Deception Pass Christmas 2009

My sister and I don't see each other too often, but it's always fun when we get together. She had to work on Christmas but we got to hang out on Christmas Eve and later headed down to Seattle to see the Chris Jordan exhibit at the Pacific Science Center (totally worth going to)!

Gretta's Christmas

What does a dog want for Christmas?
Our dogs love food but they really love to get out and hike. We headed up to Whidbey Island to spend Christmas with my parents and extended family. We decided to take our bikes so the dogs got some great rides in and on Christmas day we took them down to the beach at Deception Pass. As usual, they had a ball despite the frigid temps.

The NRHA Futurity, Oklahoma City and all the other states in between

Reader beware- This is long. I just got going and couldn't stop. This was one of the most unique experiences I've ever had, it won't be so unique the next time I head down to OKC, so I felt I needed to document it in detail. I won't be offended if no one reads to the end.

So I've been back from Oklahoma for just over a week and the high from the experience has finally worn off. See October's post if you don't remember, I qualified to take Nic to Oklahoma to compete in the NRHA's National Final's competition which took place the week after Thanksgiving. To qualify, I had to do well at the local level and then the regional level. I decided to head down because I felt I had a shot at actually doing really well in OKC.

I was lucky enough to head down with my friends, Roxie and Lindsey. Roxie, Lindsey and Roxie's other daughter, Brittany ride and train, and sell their own reiners. Roxie used to be a trainer and as her girls grew up, she made them ride and train their own horses. Needless to say, all three of them can ride with the best of them AND they've always trained their own horses (in the world of reining, many of us non-pros don't train our own horses, in fact, some non-pros just get on their horses before they go to show in a class, the trainer does the rest of the work). This was their third trip down to OKC, so it was nice traveling with two people with previous traveling experience.

November 25, DAY 1: 5 am, we leave Dufur, Oregon to begin our 1800 mile journey. Roxie quickly establishes the fact that she could have been a long-haul truck driver in a past life. After a hectic stop at Winco in Twin Falls, ID (day before Thanksgiving grocery shopping was out of control) we decide not to stop until we reach dreary Rock Springs, Wyoming especially after stopping for gas at a Pilot, getting stuck in the parking lot and blowing out the back window with our 1 ton of hay. It was cold and barren in Rock Springs, Wyoming. The horses water quickly froze. We leave at 4 the next morning eager to get out of a town where everyone seemed to live in a tempoary trailer because they were working for an oil company.

November 26, DAY 2: Still driving. Roxie still insists on manning the wheel (secretly reliving her long-haul truck driving days). Eastern Wyoming and Nebraska are boring places. FLAT, straight roads, makes one feel like they aren't really going anywhere. We decided to find an open restaurant in hopes of salvaging Thanksgiving. Our favorite holiday is Thanksgiving and it was hard to leave the prospect of good food for the prospect of eating at a grocery store OR worse, a fast food restaurant. Since most restaurants were closed on Thanksgiving and we limited ourselves to restaurants with big parking lots, fairly close to the highway, we quickly found that our only option was Perkins. Lindsey reminded us that Perkins had good pies (Lindsey has a sweet tooth that was so contagious, I've done nothing but dream of cookies and pies since returning to Wa), which did make the place a little more enticing. The weirdest thing about Perkins was that the place was totally full (did I mention this was Thanksgiving?????). I had trouble knowing that people CHOSE to go to Perkins in Thanksgiving. Depressing. We ate and left with a chocolate pie and headed off to York, Nebraska where stayed at a much nicer place. Stalls had straw for horses to lay on and the temps. were just above freezing.

November 27, DAY 3: We saw our first Starbucks in over 500 miles. I never thought I'd be happy to see a Starbucks but unlike the Northwest, the rest of the US is not inundated with Starbucks annoyingly located on every street corner. In fact, they're sparsely located and almost seem like true coffee shops, not coffee the McDonald's of coffee shops which is what they have become in the Northwest.

We arrived at the OKC fairgrounds by 2 pm. This is where my eyes got big. For those of you who have been to Las Vegas, this is the only thing I can compare it to. Gina, Carrie, Colleen, remember the first time we went to Vegas and were totally in awe of the hotels, all the little details of extravagance? That's what OKC was like, just think continuous horse theme. All the big name barns and trainers, decorate their stall isles to the T, they bring in leather couches, facades for the ends of the stall isles, flat screen TV's that provide live feed of arenas. Aside from this, there was a separate sale barn, three arenas, and vendors as far as I could see. We spent the rest of the afternoon riding and oogling at all there was to look at.

November 28, DAY 4, 2 am: Lindsey quickly set a regimented riding schedule where we would crawl out of bed at 2 am, bundle up, head over to ride because the arena's were nearly empty, clean up the horses and then go back to bed for awhile. I felt like I was practicing for the time when I would have a newborn. This again instilled to me that I was NOT having a kid. Doing a week of this getting up in the middle of the night thing was fine, doing it for months on end, wouldn't cut it for me. I like my sleep. I did like riding in nearly empty arenas instead of trying to get things done with 20 other people in the arena.

November 29, DAY 5: This was the first day I really had time to sit down and watch the futurity classes (this is where all the money is- showing the three yr. old horses). I spent most of the day glued to my seat watching the second-go round of the futurity. Lindsey was busy trying to sell the horse she's been showing. I can't tell you how many horses were for sale in OKC. Even more suprising was the fact that I didn't see a single horse advertised for under $15,000. Don't think this is a teachers hobby!

November 30, DAY 6: Riding at 2 am is going well, I felt I continually improving my riding and finding holes in my riding program. Reiners are very particular about the condition of the ground we ride on as a big part of our manuevers are the sliding stops. Bad ground makes for bad stops and lame horses. The ground in OKC was so good and so fast, the horses actually had a hard time finding their footing becasue they'd stop so fast. The NAAC classes started on the 30th and Lindsey ended up 2nd in her Novice Horse class. She won yet another buckle, more horse supplements, and a bunch of other loot (not to mention $500).

December 1, DAY 7: I was surprised at how well Nic held up through this whole experience. Hauling a long way is pretty stressful on horses, but he was a champ. He drank fine while in the trailer and settled right in once we got to the fairgrounds. He didn't seem to mind the constant hustle and bustle in the barns and was content to continuously eat and beg for more food when we were hanging out by the stalls. Some horses get pretty sore from the riding and standing in the stalls, but his legs held up pretty well. I had fancy new shoes put on him when we first arrived and they really seemed to be the ticket. I showed in my first class which went ok, not as well as I'd intended and I knew I'd had to work on some thing early the next morning.

The sale horses also came in on December 1 . During the week long show, the NRHA also hosts three horse sales. The horses consigned to the sale must meet specific performance breed requirements and typically the horses at all three sales are sold for fairly large sums of money (the cheapest usually sell for around $5000). As the sale barns filled up, Lindsey, Roxie and I started window shopping. All those little faces looking at us through the stalls, called to us, especially the babies.

