Chill Long Weekend

My husband and I decided to spend the 4th of July weekend at Big Creek. Not to go backpacking as we usually do, but just to hang out. Spending the night over 5000 feet elevation is a good way to get acclimated to hiking in higher altitudes, so we would be getting some "work" done, but the overall goal was to relax. 

The prior weekend, I'd taken my niece out camping and backpacking. That was a super fun trip, but it was also very tiring for me. Not only was I leading a trip (which I've done before), I was also shepherding someone who had never done anything quite like this before. Even though she's camped before, the campsites she's been at are not like the remote ones that I took her to in Idaho. 

And so I was ready for a break. A time when I didn't have to take on all the responsibilities for making sure camp was running smoothly. A time when I didn't need to drive OR cook! 

I was still in charge of setting up the tent, but it's different when I don't have to drive AND set up the tent. Though we didn't even do a tent on Friday night, when we stopped at the Trout Creek campground so we wouldn't have to finish the drive to Big Creek in the dark. I was in charge of spreading out the tarp and laying out the car camping sleeping pads for that stop. 

We had made reservations for one dinner at Big Creek, on Saturday night. I am so glad we only did one night for dinner, because dinners at the Big Creek Lodge are generous and I am simply not used to eating that much at once. We ended up saving a big chunk of food (I may have eaten more dinner than Ambrose...). The thought was that we'd eat it overnight, but the nights were only like 50 degrees. Nowhere near cold enough to need such a substantial midnight snack. We ended up eating our leftovers for dinner on Sunday, so that worked out. 

On Sunday morning, we drove out along Smith Creek Road to see if we could make it to the cutoff trail. Well, we wouldn't have been able to if two guests at the lodge hadn't come driving up in their side by side. They had a chainsaw! So when logs were across the road, they got that machine going and Ambrose and I helped move the logs once they were cut. It was kind of fun. I guess we really ought to invest in a chainsaw soon. 

Once we made it to the cutoff trail, Ambrose and I hiked up it to check out the Werdenhoff Mine. We've hiked up there before, but always with heavy packs, so we hadn't taken the time to look around before. It was pretty neat to see all that old machinery. The cutoff trail was in pretty good shape. I counted six downed trees, and only one was hard to get around. 

That took us the entire morning, and then we hung out for the afternoon, just relaxing as the weather threatened more rain. Monday morning, we got breakfast and drove home. All in all, a very relaxing weekend. Even the traffic on the way home wasn't bad, just a bit of a snag at Cascade where the main road was occupied by a parade. 

Travel Craziness

Last week, I went on a business trip. It was my first business trip since the pandemic started, and I was a bit nervous at the start. I knew that I was going to wear my mask on the plane and in the airport and just as much as possible. Maybe the COVID risks aren't that high, but "conference crud" has been a thing since before the pandemic, and I had things to do this week that I wanted to be well for. 

The travel started off well enough. The flight from Boise to Salt Lake was short and uneventful. The next flight to the destination was delayed, but not too long. It actually made the layover better, because there was time to get food without worrying about missing the connection. Again, an uneventful flight, though quite a bit longer all the way through to Nashville. 

Easy enough to check in to the hotel, and I then walked over to a nearby Whole Foods to get some snacks and a dinner. I could have gone to a restaurant for dinner, but it's a lot harder to know exactly what ingredients are in foods at a restaurant. It's just easier to buy a frozen meal. Plus, I got a popsicle for the walk back to the hotel, which was a fabulous idea if I do say so myself. 

The conference itself was good, and I learned a bunch. Departure was early Saturday morning, and it taught me something else entirely. 

See, the flight left at 5:25 am Saturday morning. Two hours before that would be 3:25, but the security line in Nashville doesn't open until 4 am, so the planned departure from the hotel was set for 3:15 in the AM. I tried to go to bed a little after 9, hoping I would get some 4 to 5 hours of sleep. Instead, I woke up just before midnight and couldn't get back to sleep. 

I tried, I really did. But I ended up being wakeful until after 2 am. I did doze off enough to miss my 2:35 am alarm, but the 2:45 am alarm got me up. I ate some cut watermelon I'd gotten from Whole Foods and got dressed. I didn't bother with a shower, just double checked everything was packed and left a tip for housekeeping. 

I was done before 3:15, but I was still second to last to arrive of my group. We got in an Uber, made it to the airport where I then had to wait in line to check my bag. Then security - where I had to go through twice because I forgot to drink the last of the water in my bottle. I blame that on the Uber - it was a tight fit for 5 passengers plus luggage, and instead of drinking my water, I had to use my elbows to keep other people's luggage from braining me. 

