14er Report: Hiking Grays Peak

Earlier this month my friend Chelsea and I summitted Grays Peak, one of Colorado’s most popular Fourteeners, or a mountain rising over 14,000 feet.

Colorado has anywhere from 52 to 58 such peaks, depending on who you ask. Certain criteria determine what constitutes as a 14er. Obviously, criteria #1 is a peak must exceed 14,000 feet…BUT a 14er point must also “rise at least 300 feet above the saddle that connects it to the nearest 14er peak (if another exists nearby),” according to www.colorado.com. Take your pick!

Hmmm, so how many 14ers are there really?

I’ve hiked several 14ers before—Bierstadt, Oxford and Belford, and the four mountains known collectively as DECAMERON—but it’s been a few years since I hiked my last one. Chelsea has climbed 14ers as well, and it was her suggestion we climb at least one this summer.

For anyone interested in climbing a 14er, know that you must summit well before noon, to avoid lightning from afternoon thunderstorms. Attempting a 14er entails being awake and on the road before the sun is up. For convenience and time, Chelsea and I chose the extremely popular Grays and Torreys peaks for their accessibility on I-70. Connected by a saddle, you can easily “bag” both mountains in a day; G and T are often the first 14ers for lots of folks. Categorized as Class 2 peaks, the main trail is steep but not technical, or entails no real climbing or scrambling. For those who have the experience and proper gear, jagged Kelso Ridge along the northeastern flank of Torreys is your option.

Chelsea and I arrived at the trailhead around 7 AM. Due to the peaks’ proximity to Denver and the Front Range urban corridor, G and T are heavily trafficked 14ers; don’t expect any true wilderness solitude. To avoid the thickest crowds, go on a week day if possible. Chelsea and I went on a Monday, and while there were plenty of folks, it was nothing like when I climbed Bierstadt (on a Saturday, to be fair), a never ending line of folks akin to a pilgrimage.

The Grays Peak National Recreation Trail is an out and back route, 8 miles round trip, with a 3000 ft. ascent. The trail starts just a little below tree line. From the trailhead the path winds southwest along a narrow alpine valley. No route finding is required due to the high traffic, and how visible the trail zig zags along the northeastern face of Grays. The trail gains altitude gradually for the first 2 miles or so, before the steeper ascent begins. Partially up Grays the trail forks, so you have the choice of summiting Torreys first, then crossing the .75 mile saddle to top Grays, or vice versa. Chelsea and I chose to ascend Grays.

The sun had not yet crested the mountains, but already a few folks who had summitted G and T passed us on their way back to the trailhead. Chelsea and I took our time, taking pics and just marveling at the scenery. For being such a popular trail, I was surprised, and relieved, by how pristine the surroundings looked; I didn’t observe any visible trash or vandalism.

Both of us having grown up in Colorado, being up at elevation normally doesn’t give us any problems. However, the affects of less oxygen the higher you go can lead to altitude sickness for some. Side effects: nausea, headache, mental disorientation, physical weakness, and in serious cases, swelling of the brain. Altitude sickness is fickle as some folks, with little acclimatization, can climb a 14er with no problem. Others, despite their fitness level or being a Colorado local, can fall ill. First off, be sure to bring plenty of water and snacks, wear sunscreen and a hat: at higher altitudes you dehydrate much faster. If you begin to feel the affects of altitude sickness, turning back is the best option. Listen to your body.

Can you spot the pika? 🙂

As we continued our climb, we saw and heard pikas, extremely adorable little mammals that are closely related to rabbits. As the trail became steeper, we viewed several mountain goats just off the trail. As neat as it is to see these animals up close, it is rather disheartening in how tame these creatures are, used to constant human presence in the area. No doubt some folks are feeding them, hence their entirely casual demeanor; they showed zero fear or aversion to us. 🙁 Sad. So much for wildlife being wild…

We gained the top of Grays around 10:30 AM. Throughout the ascent we kept a watchful eye on the atmosphere, for any hints of impending thunderstorms. Lucky for us, the sky was clear, save for solitary fast moving cottonball clouds.

Almost to the top! Soaking in those views. 🙂

As expected, views from a 14er never disappoint. Visible to the southeast is the unmistakable profile of fellow 14er Pikes Peak, while to the west one can just barely make out Mt. Holy Cross. They were several dozen folks on Grays’ mountaintop, taking pics and enjoying snacks. It was cool up top with a slight breeze but no gale force winds; I honestly thought it’d be much cooler. The night before I remembered to bring paper and sharpie, so I could write a sign for us to proclaim our summitting of 14, 270 ft. 🙂

We did it! It was after the climb I realized there is no apostrophe in Grays…
Looking south from the top of Grays.
Mt. Holy Cross is just right of center.
My horse goes where I go!

After a few more minutes on the crest, we began our descent. We decided to save Torreys for another day, so we could hike along with more friends; another adventure to look forward to! 🙂 Descending was easy, the sky remained clear, and the sun had warmed the alpine valley below.

As Chelsea and approached the trailhead, I heard someone behind us calling my name. Turning around, I saw my cousin Nate and his friend running down the trail, having just climbed and descended Torreys via Kelso Ridge. I’d told Chelsea how my cousins Nate and Doug love to climb G and T and have done so multiple times…and sure enough, here was one of them. 🙂 Nate, it was great to see you!

Nice surprise! Bumped into my cuz Nate on the way back down the mountain.

In fact, it was Nate who took me snowshoeing in December 2016 up Forest Road 189, the dirt road that leads to the trailhead. We parked at the lot just off Highway exit 221, and winded our way a few miles up the snow packed road. Unlike summer, we only saw a few folks out. The views were incredible, and if you’re looking for solitude, winter is the time to go check out this area. If you were wondering: G and T can be summitted in winter IF you have the proper gear (i.e., ice axe, spikes) AND experience.

Old mining buildings on the road near the trailhead.

