downtown Fraser on county road 5. The ice rink is partially enclosed and it’s NHL sized. I think I might just start skating again.

A Snow Day on the Fraser River

2011-01-09T15:11:00.000-07:00

All Winter Long the Willows Wait by Aleksandra Lachut

All winter long the willows wait,
Nor more nor less than willing,
Glad to be, but just a bit
Entropic in their chilling.
Life longs ever for rebirth,
Awake to its long sleep,
As willows need their leaves for breath

The Fraser River, on a snow day, today, in Fraser, Colorado.

"I never intended to have this life"

2011-01-08T22:05:00.001-07:00

I never intended to have this life, believe me-
It just happened. You know how dogs turn up
At a farm, and they wag but can’t explain.
-The Resemblance Between Your Life and a Dog by Robert Bly

No, I didn’t intend to have the life I have. But do any of us, really? I always thought I’d be living in northwest Montana; maybe someday I will. I love these lines from Robert Bly.

Writer in Residence; A Poem

2011-01-06T17:01:00.002-07:00

With a flick of a gloved hand
a dusting of snow sprays off the green picnic table
that comes with a view of the craggy peaks
of the Rocky Mountains
And at this movement
become writer in residence
On top of East Peak

a new tradition for the holidays
a hike to East Mountain with my dogs
pen and paper
commemorate the tradition
give thanks

While sitting atop the world
watching the landscape
red lodgepole pines, Fraser River Canyon, Continental Divide
sage, wildflowers - buried under snow

And, as writer in residence
there is always a place
to be
Inspired.

KL 1/7/11

Fraser River Project

2011-01-03T19:45:00.000-07:00

The next three months I’m dedicating time and energy to learning everything I can about the Fraser River.

I want to know everything and understand everything about the river: it’s origins, water diversion history and potential new projects, the organizations that protect it, the people who love it and play in it.

Three months.

Do you know someone who has a great story to tell?

Are you an advocate for saving this river?

Tell me your story. Tell me what the Fraser River means to you.

Over the next three months I’ll be taking pictures of it: at different locations, at different times of the day, just to watch it, to have it part of my life, to understand it, to save it.

Email me and tell me your story or send me your pictures; it’s important lodgek@gmail.com

"where people love him and will happy to see his face"

2011-01-02T20:02:00.001-07:00

Lake Wobegon Days. "Some luck lies in not getting what you want, but getting what you have. which when you think about it, it is what you would have wanted all along had you known..he starts out on the short walk to the house where people love him and will happy to see his face.”

I love this book, I love this quote.

I read this book in 1988 as I travelled through Wyoming and Montana. I find that over the years this quote still holds true. After all my travels all over the world and this country, there is still nothing better than walking into a house where people love you and are happy to see you; perhaps after many years away, a few months, or even just a few days.

But the first line, “Some luck lies in not getting what you want, but getting what you have” and maybe re-reading it again, just a few days after the new year which makes me feel a bit more reflective and a little more sentimental, gets me everytime.

"Some luck lies in not getting what you want, but getting what you have”

When I re-read this quote, I think about Wyoming and Montana, two places where I thought I would live, but never made it.

Some day, maybe.

For now, this outdoor place is enough for me. I get to walk out my door to trails: skiing, hiking, and biking trails. It’s a good place to live. Sometimes, that is all we need to know.

Happy New Year

Active.com – not just a website to sign up for events

2010-12-28T21:28:00.002-07:00

I discovered activetrainer.com a few months ago and have been recording every workout on it ever since. I already have an active.com ID from all the races I’ve signed up for, so it is easy to go out to the site and create a workout log. Now, I log all my training workouts (including weight training and cross training) on this site (for free).

It not only gives me a sense of accomplishment that I’ve finished workouts (did I mention it is free) but it also allows me to log such esoteric data such as stress level (1-10), sleep quality (1-10), and my personal favorite, Well Being (1-10).

This is the daily option

but there is also a weekly and monthly view. I like the weekly summary to show total hours.

Plus, I can choose an avatar (the graphical representation of a user). This is what I like to think I’m like; even if I’m not.

I’m on a 36 week training plan for Ironman Lake Placid and it’s fun to track my progress; even my weight. There are free training plans and training logs out on the world wide web, and here are my favorites:

Training Plan: SuperCoach

Training Logs: Active Trainer

My Column: The Seasons Always Surprise Me

2010-12-15T18:47:00.001-07:00

Last week I wrote my Outdoor Column about a poem my sister wrote and how I thought of the words of her poem while skiing on the Fraser River Trail.

