Airstream Nomad

Adventure-less

2010-06-28T14:09:00.000-07:00

It's hard to have an adventure blog when you aren't really doing anything particular adventurous. Just the normal - slaving for the mortgage, getting in some mountain biking, hiking, kayaking when I have a free morning or evening and before summer disappears. Working the 9 to 5 patiently counting the minutes until my next adventure.

So, in the meantime, I direct you to my friend Matt's blog at http://www.acrossthepondandsouthabit.blogspot.com/. He left Balboa Island in Newport Beach, California for Zambia in June. Check it out and stop by soon - I have a feeling the pursuit of something iconic will take over the urge to pay my mortgage.

TEDx Whistler

2010-02-18T16:42:00.000-08:00

I had a chance to watch - via the internet - an independently organized TED event in Whistler. Taking place at the same time as the 2010 Winter Games, its title was Tourism's Place in a Sustainable World. People from various art forms and expertise took the stage to speak on the subject. I tuned in when Ali Milner, a local singer and songwriter, gave a moving performance, followed by Valerie Langer, Director of British Colombia Forest Campaigns for Forest Ethics. William Robert't then spoke about peace and tourism while Wade Davis, Explorer in Residence for National Geographic, wrapped up the session with a discussion about how travel is the way to explore cultures.

Watching this reminded me why I joined TED in the first place - the value in spreading ideas to change the world. Me, my idea? I have a passion for tourism as a sustainable industry. I have tried through education, writing and imagery to bring about awareness to regions in need of a sustainable and responsible economy. In 2008, I received grant money (along with two others) to explore and promote winter sports and culture as a sustainable economic model for the Kamchatka Peninsula in Russia's Far East and I have written about Kamchatka and the subject of sustainable tourism for several publications. I have even been recognized for some of the journalistic images produced during my travels.

My purpose here is not to boast but rather to remind myself and re-commit myself in a public forum that this may be my purpose in life and is definitely my passion.

In short, I believe in a type of tourism that is not mere observation but rather is truly experiential. A kind of travel that goes beyond the immediate and the obvious; one that delves deeper into culture, history, people and their day-to-day mundaneness. (Perhaps this is why I object to crusies.) I strongly believe we have an obligation to our earth, to encourage it to be explored, understood in an effort to maintain it.

Getting to Know a New Town

2009-11-20T17:01:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since I have moved. I have been in the same town for seven years now. For some of us, probably not a big deal. But ask either of my parents and they will tell you for years they never wrote my address or phone number in pen - they preferred something they could easily erase when a year or less went by.

Not that I am moving, I am just testing the waters in a new town, a familiar place but new just the same. I have been going to Mammoth Lakes, California since I first moved to the west coast. That first trip inspired me but didn't make me want to move. It was the second trip that I fell in love with the Eastern Sierra. A camping trip with two girlfriends and a hike to Duck Lake. From then on I made the 5 hour drive every other weekend. Sometimes just for the day to ski. Crazy, but I was in my early 20's.

These days I prefer to at least spend a bit of time in the town before I head back to my own mountain town. Weird - going from one mountain town to another. But like products, they are two completely different brands of experience. Somewhat familiar but definitely different.

My goal: See if we like it for a potential full-time move. Or just somewhere to spend half our time. We know a few people but not enough. We know what to do but wouldn't call ourselves locals. What we do know, we like.

That said, we also have a list of towns and criteria we would like to have for the next town we call home. The list includes, of course Mammoth, but also Tahoe City and Crested Butte, and the criteria lists a pool for lap swimming, a yoga studio, live music, epic skiing, nearby crags for rock climbing and fair amount of mountain biking. While I am not sure where we'll end up, or even if we will move in the end, I am sure we'll have a great time exploring and getting to know a new town.

Slow Food Cooking

2009-11-16T19:53:00.000-08:00

Good, clean and fair. A simple movement, gaining popularity and now five members stronger. We kicked off the Big Bear Valley Chapter with a dinner of pasta, sun-dried tomatoes, organic spinach, fresh garlic, home-made herb-crusted bread, a few bottles of wine and some excellent conversation. It was so nice to sit around a table on a stormy evening, fire in the wood-burning stove, and talk about anything and everything.

There seems to be a growing cultural shift - some even call it a return - to traditional ways when it comes to cooking and eating. A desire for self-sufficiency and quality has fueled the growth of farmer's markets in the last five years and food cooperatives now sell locally grown and seasonal produce. The Slow Food movement is also becoming popular; it's mantra of 'good, clean and fair' is driving many of us to re-think our purchases. To act and make environmentally-conscious decisions when it comes to choosing fresh foods over processed and neighborhood farms over retail giants.

Having grown up with a garden in our back yard, I was tasked with picking our evening salad right before dinner. I miss that freedom and sufficiency. Living in a mountain town where our soil is not entirely conducive for growing our own vegetables I rely heavily on our local food cooperative - Sol Food Market. Every Tuesday I pick up produce grown within 100 miles of Big Bear. It's very communal.

So as regional lines blur in our march towards globalization, our food is becoming a defining factor. As I honor my desire to connect with my food and have a relationship with the growers, I am more reflective in other aspects of my life relating to sustainability. It's an interesting concept, one that isn't innovative or new, just innovative and new right now. As I step off my soap-box, take a moment and check out the Slow Food website at http://bit.ly/70ZBld. I invite you to consider joining in on the move to slowing it down.

Halloween Sun

2009-10-31T12:39:00.001-07:00

I have been traveling quite a bit these last 5 weeks. I started in Colorado in late September - photographing the amazing Aspen trees, continuing east to spend a few days in Lake Placid, New York. From there we slowly meandered south, visited family, saw Cirque du Soliel in Reading, Pennsylvania and drove the parkway along the crest of the Blue Ridge Mountains from Virginia to Tennessee. Today I woke up in Winter Park, Colorado - snow covered plains, views of the Contenental Divide and a sunny Halloween morning.

I celebrated with a visit to my new favorite yoga studio Mountain Moon Yoga (mtnmoonyoga.com). A fairly vigorous vinyasa sequence with plenty of salutations was a great way to stretch, sweat, twist and relax.

But while I love to travel - encountering new places, meeting people and experiencing the rythym of a mountain landscape seems to be my calling - I am ready to return home. Ready to settle in for what seems like a promising ski season and sketch out a plan to make time for winter activities, writing, yoga, friends and more travel. Here's to a long winter!

Life is Good!

2009-10-16T19:11:00.000-07:00

It's crazy how time flies. That I have gone this long without blogging seems unforgiveable. Except that - and this is good news - I've been busy. Seriously busy. Writing and photographing mostly, augmented with skills learned in the corporate world. A good thing really - my parents did pay (with help from my job as a grocery checker) for an expensive education and it proves useful once in awhile.

True to this blog's title I have been spending time traveling via the road. Driving across the country with prolonged stops in Telluride and Crested Butte, Colorado photographing the amazing autumn display of Aspen trees. Likewise, on the east coast taking a three-day tour of Lake Placid, New York's fiery colors. LOVE Lake Placid! Actually wanted to move there when I finished college but the Universe had other plans for me.

What am I up to? Several things: (1) Doing research for a documentary project I have been ruminating on for the last 2 years; (2) Trying to find time to write freelance and failing miserably at it; (3) Processing about 200 images I shot recently in Winter Park, Colorado (unrelated to the above); (4) Blogging about Big Bear Lake, California; (5) Enjoying myself working with a new client who is innovative and growing in a down economy; and (6) Working out A LOT (Goals: Ski my ass off this year and test for PSIA Level III certification).

Let me know what you have been up to?

Cheers,
Cathleen

The Schtick of Spinning & Yoga

2009-07-17T10:16:00.000-07:00

While I find myself back in LA for the next couple of months I am trying to make the most of it. Though I am not 'home' I am in a familiar place and spending time with friends. The discomfort of not being in my home every night is made easier by the comfort of doing the things I used to do when I lived in this city - things I did to occupy my time until I could escape to my next adventure in wilder terrain.

One of the activities I became quite fond of was spinning. When I couldn't join my friend Marci for a ride through Topanga Canyon or Malibu, I made sure to make it to the gym for a spin. Though I consider myself a rider first, I see the value in spinning. It's quite zen - that repetitive motion - and engages my creative side. Three weeks ago I joined TriFitLA for two months. It caters to triathletes, has a pool, spinning and yoga: The perfect combination.

What's even cooler - I have become addicted, once again, to the act of spinning. More appropriately, I have become addicted to Merle's class. He's a rider and brings that to his class. Lately we have been watching stage footage from The Tour; it rolls on the the big screen behind him at the front of the room. It's makes it easy to stay motivated during a seven minute hill climb when you are watching Lance and Levi power up a section too: Smooth pedal strokes, centered positioning and consistent cadence. What I also like is Merle brings a certain yogic technique to his class - we do sun salutations at the beginning and end, focusing on deep, effective breaths and relaxing the shoulders and toes. Drawing in our energy and lifting through the length of our spine. Staying light on the pedals - centered and balanced. His schtick is always the same and he ends his class with the phrase - "And make sure to nurture your joy." Our arms are raised, palms facing the heavens. I don't tire of his routine, though it's always the same, I find motivation in it every time he says it.

Which brings me to my own schtick when I teach yoga. After savasana I always end practice the same way - "Thank your body for moving the way it has; thank yourself for coming to practice today; and bring this sense of peace and wellness into your communities - your work, your home, whereever you may travel; Namaste." It is something I always say and always wonder if people tire of it. But I do believe we should be thankful for the way our body moves - that we are able to move at all because that may not always be the case. I do believe we should honor ourselves for attending yoga practice or working out. And I know that if we choose to bring our own peace into our daily lives we can make this world a better place.

