Camper's Log: July 2006

Somebody stop the summer clock already! Slow it down atleast. Its ironic (in an Alanis Morrissette sort of way) that as the days become longer they tend to feel shorter. And lately, days have been passing by as quickly as aggressive drivers on the Connector. Its high time someone cracks down on this behavior. This whole Time thing. Really, its getting ridiculous.

Like, I haven't found the time to tell you about how a week ago Jennifer and I were cramming various camping supplies into the back seat of her Corrola so that she could see out the rear window on the drive to Upper Payette Lake. The effort was made more challenging by the presence of nearly every piece of bedding I own. I've been meaning to tell you that we stopped at Fred Meyer to load up on the groceries we would need for the weekend's camping trip. (We'd later discover that the creative theme to our weekend's menu was "sloppy") But first I wanted to tell you about how we obtained our requisit road trip mocha's from the Flying M on Friday morning before heading north. What I haven't had the time to say doesn't consist of a story-its just the facts. A camper's log, so to speak. First though, the mochas:

This time of year, with these kinds of temperatures (100+-), the iced mocha is usually preferred over the hotter version. Upon sipping an iced mocha, one realizes the utility of the heat missing from the drink. Mochas, both hot and cold, are so delicious that without some built in mechanism to slow their consumption, it is entirely possible, and more than likely, that a serving could be finished off in less than 3 minutes. Thus, the heat. And, why on Friday morning, Fern and I chose mochas that would exist long enough to get us to Horseshoe Bend, where we'd find other things to consume.

Over the short time it took to drive to Horseshoe Bend, the temperature must have risen ten degrees outside. And it seemed as though everyone in that one horseshoe town had a craving for Subway, because the Chevron that housed the lil' sandwhich shop was beyond full capacity soon after we arrived. Kids were sitting on the floor next to the Slim Jims and fig bars, eating their sandwhiches. For lack of seating, Fern and I were forced to share shade with strangers outside on a bench while we ate our mayonnaisey lunch.

The drive north afterwards was pleasant and scenic and not too scary. The music that I carefully selected for the trip included Built to Spill's new album You in Reverse, Iron and Wine, Noe Venable, Death Cab for Cutie's Plans, and a Belle and Sebastian album. Fern also brought Belle and Sebastian, as well as the Beastie Boys, the Shins (I think), and several other discs. So, for much of the trip I enjoyed listening to music, studying the new Idaho Gazateer I purchased at Fred Meyer, and making sure Fern saw every cool or odd thing I saw along the way.

The last several miles of the drive to Upper Payette Lake took place on a perfect piece of asphalt that snaked through the forest, past expensive properties alongside Payette Lake, and paralleled a mellow stream. Soon after arriving at our destination, we located a campsite which overlooked the pristine, sparkling lake. Quickly, we set up camp. During the endeavor, we made first contact with wildlife of the region. We spied a large deer standing majestically in the woods. Also, we became intimately familiar with more than one of the area's flying insects. The mosquitos were not the worste I've ever experienced, but they were definately out in force. Next, we stretched out our legs by walking almost halfway around the lake via a dirt road. At the end of the road we came upon a trail which Fern informed me is a part of her dad's morning coffee hike whenever he and Mary (and, on occasion, the family) camp at the Upper Payette. It was a beautiful part of the hike for sure, as the wide trail meandered right alongside the lake shore, through various interesting and pretty flora.

By the time we approached the area where we expected to find our campsite, we were very ready to be done walking. We had covered 3-5 miles already, and I personally was looking forward to a nice sit in my camp chair. Yet as we walked along the dirt road we came upon a maintained campground that we knew was past our own site. Somehow we hadn't seen our camp and had walked well past it. So, weary and dragging our feet, we backtracked another half mile to stand in amazement at the sight which we didn't see before--our camp, including tent and car, sitting behind a few skinny trees, just waiting for the return of its residence.

We plopped down in our chairs, relaxed a bit, cleaned up a bit, and headed out on a small bike ride. We peddled back to the paved road and headed north in order to get a quick look at any dirt roads and trails that looked promising for future bike riding adventures. We turned off on a dirt road that was particularly, um, jostling. At this time; Fern, out of necessity and genius, devised a makeshift brassier which tamed the jostling and made the ride much more doable for her.

Back at camp, Fern and I shared a craving hunger for sustenance. Sticking to our prepared menu, we had chili dogs for supper. Later, as the stars began to appear, we sat around the campfire and sipped wine. (the expert at the Co-op told me that the wine I selected was the perfect complement to chili dogs)

Sleep did happen Friday night and Saturday morning. However, it was one of the hottest nights I've experienced when camping. Because of that, and due to the fact that I had forgotten my inflatable mattress, I was unable to sleep like the baby I sometimes am.