It's amazing the thoughts and pictures your mind remembers while doing an activity outside. Skiing, hiking, and just walking dogs, clears my mind. I think of so many things, remember so many events and people. I'm consider myself lucky when I remember enough of them to write the thoughts down when I get back home.

My sister's poem is amazing. Here is a link to the story: http://www.skyhidailynews.com/article/20101211/NEWS/101219988&parentprofile=search

One of the important aspects of writing, writing anything: poems, stories, non-fiction - revision. My sister revised her final poem from the original one she sent me and the one line that was edited out, much to my dismay, is this line:

And I believe in the power of the earth
And the power of people to be strong and generous and good.

I just love this line and I think it means so much; I believe, too. I believe in the power of people to be strong, generous, good. The best line, the best thoughts, ever.

Bicycle Dreams

2010-12-03T14:00:00.003-07:00

I found this by clicking on a Facebook Ad that said:

TOUGHER THAN IRONMAN?bicycledreamsmovie.com

"Bicycle Dreams" the celebrated movie about the world's toughest race. Do triathletes have what it takes to finish this cyclist beast?

Nice Target Marketing to me.

Ironman Arizona - Done

2010-12-01T09:50:00.003-07:00

So I finished Ironman Arizona. Just about a year ago I signed up and was hoping for an amazing day; I did have an amazing day.

Sign ups for next year sold out quickly and I'm reminded of the column I wrote about a year ago regarding winning the Ironman lottery.

As I re-read the story, I am reminded about what Ironman is, what it really means, and that Ironman is anyone who sets out to find out what they are truly capable of doing.

“Ironman is Not a Superhero: Ironman is anybody who's ever dreamed of becoming more, who's ever wanted to become better than what they are now, who's ever desired to find out the kind of person they were meant to be.

“Ironman is anybody who's then decided to act, and picked themselves up, and opened the door, and gone outside, and taken the first step of many steps ... towards the number of 140.6 as marked in miles, on a journey that will ultimately last a lifetime. Ironman is anybody. Ironman is you.”

From: http://www.jonathaninthedistance.blogspot.com/

Here's the start of the original column from: Anything is possible, Outdoor Adventures

"I won the lottery.
Not the lottery where you get a pile of money; the one where a triathlete sits online trying to gain entry into the big race: Ironman Arizona. The athlete pays active.com $550; I am lucky - I get into Ironman Arizona Nov. 21, 2010. Entry for all Ironman races is the day after race day, for the following year. Most races typically sell out on the Internet in the first few hours; Ironman Arizona sold out in 25 minutes."

Read the rest of the Story in Outdoor Adventures

Cross Country Skiing Adventure in the Fraser Valley

2010-11-30T07:58:00.000-07:00

I've started cross country skiing again this week as active recovery from Ironman Arizona. I’ve been skiing at lunch on the Fraser River Trail increasing time each trip. It is such a beautiful trail with Winter Park Resort’s slopes in the distance and then coming back to the Fraser Visitor Center, I see Byers. The first day out was a sunny, bluebird day, then yesterday I missed the sunshine window and when I got out on the trail, in came the clouds and impending storm. However, I took some good pictures of the Fraser River and the dark foreboding clouds.

While I enjoyed the climate in Arizona last week (it was like a Grand County summer in Tempe), I’m glad to be home and getting out on the trails filled with snow. Since I’m still in recovery mode, no running and don’t have any desire to get back on my bike for indoor riding. I think I’ll stick to skiing (downhill and cross country) and hiking with the dogs.

Indoor Spinning with a Lake View

2010-11-11T22:57:00.001-07:00

I am indoor spinning (http://www.neversummerfitness.com/) in preparation for Ironman, 10 days away. The class is hard but it’s better than biking outdoors in 30 degree temps. I like biking with my friend George, who I met in spin class over a year ago who has been such an awesome friend and biking partner.

Ironman is just around the corner. I am so excited to go to Arizona and compete in my second Ironman. I know it’s going to be a great week. I’m going to love Arizona and 80 degree temps after it not getting above 50 the last few days.