Merle's schtick works because it comes from an authentic place. I know mine does too and, I can only hope it rings true for others the way Merle's does with me.

Second is Better than Last

2009-07-13T18:56:00.001-07:00

Although last is a place too.

Once again the dynamic duo Scott and Matt teamed up to compete in a random race they had neither trained, prepared for or performed. This time: A 10K Canoe race at the 2nd Annual Big Bear Paddlefest.

Including their entry there only two others in the category and the competition was tough. A world class paddler in a Outrigger Canoe and a team of three using kayak paddles. Scott and Matt held to the tradition, borrowed a fiber-glass boat, a set of paddles and 10 minutes before the race made a few laps around the bay. That ten minutes was enough for them to decide Scott goes up front and Matt stays in the stern.

An exciting race - I watched from behind (I competed in the solo 10 kayak race) - they battled it out; half way the kayaking canoers were hot on their tail. An open Lake crossing gave our boys the strategy they needed to stay in the lead: Paddle in a straight line.

From there, they set their sights on the Outrigger. When she dodged right, they paddled left. But ended up with a nose full of weeds, bogging them down and ensuring their second place finish. But hey, it's second and they got to stand on stage and took home a cool plaque. It was good to see them in the spotlight again even if there were no TV cameramen on hand asking them why they were in Big Bear for the race. Perhaps next time.

Paddlers Wanted

2009-07-08T21:30:00.000-07:00

Big Bear Paddlefest is this weekend - July 11 and 12 - at Captain John's Marina on the north shore of Big Bear Lake. Expo and clinics take place on Saturday and all races are Sunday. Beginning with a 10k Canoe and Kayak, 5k canoe and kayak, Kids Fun Paddle and a sprint Stand Up Paddle Board race. Prizes galore, vendors galore!

For more information, visit the official site online. Big Bear Paddlefest is part of Open Air Big Bear.

A Man, a Snake, a Stick and a Spade

2009-07-02T22:58:00.000-07:00

Every evening at 5:00 McGyver, our golden retriever, nudges his nose under an elbow or begins a low growl. Somehow he knows it’s time for his walk and he won’t take no for an answer. And every evening at ten past five we set out on a loop trail that begins in the National Forest two houses down from ours. In less than 100 yards our neighborhood fades and the pines take over.

It’s a forest full of life. Coyotes howl every other night and two weeks ago Scott saw a mountain lion basking in the sun not more than a mile from our house. We also have bears, deer, bobcats and rattlesnakes. Of all the creatures, it’s the snakes that get me. Three years ago, after a particularly wet spring, we found two in our yard. One we captured and released in the forest a quarter mile away; the other, a larger, older snake, slithered from our yard and into our neighbors. Neither of us saw it again. But I remember it was thick – over an inch in diameter.

That same summer, the people that own the property bordering our Forest, captured and killed four snakes. They cut their rattles off and nailed them to a post at the trailhead. A brief warning to 'Beware' was stapled next to the rattles. It was hand-written on a piece of lined paper that quickly faded to a sun-bleached white. We didn’t have a dog then but I ran the trail almost every morning and took heed.

Since that summer we haven’t seen any rattlesnakes in our yard or on our trail. But tonight, as I started my walk with McGyver, I came across a man with a stick and spade. He was crouched low, methodically poking at an overgrown sage with the stick. He moved deliberately, occasionally standing tall to peer down into the bush. I said ‘Hello’ and he motioned me to stop. He had been walking his dog Tilly when they came across the largest rattlesnake he had ever seen – an inch and half in diameter – sunning itself in the middle of our trail. He witnessed it move into the sage, quickly took Tilly home and returned with his weaponry. As he continued to poke at the bush I told him I was going to pass. He called over his shoulder, “Keep your ears open.” I nodded and suggested perhaps the snake had moved on, pointing to a pile of aging limbs.

As McGyver and I continued on our walk, I secretly hoped the man didn’t find the snake. I knew he would kill it. What if it was the same snake we had seen three years earlier? An old guy passing his time, enjoying the forest? While snakes give me the willies, I don’t wish them harm. I figure if I give them a wide berth, they will do the same. It’s a silent agreement I make every time I walk the trail and it seems to work. But, for now, I'll keep my ears open - though I'm not fond of snakes, I’m less inclined to carry a stick and a spade.

Pine Knot Village Art Walk

2009-06-28T21:27:00.000-07:00

The Pine Knot Village Art Walk is happening once again on July 4th weekend - both Saturday and Sunday from 10 until 5 p.m. in the Big Bear Lake Village. Scott and I will both be there and our booth will be located near United Woodcraftsmen on Pine Knot Ave. For directions and information, visit the Art Walk website.

Stop by to say hello and visit. During the show we will be featuring our newest fine art prints, offering show specials and selling artist cards in featured collections of our work.

You can also visit Summit Photography online.

Living by your Word

2009-06-07T21:34:00.001-07:00

Last week I spent some time with a friend who had returned for a visit. We had gotten to know each other while mountain biking and had reunited for a reunion ride of sorts. She reminded me of something I had said that she used for encouragement while enduring her first winter in her new hometown of Taos, New Mexico: “You can’t experience the weather unless you are out in it.”

I don’t recall the statement, but I remember where we were when I had this notion – on a longish ride in an area called Holcomb Valley. Following a tangle of old doubletrack, we were bent on circumnavigating Delamar Peak. While out we encountered violent rain and hail and were caught on the edge of an intense thunder and lightening storm. As the wind picked up and the temperatures dropped, distant flashes of light cautioned us to find safe haven on the high side of a gully we were passing. I wasn’t particularly alarmed; I knew the storm was not overhead only that it was near. For 30 minutes the three of us huddled under the canopy of a low oak tree and dug out our warm clothes.

I knew my friend was worried and I made the statement as a way to comfort her, refocus her attention. In the hostility of pelting rain and hail there was such beauty in its power. The clouds had a roiling texture and artistic appeal. I told her I felt privileged to experience the weather from our protective cover.

I’ve always liked weather. And by weather I mean something other than a sunny, stable day like middle-of-the-night thunder storms or vicious afternoon winds. In fact, I once spent three days in a tent pinned down by weather: We were kayaking in Southeast Alaska when a typhoon from Japan brought gale force winds and six foot waves to our tiny Bay. In those 72 hours I quietly fell in love with my tent mate Scott as we fought to keep our shelter from collapsing on us. Another time, while climbing in Peru’s Southern Andes, our team became separated in a snow storm as we ascended a 15,000 foot pass. Snow covered the prints of our cavelleros and we fought to stay on course - up and over the pass, before descending into a dense fog. Moving quickly down the rocky trail, we came to a point where the fog disappeared and the sun streaked a surreal plateau as Alpaca grazed undisturbed by our presence. Later, reunited, we celebrated by soaking in a hot spring we discovered and indulging in pint after pint of cold Cusquenas.

Even working as a ski patroller I endeavor to enjoy whiteout conditions as I reestablish a length of bright orange boundary line. In the insulating silence of a fierce snow storm, my breath is the only sound I hear.

Dog Tired

2009-05-29T10:49:00.000-07:00

You know it was a rough day when your 2 1/2 year old Golden struggles back to the car and then settles for only enough shade so he can close his eyes. "I think we broke him," I comment to no one in particular. I was tired too, perhaps even broken, but happily settled in the grass to enjoy the beer we had buried in the snow.

Memorial Day weekend has always been about backcountry skiing in the Tioga Pass area and over the years our group has grown. We camp at Mono Vista RV Park mostly because it is close to the "Mobil" and the showers are only a buck. This year was a little different, Scott and I mixed in some mountain biking and resort skiing. Our friends skied the classics: Dana Couloir and Ellery Bowl. But we joined in on the tour of False White (11,200') on Monday. Its prominent bowl is an awesome spring ski adventure and the approach is not too heinous. I skied it a couple of years ago and the best part is there are a number of options once at the summit such as Fantail Gullies and Gaylor Peak.

We decided to bring McGyver along on the tour. He quickly bounded up the slopes, chasing the tracks of other animals. Traversing above the tree line, we took a snack break and checked out the Bowl. Behind us were views of Mt. Dana's steep face and the 'Lion's Head.' From our vantage point, we could see a number of skiers approaching the summit on the well-worn skin track. Heading towards the bowl Scott and I arrived at the base, took a look at McGyver and made the decision to turn around. Neither one of us wanted to carry our 70 lb dog out. Nick, Jenny and Matt continued to the summit.

As we skied the steeper gullies, McGyver zig zagged behind us. Following us turn for turn. On the long traverse back to the car, he broke through a snow bridge concealing a shallow lake. I am sure the cool water felt good but he barked at us to keep moving. His pace started to slow about a mile from the trailhead. He sat down to rest every 100 yards. Poor puppy!

At the car, we fed him the rest of his lunch and topped it off with a bit of beer. He lapped it up and collapsed. Waiting for our friend's to return, we followed McGyver's lead - lapping it up and collapsing next to the Creek.

Confessions of a Reluctant Rock Climber

2009-05-12T19:02:00.001-07:00

I took up rock climbing at the urging of my friend Fred. He had signed up for a class through SCMA (Southern California Mountaineers Association) and called every week to bug me about it. I had spent a lot of time backpacking and bagging third class summits in the Sierra's and was starting to develop an interest in ascending peaks with more technical routes.

