I'm Rich!

Ten of us assembled at White Wolf off of Tioga Pass in Yosemite National Park to start our birthday journey with an ambitious feast. Ambitious enough that we offered up the mega extras to neighboring campers while we laughed through some fun introductions. For what would prove to be an epic journey, I had brought together some of my most favorite friends—triathletes, ultra runners, adventure racers, hikers and all around quality folks—several of whom go back 15-20 years in my lifetime.

While two would drive up to Tuolumne Meadows and hike the several miles to meet us at Glen Aulin High Camp, eight of us would take off the next morning from White Wolf for 25 miles of a pretty serious ass kicking.

"Ass kicked gang", morning of Day 1.

Our route took us up and over Ten Lakes Pass where due to lingering snow conditions route finding became tenuous at best.Closing in on Ten Lakes Pass.Including some significant climbing, a bear and several marmot sightings, about 2 hours of trying to stay found, and a few folks surely wondering why they had signed up, we ended up at Glen Aulin 11 hours later just in time for a dinner which we devoured.

approaching the pass

Looking down on Ten Lakes

Four of our group would sleep in the tent cabins in camp while the rest of us ‘dirt chicks’ slept out on small sleeping pads with light bags. Our minimal gear hauling and ability to eat dinner and breakfast at the camp allowed us to run/hike light and quick over some of the toughest terrain in CA.

For the gear freaks out there and those aspiring to fast packing – below was our gear list for two days (my choices are in parenthesis). Total pack weight at beginning approx. 12-15 lbs:
Clothes on our backs:
- Shorts (Patagonia)
- Shirt (Mountain Hardwear)
- Socks (Sole)
- Hat (Montrail)
– sunglasses (Smith)
- Trail running shoes (Montrail Streaks)
- Buff
- Watch w/ altimeter (HighGear)

Camp clothes:
- Thermal top and bottoms (Patagonia wool 2)
- Ultra light windbreaker (Montbell UL)
- Insulating Layer – (Montbell UL Down inner jacket – 6.9 oz, packs ridiculously small, one of my favorite pieces of insulation)
- fleece hat (Outdoor Research)
- fleece gloves (Outdoor Research)
- light camp shoes (cheezy flip flops I got at a pedicure place)

Pack – approx. 1500 cu in with room for a bladder and/or bottles and easy-to-grab-food pockets. (Gregory ISO – I use this pack for my desert races as well)

Sleeping bag with compression sack – 20-30 degree or lighter (Montbell UL. SS Down Hugger #3, 30 degree/1 lb. 7 oz. Packs ridiculously small. Outdoor Research compression sack helps that process)

Sleeping pad – Ultra light ¾ length Thermarest

Misc.
- Tooth brush (chopped in half)
- lip stuff
- Camera (optional)
- Earplugs (optional)
- Ibuprophen (optional)
- Electrolyte tabs (optional)
- space blanket
- whistle
- toilet paper
- cheesy drug store purchased plastic poncho

Food:
- 2 bottles and/or bladder
- Sports drink powder or other powders if desired
- Running/hiking food – approx. 1600 cal/day give or take

Team Gear:
- Toothpaste
- 2 water filters
- sunscreen
- bug spray
- a few good jokes

"run" crew for Day 2

On day two, four hiked back out to Tuolumne while the main group which had dwindled to six carried on through one of the most impressive canyons I’ve experienced to date—Tuolumne Canyon which follows the Tuolumne River toward Hetch Hetchy. We’d follow the torrents down through several eco-systems, water falls, and narrow gorges all the while being flanked by the ever famous Yosemite granite walls.

the canyon

We then earned our finish-line for the day with a 3500 foot gut wrenching climb out of the canyon and back to White Wolf. This second day would prove to be the toughest foot section a few of our group had ever encountered—character building stuff.Tuolumne CanyonI came away with a couple less toe nails, 79 mosquito bites, some smoke inhalation from the many Nor CA fires, a deep hunger that left me marginally comatose prior to dinner that night, and an increase of a couple of notches in fitness. All in all—satisfaction.