I know it’s going to be the best time in my life; I just know it. Ironman - where anything is possible.

http://ironmanarizona.com/arzclock.html

Thoughts from a Former Peak Bagger

2010-11-05T07:38:00.001-06:00

There are so many times during the year that I think of all the things I want to do some day. I like making lists of all the things I want to do. I haven't been getting to many of them since I'm still working on the list from last year or a decade ago. I keep thinking of all the peaks around Grand County that I still haven't done like Byers and Vasquez. Or even the 14,000 footers that I'd like to do. I've lived in Colorado for almost seven years and haven't done one.

It's about time that I get one done and that is my top goal from next summer: To hike a 14,000 footer. Over the winter I will start planning and reading and learning about hiking them. There's a story in there some where.

Vasquez Wilderness

Here's the story I wrote this year about peak bagging and why I suddenly stopped climbing the big mountains.

I haven't hiked Byers Peak, yet. As an avid hiker and outdoor enthusiast living in Grand County for over three years, I'm embarrassed to admit it. The craggy peak taunts me every morning while I drive to work: Hike me, hike me.

Read the rest of the story here:

Preserving Wilderness and What We Love

2010-11-04T11:19:00.000-06:00

“we are the most dangerous of species of life on this planet, and every other species, even the earth itself, has cause to fear our power to exterminate. But we are also the only species which, when it chooses to do so, will go to great effort to save what it might destroy.”

Wallace Stegner This is Dinosaur

I'm writing a future column about wilderness and I am reminded of the Ken Burns film about the National Parks that came out last year.

Thought I would re-post my column about my thoughts on preserving public land and what the Ken Burns film meant to me.

It is not enough to understand the natural world. The point is to defend and preserve it. - Edward Abbey

Three events created the perfect storm in my life this month: I watched Ken Burns' documentary, “The National Parks America's Best Idea,” my family visited and with a swift kick in the butt, I realized there are so many awesome places in my “backyard”, I need to play in them, and I read in a letter to the editor that Cozens Ranch may close permanently.

This perfect storm makes me realize I need to take action; protect these things I care about before they are gone.

Two hours each night and six nights — 12 hours total — I watched the Ken Burns special; I was entranced.

Click here to read the rest of the story.

An Author Asks: 'Can Poetry Save The Earth?'

2010-10-28T10:28:00.002-06:00

Vision Quest

2010-10-24T12:11:00.001-06:00

Best Quote:

"You're on a vision quest, man. You're trying to find your place in the circle."

My Daisy - Dog

2010-10-24T10:28:00.002-06:00

Colorado in October - it's a good place to be

2010-10-20T23:43:00.002-06:00

Ironman Arizona is just five weeks away. It seems like only yesterday I signed up. Well, now it's very close. This week is a 21 hour training week (a part time job). I actually feel good; not too tired. My body seems to be adapting to the longer training runs and bike rides.
Tomorrow is a 6 hour bike ride; still don't know what route I'll take but the weather is looking good so far, highs of 55.

There is still only snow at 10,000 feet so I'm feeling fortunate that there is none at 8,000 feet where I live so I can still ride outside.

Life is good and this is a great place to be.

Life seems to be handing me so many great things right now. I will be writing about Snow Sports in the Rocky Mountain West for newwest.net this winter and my writing class in Denver is amazing. There are others things, too, but I won't gush here.

For now, riding and running outside, listening to the crunching of leaves and the cool mountain air, all remind me to be thankful for a good life.

Tonight, I look back at where I was a year ago, writing the story about Ironman and training outside in wind, snow, rain, cold. Here is the column from last year:
Anything is Possible.

No Snow Yet

2010-10-14T20:25:00.002-06:00

Snow is still not in the forecast and I like everything about it. This year I have been blessed with perfect autumn weather for Ironman training. While it snowed a few days ago in Winter Park, there was no snow in Granby. I can still ride my bike and run outside.

November 21, will signal the last day of 2010 triathlon training and racing. Then I can look forward to skiing. Winter is one of my favorite seasons. I love skiing: downhill and backcountry skiing. And, like I wrote in last year’s column, In November, we wait for snow.

In November, we wait for snow. We wait for weather reports and clouds coming from the northwest. After ten years of living in ski towns, I still get excited for the first big snow and the ritual of getting all the ski gear out of storage: sweaters, hats, gloves, and ski jackets. Each morning as I walk to the door to open the blinds I hold my breath in anticipation for what poet Billy Collins writes in the first line of Snow Day: “Today we woke up to a revolution of snow” and hope for snow on the ground.

Click here to read, A Revolution of Snow.

