Walking Along

My apology for my deliquency in attending to this blog. I used to be so faithful to a weekly post. My absence is, however, explainable. The thing I most wanted to write about was undecided until only a few weeks ago. I didn’t want to spill the news before I knew exactly how things were going to play out.

Drumroll please…

I’ve accepted a position as a Nature Guide for Gastineau Guiding in Juneau, AK for the season. Their website is http://www.stepintoalaska.com/ if you want to look ‘em up.

I’m really excited about this opportunity. The amazing thing is that I turned down 3 other jobs in Alaska (2 in Ketchikan and 1 in Denali) for this one. It was definitely a stand-out. There’s a good bit of variety in the job itself - I have to earn my Coast Guard crew certification, my CIG (Certificate of Interpretive Guiding) and my CDL - commercial driver’s license.

The expeditions I’ll be involved with carry exciting names like “Whales and Trails,” “Town Tram and Trek,” and “Guide’s Choice” which will have us hiking one of two trails at the Mendenhall glacier. So the job is going to include - land, sea, wildlife, town, tram, and glacier. Pretty totally cool.

It’s no small feat to get there. If you don’t know about Juneau - it’s accessible by air or sea but not by land. It’s not an island, but it almost is if you count the mountains and glaciers that isolate it. To have a car for my nearly half-year in Juneau first requires a 3-day drive to Seattle.  Matt will drive with me and after a few days of visiting our son Samuel Matt will fly home and I’ll head to Bellingham. One a Friday afternoon the car and I will board a ferry in the Marine Hwy. to arrive in Juneau in the early morning of the following Monday.

Much time lately has been spent training - mostly on the treadmill and the elliptical because of weather. Weather. I shouldn’t even mention it. I’m going prepared for rain, rain and more rain. After all the “liquid sunshine” is necessary for the rain forest that does exist even at that northern spot. It just isn’t a tropical rain forest. No monkeys hanging about but I do expect to see plenty of bears, porcupines, eagles, sea lions and humpback whales.

I’ve done some shopping toward my wet-weather wardrobe, but will wait for most gear until I’m up there as I figure the locals will know what’s really needed. I have the basics which is good. After all, I start work 3 days after my arrival.

So I have printed the AK driver’s license manual and the CDL manual sections I’ll need to get my permit. My training on the co. vehicle will begin once I’m there. I’ve found accommodations which is something of a small miracle. 3,000 seasonal workers descend on the city of around 30,000. Limited land almost always means limited bldgs. I spent several days searching the internet for leads to apartments that were within my budget. Somehow I found one that wasn’t even advertised yet as it’s only becoming available at the end of this month. I’m really happy to share that I’ll be in the bottom half of a duplex. It’s close to downtown and opposite a harbor. There may be days I even feel like walking to work.

So in addition to my training and all the normal every day things I seem to have going on, I am beginning to figure out just what can join the ever-growing pile of furnishings, supplies, clothing, and necessities to make the great trip north. I’d rather take it with me than have to buy it there, but at the same time there’s only so much room in a little sedan. A queen-sized air mattress recently joined the pile, as did an alarm clock, a small crock pot and a painting I painted in AK 20 yrs. ago. Matt found it in the back storage bldg. and pulled it out. It’s nice to know my place will not suffer a summer of bare walls.

To that end I even spent the morning printing family photos for some inexpensive picture frames we had lying around. The toughest part of this whole adventure will be time away from Matt. The good news is that he plans on joining me a couple of times during the summer - in June and in August.

In the meantime, we’re all waiting for baby Tori to make her arrival into this world. Matt and I are on stand-by for the week hoping that she arrives sooner rather than later so that we can get to Denver before his work restricts our travel and before the road to Seattle beckons.

I’ll soon be a 56 yr. old grandmother who is a full-time hiking guide in Alaska. What a life!

Never stop dreaming. Never stop reaching for your dreams. Never stop doing.

Laugh freely, walk far,

susan                         

  www.gilahikingcenter.com      www.walkerfriendly.com    www.journeyheretothere.com

Hey all,

It’s been a little more than two weeks since the 5th running of the Ghost Town 38.5. 2010 was not only the GT’s 5th, it is also the 400th anniversary for the founding of Santa Fe, and the 2,500th anniversary of the battle of Marathon. I love celebrations so planned a good many extras along a specific theme for race weekend.

The field limit was originally set at 75. The event sold out immediately and there was a large wait list right away. Right around the time one of those far back on the wait list announced that he was was buying his plane ticket anyway, I had reason to communicate with the Forest Service over something else and during the conversation was given permission to increase the field. Suddenly we were sold out at 100.

