Time To Hit The Slopes…

…but where’s the @%* snow?!?

Here we are – winter. What does that mean? Time to shake the dust off your bibs and check to make sure your ski boots still fit. Mine didn’t. Bummer. I HATE wearing rental boots! Sniff, pew, hack, gag. More on that later…

So we made the hotel reservations at our usual hangout (Best Western Tree House Inn in Mt. Shasta City ROCKS!), shoved every piece of winter wonder toy into the back of the Yukon, loaded up the dog, and headed north. It was Mt. Shasta or bust. Jack was set to try skiing FINALLY! I’ve been trying to force the poor lad into skis since he could walk. I know, I know, but mama wants to go skiing and you can’t always drag someone along to watch him while I’m bellied up to the lodge bar. Sorry, did I write that out loud? Anyway, between skiing, sledding and snowshoeing, we were bound to come back sore and addicted to Motrin. But wait. Isn’t it January? Aren’t we supposed to be drowning in the valley and snowed-in in the mountains? Why am I wearing shorts? Kept our fingers crossed that we’d find more snow the higher we climbed.

Got to the hotel and found barely a layer on the ground. The sun had been shining for so long that what was left was now ice. Makes for a great show when watching everyone trying to walk to their cars, but not great when you’re the one attempting to unload the truck. I could SWEAR we didn’t pack that much. Must have been breeding while we were underway. Time to attempt a good night’s sleep to ready for the next day. On the agenda: sledding and snowshoeing. But first, we must visit the indoor pool and hot tub to ready the body for the next day’s challenges...

Saturday morning, off and running (Skiing?). Free buffet breakfast (alongside 50 other families and their kids – relaxing), make sure the dog pees and we load up for a day of fun. Sleds? Check. Snowshoes? Check. Cooler full of food and beer? Check, check. First stop was our property in Mt. Shasta Forest, just outside of McCloud. Again, where’s all the snow? There was just enough for our day’s ventures. Groovy. First on our list o’fun was sledding. Hmmm. Lots of trees and bushes still sticking out of the ground. Time to rally. Found some small hills that would do just dandy. I must admit, though, that the icy surface did make for a nice, slick track. We were even running like hell and diving onto the flat surfaces, twisting and turning our way right into the trees. And the sleds that Santa brought us from Costco? Rockin’! After a few rounds of bush dodging and taking out small trees with our bodies (No joke! I did it at least twice), it was time to break for sustenance. Sat our butts down on our sleds and enjoyed the bounty that was cold cuts, string cheese and beer. Okay, no beer for Jack, but mama’s shoulder is REALLY sore from taking out that last tree. And next on the Trio’s agenda? Take the roads to a higher elevation to find some snowshoe trails. And we found them! We were already pooped out from the half day of sledding and crashing, but I pressed on as we only had 2 days to fit in all our activities. And if we’re pooped out now, why not get completely exhausted? Maybe Jack will even take a nap? HA HA HA HA HA! That’s a good one… Did I mention that it was a beautiful day? The weather really was exceptional and we were very fortunate to be out on such a day.

We finally couldn’t climb any higher and stopped at the end of the non-plowed road to find a trail of snowshoes leading us further down the snow laden road. Sorry, gang, but it’s time to strap on the snowshoes and see how far we can go. At this point, I’m sure my family despises me for being so “GO! GO! GO!” But we’re here, we’re (somewhat) rested, and dammit, we’re the Adventure Trio! (Don’t MAKE me say fuck, right David?) With snowshoes on and a fresh patch of yellow snow made, we set forth down the snowshoe trail. We only lasted so long as Jack kept whining (Aargh!) and poor Hank’s paws were bleeding in spots from running along the exposed brush. Fine. Back down the trail we went, packed up our gear and headed back to the hotel. It had been a long day. And for day two? Skiing, baby!!!