Living in Vacation Land has its rewards

2010-10-13T22:04:00.002-06:00

Just about a year ago, my Aunt Nancy and Uncle Tim came to Colorado to visit me. One of the most fun things we did was go to Rocky Mountain National Park to see the elk bugling. I had never heard the elk bugle, or even know what it meant, until they visited and we went to the park.

I didn’t go this year to see the elk, Nancy and Tim didn’t come to see me this year.

Here is the column I wrote last year about their visit.

One of the benefits of living in vacation land is being a tourist in your own town when family visits and exploring the place you call home. Last week Nancy and Tim came to Grand County to visit me. I wanted to show off my town and give them a Rocky Mountain vacation they would remember.

They were on their own for the first two days while I worked. Trail Ridge Road stayed closed due to snow so they spent their afternoons in the Kawuneeche Valley watching the elk and searched for moose. I joined them after work. When I arrived, they knew exactly where to take me; we stood at the edge of Harbison Meadow and watched the elk through binoculars until dark. I became amazed at the elk as I stood next to the family from Oklahoma transfixed, as they were, at these majestic animals.

View the rest of the story here:

Hunting in Grand County, Colorado

2010-10-12T20:28:00.000-06:00

It’s that time of year, again – Hunting Season. I never used to be a big fan of hunting. But now, since I choose to live where I do, it’s part of life. Last year I wrote a column about hunting, this year, I have too many other topics to write about so unfortunately there is no time for writing about hunting.
I had a great time writing (and learning) about hunting last year so I thought I would post a link to the story.

Here is the beginning (click on the link after the introduction to read the remaining column):

I've lived in ski towns for the last 10 years. I've known many hunters but have never hunted; and I have never held a gun.
When I lived in Maine there was no hunting on Sunday so I knew I could hike on the trails behind my house and not worry about hunters. Since I moved to Granby, in the fall I hike with my dogs on the trails of SolVista and never even think about hunters since it is private land.

Link to Outdoor enthusiasts should learn about hunting

Writer's Almanac Thursday Oct 7

2010-10-07T09:08:00.001-06:00

Today's Writer's Almanac

2010-10-06T14:18:00.001-06:00

RMNP - Continental Divide Trail Sign

2010-10-05T21:34:00.002-06:00

I promise you this: you will outlive the bastards.- Abbey

2010-10-05T21:31:00.000-06:00

He was one tough bird. Saw this quote and had to post it:

It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it. While you can. While it's still there. So get out there and hunt and fish and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forests, encounter the grizz, climb the mountains, bag the peaks, run the rivers, breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for a while and contemplate the stillness, that lovely, mysterious and awesome space. Enjoy yourselves, keep your brain in the head and your head firmly attached to the body, the body active and alive and I promise you this much: I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies, over those desk-bound people with their hearts in a safe deposit box and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators. I promise you this: you will outlive the bastards.

Ed Abbey

Kristen Lodge: There's a new game warden in town | SkyHiDailyNews.com

2010-09-12T17:39:00.000-06:00

Kristen Lodge: There's a new game warden in town SkyHiDailyNews.com

East Inlet Trailhead in Grand Lake

2010-09-08T18:03:00.002-06:00

Outdoor Adventures: Log bridge gains new footing with Adopt-A-Trail program | SkyHiDailyNews.com

2010-09-06T07:25:00.000-06:00

Outdoor Adventures: Log bridge gains new footing with Adopt-A-Trail program SkyHiDailyNews.com

Directive - Part 1 of 6

2010-08-25T21:29:00.002-06:00

My friend Suzie gave me a skeleton of a book. She told me that I have to write about each image that is tucked into the six sections. I've named the book Directive because she gave me the directive to write it.

When she used the word “directive” I instantly thought of the Robert Frost poem, Directive. A poem that is said to be “ornery and ironic, heartbroken and lyrical”.

Sounds familiar.

Like many of Frost’s poems, it takes place in a wood, close to water and speaks to readers about our destination.

Part 1: A bird cage.

Suzie liked this image of a bird cage because of a story I read at Express Yourself called, Confessions of a Bibliophile where I write about the poet, Paul Lawrence Dunbar. His poem is the title of Maya Angelou’s first autobiography, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.
Sympathy.

I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,

When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore, -

When he beats his bars and he would be free;

It is not a carol of joy or glee,

But a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core ,

But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings-

I know why the caged bird sings!

Back to Frost and Directive.
The poem talks about when we are completely lost may we come to our true selves. Sometimes a walk in the woods is all we need to rejuvenate.

