i'm a writer?

It's been a long few weeks of deadlines - my stories for Powder Magazine on the India and the Chile story for the Patagonia Catalog were due. Long hours at the computer, but I am enjoying writing these days. Back in High School, I really hated to write and loved math. Never would I have imagined that it would become part of my career. I was sure that I would be an engineer or something of that nature. But, what I really love about my life right now is that everyday is different. One moment calculating solar mass to glass ratios and the next minute making a movie - keeps those brain dendrites multiplying.

After finishing my first drafts, my boyfriend Jason and I were able to take off on a bike tour. He had to be in Steamboat to support his buddy's 24 hr solo bike race there. He wanted to ride there and tire himself out beforehand, so I jumped on board for part of the trip. He road from CB to Avalanche Creek, near Carbondale, where I met him to camp. Although a bit thundery, the site was spectacular, right next to the Wilderness boundary. I cooked up a great meal on my Disco - a huge wok-like campfire cooking gizmo that I brought back from Chile.

The next morning we biked out of New Castle, near Glenwood Springs, up county road 245 towards the needle in the haystack town of Buford. The road had just opened, but we only had 50 or so miles to go on the old dirt road, which sounded pretty cushy. We managed to get lost for the first hour, but as a bonus saw a mother and her hours-old fawn try to cross our path. The deer bolted, while the baby crouched down and froze for a good five minutes as its defense mechanism. As the young are scentless and spotted, their cammo is actually quite effective, as she did look much like a boulder. Later, five hours into the climb, we wondered if the top would ever appear - the ol' Flat Tops Wilderness/National Forest only appeared flatish from afar.

Finally the long downhill arrived and we coasted and skidded down the gravel for almost an hour into Buford. Nestled along the Flat Top Scenic Byway, the "town" is little more than a grocery store, 10 cabins, and a chuckwagon. We were mighty pleased with our rustic cabin. I lit the wood cookstove right away - our source of heat and food in the turn of the century log cabin. We cheated and ate dinner at the chuckwagon twice, between each of the thunderstorms, and then settled in to work on the bikes and discuss the finer arts of mountain man living.

Next morning, we rose early and parted ways - Jason going east on the byway, 100 miles to Steamboat, and me to the west. I then turned to the south on County Road 13 before hitting Meeker. The road was paved for the first 20 miles or so - with lots of farm traffic. I almost did not have one car pass without at least a finger wave - such friendly folks! Farms and population dissappeared as it turned to gravel, then dirt, then barely a road, on which I only saw two cars all day. I was expecting to be in the lower dryer areas that looked like the area around Rifle, but was pleasantly surprised by oasis after oasis of birds, aspens, pines, wildflowers and abundant springs between the two passes. After the last rise into Rifle, the terrain became a sage brush desert almost immediately, and along with that came fast trucks with gunracks, driving in the middle of the road, spitting gravel at me while hawling past at 50. My diet of Freetos and Clif Blocks was leaving me a bit hungry in the 6th hour, but there had not been a store for the whole 6 1/2 hours of riding. Arriving back at my car, I could only think of devouring the bag of Two Bite Brownies that I had left there as my reward.

This week I'll be working at my Non-Profit that I started, The Office for Resource Efficiency, or ORE. I'm working on new energy codes for the Town of Crested Butte - with special attention to new green building points, wood stove requirements, and requiring outdoor heating be powered with alternative energy.