One of the several eco-systems we moved through

A few of us continued the birthday celebration the next day in the Valley with drinks, dinner at the Ahwahnee and enough laughter to land a few more wrinkles on my cheeks. What a lucky gal I am for having such a diverse and hearty array of friends willing to take on an intellectually, emotionally and physically paramount experience with such grace. I am rich indeed. I'll see what I can do next year to up the ante.
Terri

Romancing Yosemite… Revisited

Four sets of friends from all over CA are converging in Yosemite for some birthday fun next week. We’ll be running/fast packing for a couple days into the high country and yet more trails I have not explored, then heading down to the Valley for a lovely dinner at the Ahwanhee, some climbing and wine drinking. A perfect way to cap off another year.

I suspect I’ll be writing more when I return next week and prior to my leaving for Ecuador, but in the meantime I thought I’d share a post from a couple years ago about this relationship I must revisit a few times a year—with Yosemite. Enjoy.

terri

Romancing Yosemite
October 2006

After some much needed time off of concentrated training post Russia/France travel extravaganza, I followed a yearning to visit my first love - the romance of my youth. So I headed out for a strong dose of heady granite visuals and tough hike/running in the Yosemite high country.

Hanging out for a portion of each youthful summer in Yosemite taught me early on about the possibilities of a long term, healthy, fiery, relationship - with nature. Heading back a few times each year connects me with that romance I year for. And there’s nothing like getting up into the high country for an honest measure of ass kicking and a reality check on ones lack of fitness. Various relationships may come and go in life, but Yosemite holds a constant spell of beauty, reality and truth to all who experience, and this weekend in particular would prove to be auspicious at minimum.

After a brief night at the notorious Camp 4, a couple friends and I took off from Yosemite Valley on a Friday morning for a tough 18+ mile hike/run up into the Yosemite high country. Getting off the Valley floor is a breathtaking 3000 foot climb but with the season winding down, the crowds sparse, and the weather spectacular, it was well worth the effort.

The "high country" is a vast sea of pristine granite mixed with evergreens of various types, and mountain lakes - unlike anything I have seen or will ever see in all my travels on this earth. We hiked over Clouds Rest - a narrow edge of granite with views of the backside of Half Dome and everything else in a 20 mile radius.

Experiencing the granite in Yosemite first hand, is having a deep knowing why athletes and climbers, fall in love here. The rock has an affirmative feel. You perceive its sure grip when just treading on it, yet experience its sharp harshness if you fall. Yosemite granite is like the lover who is sure to support and nurture when needed but at the same time asks you to step up and shine even brighter when the going gets tough. “Risk knowing me and you’ll emerge strong and sure,” it says. “You game?”

Nestled in the granite walls and trees we ended our day at Sunset Lakes at about 10K feet. We made a fire, sipped some tea, and laughed a lot while watching the sinking sun cleanse the granite walls and mirror that softness on our lake.

Next morning we hit the John Muir trail for a tough but satisfying 17 mile trot through the high country with a gradual, then steep, descent back into the valley via the backside of Half Dome. My ultimate pleasure in the backcountry is to go light and fast and try and run as much as possible if the terrain allows. To experience my first love in this fashion is such an incredible "groove on". He never disappoints.

But the best of the weekend was yet to come. After hitting up some food and a couple of Yosemite Pale Ale's in the historic and romantic Ahwahnee Lodge we caught a presentation of the 1966, ascent of the Salate’ Wall on El Capitan, by Allen Steck, a pioneer of big wall climbing.

The American Alpine Club was hosting a celebration in the Valley this week commemorating the history of climbing in Yosemite. Steck’s program was one of many pieces to this celebration and we were privileged to have been in the Valley on this auspicious weekend.