Sunday morning. Up by 6:30AM. What the hell?!? Jack, dude, don’t you know how to sleep in? Ugh. Fine. We suited up, headed down to the family-riddled buffet again, and headed right back to our room. We all needed just a little more down time before hitting the resort. Packed again was the Yukon with our day’s toys…and Hank. Such a trooper. After we parked at the ski resort, I attempted to get on my ski boots for their virgin voyage. Wait! Why are they not fitting?!?!? FUCK!!!! Dammit! Are you kidding me? I really, REALLY don’t want to rent ski boots! Yuck. I must give in and head to the rental line with the rest of the fam. And away we went… Got our gear (which took about 45 minutes), signed Jack up for a ski lesson and headed out to see how the big guy was going to handle his new appendages. All Jack wanted to do was go fast. No stopping, no snowplow (which is now called a ‘pizza slice’). He just wanted Terry to hold him at the top of the hill and me to catch him at the bottom. Got PISSED when we tried to teach him the pizza slice to stop. Are you sure he’s not 14 already? He’s got the attitude for it, that’s for damn sure. So, after a few runs down the bunny hill with me, it was time to check him in for his lesson. He wanted NOTHING to do with either one of us while in line (another 14 year old moment) and would barely say g‘bye when we left. Too cool for elementary school. Wow! Terry and I had 1 ½ hours to do whatever. Priceless!!!!! Hit the lodge for food and libations, then ventured to the chair lift. I had already gone down the mountain a couple of times while Terry hung with Jack. Thanks, Terry! Now it was our turn to try and tumble down the mountainside. What about snowboarding, you ask? Next month. Promise.

There was a ton of man-made snow with even more ice underneath. You could hear it crunching under your skis as you made your way down. And speaking of crunching, that would have been the sound of my bones if I hadn’t been able to maneuver my way around all the ass-sittin’ snow boarders. I’m not kidding! There are snowboarders just hangin’’ in the middle of the runs making it seem more like a game of Frogger than skiing. There was one heinous corner that sported 6 snowboarders sitting along the ONLY spot to turn without pulling a Sonny Bono. Fortunately, we were able to maneuver around, taking out only a couple of 16 year olds. And how did Jack do in his lesson? Fabulous! He listened to his instructor (of course, because it’s not Terry or I) and is really looking forward to snowboarding next month. And so am I! I really enjoy sitting on my frozen ass all day as 6 year olds whiz past me while doing a front side grab. Fuckers. I’m not bitter. Check back after President’s Day weekend for the snowboarding update. We’re bringing witnesses with us in the form of Taryn and Kelly. Hoping since both of them snowboard, we can pick up some pointers that help keep us from doing the cartwheel tumble down the run. No promises, but I will hand off the camera to them to “capture” the grand moments. Should be interesting. Should be something that ends on uTube.

Cheers to all and remember, do one thing every day that scares you. It makes for some fabulous stories and grand memories. Ciao.

Hank checks out the camera

Happy New Year
It's Already 2007...damn!

So how was my 2006, you may ask? It was quite painful. No seriously! I decided to run a marathon the early part of December. Why? Don't ask why, ask why not. (Thanks, Jen!) Honestly, I didn't have enough physical challenges under my belt for the year and felt very, well, blah. Needed something to boost my desire to compete and keep myself in my $150 jeans, especially since new designer jeans are costing upwards of $300. Who in their right fucking mind pays that much for jeans? The parents' of college students, that's who. Anyway, I'm getting off on a tangent... So I ran really far and it hurt really bad. Got the medal, got the t-shirt, limped home

What was next in the ol' bag o' tricks? Why not camping in the middle of December? Sounds fab on this end! I'm not joking - Terry and I rode the bikes to Armstrong Grove in Guerneville on Friday, December 29th. If you have any appreciation at all for nature and all it's beauty, you must take this trip! After entering the park and following the road to the end, take the very, VERY windy and narrow road up and watch out for those 5 MPH switchbacks. Dude, no joke. One bad turn, one stalled engine and you're a boulder sliding down the hillside. As you ride, you will find yourself immersed in a mass of rolling green hills that span for what seems eternity. Take the time to stop and soak it in. It's magnificent. It reminds you of what the world looked like before Walmart and Home Depot. When you come to the end of the road, you are introduced to Bullfrog Pond. I remember coming here once a long time ago when Terry and I were first dating. Loooooong time ago... It's a natural pond on the top of the rolling hills of Sonoma County, surrounded by redwood trees, crisp air and loads of wildlife. No joke, packs of coyotes roam the hills through the night, crying to each other, letting others know of their locale. This time of year, because of the chilly air, the bullfrog's sounds were few and far between. But a few did put on a display for us as we ate dinner. And what was dinner? Hey, why not hit the local Safeway, pick up that pre-cooked chicken and some veggies & dip and call it done! Oh, and a big fat bottle of Jagermeister, too. All items purchased were consumed to the last drop. Seriously, you should've heard Terry - he's such a funny drunk. We stumbled to our tent some time around 7PM and fell (passed out?) asleep. Slept pretty damn good until around 3AM. Had to pee like a mad woman! But wait, are those the packs of coyotes I hear crying to each other?!? And don't they sound kind of close? I'll just wait a few minutes until they spread out. Forty-five minutes later, I felt it was safe enough to venture out of the tent. Not a peep from the coyotes. Sigh of relief. Wait a minute. What the hell? That coyote cry sounded WAAAAAY too close, just up over the ridge. Pee fast, dammit, pee fast! FASTER!!! All the while, Terry found it quite entertaining. Sounds of laughter and "Can I have your motorcycle?" came barreling from the tent. Hey, jackass, if you find it so amusing, why don't you come hang your ass out in the cold with me? Running back to the tent as I was pulling up the long underwear, fleece and all the other layers I had piled on, I quickly found my way back inside my sleeping bag, making sure to elbow my neighbor in the gut before settling in for the rest of the night.