And if you're lost enough to find yourself

By now, pull in your ladder road behind you

And put a sign up CLOSED to all but me.

Rober Frost, Directive

The Sphinx of Sand

2010-08-19T21:44:00.002-06:00

The Sphinx of Sand by Gracie Lodge-McIntire & Kristen Lodge

We saw a Sphinx in the sand
Today at York Beachin Maine
and I said to Gracie,
“Let’s write a poem about it”

Why not?

I answered

with ideas sprouting

The rocks banged against our feet
The sun burned our backs
and the tide came high
and covered the sand

How can I compete
with those rocks that crash to our feet
or the Sphinx of sand
standing so grand?

And now we are home
with sand still on our feet
thinking of the sand and the Sphinx
and will always remember the day at the beach

There is one detail
that can never fail
the Sphinx of sandstanding so grand.

Mountain Biking Idlewild in Winter Park Fraser Colorado

2010-07-29T22:51:00.002-06:00

2010-07-02T13:39:00.001-06:00

June 26 2010 Vasquez Pass Trail Winter Park Colorado

2010-06-23T20:58:00.000-06:00

Tree 1 Tree 2Tree Down right before trailheadTree 3 No Bikes in the Wilderness, ever.My favorite View, about 1/2 mile in

Tree 4

Road Damage on Vasquez Creek Rd, about 1 mile before Vasquez Pass Trail

Snow prevented me from getting to the top

This is the crossing at the beginning of the trail, the bridge is damage and will need replacing.

North Inlet Photos

2010-06-16T08:51:00.000-06:00

It's very hard to see but at the top of the rock hill there is a ginormous marmot. Never saw one so big. I thought they were smaller. He is eating well this spring.

Beautiful horses grazing on land near the North Inlet Trail. I would've taken some photos of the birds I was there to see, but couldn't zoom in enough. I need a better camera.

Tumbleweeds

2010-06-10T21:46:00.001-06:00

My Monday's Writer's Group is always filled with surprises. Sometimes Fran Cassidy makes us write on a subject. Somedays Barbara Belnap comes up with an idea that we should all write about. I haven't adhered to any of their grand schemes, yet. I missed a few Mondays, so when I arrived this week and everyone has written about tumbleweeds, I'm interested to hear where this goes.

I guess it shouldn't surprise me, but it did, when Joan Shaw, author of Mountain I Dos and professional muscian, breaks out a piano in writer's group.

She writes about a song about tumbleweed and we sing the song about tumbleweek to her magical piano. I can't remember the song, but we all sang it. Here's Joan and her "take out" piano.

If you are reading this, you should come to Monday Morning Writer's Group. These writers write the most amazing stories.

And it just wouldn't be a writer's group without Jean Miller's amazing outdoor stories with her ending statement (on EVERY story): it's almost true.

Upper Colorado River Trip

2010-06-08T11:06:00.001-06:00

Here are some photos I took driving out to Radium for the River Trip.

I didn't even feel like I was in Grand County.

Video of the Trip - Thanks Joe.

Sea, Sand, and Sand Pipers

2010-06-01T21:51:00.001-06:00

My last post was about the sound of mountain water, then a few days later I flew to Florida to visit my aunt and uncle.
As soon as I arrived in Florida I was in awe of green. The first day we spent 6 hours at the ocean. I watched the birds and asked Tim what each one was. After the first hour, he stopped answering me.
I wanted to know every bird.
Then as we drove to dinner each night I wanted to know about the trees. What kind of tree is that, Tim?
I loved the flora and fauna of Florida.
I loved the hawks that glided above the house, and the sand pipers that pecked in the sand, the unnamed birds that chirped in the distance. I wanted to know all their names.
I loved the palm trees.
But most of all I love the time I spent with Tim and Nancy and talking about family stories.
These family stories are about the ocean, and distance, and love.

Here, my other favorite sound: The ocean. Enjoy.

The sound of mountain water

2010-05-16T19:11:00.000-06:00

This is the fraser river just as is flows south into downtown Fraser. I love the sound of mountain water.

Yes, it's really spring in the Rocky Mountains

2010-05-12T08:04:00.000-06:00

An overnight Spring Snow Storm has blanketed the valley. It’s really beautiful now that the sun has come out. There is about four inches around my house. On this morning’s walk with the dogs I realized that it’s okay there is snow; we need the moisture.