I signed on and talked a mutual friend Andrew into joining. At first, I hated it. The course didn't focus on climbing, but rather on safety. I would attend the weekend workshops and go through the process - tying 8 knots under 2 minutes, cleaning a top anchor, rappelling with and without a device, prussiking up a rope and learning to rescue a fallen climber by extricating myself out of the system. We didn't do any climbing during the 10-week course. And throughout I would whine to Andrew, "I CAN do it, I just CHOOSE not too." Or utter "What is the point? I don't need to see what's up there." For the final we had to follow one of the course's leaders up a multi-pitch climb at Tahquitz - a beautiful 700 foot granite outcropping on San Jacinto.

Terrified and sure I would die, I mitigated my fears by choosing a climb that was easy, relatively short and low angle. Darrell would lead us up The Trough - a 5.2 four-pitch climb. From the start I just wanted it to be over. We moved slowly and I complained the whole way. At the top of the third pitch I think Darrell had had enough. He told us we would have to rappel down, that if we didn't we would be out here another four hours, hiking back to our cars after dark. I think he exaggerated the timing because he was done with my whining and Fred's fearful resistance. While Darrell set up the rappel - a double rope rap of 300 feet and 2 pitches - I remember looking down at the parking lot. Spotting my black VW Passat 1,000 feet below us, I made a silent pact with God: I promised him I would never climb again if he let me survive this day and return home safely.

With the confidence of my deal in place, I loaded the system, tied a backup prussik to the rope, waved good-bye to Fred and followed Darrell into the abyss. The first rap was 140 feet to a hanging belay. Tying into the anchor, I moved to the side and stuck my toes on the 2 inch ledge and tried not to look down. We were 160 dead vertical feet off the deck. Fred last, crowded onto our ledge. Darrell pulled the rope and set up for the final descent. When it was my turn, I finally took note of Fred: His face was ashen, his fingers wrapped tightly around the daisy chain anchoring him to the ledge. He whispered he would never climb again.

Halfway down, I decided to take in my surroundings - after all it was the last time I too would ever climb again. To my surprise I smiled. It was stunning. A bird sailed by just overhead as I said hello to a fellow climber sitting on a ledge 20 feet to my left. I took a deep breath and looked out towards the horizon and down at the snake of fire road on the slope below. I smiled again at the vertical world I hadn't noticed. Perhaps I had been hasty, I did enjoy the sport and I had chosen to climb.

Over the last 10 years I have pursued rock climbing and enjoyed it immensely. I have climbed throughout California - in Yosemite, Malibu, Joshua Tree, Mammoth Lakes, Big Bear, San Diego, Los Angeles and Tahquitz - and have also spent time climbing in Pennsylvania and Alaska. In years when my climbing is strong and consistent I even lead. And in years when my climbing takes a back seat to some other sport, I feel the pull of fear every time I tie in. Like today. Always nervous on my fist ascent, I move quickly to a spot where I stop and breathe. I look down and double-check my harness. I look back at the rock inches from my face and breathe again. Then I remember why I do this - the feel of the rock beneath my palm, the challenge of finding imperfections in the wall for the tip of my toe. I push through rediscovering my finesse and listen to the rhythm of my breath as I move higher - it's so base and time slows. The reward is always the same: Finishing the day dirty, covered in hard-won sweat and grime. Grasping a cold beer, hands caked with chalk. Swapping stories with friends. I get why I climb.

New Adventures of Old Cathleen

2009-05-05T12:23:00.000-07:00

For numerous reasons, most beyond my control, I have jumped into using social media websites. Though this blog has been around for a bit, I now have a facebook account, am LinkedIn, tweet regularly, bookmark my favorite web musings and digg. Yeah, I admit it: I came late to the party but I showed up.

While I have always had a fair understanding of the power of social media, online networking and their application in a business sense, I had no idea of the magnitude. On a personal level I have 'reconnected' with people I knew in high school and even some I barely knew. The later is weird and surprising - finding out I have much more in common now with someone I never knew as a teen and are only 'friends' because we should have known each other as teens. It has been fun and not the time suck I was warned about - honestly.

The value of social media is vast and, as a writer and photographer, I cannot deny its power in generating a buzz even about my own skill set. Here is where I will insert my shameless plug: I am doing a 7 part series on social media for another blog (http://www.alderwoodgroup.com/TAG/Blog/tabid/67/Default.aspx).

Even more interesting is that in the last three days I have had two separate conversations about the value of Facebook. First, do I facebook or am I opposed and second, how do I use facebook? In both dialogues there was someone opposed to the whole notion of Facebook. Frankly, I think their views stem from the fact they aren't using Facebook or any other social media sites. Why wouldn't they be opposed and not see any value in it? The second conversation was a bit more intriguing and danced around the notion that none of us felt comfortable using Facebook to discuss the minutiae of our lives. I agreed but admitted that sometimes I felt compelled to post in kind - professing my love for pizza or my excitement at another mountain bike ride with my girlfriends.

My friend felt his Facebook account was necessary but not something he believed in. His friend said she used hers to post pictures - letting the images detail her life. I, on the other hand, just felt a little too private to boast about what I was up to 24/7. Had tried it once or twice but didn't feel too adept at it unless it related to some aspect of what I do for a living.

In short, while I won't be discussing the details of my day-to-day on sites like Facebook, I will blog about my love for pizza and a cold beer after a day of climbing at my favorite crag. And, at the very least, I am finding the more I engage with others online, the more I am liking this social media thing.

Corn Harvest on Jepson Peak

2009-04-20T10:58:00.000-07:00

Corn harvest, Southern California-style: Spring Sunday's are made for backcountry! Yesterday was the first time I set foot on Jepson Peak (11,207 ft) and skied the Northeast facing chute that rolls directly from the summit proper. We had skied the 1st chute two seasons ago - the one that is just west of the summit. It was a cold and windy day - we didn't make the final push to reach the top. The skiing was just as brilliant as I remembered. Read more about our adventure at http://www.bigbearlake.com/.

Ski Exploration of Kamchatka Presentation

2009-04-18T10:28:00.000-07:00

Brand New: We will be showing our Ski Exploration of the Kamchatka Peninsula multi-media presentation Saturday, April 25th. The venue is in Newport Beach at 3300 Newport Blvd. (go to http://www.summit-photography.com/news.html for directions/details). The event starts at 7:30 p.m. and is free. We will be accepting donations which will be used to purchase green credits to counter the energy used. For more information you can shoot us an e-mail at info@summit-photography.com. We look forward to seeing everyone and sharing our experience.

Latest Plans?

2009-04-11T17:26:00.000-07:00

A year ago we were halfway through our ski expedition on the Kamchatka Peninsula in Russia's Far East. In fact, we were getting dumped at the 208th kilometer on Kamchatka's only highway - in the middle of nowhere looking for two things: Good weather and skiable slopes. (Check out the October 2008 issue of Backcountry magazine for my piece about this portion of the trip.) We were hoping to be back in Kamchatka this month; working with Nalychevo Nature Park on developing a sustainable backcountry ski program. Needless to say - we didn't make it. We still would like to return and have shelved the plans for another spring.

Which leads me to: What next? I was at a party last night and someone asked me about our "latest plans to travel." I gave my standard answer, "Not sure where to next, but somewhere soon." It got me thinking about the next six months. Part of me misses the challenges of planning an expedition to parts unknown. Surfing the internet looking for others who may have been there or know someone who has. Sending emails to far flung places hoping to get a helpful response and make a new friend. But the other part of me is enjoying the prospect of not making any long range plans. Taking it week by week, 3-day getaway by 3 day getaway. Last year - though we were in way cool Siberia - we missed out on excellent backcountry skiing trips to the Eastern Sierra. And because we did take off the month of April it felt like all summer we were just trying to catch up and really didn't do too much else.

This spring and summer I am looking forward to adventuring closer to home. A two-week kayak trip to Washington's coast? A long backpack in the Wind River Range? A rock climbing road trip looking for stellar routes through the west? Not sure where, but I know whatever we do will be epic enough to get us through to the next big plan.

Back in a Kayak

2009-03-30T15:37:00.000-07:00

We spent the last four days attending a BCU (British Canoe Union – North American site at http://www.bcuna.com/) Level 1 Paddlesport Coaching course put on by through Aqua Adventures (http://www.aqua-adventures.com/). Jen Kleck and Phil Hadley (http://www.philhadley.co.uk/) were our course instructors. Woo Hoo! We passed and are now Level 1 Paddlesport Coaches with a 2 Star rating. More importantly – we are paddlers again.

It’s been a while and I was definitely out of my element. Having spent the last six months on dirt or snow, getting into the kayak was daunting. Last week we traveled to San Diego to go through a skills check with Jen and Jake. They were kind enough to ensure we weren’t going to hurt ourselves and we were smart enough not to hurt ourselves. Sitting in the cockpit I was so frustrated. My left didn’t want to cooperate with my right; I couldn’t think quick enough to turn myself in the correct direction. As a result I ran into a few boats and a couple of docks. I kept shaking my head and thinking “It’s okay, I can ski.” At the end of the day, we were safe and had the right credentials to participate in the BCU Level 1 course.

Then came Thursday: I was nervous from the get-go. It wasn’t the coaching. It wasn’t standing in front of our group and pretending to coach a specific technique. It wasn’t developing a lesson with an appropriate progression. It was the fact that I could be on the water and potentially in the water, upside down, stranded in the cockpit of my boat – looking like an idiot at best and drowning at worst. I barely slept.

