Begun

Yesterday my season of changing lives one Junior Ranger at a time began. It was a thrill a minute first day. Eight hours of seasonal check-in that was remarkably similar to last year's check and the previous year, only four hours longer. Fantastic. I should have know by the way the day got started that is was going to be an all-star day.
My husband has always been concerned about me getting the adequate vitamins and minerals my body requires. Kind of weird I know. For one birthday in college he bought me the Costco size container of Vitamin C pills. Super romantic. To his credit though there was a sweet North Face sleeping bag to go along with my super sized bottle of immune system boosting vitamins. Anyways recently he has renewed his motivations to keep my bones healthy and my immune system strong by buying me once-a-day vitamins. But he knows that just buying them for me does not mean I will remember to consume them once a day. So in very Clay Hanna fashion he has started leaving them out for me everyday in a shot glass. Yes I realize we are only 26 and this kind of sounds like something we will be doing for each other when we are 76, but at least they are in a shot glass and not one of those Tupperware containers with the days written on it. So yesterday in my anxiousness and excitement to get to seasonal check in (which I was late for because I couldn't find it) I woke up late and didn't have time for breakfast. I still downed my shot glass of life lengthening pills as I ran out the door. Bad idea. As we were passing Taggart Lake I started to experience little ripples of nausea that continued to increase to full on waves of nausea as we passed Beaver Creek. By the time we were to Windy Point turnout (2.5 miles from our house) I was experiencing nausea that I can only assume is similar to the first trimester of pregnancy. I was also asking Clay loudly to pull over. I then proceeded to vomit the contents of my stomach including previously mentioned vitamins on the side of the road. At Windy Point turnout. With traffic passing by. Awesome. After a couple minutes of that fun I began to feel normal again and proceeded on towards seasonal check-in.
So what is the moral of this blogging session? Always eat before consuming ANYTHING out of a shot glass. Clearly. Otherwise you are probably going to find yourself on the side of the road puking your guts out :)

Done

Yeah, so that's a lame-o title, but I'm on day 7 in a row, staring 8, 9, 10, and 11 in the face and just finished my stint as the human stoplight for memorial day weekend at Yosemite. Over all, it was not too bad. I did get to make my first bike stops. That was pretty neat. No one expects to be pulled over by a ranger on a bike. It's genius. I have not, however, seen more gridlock save say Bay Area traffic at rush hour than I saw in Yosemite on Sunday afternoon. The valley was gridlocked inbound and outbound. It was amazing. I pulled the patrol vehicle into an illegal parking spot, pulled my bike off the back and just rode in between the cars. Way faster response time. It was like that for close to three hours. It was much like being in Chicago and less like being in a national park. And I was much more a traffic control device and less a ranger. Such a bizarre place, this Yosemite Valley. It is truly its own beast. I am sad to leave it, as beastly as it is. I think that is what I like about it. But more than that, there are really exceptional people here. That is perhaps the biggest downfall of this whole move. Leaving exceptional people. And not in that, "well they're nice" sort of way, but in that "Man, y'all are really outstanding in your own ways and I've been lucky to work with you for even a short time" sort of way. And although I'm sure they were tempted, not a one of them made me feel like an idiot, which would have been very easy to do. There was this one poor ranger who got stuck with me more days than not, having to listen to me babble on in my usual way, having to explain everything to me every day... I think he was just a little excited when I chose bike patrol this week. But pointing to the exceptional quality of the folks I work with, he was exceedingly patient, funny, and kinda let me do my own thing, even though I'm sure he would have done it more efficiently and timely. But I learned. And laughed. And made fun of myself a lot. And it was a pretty damn fun 7 weeks. So, I am going to perhaps the least beastly and unpopulated of all places in the NPS... a monument no one has ever heard of before. Huh. We shall see. I shall be so lucky as to work with folks a fraction of the quality as I have found here in the valley. How lucky and what a cool thing to be able to say? For now, back to packing. For a dissertation on how I feel about that topic, see the previous entries regarding moving and packing. Thanks for reading the distraction.