This is normally good news for an event. I was excited about the festivities planned for the year. Some of the extras included items for the packets (and the tote bags themselves) purchased through grants that I worked diligently to procure.

Ghost Town is held on my property. We use my kitchen for much of the food prep, Matt does the post-race bbq, I even feed runners who arrive early or who linger a bit on Mon. morning. It’s part of the weekend for me - I consider them to be GT runners, but also my friends and my guests. I want everyone to have a good time.

I paid the price for my attitude this year. There’s always been one person - could be a runner, could be a spouse of a runner - who is what we call in my family a “demanda” - that person who expects the rules to be bent just for him or her, sometimes who even expects other extras like “I won’t come if you don’t have potato chips at the aid station.” It’s to be expected, it’s part of the job of the RD.

But this year…there was behavior so rude by so many that even other runners were shocked. As sad as it was for me to see the 10-12. Some pitched snit fits loudly in the presence of others. One such fit was described to me by a witness as, “The ugliest nastiest thing I’ve ever seen at an ultra - and I’ve done a lot of events.” I guess the obnoxious person thought everyone would share the loudly expressed sentiments, but in fact, that person just shamed him- or herself.

Probably one of the less loud but somewhat equally irritating issue was over the packets. As I explained, they were full of items paid for through grants or donated by sponsors. I put together enough for the runners and the volunteers. There was a day when runners wouldn’t wear a shirt from an event they didn’t attend or didn’t finish. There were at least three requests to take packets to runners who had not shown up for one reason or another. The requests ranged from mild suggestions to “well she paid for it!” to “he’s in a funk over his injury and it would mean the world to him.” It should have been easily taken care of with, “The packets are for those who are here…” but some people like to argue and don’t take “no” easily.

I felt like I was in a constant shoving match.

Two runners who missed registration arrived for the pasta party and even though they’d failed to purchase their tickets, I allowed them in line for food. They waited their turns complaining quite loudly that without their tickets they’d not win any door prizes…and then they complained about the registration hours.

Many of the volunteers are former GT runners, or runners who want to run GT some day. I receive nothing but compliments from most about the volunteers. This year, at least one aid station had at least one runner griping at them. That’s just appalling really. Many of the volunteers were out on the course by 4:30a.m. in order to be set up in time for the first runners through. I will say this, those at the front - the more well-known who are racing hard - they are always gracious. They appear with smiles on their faces. Even those at the back of the pack who are suffering because they are clearing the miles so slowly - they don’t give my volunteers any guff. For some reason, this year was different for a few in the middle of the pack. If the course was not what they expected, or if they weren’t having the run they hoped for - there was no need to be ugly to the volunteers.

You get the idea. I’ll skip the rest as it’s really tacky stuff.

Maybe this behavior is normal at events. It has not been this way at the GT in the past. Those who came to me afterward, as well as Matt and myself, commented that it seemed to be excessive “gimme gimme” and “you owe me, you owe me” going on.

Most runners had a great time. Most were gracious and happy and supportive - cheering others on, offering a hand every now and then, obeying the rules. But the 10-12 - what a bunch! The runners who’ve been at GT every year are affectionately dubbed “The Magnificent Seven.” This new group - “The Dirty Dozen” with a lot less affection.

For the last two weeks I’ve actually thought if I wanted to host GT any more. Then I’d read the comments from those who were here, and I was affirmed in that GT is something special. Thing is, it’s not for everyone. I don’t mind the runner who comes, registers, runs, and leaves…but that person does miss out on the social aspects of the event. As one runner put it, “It’s like a great reunion with 88 (89 took the start) best friends - only most of them I didn’t know until your event.”

That is an atmosphere I want to promote. I’m willing to work for weeks on end without pay, to apply for grants, to cook for days, to have no sleep, and to deal with the random crisis. To organize and organize again…to worry over every detail so that nothing that we can anticipate goes wrong. I love the event and those who “get it.”

So, instead of following my immediate inclination to shut it down because of 10-12 ill-mannered people, I borrowed a little bit from Laz. Ghost Town 2011 will be by invitation only.

Every year my charter members (those from the first running) and the runners returning from the previous year and volunteers who now want to run have received early registration. They also receive a discount. This will continue with the exception that now some alumni are not invited back.

I don’t want to stifle growth in the event, and I welcome those who haven’t been here before. For 2011, if a returning runner or volunteer has a running buddy or family member they want to vouch for - that person also receives early registration (but not the discount which is for alumni only).
So, if you’ve considered the Ghost Town as an event you want to run…check out who ran in ‘10 and see if you know someone who’ll recommend you to me.