We met our group first thing – eleven paddlers of varying skill, all ages and interesting experiences. Our leader – Phil – laid out the schedule. This eased my nerves a bit and from there we delved into coaching theory and by afternoon had taught our first session. The day ended with homework around the picnic table over a few beers with fellow paddlers. This was our schedule for the four days culminating in a written exam and coaching real, live paddlers.

I remember the first time I kayaked. It was a rented sit-on-top in Marina Del Rey. My friend Susan and I had been invited on a 12-day water exploration of Alaska’s Prince William Sound west out of Whittier. I had canoed as a kid but never kayaked. We rented kayaks three mornings a week and paddled around the marina. I became proficient enough to have an amazing first kayak-based adventure. On that trip I met and fell in love with Scott and I broke my seven-year stint as a vegetarian. Bacon is super hard to resist when you are miles from any sign of civilization.

The following year I kayaked the Colorado River, spent 10 days in Alaska once again and co-planned and executed a five-week kayak exploration of Central Russia’s Lake Baikal. (We think we were the first Americans to kayak the remote north east shoreline – between Aya Bay and the village of Davsha.) That was in 2002.

Fast forward to 2008: Still interested in kayaking, we splurged and invested in two Seda Ikuma 17’s. Beautfiul boats, above my skill set but a boat I am getting used to. And, after this weekend, I am so motivated to put together an expedition – like Mongolia, Bolivia or back to Russia – and spend time paddling around Big Bear Lake developing my skills. There is nothing like taking time away from the norm to create some challenge in life!

So Cal Backcountry

2009-03-25T21:10:00.000-07:00

The sport of backcountry skiing is not typically associated with Southern California - at least to most. But some of us know that So Cal actually holds its own when it comes to skiing off piste - particularly in the San Gorgonio Wilderness. Interestingly, back in the late 50’s/early 60’s Walt Disney proposed developing San “G” into a world-class ski resort and even pitched it as a potential spot to host the 1960 Olympic Games. Unsuccessful and weary of the publicity, Disney dropped this notion (his action’s actually helped to protect San G and its surrounding peaks) and turned his attention north to Mineral King. This proved even worse for Disney’s public image and resulted in a costly legal battle with the Sierra Club.

Every spring as I skin to the upper ridgeline, I try to imagine a brightly painted lift bisecting San “G’s” Sun Bowl. I try to fathom the slopes below us spotted with people and a big parking lot and lodge set at its base. Dropping into any of the number of lines that fall from San “G’s” seven mile-long ridge, I am so happy Disney’s resort never came to be. I spend so much time in this range - training, skiing, hiking. This past weekend I joined six other patrollers and instructors for an NSP Mountaineering Travel and Rescue event. Our goal: To assist five students in a winter ski mountaineering adventure. Of course, as a large group we moved slow and opted to set camp low. From there we skinned to the summit of Mt. Charleton (10800) and made a quick descent of the peak’s perfectly treed eastern ridge. Not a bad line for So Cal - variable conditions made it challenging enough for smiles and high fives back at camp.

This trip has been a favorite of mine for the last six years. While it’s purpose is to teach, it is mostly about forging new friendships, sharing hearty meals and passing communal flasks of warm, spiced rum. An experience enhanced by spending a couple of nights out in an environment colored in white where temps dip into the teens. And every time I venture into this wilderness I thank Walt Disney for the role he played in saving these slopes for those of us who choose to ‘earn our turns.’

My Experiment Ends

2008-11-04T15:11:00.000-08:00

My 'Living Leaner' experiement ended - finally - on Halloween night. While from a pure numbers standpoint, I did not 'win' in my attempt to spend less than $100 on items other than essentials for 31 days. In early October I was so confident that I could do this - perhaps a little cocky. I witnessed it unravel mid-month and continue its demise through to the end. That said, if you look at my experiement for the purpose of education - I learned where my money goes and how spending habits impact my quality of life. I was, in fact, a winner.

The final tally: $287.56.

I feel in full disclosure (perhaps even in my defense) I have to mention a couple things that attributed to my spending. First, I threw a party. It was in line with my theme of not spending but throwing parties costs money and can not be avoided. Our theme: 'Clothes, Booze and Shoes.' I invited seven girlfriends over to trade unwanted clothes. In the end each of us walked away with at least 2 new-to-us outfits with leftover items going to a women's shelter. There was no leftover booze. My other two spending factors: Scott returned from the East coast and together we travelled to Yosemite Valley on Halloween. Though unavoidable, I am happy to have Scott home and to have visited Yosemite.

Overall, I feel pretty good about my spending. While I am sure I could have done better, I learned my life is better when I spend less, or at the very least, spend with presence of mind. My October experiment has ended but I continue to plod along enjoying my leaner existence. I am actually beginning to feel optimistic about the future. Of course, this could all change as the poll results are tallied.... More on this tomorrow.

Rethinking My Budget

2008-10-13T12:30:00.000-07:00

I am starting to re-think my budget for the month. I don't know how the author of the Reader's Digest piece survived with his wife and kid on $100 bucks for an entire month. He must have stocked up on virtually everything they might possibly need. This is not something I did, nor did I consider. I guess this represents a realistic look into where I spend my money.

I am going to go over budget but I am also learning some valuable lessons. Learning a few things about myself and my spending habits - noticing the emotions that drive the purchase of things. It's interesting - I see a cute shirt and I immediately have this emotional reaction. "I would look so good in that shirt - I must have it. No, I NEED it." I have to allow this emotional wave to roll in and back out until I am left with the notion that, nope, you really don't need it.

Anyway, this week's tally:
Gas $38.85 (cheaper to fill the tank than put in a set amount, right?); Groceries $34.57 (had a friend in town - so spent more than I would have); and Hot Apple Pie A La Mode $5.00 (It was homemade, hot and a treat - sometimes you just have to indulge). Total: $78.42

Damage to date is $134.46. Half way through the month and over budget. Now I am just curious as to where I will end up. Thirteen days into my Living Leaner experiment and I am running roughly $10.00 a day. Shit.

Spending Feels So Good!

2008-10-07T16:58:00.001-07:00

That's why we do it, right? I mean - I finally did break out the ole ATM card to buy mostly essential groceries and a super-essential shower-head. (The nozzle on my shower broke Thursday. The stream of water merely drizzled out of the head and I HAD to break down and go get one Sunday. Got the Elephant - interesting name for a shower head - it works too well. Now I need to get a slow-flow thingy to restrict the Elephant's spout.)

The tally so far:
Vons 30.62
Sol Foods 25.42
The Elephant 31.24
Total: 87.28

Yikes - my budget is pretty much blown. Well, the Elephant was essential and unforeseeable - so for now I am going to set that amount aside. The groceries - well, they were mostly essential. I did buy a bottle of Chardonnay. I rationalize: I need to have fun too.

It felt good to part with some cash - almost powerful. I didn't feel guilty but I did consider everything I put in my cart - even the wine. I bought eggs, cheese, organic produce (I am a member of a co-op - it's affordable and good for the environment - see post below), toilet paper, soy milk (steaming my own lattes at home), yogurt and orange juice (feel a cold coming on). Not too bad - no cookies, no junk food, no useless but smartly packaged toiletry items. Actually, I feel intelligent and responsible, and a little depressed that I only have $43.96 for the next 24 days. I'm not optimistic.

Day 3 of Operation Living Leaner

2008-10-03T15:32:00.000-07:00

It's Friday and day 3 of my experiment: To go on a non-spending spree for the entire month of October. So far, so good. I know - it's been only three days but I have spent nothing. I am proud to say the same ten dollar bill I had in my wallet Wednesday morning is still there. I have, however, driven a total of 30 miles - most of them today. I decided to do a bit of marketing for my yoga studio - dropping off information and freebies (spreading the Love!) to a number of businesses in my community. But last night I came across two coupons for 15% off all clothing at REI - I set them aside thinking it would be nice to go shopping this weekend.

Negative: I'm on a spending diet. And so it goes ....

Living Leaner

2008-09-18T11:35:00.000-07:00

I just read an article in Reader's Digest about a family that went on a non-buying spree for one month. The author, his wife and son gave up all expenditures except for essential foods for 30 days. Aside from normal spending like paying the mortgage, utility bills and phone - they budgeted themselves $100.00 for the month. It was an entertaining and interesting read and pointed out how much richer they felt when they discovered they have everything they need.

While I would never label myself a spender, I am not a saver either. My sister Ann was the saver in the family. She even saved the candy she collected on Halloween - enjoying her cache well into the month of May. Unlike Ann I never really saved nor limited what I spent on essential and non-essential items. Truthfully this hasn't been too disastrous for me because I really feel I have everything I need. Of course it helps that I live in a small town away from Big Box stores begging me to open my wallet at every turn. I think its only natural that I evolved into a non-consumer just because of where I live.

Of course, my spending habits have been affected by the state of our economy and even the environment. I am finding myself putting more thought into what I purchase, where I purchase it and how I pay for it. Basically, I buy essential items from local merchants and pay with cash. But the article has made me think that I could do even better - like choosing to ride my bike everywhere I need to go, making my lunch everyday even when I am in my home office and skip buying a latte even though I only do this twice a week. So I have decided for the next two weeks I am going to think about how I could live leaner and what this means for my lifestyle. My goal is to go cold turkey in October - limiting my purchases to not more than $100.00 for thirty-one days - that's $3.22 a day.