Seeing the Forest for the Trees

Bear and I walk through Yosemite Valley every day. Usually we are bombarded by so many small children wanting to either pet or laugh at the three legged dog. This evening a cold rain came to the Valley and our evening walk was significantly different. Being the calm before the storm of Memorial Day weekend, this was a welcomed change. We walked out to Cooks Meadow, past the Redwinged Blackbirds and the mallard pair in the ephemeral pools. The visitors seemed to all be bundled up somewhere in their tent cabins. We stopped at a bridge over a seasonal pond. Bear laid down, enjoying the break, and I laid down on my belly and hung my head over the pond, looking for tadpoles. I was checking to see if they had gotten legs yet. Still too early for legs, I suppose. Meanwhile, a father and his two sons stopped on the bridge.

The son got off his bike and said, "Hey Dad, C'mere! This is what she was looking at!"

The dad came over and said, "Wow! What an amazing reflection!"

He promptly got out his camera and began shooting away. I looked back at the pond and saw a perfect reflection of the 2500 foot Yosemite Falls in the still waters of the tadpole pond.

"Actually," I said, "I was looking at the tadpoles there in the pond. I didn't even see the reflection."

"Well isn't that interesting. We didn't even see the tadpoles," replied the dad.

And it is for these moments that I work in Our National Parks.

Another Lesson Learned About Cute Underwear

I am not a cyclist. Like I am not a climber. Like I am not a runner. Like I am not a skier... no wait, that's a lie, I am a skier. But the point is, I am one of those people who does a lot of things in a mediochre fashion, with the exception of skiing, at which I'd like to think I am okay. For example... I climb socially, like when I have people to climb with and there will be beer at the end of the day. When I'm into it, I'm into it and can get up some 5.10c's with the best of them. When I'm not into it, I struggle hopelessly up a 5.9 crack and flounder my way through a 5.7 offwidth with significant cursing and grunting. And it really only bothers me a little. When I'm into running, I run often. Slow, but often. And when not, I don't feel that bad. But with each of these sports, when you do them, there are little tricks that you pick up as a novice moving through the stages of development. In my years of mountaineering and ski touring I have finally learned how to pack a winter pack and keep it under 45 pounds. It only took like 8 years. This is the peril of doing a lot of things infrequently. So what I have learned about riding a bike after three straight 9 hour days on one... the lessons have been many. I learned I could ride both up and down stairs, wriggle my little bike through tight cones, and jump small logs in a graceless bound. But perhaps the most valuable lessons was related to, as I find many of the best lessons are, cute underwear.

So having worked in a few visitor centers in my day, I have always sort of mocked the spandex shorts. Okay. This week I have discovered the genius of the spandex shorts. There is no part of riding a bike that is good for regular shorts. I'll let your imaginations fill in the rest. Okay, and the seam issue. So after day two which was particularly hot, I realized why cyclists often run commando in the spandex. Now, me, not being a cyclist, would have assumed panty line issues. Okay, well, not really, but it is a consideration... No, the real reason is related to the seams on your cute girly underwear and the pressure enacted upon them by your seat. Unfortunate. See, if I was a cyclist, I would know this, and therefore, this mistake could have been avoided. I know there were other folks in this class that had this epiphany many years ago and surely look at me as I look at backpackers with garbellion hanging loose all over their packs. As if to say "Oh, seriously. Look at that poor sap."

Many things I have done this year have been learning experiences for me. This one goes out to all my fellow females who occasionally ride their bikes to work, or to the store... If embarking on a lengthy ride of any kind, say a light tour, or a mountain bike ride, my advice is to rock a little Under Armor and to leave the Victoria's Secret in the drawer. See all the cool new stuff I'm learning at work? Man, what a job!