As for total strangers unfamiliar with anyone who has already been here or who is new to the sport…this is a good event especially for those new to ultra running. We have a good number of very experienced and well-known ultra runners, and a good number of newbies to the sport. This year Jason Taylor ran his first ultra at GT and came in fifth overall. There’s now an award named for him as he had a stellar performance - best ever by an ultra-newbie at GT - and this in a fast field of accomplished runners at the front.

So for those newbies, and for those with more experience who want to try out their first GT in 2011 - come October there will be a series of interview questions to answer and send to me via email. I’ll review all I receive and some or all applicants will receive invitations as long as we do not exceed a maximum field of 100. There may be a wait list, but I can’t predict that right now.

There may be those who read this and think it’s foolish. There may be those who read it and relate. There may even be those who wonder why I’m posting this. Well, enough runners and staff were shocked at the behavior of the dirty dozen that I think it’s worth mentioning. After a few years on an online ultra-running forum, after seeing so many rants about race fees and what RDs should or should not provide, for the first time ever, I’m a little bit wary of runners. I am not expert nor am I in the position to make pronouncements about the sport changing…but I do have cause for concern.

My event - like many other events are to their RDs - is precious to me. I would rather it be smaller than have it larger with a bunch of rude ill-mannered nasty people.

I’m sure there will be many of you who think I am crazy for posting this. I could have done it quietly, not opening myself up for more baloney…but I decided to share for two reasons:

1. I think it’s important for people to know that how they behave at an event is observed by many. Those who demand special attention, privileges, bending of the rules…or are just bitter and loud…it doesn’t impress anyone. Mostly you shame yourselves, even as you irritate (or shock) those around you.

2. Even though the RD is there to give you a course to run on with an amenity or two for participating, she or he does a whole lot more behind the scenes. Every special request, every argument, every bending of the rules…it all adds up. The RD is not there to be your servant, your whipping boy or girl, or your mama. It’s not the RD’s job to teach you how to be respectful of others or to be well-mannered.

The invitations to the 2011 Ghost Town have already gone out to the 2010 group of runners and alumni. If you have run GT in a former year and would like to receive one, please email me offlist at ghosttown@journeyheretothere.com  I’d be happy to have you back.

And if you’ve never been to GT…don’t worry…the interview process will not be painful and I hope to welcome most (maybe all?) of you who want to be here in 2011.

I miss John Morelock’s posts - and his RGOT. It’s important that we remember to be gentle even when we’re at a running event.

Laugh Freely, Walk Far,
susan

www.journeyheretothere.com
www.walkerfriendly.com
www.gilahikingcenter.com

www.walkerfriendly.com/blog
www.zombierunner.com/writers/susan_talks_the_walk

I’ve just deleted nearly 500 spam messages to this blog. Not sure how it is that I’m attracting them all, but they’re now gone…until the next time.

My eyes were slightly glazed as I pressed “delete” repeatedly, but in the scrolling and the deleting, one managed to catch my attention before it inadvertantly vanished. The sender asked, “It’s after the first of the year…what’s happened to your posts?” I missed the rest as the rhythm with which my finger was hitting the button wasn’t broken and the message disappeared before I could stop myself.

My apologies to the sender. Plain and simple, I’ve been very busy. I had a great trip to the Outer Banks with Matt and daughter Hannah. We relaxed, ate too much, watch many DVDs, saw the disappointing movie “Sherlock Holmes,” and enjoyed being near the sea. My favorite outting was to a Victorian garden. We three were the only ones traipsing through the various smaller gardens contained within the larger one. The air was brisk, the sun dim, and the feeling was that the gardens existed simply for our pleasure. It was as if they were our own.

Air travel back to NM was a bit manic. We drove the 3 hours from Albuquerque to home and arrived to discover that the pump had frozen in the well, so we had no water - at all. Matt worked for a couple of days before the miraculous sound of water pushing its way through the pipes resounded in our ears just around bedtime the second night.

By this time I was fighting some sort of mild bug or sinus infection - I didn’t really care to find out which, but suffered through it for three days or so before returning somewhat to normal.

Then it was time to work on the Ghost Town 38.5 which pretty much dominates my life from Thanksgiving through…well…now. The runners come, have a great time, and leave either the day of their run or the next. I, as race director, work for weeks afterward trying to restore order to my desk, my studio, the cabin, and the property in general. It was a terrific weekend with much celebrating and a good run. The weather was about as good as anyone could hope for in January, but turned for the nasty the very next day.