Chelsea and I arrived back at my car just before 1 PM, and for lunch we headed to Dillon. At Red Mountain Grill we both feasted on taco salads, before heading home. Sure, I felt a little tired, but honestly, afterwards I felt pretty good. I wasn’t exhausted at all, like I was after climbing Belford and Oxford. Running has certainly improved my endurance and lung capacity, so this 14er did not feel strenuous to me or Chelsea, who is quite the dedicated runner as well, and a true Colorado mountain girl. 🙂 For those interested in hiking their first 14er, I recommend Grays. The trail is well marked and no scrambling is involved. As stated earlier, you won’t find any true solitude at these peaks, but the views and experience are worth the trek. 🙂

Getting There: From Denver, head west on Interstate 70 for 53 miles, then take the Bakerville Exit, #221. A four mile dirt road, Forest Road 189, winds south to the trailhead. This road is pretty steep and especially rough on low clearance vehicles; I was glad I took my Jeep Wrangler. Parking at the trailhead fills up fast and early! I parked on the side of the road about a quarter mile from the main parking area. Some folks choose to park at the dirt lot just off the exit and hike in from there. The earlier you get there, the less hassle and less crowds.

~LMC

Your fellow Reader, Runner, Writer. 🙂

Book Review: DEEP CREEK: Finding Hope in the High Country by Pam Houston

How do you cope, how do you heal, when those who should love and protect you the most, utterly, miserably fail in their duty?

For writer Pam Houston, hope, healing and purpose is found in the great outdoors, and no better place than her ranch in the Colorado Rockies. Beloved author of the short story collection Cowboys Are My Weakness, Houston lays bare her life, loves, and most importantly, the land that has influenced, and continues to shape, herself—and her connection to the outdoor world. This memoir, a series of interconnected essays, reflects on a myriad of subjects: global travels, wildfires, ranch upkeep, dysfunctional families, etc., all while tying back to the central theme of landscape and nature.

Glancing out her kitchen window at the 12,000 ft. peaks surrounding her home, Houston reflects back on her 31 year old self—newly acclaimed author with some money to show for it—searching for a place to call home. Traveling across the American West, she arrives at the tiny former mining town of Creede, set among the striking and isolated San Juan Mountains. Forging connections with hard working locals, Houston buys the 120 acre Pinckley Ranch…putting just 5% down. Call her crazy or just plumb determined, Houston’s passion for the outdoors—in her youth she served as a river rafting and sheep hunting guide—serve as the compass of her life. Through sheer tenacity and constant travels abroad to teach and write, Houston does whatever it takes to make the ranch truly hers.

Houston’s emotionally charged first essay examines the lives of her parents—her dancer/ actress mother, her charismatic father—then plunges into the agony of revealing the horrific physical, mental, and sexual abuse perpetrated by them. As she grapples with her mother’s more recent death, she comes to terms that when she died, “I was freed from the terrible hope that she might one day actually throw herself between me and my father[:]” the same man who routinely raped his own daughter. Experiencing such severe neglect, Houston’s drive to “go out and love the earth” is suddenly all the more understood, and poignant: “[T]he greater physical world had always had an uncanny way of looking after me,” she explains.

Continuing her narrative in the essays, she details never ending ranch chores, her travels to Greenland and Patagonia, to further reflecting how her past led her to seek comfort and healing in the natural world: “I found my way to this ranch, this place where I protect and am protected by animals, […] where nature controls how I spend my days and how I spend my life.” Where Houston’s upbringing failed, she finds peace in caring for the plethora of horses, dogs, sheep, etc., under her care. The land allows her to realize that “I could make my own life […] I realized I could be the cowboy,” by far one of the best phases in the book.

The work loses some punch in the essay examining the history and legal documents of the ranch, the piece coming off more academic and less literary, but still emphasizes Houston’s enthusiasm and reverence for the ranch. Irony comes to play when, about to make the last payment on the ranch, several wildfires threaten to destroy her beloved home. All while being abroad to teach, she confronts her fears as she constantly checks condition updates. Once give the clear to return home, her relief is palpable, and ranch routine resumes once more: feeding, cleaning, birthing and letting animals go, all of which are examined in smaller vignettes dispersed throughout the book. Titled “Ranch Almanac” these pieces are a refreshing break from the intense recollections of the essays, while allowing Houston’s humor to shine through. A snippet from the vignette “Donkey Chasing:” “And when I tell you the dog porch was covered in donkey shit […]” As Houston’s work makes abundantly clear, such bizarre episodes are part and parcel of ranch life.

Abuse, wildfires, sub zero weather, unscrupulous ranchsitters (Houston lost a sheep, sacrificed by a youth), animal euthanasia, climate change visible on her own property: Houston is more than a survivor. She is a nurturer. She cares for the land, her animals, her friends, and her self. Lamenting the ever growing disconnect between man and nature, and the effects of climate change, she writes, “We are all dying, and because of us, so is the earth. That’s the most terrible, the most painful of […] self-torturing thoughts.” A torturous thought indeed, so much so that in 2018 Houston signed documents to place the ranch in an environmental land trust. With decades of ranching experience to ensuring the preservation of the land into the future, Houston continues to be the cowboy: taking control of her life when once she was powerless, to caring for all creatures, to finding happiness and hope out of despair. If ever there was a role model on living the life you want, Houston is our guide, and Deep Creek our manual of inspiration.

~LMC

Happy Global Running Day!

“Bid me run and I will strive with things impossible.” William Shakespeare, from the play Julius Caesar, Act 2, Scene 1

Running is incredible.