But we made it through and got on the short flight to Atlanta. Yes, Atlanta. Because why not go south and east when your destination is north and west? That's where things started to fall apart. Our flight's departure was delayed 50 minutes, and then 10 more. Then we sat on the tarmac after boarding for another 10 to 20 minutes. Our layover at Salt Lake was already going to be tight, but the pilot assured us that they would make up time in the air. 

Ha!

They may have made up time in the air, but it wasn't enough for us. When we neared Salt Lake, one of the flight attendants tried to help folks with tight connections by announcing said connections and having people raise their hands, something they don't typically do. Several destinations were announced, but not Boise. No, we had already missed our flight. 

Two of my party got rebooked on a flight later that day to Boise. Two got booked over to San Francisco to spend the night and then get to Boise in the morning. I got rebooked to fly into Seattle the next day and then Boise that afternoon. This was not acceptable. 

After a very long wait in the customer service line, I got onto standby for the same day flight to Boise, as did my fellow travelers who had not been automatically rebooked for it. We ate lunch and then went to stand by and see if there would be any room on the flight for us. I saw my name up on the board as being on standby - a first for me. But my fellow travelers were not on the board and were starting to be resigned to a night in Salt Lake or a return trip to the customer service line. 

But in the end, there was room for all of us. I even got to sit next to one of my party in the row right behind first class with more leg room than I could possibly use. The seat felt like how I remember airplane seats being in my youth, much wider than the economy seats are nowadays. It was tolerable, and I even managed to doze on the flight. 

Even with my toes pointed, I couldn't touch the seat in front of me.

It was an absolutely draining, incredibly long day. It's one thing if you've got a flight and it just has a lot of layovers or will take a long time. It's a different thing if you're running on less than 3 hours sleep and don't know when or whether you'll get home. I'm really hoping my next flight has nowhere near this level of insanity - at the very least, I'll be protesting any attempt to book me on a flight before 6 in the morning... 

Traveling

I've been very focused at work the last few work days. I am taking some time off, and I wanted to make sure a couple of projects that I'd started last week got finished before I left. Sure, I'll only be gone a week, but I can't go live with a new process the literal day before I leave. That would be totally rude to my team, because if I forgot some step, then they will have to deal with the fallout without me there to let them know I just forgot to cross the t or something simple like that. 

My team is capable of handling the normal day to day when I'm out. I mean, I take vacations every summer, so I know they've got it. I might be freaking out a bit because I'm nervous about taking a flight. It was almost this time last year exactly that I was going to be headed to a conference for work, and then swinging by my childhood hometown to visit family. 

Covid, of course, changed all that. There was no conference, and I certainly wasn't going to fly anywhere. 

I don't really like flying in general, because of the people. Give me an open wilderness over an enclosed metal tube any day. Most people are fine, I'm sure, but there are many who wear strong perfumes and that irritates me. Or they want to talk to me when I've got my headphones on in a clear signal of "introvert trying to pretend they are not stuck in a metal tube with strangers." Or they are crying babies. 

Actually, no, I'm okay with crying babies. They are irritating, but they can't help it. Not like those bros who douse themselves in Ax body spray before getting into an enclosed metal tube! Though, to be fair, at least they showered? I once had to sit next to a guy who clearly had NOT showered for quite some time, and it was pretty unpleasant. I know that I stink after a backpacking trip, and I would never get on a commercial flight without some attempt at washing first. 

In fact, that fits in with my plan to backpack Hawai'i someday - fly in, stay a night at a hostel, backpack a week, then another night at a hostel for showering before flying home. I've heard there are no mosquitos there, and I like that! 

Usually, when I go on a trip, I have a plan. An itinerary. Goals for the day and events to attend. This time, I have no plan. Except for staying with my brother, that was planned. But other than that, and a dance recital on Friday night, I have no idea what I'll be doing with myself for a whole week. It's a little unnerving for me. After all, I did get the trail name Task Master for a reason - I am all about the plan! 

It will be good for me to just go with the flow. I managed to avoid overthinking about what-ifs for the trip - most likely because I was so focused on wrapping up those few things at work. It's a good thing my job keeps me from getting bored.

Driving in Idaho

After my solo trip, Ambrose and I drove from Big Creek, ID to Elk City, ID by way of McCall, Riggins and Grangeville. I took a few pictures, though I didn't get really into it until we started driving on Idaho route 14. 