Several runners, volunteers and Matt have told me the weekend was a huge success. I believe them, but my own emotions have been overshadowed by those who came and were not nice. Plainly put - this year for the first time there were a number of runners who were just outright rude. They pushed and argued or simply bitched at me or about me.

I was even mocked for being detailed-oriented, but by tending to those details the race and the weekend come off quite well.

Previous years there has always been one - a runner or spouse or friend of a runner - who makes some sort of stink or demands. This year the snotty ones were in a disproportionate number to the larger field of runners. Maybe they just weren’t in good moods. Maybe they resented the success of the event. I really don’t know what their reasons were, but rude behavior is rude behavior and excuses don’t really excuse it.

So I guess I haven’t been in the mood to write. I don’t like to complain about others. I treat the Ghost Town as something more than a race. It’s a whole weekend of people gathering who share a common interest, but they become friends and find old friends in the crowd. Many consider it a running reunion. This year some just didn’t get it and they wore me down with their demands, complaints, and general bad attitudes.

Most reading this might shrug and say, “It comes with the job of RD.” True to a degree, but there is one difference - the Ghost Town is pretty much housed on my property. Not only are the participants runners, they are guests at my table and in my home. Maybe it’s me, but I would never go to someone’s home to insult my host. Just wouldn’t do it. But then I’m old school about manners.

There are many things on my mind that I’d like to write about, but the time isn’t right yet. After the bruising I took this year prepping and pulling together the Ghost Town I just need some quiet. I hope to be inspired to be back to the blog on a regular basis before long.

So, whoever asked, “Where are your posts?”…this is my first step back. It’s not witty or brilliant or anything special. The thing is, I’ve at least written something which is sometimes how it goes with a writer or an artist. It’s better to pick up the brush and play with paint even if no clear idea develops than to sit and stare at the canvas and do nothing.

Thanks for the motivation, whoever you are. I’m sorry I was so mindlessly deleting the junk messages that I missed the heart of yours. I hope to be back with something better next week. Until then…

Laugh Freely, Walk Far,

susan

Misery Loves Company - (c) susan reynolds, a just susan card

Hi there,

It’s rare for me to share much that touches on politics - why be depressing, eh? But the group had a number of posts a while back about state park closures in CA and how they might impact specific races.

Well…this week is the small local newspaper there was a photo of Gov. Richardson (D-NM) and Gov. Arnie S. (R-CA) breaking champaign bottles over some plane in CA that may eventually arrive in NM in 2011 for the spaceport.

In the same newspaper was the news that Gov. Richardson has decided to start closing state parks 3 days/month to save money in the budget. No one can figure out exactly how this is going to save money for the state since park employees are salaried and he’s saying these people aren’t going to be furloughed.

Anyway, it doesn’t impact my race - GT runners run in the Gila Nat’l Forest and so far so good in terms of the forest staying open. As a matter of fact, the USFS is encouraging “quiet use” of the forests - non-hunting and non-ATV and motorized dirt bikes. My local guys like the GT and have actually said they want to do whatever they can to support me. I appreciate that.

Turning back to the state parks issue…in my county at least…there are a couple of state parks - both involving large lakes. When a park closes the businesses are hit mighty hard. The marinas are the obvious ones, but there are motels, private campgrounds, restaurants, gas stations, boat repair places, bait shops, convenience stores, fishing guides, jet ski rentals and repairs, boat sales, liquor stores, grocery stores, bars, and any business selling something that people might want. Even little hiking guides are impacted because the main form of tourism here is associated with the lakes…if no one comes to the lakes, they won’t be coming to the mountains…not my particular ones. Oh well…

In the meantime our governor flies around in the private plane he felt the need to purchase on behalf of the people of NM. No other gov. in NM ever had a private plane - well it’s not his personally, he charged it to the state so technically it belongs to the people of NM…but I won’t get to fly in it when I go visit a daughter in NC for Christmas. I still have to buy a commercial ticket even though I pay my taxes.

There used to be about 250 governor-appointed employess in the state. Gov. Richardson created that many again and more - so that his friends and best supporters all have high-paying state jobs in a poor state. We’re talking over 550 gov. appointments now…he says he won’t furlough or cancel any of those positions. Hmmm…

And so it goes.

I worry about the state park closures. I worry about Gov. Richardson’s friendship with Gov. Arnie. I wonder if it started when Richardson decided NM needed representing in the RoseBowl and paid someone $100,000.00 to design (not build or decorate - that was done by volunteers who paid their own ways out there) a float so he and the Mrs. could ride in the parade when he was campaining for president?

There is really nothing I can do but sit and watch and worry a bit.

