Cardiology and Pork Fried Rice

I just ate a 32oz. container of pork fried rice and I'm enjoying this side of my three day weekend. It's finally cooled down to 80 degrees. Tomorrow morning I'm going to broga and farmers market. In the afternoon I'm going to swim in a lake with a bunch of friends. I love the feeling of open swimming. I've been a swimmer all my life but it's never felt so good...therapeutic. I went last weekend and I'm hooked. The rest of the weekend I'd like to spend in the backyard, in the hammock, on my bike, or painting the attic space.

Nate is working in the field and having a great time. I spent all summer with him and got used to it. This last separation has felt like a lifetime and I've found myself feeling pretty lonely at times.

School has started and I am enjoying what comes with experience. I am more organized than I've ever been. The kids are great. The other day we made hula hoops and after finding circumference, diameter, and radius, we headed to the park for some hoop Olympics. It was too much fun. I reverted back to third grade for a few hours.

Lots is going on with the house. We are re-doing the bathroom, painting the outside of house, and getting up to code in a few more places. I can't believe that in a year we will be thinking about leaving Salt Lake City.

Today I went to the cardiologist to get to the bottom of whats going on with my ticker. I saw a wonderful doctor who explained to me at length the magic of the heart. I had an ultrasound which was a very touching experience. I've taken my heart for granted. I had the best intentions of giving myself a heart healthy dinner afterward, but there were too many errands to run and Sampan was there when my stomach demanded food.

I read a quote recently: "what are you doing instead of living your dreams?" That is so inspirational to me that I want to repeat it 10 times a day, everyday. I tried to answer that question but instead got stuck on the fact that I just might be living my dreams. The feelings that I may not be, only come up because perhaps society trains us to want more and more. The fact is that I love my job, my friends, my husband, the lifestyle I lead...what more do I want? I'd like to be able to travel without money worries, explore a new career, and maybe have some kids down the road. It's also interesting to explore what fear will do to a dream.

I was teary-eyed listening to the speeches at the Democratic National Convention. I actually felt some love and pride for my country. America might be getting it's shit together!

That's all for now.

Jess

Mid August

Today I am riding old pass road. It's one of the last things on my original list of things to do this summer. The thing is, the list has grown as I've learned about this area.

A good friend of mine, Jen, came up for a visit and we canoed the Teton River, rode the aspen trail and at (someone's) basin up at Targhee. It was really neat to have a buddy here besides Nate. Jen went home and told her fiance that she wants to move here.

Gus and I had a two week stay in SLC where I worked two science camps at the museum (ecosystems and science theater). It was really neat to see friends, care for the house, see my dad, and hit up some of my favorite stops.

A few days ago I went to Lander to meet Nate after he and his friend Josh had spent 4 days in the Winds climbing all over it. We ate at the Lander Bar on the patio and Nate had a sparkle in his eye...content, inspired, and tired.

We spent the next three days in Lander with our friend Nick who will be leaving shortly for a 9 month adventure in New Zealand!

In two days I report for duty at school. Where did the summer go?

Early August

It’s 12:15 am and Gus has just curled up beside me. I spent the day with my dad who is visiting from California.

I went this great place for coffee this morning and mingled with the counter culture…drinking my dark coffee while playing online scrabble…the wifi password was “skeletons”…a good morning exploring a different nook of the SLC. At 11:40 dad’s plane had landed and I took the ten-minute drive out to the airport.

I gave dad a great tour of the city starting with a farmer’s market experience. We sampled a lot but only left carrying 4 ears of corn. Dad said he got a good taste of community and got a kick out of the Jack Mormon coffee co. He took lots of pictures and continues to refer to himself as a “Japanese tourist”. We had lunch at Café Molise just down the road from the Outdoor Retailer madness. I love seeing all the fit people out and about. We had a nice table in the shade on the sidewalk and really enjoyed our meal of pasta, chicken, and salad. The conversation was flowing. Next, I showed him the downtown library, that is, once I found it. He enjoyed the design and architecture immensely. We sipped coffee on the roof while watching an afternoon storm roll in. It was really pleasant. Next we went to the U so he could see Nate’s office (or what had been since last week). Dad expressed that he wished Nate were with us. Me too. I took him to see Realms and all it’s funkiness and finally to our home.

