Happy Birthday Daddy Grumpa Max!

See this handsome young lad here?

Well, it's his birthday.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!

(I know he's reading this and giving me exactly this face right now! Or this goofy look.)

You know what? I don't care. We came too close to honoring this birthday in a completely different manner so I'm going to put up all the photos I like. That I'm conveniently an entire country away so you can't swat at me is of no matter.

I love that we stay in touch through all the new technology, that you try so hard and send me articles, and book links/suggestions, and have me order stuff from Amazon.com for you even though you obviously are tech-savvy enough to do it yourself, and we get the train-of-thought-middle-of-the night odd e-mails, and we have our weekly chats on the phone (when Mom shares the phone lines). I know that even if we don't talk every day that you are thinking about me. It goes both ways.

But I'm really glad that we get all the in-person quality time when I come out to visit for the long winter holidays. Thanks for leading the way up "hills" (easy hikes, my foot!), through calm still waters,

through the rocky valleys of trials and tribulations, for being there when we need to shoot off our mouths and let off some steam, for teaching us how to stand up and protect ourselves,

but mostly for being a great dad, grandpa, help-meet and healer.

I know that you're up the creek without your paddle right now, and that you are "rudderly" sick of momentary restrictions on your normal natural way of relaxing, but patience. Please. You have to stick around down here with us for a long long long long time - so in the eternal scheme of things, this isn't even a tick of a second. You need to be better for our next date on Sand Hollow. Maybe we can paddle further out than the shallows this time?

You are my rock and my heart.

Happy Birthday!

Here's to many more.

Photos from Dec. 2011-Jan. 2012 trip out West to Utah: kayaking on Sand Hollow, hiking in Snow Canyon, Johnson Canyon, and Temple Quarry, and shooting in an undisclosed location

Vacation Days with Drew: Hiking Temple Quarry

What happens when a Mountain Goat and Mountain Lion take a Scaredy Cat hiking? Well ... something like this.

Grumpa Max (the Mountain Lion) and Drew (the Mountain Goat) apparently take a lot of hikes throughout southern Utah, which is wonderful for them both. I was fortunate? lucky? coerced? into going with them on one of their trips while I visiting -- to a trail called Temple Quarry. I was told it was a relatively easy hike, on not too high a mountain (seriously, it's called the BLACK HILL -- so, not even considered a "mountain" around those parts), with some lovely scenery. I thought things would be fine. The day was beautiful, the weather perfect (light layers, which were shed in the noon-time sun), and the altitude not too bad.

Everything looks to start off well, and then "peace" gets throttled by "wisdom."

What they didn't tell me, and what I discovered for myself, was once you get away from the parking lot, and go around the side of the butte, that the trail narrowed in some spots, with a drastic drop-off. I think both my father and I had forgotten my issues with depth perception, heights, and physical exertion. (It's been a long time since he had to teach me to parallel parking, and he hasn't been with me in NYC for my freakouts in super high skyscrapers.) Umm. Let's just say for much of the hike, I was really REALLY quiet, focused on my feet, and hugging the side of the mountain like you would not believe. I was really trying not to embarrass myself. How ridiculous, right? Shamed by a kid and my father? I'm better on ground level, with the sheer faces of buildings hemming me in than following a hiking track. Then there were the families with small babies, that were being carried like footballs, and the geriatric solo hikers that totally lapped us. (For some reason I was MUCH better on my way back. Giving myself a unprofessional, non-medical diagnosis -- I don't like the drop-off on my left side -- proving once again that my right side, [hand, leg, eye] is my stronger one.)

Once we got to a point where the trail opened up and there was more room between it and the cliff-face, I felt like I could focus more on my surroundings. Such an area of contrasts: red Utah sand, black lava rock from the prehistoric eruptions in the area, desert flora, Drew, Grumpa, etc. Even in the gigantic boulders, you could see the difference in the types of lava flows. If you looked carefully you could see the remains of lava bubbles that exploded when they cooled, or hollows that occurred over the passage of time, where water eroded a rock into a natural basin or throne.

Bringing up the rear again, as we send the most vulnerable out to scout. Survival instinct? Maybe. Impatient goat? Definitely.