Today Matt and I are starting to paint the kitchen. We’ve had it remodeled - through Home Depot - it was cheaper and more efficient than using a local contractor. We’re doing the painting ourselves and will do the tiling for the backsplash and floor ourselves. I’ve read it’s one of the ways to save money in a family budget. Do as much for yourselves as you can.

This would all be terribly depressing until I think of the Ghost Town. This was a year when I thought registrations would be down. It’s an event people travel to from all over the US and even from Canada. I thought it would be more regional this year and the numbers would be down. Instead, we sold out within hours on registration day.

A month later the USFS actually encouraged me to expand the field so I let the entire wait list of 25 into the Jan. event. There’s been a wait list ever since.

It reminded me of a card I drew some years ago when thinking about ultras. I hope it makes you smile. It is entitled “Misery Loves Company.”

In closing…while I don’t think any studies have been done…if you like history and you look back…extreme sports and physical challenges seem to flourish during economic hard times (thinking things like pole sitting and marathon-dancing of the last century)…it’s probably no wonder that ultra-running is experiencing such growth as it is. Being on our own two feet and taking up a challenge could well-be a way to say, “I can survive.”

Myself, I am feeling the growing need for another good walk…just not sure when or where yet. I’ll keep you posted.

Laugh freely, Walk far,
susan

It’s that time of year when most people are beginning to focus on Christmas. They’re shopping for presents and decorating trees.

My thoughts and activities are dominated by the Ghost Town 38.5. We’re just under a month away. So even as I do prepare for the holiday, I also find my studio growing stacks of boxes containing items for runners packets and race “stuff.”

It’s a great time of year for me. My excitement builds as the stacks of cartons grow. 2010 is the 5th running of the Ghost Town and it will be the largest group ever. There are 101 registered as of today and 7 on the wait list. I no sooner get someone moved from WL to registered status and a new person emails or calls asking to join us in January.

It feels good, and while I’m enjoying the growth of the event and the enthusiasm of those who come to run, I also accept that such growth means more work for me.

It’s not just that I have to order more of whatever it is I’m stockpiling for the crowd, but more attention to detail is required. You see, it’s been an underlying way of doing things for me to give personal attention to each runner…sometimes even to their family members and friends who travel with them. More people means I need to stretch myself just a bit more.

While I put runner safety first and all the logistics promised second, next on the list comes hospitality. Ghost Town is not just about running for some hours on a marked course, it’s a whole weekend of celebrating.

So I’m already experiencing some of my 2 and 3a.m. wake-up-and-remember-to-do-this-or-to-tell-them-that nights. I’m a little groggy some days.

Probably a poor excuse for not having blogged last week or on Wed. of this week, but yesterday the electricians arrived to start on the kitchen. Just to add to all the normal pre-race craziness, my old and inadequate kitchen is getting a re-model job. The cupboards arrived yesterday afternoon - but only the top ones are in place as of this morning. The electricians didn’t leave for home in El Paso until well after 8p.m. Matt and I brought them in some dinner from a cafe so they’d have something to eat on the 2-3 hr. drive home.

Years ago I drew a Christmas card entitled “Christmas is Chaos.” I have to say it’s certainly true at my place this year. Christmas carols run through my head as I count items destined for packets or start the first of many lists of things to do or groceries to buy.

If there’s any down-side to the growth of the Ghost Town it’s that the more runners I have, the more special requests I receive. I feel a bit like Scrooge for not being able to accommodate everyone, but at the same time I have to maintain the rules and regulations or the integrity of the event is lost. No refunds applies to everyone, as does no proxies at packet pickup.

It is almost inevitable that someone will be disappointed, maybe even mad, at me for sticking to the plan. It’s sad but true, but such it is. The rules are the rules. I try to let those special requesters down gently. It’s the best I can do.

Well, the contractor’s guys just called…they’re running late. Hopefully I’ll have cupboards by the end of the day, if not…then tomorrow.

In the meantime, I’m beginning to plan the Friday night supper for race weekend. Early arrivals are allowed to pick up their packets on Friday and are invited to a dinner at my place (courtesy of the house). It’s a fun way for a smaller group of us to get to share a meal and visit before the crowds descend on us on Sat.

My holiday season isn’t really over until that last runner leaves sometime on Monday. Then I sit for a few minutes and bask in the memories before heading out to pull up signs from along the route or take down the temporary changing table. The end of a race weekend is very much like the end of a Christmas party…there’s a lot of cleanup to do afterwards.