December 2, 3, and 4 DAY 7,8, 9- At this point, I started to forget what day it was and quit looking at my watch. By now the night time rides, the cozy trailer quarters and generally living in a barn seemed a regular part of my life. December 3rd brought the start of the first horse sale. Lindsey, Roxie and I decided to see what our picks would go for. After sitting in the stands for a mere 10 minutes we realized this year was not like other years. Horses that would usually command a decent amount of money were going for a pittance (or what seemed like a pittance). It appeared that the economic slump had finally hit the horse industry. We quickly decided that we needed to obtain a buyers number. I quickly put the buyers number to good use and bid on and won, Sophie's Wrangler, a yearling, bay filly. This was probably the quickest and 3rd most unthoughtout decision I'd ever made (the Hermiston house being the 2nd and I'm sure I've got a few firsts that I can't remember right now). Although I'd seen Sophie earlier in her stall, I didn't examine her as a future buyer, I knew she had good legs and she seemed "nice minded" but that was all I could knew about her. I think I got lucky because aside from trying to commit suicide on the ride back from OKC, she seems to be a real winner and even Jarred who did a great job of containing his disgust for my equine spending habits admits that he kind of likes her. She does have a great personality and loves to be in on any action that seems to be going on. Like any baby, she also likes to put everything in her mouth. The other day I caught her licking the arena light switch.

The next day, Lindsey caught the sale bug and also purchased a filly. Lindsey had just sold the horse she raised, trained and successfully showed for a pretty decent sum of money. I think the money was burning a hole in her pocket and she was already missing the horse she just sold and the need to replace a cool horse had taken over.

December 5 Day 10: This was the day I'd come down for. My Rookie of the Year class. I drew up 40th out of 45 which gave me a lot of time to ride in the morning and time to watch my class to see what my competition would be like. I was able to watch the first twenty riders go and was pretty confindent that I'd do well. I was nervous about starting my run becasue I'd had trouble with Nic dancing around in between my spins, which I had to do first but I got through them and ended up with a good set of circles. My first stop was decent but I made a huge mistake in my second stop when I went to roll back to head to my third stop. I knew this had cost my a placing in the top 10 and finished in utter disappointment. Maybe it was my confidence that got to me or maybe it was just a "shit happens" aspect of life. I'd driven nearly 2000 miles for one run and shit happened. I feel that I'm able to now examine the entire experience rather than just focusing on the one run but I remained pretty grumpy the rest of the day.

Our final cool experience was watching the open futurity finals class. This is the class where all the big time open riders show their three year olds. They'd been showing all week and the class was narrowed down to the top 30 riders. As they were showing three year olds, anything could happen which made the class exciting.

The Ride Home DAY 12, 13- The one huge bummer about living in Washington is that Washington and all the northern states experience winter. Driving a horse trailer in the snow SUCKS. Coming through Wyoming again wasn't an option unless we wanted to drive 25 mph through snow with a 4 horse trailer over two mountain passes. We opted to go through Texas, Arizona and head north through California. We were also traveling with two slicked out babies who had no hair and spent all their lives in Texas and Tennessee and had never spent more than three hours in a horse trailer. All of this proved to make an interesting ride home. As I stated previously, Sophie had had enough by the time we hit Southern Oregon and decided to lay down while we were driving (does not work for horses), she nearly hung herself and we had to get her up and out of the trailer in -4 degree weather. Just before this incident, Lindsey's filly somehow got her blankets stuck around her neck (she was really trying to hang herself...must have been cavorting with Sophie on the finer points of how to kill herself). We made it home in one piece, alive.

Jarred and I seem to keep pretty busy and are weekends and summers are consistently filled with fun times. While, at times, I feel like we go, go, go too much it's experiences like these that remind me that life is for living, not waiting to live, or wishing to live. I came home from OKC totally motivated to improve on my riding and I set higher goals for myself. No one should regret an experience that leaves them with this type of motivation, no matter how many regrets go along with it.

Impressive

It's raining right now and I'm trying to conjure up good reasons to appreciate where I live. Yes, Gretta and Shuksan can pretend to be hunters, and yes, we do have bald eagles in our back yard. I'm still not totally convinced I shouldn't move to Arizona.

The Diggers

Gretta, the "hunter."

Although Jarred and I always complain about where we live, we're also the first to admit, there are perks to our location. While Shuksan and Gretta are often also bummed they live in town, they are always grateful for the fact that we live just yards away from a nature preserve. The preserve is fenced off to keep humans out, but Shuksan and Gretta can squeeze through the fence and entertain themselves for hours hunting nature. Aside from chasing deer, their favorite nature preserve pass time is hunting "voles" (or moles as the rest of the world calls them.) Gretta doesn't have the best digging abilities and Shuksan doesn't have the best nose, so together they make a great team. Gretta finds the "voles" and Shuksan digs, grabs with his mouth, and in general is able to excavate large amounts of earth. All the while, Gretta waits in rapt attention for some poor-unsuspecting "vole" to become unearthed.

Before I left to ride Nic yesterday, I wanted to take the dogs on a run, however, they'd disappeared from the house and I'd not seen them for over an hour. Having a hunch as to where they were, I took the camera and went dog hunting. I found them across the fence in the nature preserve covered in mud. I don't think this picture does their filth justice, but Gretta had mud piled on her nose, and Shuksan's collar was so caked I had to wash it. They were still a bit "vole" crazed as I reeled them back in and took them off on their run.

Oklahoma, Here We Come!

Remember the blog post I made last month about Nic kicking some horse butt? Well, he's continued to do so. Two weekends ago we headed down the road to Nampa, Idaho with our new found traveling friends, the Berubaums (more on this crew later). This was to be our biggest and most competitive show this year as we'd qualified for the NRHA Northwestern Affiliate Finals. All the NRHA Affiliate members with qualifying runs were invited to come to the Regional Finals. It's actually not difficult to qualify (as long as a rider completes a full show season with an Affiliate group, they can usually qualify) but the competition at the Regional Finals tends to be tough. This weekend was no exception.

My intent in heading down to Nampa was to do as well as I had at the last show. I knew the competition would be tough and wasn't planning on trying to qualify for the Nationals in Oklahoma. My traveling partner, Lindsey Bernbaum had other plans. Lindsey is currently a straight A senior in high school. She trained the horse she is currently showing and has proceeded to really kick butt the last two years. She actually went down to Oklahoma last year and placed in the top five in nearly all her classes. Lindsey was a motivating friend to travel with as were her sister, Brittany and mom, Roxie. All three girls ride well and they were good to have along as they kept my nerves in check and provided hours of entertainment.

My first Affiilate class was my Rookie class. This class is for riders who have not earned more than $500 during their show career. At the start of this season, I thought my Rookie class would be a drop in the hat. Boy was I wrong. I pretty much needed to score over a 70 to even be in the money at the Affiliate club level. I now worried that a 70 would be nothing at the Regional level. I was right. I went into my class just focusing on trying to beat myself in my last run. About half way through my run, I felt that Nic and I were hooked up and on the same page (as much as one can be with a large beast). I ended my run happy with myself....my happiness escalated as I heard my score...a 71. This put me in second place but there were about 25 more riders to go (there were 43 riders in my class). By the end of my class, I had been bumped down to fourth but had qualified for the Nationals (only the top five riders in each class qualify). I was happy with my run and surprised that I was still competitive at the Regional level but still had not really thought about actually making the trip down to Oklahoma.