We stopped at this rest area to make some lunch and take a break from driving.

I was quite surprised to find a pay phone here.

50 cents for a phone call - I did check for dial tone, but it was really staticky.

We saw a lot of people having fun in the river as we drove on 14.

There's some serious low clearance on this road.

The river kept getting shallower, but still beautiful.

No need to worry about clearance with this rock.

The trees were getting lower - almost to Elk City.

No more river views/ 

Approaching Elk City, ID.

We had to slow down a bit.

They  have a tank.

French Gulch campsite, outside of Elk City on the way to the Magruder Corridor.

I really enjoyed driving around Idaho, and I was glad to see more of the state than just the Boise area. After we made it to Dry Saddle on the Magruder Corridor, we ended up continuing the road trip with a drive to Lewiston, ID, and then on to Clarkston and ended up going home by way of Oregon, stopping to camp at Woodland campsite in that state.

Travel to the ONP

Last time my husband and I went to the Olympic National Park for a hike along the coast, we drove to Forks, WA, where we would start the trip from, in one day. The next day, we drove to Port Angeles, WA to pick up our permit and then back. About an hour drive each way. This time, we chose to do things a little differently.

We took two days to travel, even though the drive can be done in one. We spent a night in Yakima, WA. I got a hotel room through Priceline (which actually books hotel rooms through booking.com). It was a cheap one, and I'm pretty sure that's how my credit card number got stolen.

But it was nice to take our time on the way. We got to drive all in daylight and see the landscape that we were driving through. I'm pretty sure I saw a mountain lion on the side of the road. It looked like it had been hit and was just getting up, but only its front legs were working. We drove by so quickly I can't be completely sure I saw it, but I think I did.

It was nice to stop for the day in the early afternoon. Although, for some reason, the hotel didn't have our confirmation. So the clerk gave me a number to call. But it was the wrong number. The Travelocity guy kindly transferred me to the booking.com people, who, after much conversation, finally resent the confirmation to the hotel and we got a room.

It was a horrible room. I mean. It was pretty much what we paid for. It was cheap. So cheap that there were holes in the floor, stains on the walls and the beds were pretty gnarly. But we made do and there was a good restaurant less than a block away where we got a yummy dinner. I slept alright that night, and we left bright and early the next morning and drove to the Wilderness Information Center in Port Angeles.

At Port Angeles, we got our permit, adding another night to it, because Ambrose had thought we didn't need the permit for camping near Hole in the Wall, but the ranger corrected that assumption. Since we were doing so many nights, we had purchased a yearly pass instead of paying by the night. That allowed us to add another night without paying extra. Totally worth it.

From there, we drove over to Forks and got a campsite at the Riverview RV Park. We got set up there and waited for the third member of our party to arrive. On this trip, we were hiking with a man Ambrose had met through an online backpacking forum. Bill also lives in Idaho, but in the north. This would be his first trip on the coast.

After some packing and repacking of our required bear canisters, we did some driving around the area. We stopped in La Push and took a walk around First Beach. Then dinner and back to the campsite for the night. The next day was really just a matter of waiting for the tide to be right for starting the hike.

Ambrose, Bill and I on First Beach.

First Beach

Chicago Visit

I got to see a Blackhawks game! Thanks, Dad!

There are no Dunkin' Donuts in Idaho. I missed them. 

A whole store of Nutella... there was a line coming out the door.

I got excited by weird things in the grocery store - like this barrel of pickles. 

And also how the candy shelves at the checkout have their own lights.

It was very rainy.

I got my kolacky fix. I swear, if someone would just start making these in Idaho, they'd catch on. 

We got to see the Daily Show Undesked! Again, thanks Dad and also thank you to John Schmitz.

I did not take great pictures of the experience.

I blame my camera phone.

I circled us in the audience. Ambrose's hair definitely sticks out in the crowd. 

There's that hair again - my kind of blends into the darkness. 

That one's a bit clearer :) What an incredible experience!

My dad told my husband that his cat wouldn't drink water out of her bowl. Proof! Coco can and does drink water out of her bowl. 

Been Traveling

Well, I've spent the last week in Chicago and the suburbs thereof. It was good to visit family and have them meet my husband at last. More later.

Do I Get My Idaho Card?

I have lived in Idaho for over 10 years now, and have been visiting it since 2003.

But it is only this past weekend that I finally had an experience that made me feel like a true resident of this rustic western state.