Even in the 60’s and big wall climbing’s infancy, Allen et. al. had the foresight to bring a video camera along and film their climb, which was at pure minimum - EPIC. At 80 years today, Steck explained, “I remember standing at the base of the climb that morning and each of us taking turns reading the directions to the camera while organizing gear…”

With no sound on his KMART camera, Allen Steck, as humble as he is authentic, narrated their novel climb. After a couple days of pushing in the high country, body satisfied, I felt warm and content to sit among the trees and listen to his rambling 80 year old chatter about this historic experience.

Meeting and chatting with this sweet gentleman the next morning in our campsite, I tried to imagine the heart and courage it took to endeavor such an epic feat at such a mysterious time for big wall climbing in the world.

Like a virtuous first love, Yosemite continues to offer memories of ignited passion, while constantly teasing the prospects of what is to come. I suspect I’ll be back again to visit this satisfaction some time very soon.

Reflection on the Internal Switch

After the 2000 Eco Challenge in Borneo, Malaysia I landed in the hospital for a week with leptospirosis and a fever of 105. Despite my delirium and inability to venture past my hospital room for 4 days, when my teammate David called to find out if I’d be able to do a scheduled race in a couple weeks, I said casually, “Yeah I’ll be fine.”

In a sport like adventure racing we have to train our minds to step up when we are physically beaten down and 6 days sleep deprived. Sometimes the only way to accomplish this is to numb out the pain and switch on autopilot. My initial life as an individual hard core endurance athlete taught me to turn on this switch as needed and adventure racing just expanded the number of switches I had available at any given time. Lepto turned off a few of my bodily switches. My mind said – turn them back on and keep going. It all seems quite natural when it happens.

This is either a valuable warrior-like trait to be nurtured in ones endurance life or, its really stupid. In the case with Lepto taking over, the switching on attempt was futile as the infection left my body weak and depleted – no races for me for a couple months. Thank Buddha that even stupidity gets a solid reality check now and then.

As I get a bit wiser as I gain years I realize that the switch turning can be a chosen reflection of a situation rather than instinct (or stupidity), and that has proven to be the case these last couple of weeks. I didn’t just turn the switch of training back on after dealing with this heart issue, I’ve been easing it back up slowly – kinda like those wall switches that allow you moderate the brightness of the light in the room. I’m paying attention, checking in every day and noticing what types of behavior or foods cause reactions. Thus far with positive results.

this map (of South America) is for those of you who used to cut geography class

But recently when my training switch got close to the brightest option I figured it was time for some drastic action (stupidity or just continuing to suck the blood out of life?). I guess you can’t keep a switch turner down for too long. So I’m going to Ecuador for a bit of adventure.

After a couple days of birthday running in the Yosemite high country, I’ll head to Quito, Ecuador in July to climb a few volcanoes over 8 days. Elevations on these mountains range from about 14,000 feet up to 20,701 feet on the highest – Chimborazo. We’ll then travel from Quito deep into the Amazon jungle near the border of Ecuador and Peru and the Kapawi Eco-lodge and Reserve. The lodge is owned and operated by the Achuar people who live in one of the most remote and well protected parts of the Ecuadorian Amazon. We’re please to give them our business as we explore this fascinating part of our planet.

kapawi lodge

My main switch is apparently back on. Planning for a trip like this is hugely life giving to me as I thrive in planning the intricate details of such a venture. I’ll be back at you with more details of these exciting adventures as they get closer…
Terri

The Double Edged Sword of Endurance Training

I hate that my body has been tweaking this last month since I severely overtrained a couple weeks before my last race. I love the challenge of this puzzle as it grows larger and more blurred each day. I despise that the fear of cardiovascular systems threatening to shut down took me out of a race. I dig that fear slaps us in the face in the ultimate tests we face as athletes. Humbles us. Tests us constantly. I abhor that my body continues to throw me lessons of which I am ignorant. I am thankful that these lessons remind me that there is only continued growth in being an endurance athlete. Those lessons may not be the same as they were 10 years ago but they are lessons just the same and I must learn them or - game over.