While I did well in my Rookie class, Lindsey and Brittany were cleaning up in their classes. They cleaned up in their Novice Horse class and Lindsey took third in her Limited class (I also showed in this class and her Youth class. They were defiantly on their way to Oklahoma. This is when the taunting and encouraging began. By the end of the show, I was pretty much convinced that I should go and try for the coveted Rookie of the Year award.

So I'm officially off to the Midwest. I know, nobody vacations in the Midwest and I really don't know why all the major horse shows are located there (perhaps the cheap land and large facilities?). I do know that this trip will be full of a lot of firsts.
1. My first trip to the Midwest.
2. My first time spending three straight days in a vehicle.
3. My first time to the NRHA Fururity.
4. My first time competing at a National Level.
5. My first time hanging out with cowboys for a full straight week.

In a effort to familiarize myself with Oklahoma City, I did a google search on the city. I found these "interesting" facts.
1.Okmulgee owns the world record for largest pecan pie, pecan cookie, pecan brownie, and biggest ice cream and cookie party. Each June, Okmulgee rolls out the welcome mat to thousands of its closest friends as the annual Pecan Festival comes to town.(I'm fearing that everyone in the Midwest is overweight.)

2. The National Cowboy Hall of Fame is located in Oklahoma City. (This is why all the major horse shows are located in Oklahoma City...plus Cowoby's would not fare well in Seattle.)

3. Garth Brooks was born in Tulsa, Oklahoma. He grew up in Yukon, Oklahoma. (I love Garth Brooks.)

State Motto: Labor Omnia Vincit {Labor Conquers All Things} (What the hell does this mean...when in doubt, work???)

Oklahoma's four mountain ranges include the Ouachitas, Arbuckles, Wichitas and the Kiamichis. (What a joke, there are no mountains in Oklahoma, just slight hills.)

Oklahoma is bordered by six states: Texas to the south and west, Arkansas and Missouri to the east, Kansas to the north and Colorado and New Mexico at the tip of the northwestern Oklahoma panhandle. (I wonder how many confederate flags I'll see.)

I'll keep everyone posted on how the show goes. I head down just before Thanksgiving and return the second week in December. Lindsey reported that we are lucky enough to see places like the world's largest pickle and the home of Rubbermaid on our way down. Sounds like so good photo ops.

Views from the Bike

A Great Way to See St. Helens

The thermometer in Doug's car read 31 as we pulled into the parking lot on the south side of Mt. St. Helens. I was having a hard time motivating myself to bundle up for some fall mountain biking but since there was a group of us and we'd already driven nearly two hours, I wasn't going to just sit in the car for the day, so I bundled.

The year Mt. St. Helens blew was one of the few years I lived in Washington as a child. I don't remember much but we do have photos of inches and inches of snow like ash that blanketed the small town of Washougal. Thirty years later the evidence of the power of the mountain still remains. We started our ride in old growth forest and soon climbed out onto a huge pumice field. From there we had a great view of the mountain and the desolation surrounding the volcano. As we rode down across the pumice field the wind picked up and we battled our way across Windy Ridge, a loose (and of course windy) ridge. After riding for about 10 miles and feeling like we were really away from civilization, we came to a paved road and and the Windy Ridge observation site which overlooks Spirit Lake. I had a hard time believing people actually drove to this destination, but then again, Americans do weird things. After hunkering down for some lunch (Windy Ridge is Windy Ridge for a reason, everyone who had previously done the ride had never NOT experienced wind on Windy Ridge) we hurried off for a warmer destination and some punishing downhill. Since pumice weighs next to nothing, it does not make for great biking terrain. The first part of our downhill consisted of white knuckle switchbacks followed by loose trail on a slanted slope. Not a mountain bikers dream but considering the unbelievable views and terrain on the rest of the ride, we didn't complain as we bumbled through the pumice.

Finally able to de-layer we took in the myriad of giant toothpicks that remained as they did thirty years ago after the big blast. We rode along a river bed that was obviously once a lava chute but was now a small river. Being in places like this make me realize how small and insignificant humans really are. When I am constantly surrounded by big box stores and other human made entities, I begin to feel as if we rule the world, but mountain biking on St. Helens once again reminded me that life goes on when we humans are not around, we don't rule the world.

The St. Helens ride was one of my favorites. It offers great terrain, it's long (25 miles), and beautiful in a way many Northwest trails are not.

A Trip Gone Wrong

I'm sure everyone reading this is pretty in tune with that fact that Jarred and I are obsessed with mountain biking (among other things). After three weeks of not biking due to horse shows and being sick, we got back on our bikes yesterday for some fun at Post Canyon. I surprised myself at how excited I was to be back on my bike after just two weeks of not riding. I felt like a kid with a new toy. Biking has made us appreciate the wonderful trails the Gorge and our other favorite areas have to offer. It has also made us realize that nature does not create biking trails for our pleasure. The creation and maintenance of trails takes endless hours of clearing downed trees, raking trails, lopping off overhanging branches...work that the Forest Service could do if there weren't so many hiking/biking fanatics wanting and building new trails (and the lack of funding allotted to the Forest Service). A number of bikers and hikers have created groups to maintain the trails the Forest Service cannot get to. Jarred and I decided we too needed to give back to what we really enjoy so we joined the Northwest Trail Alliance. Admittedly, Jarred has spent many more hours than I, clearing trails. I think he really just likes to use his big-ass chainsaw. His latest project is a 15 or so mile trail, Siouxon Creek, about 30 miles from our house. Siouxon is a popular hiking and biking trail that saw mass destruction after last winter's snow storm. Jarred has spent many hours on the Siouxon trail with whomever will accompany him and rake, lop or help him move logs.

Last weekend, while I was off riding Nic, he managed to round up two able bodies to help him finish clearing Siouxon Creek. Off he went, last Sunday morning, big-ass chainsaw in hand with promises to return by 7 pm. After a day of horse fun, I returned home at 7:30 Sunday evening. I didn't think twice about Jarred not being home, as he can get carried away with trail maintenance and running his big-ass chainsaw but when 9 pm rolled around, I began to worry a bit. I woke up at 10:30 and worried a little more. I started to imagine chain saw accidents and men stuck under fallen trees. At midnight my imagination ran wild and I considered the fact that I should probably consider either calling 911 or driving out to look for the hooligans. I decided to call my trusty friend, Meghan Faherty for advice (I also figured she was one of my few friends awake at midnight). Meghan advised me to wait until 1 am and then take action. One rolled around and still no word from Jarred or his two helpers. I called 911 and explained the situation. After realizing that little help was going to come from some cops and a dispatcher who didn't even know where Siouxon Creek was, I hopped in my truck and headed out to be the knight (not sure of what a female knight would be called) in shining armor who could (hopefully) save the three lost souls stuck in the woods. In all reality, I wasn't sure what I would do if I didn't find the three woodsmen at their car (or hiking out to the road because their car was broke down) but I figured I'd deal with that issue when I didn't find them. I decided to be optimistic and assume I'd find them somewhere in the thirty miles between our house and the unmarked trail head.