Yesterday I ordered new bike clothes: Jerseys and Bike Shorts, and am eager to get out on road and mountain bike. Yesterday I rode around Pole Creek Golf Club for this week’s column. It’s a gorgeous course and although I don’t golf, I enjoyed riding around the meadows, and seeing a part of the county I’ve never seen. The willows were beautiful around Pole Creek. It reminded me of a Marjorie Cranston painting of willows and how dramatically colorful they can be. I never noticed all the different shades of orange and red they really were until after I saw her painting.

Here’s what this morning looks like:

Hopefully it will all melt by the end of the day and create some good flowing creeks and streams for the dogs to play in and get all muddy.

May 10, 2010 Rocks

2010-05-10T19:48:00.000-06:00

Hiking with Views of the Continental Divide

2010-05-09T10:36:00.001-06:00

I wrote in one of my outdoor columns this month that I'm inspired by the Continental Divide. The last two mornings I've been hiking straight up the mountain behind my house to a spot where I can look down into the Fraser Canyon and up to the Continental Divide.

Here is Abbey looking down at the train coming through at the exact time we arrived at the spot. If she was a few years younger I bet she would've run straight down to it.
It was a beautiful morning and I sat at watch the Fraser River flow; I could hear it too.

Daisy loves running around up here; all the wonderful scents of critters. This early there is no one around and Daisy just runs and runs. I love watching her.

She is such a good looking dog.

I also love just watching the sun rise over the mountains in the morning; and that this is in my backyard.

Bernard DeVoto

2010-05-08T07:59:00.001-06:00

Bernard DeVoto writes in his essay Footnotes on the West that art, literature, and life are all bound to the seasons. True. True.

DeVoto is not as well known as other writers who write passionately about conservation, The West, and public lands. I read Stegner’s biography, The UnEasy Chair fifteen years ago when I was reading everything Stegner wrote, but didn’t really remember much of it.

I read an old article in the August 08, 1994 issue of High Country News about DeVoto and how the FBI investigated him most of his adult life because he was so outspoken in the 30s and 40s; specifically writing an essay about “government spying, Red-baiting, blacklisting and Communist witch hunts that swept across America after World War II.”

So now I’m reading DeVoto’s West – History, Conservation, and the Public Good which is a compilation of some of his essays edited by Edward K. Muller. This is a good book. It’s interesting to think about how his writings in mainstream newspapers and magazine in the east really changed public opinion about how to manage western lands. He convinced many politians that western public lands need to be managed by the federal government to ensure the they were not sold to public interests. We would, for sure, have a different west, if not for his voice.

Snow still in April

2010-04-30T16:50:00.001-06:00

We walk through the woods and trails; the fresh, late spring storm has blanketed the trails again. Suddenly Abbey, the nine year old dog, is acting like a two year old puppy. She follows a smell back and forth, then I see the grey-white hare, jumping along; it must be old, too, because Daisy would’ve caught it for the speed.

I call Abbey back and her hind legs are shaking. She has that sad puppy-dog look that Labradors have and then sits. She never sits on a walk. She starts licking her front leg over and over. After nine years with this dog, I know what this means – she going to puke.

And she does.

I don’t mind this snow at the end of April. I wish it was warmer so I could bike but I don’t have any upcoming triathlons or bike races so I’m okay with it all. It’s actually quite beautiful out.

Thoughts on attending the AWP Writers Conference in Denver – April 2010

2010-04-17T21:34:00.007-06:00

I attended the three day conference, going to every panel that had anything to do with landscape, place, western writing.

landscape, place, western writing – These words mean everything to me. As an easterner, wanting to write about the west that I love, I need to know and understand what it means to live and be western. I learned so much about things I needed to know.

I wonder when this need, this desire, to know about the west started.

I awake in the middle of the night: It started in 8th grade social studies class. The class was assigned Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee: Mr. Stevens social studies class at Rye Junior High. It was 1984, the year I moved from Plattsburgh, New York to Rye, New Hampshire.

In New York I was not a good student. I cared more about my friends and boys. I didn’t do homework and didn’t care about school. Months before leaving, I brought home a kitten and thought I could hide it from my parents. The first night I had the kitten, it was more important to go to a high school football game with my friends than to try to keep the kitten hidden in my closet.

That night is now in the family story archive and still makes me cringe when family members bring it up. I got all C’s on my report card and a C- in Mr. Burdeau’s social studies class.