Since my episode with overtraining pre-Auburn Triathlon and the resultant heart/physiology issues I’ve experienced, I have been in ‘pondering’ mode - as my brother so aptly says. They say men go into their cave when they mull over life’s challenges or are in a funk – I apparently have that male trait when I get tossed some tough stuff. So – thanks to all of you for your compassionate emails and calls. I was not ignoring you or disappreciative of your concern. I was deep in my cave pondering my next move. That act was not a reflection on your efforts to console (something women should remember when your spouse does the same).

Other than my sports medicine doc reinforcing what I found out about 15 years ago – that I have Athlete Heart Syndrome – thus far ‘they’ have found nothing wrong with me. Exams, Echo Cardiograms, ECG monitors, glucose and blood tests have confirmed that I have a ‘young’, ‘borderline-abnormally-strong’, heart and off the charts injection fraction, cholesterol and HDL levels. I like to think that the ladder helps rule out artery blockage, and that I have a yummy healthy diet including a lot of red wine :). We are still looking at a few more things but leaning toward my overtraining causing my Athlete Heart Syndrome to freak out for a period of time.

Athlete Heart Syndrome is an enlargement of the heart due to prolonged training, resulting in an abnormally strong heart with a low resting heart rate. A friend of mine commented recently that she could see my heart beating through my shirt – that’s Athlete Heart Syndrome strutting its stuff. In athletes this can be ‘normal’ but it can also cause electrical problems because the heart can become confused with such a low resting heart rate (30-40’s).

If the initiator of the heart beat doesn’t fire in a timely manner the other aspects of the heart get nervous, “Hey what’s up! SA node isn’t doing its job – somebody has to do something! Start the heart – lets get things moving here!!” As a result, beats can be skipped, missed, or the impulse will fire from another place in the heart leaving the appearance of malfunction on an EKG.

When I have this kind of an ‘episode’, I get a feeling like my heart will stop beating, or that it is doing flips in my chest. It can also show as a flutter or a couple of quick beats followed by an abnormal slowing. I usually take a deep breath to get things moving down there but it is most likely disconcerting. Normal disconcertation of this type is random and occasional and I’ve dealt with it for 15 years. When I overtrained a few weeks ago it was daily and frequent and caused my pulmonary capacity to diminish as a result. This type of electrical issue can cause immense fatigue as well since the heart isn’t pumping consistent and adequate O2 to the body. I have been waking up in the morning feeling heavy in my chest with extreme fatigue and lack any desire to roust myself from bed. Coming from a woman who normally can rise, dress and be out the door running in 15 minutes - that’s quite unnatural.

Bottom line (at this point): Recovery is ‘different’ at 46 than it is at 35 – so I have to change up my training to accommodate so I don’t throw my heart into a tizzy. I was training the way I used to 15 years ago and have learned in a severe way that that doesn’t work any more. I can train as hard as I used to but not as often and need more recovery between hard bouts. What 10 years ago would have been a 2 day recovery, took me a month to bounce back from and a malfunction of several body systems.

I loved to believe I had lived it all and figured out most of what needed to be figured as an endurance athlete. I despise and am so completely stoked to know that I was so wrong indeed. That we don’t ever ‘arrive’ in what we can learn from our bodies. There are always more lessons to gather in life this time around. I’ll keep you posted on mine as I work to increase my training – ever so carefully…
Terri

Not Quite Back...

I'm not one who tends to wear physical ailments on her sleeve. Mainly because I have a premise that random people in our lives aren't interested in hearing about other peoples daily physical issues and as a society we spend way too much time discussing them. Who wants to hear an athlete or elderly person regularly disclose their litany of prevailing physical maladies?