Now, I grew up in New England, so when I think quarry, I have visions of the granite quarries in the "mountains" of Vermont - dug/blasted into the sides of and/or into the bowels of the earth. I obviously didn't read the sign when we set out, as I was trying to fix my camera and not freak out and/or fall down. As we kept going around the curves, I kept waiting to see some "dig site." Once we got closer to the "main site," Grumpa started to point out the evidence of the pioneer past; the drill bites into large stones just laying where they were put by nature, or left by man; the clearings where the canteen might have been; the barbed wire fencing remnants; historical graffiti; and other evidence of pioneer fortitude.

That trail that was freaking me out? Used to be traversed regularly, by men, women, children, and mule teams, carting boulders off the hill, and then down to the valley floor. All in the southern Utah desert heat over 140 years ago. All those drill bite? Done manually. All those black rocks? Easily a couple 100 lbs to a ton or more each. That trail? Currently wider in places that it was originally.

Some things you leave alone, as a testament to the power of Mother Nature and the fortitude of man.

Here's some perspective: Can you see the intrepid mountain rock scramblers in the field of stone on the left?
Beyond the impatient goat, off in the mid-distance from his head, nestled down in the valley, is the settlement where the stone from the quarry ended up as the foundation of the most sacred building in town.

There got to be a theme to this vacation - stepping out of my comfort zone. Not only did I get out of the Apple, the Attic, and the rut I was in at work, I ended up doing a lot of things that made me initially uncomfortable. You have to try at least - or you miss things and experiences that broaden your perspective and let you spend important and concentrated periods of time with two of the most important men in your life.

I'm still a Scaredy Cat, but I'll follow the Goat and Lion all over the place. And I have. And I did -- later that week.

Vacation Days with Drew: Hiking the River

Because of work schedules, vacation schedules, and by default, I got to spend a lot of time with Drew on my most recent vacation. He's turning 7 this week, so we may end up with 7 entries all about Drew.

One sunny December day, we went out to explore one of the trails that Grumpa and Drew had previously "discovered." Due to the record floods of 2010, this walking trail along the Virgin River has been "closed" because of severe damage. A year later, the logjam debris is still wedged under bridges, and is still stuck up along the riverbanks. The river channel is also considerably wider that it used to be.

That hasn't stopped the denizens of southern Utah from exploring, and helping to monitor the pathways. All you need is some youthful energy, some supplies, and an imagination.

Are those your tracks from your last trip down the road, or dinosaur tracks?

Being a cautiously fastidious sort, Drew does not appreciate it when Mother Nature sends tumbleweeds down the trails to muck things up. (HEY! Who put this here?) He also adheres to some of the warning signs. So what if the sign says the trail is closed? Just don't bring a bike down the path. He pointed this sign out to me after we saw a bunch of bikers.

Drew's pretty fearless too. Look at him blazing away down this ... well, path isn't exactly the right term. This is where you can really see the damage from the floods. The current undercut the bank enough that the concrete trails collapsed. There's a little sliver of solid ground left, but you could slide down and go right into the water. No matter for a feckless and fearless kiddo.

Oddly though, for a kid who would be prefer to be out, about, and on the move -- he hates dirt, and REALLY hates sand in his shoes. I would spend a lot of time waiting for him to take his shoes off, try to get the sand and stuff out of his shoes and socks, and then to put them back on. At least he can tie them now -- which is excellent when I didn't want to bend over to do my own.

Like I said, he hates disorder -- and spent time clearing the tumbleweeds -- when he wasn't picking on his crazy auntie.

Me and my shadow

Summer Fridays/Weekends 2011 - Summer Streets, Part 1

One of the more delightful NYC offerings that has gained in popularity in recent years is something called Summer Streets. For three Saturday mornings in August, Park Avenue, from 72nd Street south to the Brooklyn Bridge, is closed to vehicular traffic. Pedestrians, bikers, strollers, boarders, and wheelers of all shapes, sizes, and configurations are set loose to see the City from a different perspective.

I meant to go last year, so I marked my calendar to make sure I did it this time. I was especially motivated after walking down the middle of Lexington during the March for Babies. It really is a great way to see the City. For one reason or another, August slipped by and suddenly there was only one Saturday left! I made sure clear the calendar so there would be no excuses.