Take it from a runner to say this. But it is true. I mean it. I am eternally grateful to this sport and all it has provided me. I’ve been a lifelong athlete—tennis player, mountain biker, gym rat, hiker—but running holds a special place in my soul. For the longest time, I always considered myself a tennis player (and I still am), but when I caught the running bug, I was overjoyed. The first time I ran three miles—November 18, 2010—I was not only amazed I had done it, but more impressed and excited with the possibilities of what my body could, and CAN, do. If you had told my high school self that one day I would A) like running and, B ) like it enough to run almost daily, and C) be so enamored of it to run marathons, I would have laughed in your face. I would not have believed all this. But lo and behold, here I am. Clad in running shorts, running shoes on my feet. App on my phone that keeps track of my mileage, Fitbit on my wrist. Researching my next race: which one? Better yet: which destination? Running in and of itself has, and continues to be a journey: physically, mentally, and emotionally. Running served as the sport, the transition, when I stepped away from competitive tennis play. From six to 20, tennis was my life. I knew I could not, would not ever cease to be an athlete, to be athletic, and running served as the new stepping stone. 2014 was my running year, averaging 40 miles a week for several months. Like clockwork, I was looping around Orchard, 12th, North, and 7th around my alma mater, Colorado Mesa University. Up to six days a week, there I was, still in my tennis gear, literally running around campus and beyond. To North Desert, the wide open expanse beyond town, to the popular mountain bike trails of Tabeguache. To Barcelona, Spain, running up Las Ramblas and to La Sagrada Familia…and of course, running in the shadow and slopes of my beloved foothills. To my dying day, many of my happiest memories will be of running in Colorado’s great outdoors—mountains, deserts, foothills. My terrain, my space, my place, where running allows me to explore and find solitude.

Running has given me both physical and mental fortitude. It provides discipline, and adventure. But best of all, running has given to me the best of friends, a support crew. We runners have seen, and felt, a lot. We know what it is to suffer; running has taught us that. From the physical pain of blisters, aches, sprains, injuries, to mental depletion, stemming from doubt, anger, fear of failure, running brings humility and perspective. I am grateful for the wonderful, positive people I have come to know and call friends, through running. Running has and will always be there, through the highs and lows, the ebb and flow that is life. We who run choose not to run away from challenges and obstacles, but to embrace them, and emerge stronger. So yes, bid us all run, and we will strive through the impossible.

~LMC

What I’ve Been Reading: Fiction

I know I haven’t posted a book review in a bit, but that does not mean I haven’t been reading: quite the contrary in fact. Here are my thoughts on several fiction books I have read recently.

Girls on Fire by Robin Wasserman

1991 small town Pennsylvania: the town of Battle Creek is reeling from the recent suicide of its star high school basketball player. As residents wonder why, readers meet the bright but dorky high schooler Hannah Dexter, and the rebellious, plaid wearing, Nirvana listening Lacey Champlain. Hannah is desperate to belong someplace among her peers, when Lacey swoops in, renames her new friend Dex, and remakes the girl in her own image. Soon the two are raising hell, breaking rules, Dex feeling confidence she never knew. Told in alternating perspectives from both Dex and Lacey, the character development in this work is utterly superb, the best I have read in a while. Hannah’s transformation from an unremarkable girl into the cocky Dex is believable, while Lacey merits a novel of her own. Sexy, dark, mysterious, a force of nature, picture the character Nancy from the 1996 cult classic The Craft, wearing grungy plaid, and you got her. The novel doesn’t shy from portraying the duo experimenting with drugs, sex, violence, and death: of the last three there is plenty. By the novel’s end, the denouement is somewhat cliché and expected, but for how real the characters feel, and all the early 90s cultural references, the work stands tall. For a dark, twisted tale of female friendship gone horrendously wrong, Girls on Fire is for you.

Girls on Fire by Robin Wasserman, Harper Collins, 2016, 357 pages.

Frida by Bárbara Mujica

A fictionalized biography about the famed Mexican artista, Frida is narrated in first person by Frida’s younger sister, Cristina Kahlo. Cristina starts from the very beginning, from how Frida overcame polio in childhood, and later, a tragic accident that would leave her permanently disabled. She recounts how Frida’s bright, rebellious personality both fascinates and repels her: Frida breaking gender barriers by crossdressing, bragging of her conquests with women, and pursuing the famed muralist Diego Rivera, whom she would marry. Cristina tries to align with the norm of a pious Mexican woman—homemaker, mother—but life proves otherwise, after a failed marriage, and an affair with none other than Frida’s own husband. Set against an intense tapestry of the Mexican Revolution, el mexicanismo movement, communism, Trotsky—and the soap opera relationship between Frida and Diego—Cristina witnesses Frida become a star in her own lifetime. But as stars rise, so they must fall, and Cristina witness her free spirited sister, talented artist and ardent communist, decline into debilitating alcohol and drug abuse. Told in language both lyrical and crass, humorous and heartbreaking, always colorful, Cristina’s awe, shock, anger, and ultimately, love for her extraordinary sister is evident: she makes Frida come alive. Just as Frida painted auto-retratos (self-portraits), Mujica’s Cristina paints a portrait of the famed artist through prose. A thoroughly enjoying novel to read.

Frida by Bárbara Mujica, Plume, 2001, 366 pages.

Finding Hattie by Sally Warner

Inspired by, and featuring several actual journal entries by the author’s great grandmother, Warner takes readers back into the late Victorian era. Fourteen year old Hattie Knowlton is all alone, a true orphan after losing her little brother. Going to live with her wealthy aunt and uncle, she feels very much out of place. Her beautiful, spoiled cousin Sophie tries to take the lonely girl under her wing while attending Miss Bulkley’s Seminary for Young Ladies, but it’s when Hattie meets Fannie Macintosh, from the Wild West, that Hattie finds true friendship. A warm, engaging tale, Warner succeeds in conveying the rampant prudery and classism of the era. Fannie Macintosh is a character who deserves her own novel: her gumption and wit are a refreshing contrast against the staid upper class girls. While Warner includes several excerpts from Hattie’s diary, I sincerely wish she had included more material. The relationship between Hattie and Fannie could be introduced sooner, as the ending is rather abrupt: I was so invested in the characters that I was sad when the novel ended. Best suited for middle-grade readers, Finding Hattie provides an extraordinary insight into the Victorian era, and of the quiet resilience of a young girl trying to find her place in the world.

Finding Hattie by Sally Warner, Harper Collins, 2001, 227 pages.