I have aches and pains just like every other person out there who pushes their body, but instead of talking about them I act on them. Attending to them is about doing what I can to mute their existence. So that is why my posts last week left out the fact that I’ve been struggling with a heart issue recently and have been spending some time in addition to training trying to get that sorted out.

This problem has not been fully tended to but I still got the ok to race this past weekend. So I did with a dismal lack of results. I was quite fit going into this race and should have solidly been able to do this supremely tough course. Instead I was left with extreme fatigue in the swim and dizziness and a ‘strange’ feeling in my chest causing an inability to recover from any kind of hard effort (even a short hill).

As fit athletes we should be able to push up a tough section or fast effort, back off that effort and feel our body and heart rate recover to be able to do it again and again and again. The fitter one is the more we can ride this line of effort/ recovery on the move and the easier it becomes. My training showed me I was fully ready for this sort of abuse until I overtrained a bit a couple of weeks ago and my heart started acting up (this is not new, I have had some history with this years past). For the past two week I have not been recovering, daily or in training.

As athletes do, I started the race thinking that perhaps the gun going off would somehow make it go away, but it didn’t. I pushed though a miserable swim (lovely swim, miserable for me) and it went from bad to worse on the bike until I decided that with dizziness and a feeling that there was an anvil on my moving body parts I had become a swerving liability to myself and the other riders on the road. I casually pulled over at an aid station and prudently took myself out of the race.

I’m hugely disappointed—mostly because I didn’t get to do what proved to be an incredible course. But my efforts now need to be to get this sorted out. There are always more races to run – but we only have one heart (oh wait I guess they can give you another one). I’ll keep mine for now and see what I can do about getting it to let me come out and play again. I’ll be back…again.

If you are a triathlete interested in proving what you’re really made of – The Auburn Tri is the true test. If you are looking for an exquisite ass kicking in the sport – the Half Ironman is for you. Not for the faint of heart (pun intended).

Huge kudos to Julia, Sherri and Jane for amazing efforts in incredible heat on a proven tough course. You rocked!!
Terri

Derailed Training in Perspective

I was going to post today about how after all these years of training - I still recently bonked in a swim workout and how I overtrained myself to exhaustion a couple of weeks ago. But in light of recent happenings it all just seemed so trivial.

Yesterday my brother in law survived 9 hours of heart surgery and I noted that 2 of my dear friends both have parents who are dying of cancer and another athlete/friend recently had a stroke.

So instead of belaboring my training mishaps I want to focus these works on a dedication of my race to these folks who aren't as fortunate as I to go out and push my body this weekend. I hope your thoughts will go out to them too - while I'm racing. I'll let you know how it goes...
Terri

Tri-ing Again – After All these Years

My last blog post was almost a year ago after my climb on Denali. I won’t tire you with irrelevant excuses as to why I took such a long hiatus from blogging, but I will say that I’m back – in more ways than one.

After 13 years of adventure racing/running/climbing around the world I’ve decided to do a triathlon again! If you asked me even 6 months ago if I were going to do another triathlon in this lifetime I would have dispassionately brushed off the question. I raced triathlon hard core for 15 years and felt as though I had wrung the sport out. I tend to continually seek new physical experiences and my life post triathlon has been an exercise in that trend. Now here I sit, 6 days before my next triathlon as giddy as a veteran soldier going into a firefight (what?). A few things fell into place to bring me to be sharing this info with you today.

(me, many years and lots of races ago...)

Today I FedEx’ed to The Mountaineers Books (publisher) the final edit on my next book that will be coming out in November – Triathlon Revolution: Training, Technique and Inspiration. I’ve been working on this project for the past eight months or so, inclusive of a gut wrenching writing ultra-marathon of approximately 3 months leading into my initial manuscript deadline (I think I’d rather crawl through the jungles of Borneo again than repeat the effort of the last aforementioned time period – ouch).