Many years ago, I had a brief job working at Warm Lake Lodge, a facility established on the shore of Warm Lake in 1911. I cleaned cabins for all of a week and a half before I had to return to Boise in an ambulance after a nasty case of either a 24 hour flu or food poisoning. When I worked there, I had a supervisor, naturally.

I thought, when I thought about her, that she would still be working there.

Last week, my husband and I were driving back from the parking lot at the trailhead of Big Creek, on the edge of the Frank Church River of No Return Wilderness. We stopped at the city of Yellow Pine, a thriving area boasting a population of 32 and at least 5 eateries. We ate breakfast at the Silver Dollar Grill and then went to the espresso shop for milkshakes (it was almost noon and we had a long drive coming up).

Inside the espresso place, there were three young women and one woman behind the counter. I asked about taking cards and we learned to our dismay that they did not. Luckily, I had a bit of cash, just enough for one milkshake. So I left Ambrose in the car and went inside.

Now, I thought that I heard one of the young women call the woman "Sundee" but I wasn't entirely sure. So I stood there in silence as she made me a strawberry milkshake. But then I noticed a collage photo near the cash register; it had some cute pictures and was labeled "Martin 2016."

So I had to ask if she was Sundee Martin who used to work at Warm Lake Lodge, and who, for a brief time, supervised me.

She remembered me, too, and came around the counter to give me a hug.

And I left with a delightful milkshake and a big grin. Because I found someone that I knew, in the smallest of towns, who I met in a place not even big enough to be a town.

Not only did I get to see that someone I knew was doing well, but somehow the meeting struck me as such a quintessential Idaho experience and made the state feel more like my home.

Story Inspiration

There was a service dog on the flight I took from Boise to Seattle for my conference earlier this month. I had seen the dog, and its owner, earlier in the airport, but I had no idea that the dog was going to be on my flight until I found my seat and saw him splayed all over the space where my feet belonged.

His owner cajoled him out of the space where I needed to put my feet, and I thanked her, but I am allergic to dogs. Not so much that I couldn't be on a flight with a dog, but enough that I didn't want to be sitting next to one. If I get fur on me, there's a good chance of itchiness to follow. So I told her I'd asked to be moved.

But then I saw my co-worker enter the aisle of the aircraft. I walked up to her and asked if she would switch seats with me, explaining dog, explaining allergy. She agreed and went to the back of the plane, where, while it was loud, she had a pleasant flight chatting with the dog's owner, who turned out to be military.

I sat in her seat, closer to the front, but not much less noisy. We were, after all, in one of those puddle jumper planes- not a prop plane, like we'd get on the way back but a small jet nonetheless. Noise permeated the space, but I didn't care. My focus was drawn inexorably by my nose, which could not help but inhale the disgusting combination of stale cigarette smoke, unwashed body and moldering clothing (that smell that clothes get when they're left in the washing machine for too long after it's done, a nasty, nose pinching foulness).

I tried using the air vent above me to keep my nose awash in freshness to limited effect. I tried burying my nose in my coat, in the collar of my shirt, but that was not very effective and a bit too obvious. I mean, did this guy know how he smelled? Did he mean to smell that way? Maybe he's down on his luck. Maybe this was his cleanest set of clothing. Maybe... I don't care. When spending an hour jammed into a very small metal tube with fifty other people is on your agenda, you should think about not being stinky.

But, I actually have to thank this anonymous smelly guy. Because I was driven to distract myself by any means necessary, and the means that I landed on was writing. I began to write a story on my phone about a character in an airplane, sitting next to a very smelly person. From that point the experience of the character and I diverged. I landed in Seattle without any other events. I have not yet figured out exactly where my character is landing, but I'm going to find out.

View from a Hotel Window: Seattle

This post is late. I'm going to back date it to Wednesday, but this post is late. Sure, I have an excuse. I was so busy trying to get my homework done before I left on a business trip that I neglected to preset my blog entries. And of course, at the conference itself, there wasn't time to do much of anything other than work, network and "network." Here is the view from my hotel window in downtown Seattle, three blocks from the Washington State Convention Center: 

 And here is the view from the inside of one of the toilet stalls at the WSCC:

I'm still undecided whether that little sign is uplifting or creepy. 

A Room of One's Own

First of all, I know this isn't Wednesday, but I am still going to count this as a post in the current week. I should have planned better, knowing that I would be out of town and busy this past week, but I didn't.

I attended a conference this past week, from Sunday to Wednesday, a whirlwind of sessions, networking and socializing. And, for the first time that I've attended, for a brief time, I had a hope of spending the conference with my very own room.