This year for Christmas Matt and I will be in North Carolina with our oldest - Hannah. We’ll head to the Outer Banks for the week preceding the 25th. I’m not even taking a laptop so that work won’t intrude. It’ll be a wonderful Christmas…one where I can focus on my family and the holiday at hand.

We’ll be home late on the 28th - three weeks from that Monday of GT weekend. I’ve got a lot to look forward to!

Laugh freely, walk far,

susan     www.gilahikingcenter.com   www.journeyheretothere.com  www.walkerfriendly.com

Hey all,

I’m away from home for the holiday. Hope each of you enjoys a peaceful and safe Thanksgiving!

Laugh Freely, Walk Far,

susan

I’m of a certain age. You know…that age where you wake up and suddenly discover that your shape is not quite what it used to be. For me it’s the area of my waist. I’ve always had a proportionately small waist. Age has stolen it from me. Other things are holding up fairly well, but the waist is not what it used to be.

Today I’m cleaning out my closet. I’m discovering items I haven’t seen in years, let alone worn in years. It makes me feel wasteful to have clothes just hanging around. In a way I can almost celebrate the waist that is not as it has given me a good reason to work at getting rid of much more than just the extra around my waist.

As I go through my clothes of years gone by I realize that I often wear the same thing over and over because first it’s comfortable, but secondly because it’s the easiest thing to find in my closet. I don’t mind that. As a matter of fact, I bought a large storage bin to place my summer, spring, and not-quite-fitting-but-still-precious-to-me clothing in for the winter.

It was hard to pack a favorite skirt away. I’ve worn it now for several years and it’s just not fitting so well. Maybe that will be my motivation…I want my skirt back!

The whole process has gotten me thinking about the abundance of “stuff” in our lives. I still balk at the idea of all the technology actually simplifying our lives. After all, my laptop is full of files and photos that I just can’t seem to bring myself to delete, but they are old and are not looked at or referenced for months and months. I don’t own a cell phone. To me they’ve just made the world noisy and isolate people from one another. The fact that texting is beginning to replace first dates and actual conversations is actually a bit terrifying to me.

After all, I write words for a living. I don’t want to be reduced to writing bits of words…dropping vowels to make a sentence short enough it can be communicated by hitting “Send.”

When I look into the newly cleared closet, it’s amazing how much space there is now that outgrown, worn-out, or simply not-worn-much items have been removed. Sleeves and hemlines no longer dangle awkwardly from shelves that once were over-crowded.

Some might say that I’m spring-cleaning a bit early, but I prefer to think I’m getting ready for the new year. In spite of the dismal economic news, I’m optimistic. Oh, I don’t expect fortune and fame to land on me, but I’ve cleaned my closet and now there’s room to see what I do have.

The shelf that needed the most work was the one with my walking clothes. I was a little appalled at the number of wicking shirts I’ve accumulated. There were more than I could wear in three weeks! I sat and looked at my collection of walking shoes…three pairs for the road (all worn down a bit but still wearable), two pairs of trail shoes, two pairs of hiking boots. It seems even my walking had become cluttered. No wonder it’s harder to get out the door some days…too many decisions on what to wear and how to look.

My mind wandered a bit as I stared at them and I have to say I miss a bit the days I just went for miles in jeans or fleece pants and whatever shirt was comfortable at the moment. I trained for my first marathon for several months in hiking sandals because there was no place to get running shoes close by. I miss the simplicity. I want to return to it. I wonder if that’s possible? I wonder if there’s innocence lost as partner to the simplicity?

I began to sort with some ruthlessness as the questions dominated my thoughts. And then I was finished.

So maybe my waist isn’t what it used to be. The lack of what was has given me a gift today. I feel lighter for having cleaned out the excess.

Without the clutter it should be easier to focus on other things like walking and writing and enjoying what I have. Sure, there’s less in my closet, but there’s now room for so much more in my days!

Next week is our American Thanksgiving. If you’ve not done any major weeding out of old stuff in your life, I highly recommend it. When we see what we have - it’s easy to be grateful.

Laugh freely, walk far,

susan         www.gilahikingcenter.com   www.walkerfriendly.com  www.journeyheretothere.com

Last week I managed two hikes in the Gila with the dogs. We all enjoyed the warm weather - in the low 80s. The second hike was 4.3 miles long - the farthest Buddy has gone. He was clearly tired at the end. Watching him drag along behind Moe reminded me how important training is for all of us.

It’s fun going with the dogs. They’re very good about not getting too far ahead of me, and coming when I call. I am worried about them startling hunters who might shoot before really looking. Whenever I feel the dogs need to let me catch up I simply say, “Stay.”