The Uninvited by Cat Winters

I absolutely loved Winters’ debut novel In the Shadow of Blackbirds, a gothic historical fiction/ paranormal novel, and Winters returns to these themes in this novel. Set in 1918 small town Illinois, the world is coming apart: the Great War rages as the Spanish Flu kills without mercy. Twenty-five year old Ivy Rowan, recently recovered from the flu, abruptly leaves home when she learns her father and brother have murdered a local German resident. Ivy, still reeling from her older brother’s death in the war, has the frightening gift—or curse—of seeing the “uninvited,” spirits of loved ones, whose appearances always mark impending death. Grief stricken, Ivy takes residence downtown, where she experiences firsthand the combined effects of the flu and prevalent xenophobia that drove the murder to occur: along with a slew of sightings of the dead. This novel is extremely fast-paced, almost too much so, but it helps to convey both the physical and psychological chaos of both wartime and simultaneous epidemic. Desperate to make amends, Ivy ends up falling for the younger brother of the slain German—an act which brings about consequences that will echo to the grave. While the work doesn’t have quite the same emotional impact or shockers as Blackbirds, fans of paranormal historical fiction won’t want to miss this one.

The Uninvited by Cat Winters, William Morrow Press, 2015, 356 pages.

The Queen’s Mistake: In the Court of Henry VIII by Diane Haeger

Many readers already know the story of Catherine Howard, fifth (doomed) wife of King Henry VIII: a teenaged girl plucked from an impoverished titled family, made queen, only to be charged with adultery and sent to death 18 months later. With such a dark demise, Catherine has been portrayed as either a giggling wench, innocent victim, a doomed romantic. Haeger portrays Catherine as a kind girl, neglected by her own family, shut away in a dreary country estate. To counter boredom, Catherine becomes promiscuous: no different from her fellow female peers. Unfortunately for her, her last name and beauty soon catch the attention of the old, ill tempered king, and Catherine’s family are all too glad to offer up the girl. Torn between her true love, courtier Thomas Culpeper, and fealty to her family and the glory of being Queen of England, Catherine tries to inhabit both roles—at the expense of her life. Haeger’s novel is not the most revelatory or eye opening fiction regarding Henry VIII’s fifth wife, but it certainly portrays Catherine in a sympathetic light, a refreshing take from Catherine as a conniving and malicious cuckhold of previous works. The novel can read a little clunky or redundant in its language, but if you love anything Tudor, pick up this book.

The Queen’s Mistake: In the Court of Henry VIII by Diane Haeger, New American Library, 2009, 407 pages.

Anne Boleyn: A King’s Obsession by Alison Weir

After reading royal biographer and historian Alison Weir’s Innocent Traitor, a novel about the doomed Lady Jane Grey, I eagerly anticipated more historical fiction from her. This novel, second installment of the Six Tudor Queens series, does not disappoint. Readers meet Anne Boleyn, King Henry VIII’s second wife, and follow her incredible ascent from a humble nobleman’s daughter to eventually Queen of England. Weir’s Anne is a smart, passionate woman, introduced to and enlightened by proto-feminist characters and works, respectively Archduchess Margaret of Austria, and the writings of Christine de Pizan: a very refreshing point, something I have not seen in other fictional works about Anne. Armed with such progressive ideas for her times, Anne exercises self agency, trying her best to not sacrifice her freedom, nor her honor, to any man. Not any easy task to be had, as her own sister is assaulted multiple times—by multiple kings—Anne is angry at the hypocrisy of “courtly love” and the reality of court life. Initially avoiding King Henry’s attentions, the allure of securing power, wealth, and an heir for family and kingdom prove to be too much. Weir’s steady build up on Anne’s gradual ascent to power may seem long, even tedious, but one must remember Anne kept Henry interested for six whole years, the king going so far as to break away from the Pope to secure his eventual marriage to her. What I do find interesting is the novel is somewhat vague on the events, and overall impact, of the English Reformation, the repercussions of which are still felt today. Once queen, Anne transforms into an overly ambitious and sometimes outright cruel sovereign, the consequences of which echo all too quickly. As long as her ascent to power was, her subsequent fall is swift, the novel moving at sudden rapid pace. Weir succeeds in bringing Anne’s suppressed fears to grim reality, as King and countrymen turn against and seek to rid her. Falsely accused of adultery, witchcraft, and incest, Anne boldly defends herself but it is not enough. Anne’s fears are palpable, and Weir does not shy in portraying her protagonist’s brutal final moments on the scaffold: the ending had my heart racing. For Tudor-philes and lovers of historical fiction, A King’s Obsession is a royal winner.

Anne Boleyn: A King’s Obsession: A Novel by Alison Weir, Ballantine Books, 2018, 574 pages.

Pollyana by Eleanor H. Porter

I’ve read abridged editions of this 1913 classic, and love the 1960 film of the same name, so I decided it was time to read the original work. Porter’s Pollyana turns out to be as cheerful, obsessively glad as can be, almost to the point of cloying. The storyline itself isn’t new at all: orphaned girl with good heart is sent to live with dreary, dull relative(s). With time, the girl changes everyone’s lives for the better. Pollyana at first glance seems one dimensional, playing her “Glad Game” of always looking on the bright side; the novel lacks any further true character development. But Pollyana’s message is surprisingly strong, simple, and often overlooked: Be happy. Live life. Written just over a century ago, the novel carries strong overtones of the all Victorian “can do” and “duty” attitudes: themes that are still easily relevant, and arguably much needed today. In this age of instant information and social media, of curating an image, “Generation Me,” Pollyana is genuine. She is happiness and makes happiness: happy not for the sake of herself, but for the happiness of others. She turns Aunt Polly from an aloof individual to someone who can, and is, able to fall in love again. Pollyana helps mentor the orphan Jimmy, and eventually helps him find a forever home. And in her own hour of trial, Pollyana is human in that she doubts her own perspective…but with the “gladness” she has given others, hope and happiness is returned back to her tenfold. Pollyana is selfless. And it comes to save her at her darkest hour. As simple (and overburdened by tropes) the novel may be, the theme of Pollyana is gold. And yes: I can honestly say I am glad that I read this classic, a positive book of a bright girl with an even brighter message.