By dissecting in detail the sport of triathlon, I reconnected with a remarkably rich time in my life—10 years of traveling and racing as a professional triathlete. Since I have been privileged to engage in so many rewarding adventures since that time, my life as a triathlete was inadvertently sent to the archives of my conscious. In many ways I grew up as an adult doing triathlon. I revisited this time of youth and world-class endurance through my book and in doing so it ignited a small spark in my gut. One might call this feeling situational-happiness.

I also decided a few months ago it was time to dust off the road bike and overhaul its frozen drive train. After a couple times out on my “new” ride in the pristine mountains of Santa Cruz—my old Ironman training battle grounds—I was reminded of how much I love the zen of road riding. Each Saturday I found myself reaching for the road bike instead of mtnbike. After some hours climbing in the consummate beauty of our ‘country roads’ I noticed a bit of resiliency arriving back in my quads and that happiness-thing taking front stage.

At this same time I had made the decision to start swimming masters workouts again to offer my beat up running legs a reprieve and to mix things up a bit with some speed. This immediately stitched that competitive toggle in my brain and after a few weeks I was sort-of-kind-of close to reasonable swimming speed again (I have never and doubt I will ever equate pool swimming to ‘happiness’).

The deal clincher was a Sunday morning run and drive through Auburn, CA on my way back from a speaking engagement in Lake Tahoe. After a lovely run inclusive of a bear sighting on some trails close to my heart— the Western States 100—I drove around for a bit checking out sections of the bike course for the “World’s Toughest Half Ironman”. This race has always intrigued me since I tend to look for events that lie on the fringe in a sport and I had to see first hand if the “World’s Toughest” moniker held water. A half hour of roaming and I declared with a smile, “Damn this is a tough course!” With race seed planted and a belly full of a central-California-cult-status-In-and-Out-Burger, I wandered home and got on the race website.

Set in one of the most picturesque areas in California the self-professed ‘Endurance Capital of the World’ and put on by ex-pro triathlete Brad Kearns, this still relatively grass roots triathlon caught my eye. Since I tend to seek out challenging events The World’s Toughest signature drew me in to what has potential to be a truly exquisite ass kicking. As I read more I noticed that giddy/happiness-thing in my gut again.

I wondered if, like the veteran soldier, hard core endurance athletes are just plain compelled to engage again in memorable battles, especially if the fight is proven to be a mega-challenge. Or, perhaps too much time without an adventure caused me to grab at the nearest body-flogging fix that presented itself.

In any case, I’m back (for at least this one tri anyway). I’ll be on my blog later this week with some interesting info on the ups and downs of revisiting my tri training process for this race. Whew!
Terri

Reflections on the American Flag

I missed you all!
I have been remiss in posting on mountainzone.com as I’ve been wandering a bit. A couple weeks ago I returned from a bit of travel to Europe, Africa and South America, successfully climbing Kilimanjaro and Aconcagua as well as taking in the cultures, people, and sites of the areas in which I traveled, specifically – England, Tanzania and Argentina.
I wanted to share with you some post climb/travel thoughts - Reflections on the American Flag as a way to touch base again. I hope you enjoy. I’ll be back at you again soon…
Terri

Post Climb—Reflections on the American Flag

My climb on Aconcagua in Argentina involved doing two things I enjoy the most when I travel; engaging in very remote or rural areas, and, doing something in these areas that requires significant mental and physical fortitude—in other words—doing cool things in cool places.


Terri at Kilimanjaro.

I’m quite aware that I experience a constant, altered reflection of home due to my travels abroad. This reflection is heightened when I’ve moved through less fortunate countries than the U.S.—which would include most places I wander. If home represents physical comfort and ease of use, and we choose to go out and do things in depressed areas that are the antithesis of ease of use, then that contrast will roar loudly when we return to home base.

Climbing mountains requires not only substantive physical strength and stamina, it obliges one to live in some of the harshest environments on earth for sometimes extended periods of time. Just sitting, doing absolutely nothing, in an enclosed tent in rarified, bone dry air in raging winds and sub-freezing temperatures surrounded by incessant spindrift, can test the mental resolve of the most stalwart of humans. To actually climb in these elements is a consistent examination of the unknown, because we never fully realize what hand altitude, weather, or our bodies will deal us in any given hour.