The first hike Buddy was the more obedient, but this second time around Moe was the best. He’d trot right back to me or patiently wait for me to catch up. Moe even seemed to check back with me on his own from time to time.

Buddy, on the other hand, would hang his hound-dog head and look at me with mopey eyes. Then he’d slowly walk to the closest patch of shade and wait there. He would wait, but he was going to do so in comfort. He took a nice long muddy soak in the N. Percha when we reached that point.

When the dogs and I finished our hike on Friday the forest was just beginning to come alive with the arrival of hunters. It was a bit crazed. They seemed to be in a frenzy. At one point I was forced to back the truck down a hill into a sharp curve so some bozo with a truck and horse trailer rig could fly down the hill past me.

I’m not fond of the hunters. They leave a trail of trash behind them and seem intent on making a lot of noise and at the least being insensitive to others in the forest.

This week Matt is in Reno for work. We agreed that it would be best for me to stay home and not go into the forest without him around. Just too many men with beer and guns.

So I’ve resorted to walking on the treadmill. It’s not nearly so lovely as being outside in the woods and it doesn’t give me the challenge of the hills, but it is another kind of workout. Thing is…it makes me vulnerable to interruption.

There are days when my phone doesn’t ring except for Matt checking in. Yesterday, however, I decided to do 4 miles on the treadmill…and was interrupted by the phone 3 times. I don’t know if you use a treadmill, but mine for some reason is extremely loud. I can’t hear to carry on a conversation on the phone while walking on the noisy machine. So, three times I stopped the machine and said what needed saying, then started again. It was not peaceful. It was not relaxing. I did get 3.5 miles done and then gave up with the third call.

Today the weather has turned. It is overcast and cold. I would rather be in the forest as I imagine there might be a mid-week calm…most hunters coming for the weekend only. But Matt and I agreed that I’d not go in with him so far away, and I’m keeping my word. Besides, the contractor is coming this afternoon to bid on the installation of new kitchen cupboards and I have to be here.

If I was to go to the Gila, I’d want to make the most of it and be there for several miles and more than an hour.

A quote floats through my head as I stare out the window in the direction of the mountains:

“I think that I cannot preserve my health and spirits, unless I spend four hours a day at least - and it is commonly more than that - sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields, absolutely free from all worldly engagements. “  Henry David Thoreau

For now I have the treadmill…next week I’ll return to the forest!

Laugh freely, walk far,

susan    www.gilahikingcenter.com  www.walkerfriendly.com  www.journeyheretothere.com

I’ve been working for several days to launch the marketing on the Gila Hiking Center. I’m happy to report that today the website published: http://www.gilahikingcenter.com  The brochure has been edited and one printed for final review before a bulk printing. The business card is designed and ready for printing.

Later today I will place a small classified advertisement in New Mexico magazine, and I’ll join the Elephant Butte Chamber of Commerce because they are the group for the community at New Mexico’s largest lake and thus the group that is most likely to land me visiting hikers. My head is swirling, but in a great way.

In the meantime…on the Ghost Town front…I’m applying for a temporary food handlers license. There are now so many governmental restrictions and controls in place that even dinner parties would be monitored and licensed if the government’s agencies could find out every time we have guests. To that end, I’ll go through the horrifically complex application process and be legit.

It does mean that some things will change. I’ve been making calls about renting large party tents for the pre-race pasta meal, registration, and the post-race bbq. Having all social events on the property will be helpful on race weekend, but it’s also definitely considerably more expensive. Thing is…those agency restrictions mean: 

* I can’t pay a local cafe to cook pans of lasagne and spaghetti that I then pick up, warm in any other kitchen and then serve.

* The cafe could get in trouble because they don’t have a catering license and I could get in trouble because the food is being served in a location different from where it was prepared.

* I can’t just cook the food at my house without the license or I could be in trouble forever and never permitted to cook for anyone other than my family again. Good grief.

My mind is crazed with the various rules and penalties. So, to feed my runners and to add to my work, I will get that license and prepare all the food myself and serve it on my property and clean it all up.

Rules, rules, rules…you’d think they’d make life simpler, but they don’t.

It’s alright though, because eventually I want to get a permanent food handlers license so I can prepare fresh healthy picnic lunches for my hikers. I hope to grow much of the produce on the property. It is a later stage in the guiding business…hopefully before 2010 is over it will be a reality.

For today I will simply know that my work is progressing, that the dream is coming fully alive.

So, if you happen to be reading this, and you want to help…do a google search for www.gilahikingcenter.com or for gila hiking center or simply paste the URL into your browser and go click on some pages. The more searches, the more visits - the more google will recognize the site and then I will have a little ease because I won’t have to do quite as much in online promoting.