My idea was to get up and be in the City by 7:00 ish, so I could take the subway uptown and start at the beginning in the Park and head south, see Grand Central from the flyover, and the continue down and over the Brooklyn Bridge. I had invited R--- to go with me, and so compromised that we would meet at Grand Central at around 9:30 and head south. I figure some is better than none. I'll do half this year, and do more next year.

Unfortunately, as I got to Grand Central and checked my phone, R--- was just waking up! In Queens! Whoops. Time was a wasting. Summer Streets is only from 7:00 am to 1:00 pm. After a few texts back and forth, a new plan was in play. I would head out and she would keep me updated on her progress in rousting her roommate out of the bathroom, getting ready, and catching a subway to the City.

Honestly, that was okay with me. I walk fast and there was so much to see. I stuck to the sidewalks. The city streets were full of bikers, runners, and boarders. Pedestrians are in the way.

l-r: Looking north toward Grand Central, you can see the Met Life building; r: South scenes. Need motivation to keep exercising? H&M decided to give you some with a gigantic bikini-clad woman. (Gee thanks!)

l-r: The sign is misleading. Bikers on the left. RUNNERS on the right. The ennui from the patrons of Les Halles is palpable. I wonder what snark Anthony Bourdain would have to say about the views.

I also like meandering around semi-deserted City Streets on the weekends. With no hordes of workerbees or tourists around, you can scan your surroundings and discover vestiges of the City of the past. l-r: This sign is on the old New York Life Insurance Company building, which takes up a whole City block. The Interborough subway predates the current MTA system. r: I found the wizard of Park Avenue, on the old Schwarzenbach Building. Apparently, this is called the Silk Clock. He's amazing. Another reason to remember to look UP!

There were many rest-stops scheduled through out the route. If you decided to stop and rest for a bit, you could park your bike with the Bike Valet.

It was crazy near the Bike Valet. You had to keep your eyes open and alert to daredevil bike messengers zipping in to stop, but more alert for the weekend warriors who were out of practice in being polite to pedestrians.

l-r: Signs alerting residents to Summer Streets. r: I had to capture this Great Dane. It's not all hand-bag/designer drop-kick dogs in the City. Oh no. Occasionally you will see GIGANTIC dogs like Great Danes, Irish Wolfhounds, and Bernese Mountain Dogs roaming the streets. Who keeps a Great Dane in a New York apartment? This guy.

Before R--- realized it, I had managed to get to the Union Square Greenmarket. After taking in the views of the lovely flowers, I parked myself on a bench in the middle of the park to give my feet a rest and to rehydrate. It worked out perfectly, because R--- could take a subway and meet me there.

I also enjoyed the time spinning a yarn about the eye candy that decided to park within my line of vision. I sent this photo off to the blog Hot Guys Reading Books, because, well? Hello?! Plus, he distracted me from how much I really wanted this yarn but totally know I can't afford hand sheared, spun, and dyed skeins from probably organic sheep reared on an organic upstate farm.

R--- found me in the shade by the statue of Abraham Lincoln and we sent off south, looking up at the ever changing skyline.

l-r: R--- is not happy I took this photo, but it's really not about her. It's about the Bostonian infiltrating Pin-stripes territory who almost photo-bombed the snapshot. That is one brave Red Sox fan. Brave man, brave. Also brave? The Summer Streets volunteers who act as traffic cops with their tiny Stop/Go signs. I wonder how many of them almost got run over by the hard-core bikers or out-of-town delivery trucks?

Bikes of all shapes, sizes, hues, vintage, and um ... decoration.

l-r: I would like to note that the photo below left is not filled with professional models. Those are just extremely well-kitted New York children. Seriously, the kids have more style than I do. Who would have thought that this REI set-up would have been so timely? Good to review camping procedures and equipment at week before Hurricane Irene came bearing down on us. REI was out in full-force in SoHo. Apparently a new store is coming in soon, just in time for those kids who have been scaling the walls with boredom since school is out.

Look at the form on this kid.

As we wandered south, I was taking all kinds of photos, trying out various formats on the camera. I must have not flipped back from black/white for these, which is too bad. Gramps had form on his reclining bike, and the sandboxes were too cute down at the tip of the island near the courthouse steps made famous by many an episode of Law and Order.

Next stop? The Brooklyn Bridge!