A question of convenience

2008-09-06T14:56:00.000-07:00

In July I joined the food co-op Suzie Lerma with Sol Food Market set up. When I first heard there was a co-op, I wasn't sold on the idea but wanted to support Suzie and her efforts to provide our small town with wholesome, organic and healthy foods.

I had never been a member of a co-operative and really wasn't too sure what it meant. Nor had I ever made a conscious effort to consume seasonal produce. I was fairly aware that some of our supermarket foods travel tremendous distances - like grapes from Chile and spinach from Mexico - and I had started limiting my purchases to items grown only in the western states. But I was fascinated with the idea of consuming produce based on season and locale.

A co-op, I read, is when consumers pool their resources together and share in the benefits. With our co-op we pay a monthly fee which funds the time, effort and costs in ordering and obtaining produce each week. In return, we receive wholesale pricing on locally grown, seasonal and (mostly) organic produce. We are also expected to share in the work load. Only one hour per month. So, on a Tuesday, I joined three other members to sort through fresh produce and put together orders. Working side-by-side in the cool space of Sol Food's walk-in refrigerator I began to connect with these other members in my community and the food I was taking home. A connection with food I hadn't experienced since high school when I went to our garden to pick tomatoes, lettuce and cucumbers for our evening meal.

This got me interested. A little research revealed the importance of having local food available. I found out that yields from organic farms are equal to the yields of conventional farming - e.g., farms using pesticides. That farmer's markets and co-op's support what are considered small farm operators - those with under $250,000 in sales per year. And that small farm operators make up 94% of farms in the United States. Also, through farmer's markets and co-op's - low income families have access to fresh, organic and healthy foods.

Perhaps most interesting is the trend and growing desire to obtain fresh products. The number of farmer's markets has increased each year since 1995. This urban/farm linkage provides people with a connection to their food source and personal interaction. Not to mention it's a source of income and allows farmers to stay in the business of farming. I was curious so I asked Suzie if I could join her on one of her weekly trips to purchase produce for the co-op.

She invited me to tag along on her Tuesday route: Five hours from start to finish. We left Big Bear at noon with the goal of arriving in Upland no earlier than 1:30 p.m. to meet Doug and purchase 48 bottles of raw milk. Because raw milk is strictly regulated, there are only two dairies in California allowed to sell it and both are located in Northern California. Doug drives north on Monday afternoons, picks up the raw milk from the dairy and returns to Southern California. He drives all night so he can deliver the product fresh to his customers the following day. Because his route doesn't take him anywhere near Big Bear, the all cash deal takes place in Doug's driveway - a ubiquitous neighborhood of three-car garage homes with views of the San Gabriel Mountains.

With the milk on ice we drive east towards Redlands, making a quick stop at Clarks - a whole food store in Loma Linda. After purchasing a few hard-to-find items for the co-op we cut through the rolling hills that run parallel to the 10 freeway. A canyon framed by sun scorched hills leads us past a series of farms. The temperature is in the nineties and you can see the heat rising from the pavement. Crossing railroad tracks we follow a single dirt lane past a mobile home and a trio of barking dogs. The road ends at a concrete hacienda with a broad porch shaded by two oak trees. Behind the home, several acres of farm head off toward the hills. The farmer, also named Doug, ducks under a clothes line of white cotton tee-shirts and greets us.

He tells me he has another 20 acres down the road. Though he farms most of it he leases a few acres to other growers. In a cool room Suzie and Doug get down to business - sorting through sweet, red and russet potatoes, green, red and yellow bell peppers, melons and cantaloupes and a box of cucumbers. Suzie picks the vegetables she wants handing back those that are over ripe. Doug hands us two Israeli Melons to take home and sample. I wander outside with Benji - Suzie's seven-month-old son - to view the crops. The smell of dirt is heavy in the air and a tractor sits ready in the middle of a field. I learn that Doug also supplies produce to Wolfgang Puck's chain of restaurants in West Los Angeles, participates in the Farm to School Program and sells his fruits and vegetables at a number of large markets in Los Angeles and Ventura counties.

The earthen aroma is intense in the car as we drive highway 38 back to Big Bear. During the ride our conversation is easy: We discuss the importance of obtaining our foods locally and the environmental sustainability of organic farming. We talk about the deep connection we feel when you know the farmer who tilled the land, planted the crops and picked the food. That relationship we miss when we settle for the convenience of a large grocery store.

While I still shop at Vons, I purchase my produce from Sol Food. I'm sold on the concept Suzie introduced - not because it is cheaper than the alternative but because it is the better alternative. Plus I have a deep connection with the food I eat - I've met Doug and I want him to continue to farm his land and provide for his family.

A Quote

2008-08-28T13:02:00.001-07:00

Yesterday I was reading through the journal I kept while I was in Kamchatka. I came across my entry for April 16 where I had written down a quote from the book I was reading at the time - Three Cups of Tea. In the book, the author quotes another writer - Helena Norberg-Hodge. The quote I wrote down is from her book Ancient Futures.

"I used to assume that direction of progress was somehow inevitable, not to be questioned. I passively accept a new road through the middle of a park, a steel and glass bank where a 200-year-old church had stood and the fact that life seemed to get harder and faster with each day. I do not anymore. In Ladakh (Pakistan), I have learned that there is more than one path in the future and I have had the privilege to witness another saner way of life - a pattern of existence based on the co-evolution between human beings and the earth."

I remember the day I wrote this. I remember that it was cold and we were exhausted. It was a rest day for us. We sat around camp in our booties, puffy down pants and sub zero jackets. We frosted cookies with nutella, read and watched the day pass by. I remember feeling homesick. I remember being hyper-aware. I remember writing this down and thinking - right on lady, there is more than one path. And I remember smiling at the thought of embracing a saner way of life when I returned home.

Thought I would share...

Over the Handle Bars

2008-08-25T14:57:00.000-07:00

I LOVE mountain biking. It is a sport I never thought I would pursue. When I lived in Los Angeles I was a triathlete and preferred my road bike. I couldn't understand why anyone would ride dirt. It's much harder than riding smooth pavement. The bikes are heavier and the downhill a bit scary. Then I moved to the mountains.

Looking for a spin class one May morning, a local instructor said, "It's nice out - we don't ride indoors anymore." I was intriqued. "Do you have a bike?" she asked. "Yes, I do," was my response. I met her and four other girls at 5:30 a.m. at the Triangle in Fawnskin. We rode Grout Bay. It was almost magical, the light illuminated the wild flowers that lined either side of the trail. The ride was equal parts laughter and hard work. And even though the mountain bike I owned was a rusty, 36 pound, nine-year old Haro with an inch of travel, I still had a good time. Six weeks later, on my 40th birthday I bought a hardtail Specialized Stump Jumper. Then I dragged my boyfriend out on a rental bike and showed him how much fun it was. He was hooked and bought a Cannondale hardtail with a Lefty fork.

These last three summers have been about exploring the trails in my community. Meeting for early morning rides and developing friendships that will last a lifetime. My riding abilities have also improved. I rarely ever fall. Except for these last two weeks: My first was impressive. I sailed over my handle bars hitting a log drop. The log caught my chain ring and stopped my bike. I continued on, however, and scorpioned onto the trail with dirt the consistency of powdered sugar. I lay motionless, starfished in the center of the trail mentally scanning my body for injury. I felt only one rock jabbing at my right hip. Hearing another rider come down behind me, I reluctantly moved to the side. Covered in dirt I tried to brush it off - I couldn't. I wore it like a badge of honor as I climbed up yet another fire road for one more descent. Get back in the saddle, right? It took two showers to remove every particle but otherwise I was fine.
My second fall was stupid. I was crusing a relatively easy trail thinking how lucky I was to live in such close proxmity to great mountain biking when my front tire was swallowed by soft sand. As my bike went right, my body flew left. I let out a yelp before I hit - vocalizing the reality of my landing: Two very sharp rocks. My knee cap took one while my shin took the other. Though I couldn't walk for a couple of minutes, I did recover and rode back to my car. It has made teaching yoga a bit challenging this week and added to the army of scars I have accumulated since taking up the sport. But, again, I was fine.

Overall I am glad I fall. While I am not happy about the bruises or the pain - neither are permanent and that's pretty much a metaphor for my life ....

An Old-Fashioned Road Trip

2008-08-09T07:14:00.000-07:00

Finally some action! Packing up the truck, loading the bikes on the rack and grabbing the dog. First stop, Sequoia National Park. After that only a notion of sights we wouldn't mind looking at.

Why are road trips so appealing? Is it the excuse to unapologetically eat at every greasy spoon along the intestate? The simplicity of life on the road? Or that time appears to stop when you are listening to tunes and enjoying the scenery?

While I love to be home, I love to travel more. Travel short distances, long distances, for 2-days or 2-months - it doesn't matter. Traveling has this feel - this sense of the unknown. I have never been one to spend time off sticking close to home. Yep, I'm a vay-cationer. Not interested in taking a stay-cation. That's why we have sick days, right? I mean, sure, when I lived near the beach, I occasionally would leave a pre-8:00 a.m., croaky-voiced message for my secretary. Letting her know I wouldn't be in, I was not feeling well and adding an uncontrolled fit of coughing as I hung up the phone. Then I would hustle down to 2nd Street Cafe LA Times in hand, have my favorite breakfast and read the paper at my leisure. From there I was free to spend the rest of the day at the beach - warm sun on exposed skin feels so good. As I people watched from the vantage point of my towel I would wonder what everyone was doing at the beach. Were they sick too? Or just smart enough to have choosen a profession where they could spend the day in the sand?