Notes From the Field

I always wanted to be in a field somewhere so that that was applicable. Anyways... I have misplaced my camera, so no pics, but here's a quick update from the California crew of the Mac and Beardog... Bear and I are hanging in at Yosemite. This week started my 7 days in a row at Yosemite followed by one day of paid moving (so technically I'm working) and the next day starting right up at the Postpile. I think I'll be ready for a large drink when I finally get a real day off. But, really, when am I not game for a large drink? So this week, I'm rolling through bike patrol training... the obstacle course hurt a lot. Don't fall on your gun side. Just a tip for the rest of you who are riding around on bikes with sirens and a gun on your hip. Oh, come on, I know you work it on your weekends... I may have funny pics of me riding up stairs later... So, just a visual, for those of you who can't picture 13 rangers riding around Yosemite on matching bikes with matching T-Shirts that say PARK RANGER, FEDERAL OFFICER in big black letters... It's like a huge bike gang--- all of us wreaking havoc on the valley in formation. Hilarious really. We were on minute away from getting power rings, circling up, and yelling out something akin to "Thundercats, HOOOOOOOOOOOO." Then they turned us loose to run amok and make traffic stops. Dispatch was pissed. Apparently 13 call ins for seat belt violations was more than they thought necessary. One of them did however result in a sweet arrest. That's right. Here in Yosemite, we pull you over for a seat belt and then you end up in jail. Moral? When you see craploads of guys with guns riding around on matching bikes, odds are that they're up to no good. So put your seat belt on and hide your warrants in the glove box. Tonight they're turning us loose at night. Oh Boy! Then to the shenanigans that will be traffic copping on Memorial Day weekend. I think that's what we do in the valley on that weekend. Write parking tickets. Super. So that is the update... official start date at the Postpile is one week from today, Thursday. It's apparently happening. I'll try to find my camera, because seriously, Aimee, Bear, and I went to Mammoth last weekend to move a bed and it was amazing. It reminded me a little bit of the San Juans in Colorado. And given my affinity for the San Juans, that can't be a bad sign. And we met a nice bartender who invited us to a Flogging Molly show in Tahoe. I found that to be a good sign as well.

Within a Mile of Home...

Actually I have about 800 miles and a lot of Nevada (and by a lot I mean all of it) to get across before I get to our summer abode in the Tetons. But I will be counting down the miles one by one until I get there. The good news is Clay stocked me up with new cds before he made his way across the Silver State and the Snake River Brewery in all it's beautifulness will be at the end of this journey. Oh yea and my husband will be there as well. (at the brewery I mean) Super. This summer will no doubt be different than previous summers. There are several faces that will be missing from our antics and adventures. But I believe we all end up where we need to be and I am stoked about the summer to come. My latest update from the Tetons said the ice on Jackson Lake has barely even cracked yet. And Clay is heading out early tomorrow before work to get some laps in at Laurel Lake, which he said you can still ski down to the car from. Fantastic. But with our plans for next winter still very much unknown I would have to admit that there are many things about the 'Silver State' I will miss if we do not return. My landlord not being one of them. The seizure inducing flashing lights of downtown Carson City I will not miss either. But I am thankful for the time I have had here and the good folks we have met. Here are a couple things I will miss about this place.

T Our Neighbors

The Lake

Hike up Mt. Tallac in October

The Herwiggy Ski Factory

Sweet, Sweet January 15'+ of fluffy emotional goodness

Getting out of the Valley One Step at a Time

Literally, one carefully carved step placed on the steepest sections of trail with a mortar of sand and water at a time. Today's hike, like many trails in the valley, was straight up and included a multitude of impressive steps carefully placed by the CCC 70 years ago and ironically enough, they are all still maintained by the CCC today. There were at least 15 underpaid, overdressed kids between the ages of 17 and 22 replacing steps, moving logs, and dripping with sweat, putting in their time in Your National Parks. I didn't have the heart to tell them there was an easier way to get your foot in the door. Today I hiked the Yosemite Fall trail from Camp 4 to the top. It was 3000 vertical feet up in 3.5 miles. Neat. I very rarely go into 3000 vertical feet lightly... even though it's roughly half the elevation gain to many of the peaks in the Tetons. Still, I pack my Camelbak, a couple of granola bars, a fleece, some medical tape, and a rain jacket. And I feel prepared. Man did I learn a thing or two today about how to hike in Yosemite...