Moving was a chance to start over. I decided that I wanted to be smart, and learn, and go to college. I got to prove myself when I got the first reading assignment - Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee.

I was completely enthralled by Mr. Stevens and history; western history, Native American History. I got an A-. I couldn’t stop reading about the Native Americans, about mountain men, and the pioneers. That is how it started.

Every morning and afternoon I walked one mile to the conference in downtown Denver. The first morning I walked defensively, the way a woman, alone, is taught to walk in a city. Be aware of people. Be aware of your surroundings. Be on guard. After nine hours of listening to writers talk about writing, I walked back to my hotel differently. I thought about the writers, academia, of publishing books. I dreamed of being a presenter and encouraging other writers, like the writers did for me today.

I walked past the South Platte River, past the rail yards, and noticed a bird flying down from the bridge to the river. I couldn’t identify the bird and wished that I could. I fell asleep that night as the trains rumbled in the distance thinking about the writing life.

The next morning I walked the same path, past the sun blaring through iron fencing, and Coors Field. The Burlington Northern Santa Fe trains causing the bridge to vibrate. I thought about everything. I wondered what will happen when I’m away from this landscape, and the west. I wondered what my life would be like without the aridity, mountains, and trains. I realized, that morning, in the city, I am in love with this land and with the stories from this place.

I am drawn to people who live in hard-to-live places. I want to know the stories of their failures and successes. I want to write the stories of survival and loss and these stories will take place in a landscape of sagebrush and tumbleweed.

That day, I also learned that who I am and where I live means everything.

In a panel celebrating the writing contributions of William Kittredge, Rick Bass said to us, and him:

“You’ve never forgotten where you come from”
“You’ve make a generation think harder, deeper of what it means to be a westerner.”

I learned to write authentic stuff of where you are.

It was three great days.

The Way It Is - William Stafford

2010-04-11T20:30:00.003-06:00

Kim Stafford talked about his father and writing his father's biography, Early Morning: Remembering My Father, William Stafford. He mentions his father's Poem, The Way It Is. This is the poem that helped him, as he constantly revised the structure (and table of contents) of the book.

The Way It Is

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.

~ William Stafford ~

Kim Stafford told us during the panel "writing biography" at the AWP conference, about his father's advice about writing: "Do the thing that is most alive." I take this to mean this is what we as writers, should write about. I will do this.

NH Video

2010-04-06T18:03:00.001-06:00

Dirt Roads and Fame

2010-04-05T18:26:00.000-06:00

I’ve been watching the TV show Fame the last few nights. I remember watching it as a kid every week. I just loved watching the dancing and acting but I don’t remember ever wanting to be a dancer or an actor; but loved the show.

When I think back to being a kid, I never had a clear picture of what I wanted to do with my life. I watched a lot of TV and I read a lot of books. I’m jealous of the people who knew in high school exactly what they wanted to be. In high school I like sports, played some and watched basketball, football and hockey on TV. I think I wanted to be an athletic trainer at some point but I didn’t have the passion that the characters in Fame had.

Watching it now, I feel the desire to be someone and do something, like they had to be dancers and actors. I’m almost 40 and I finally have a feeling of what I want to be and how I see myself in the future.

My aunt Nancy told me on her visit last year that I’m more assertive than I’ve ever been. I don’t think I ever saw a path for myself until now. Now that I have my direction, I ask for what I want and do what I want more than ever.

I’m finally taking the advice I’ve shelled out for years: no one is going to take care of you other than you.

I want to write. I want to tell stories.

Today in writer’s group I read my story, Dirt Roads, about living on the dirt roads in Killington Vermont and all the people I met; and about runaway dogs. My fellow writers told me they loved the description of dirt on the dashboard and the characters on the dirt road. I love telling stories about Vermont. It’s was such a difficult time but I have two lifelong friends; this is my story of how they became my friends.

I hope a literary magazine will say yes to it.

The (outdoor) Writing Life

2010-03-29T23:45:00.001-06:00

I love this writing life. The best part of writing stories; fiction and creative nonfiction, I get to live my life twice. When I wrote last week’s column about fishing I spent hours thinking and writing about my family summer vacations as a kid. Much of what I thought about and wrote didn’t make it into the final version, however, I called my sister and brother to ask what they remembered about summer vacations and lack of fishing on these vacations.

