Tuesday, September 4, 2012
It was time to get
back to working out after two days of driving and eating, basically. I headed for the park and a Survival Workout,
though I had some concerns about the returning pain, albeit slight, in my right
elbow. The cortisone had done its job
and relieved the immediate symptoms and I had lain off the exercises that I
believed had triggered the issue, but clearly something’s wrong there and I’ll
likely be returning to see Nilesh about it soon. For now, I’ll continue to do the workout
without the exercises they give me the greatest trouble.
I attacked the
workout with renewed vigor, completing 21 different sets before I
finished. The last three had me
trembling with fatigue and drenched in sweat.
I’d been thinking about a run or some time in the bleachers, but neither
seemed like a good option as I dropped into the Honda, exhausted. I drove home and made a large smoothie
instead.
I spoke to John again
and he’s making some progress. I
suggested that I line up Jennifer Aniston as a climbing buddy back-up in case
he couldn’t make it. He thought I should
line her up regardless.
“She’s going to dig
the abrasions on my back and the color of my butt,” he said.
“If she agrees to
come, she won’t be seeing anything of you because I’ll leave without you,” I
said.
I’m actually pretty
sure she wouldn’t be digging either one of us.
Maybe Lance could come, though.
Survival Workout: 60 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 100-150.
Calories burned: 600.
Monday, September 3, 2012
I was up by six again
and out taking pictures of the sunrise on the St. Lawrence and Canada just
across the river. By eight,
everyone was up and having a cup of coffee before driving into town for a
breakfast at a local diner which offered home-style cooking and servings the
size that even Jack only needed one order. We went to the point at Cape Vincent where there stood a
light house built in 1853 that was still functioning, keeping ships off the
rocky shores at the headwaters of the St. Lawrence where the waters of Lake
Ontario and all the Great Lakes moved towards the Atlantic Ocean.
We returned, grabbed
some snacks for Jack and were on the road a little after ten for the six-plus
hour drive home. Savannah and Kyle
would have to continue their journey from our home to Columbus to be back in
time for classes the next morning.
We arrived home to a spaghetti dinner and a lot of tasks related to
cleaning up and stowing camping gear.
I kept some out of the attic and stored in my office for the trip John
and I would be taking in three weeks, though.
It had been a tiring,
yet restful, trip. I don’t mind
the constant moving and poor sleep when I have the spectacle of the Adirondack
Mountains as a reward. One night
on Round Pond with a campfire, sounds from creatures of the forest, and a
star-filled sky overhead gives me such peace no amount of driving or sleep
deprevation can undo. Two nights
would have been better, but none ever is.
While on my trip, I
failed to leave a set of instructions for John on how to live in my absence. He went riding with some other friend
and was descending Hines Hill Road in the Cuyahoga Valley National Park when,
at speeds around 45 mph, lost control of his bike and crashed. Fortunately, he survived with only a
separated shoulder, battered ribs, and abrasions over most of his back and butt. His helmet was shattered, but was the
difference between his being able to tell me the story of the fall and a
vegetative state…or worse. He’s
sore as hell, but still hoping to make the trip to the Adirondacks in
mid-September with me. We’ll see
how the recovery progresses.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
I was up by six and
looking for something to do. It
was light enough for pictures, so I began hiking around Round Pond hoping for a
decent sunrise and maybe catch some animals stirring. I hadn’t gone a hundred yards through the woods when I
spotted another tent. It turned
out that there was a tent site a short hike from ours that was right on the
water and with spectacular views.
When John and I return in three weeks, I plan to make it our home.
I gathered more
firewood and returned to our site and coaxed the fire back to life. By the time I’d taken my tent down and
repacked my pack, it was eight o’clock so I went around and woke the weary
hikers. By 9:30, we were loaded up
and hiking back to the van. It
took another 30 minutes to repack the van and then we drove north to Massena
and a visit with my cousins, who owned places on the Grasse River.
We arrived at
Donnie’s around 1 p.m. and Jack was practically catatonic with hunger. I whipped up some french toast for
everyone, but half an hour after that, he was eating again. He finished lunch at three and would be
eating dinner at five. There was
no staying ahead of his hunger, really.
By seven we were again on the
road and heading for my Aunt and Uncle’s camp in Cape Vincent on the St.