At two thirty I finally reached the trail head. As I pulled my truck up next to the lone Jeep Cherokee, out popped Jarred from the drivers seat. In a semi-sleeping stupor, he blurted out his explanation, "I'm sorry, Alex lost his keys! Who takes their keys on a hike and doesn't leave them by or around the car! Thanks, for coming, I knew you'd show up eventually."

I waited in silence as they shivered and loaded their gear into my truck. All were quiet on the way back into town. As we drove I wondered why Jarred thought I'd eventually show up as it was a SUNDAY night and I was due at work in two hours......this is where I know I will never understand the minds of men.

Nic Kicks Some Horse Butt

Things always seem easier than they are. When I first watched someone ride a reining horse, I thought..."Wow! I want to do that, looks pretty easy." HA!

I've been reining now for the past five years. I've had Nic, my current horse for three years and this year, I finally feel like I'm starting to figure him out. Believe it or not, horses are not machines and they have their own ideas about what should happen and when. Not that Nic is defiant, it's more that he, like any horse, doesn't want to work harder than he has to. He also responds to most of my ques, some of which, I don't even know I'm giving him. This makes for some weird communication at times.

Over the course of this past show season, I've made huge gains and had some big bobbles, but at the the last show in the series, things finally came together. I stayed out of the penalty box (not literally, like in hockey- we have to follow a specific pattern, anything we do to deviate from the pattern is counted as a 1/2-5 pt penalty, depending on the severity of the deviation) and managed to plus some of my maneuvers. I got lucky in my first class and managed to tie for first with a 70 (our scores start at 70, we can plus maneuvers and increase our score or obtain penalties or minus maneuvers and decrease our score- we all aim for a 70, which can be hard to maintain). I made some improvements and went into a class to school (practice without actually showing) and ended up with a 70.5 to win my second class. I came home with two trophies and a bucket of treats (Nic could have cared less about the trophies...they're not edible). Because we had some good scores at shows, we qualified for the NRHA Western Affiliate Finals in Nampa, Idaho in October. I think Nic is a little disappointed because I generally finish showing the first weekend in October. Once I finish showing for the season, Nic gets some time off... I think he's wondering what he did wrong.

Bella 1997-2009

The least fun event of the summer was putting Bella down. I never thought I'd have to make the decision to put one of my dogs down, I just assumed they'd die of old age or violently at the hands of a vehicle. Life is full of surprises. Bella had had a rough winter and was having a hard time keeping weight on. We figured it was old age, made some diet changes but worried little as she still had the same energy she'd previously had. We decided to have Bella stay with Jarred's mom for the summer as I was going to be living in my horse trailer with Shuksan and Gretta and Jarred was biking out to Idaho. Bella was never much for long car rides or travel, so we figured she'd enjoy Noni's quiet backyard. I was due to head back to Washington for the weekend mid-July and the week prior to my departure, Noni called about Bella. She was not eating and her energy level had dropped. Noni took Bella into the vet, blood and urine tests were done but the results for both came back normal. Noni suggested to us that we may want to consider putting her down unless we wanted to spend money on x-rays and ultrasounds. We decided to wait until we saw Bella and talked to the vets ourselves, to make our final assessment of her condition.
I've never quite known what to think when people say, "Oh, you'll know when your pet is ready to die." I'd never seen a pet "ready" to die until I came back and saw Bella. It wasn't that she could not get up out of bed, it was more that she'd lost a ton of weight and just wasn't herself. She wagged her tail when she saw us and then went directly to her bed. It was at that moment that we knew that ultra sounds and x-rays weren't what she needed, nor did I want to wait until she couldn't get out of her bed. I wanted her to die fairly happy, just as I'd like to die. So later that morning, Jarred and I took her down to the local vet and had her put down in the yard behind the clinic. We buried her under a pile of rocks in the Palisades, a beautiful area between Wenatchee and Ephrata.
Bella was a funny dog. She wasn't affectionate like Shuksan and Gretta but she knew who her people were and was the ever dependable trail dog who always led us back to the car, even in the dark. She was a kick ass mama dog who diligently showed both Easton and Shuksan what it meant to be a good dog and how to weasel oneself onto the couch. Most importantly, she showed Jarred that having a dog can be easy. If it weren't for her we wouldn't have Shuksan and Gretta. Hats off to the Little Juka (ie Bella).

Reason Number 17 Not to Do An "Epic" Ride With Jarred

I love this photo. It reminds me that it's ok to say no to the vast number of Jarred's mountain biking escapades. While in Idaho, Jarred kept wanting to do this "epic" ride up to Pioneer Cabin and around back to Ketchum. Not only is this ride long (over 20 miles) but it's also grueling with a huge amount of elevation gain (remember, we were already biking at 5,000 feet). While Chris and Megan were visiting, Jarred convinced Chris to join him on the "epic" ride. Chris and Jarred are matched in ability while biking but I think Jarred may have had the one up on acclimation because he beat Chris up this hill and still had the energy to take this great photo. I also love this photo because I've NEVER seen Chris tired. We biked the 24 hr. Round and Round with Chris and he had endless amounts of energy at all hrs of the day.

The big bad world

Nic is a show horse and he has pretty crummy feet so we don't get to trail ride much. Plus I think trail riding is boring, I'd rather be on my bike. I did want to get Nic out though as trail riding is a great way for him to relax but get exercise. I spent much of the summer riding with my great friends Lori and Meghan, luckily Lori and I can spend hours riding in an arena. After Jarred left at the end of July and my whirlwind biking vacation ended, Lori and I spent the mornings riding. It was fun to have riding buddies this summer.

What stairs were really meant for

Sun Valley's urban mountain biking

Megan the Trooper

Is summer really almost over? Time sure does fly in the summers and I just can't figure out why it crawls by in the winter. I spent all of time time off this summer in Sun Valley, Idaho. As many of you already know, Sun Valley is my favorite place in the entire US, especially during the summers. I love my Sun Valley friends, my fun Sun Valley tack store job and the beautiful valley which holds endless hours of outdoor fun. I have a number of stories to share about my summer but I'll start with one. Our friends Megan and Chris Brannen from Washington came out to visit us in July. Both mountain bike, like Jarred and I but Chris, like Jarred, has a slight mountain biking obsession so when Megan and Chris left Washington, Chris reminded Megan that this was to be a "biking" vacation. To people like Jarred and Chris a biking vacation entails biking as much as possible until you're either too tired to bike or you somehow break a part on your bike and must take a break so the bike can be fixed. Jarred and I had already started our "biking" vacation three weeks earlier so I was already slightly acclimated to biking at 5,000 feet nearly every day. Jarred seems to never really need to acclimate as he has special lungs that allow him to talk and bike uphill at 5,000 feet while I huff and puff behind him figuring out how to answer such questions like, "If we added on to the house how big would you want the kitchen..." in only one word.