Thank you for helping out! I hope you enjoy the site while you’re there.

Laugh freely, walk far,

susan         www.walkerfriendly.com    www.gilahikingcenter.com   www.journeyheretothere.com

The air was still cool, but the colors were so warm. The trees’ leaves reflecting so many shades of yellow.

My beastie boys Moe and Buddy were encouraged into the backseat of the truck and away we went. 6 miles up to FS 157, a right turn, and then bouncing along the dirt road.

I was surprised to see so many people camping. Large RVs and pickups crowded the road-side edge of the unofficial campgrounds as though the occupants were too afraid to be any nearer the woods. I passed three separate camps, all the same show of lack of ease in their surroundings. The dogs listened to me muse about those “homes on wheels” and the fact that the guys inside them were out here with guns in hunting season.

Moe is the approximate size and color of a javelina. Today he sported a bright red bandana around his neck.

A couple of weekends ago Matt, Adrian - a runner from Albuquerque, and I checked some of the Ghost Town route for erosion, downed trees, accessibility. On our way back out I spied a little pad just above the road near the start of the Forest Trail and figured it would make a great place to park off-road next time I was there.

Matt is good about making me commit to where I’m headed when I go without any other humans. This was the first time for Buddy, after all he’s just 8 months old. So on we drove to that little landing where we left the truck and launched off on foot.

Someone had moved the dead tree trunk that had so carefully been placed to close the dry creekbed to motorized vehicles. Wide deep tread from a 4-wheeler led from road to creek and on up for nearly the whole trail. I’d not gone 20 ft. when I spotted the first beer can. I think my dislike of hunters has so much less to do with animals and guns than the trash they seem to frequently leave behind. Half a mile later I stooped to pick up the tab from the top of another can.

Other than the garbage along the way and the deep treads in the soft areas, there was no other sign of man. The dogs, smelling so many wild smells, ran ahead, were called back, rec’d their rubs and pats, and raced off again. They probably put in 3 times my distance.

In the low shallow places of the canyon the frosted ground crunched crisply beneath my trail shoes. It was somewhat surprising to feel the frozen treads give way with my steps, vague memories of popping the bubbles in bubblewrap floated lightly through my thoughts. There were even some very small patches of snow in those areas that are so hidden in the trees the sun never touches them. My cheeks brightened with the healthy pink that is the result of being in such air.

I walked, I called the dogs, I cooed at them when they came. Then we exited the deep woods and climbed those last few hundred feet to the top of the mtn. where we emerged into brilliant sunlight outside the now-defunct old mine. I sat on a stone and drank some water. Moe found a shady patch and carefully stretched out on the rocky ground. Buddy milled about, a little peeved at my not letting him explore the mine that could be home to a snoozing bear or mtn. lion.

While I sat I chuckled over those fearless hunters in their RVs parked so close to the road as to almost touch it. They were crowded away from the wilderness, away from the woods. None dared to park even 50 ft. from the road though there be plenty of space to do so.

In my application to the USDA Forest Service - an application that is dozens of pages long and headache-inducing - I had to describe what trails I hoped to guide on. Somewhere in the process I wrote, “In the Gila, front country is often wild enough.”

By the time we headed back downhill the beasties were a little less enthused about running here and there ahead of me. They hung a little closer. Buddy smelled the old truck before it was in sight. I grabbed both leashes and the three of us exited the wilds to the road and then the landing. They stood and looked inside the open truck door, neither inclined to enter on his own will. I coaxed, I tossed in doggie biscuits, I fussed a little but not really with conviction. I first lifted Buddy’s front paws into the truck, then his gut, then his back feet and finally the same process for Moe. Between them we’re talking about 140 lbs. of dog.

The RVs stood where they had when we’d first arrived. There was still no sign of movement from those who inhabited them. We’d come and gone unnoticed, hiked for some miles, and had the woods to ourselves. We trod on bedrock and river rock, pinecones and fallen oak leaves. We saw javelina and fox scat, possibly bear. The boys were smiling the whole way home. I was happy they showed no hesitation to follow me into the front cabin.

Now, several hours have passed, and my dogs sleep nestled in leaves along the fence. They are so relaxed that they barely lift their heads when I cross the property from one bldg. to another. And yet, if I listen, I can hear the thump thump of their tails on the leaves. I know they are happy.

It was an excellent autumn morning. I think we’ll tackle the Vista Trail before the week is out.

Laugh freely, walk far,
susan

www.journeyheretothere.com

www.walkerfriendly.com