The story I’ve been working on for the last few weeks and sending to a few magazines is Steamboat Stories. I read it in Writer’s Group today and love remembering these stories from one of the years I lived in Steamboat Springs: skiing with friends and Olympians, closing day at the mountain and getting silly (skiing with a backpack filled with beer, who does this?). I only remember the good times.

I vaguely remember the bad or difficult times for these stories. Maybe I’ll use them in a fiction novel when I’m old and bitter; not there yet.

Writing is hard and it doesn’t pay the mortgage. It’s okay. Tomorrow I’ll be at it again, writing as much as I can squeeze in, submitting stories to literary magazines with the hope they will say YES!, and trying to get to work on time.

“Do you know how lucky you are? You're a writer. You get to live life twice. Who else can do that?” Dawson’s Creek (Love this Show)

Steamboat Stories

2010-03-25T17:31:00.001-06:00

An excerpt from Steamboat Stories (a chapter in my book):

“Single?”

I meet Steve in the lift line at Burgess Creek on a sunny January late morning. I don’t hear his question at first but a man with a hat and goggles is looking my direction with the body language of someone asking me something, I just can’t hear what he is saying with my helmet on.

“What?”

“Single?”

I laugh because, yes, indeed, I am single, but what he is really asking is if I want to ride the chairlift with him. There isn't a line of people; in fact, there are no other people around except for the lift attendant.

“Yes, wanna go up together?”

And we do.

The two things I notice about Steve right away: he has an amazing smile and he is not wearing a helmet.

We start typical chairlift talk.

Phase 1: We talk about how our day was going, what trails are good.

Phase 2: We ask each, "Where do you live?"

Phase 3: He lives in Steamboat - I ask how long he has lived here and what he does for work? We try to figure out if we might know each other through mutual friends.

Phase 4: We don't know any of the same people so when he asks my name my first instinct is to make up one. But he is cute and makes me laugh by quoting 80s movies, so I tell the truth.

"I love your work" and Editors

2010-03-22T21:07:00.006-06:00

I’ve read so many books in my day and as someone who hopes to one day publish a book of stories (aka Memoirs) I always pay special attention to the dedication page and the forward and prologue of any book I read.

I always wondered about the over thankfulness to editors. I thought it was over done; over thanked. But now I understand.

I’m getting a story published in an online publication: Whistling Fire. The original story I sent to them called, Making a Home Out West detailing my story from the beginning: moving to a ski town, then another, and another. The editor told me to cut to the chase, don’t tell everything. I started, again, at the end of the beginning.

About editors, I’m thankful to the ones who edit my outdoor column each week at the Sky Hi Daily News. We writers, we think our stories are so interesting, so perfect; but the truth, they always need editing.

So today, I’m thankful for editors. And hopefully one day, an editor in some publishing house will read my query: Continental Quotient, my book of stories about living in mountain towns, and maybe, perhaps, some day, say, we want your book. For all my commas, semicolons, and misplace modifiers, they will still like my work and say that word, all us writers want to hear: Yes.

Fishing Story

2010-03-21T16:08:00.003-06:00

This week I'm writing a story on fishing. I dated a man who fished. I would row or paddle us out to the center of Mount Blue Pond in Maine and he would fish. I liked the exercise of rowing and paddling, however, I didn't like being quiet and burning to a crisp in the sun while said boyfriend, fished.

There wasn't anything really fun about it. But after talking to the Dale and Tami Casteel at Beacon's Landing on Lake Granby, I might try fishing this year.

The fun part about writing this week's column is the research. It also makes me want to know why I didn't grow up fishing. I talked to my brother and aunt about fishing when we were kids. I never did it and I don't know why. I'm going to keep digging and hopefully a story will emerge.

I love remembering. I love talking about family vacations and what I did as a kid. My brother told me a story today about how he and his friend Justin would fish from the concrete pier on Lake Champlain in Plattsburgh where we lived until I was 13. Just by his quick mention of that pier reminds me of so many family stories, memories of that lake where we swam; and it was just a mile down the road from our house. How lucky we were to live on a lake. I remember a life guard carrying a girl out of the water when she cut her foot on ice. Oh, the drama of that day.
Jason isn't a fisherman despite a few days fishing with our grandfather and some fishing trips with friends when he lived in Maryland. He's a beach person. So is my sister.

I never fished. I don't think I ever held a fishing pole in my hand.

But now I want to try it. When I lived in Steamboat and would tube down the Yampa River with friends, I was always amazed at the women flyfishermen we would float past. I could be a flyfisher-woman. I might just get my fishing license this year.