Yep, vacation! A good, old-fashioned vacation. Sure gas prices are high but we'll mitigate the costs by sleeping under the stars, eating at cheap greasy spoons and spending every moment in the present.

Returning to my redneck roots

2008-07-11T19:27:00.000-07:00

It's always fun to return to the town you grew up in - especially if you hail from Fulton, New York, aka "The City with a Future," population 12,000 give or take 5,000. I have lived in Southern California for almost as many years as I did in Fulton. At times I could equate visiting Central New York to travelling in a foreign country - it's like the United States only different.... But I find it interesting how easy it is to fall into the rythym of life in upstate and quickly become "Cathy," or rather an acsented trill "Caaa-thee," once again.

Years ago I proudly brought my Southern California-born, ex-boyfriend Paul home for show. The extended family gathered for dinner including my cousin and his 4-year old son. A cute kid: Friendly and personable. I bent down and teased him, "Why is there chocolate on your shirt?" He slowly lowered his gaze to the stain, paused and cooly lifted his head stating, "I had a dough-nut; I hate frickin' dough-nuts." I'll never forget the look on Paul's face and to this day - 12 years later - my friends quote it like it was a line from the movie Blazing Saddles.

I like going 'home.' I miss the familiarity of knowing a place so intimately. Reliving my personal history - good and bad. Like where I made out with Teddie Webster for the first time or smoked menthals before social studies.

This last time my sister Anna joined me for the visit 'home.' She had arranged for us to take a day trip to the hunting camp my Dad had been a member of for 50 years. It is in the northern territory of New York state in a roadless region west of the Adironacks. Once there, we rode miles of dirt road on old mountain bikes and caught up on each others lives - I hadn't seen her in over a year. I made her ride through every puddle until we were filthy from the waist down and shared the wisdom my friends had given me when descending a steep grade, "Box back, box back." After lunch we traded up to a pair of 4-wheel drive Polaris quads. I was hesitant, personally preferring self-propelled over motorized travel. I admit, it was fun and probably a sport I would have pursued had I not moved west at 22.

While we were there we rediscovered a park I had visited once when I was 12 - Green Lakes State Park. We decided to hike the trail that traced the shores of the two lakes. It was beautiful - broad paths lined with trees and lush vegetation where numerous runners took advantage of the shaded trail. As Anna and I walked ahead of my Dad and her husband I confided in her that I really could envision living on the East coast if I had daily access to a place like this. But truthfully the pull of 'home' was fleeting. I like the East Coast but I hate frickin' win-ter.

Like Work Only Better

2008-05-16T12:24:00.001-07:00

Just another Thursday: A 6:00 a.m. mountain bike ride, a bit of time answering e-mails, pitching stories and editing photographs, taking 10 guys from Santa Monica out and showing them how to rock climb and rappel, teaching a 6:00 p.m. yoga practice and finishing the day with a dinner and margarita meeting for July's Big Bear PaddleFest.

Yesterday illustrates exactly why I live in a small, mountain town and why I moved here in the first place. Well, at least some concept of why I moved to Big Bear. Though not my first choice, Big Bear has grown on me. I always knew a mountain town was more in step with my energy and spirit. Living in the city mid-week and escaping to Mammoth, the Sierras or hiking LA's less urban trails wasn't a horrible existence but it always left depressed on Monday's and counting the hours until the next weekend. I enjoyed my time in LA, even consider myself a successful city-dweller, but I counldn't return.

Although, I have to admit the transition to small-town living was not easy. The first two years we were here, we didn't have a clue. No friends - only acquaintances. Spent much of our time remodeling the house and continuing to drive for outdoor escapes. Didn't really engage much outside of our city circle-of-friends. I would have to say it wasn't until we started to mountain bike that we began to meet people with similar interests. Until then I wasn't too sure there were truly outdoorsy people in Big Bear. As we started to spend more time mountain biking and less time remodeling, we tapped into a vibrant, outdoor community. And with this came a sense of place and belonging - that if something ever happened to us or we needed someone to check on our house while traveling, we'd get help or we'd know whom to call.

The most imporant thing about living in this small, mountain community is that it gave me the license to explore a lifestyle that had always resonated with me - what most might consider a risky or quirky way of earning a living. I had often dreamed of chucking the 9-to-5 corporate job and piece-mealing my earnings from multiple sources, but I didn't think I could do this while living in Los Angeles. In fact, it took me almost 3 years to discover I could do it here. The truth: I work harder than I ever have before. Maintain longer hours because, at the end of the day, I have no guarantee money will flutter into my bank account every other Friday. And even after 2 1/2 years of this existence, I find it at times scary. But I wouldn't change a thing and mitigate my fears with thoughts of not being able to meet friends for a long, mid-morning mountain bike ride or not being able to linger at my local coffee house.

American Worker - Ski Patrol!

2008-05-11T17:35:00.000-07:00

Not to drag out our Russian adventure, but Matt found a link referencing the Competition. See http://www.risk.ru/users/6floor/3674. These were taken by two snowboarders from Petropavlovsk that were filming the Race. There are some excellent images of the more technical sections Matt and Scott had to negotiate. The translation under Matt's photo goes something like, "Matt Theis, American worker, ski patrol."

As they say, "No Risk, No Fun!"

Back Home

2008-05-05T17:30:00.000-07:00

After picking up our luggage (all of our luggage this time) and filling up the car's tank ($4.05 a gallon - what the hell happened while we were gone?), we began the long drive to pick up McGyver and head home to Big Bear. Over the weekend we unpacked, did about 5 loads of laundry, sifted through our mail, caught up with friends and saw two of them off as they move on to Bend, Oregon. The jet lag took hold on Sunday evening as I lay staring at the ceiling for hours listening to Pink Floyd. Sleep came about 3:00 a.m. and was interrupted at 7:00 for a planned farewell-mountain-bike ride for other friends moving to Taos, New Mexico.

While it is a let down not to be skiing in Kamchatka, it is good to be home. We have made the promise to simplify our lives even further. In 2002, after returning from Lake Baikal in Central Siberia we left the big city, bought a house and moved to Big Bear Lake - a small mountain town in Southern California's San Bernardino Mountains. Though I am not sure what will be the result of our trip this time I do know we spent the weekend contemplating our trip, drinking a lot of tea, avoiding our cell phones, the news and television, and parked the car and rode our bikes everywhere.

Perhaps this will be the new direction of Airstream Nomad - a continuation of Kamchatka and our quest to enjoy every day and eeek out a living in a small town doing the same.

Bright Lights, Big City

2008-04-30T04:23:00.000-07:00

We find ourselves in downtown Seoul - a bit like immersion therapy before returning to LAX and our lives. Neon lights, big screen TV's, music thumping, ice cream, Starbucks and department stores. Much like being screamed at rather than spoken to.

It's an interesting contrast. Seoul is modern, the roads paved and well-marked, buildings rise tall and straight. The landscape is well-tended, green and manicured. It's layout is thoughtful. Whereas Petropavlovsk, the urban center of Kamchatka, is hap-hazard and confusing. Ugly concrete apartment buildings abound in varying shades of blue, brown and gray back-lit against aging Volcanos. Bags of trash, old tires and plastic bottles collect by the side of the road. Even potholes are ignored. Their increasing size causes traffic to swerve into the opposing lane. But of the two, I prefer Russia's Far East - its complex simplicity, its people and even its blemishes.

It was extremely sad to leave Yelizovo, our home base for the last 27 days. If I could have stayed in Kamchatka I would have been okay, but here in Seoul, I am anxious to return home and get to work on articles and photographs from the last month. We left with the promise to return and even the promise to collaborate with the people we met to help build a low-impact and sustainable backcountry ski tour industry on Kamchatka.

More Photos!

2008-04-27T16:11:00.001-07:00

The winners! (In my mind!)

Koryakskaya Volcano opposite Avachinsky Volcano.

Scott being interviewed for his amazing performance.

Last is a place too!

2008-04-27T15:52:00.000-07:00

But not for our American team! The Americanskis took a respectable fifth place in the 3rd Annual Kamchatka Ski Alpinism Competition.

The race was exciting! Unexpectedly and at the last minute, three French teams signed on. The Russians were happy to host the international racers, however, when the French took first in the team competition, they were a bit stunned. Quite an upset! This is a serious competition - some participants don speed suits, others travel 10 hours by plane from Moscow, it is covered by national television (both Scott and Matt were interviewed) and is sanctioned as a qualifying event for larger races.

As to the individual competition, after drinking vodka and beer Saturday evening (btw - learned a new saying "Drinking beer without vodka is like throwing money to the wind"), Matt decided to race in the individual competition Sunday morning. From the start he set a fast pace and broke trail. Third to the top of the first uphill, he skied down to the more technical rock section and climbed the rope in strong position to place. Unfortunately we did not bring all the proper gear and this impacted Matt's ability to make a speedy exit of the traverse and the downclimb in order to reach the final ski descent. Matt ended up finishing 5th behind competitors from the Kamchatka Rescue service. He did receive and honorable mention: All admired him for the way he 'danced' on his skis (the sole Telemarker) and the Competition judges rewarded his prowess with a pair of socks. They also invited him back to teach the Russians how to tele.

We were also invited back for next year's race and likewise we promised to compete. I hope to team up with my new friend Inga from Yelizovo to become the first international women's team to enter. It would be really cool to return to Avacha Pass and experience it as a competitor.