Lawrence River near Alex Bay. They
live off State Route 12, which is a road with a 55 mph speed limit and no street
lights. I’d never been there
before and had no clue what to look for…not that I could see anything in the
dark of the night. It was darker than the inside of my shoe. I decided it
was time to call.
“Hi John! I’m out on the drive that leads to our
trailer. Look for the white
station wagon parked near the road,” my Aunt said.
I’d seen a white minivan when I’d passed what was near their address and where our GPS unit had
suggested we turn and when I questioned her about the differences between a
minivan and a station wagon, she seemed confused. We turned around and I could see a form moving in the dark,
but illuminated by a full moon. I
pulled in, stopped the van and she threw open the sliding door and climbed in
on Savannah’s lap. She was holding
a glass of wine and rather giddy.
“Aunt Eunice…THIS is
a minivan. That white ‘station
wagon’ over there is also a minivan.
They’ve been making them for about twenty years now. YOU used to have one. They are NOT station wagons,” I said.
“Oh John…you knew
what I meant,” she replied.
Actually, I
didn’t…but I should have. We
unpacked again with the girls and Kyle taking beds in the trailer while Jack
and I set a tarp on the ground and planned to sleep under the stars. Their place is right on the St.
Lawrence and they had a fire going in the yard. We sat on their deck and visited for the next hour before
folks started drifting off to bed.
I stayed up and talked to my Uncle for another hour before letting him
off the hook, too, and made my way to my sleeping bag and a night trying to
avoid Jack’s bumping and wiggling.
Hike workout: 25 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 90 bpm.
Calories burned: 125.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
I was up by 6 a.m.,
having had 3 restless hours of sleep, but knowing that I would be climbing
soon, which completely energized me. We
packed up quickly and drove to the Noonmark Diner in Keene for breakfast. The girls love it there and Jack and Kyle just
wanted food. In fact, Jack’s breakfast
had to come out on two plates, he’d ordered so much.
We drove to the
trailhead for the camping site and loaded our packs with the gear we’d need for
overnight. It was only a 20-minute hike
on a gentle, uphill grade to the site on Round Pond and we found it empty and
pitched our tents and gathered some firewood for after our climb. We headed back to the car and drove the mile
to the trailhead for Giant Mountain.
Giant is not the
tallest peak in the Adirondacks, but gets its name from its mammoth size. It dominates the horizon in this part of the
Adirondacks and from its clear peak; you can see almost all of the major peaks
to the west, as well as the Green Mountains of Vermont to the east. A fire in 1913 destroyed many of the trees on
the mountain and much of the trail to the peak remains barren to this
day...making it an excellent peak to climb if you’re looking for a view.
There are three
approaches to the peak and I had chosen the shortest, which automatically makes
it the steepest. The group would find
themselves climbing 3,000 vertical feet in 3 miles...numbers that were
meaningless to them as we began, but which would become apparent rather
quickly. There were many hikers headed
for the peak on this perfect climbing day, weather in the seventies and clear,
blue skies. We jumped off in front of a
group of 12 or so hikers who appeared to be college age. Six boys sprinted past us over the first couple
hundred yards of the trail, which was quite vertical.
“We’ll see them again
soon,” I said to Heidi as I watched them moving up, one in blue jeans.
Ten minutes later, we
passed them sitting on rocks just off the trail trying to catch their
collective breaths. The first half mile
of the climb gains altitude at an unrelenting pace. The tortoise pace is the sensible one. We reached an outcropping with magnificent
views after 20 minutes of hiking and stopped for 10 minutes to take pictures
and enjoy the view.
Once back on the
trail and behind the aggressive college boys again, we took our time and
climbed the open, steep sections with caution stopping often to take more
pictures. Savannah was extremely happy
with her new hiking shoes; they seemed to be gripping well. I was very pleased with my old, rehabbed
shoes, as well. I felt like Spider
Man...stuck to the side of the mountain...and climbed with complete confidence
that I wouldn’t slip. I never did.