We met Megan and Chris for a beer the night they arrived. I'd already decided that Megan's first biking experience in Sun Valley would be a fun easy trail of moderate length, BUT upon seeing some of our gnarly Sun Valley biking friends, we all decided to head up to Galena Pass to try a 17 mile loop. Our gnarly mountain biking friends assured us they would go at a leisurely pace and I assured Megan that this would be a hard trail but "not too hard for her first time in the area." Mind you, I'd no idea where the trail was or what it was like, I think a little bit of Jarred was wearing off on me.

To Megan's credit, she was a trooper, she's actually always a trooper. In fact the last time we biked together we did a 100 mile road ride and she wore the skin off her butt cheeks to the point where she couldn't sit at work the next day (luckily she's a PE teacher). I knew Megan could hack it but wanted her to have fun. The trail was super hard (hence the lack of photos) and we walked our bikes up a number of hills. Megan shredded most of her arm and leg while going down hill and even I spent some time sliding down a hill on my stomach while trying to keep my chin off the rocks. We then decided that we owed Megan some easy rides and only pushed her to do one good but harder ride, which is shown in the photo above. This is my favorite ride in Sun Valley. It winds up the south side of the ski resort and around the back side. It's one of the few trails where the downhill feels as long as the up.

I hope Megan and Chris come back to Sun Valley. We love sharing our favorite place with friends.

HOW MUCH ABUSE CAN YOUR ARSE TAKE?

Sarah says I'm obsessive. I don't know that I could disagree. When we met I climbed all the time, then kayaking was something I couldn't live without, now I seem to love my bikes. I think I would make a superb retiree. My current accomplishment was the 2009 RAMROD (Ride Around Mt Rainier In One Day). This ride entails 159 miles and 10,000' of elevation gain (and obviously loss.) The ride starts and ends in Enumclaw, WA. I stayed at my friends house the night before and awoke at 3am in order to get to the start, register, eat breakfast, meet some friends, and begin the longest day ride of my life to this point.(I seem to suck at making captions, if you know how to do that in blogger, email me.) Here I am at the start of RAMROD 2009 approximately 4:30am.

I've known I wanted to ride RAMROD since I found the description on the internet one day when looking for challenging things to do on my bike. I registered (it's a lottery system as the Natn'l Park only allows 800 participants) and was lucky enough to be allowed to ride as part of the supported event. The support was great as this would be a very hard ride to do solo. I rode with a few friends and we made short work of the first 80 or so miles. Here I am at approximately mile 50, feeling great! Below is the typical view of the aid stations, lots of people wanting food and drink!

The fun really started when we left the trees and headed up Cayuse Pass. This was a really long climb, the rolling uphill lasted probably 10 miles before the real climbing began. I stopped to take one quick picture as I entered the park and immediately lost my friend. I quickly caught my group, passed them and made catching Scott my goal. After 5 miles of fast climbing I realized he must have been pushing just as hard as I was because around each turn I would search for him and he was never there. I finally caught him at a water stop and sure enough we had maintained almost a minute distance as we both pushed hard up the hill. Interesting that one little picture can really change your place in a group. We weren't racing, but it's interesting to see how everyone performs when compared to each other. As we left the water stop I was delighted to learn the top was a mere 4 miles away, a cinch. Below is me experiencing the "cinch" of a climb while the heat continued to push toward another record high! Cayuse is big, 2688' of elevation gain over 11 miles with the last 4 being the steepest. The top of Cayuse Pass marked 102 on the mileage for the day. Great, that was a nice century, now let's get to those remaining 58 miles.

Rainier, what a great mountain!

All in all I am super stoked to have completed RAMROD. It's been a goal since early spring and much of the riding I've done since then has been training for the big day. Who knew the big day would be during the hottest weather on record for the PNW!

I would definitely do RAMROD again, not so much as a personal goal, but to do it with friends. I would also like to do a lot more riding in the Rainier area, it's beautiful. I think the ride itself wasn't amazingly notable, rather it was the sheer mileage and the scale of the mountain we were circumnavigating. Rainier dominates in a way few other mountains do, that's it's mystique! It was great to ride with so many other people, all sharing one common goal of completing this epic ride for one reason or another. I had never ridden more than 102 miles in one day up until RAMROD, it hurt my arse. It also made me second guess my dream of one day being able to hang with the randonneuring crowd. They ride amazingly far, 400k, 600k, 1000k, for those not in the know that's between 250 and 650 miles, roughly, in one stretch, with minimal rest, it's seriously cool. A day later I was feeling better and two days later I was on Mapquest dialing in directions for long rides this fall. RAMROD is the beginning, not the culmination. What is possible for me as an individual is always the question.

Get out there, surprise yourself!

WELCOME BACK TO THE GORGE!!!

My time in illustrious Idaho is finished for this summer and I'm back home. When people ask me where I live, I tell them I live in the Columbia River Gorge. I say this because I don't feel that the small useless town in which I reside (North Bonneville, WA) is my "home" nearly as much as I feel that the amazingly unique and stunningly beautiful place in which I romp around and play (the entire Gorge) is the place I am proud to claim as my home. I always look forward to the adventures the Gorge offers and hope that I will be able to appreciate and enjoy this bountiful location for the rest of my life. If not as a resident, then as a frequenter. The idea of "home" is an interesting concept and I think it's different for everyone. I feel at "home" anywhere in Washington, it's my promised land and a location in which I feel at ease and comfortable. Wood River Valley, Idaho is another location like this and I hope to add to the list as I grow older and experience more beautiful places.

OK, on with the main point of this blathering knowledge sharing. I think the previous post makes apparent the point that I've been biking a lot lately. As a result, I had totally ignored my kayak. I hit the river a few time this spring, but only half a dozen times, and I didn't run anything of consequence all season. When my friends called and wanted to know if I would be up for a run on the Truss (link to info on Green Truss http://www.oregonkayaking.net/riverframe.html), my local favorite, I said sure, wondering how I would perform. I felt as though I'd be fine, although I hadn't even sat in a kayak since May 10th. Sometimes breaks are good, but then again, the last few times I had boated I had swam as I was having trouble with my roll. So with trepidation sprinkled gusto I told them I was in and we all agreed to rally at my house the night before. It turned out that there were about 6-8 people at my house and we even picked up a travelling motorcyclist from British Columbia, this all resulted in 2-3 days of great food, new friends, and the type of camaraderie I wish were more prevalent in today's society. Again, I digress.

I arrived home the evening of Friday the 17th, and Saturday the 18th myself three friends plus one random boater we met in the parking lot put on the Truss. This is a class IV-V kayaking run that I've completed maybe 30 times, so I felt comfortable with my ability to do fine despite my lack of boating in the recent past. I practiced a few rolls at the put-in and assured myself I wouldn't repeat the swims of my previous outings during the spring. Now, there are many rapids on the Truss but one sticks out more than any and that is Big Brother. It's a 25' waterfall with a tricky launching/landing zone. The lip is broken basalt offering only one acceptable place for take-off and the landing is perfect in the middle 10'-12' with a cave on the right and a shallow ankle crushing shelf on the left. It's not a place to "practice" so to speak; it's a place to get it right every time!