Pollyana by Eleanor H. Porter, Aladdin Paperbacks, 2002, 292 pages.

Race Report: Grand Valley Marathon

The first weekend of this month I ran my second marathon, Grand Valley Marathon in Palisade. It was a great weekend, as I saw several of my close friends as well.

Tired but triumphant! Not my best run but I still did it. 🙂

Grand Valley Marathon is a road race that takes place at the far east end of the Grand Valley in Western Colorado. The course is an out and back route starting in downtown Palisade. Like Rim Rock Marathon , this race cruises through some of the most picturesque scenery in the state: Colorado’s wine country. Palisade contains a wealth of vineyards and lush peach, fruit, and lavender orchards that bloom in the spring: hence the race’s moniker of “Fruit and Wine 26.2.”

Before leaving for the Western Slope on Friday, race eve, my hiking buddy Jamie, whom I’d be staying with, was visiting Denver. Being both cat lovers, I suggested we visit Denver Cat Company, where, for an entry fee of $8 per person, you can sip tea and hang with, cuddle, and geek out over the 20 or so rescue cats roaming the establishment.

After hanging out for an hour and a half, I took off for Grand Junction. I stopped by Palisade first for packet pick up.

As I have with Dream Catcher Half and Rim Rock Marathon, I carbo loaded with Enzo’s spaghetti laden with marinara sauce. As Jamie was not yet back in town, I decided to do something I hadn’t done in a few years: dinner in the desert.

Pondering on how to eat spaghetti when you don’t have utensils…

After picking up my order at Enzo’s, I headed straight to North Desert via 27 1/4 Road. North Desert is the broad, open expanse of land just north of town. Under the management of BLM, the area is extremely popular for dirt biking, off-roading, 4 wheeling, etc. I drove about two or three miles in, then parked my car facing west, to watch the sunset. Giddily I pulled out my dinner, only to find I didn’t have any utensils…I made do with a brand new ball point pen. Surprisingly, it was quite effective at scooping up spaghetti. It was a beautiful, calm evening; sunsets on the Western Slope never disappoint.

I headed home once it was twilight, prepped all my race gear per normal: Leadville tank, bib, Brooks shorts, Mizuno Wave Horizon shoes, basically the same apparel I wore at Rim Rock Marathon. You can call it my good luck outfit.

The marathon started at 6:30 am, so I headed to bed around 11, and woke up around 4:30 am, super excited for race day. For breakfast I consumed 2 Clif bars and drank plenty of water, arriving at the start line around 6. The sun had not yet risen, and it was gusty and cool out. I’d been agonizing over if I should wear my racing vest, and if I should wear leggings. I ultimately decided on sticking with shorts, and wearing my vest, containing GUs and gels, over my light shell jacket.

A runner friend of mine ran the marathon last year, placing second over all. He said Grand Valley Marathon is a small, old-school race: you’re provided a chip timer to place on your shoe, with total marathon runners averaging between 12-20 folks. Sure enough, as start time approached, I noted only about a dozen folks, give or take a few, gathering at the start line. My hiking buddies Trish and Cate, who ran the half marathon that started at 7, their first ever half, came to wish me luck and cheer me on. Right before lining up, a race official talked over race rules and the course. We’d be running for 2 miles east on N. River Road which crossed the Colorado River, then make our way southwest along G Road for 2 miles. Then we would continue onto the Fruit and Wine Byway, which zig zags through the vineyards and orchards, then turn around at the 13.1 mile mark.

Course map, from Grand Valley race website, www.grandvalleymarathon.com

The marathoners and I then gathered at the intersection of 3rd and Main, and at his shout of “GO!” the race began. Whereupon I did my first racing blunder… I lead the pack for the first few miles. Oops!

From start I was running at a decent pace, nothing that felt too fast. I didn’t have my Fitbit or any watch with me, so my actual pace is all conjecture. I was amazed I was leading, for I did not feel I was exerting myself at all–a side effect of all my hill running. This marathon course is flat overall, with one climb of 700 ft. or so; nothing like Rim Rock, with nearly 2000 ft. gain and loss. I kept looking over my shoulder, seeing I had distance between myself and the next runner…Yeah, you could say I was feeling way overconfident–I was. With such a small pool of runners, I felt I’d do pretty decent in this race. Never before had I led a race, and I slowed down a bit, but not enough. Just before the hill climb, the second runner started closing in behind me. He passed me on the hill, which didn’t bother me too much. Once back on the flat, I pulled back a bit, but it was too little too late. I had a new problem: I was overhydrated, and kept having to stop by several aid stations, starting at mile 7. And with every stop, someone passed me. 🙁

Despite my annoying bladder, I was still feeling good when I reached the turnaround point at 13.1 miles. Looking at my phone, I noted that, even with potty breaks, I ran this distance in 2 hours 4 minutes: 5 minutes faster than my time at Dream Catcher Half. “You’re doing great!” exclaimed one of the race volunteers. “You’re second place female overall.” So, yeah, I was still feeling pretty confident I’d run this course–flat, with fewer runners—faster than Rim Rock.

It was a beautiful morning, and by now the sun had been up for well over an hour. Turning around to race eastward, you face the looming mass of Grand Mesa, and the stretch of Book Cliffs along I-70. The wine vineyards and peach orchards were healthy and blooming, and a few locals had gathered along the course to cheer us runners on. Otherwise, the course was very quiet, very peaceful.

Heading back to Palisade, approx. mile 17. Mt. Garfield is the landmark in the background.
The course passes by Alida’s Fruits: lovely place full of local goodies, such as peaches, jams, jellies, etc.