Today we are off to Petropavlosk for the day - visiting the Rescue headquarters, meeting with the Director of Tourism for Kamchatka and having coffee with our friend Slava, the kayaker. It has been an awesome month and we leave on Wednesday for Seoul before returning home. Hope to update you then.

Stability Issues

2008-04-23T15:37:00.000-07:00

Stability issues! Just two words sums up the last 7 days in the area of Volcano Bakening. Two of us experienced gastro-intestinal instability and one of us was overstable, much like a plugged bear. The snow pack was with the majority and a bit less stable than we would have liked.

The day we arrived at basecamp we were in the beginning of a storm which landed us in the tent for the duration of the day. When we awoke the next day it was super windy, bitter cold and blue-bird clear with 6 to 12 inches of new snow. Skiing around our first day we were checking out conditions and saw quite a bit of slide activity and wind loaded slopes. We were able to find a few aspects that were firm and safe and skied until 8:00 p.m. The second day warmed up quite a bit and we сlimbed higher to ski a bit more, again skiing until 8:00 p.m. Our third day of skiing, though windy, allowed us to top out on a peak with spectacular views of Bakening.

We had a great time in this remote area. Did not see a single soul for the entire time in the mountains. Stumbled on a few bear prints and a bear den but otherwise not much in the way of wildlife. An interesting trip: From the time we handed the bus driver a note written by Martha (it said something to the effect of "Dear Mr. Bus Driver, please let these crazy Americans off the bus at the 208th kilometer and then look for them at the same kilometer on April 23rd or 24th. Thank you and be nice to them!") to the 208th km - it was in the middle of frickin' no where. From the slog in to the three days of sun and skiing. From the bus stopping and picking us up right on schedule to the little Russian girl passing us Skittles through the seats and the three beers we enjoyed while riding the bus back to Yelizovo!

Today we hope to firm up our plans for the weekend. The plan is to leave tomorrow with Gleb, the Director of Recreation and Tourism for Nalychevo Park and Inga, the Director of Ecological Education for Nalychevo, and head to Avacha Volcano for the Competition. (Officially an internationally sanctioned race because of the Americanskis!) We will be fed and housed for the entire weekend with the rest of the competitors and are looking forward to making some new friends and contacts. We were hoping to go cat skiing on Sunday but think this will change due to the weather forecast calling for a "cyclone." In which case we will chill at a local hot springs, begin packing or ski at one of the resorts. Monday I have a meeting with the Director of Tourism for Kamchatka to discuss eco-tourism, sustainability, independent travel, backcountry ski touring and other issues related to North Americans traveling to Kamchatka. We leave on Wednesday for a long layover in Seoul and will get more pictures posted then.

Until next time, Das Veedanya.

One More!

2008-04-16T17:46:00.001-07:00

WORST HOT SPRiNGS EVER HE SHOUTS!

Photos!

2008-04-16T17:46:00.000-07:00

Baggage!
Window from plane flying into kamchatka!
Slava!
On Mt. Cupola - Brilliant Skiing Day!
Rest day - frosting cookies with Nutella!

4174 miles from home plus 45 kilometers

2008-04-15T17:04:00.000-07:00

We have returned to the city of Yelizovo, showered, washed our clothes, and dined at our favorite restaurant The Castle (or something like that - it's in Russian, so we aren't sure). The Castle coat check girl and the wait staff all greeted us warmly. At least some of them were happy to see us. The first few times we ate there we did not tip, didn't think it was standard here. Then we figured out it is customary to leave gratuity. Unfortunately for our first two waitresses - they did not receive any extra rubles from us. Fortunate for our last two waitresses, they did get their 15%. Hopefully this did not cause a rift between the four or call into question any service issues. Today we are wandering around the downtown area checking in with the Park officials, running errands, exchanging money, resupplying our food and looking to purchase a voice recorder. A couple of things before I move on to the last 9 days: We wanted to thank everyone for commenting. It makes us laugh and think of home, so please, comment away.

Also, we are finding the people of Kamchatka to be very friendly. Not that our experience in 2002 in the Baikal region was anything but hostile. Just seems here, on the Peninsula, the people are more likely to engage than scowl. It may be they are used to seeing tourists. Martha Madsen, an ex-pat from Homer, Alaska and tour operator in Yelizovo gave us the statistic that Kamchatka receives 40,000 tourists a year. Of the 40,000, 43% are non-Russian visitors. Based on discussions with various guides we've met and with Martha, most non-Russian tourists are from Europe, Australia, Japan, and Korea. Few North Americans travel here. Perhaps it is the distance and the expense, or even a reluctance to visit Russia. It is too bad - it is a wonderful place and we are all definitely planning to return.

As we mentioned we decided to first access Nalychevo Park. It is fairly close to Yelizovo - about 35 km and is an area the local population typically goes to ski tour. Ski touring in Russia is much like what we would call Cross-Country skiing in the US. They use skinny skis which typically do not have metal edges but have a fish-scale appearance to their bases to aid in climbing uphill. They are light, glide fast and the boots are comfortable for long distances. These Russians either carry a pack or are supported by snowmobile, and they typically stay in the backcountry cabins. Five years ago, the Park's Director received funds from World Wildlife Fund Germany to develop the area of the Hot Springs - building sleeping cabins, changing cabins and decking at three warm pools and a helicopter pad.

Access to the Park is limited to three main trailheads. We left from the settlement of Pinachevo and followed the Pinachevo River up and over a pass that dropped us into a wild valley fenced in by volcanos (both dormant and active) and several series of ridges. Snowmobiles are allowed into the Park and are actually quite popular. With this we followed a snowmobile track the whole way into the center of the Park - Nalychevoskiye Hot Springs. The distance is 45 km to the Hot Springs. We were told it was a 2-day trek in and 2-days out. While the officials were correct about the plugged bears (we saw many tracks and only one pile of scat), the accuracy of the number of days it would take us with our heavy packs and our ski gear was more than 2 days. Probably more accurate to say it was a slogfest, plain and simple.

The trip could be characterized as: Day 1 - slog; Day 2 - slog up to pass, experience storm and white out conditions, slog down a few hundred feet and camp; Day 3 - slog to base camp; Day 4 - slog to what Matt described as "Tepid water with floating snot growths and biting bugs: The worst hot springs ever!" (Though I would not totally agree with his assessment, they were pretty snotty and it did add to our overall stench.) Day 5 - rest from all the slogging; Day 6 - slog over the pass because the weather did not cooperate with our original plan to ski all day; Day 7 - BRILLIANT BACKCOUNTRY SKIING OF MOUNT COPULA AND TWO BEAUTFIUL UNKNOWN COULOIRS EAST OF ITS SUMMIT!; and Day 8 - slog back to Pinachevo and enjoy the three beers we buried in the snow at the trailhead 7 days earlier. So, as you can see we are now masters of slog which shoudl be good training for an upcoming competition Matt and Scott are entering (more on this later). Overall a great trip and we were not disappointed. As many of you know, backcountry skiing requires patience and the understanding that it is what it is... So, with this in mind we are happy to be planning our next foray into Kamchatka's backcountry.

Quick run down of our plans: We leave on the 18th to travel north to Mount Bakening (pronounced Bah-kane-ing) and will spend until the 24th hoping to do a lot more skiing and a little less slogging. Then, we return to Yelizovo for a tight turn to go to a sanctioned ski mountaineering competition on Avacha Volcano. Matt and Scott are entering as a two-man team and hope to do better than last place. It seems important for us to go so they can now call it an international competition. The cool thing is we will be able to see an area we haven't seen, hang with other ski mountaineers and get a good feel for the backcountry touring scene. Plus after the competition we are going cat skiing with a bunch of Rotarians. Random but explainable.

Have to go the Post Office - our access to internet - is closing for lunch. Will post again when we return from Bakening.

BAGGAGE MUST LIFE

2008-04-06T16:54:00.000-07:00

Simply put: Our baggage has arrived. And truthfully, Sunday was a rough day. We had all lost faith in our friend at Air Canada and were thinking perhaps we would never see our beloved skis and boots, Dan's tent, our climbing gear, sleeping bags and cherished Mountain Hardwear Sub Zero down jackets (it's frickin' cold here). That all changed when we caught a glance of the sport tube holding our skis and the first of our duffles. It's the little things in life like a fresh change of socks, deodarant (Matt's old spice shared between the three of us SUCKS!), or a hairbrush. We decided to celebrate with drinking. Actually, the plan was to drink either way, but in this case we were able to do so happily.

Today, a new day and we are much happier - in fact it reminds us of a slogan we saw on a bar of Korean soap: Makes you clean. Makes you smooth. Makes you happy. Our plan is to go into the mountains tomorrow for an 8-9 day ski tour of Nalychevskiye Park. We met with the Park's Director of Recreation this morning to get our permits, discuss snow conditions and the best way to enter. Our last question to them was: "Are the bears active?" To which they responded, "No, they may be awake but they are not agressive, they are weak and don't eat meat. They are plugged and need to unplug, and must find roots and vegetation (er, fiber?)." Thank god! They have constipated bears here! And Matt was so worried...

As to 'BAGGAGE MUST LIFE,' we confess it is not ours. We stole it from bus stop graffiti that said in English "PUNK MUST LIFE." Our trip can now go on and 'LIFE.'

Who needs clean underwear anyway.

2008-04-05T03:29:00.000-07:00

Quick note - it's late and we have been drinking beers with a Russian kayaker named Slava... So, we have arrived in Kamchatka. It is incredible and will upload photos when I can. (Internet is a tad bit slow here...)