When we found ourselves at BB I seemed to be the only one seriously considering running it. I had previously wondered whether I should portage simply based on my lack of boating in the recent past. I had two successful runs on the drop from the previous year and knew how to run it. It looked good; I realized the ever present potential for injury was the only think keeping me from running it...no way to improve other than to throw your hat in the ring and get on with it! With that I got back in my boat and quietly began fastening my sprayskirt. As I waited for some safety to be set I looked at the lip from my boat at river level, realizing I could still call it off. As my friends gave me the thumbs up I took a couple small strokes and realized I was still within reach of the eddy for portaging, then quickly made the decision to charge for the lip and picked up speed, this puts a paddler in the position of no turning back and narrows the focus to a couple very specific details, getting to the lip and placing the paddle perfectly with each stroke in order to assure a successful and safe landing. The following is a short video my friend Lanson shot from the portage ledges. Needless to say the run was great and it's good to be back in the Gorge!
Enjoy!

My neighbors asked me why I do things that could potentially inflict physical harm. I thought about this and the best reason I could think of was that when the mind and body have to work together in order to achieve success under pressure, the ultimate in elation is possible. If a task only involves one or the other, mind or body, the reward doesn't seem as sweet. This is not to say that inviting injury is a worthy endeavor, but pushing the envelope is all about attempting to see one's own limits, engaging in activities that exist right up to the edge of those limits thereby often redefining new limits, without overstepping so far that injury is inevitable. Everyone's limits are differnt...live it up...although hopefully injury free!

7 DAYS IN THE SADDLE, OR TO ID

The Man


The Machine

Have you ever heard of Mike Horn? I hadn’t either until I read a book titled Conquering the Impossible, lame name but that’s a rant for a different day. You don’t conquer things when nature is involved, nature can’t be conquered, but it can be enjoyed in a state of coexistence. In my case nature worked out perfectly to my complete benefit while I rode my bicycle from Hood River, OR to Ketchum, ID.

I was reading the aforementioned book this past winter. The purpose of the book was to relay a story of epic proportions. This adventurer, (he calls himself an explorer, but really, is there much exploring left in our world…it’s a debatable assertion) Mike Horn, circumnavigated the Arctic Circle using only human or wind powered means of travel. He spent two full winters in the Arctic, nearly died various times, and generally had a hell of a time, in both a good and bad sense. So I started thinking that my life needed some spice. I thought, if this guy can walk, sail, ski, what have you, around the Arctic Circle, certainly there are many cool things I could do, albeit on a smaller scale, that would be much cooler than what I had planned, which was nothing. So I hatched the idea to ride my bike to Idaho to kick off the summer rather than drive (which we normally do as we visit ID each year just after school gets out.)

Next came the planning. I ran through different routes via Mapquest and settled on a route that took me through some of the least populated places in Oregon and up over some of the hardest hill climbs in south-central Idaho. The route promised to be just over 600 miles and I figured I would take 10 days at the most (this would be if I had mechanical or physical problems and needed rest days) or 8 days if I just rode straight through. I think I truly decided this was a good idea sometime in March or April. Sarah and I were a part of a 24 hour mtn bike race in May and that was good training for long days in the saddle. I also rode a couple century rides this spring and they seemed very comfortable. This all gave me reason to believe I would be successful in my trip to ID, even though I’d have nobody to talk to, nobody to help haul the 35-40 lb trailer loaded with food and overnight gear, and nobody to draft off of if the wind kicked up. Riding in a group is nice for many reasons. First, it’s safer, 10 riders make a bigger impression on cars than 1 lone rider in the middle of the boondocks! Second, when multiple riders are in a line only the first rider is working hard, all the others are enjoying a nice wind bubble where life is easy and speeds of 20+ are frequent. I wouldn’t have this luxury nor did I expect to bump into any other riders out in the middle of PNW desolation. I did however have my trusty iPod shuffle with a healthy variety of the best music known to humankind (and a charger, technology is great!)

We hadn’t had rain at home for a couple of weeks and wouldn’t you know it, the morning I planned to depart, the rain started. It was 6am and I had just completed my last day of the 2008-2009 school year about 15 hours prior. I looked outside and checked the weather again on the internet and sure enough, all the extended forecasts had changed in the last 10 hours. What had been sun was now clouds and what had been clouds was now rain. Now, I love riding my bike, I don’t however love riding in the rain. I have ridden in the rain, but I usually finish the ride with a hot shower. I wasn’t looking forward to wet clothes and over a week of tent camping with no showers. So I threw some rain gear in a bag and went to the neighbors. Lenny, our neighbor, was kind enough to drop me in Hood River, Oregon, 25 miles east of my house, so I wouldn’t have to tangle with the dreaded hwy 14 and it’s non-existent shoulders. I got out of the pickup in a parking lot under mostly cloudy skies and no rain, it’s amazing what 25 miles in the Gorge can do to weather (Sarah later told me it rained all day at home!) I stripped off my pants and proceeded to forget them with Lenny (the neighbor) and told him I thought I’d be ok without the rain gear. So all I would have from this point out would be one rain jacket and a couple of garbage bags, not what you might call a storm proof system if one were to get caught out 30 miles from the nearest town. I hoped for the best, and the best delivered!

What followed were seven days of the best weather I could have hoped for and road conditions that were usually ideal. In some areas the chip seal vibrated me to such a degree I would shout my disapproval aloud to nobody in particular. Some stretches were so boring I took to telling the drivers they should move from their own personal hell (of course this was also aloud yet I think my words fell on deaf ears as I was traveling about 16 mph on those flat stretches and even the slow cars were probably cookin’ along at 55 mph.) Oh well, letting them know of my disapproval for their home county made the time pass more interestingly than if I had kept my opinions to myself.

I passed through some of the most unique areas I’ve ever seen. Oregon is a beautiful and diverse place with long stretches of sparsely populated country and roads that are nearly vacant of cars yet delightfully smooth and clean road surfaces, THANK ODOT! John Day Fossil Beds; Clarno, OR on the John Day River; Prairie City, OR in the foothills of the Blue Mtns (where incidentally it had snowed and rained a little the day before I arrived; he hills still had a dusting on them) a double mountain pass in the Blues that was beautiful and difficult, many smaller passes that slowly increased the overall elevation, and some downright dirty redneck filled places like Spray, OR; Unity, OR; and don’t forget Shaniko, OR where you can’t go too far without seeing a rattlesnake, a for sale sign, or a building that looks like it should be given bonefide ghost town status, were some of the highlights of my trip.