In the afternoon we tackled the electrical problem that has been a mystery and a royal pain in the ass for the past week. Took at trip to Home Depot with dad (very cliché) and bought some supplies. We stopped tracing wires and testing outlets for electricity at 7:15 so we could catch our movie/dinner at Brewvies.

Once home, dad solved the electrical issue and we sat and talked-very heart to heart- about life. I am so enjoying this time with my dad. It is very special that he is here. Tomorrow breakfast, a hike, fix-a faucet, and dinner at Frescos.

Nate is climbing for the next three days in the Winds. I pick him up on Tuesday and we will spend some time in Lander with Nick for a few days.

Wind Rivers

Josh Beckner and I cruised into the Winds on Saturday evening for 3 days of climbing. It was one of the best little climbing missions I've done. So damn hot! We climbed the NE Buttress of Pingora (IV, 5.9) on Sunday, Black Elk on Warbonnet (IV, 5.11a) on Monday, and the North Face, Left of Mt. Mitchell (III, 5.8) on Tuesday. Then we hiked out. Mucho tired.

The climb of Black Elk was especially significant. It was Pete Absolon's favorite climb in the Wind Rivers, one that he had done dozens of times. For Pete it was a walk in the park. He was a master of gettin' vertical, and although the Elk was a testpiece for many he could run laps on it. His death was one of the saddest moments I can remember, and many, many folks miss him.


Pete's passing at NOLS left many with a hole in their life. For Josh and I, Pete filled the mentor role; not just a friend or someone to climb with up in Sinks Canyon, but an inspiration and role model. Josh and I were both climbing and mountaineering instructors at NOLS, and Pete represented the archetype that we wished we could be. In my eyes, he was one of the few that made the transition from "hard man" to "family man" without a problem. He incorporated the two different lifestyles into one seamless, beautiful poem.

The day we climbed Black Elk was the one-year anniversary of his death. We awoke to threatening weather; the clouds raced over our camp with great haste, and the previous night's storm was fresh on our mind. Getting out of the tent at 4:45 a.m., Josh and I stewed about in silence, going through the motions of getting ready for a climb, but only halfheartedly, as it seemed like an exercise in futility. We ate a little breakfast and had rounds of coffee. Our intended alpine start was clearly not going to happen, and put us at risk of climbing in the late afternoon, when the possibility of getting throttled by p.m. thunderstorms, high on the face of Warbonnet, seemed likely and incredibly not fun. We only had one rope, as well, so rappelling the face could cost hundreds of dollars of gear.

Gary Cukjati, one of Pete's good friends and the Director of NOLS Rocky Mountain, asked us to retrieve Pete's cache that he had stashed under a boulder near the base of Black Elk. We had vague directions, but once we saw the tremendous talus field that guards the approach to Warbonnet, it seemed there was a million boulders where the cache could be located.


After stewing about until 7:30 in the morning, Beckner and I asked "What would Pete do?". The answer was simple. There wouldn't be a question in his mind. He would flash a mischievous grin and say "Get after it, buddy!".

We decided that we would search for the cache and hope that there was a rope in it. We racked, hiked up the talus and started looking for the needle in the haystack. As it turned out, the needle was deep under the second boulder we looked under.

There indeed was a rope. And some personal items; a jacket, climbing gear, a balaclava, some gloves, and well-worn climbing gear We rummaged through it, savoring the sensation that we had found a bit of quicksilver, and imagined that this was part of the essence of Pete. This was Pete's stuff; looking though it felt like touching some part of him. It was melancholy; it was sad and inspiring; it left us speechless and wistful. We made eye contact and stared at each other in silence, each processing the mixture of emotions pouring into us.

We took the rope and finished the approach to the base. It was the only thing left to do, and Pete was clearly with us. As we tied in at the first belay, the sky conceded to high pressure and the clouds vanished. The climb went the same way that all great climbs do; it was challenging and spectacular. Cracks came and went, transitioning from size to size and from move to move. We thrutched and screamed up the off-width, Elvis-ed up the slabby sections with machine-gun leg, and flowed through the hands and fingers. The whole time, Josh and I relished the sensation of climbing as a threesome, Pete was with us the whole time.

Dog Hucking!

Sometimes Gus isn't so sure about us.