Unfortunately, my bladder continued to nag me, and my left knee began to whine around mile 16, a whole 4 miles earlier than it did at Rim Rock. By this point another female had passed me, so I was now in third. By mile 18, I had to walk a bit, for my left knee was stiff as a board. So lesson learned: don’t start off too fast! Duh! As I run primarily hills, this means I tend to run pretty snappy on flat terrain, sometimes to my detriment. Training wise for this race, I did include more flat work in weekly runs, but obviously not quite enough. Looking at the time as I continued on, I knew I’d be unable to achieve my (overly ambitious) finish time of 4.5 hours or under. Now I adjusted to finishing at under 5 hours. Starting at mile 19, I was all glorified walk/ run… yeah. Mentally, I was cursing at both my bladder and knee. My heart was just fine; the “engine” was running smooth but my mechanics were off this race. 🙁

Approaching the finish line. Photo courtesy of Yoli H.

At 5 hours 14 minutes, I finally crossed the finish line–a full 20 minutes slower than Rim Rock. Ouch. I’ll admit I was feeling a little disappointed as I approached the finish. But immediately upon seeing, and hearing, my friends Jamie (who drove back that same morning!), Yoli, Trish, Kale, and Cate cheer me on, I felt victorious and extremely grateful. 🙂 Without a doubt, I have THE BEST support crew.

I did it! Kale is at the far right cheering me on. 🙂 Photo courtesy of Jamie C.
Photo courtesy of Trish W.
Go Trish, Kale, and Cate! 🙂 Photo courtesy of Yoli. H.

Raising my arms in triumph, I immediately slowed to a walk. A race official placed a finisher’s medal around my neck, and removed my chip timer. Hobbling to the side, Jamie helped me remove my race vest; I was so tired the simplest tasks were difficult. We sat by the snack table run by race volunteers, where I greedily munched on trail mix. I caught up with Trish, Cate, and Kale, who all did great in their first half and 10k, respectively. 🙂 Later that evening I went with Jamie and Yoli to Ale House in Grand Junction. I feasted on fish tacos, and for dessert, fruit parfait.

Yum!

The next day, Jamie and I attended the bridal shower of her friend, Sabrina. Held in the wide open desert by Fruita, it was the perfect way to cap off a great, momentous weekend.

Me, Sabrina, and Jamie. Photo courtesy of Jamie C.

If you’re a marathoner or avid runner, I highly recommend any of the Grand Valley races. For the spectacular scenery alone, it is absolutely worth it. And if you especially dislike big, crowded races, then this race is certainly for you. Despite not reaching my goal time, I still thoroughly enjoyed this race. Obviously, lesson learned: don’t start off too fast! Flat courses can be deceptive…pace yourself. But to be fair to myself, however, this is only my second marathon, so I’m still learning, maturing as a runner. Grand Valley Marathon truly is a little known secret of a race, which makes it special. Plus, you can feel good in that the Grand Valley race series gives back to the community as it is a fundraiser for Palisade’s unique Fruit and Wine Byway, a true Colorado gem.

~LMC

*As always, I would like to thank my friends Jamie, Yoli, Cate, and Trish for graciously contributing your photos to this post 😀. Love you ladies!

Green Day’s 21st Century Breakdown Turns 10 Today

Ten years ago today, American band Green Day officially released their eighth studio album 21st Century Breakdown. My favorite Green Day album, I still enjoy listening to this particular work a decade later.

A lot of you already know I am a die hard David Bowie fan. I am also a Green Day fan as well. And while my love for them doesn’t quite match my love (read: obsession) for Bowie, if you knew my high school self, you would know I loved, and still love, this band.

I first got into Green Day when their highly acclaimed album, American Idiot, was released in September 2004. I was in 7th grade, the emo and iPod era, and remember just how HUGE that album was. Boys were imitating vocalist Billie Joe Armstrong’s look of all black wardrobe, messy hair, and guy liner. Girls wore Green Day band shirts, and you could overhear the album blasting on tinny earbuds. I remember purchasing a few songs on my iPod Nano, the songs “Boulevard of Broken Dreams,” and “Wake Me Up When September Ends,” being my favorites. In fact, the latter song served as my alarm on my iHome during my middle and high school days.

Once in high school, I started listening to other Green Day songs. My favorite pre tennis match pump up songs were “Welcome to Paradise” and “Brain Stew”. Keep in mind: these songs were already more than a decade old when I truly discovered them; Gen X grew up listening to these early songs and albums.

As much I liked American Idiot, I was ecstatic when Green Day released the single “Know Your Enemy,” in April 2009, to herald their latest album. 21st Century Breakdown is my album, from my era, a contemporary work. I remember watching the “Know Your Enemy” music video on YouTube, and counting down the days till May 15, the official release date. That day happened to be seniors’ last day at my high school. A junior, I distinctly remember standing above the commons, watching the seniors congregate in a mass of school papers flung everywhere, chanting, yelling. Gripping the balcony rail, anxiously tapping my foot, I muttered over and over, “One more year, one more year…”

The timing of the album’s release was poignant. Listening to it then, and even now, I knew that 21st Century Breakdown was, and is ,the soundtrack of my youth, of my teenaged self, my 17th year, my 17th summer. Society makes a big fuss about being 17. Oh to be 17 again…Yes. I get it. I loved being 17. I miss it. I remember purchasing the album shortly afterward, and listening to, memorizing, each track. Each song is so damn good, that I’m hard pressed to say that there’s any tracks where I hit the “Next” button.

And say what you will about Green Day selling out, gone commercial, gone POP instead of punk. I don’t care. You can’t deny that vocalist-guitarist Billie Joe Armstrong, bassist Mike Dirnt, and drummer Tre Cool are all such incredibly talented musicians. The songwriting, the lyrics, the hooks, the melodies: Green Day brings it all on this album. After the gigantic success of American Idiot, fans and critics wondered if Green Day could ever, or even desired, to top or match that success. Now, I’m no music critic, but 21st Century Breakdown is certainly no let down; in my opinion, the work matches the creativity and quality of its predecessor. Sectioned into three acts, the album’s theme, reflected through its title, centers on the bourgeoning hopes, fears, and anxiety that comes with the dawn of a new century. As with American Idiot, 21st Century Breakdown‘s narrative is portrayed through characters, these being the young punk couple Christian and Gloria. The album brings Green Day’s signature sound of raucous guitar and sledgehammer drums on tracks such as “Know Your Enemy” and “Horseshoes and Hand Grenades,” with Dirnt’s bass heavy on “East Jesus Nowhere,” and “Last of the American Girls.” The album’s other single, “21 Guns,” is a power ballad with an anti war message. A hard hitting song in both its lyrics and melody, this track once again confirms Green Day’s stellar songwriting abilities. For me however, my personal favorite song on this album is “Viva La Gloria? (Little Girl).” Opening with haunting piano notes, the track then builds into a crescendo of rockabilly sounding guitar and powerful bass lines, with the lyrics describing a woman whose destructive drug habit is forcing her onto the streets.