I slept for free the entire way, pitching my tent in lawns outside closed milkshake shops, schools, city parks, and my best night of the trip, the woods along the SF of the Payette River just north of Garden Valley, ID, followed by a shower in a nearby hot spring! Sleeping for free doesn’t come without it’s costs though. I battled with a sprinkler that threatened to tear into my tent like a Howitzer, rolly-polly bugs that must have loved the stink on the butt of my riding shorts because they were all over them one morning when I opened the tent door and grabbed the clothes I had left outside to “air-out.” Lights that came on right outside the tent door and were bright enough to rival aroura borealis, transformers and ballasts from security lights that hummed like Mack trucks, locals giving me the eye as if to say, “are you going to sleep there?” But for the most part, people were nice if sometimes clueless, drivers were generally very respectful of me and my right to share the road. Only 3 or 4 cars were closer than I would have liked, but still not dangerous…that’s amazing since the trip was over 600 miles! (Three cyclists were killed by motorists in Boise alone in the last month!) The first few days were through pretty desolate stretches of Oregon, so I was careful to find out where the next water stops would be as I only had two water bottles with me to cut down on overall weight. Because of this lack of grocery stores along the way, I ate raisin bran and milk for dinner and breakfast the first two days. It worked ok. I had good lunches each day that definitely helped me go the distance. I also had a massive stash of various energy bars and additives for my water that would all add much needed calories to my diet and offer me a sense of self-sufficiency if I happened to not pass a store for an extended period of time.

Miraculously my ass only became annoyingly sore on the last 100 miles. I rode the route fairly aggressively, doing 93 miles, then 75, 83, 102, 96, 85, 63 to finish in Ketchum and get some lunch. Sarah met me for the final 20+ miles and that was awesome. As soon as she met me the wind kicked up something fierce so I hid behind her and tried to keep up with her fresh legs (she’s becoming a pretty strong rider!) I gave myself a day off and bounced around town meeting friends and running errands then did a short mtn bike ride the following day with another the day after that. I hope to keep up the momentum as I have a ride on July 30th that circumnavigates Mt. Rainier, 155 miles and over 10,000 of elevation gain in a day. I was pretty intimidated before, now I think it’ll be a fun challenge as I won’t have that pig of a trailer nagging at me up each hill. I’ll be light and fast and hopefully the weather will be as good as it was for this little adventure.

Although I can safely say I never want to ride through the Midwest as I think all that flat farmland might force me to crush my own head between two hard objects, I have been looking at other routes to beautiful places. Seeing our world via a bicycle is a unique experience, and one doesn’t even have to travel far from home. It’s slow, yet fast, interesting even when there’s very little to see, and the ways in which people interact with bicycle travelers has generally proven to me to be much more amicable. Cars make people irritable as they promote a sense of urgency. Life should be simple, enabling people to focus on what is important, and slow enough to realize when and where that importance can be noticed and appreciated.

For now I’m in Idaho with Sarah and the animals for another couple weeks, hoping to bike my brains out on the great trails that are here. We also plan to have countless awesome dinners with great friends that we see too infrequently, then I’m back to WA for some raft guiding and kayaking, more riding, and maybe some climbing, that forgotten sport I use to enjoy so much! Take Care, get out and enjoy life. You never know when you might kick the bucket!

More pics here, hopefully the link works:

http://picasaweb.google.com/jarredjackman/WAToIDSoloBikeTour2009#

My First Modeling Gig

A couple of weeks ago a student at Camas asked if Nic and I would be models for her final digital photography project. I readily accepted, as no one had ever asked me to model and I figured I'd get some good photos of Nic out of the gig. We met early one Saturday and had fun posing, changing outfits and making Nic look pretty. Nic liked the eating parts, he wasn't really into standing around with his ears cocked forward. After looking at the photos, I realized that I'm not model material. I rarely get my haircut and it shows and I can't look into the sun without squinting and I really don't like changing clothes. The photos were fun though.

24 Hrs of Extreme Fun

What better way to spend Memorial Day than to ride our mountain bikes for 24 hours! That's right, 24 hrs. I've got to hand it to Jarred he keeps our lives pretty exciting.

Last fall, Jarred decided that he wanted to race in a 24 hr. mountain bike race. He chose the Round and Round in Spokane because of the closeness to our house (our other choices were Moab, Wisconson or somewhere back east) and because it's suppose to be a good intro race for those who have never raced in a 24 hr. race before. Jarred had actually never even raced his mountain bike but as everyone knows, Jarred does not like to start small and wean his way into a sport. His idea of introducing himself to a sport is to do the hardest run, climb or route possible and THEN see if he wants to continue pursuing the sport.

Originally I'd volunteered to run support (cook, fill water bottles, clean bikes and keep tired racers motivated in the wee hours of the night) but Jarred's team ended up needing a fourth person, so before I knew it, I was gearing up to ride my mtn. bike 90 miles over the course of 24 hrs. I have to admit, I was a little intimidated because not only had I never ridden my mtn. bike more than 20 miles but I'd also never raced my mtn. bike. Jarred's team consisted of two other riders from the Portland area, Ryan Kiligran and Chris Brannen. Both ride obsessivly and race although they too had never raced a 24 hr. race. At least they'd ridden on longer rides and knew how to ride in groups! I went into the experience figuring I'd be happy if I could consistantly ride through the 24 hrs and not bonk.

Jarred and I arrived at the course Friday morning to claim a "sleeping" spot and to check out the course. We had my truck full of biking gear, tents, tables and more food than we really needed. This bike racing was proving to be like going to a horse show...one can't go without a lot of STUFF. As we set up our camp, we ran into some Idaho friends...some professional mountain biking Idaho friends. Those who were not professional mountain bikers had been professionals at some sort of sport in the past. I'd forgotten that everyone from Sun Valley is has had some sort of professional extreme sports career. This added to my intimidation. What was I doing out with all these gnarly bikers...people who'd won the 24 hr. World Championships last year????

As Jarred and I headed out to pre-ride the course, my fears were somewhat squealched. The course proved to be a great beginners course...not too steep, not too techincal...15 miles of pretty easy terrain. Now could I just ride that course 6 times?

Ryan, Chris, Jarred and I finally met up Saturday morning a couple of hours before the race started. It was decided that I would do the first lap because the first lap required a running start, called a Le Mans start. All the bikers line up at the start line and run 600 yards around a course and back to their bikes. The point of this is to break the riders up...imagine 200 riders starting out on a course all at once...I saw the rationale behind the Le Mans start. I didn't see the rationale behind why I had to be the first rider....once the guys found out that they had to run the first lap...their bodies started breaking down. Chris had a sore knee, Jarred's ankle was still sore from falling down Mt. Hood. As I agreed to do the running and first lap, I wondered how these poor ailing boys would get through 24 hrs of riding.

The next 24 hrs flew by. Every three and a half hours, I would get on my bike and ride the 15 mile loop. Riding in the dark proved to be a different experience. I'd ridden at night before, for fun, but not in a race on a course that was super dusty. Once the sun went down and we put our lights on, the dust felt like riding through fog. Between the dark and the dust, my lap times slowed down by about 10 minutes. I was averaging 1:15 laps, the guys were averaging 1:00 laps. Ryan was our strongest rider even though he quickly decided that 24 hr. races were not for him. He continuously posted sub 1 hr. times and was the ever present bike mechanic for our team. The hardest lap by far was my 1 am lap. I just didn't want to get on my bike, my body was telling me that I should be in bed, not huffing and puffing for another hour! The motivator in the wee hours of the night was that our team was sitting 6th overall in our 4 man open division. We'd started out the race just wanted to finish and were thrilled to be doing so well. Unfortunatly, we slowed down a little and were not going to get as many laps in as other teams, so we ended up dropping to 11th out of 24 teams by the end of the race. I was still impressed. And after 6 laps I was still alive! I still felt like a weenie though as I congradulated the girl and her husband camped next to us. They'd both soloed the event (that's right, they rode as much as they could ALONE for 24 hrs.) and the girl was acting like she hadn't even rode, she was so chipper. I wanted to ask her if she'd just taken a bunch of meth and rode the race because I didn't even feel as chipper as her and I'd ridden on a team!