We emerged from our cocoon around 6AM. Chilly, yes, but not as bad as we thought. Maybe only in the low 40's. Where IS that JetBoil (the most awesome camping invention EVER)? Time to make some hot coffee, if only just to hold for warmth. Some coffee in our systems and a Clif Bar for sustenance, we ventured off for a morning hike. There are dozens of trails that you can walk, mountain bike or ride on horseback. We headed west to see if we could catch the sun breaking over the eastern hills. We followed a windy, very narrow path through valleys and wooded areas and found ourselves smack in the middle of Eden. Nice. The sun had yet to crest, but it didn't matter. No clouds, no fog (a rarity for this area), no noises from the outside world. Priceless. We talked, we laughed, we planned our next adventure. In fact, this whole trip we really got to enjoy each others company without the nuisance of phones or television. We were back to us. Again, priceless. Ventures such as these are coveted and should be required for all married with kids couples. No computer, no makeup, just us.

After a very nice chat with the park ranger (a gentleman who had done and seen a lot when it came to outdoor adventures), we rode the backroads to Healdsburg. When you're traveling from the coast and heading north to Healdsburg, Cloverdale, etc., never, EVER take the freeway. There are so many back roads that wind you through redwood groves and vineyards. These roads hug the hillsides and swallow you in their dense branch arbors only to open back up to a valley of vines, working ranches and views of Mount St. Helena. Never take the freeway. We continued through Healdsburg, stopped to say "Hi and Bye" to dad (he and Arlene were leaving for 3 months) and continued on Highway 128. Took another road, Chalk Hill to be exact, and wound our way back to Santa Rosa and eventually onto Highway 12 to Sonoma to pick up Mr. Jack, who could've cared less about our presence as he was helping papa clean the pool. Man stuff. We ended up spending the whole New Year's weekend at the Borden abode in Sonoma. Made some cioppino New Year's Eve, drank waaaaaay to much Jack Daniel's, and finally left for home Monday morning.

My thoughts for 2007? I can only speculate based on previous years, but I'm hoping that 2007 does away with WalMart and $300 jeans. Ick. Just ick. I hope people wakeup, drop the fast food and get their fat asses out walking, skipping, limping, something! Hello America! You're fat! Put down the Whopper. Put down the remote. There's an entire planet out your window that's begging to be discovered, and I'm NOT talking about visiting Graceland. There's more than you'll ever have time to see, but wouldn't it be nice to try? And my resolution? I gotta get my ass back in the blog saddle, at least two new entries a month. Anyone who knows me knows that I have to keep my word. And now that it has been said (written?), it's a done deal. I already have enough pics and stories for at least two more after this. Sorry to all who have been checking for new entries in the past several months. Life and lack of time have helped contribute to my negligence. No excuse, really. Terry and I have several adventures on the books with hopes of adding a few more. So watch for adventures races, motorcycle rides and whatever else our twisted little minds may come up with. Who knows where I'll end up next. But, as long as I can take my family with me, it should be memorable and full of unexpected quirks. Hey, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Cheers and love to all. Ciao.

P.S.

We stopped to take a pic of our bikes at sunset. I, of course, forgot to put my kickstand down before I got off and, alas, over it went. Idiot. So, we're standing there admiring the view when, low and behold...

...down goes Terry's bike. Busted up laughin', dude. Mind you, Terry's bike weighs in excess of 700 pounds plus when loaded. It took both of us to upright it as we kept slipping in the wet grass. And the cause of the fall?

The ground hadn't quite recovered from all the rain and the kickstand punctured right through. Nice. Happy motoring...and don't forget to put your kickstand down on solid ground.