Right. Saturday morning breakfast consisted of Lil Sizzlers n' scrambled eggs, as well as excellent coffee prepared by Fern and her late coffee press-RIP. (the press would break on the last day of the trip) After lounging around for awhile, we jumped in the car and headed to McCall in search of super happy fun time floatation devices. The extemely hot sun and the cool crisp lake got Fern and I excited about playing in the water. In McCall, Pauls "department" store failed to produce the goods we were looking for. -though we both procured a pair of sweet river shoes for 8$. McCall's Rite Aid had the right stuff-inflatables of all shapes and sizes, and all at a fairly decent price. I purshased a thingymajig that you can lay down on (what do you call those?) and Fern bought a donut shaped thinymajig.

The day was getting on by the time we returned to camp, so after a short break we readied ourselves for the big adventure of the weekend-a mountain bike ride to Loon Lake. To hear about that epic ride, and for pictures, go to Fern's blog at http://sidetracked.quellesurprise.com/.
I'll add that the first half of the ride was just about as perfect as a ride could be. It more than made up for the overly technical/scary second half. The wilderness and lake were simply gorgeous. It definately exceeded expectations.

At camp I quickly consumed an ice cold fuzzy navel. Fern and I went down to the lake to clean up as best we could. For some reason, I challenged myself to fully submerge my body in the lake, despite the frigid waters. It took atleast 20-30 minutes, but I was able to become somewhat accustomed to the cold, and gave myself a thorough cleansing.

That night we had sloppy joes for supper.

With my new air mattress, I was able to sleep deeply the night of Saturday evening/Sunday morning. Breakfast consisted of granalo, eggs, and coffee. While Fern was away, a medium sized fox trotted through the campsite, sniffing at things along the way. He didn't seem to care that I was sitting not more than a few yards from him. I kept my eye on the fox as it scavenged around the campsite next to ours. For a moment I sat back down and sipped my coffee. Suddenly, the fox returned, walking right passed me, and jumped onto a large rock located at the edge of camp. At this point, it appeared as though the fox was simply checking me out. I remembered that Fern's camera was in her bag. I grabbed it and prepared to take a picture of the fox on the rock, but a noise caused the it to bolt out of the campsite.

After such a tough day Saturday, Fern and I were both looking forward to a casual, relaxing Sunday spent in camp. So when Fern returned from the bathroom, she knitted while I attempted to start a fire without using matches. I had never done so before, and thought it would be quite the accomplishment if I could. Carefully I gathered everything I thought I'd need. My focus was on planning-finding just the right materials and setting up my working space to be comfortable. My grand plan came to naught when I was unable to keep the spinning stick (attached to a string and bow) steady.

The day became scorching hot. Fern and I made our way to the lake with our inflatables. Despite the frigid water, we were able to float around a bit, explore the shore, throw stones (splash contest), and build a "warming pool" out of large rocks. Feeling accomplished, we broke down camp, packed up the car, and went to McCall for lunch/dinner. We stopped in at McCall's shopping mall where we browsed through a store full of distasteful items for decorating your cabin; and checked out a store full of absolutely freaky insects in display cases, a variety of polished stone items, and colorful framed butterflies. Before leaving McCall, we visited one of Fern's favorite antique stores. It was a large, neat store in which the items on sale were arranged according to color-there was a brown area, a green area, blue, and so on.

The drive back to Boise was nice. In Cascade, I purchased an icy vanilla frepe and took over driving duties from Fern, who was absolutely wiped out from the trip.

And that was last weekend, minus some fun facts about chipmunks and yellow birds and such. I hope you found it informative. Now I've got to get going and do something worth writing about.

Never, never forget your weekends. This, I recently explained to my mom, is extremely important. The moment you get off work Friday (or in my case, Thursday) marks the start of one more opportunity to have as much fun and adventure as you can possibly conceive. The weekend is your chance to demonstrate to the world that you know how to live the good life. Everything you've learned and experienced in life up until the time you step out of the office/shop/classroom/factory/etc on a Friday can now be employed to help you have the time of your life over the next two days. We can be patriotic only on weekends, when real freedom finally exists. Given that three-quarters of our lives is spent working or sleeping; if you live to be 80, you would be justified in thinking that you only really lived for around 20 years. How much you enjoyed your 20 years depends upon how seriously you planned and executed your weekend activities.

Obviously, I'm incapable of composing an introduction to a rather ordinary blog without waxing dramatic. Here's what I did over the weekend. Undoubtedly, it will be anticlimatic after my speech.

Friday morning hung out at the M and wrote 4-5 pages regarding the difference between believing that a god exists who can save your mortal life/soul and believing that a team of doctors do in fact have a donor heart which they can transplant into your body in order to save you from impending heart failure. This was probably the most interesting stuff I've written to date. The analysis led me to conclude that there are many good reasons so many people are "believers", and that to be a believer is not so outrageous or unreasonable after all. This does not change the fact that to me there is clearly a lack of reason for believing....at any rate, I'll post what I wrote on "The Deconstruction..." blog as soon as I have time to.