So here's how you do a 7 mile round trip, 3000 foot climb, Yosemite style:

1. Wear jeans or some other heavy, yet fashionable fabric

2. Wear a tight cotton t-shirt bearing the name of your favorite fraternity/sorority.

3. Fashion forward shades are a MUST. If they don't take up your entire face, you are LAME.

4. Carry all of your "hiking gear" in one of two containers--- either a black trash bag (doubles as a raincoat, you know) or an eco friendly tote.

5. Footwear, well, some sort of metro style rubber soled low support casual tennis shoe, clearly.

6. Bring no more than one pint of sparkling water in your favorite over priced container.

7. Large jewelery is preferred, but not required.

8. Bring your dog.

I was soooo not cool. But the hike was delightful and I was entertained the majority of the way. Kinda like when you go to the airport. The people watching is amazing. I've included some selected photos for your enjoyment. I felt it rude to photograph the actual visitors, but don't think I didn't think about it. I did. It would have been way funny. But to explain when I got caught would have been an awkward moment for which I was not in the mood. Enjoy!

To the DEPO

Yep, that's DEPO, like Devil's Postpile, not depot, like where you wait for the bus or where my friend Barb works in Olympic (sorry Barb!) So, I got this job in this itty bitty little monument known as the Postpile. It's a bit of a pay raise and I get that always coveted government status. Neat. But more than that, it is cold there, I can ski till June, and ski more in November. Where are my priorities?!? On my Black Diamonds, that's where. So it's a neat gig and it is a mere 25 minutes from Mammoth Lakes, which I hear is an okay little spot. See attached photo, then promptly buy your plane tickets to Reno, rent a car, and come on out to my little cabin in the Ansel Adams wilderness. Door is open, as per standard operating procedure. :) And rumor is my phone will work, so just give a holler if you need a mountain vacation.

Snow, Rain, and of course, a little Blood

As typical when Aimee and I are left to our own devices, we spend the night before drinking beer until 1 am then drag ourselves kicking and screaming out of bed to do something ill advised. Today it was skiing in the rain. After trying to rehydrate quickly this morning, we headed up to Carson Pass in hopes that the weather would hold. It did for a minute. We began our skin up in shorts and t-shirts. I love spring skiing! The snow at the parking lot was so sun cupped and full of pine needles it was much like running a little obstacle course on your skis. Fortunately it got better as we got higher. But then dark clouds started to roll in and the temperature dropped about 20 degrees. It started snowing. Aimee was still in shorts. As the snow continued to fall harder, we ascended to the top of the ridge and scoped out our very soft line. Aimee had made the unfortunate mistake of not having full zip ski pants and therefor had to ski the run in board shorts. Neat. She managed t0 mostly avoid catastrophe on the first run. It was the second one that left red marks in the snow. But you always get extra points at the end of the day when you're bloody. After two laps, we decided that with her knees creating a haz mat site in the snow and my myocardial contusion (Aimee diagnosed me) that I'm still apparently suffering from after my little bike debacle, we should head out and take a nap. As we got to the CR-V, there was a flash of lightning, a crack of thunder, and we sat on the tailgate with our turkey wraps and watched the first spring thunderstorm rolling in over the High Sierra. It doesn't get much better than snow, rain, and of course, a little blood.

See more pics of today's adventures at the picasa web albums site. :)

These Turns Brought To You By Herwiggy

Under the skillfull guidance of Mr. Mark Lobsinger Clay has successfully made one of his coolest projects to date. A pair of 183 cm 124/88/115 tele-skis. Model name 'Little Mexico'. They are the third pair of skis to come out of the Lobsinger ski building factory. We took them out this morning. They are sweet.

The Process

The Little Mexicos and Clay getting ready for their first turns together.

Happy Hannas on the way back down the mountain.

The Sweet Footage