Guitar World Magazine article, August 2009

In this era of auto tune and zilch instruments for many of today’s top selling recording artists, Green Day remains so refreshing, so cathartic, to listen to: an actual band! And a rock band at that. Though many folks scoff at Green Day having long lost any sense of their original punk roots, once again, I do not care. The sheer talent within the melodies and songwriting is gold. This album is a true rock epic masterpiece, just like American Idiot.

For me, 21st Century Breakdown was forever sealed into memory upon listening to it during a Fourth of July weekend trip with my Dad. We were driving along the boundless tracks of eastern Wyoming, blasting it at top volume. My Dad, the one who introduced me to Bowie and many other classic rock artists, knows what good music is. And he loved that album. Still does. My Mom too; she’ll request that I play it for her. How cool is my Mom? 🙂 And to this day, whenever I think of Wyoming, 21th Century Breakdown starts playing in my head. Just last August I drove up to Laramie, and once I crossed the border into the Equality State, I immediately started playing the album: I was 17 again.

Denver Post review of Green Day’s performance at the Denver Pepsi Center, August 2009

Exactly three months after the album’s release, I saw Green Day live at the Denver Pepsi Center. I’d been playing a tennis tournament all day, was sunburned and tired. Didn’t care though. Show time, I dressed in my black skinnies, black Vans, and black shirt; I wanted to wear a red tie just like Billie Joe, but couldn’t find one in time.

And wow, Green Day did not disappoint. They played their new album, older songs, and several covers. It was a looong set: two hours or more. I remember watching the riot of the mosh pit from high above, reveling in a great time. I remember all the emo kids my age, and the Gen Xers who’d known Green Day from their early days. Just as the release of the album heralded summer break, that concert ushered in my final year of high school. The timing of that album could not have been more perfect. Green Day, thank you for the wonderful music and memories.

~LMC

Happy 30th Birthday Fuzzy

Thirty years ago today my beloved horse Flash, “Fuzzy,” was born. He was foaled in Tennessee, lived the first half of his life in Oklahoma, then lived out the rest of his years in Colorado. I knew him from 2003 till his passing in 2017. His birthday, on Cinco de Mayo, I always celebrated, by giving him plenty of treats covered in molasses. To remember my friend today, below is the transcript of a commemorative speech I gave in March 2012, for Speech Class. Reading this piece for the first time in years, everything I wrote still rings true…Miss ya Fuzzy.

—–

My “boyfriend” is a cute brunette with big dark eyes, is outdoorsy and enjoys running. He has been a vegetarian for all of his 23 years, has never gone to school and weighs, oh about, 1200 pounds…This “boyfriend” I talk about is my horse Flash, and today I will speak about my furry friend that I have known for nearly a decade. This horse, Fuzzy, as I also call him, deserves to be praised as he has truly been a great friend.

I first met Flash in 2003, the year I began riding him, and received full ownership of him in 2005. Right away, I knew how well behaved he was, (and still is), and he truly helped me improve my riding skills. Any excuse to be at the barn, I took. I brushed him, washed him, and gave him way too many treats, all of which I still do today. He is the best friend a girl can have, as I have told him all of my secrets and fleeting crushes, and he has never told anyone (to any humans, at least). He never talks back, which is nice, especially when I went through the awkward tween phase, to the “I just noticed boys” phase, etc. So, as you can see, having a furry companion like him is very comforting.

The first blue ribbon I ever won, the most exciting trail rides I ever experienced, are because of Flash. I love to introduce my equine pal to all my friends, and I always enjoy the look of awe they get when they first look him in the eyes. I know 100% that Flash enjoys this too as he is the most sociable, friendly pony; he is kinder than most humans, I can say. All the superficial worries I have, always melt away when I’m with him, especially when I go for a ride. If you’ve ever ridden a horse while they gallop, then you know the sense of freedom, the adrenaline rush you get as hear the rhythmic clatter of their hooves and feel the wind whip your hair back…Some of the best days of my life have been with Flash, and I’ll remember these times till the very day I die…

            Being at the barn with Flash is the essence of my childhood. I have always said, a barn is a good place to grow up. Horses teach you responsibility, make you focus and reveal what true relaxation is. They teach you to live in the moment, to live in the present. So, what better babysitter than a horse? For the next few summers that followed 2003, we rode almost three times a week, until high school really started to crunch down on my riding time. Despite that, Flash and I have maintained a bond that has never weakened. Even though I am away at college right now, I know that Fuzzy is in good hands, as my parents dote on him as if he was their other child. Plus, I know that Flash is providing the next generation of kids with his company, and is helping such youngsters familiarize themselves with equine etiquette and riding finesse. In truth, Flash has helped “raise” many kids throughout his lifetime, and I am grateful to know such a fine creature. Animals, especially horses, are a positive influence and help humans really appreciate the finer qualities in life: responsibility, humility, hard work, and best of all, friendship. So, girls, if you want a drama free guy, then hanging out with a horse is the way to go!

–LMC

Hoka Torrent First Impression

Hoka is currently one of the fastest growing brands in run specialty. Their radical approach of maximum cushioned shoes has and continues to win over countless runners, walkers, and those just simply looking for a comfortable shoe. With plenty of models in both road and trail running, Hoka have long since proved their popularity; they are no longer just a niche brand. Originating in 2009, during the minimalist/ barefoot running trend, Hoka was polar opposite in their philosophy, their shoes providing generous stacked cushion accompanied with a meta rocker. In keeping an open mind to the “maximalist” trend, I recently acquired the Hoka Torrent trail shoe, a new trail racer for the brand.