Some may consider that we regress as humans when we climb on mountains.
I experience them as an evolution or freedom from the constant, constructed world that we have created. On a mountain we are stripped naked of the man made world which we are used to existing and we are required to establish another reality. This “other” experience and existence is our own, unique conception.

On a mountain there is no point in negotiating the constant of your bed back home, or heating system in your house. Nor do we generate much thought around how we present ourselves visually to the mountain world. Combing our hair or tidying our clothes has no reflection on whether we will survive the mountain, therefore these trivialities fall away. We are free from them.

What is relevant are the basics that even today far too many humans struggle to acquire daily—food, adequate shelter, adequate warmth. As nature helps in stripping away our “stuff” we have time to ponder what that stuff really means in the first place. On a mountain we covet our sometimes meager efforts to be warm when high winds repeatedly rip the zipper open on our tent door. We let go of the desire to be clean as we don the same smelly, dirty shirt we’ve been hiking in for two weeks. And we adapt to lack of calories as we spill our bowl of soup on the tent floor and are short of the energy to generate another.

Some may consider these experiences regression if their definition is based on an affluent man made world, but if juxtaposed to basic human needs aren’t these issues at the top of the pyramid of established healthy humanness? The act of existing on a mountain requires grave acknowledgement to those things in life that, as Americans, many of us have in abundance.

This deprivation gets our attention, asks us to reflect contrasting views of life as humans. And perhaps if we look a tad further, we realize we have an opportunity in this deprivation to truly appreciate what we may have in our life back home—that a warm home with a roof, running water and a plenty of food are not items to be taken nonchalantly.

I am stunned each trip abroad at how fortunate we are in America. Astounded. Amazed at our privilege to live comfortably and our freedom to choose to go after what we wish in life if we decide to acquire the knowledge and motivation to make our dreams happen.

Daily my thoughts go back to so many I have witnessed who do not, or can not, have these human basics because of their social status or the state of their community or country. As a woman in a world that tends to still generate effort to suppress women’s forward movement these facts never get past me and I feel fortunate that I choose to change up my lens color and reflect again and again. That evolving reflection keeps the brain sharp and desirous of dream seeking.

If the hardship of physical enduring continues to hone my reflection of home and my desire to seek the ultimate dreams in life – I’ll gladly take that adversity. If sitting through a storm on a mountain in South America makes my latte back home taste that much richer, or, the hug from my brother feel that much warmer, I’ll choose to engage in nature any day.

And if foreign travel creates the knowing that back home I have the freedom to go after the means it takes to put my dreams to life, I will forever glance on the essence of the American flag with a bright light and with even more respect. Hardship softens immensely when its retrospective reflection is so sweet.

Terri Heads to Kilamanjaro

Greetings from Moshi, Tanzania - or Moshi-town as the locals call it. After another long haul of travel we have arrived to a beautiful and serene part of Eastern Africa. After dealing with lost luggage issues and logistics stuff, we got a chance to test the local food and get a sense for the area. It looks as though we will be eating a lot of rice and, veggies and meat - which works well for me.

The people here are as lovely as the geography. Our head guides for our climb, speak English quite well which has allowed us to learn that they are as interesting as they are interested - excellent qualities to hang out with on a mountiain for a week.

Louise's bag has been lost with all her climbing gear so we've needed to spend some time outfitting her properly for the climb. Other than that everthing is a go for our departure this morning. I am quite excited! I have a feeling we have a very visually pleasing adventure ahead of us.

We will have support from a staff of about 12 people to get our 4 asses up the mountain. I'm not used to having people carry my stuff and cook for me so its quite a luxury. I feel fortunate to just be able to hike, take some pictures and enjoy the climb.

