A Word From Beardog

Me at Upper Little Lake in Rock Creek Canyon

Me and my mom at Upper Little Lake

As this is partially my blog too, I thought I'd weigh in. So this last week, my mom left me. She left me with the other two dogs. And that day started off so well! I got a walk at like 6 in the morning, it was still cool and pleasant. I saw bags going into the red car, but I figured I was outside, so I must be going. I should have known something was up though when they were putting bags in the red car. I can't fit in that damn car. Not with those other animals. Well, I was promptly put in the back yard and watched the car drive away without me. Stupid. But then things got better.

Clay and Aimee didn't go. And Aimee is a sucker! I got to sleep in their room (YES!) and woodwork with Clay. My favorite part is rolling in the wood shavings. And hanging out with the other dogs was okay too. Tiksha tries to play bite face a lot which is super annoying, but I'm over it.

When they got back from this trip they said it was super hot. I hate being hot. And they went to some place that doesn't allow dogs on the trails. Something about big trees. I don't know, but it sounds like I was better off rolling in wood shavings. But then we went for the sweetest hike ever the next day. Oh man, so many lakes! I swam in every one of them! I chased some squirrels, and while that black dog was lost chasing a bear, I got to lay down in the river. I hopped 4.8 miles that day. I was super tired when I got home, but my mom gave me lots of chicken treats and let me sleep for two days straight. I'm feeling better now and ready for my next adventure!

On Reverting back to old habits

Honestly, there have been very few good things that have come out of this stupid broken foot. Most of this process has been a lesson in tolerance. Particularly since moving back to the Eastern Sierra. I skied my first day of the season on May 17. It was exceedingly painful, but totally worth it. Beautiful corn snow at 8:30 a.m. I skied 2 hours, and went immediately back to the couch to ice. Hiking usually ends the same way. 2 hours, ice.

Yesterday marked 1 year since I forgot my shoes and decided to play ultimate barefoot anyways. Obviously, in hindsight, that decision was sub-par to say the least. I do feel, however, that I have gotten a taste of what life would be like if I wasn't the type of person that inevitably I am. For one, you get way more laundry done in a much more timely manner. Your bathroom stays cleaner. Your dog gets walked more. You take up hobbies you would have never thought of. For example, there is now a garden on my roof. Spinach, tomatoes, rosemary, bell peppers, and squash. I voluntarily did lawn work. We raked our entire yard clean of pine needles, cones, and winter debris from the snowplows.

I have not gotten lost in any canyons, swam in any alpine lakes, stood on top of any peaks, or camped in a rocky spot far from screaming children and the roar of diesel generators.
I like that my bathroom is clean. My dog likes that he is walked more. I will enjoy the veggies later this summer. But all the cookie baking and clean carpets in the world are poor substitutes for watching the sunrise over an alpine lake. Thursday I go in to try to figure out what to do next. Hopefully this will be better by the time the first snow flake falls in the high country. My 2009-2010 ski pass is hanging on the key rack like a bikini on a hanger for a compulsive dieter.

Until then, I'm enjoying watching a red breasted sapsucker near my bird feeder and I'll probably go buy more potting soil today, coming to terms with the fact that although alpine lakes may not be in the cards for this summer, winter is still far away and I have plenty of time to get better. Hopefully this year, that logic will prove true and I will revert back to my old habits... skiing till the burning in your legs is too bad to bear, your nose is peeling from the sunburn you can't get rid of no matter how much sunscreen you put on, and the only think you can think about doing when you get home is eating dinner, drinking a beer, and going to bed. No bathroom cleaning, laundry, or planting. My apologies to house guests when that happens. Better come out this summer while I'm still motivated to vacuum daily.

The moral of this story? If your feet will take you there, you should go and enjoy every minute you're there.