I came away from the race really feeling like I'd accomplished something. Not only was I toasted from the exertion but I was motivated to ride harder and longer and to come back and do the race again next year.

When People Become Numbers

I don't consider myself old but I can't help but see a trend in the thirty or so years that I've been around. I see people becoming numbers. At the bank, we're known by our account number. We have pin numbers, social security numbers, copy numbers, I'm even given a number at a horse show. Last week at Costco, Jarred and I had to take a number to see the optometrist. The realization hit again today when I was informed that I would not have a job at Camas High School next year. The reasoning? Numbers.
As many of you know (may not agree but know), George W. and his administration fucked the economy. Not only has this affected retail owners and the mortgage business but it's also drastically affected education. In my district alone, we are looking at $1.7 million in cuts. That number includes cuts to three elementary schools, two middle schools and one high schools. And when the school board and district administrators look at what to cut, they look at numbers. They look at the number of students entering high school, they look at the number of students enrolled in classes, they look at the number of teachers staffing a building. They look at the number of years each of those staff have taught. They look at the number of support staff...and then they start cutting.
I think the school board and district administrators would like us to believe that they look at the people who teach in their classrooms and examine the quality of education those people are providing, the students who sit in the desks and the needs of those students, the para-educators who aid those students needing extra help. But they don't. They always go back to numbers. I could have had twelve letters of recommendation stating that I was a tremendous teacher, but it still goes back to numbers.
This afternoon, as I was being told that there may be a possibility that I could apply for a potential opening and that I was really valued at Camas but it all came down to the number of incoming freshmen and the current number of English teachers. Numbers, that word came back to haunt me.
Ayn Rand was a smart lady. She knew what she was talking about when she wrote Anthem. As I sit here listening to the rain wondering where I will be teaching next year, I can’t help but wonder when we will no longer be known by our individual names but numbers and realize I can see that day coming soon as even the people who educate today’s youth are viewed as a number and not a quality individual who has the patience and gift to connect with those they teach. Where have we gone wrong and how long will money continue to be the driving force in our society?

On a side note: I took the job at Camas knowing I was on a one-year contract. I replaced a woman who took a leave of absence to have her fourth or fifth child. She did decide to not come back, but because of numbers, it was decided that the position was no longer needed. So, yes, I did know that there would be a possibility that I would not have a job next year. But I am the continuous optimist and once I realized that I really liked and fit in at Camas, I figured my job would turn into a continuing contract. Lesson learned? Screw optimism.

Death to all computer repair men!

Wonder why I've not posted any photos lately?

Wonder why I've not posted many blogs?

I'll blame it on computer repair men. Not the fact that I've been on my bike more or riding my horse more. Both are true, but the bane of my computer progess lately has been computer repair men.

Jarred and I have an older Dell. We're told it's "old" but it seems to still run fine, it's just getting slow and has weird quirks like the cursor moving to a new spot while we type. We've had it worked on a couple of times this year due to some virus's and us not being techie nerds and piling too much stuff onto the poor thing. We'd been able to deal with the slowness until Jarred started an online Adobe Photoshop class. After numerous nights of swearing at the thing, we decided to seek an "experts" opinion. We made the mistake of taking it to Best Buy. We were going for convienence. Not what we got. We were told we'd either need a new computer or else spend $140 on "updates." The "updates" seemed to elusive so we took it back to our original "repair" place. We were told we'd need different ram, but after waiting for a week, that never transpired so we decided to have Jarred's mom's "repair man" look at it. To the tune of $150 he told us we needed new ram and found us a deal at Staples...couldn't we have done this? And now we have a faster computer (we installed the ram ourselves) BUT our camera won't register when we plug the USB in. Back to square one.

Through all this I've learned that being uneducated about a product can really cost one a lot of money. I feel like I should take a basic computer class...at least I'd know something. And I learned that my measly teacher salarly is looking sadder and sadder....I can find a product online for someone for $150? Any takers?

Street Roots

Each time Jarred and I go to Portland, we questions the sanity of the homeless people who live in Portland. I know, questioning their sanity is pointless, but if I were to be a homeless person, I would definitely head to some place like San Diego. Warm, dry and full of cheap taco stands. Regardless, Portland seems to be a bum friendly city. I can't decide if that means that the bums are more friendly to each other OR the city is friendly to the bums but bums are a plenty in the Rose City. Admittedly, I'm one of those people who does not give to those who beg. I figure I provide enough social services to the general population through my job, giving a dollar to someone who is not working isn't high on my list.

So as Jarred and I approached the REI Portland a couple of weeks ago and a meth mouthed bum asked Jarred if he wanted to buy a newspaper we'd never heard of, I kept walking. Jarred, being the social butterfly he is, stopped to see what type of newspaper this fine citizen was selling. Who would have thought that this brief encounter would make such an impact on my view of the homeless?

Street Roots is a non-profit newspaper that homeless people can sign up to sell. The newspaper focuses on Portland news, specifically social and political events. Stories are written by the staff, some are homeless, some are members of the non-profit group who is responsible for producing the paper. The stories are often eclectic but well written and often offer an interesting perspective into the lives of the homeless in Portland.

The paper sells for a dollar. The seller makes $.75 for each paper he/she sells. Each seller can sell as frequently or infrequently as he/she wants. They are assigned locations throughout the downtown area. Not only do they receive money, but they also can receive clothing and basic toiletries. The idea behind the paper is to provide basic employment to people who may not always qualify for a "real" job for whatever reason.

I was thoroughly impressed by this idea. I feel that this is a great alternative to begging. It provides basic structure to the lives of the displaced and it made me see these people as individuals, not a collective lazy group of losers. Each time I've read the paper, I've read a different story about the good will of people and the way in which people become displaced. It gave me a whole new perspective and the realization that community is much more important than I thought.

Oh My God, I Love Sweatshop Union!

I've never been a big concert goer and am open to listening to a good variety of music. I'll even admit to listening to and enjoying the occasional top 40 stations. Since Jarred started kayaking and obsessing about the sport, I've been privy to a number of kayaking videos. Other than the momentary entertainment of a guy hucking himself off a 50 ft. waterfall, I don't have much use for the videos, however they do have great soundtracks. This is where I was introduced to Sweatshop Union. We both like the group so much that we skipped school one Thursday to see them in Hood River late one Wednesday night. They look like a bunch of BMX bike dirt bags and white gangsta wanna-be's but the music is great!