After two hours of a
steady uphill climb, the group began to wonder out loud about ever making it to
the top. As the only person ever having
been there, I was expected to remember every twist in the trail and to know the
exact time of arrival at the peak. I didn’t
and was scorned, which really doesn’t bother me since I love every minute of
the climb. We finally summated almost 3
hours after we’d started and found about 20 people already there. It’s a broad, expansive peak with plenty of
nooks and boulder where one could drop down and enjoy the views and get some
serenity. Heidi and I tend to drop down
on some shelf close to an edge with a severe drop, which means we’ll have it to
ourselves since it’s not for the faint of heart. We ate our lunch in such a place while
Savannah, Kyle, and Jack took what they believed to be a more sensible perch.
We spent an hour on
the peak before beginning our descent. I
knew it would take over 2 hours after which we would have to go to Chapel Pond
for a dip and clean-up before we could proceed to the Noonmark Diner for
dinner. Since we were starting down at 3
p.m., we’d need to move quickly right through to dinner since afterwards we’d
need to return to our campsite without flashlights...something we’d wisely left
with our tents.
After Jack consumed
two dinners and half a dozen Clif bars, we reached the trailhead for the
campsite. It was near dark at 7:30 p.m.
and we moved with caution for the mile hike.
Once at our site, I began to gather more firewood and some bark from a
birch tree I’d use as a starter. I
showed Jack and Kyle my style of fire building...putting my firewood into piles
based on size, from the very smallest tinder I’d use to get it going, to the larger
pieces that would fuel it for the night.
They were quite impressed with the combustibility of the birch bark,
which burns like paper, but more slowly.
Kyle and I spent the
next couple of hours stoking the fire and getting to know each other a little
better while the other weary hikers slept.
I was tired, but knew that I’d likely only sleep about 7 hours and didn’t
want to be up before dawn. My 10 p.m. I
was in my tent, reading my journal from previous climbs. We’d spent about 7 hours on the trail that
day and after only three hours sleep, I was beat.
Hike workout: 7 hours.
Training Heart Rate: 80-150 bpm.
Calories burned: 4,000.
Friday, August 31, 2012
I told Jack that we
were making food for the car ride and suggested he join us. He had other ideas and decided he’d see if I
could get him to make sandwiches for him.
“Could you make me
six turkey sandwiches?” he asked.
“We’re driving to New
York...not California, Jack. I don’t
have that much bread, turkey or room in the cooler. Do you suppose you could eat dinner now so
you won’t be so hungry once we get going?” I asked.
He thought it was a
strange request, but he went ahead and had a dinner while I made him three
sandwiches and loaded 24 Clif bars into the cooler for him. I had loads of fruit and other kinds of food
bars, and when Savannah and Kyle arrived from Columbus, we loaded the van and
were on the road. It was six o’clock.
At 6:05, Jack
started. “Can I have a
sandwich, dad?”
I got a bit
excited. “Seriously, Jack? We haven’t even made it to the freeway and
you’re hungry? You just finished dinner
20 minutes ago.”
He looked sheepish,
but not malnourished and I didn’t feel too sorry for him. I always stop on the last exit in Ohio off of
I90 when traveling to the Adirondacks for my final fill of Ohio gas, which is
usually considerably cheaper than Pa. and New York. Everyone went inside to look over the snacks
and Jack returned with a one-foot sub sandwich.
When I questioned him about his purchase he said, “You wouldn’t let me
eat.” I would have...I was just trying
to manage something which was apparently unmanageable.
We played twenty
questions for a couple of hours, but as darkness set it, conversation became
more sporadic. I reached Exit 33 on the
New York thruway around midnight, got off and began a three hour journey on
back country scenic roads, though all I could see was what my headlights
illuminated.
We worked our way
north on I87 and exited about 10 miles outside of Keene Valley...our camping
and hiking destination. My plan had been
to drive into Keene and park in a public lot where we could roll out of the
car, throw our tarps on the ground and climb in our sleeping bags under a
star-studded sky. I seemed to be alone
in thinking how idyllic this would be, but I never made it to Keene. Instead, I elected to park in one of the many
pull-offs on State Route 73 just beyond the freeway and try to catch some
sleep. It was after 3 a.m. and no one
wanted to go further.
I found a spot
quickly and parked. Heidi elected to
sleep on the back seat in the van and Jack decided he needed something more to
eat. He grabbed a couple of Clif bars
and was opening them in his sleeping bag when Savannah took charge.