Our clothes are ready for a rest - it is day 6 I believe. But really, who's counting when you have your health and the local brew Kamchatshoe. Tomorrow is the big day - the day we go to the airport and find out if our bags have arrived. We have all decided to wear our lucky pair of underwear. To give you an idea of how lucky we have to be. We need to have had our bags pass through customs in Vladivostok WITHOUT US and then get put on a plane from another airline WITHOUT US and then be able to walk up to baggage claim in Kamchatka and say, "Yeah, really those are ours but we do not have any baggage claim tickets because they came here WITHOUT US."

If you would like to support us, please wear your luckiest pair of underwear on Sunday, April 6th. (It doesn't really matter if we are 16 hours ahead, its the union against the machine, or something, that is important.)

O' Canada

2008-04-02T03:52:00.000-07:00

Day one of our journey and already it has proved to be exciting. It seems that our luggage did not make it on the flight to Korea and is expected to arrive in 24 hours (about 8 hours after we fly out for Vladivostok). Don't worry, we have been assured that it is 'somewhere in the world' and can be tracked. So, after travelling for roughly 15 hours we spent 2.5 hours in Air Canada's Korea office trying to figure out how to get our baggage to Petropavlovsk sometime before the end of April. We decided to travel on as scheduled sans luggage. Our hope if that our luggage will arrive in Korea tomorrow in the early evening, then go on to Vladivostok on Korea Air where it will be flown via Vladivostok Air to Petropavlovsk 2 days after we arrive, or April 6th - at least this is how we left it with Air Canada this evening.

I have to say Air Canada was very helpful and even kind enough to allow us to call our contacts in Russia to get some guidance. In doing so, we learned it has been unseasonable warm and the snow is melting. Hmmmmm. This is supposed to be a backcountry ski trip.... If nothing else, we decided we would just take to drinking.

Last Minute Details

2008-03-31T13:40:00.000-07:00

Driving around like maniacs today making last minute purchases, tending to bank accounts, making final decisions on gear and arguing about whether we will be able to purchase nuts and parmeasan cheese in Petropavlovsk - we are in the throws of pre-trip chaos. (The photos: Gear worksheet and the gear with McGyver.) A quick check of http://www.weather.com/ shows Yelizovo (near Petropavlovsk) is expecting snow next week and temps are hovering at 40 degrees. This causes me more stress and calls into question my packing strategy and my worse case scenario for staying warm - jumping in the sleeping bag.

I did make time to enjoy a few last minute luxury pursuits like a long, hot shower, a blow dryer and a soy latte. Of course, this led back to our debate on what exactly we can expect of Petropavlovsk. Scott thinks I will be surprised at the sparsity of the place. I counter that we will not lack for anything - a port city with a population of 200,000 will provide us with more than enough supplies for our ski objectives and probably some amazing delights we can't even imagine. Although, I do admit I would love to be free of my soy latte addiction and secretly hope we do not happen upon anything palatable in the nature of coffee.

Despite our minor arguments and debates, Scott and I travel well together and we are excited to actually get on the plane, look at each other and exclaim, "we're on va-ca-tion, we're on va-ca-tion" while stupidly 'stirring the pot.'

Biking with the girls.

2008-03-29T10:44:00.000-07:00

Had a chance to enjoy our first-of-the-season-early-morning ride with the girls this past Wednesday. We took our chances on Grout Bay and found the trail mostly clear with long sections where we had to hike-a-bike through snow. Last year’s fire burned much of the foliage and a good deal of the trail is now more exposed. It's in good shape and we weren’t the first to ride it this year. Check out the fire devastation in the photo. There is also a fair amount of water this year and I would even venture to say some of the creeks had rapids.

I love biking with the girls. It’s really cool to hang out with some awesome women riders who don’t mind getting a little dirty and beat up before the day begins. Box Back!

The Russian Banya and Vodka

2008-03-26T18:28:00.001-07:00

The Banya, or Russian steam bath, was the one thing I truly missed when I returned from Siberia the last time. We were so infatuated with this tradition we made plans to build our own Russian-style Banya at home.

The Banya’s we experienced were the simplest of designs: A stove was used to heat stones and water. Water was poured over the stones to create the warmth and humidity but not a huge amount of steam. Cold water was available and we used it to mix with the hot water to find a comfortable temperature for washing. Getting a good sweat first before washing was preferable. Whilst you can go it alone in the Banya, it is much easier and more fun to have a buddy along to help in pouring the water over your head and for rinsing. Wood slat floors allowed the used water to soak into the ground. The Banya seemed to always be located adjacent to a garden.

One other thing: We used white birch branches with the leaves left on to beat each other because it was said to stimulate circulation. The leaves did take the sting away of from being hit by a raw branch.

This trip we are hoping to visit a commercial banya while in Petropavolsk. I have read you alternate between the heat and steam of the sauna – getting a good sweat on – and a shower or bath of cold water, or even a naked roll in the snow. I’ve also read about a style of Banya used by mountaineers known as a Hike Banya. Picture a tent filled with a pile of rocks spaced so there is a fire within them. Once the rocks are heated, water is poured over them to produce steam and, I suspect, put the fire out. I can picture using a Mountain Hardwear Kiva tent. That could be very cool.

Ahhh and then there is Vodka. I am not much of a shot drinker but there is something about opening a bottle of Russian-made Vodka and chasing shots with a bit of bread and smoked fish. Actually, the way it goes is toast to something, eat a chunk of bread, drink and follow it down with a bite of smoked fish. At least that is the way a father and son from Ekaterineburg showed us how to do it.

The photo above was taken in Khuzir - a tourist town on Olkon Island. The Banya is in the far back of the garden.

Yoga, Spinning, Packing and Patrolling

2008-03-25T17:32:00.000-07:00

This week my life is pretty much about yoga, spinning, packing and patrolling. Last day of patrol was today. Yoga and spinning will end soon and my packing deadline is fast approaching.

It’s hard to leave. When the final days come and the trip becomes more of realty then a plan, there is this point where I think “it is way more difficult to go than it is to stay.” The point at which I am so exhausted from tying up loose ends that I just want to sit and relax rather than finish figuring out what truly will be a necessity in Russia. And, unfortunately, it is also the time I start to freak out and think about the dangers of travel. What if I get sick? Hurt? Maimed?

No doublt there are objective hazards we could face on this expedition. Perhaps our number one hazard is the remoteness of our backcountry ski objectives. Other hazards include weather, avalanches, route-finding, river crossings, grizzly bears, grizzly bear hunters, and Russian military detainment and interrogation. From what we can tell weather should be similar to conditions found in south central Alaska, with perhaps more marine influence. We hope to find stable, spring snow conditions but realize we will be climbing and skiing volcanoes and they tend to have constant 30-40 degree slopes for thousands of feet – prime avalanche terrain. Navigating will be challenging – we can’t bring a GPS into Russia. River crossings may be different from the time we enter to the time we exit an area. We were told we could use a ‘puffed’ boat (we assumed this to mean a boat we blow up) or vodka as a bribe to locals with boats. Grizzly bears will be waking from hibernation. The largest in the world, Kamchatka bears – we believe - should not be a threat and may even be scared of us because of over-hunting. Grizzly bear hunters are an unknown but April is their season. Finally, we have heard other expeditions have been detained for not having proper papers. We think we have the proper permissions...

But, these are not the things to focus on, right? So as the days drift by – 7 more until we leave – I am not going to think about mitigating risks but rather the cool reality that once again we are fortunate enough to experience Siberia's beauty and incredible culture.

“Aggressive hospitality, international conversation and sweet Russian vodka.”

2008-03-21T17:15:00.000-07:00

This was articulated to me late one evening on the shores of Central Siberia’s Lake Baikal. I was asleep in my tent when three drunken kayakers approached. A bit hazy myself from the similarly sweet Georgian wine I had consumed, I was barely awake and able to respond. It was only the next morning when I discovered their butt prints not five inches from my head that I realized we had missed a terrific opportunity. So, with this I pledge not to turn down such aggressive hospitality on my upcoming trip back to Siberia. This time we head to the Kamchatka Peninsula for some backcountry skiing and touring and we leave in 10 days.

Kamchatka is a fascinating destination. Known as the land of fire and ice – it is a narrow peninsula separating the Pacific Ocean from the Sea of Okhotsk. Most interesting, it has only been open to foreigners in recent years. Geographically remote, the coastline has seen little development. Even in Russia’s Far East, backcountry skiing is gaining popularity. This is particularly cool since there is interest to use the sport to facilitate the development of a sustainable, eco-adventure-driven economy where the footprint left behind is minimal and a way better alternative than logging and mining. Plus, people attracted to backcountry skiing tend toward experiencing local culture at its most authentic level and would be more likely to support a regional economy by utilizing local lodging, transportation, and guide services.

Okay, jumping off the soap box for now.

An Icon

2008-03-20T16:24:00.000-07:00

Why Airstream Nomad? Airstream represents a long tradition of aesthetic design, and Nomad defines a carefree yet deeply present lifestyle. For me the two together symbolize a visual life by design. Well, a visual life by design five years in the making. In short the last five years go something like this: Quit corporate job in Big City. Move to small mountain town. Took lame, low-paying professional job in small mountain town. Quit lame job. Started own business with a partner. Sold business to partner. Commuted to corporate gig in Big City. Quit corporate gig. Gave up, stopped fighting and followed passion - became a freelance writer and photographer. Ahhhhhhh. Well, sort of, I also ski patrol part-time.