We'll be doing the Machame Route on Kili, which is one of the most beautiful. I do not have internet access on the mountain, so I'll be back at you after our ascent.

Happy Holidays to all - I know I'll be celebrating in fine style!
xoxo
Terri

Romancing Yosemite

After some much needed time off of concentrated training post Russia/France travel extravaganza, I followed a yearning to visit my first love - the romance of my youth. So I headed out for a strong dose of heady granite visuals and tough hiking/running in the Yosemite high country.


Yosemite high country...


Hanging out for a portion of each youthful summer in Yosemite taught me early on about the possibilities of a long term, healthy, fiery, relationship - with nature. Heading back a few times each year connects me with that romantic essence. And there’s nothing like getting up into the high country for an honest measure of ass kicking and a reality on ones lack of fitness. Various relationships may come and go in life, but Yosemite holds a constant spell of beauty, reality and truth to all who experience, and this weekend in particular would prove to be auspicious at minimum.

After a brief night at the notorious Camp 4, a couple friends and I took off from Yosemite Valley on a Friday morning for a tough 18+ mile hike/run up into the Yosemite high country. Getting off the Valley floor is a breathtaking 3000 foot climb but with the season winding down, the crowds sparse, and the weather spectacular, it was well worth the effort.

The "high country" is a vast sea of pristine granite mixed with evergreens of various types, and mountain lakes - unlike anything I have seen or will ever see in all my travels on this earth. We hiked over Clouds Rest - a narrow edge of granite with views of the backside of Half Dome and everything else in a 20 mile radius.

Experiencing the granite in Yosemite first hand, is having a deep knowing why athletes and climbers, fall in love here. The rock has an affirmative feel. You perceive its sure grip when just treading on it, yet experience its sharp, harshness if you fall. Yosemite granite is like the lover who is sure to support and nurture when needed but at the same time asks you to step up and shine even brighter when the going gets tough. “Risk knowing me and you’ll emerge strong and sure,” it says. “You game?”

Nestled in the granite walls and trees we ended our day at Sunset Lakes at about 10K feet. We made a fire, sipped some tea, and laughed a lot while watching the sinking sun cleanse the granite walls and mirror that essence on our lake.

Next morning we hit the John Muir trail for a tough but satisfying 17 mile trot through the high country with a gradual, then steep, descent back into the valley via the backside of Half Dome. My ultimate pleasure in the backcountry is to go light and fast and try and run as much as possible if the terrain allows. To experience my first love in this fashion is such an incredible "groove on". He never disappoints.

After hitting up some food and a couple of Yosemite Pale Ale's in the historic and romantic Ahwahnee Lodge we caught a presentation of the 1966, ascent of the Salate’ Wall on El Capitan, by Allen Steck, a pioneer of big wall climbing.

The American Alpine Club was hosting a celebration in the Valley this week commemorating the history of climbing in Yosemite. Steck’s program was one of many pieces to this celebration and we were privileged to have been in the Valley on this auspicious weekend.
Even in the 60’s and big wall climbing’s infancy, Allen et. al. had the foresight to bring a video camera along and film their climb, which was at pure minimum - EPIC. At 80 years today, Steck explained, “I remember standing at the base of the climb that morning and each of us taking turns reading the directions to the camera while organizing gear…”

With no sound on cameras at that time, Allen Steck, as humble as he is authentic, narrated their novel climb. After a couple days of pushing in the high country, body satisfied, I felt warm and content to sit among the trees and listen to his rambling, 80 year old chatter about this historic experience.

Meeting and chatting with this sweet gentleman the next morning in our campsite, I tried to imagine the heart and courage it took to endeavor such an epic feat at such a mysterious time for big wall climbing in the world.

Like a virtuous first love, Yosemite continues to offer memories of ignited passion, while constantly teasing the prospects of what is to come. I suspect I’ll be back again to visit this satisfaction some time very soon.