“Jack...are you
crazy? You NEVER bring food into your
tent or sleeping bag. Do you want a bear
eating you tonight?”
I felt sorry for him
since I’d not had the chance to give him the lay of the land. There was zero chance that we’d have a bear
encounter in our current location so close to the road and nowhere near a
campsite...their favorite haunt...but Savannah was right and I’m sure made a
healthy, lasting impression. In Jack’s
case though, I think the bear would have more to fear about being eaten than
actually getting to eat something.
I climbed into my bag
on a tarp next to Jack and he quickly reminded me of what a wiggle worm he was
while sleeping. I was exhausted though,
and his bumping hardly had an impact. I was out in no time.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
I knew that it would
be unlikely that I’d do a workout on Friday since we would be driving to the
Adirondacks immediately following the work day, so I thought I should do as
much as I could. I decided on a longer
ride to be followed by a hike and then a lot of packing.
I extended my
favorite ride through Waite Hill to two hours and then met Holly in the park
where we hiked for an hour. Once home
and cleaned up, I went to work immediately on getting all the camping gear
together. Normally, I preparing what I’ll
need for myself and maybe food for one other person, but on this trip I had
four others to think about. I hate
getting into a campsite and finding out what I forgot, so I go over my gear
multiple times to make sure it’s all there...knowing full well something will
get left behind.
It’s particularly
hard when only one of the four camper’s lives with me, though my girls, having
made multiple camping trips, get that they need to take ownership of their own
apparel. Jack was completely new to this
and I needed to make sure he’d have what he needed. I’d checked the forecast and the overnight
temperatures were supposed to be in the forties.
I’d been doing some
hiking in the shoes I’d bought last summer and worn on a couple of trips. Though I liked their grip, they were rubbing
just below my right ankle in a way that could prove to be a problem. I had been in love with my previous pair, but
when the toe kick had separated from the sole, I’d set them aside. Though I’ve never used the stuff, I knew
there was something called ‘Shoe Goo’ for repairing running shoes and decided a
trip to the local outfitter to inquire about the stuff couldn’t hurt. When I showed him the hiking shoes, he assured
me that Shoo Goo would alleviate the gap and provide me with a functional pair
of hiking shoes. I took the stuff home
and gave it a try. It needed to cure for
24 hours, so I wouldn’t know how well they worked until I put them on and hiked
to our camp site. I’d bring the new pair
as the backup, for sure.
By the end of the
evening, I felt confident I had enough gear to take care of everyone. Jack’s eating concerned me...he never
stops...but we’d be close enough to restaurants and grocery stores to deal with
him. I was excited about the trip and
healthy, too. It should go well.
Bike workout: 2 hours. Hike workout: 60 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 120 on the bike,
80 hiking.
Calories burned: 1,700 biking and 350
hiking.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
I’d decided to run on
a night that offered perfect weather for going fast. I decided on my favorite trail where I’d
recently run 26:43 and been very pleased.
On that night, I’d not been trying for a fast time, so the pressure was
on.
I didn’t really run
too aggressively, something I don’t like to do on trails full of tree roots and
other objects that could send me sprawling with a twisted ankle. I certainly didn’ want to jepordize my trip
to the Adirondacks with the kids, either.
I pushed...but with some control.
I hit my first check point about 6 seconds ahead of the time I’d doine
last week, but knew I’d make the biggest difference over the last mile. And I did.
I finished in 25:58, a full 45 seconds faster than my previous best and
a time that left me feeling fit and ready for the mountains.
I relocated to the
start of my Survival Workout and did three sets of exercises before getting
caught up in finding golf balls. I’d
noticed a few on the edge of the woods, someplace I don’t often look, and
suddenly they were popping up everywhere.
In no time at all, I’d accumulated 41 balls, which were stretching my
shirt where I was cradling them and gave me a second pr for the day. I’d
already decided against any more of the Survival routine and made this the rest
of my workout. It was a good cooldown
and I think I now have enough balls to begin a little side business selling
golf balls back to the guys who’ve been hitting...and losing them.
Run
Duration: 26 minutes.
Training
Heart Rate: 150 bpm.
Calories
burned during workout: 475.