After the M, me and my bike took a bus to the west side of town where I did some shopping at the Lux and Savors. I managed to find a couple items I was really happy about and a few more a was satisfied with. Unfortunately, one of my favorite items (a white longsleeve cotton shirt) became stained somehow, and an ok item (a vintage red cowboy shirt) was found to have strange spots on it. Both didn't come out after bleaching and washing. boo hoo!

I road my bike back home and proceeded to work out a bit. Next, I sunbathed along side the pool. My tan is coming along nicely; however, this means the tan line below my waist is looking sillier and sillier.

Upon becoming sexified, I met Fern and we had dinner at Bardenay. She had a tunamelt and I had a reuben. Both were to die for...

From there we toodled to Julia Davis Park and threw the poof football around. I had forgotten the smashmitten birdie; so we rode back to the apartment, retrieved it, and smacked the birdie around at Municiple Park.

Finally, we attempted to watch the latest Pirates of the Carribean movie to its completion, but failed because it just would not stop--and I thought it sucked.

Saturday, Fern and I pedaled our road bikes out Hill Road and well west of town on a course Fern has ridden a few times already. I really enjoyed putting a few more miles behind me. It helps that Fern is not at all slow on her bike. We cruised along at a snappy pace throughout the ride.

There wasn't much time to clean up and get over to Jennifer's parent's house, where we were to celebrate her mom's birthday. Fern and I volunteered to pick up everyone's dinner from the Olive Garden. Back at the house I enjoyed my linguini a la marinara with shrimp while chatting with Fern's grandparents, who are both like 100 years old and self supportive-wow!

After the nice birthday party (which included icecream cake), Fern and I went to the mall to do some underwear shopping. Ofcourse, I had to check out shoes and jeans which I can't afford.

Then it was to Barnes n' Nobles to delve into bike magazines for free.

Sunday I worked until 5. That evening Fern made dinner with a couple of amazing seasoned vegetable dishes. We especially liked the cauliflower. When things cooled off enough, we rode to the highschool track field and played smashmitten until we were exhausted. For awhile we rested in the grass and watched the stars slowly reveal themselves.

Weekend Warrior

Oh, I'm already embarrased. This is going to be the shortest posting yet, but I'm committed to making some sort of note regarding my weekends' activities, regardless of whether or not I'm brimming with energy or creativity.
Last Friday, with renewed zest for exploration, I rode my mountain bike in an area just west of Bogus Basin Road-a complex of trails I'd only been on twice in the last 10 years. I felt great riding big-gear/medium-gear intervals up Bogus Basin Road, riding new terrain, being drenched in sweat, and learning future route-possiblities. Back home I rediscovered the usefullness of Google Maps satellite images as I analyzed the terrain I'd just ridden, and memorized the location of nearbye trails I've yet to ride.
Later that day, I hung out with Randy at the Flying M, and later spent time with Fern.
Saturday, Fern picked me up and took me to the M, where we ate our breakfasts of granola and blue berries, and bought Mochas for the road. We drove to Emmett, parked in front of Albertsons, used its facilities to get ready, and set out on our adventurous tour of the Payette River valley. The miles ticked by beneath our wheels. The weather during the first half of the ride was perfect, the rural scenery quite pretty, and traffic sparse. 25 miles and an hour and a half later, we rolled into New Plymouth. In a local market we found the goods necessary for refueling our bodies and continuing our journey. I consumed fig bars, tea w' honey, as well as cheese n' beefstick for the salt. Fern had a Lunchable. After topping off our water and posing for some photos, we returned to rural Idaho roads, this time south of the Payette River on the "orchard" side of the valley. Things heated up a great deal; but as we both proclaimed, it wasn't that bad as long as we kept riding. Our route took us over fun rollercoastery roads, a stretch of gravely canal road, past menacing dogs, and alongside cherry orchards (from which I aquired n' ate a couple ripe n' sweet cherrys). For our viewing pleasure, there were all kinds of colorful cows, horses, goats, lamas, and other four legged creatures off in fields along the way. During the ride I experienced Fern experiencing speeds on her bike that I don't know if she had ever experienced before. At one point, I felt something fly down my jersey. Immediately afterwards I cluched at my jersey in an attempt to capture/crush whatever it was that was stinging me. It turned out to be a wasp. As fun and rad as the ride was, we were just becoming ready to be done as we approached Emmett. Later that day; Eric, Randy, and I went to Buster's to take watch the prologue of the Tour de France. We were there entirely too long (two hours) given the low level of excitement created from a mini time trial. I felt sick upon eating lack-luster hot wings. That evening, I met Fern for a movie at Satchel's. I treated myself to a glass of white wine, and attempted to get into the old movie. Ultimately, I gave into exhaustion, and headed home before the end.