It is the policy of my workplace, or rather, the particular section of my workplace in which I work, that rooms are shared for travel. And so, the previous years that I have attended, I have shared a room with my boss.

We both find this situation to border on the unprofessional, but we have managed to share a room with minimal discomfort. But this year, she planned on bringing her family to the conference, and so work was going to have to pay for me to have my very own room.

But that plan was foiled by another department having an odd number of female employees going to the conference. While apologetic, my new roommate let me know that she was told in no uncertain terms by her bosses that she had better find someone to share the cost of the room.

And so, the room of my own became the room to be shared with - not a stranger, but someone that I worked only tangentially with, someone I had before felt socially awkward around, socially awkward being a default state for me. In previous years, such a situation might have been a great cause for anxiety for me before the conference, but this year I was presenting one mini session and co-presenting another one. My nerves were focused on those.

And it was a good thing that I didn't spend time on worrying about sharing the room. It was, in my opinion, the least awkward that it could have been. I got to know a co-worker a little better. I had a workout buddy for Monday morning. There had been nothing to worry about.

And, for once, I hadn't worried about it.

Some Fine Pictures

This August my husband and I traveled to South Carolina to visit with his parents. The day after we arrived in South Carolina, we all drove to North Carolina to visit additional family and participate in some family traditions and celebrations. These photos are from the first two days of the trip, not including all the lovely people I met (and Ambrose reunited with). 

As we hit the road from South Carolina to North Carolina, we stopped at a roadside stand for some freshly boiled peanuts. 

Now, I'd had "boiled peanuts" from the Saturday Market in Boise before, but these were in an entirely different league. Where the peanuts from Boise had a bit of crunch to them, these were more like beans.

See, I could smush them like a well-cooked bean in my fingers. They were also saltier than the peanuts that I'd had before, and that was a good thing. 

We were going to North Carolina, from South Carolina, so of course we went by way of Tennessee..

Ambrose at a scenic overlook in Tennessee.

Me, being more awesome at the same overlook. (That's my wall now. Actually, no, it isn't. It smelled like someone peed on it. But the view was great.) 

It's hard to see in this picture, but this sign was just around a hairpin turn, and was followed immediately by another. Did I mention I discovered a new propensity for car sickness on this trip? 

The Smoky Mountains in the morning. 

A green view from the Blue Ridge Parkway. 

Ambrose and his Dad on Grandfather Mountain, before the swinging bridge.

View from Grandfather Mountain.

Grandfather Mountain actually provides a volunteer at this bridge who takes photos for people, which is how this picture contains me, Ambrose and his Dad all at the same time. 

Personally, I think calling the bridge a mile-high swinging bridge is a bit disingenuous - sure, the elevation is technically one mile above sea level, but it isn't as if the drop below the bridge is anywhere near that high. 

Ambrose and I on Grandfather Mountain - after his Dad figured out how to use our camera :)

The USGS benchmark on Grandfather Mountain. Yes, I think this is neat. I'm a mountain geek.

The swinging bridge, with the peak of Grandfather Mountain in the background. Part of me wanted to climb to the peak, but more of me still felt too carsick. And I didn't have my hiking boots.

I found out inside the museum that this flower is endangered. But I forgot what it's called. 

The drive down from the swinging bridge is not for the faint of heart. 

Also not for those lacking well-maintained brakes. . .

The mountain has wildlife habitats. We didn't get to see the deer or the big cats, but the otters did come out after a few minutes of waiting. 

I could have watched the otters play for a long time. So cute!

The eagles were also out, but not playing. They looked like we were all there on their sufferance - go ahead, tourists, take pictures - we all know who's in charge here.

The bears were a bit more lively.

Probably because it was getting close to their feeding time. . . 

It might not have been while backpacking, but hey, a bear encounter's a bear encounter, right? I mean, just because this bear was in an enclosure, patiently waiting to be fed while a crowd gathered doesn't mean it isn't capable of going on a rampage and killing all humans...

According to my tour guide (Ambrose's Dad), the land for this road was sold on the condition that the road builders did not mess up the land. This architectural challenge resulted in sections of road like this, where columns support the road above nature's splendor. And yes, because the road is so curvy, we were on the same road I photographed. 

We came across this sign on the way away from Grandfather Mountain.

This is the Appalachian Trail. With me standing on it. For that, as well as the friendly and hospitable people I met, I plan to come back to North Carolina. 

Ambrose on the Appalachian Trail. That section is his now.