Specs

The Torrent is a cushioned trail racing shoe with a heel to toe drop of 5mm, and a stack height of 26mm at the heel, and 21mm at the forefoot. The shoe does not have a rock plate, given this thickness and firmness of the midsole. The shoe is very lightweight, with each shoe weighing at 7.5oz for a woman’s size 8B (which I own). The outsole features multidirectional lugs to provide traction on technical terrain.

Great traction!

The midsole is comprised of Hoka’s PROFLY midsole to provide energy return and shock absorption. The upper is engineered mesh to provide breathability, while rubber overlays on the toe box provide additional protection and durability. As with the majority of trail running shoes, the Torrent is a neutral shoe (it does not address pronation.)

Running Location: Bear Creek Lake Park, Morrison, CO

Starting at 8am, I ran an out and back route on a section of the Mt. Carbon Loop, a simple single-track trail. I started from Soda Lakes parking lot just outside Morrison, then made my way east along the sidewalk and under the C-470 underpass, then hopped onto the trail. It was a brisk but sunny day, with the trail still covered in snow. As it was early in the day, the snow had not yet thawed, and was still firm: no sloppiness or mud. Overall elevation averages 5,568 ft.

Firm snow, perfect for running.

First Impression

Immediately upon trying these, the cushion is noticeably firmer than the uber popular Speedgoat trail shoe, which I own as well. I always describe the Speedgoat as a pillow beneath my foot, with the midsole having a stack height of 32mm at the heel, and 28mm at the forefoot; the shoe is very plush. The Torrent on the other hand lacks this plushness, and has a stack height several centimeters lower. For those who prefer a firmer shoe, or are intimidated by the amount of cushion and stack height in the Speedgoat and Stinson models, this new model can be an option when considering Hoka trail shoes. And whereas the Speedgoat has a true meta rocker that provides a smoother heel to toe transition, I didn’t feel much of one while running in the Torrent. I do like the feel of the rocker whenever I wear my Speedgoats, but it is not necessarily something I always want to have while running; hence, the Torrent is a nice way to vary things up.

L: Hoka Torrent, R: Hoka Speedgoat 2

Size wise, I find the Torrent runs long. Normally I wear 8.5B, but for this shoe I went with 8B, and I still have plenty of room. With trail shoes especially extra room is ideal, to avoid jamming the toes when running downhill, and to accommodate for swelling. But to be honest, even wearing my thickest wool socks, the 8B still fits just a tad bit big. But personal preference always plays a huge role in selecting and trying on shoes, so if you really like a roomy fit, Torrent fits this bill. As with most Hokas I have tried, the width of this shoe is a little wider. If you found Hoka Challenger too narrow or Hoka Stinson too wide for your liking, Torrent is a good option. Wearing the Torrent and Speedgoat side by side, I find the width to be about the same.

I ran about five miles total, the snow underfoot a crunchy, dry consistency. The lugs provided great traction and I had zero issues with sliding; I felt secure the whole run. I felt snappy in these shoes and can see how they are trail racers, with their lightness and superior grip along the ground. Regarding route technicality, the section I ran is very flat, with a small rise of a few hundred feet or so. This incline posed no trouble for the shoes as I scrambled up to take in Bear Creek Reservoir. Running back down the lugs still did their job of offering great control.

Bear Creek Reservoir, looking west. The red object in the middle of the photo is an ice fishing hut.

Regarding comfort, I like the softness of the Speedgoat but like how the stack height is lower in the Torrent. Hoka shoes are about muting the feeling of the ground underneath; a rock plate is not necessary for these shoes at all with the PROFLY midsole providing plenty of protection underfoot. I ran in the Torrent with no orthotics, and as I have higher arches, I can see myself using my Currex insoles with the shoes to further customize the fit. The Torrent’s mesh upper sits a little higher above the foot, giving a some wiggle room for the feet, while the Speedgoat upper hugs the foot more. I did not experience any heel slipping.

I am quite impressed with the Hoka Torrent. I appreciate the lower stack height and the firmer cushion is a nice break from higher cushioned Hokas. The tread performed wonderfully in the snow, so I can only assume that on dry conditions the lugs would be just as efficient on dirt and technical terrain. The sizing I find a little big, but then again that may be due to preference. If you are wanting to try a Hoka trail shoe but don’t want to commit to a greater stack height or higher cushioning level, drop by your local running store to give these shoes a try! They are ideal not just for running but can easily be used for hiking as well. The Torrent is available in various color options for both men and women, and retails at $120.

~LMC

*Disclaimer: I am in no way sponsored, paid by, or affiliated with the brands/ items mentioned in this post. I write simply to inform other runners like myself of products that may interest them.

Run Report: 2018 Review & 2019 Goals

Yesterday I ran 10 miles, my longest run (so far) for 2019. Spring fever is very much in the air, with sunny skies and cotton ball clouds, snow still on the ground but dissipating…As with most long runs, my mind drifts to various tangents, and during yesterday’s run I mused about my 2019 running goals.

But before I explore this year’s running aspirations, I want to quickly revisit 2018, an amazing running year.

On my 2018 Goal List, I checked off “Run a Half Marathon” and “Run a Marathon.” Both races, the Dream Catcher Half and Rim Rock Marathon, took place in March and November, in Grand Junction, CO. This was fitting, as “Junction” is where I truly fell in love with running (see post Run Run Run). A college tennis player, running was a new outlet for me. I became a running fixture around campus, making loops along 12th, North, 7th, and Orchard. If you saw a girl running those streets circa 2014-15 in a red jacket and black sweats, long ponytail flying back, there is a damn good chance that was me. 🙂

The day after I ran Rim Rock Marathon, I had to go back up to the course for more pics 🙂

In June 2018 I also ran my first trail and Leadville Series race, the Leadville Heavy Half. Being a mountain girl and a history geek, the scenery and mining history of the area made this race very special. In August 2017 my Dad and I drove up and over Mosquito Pass into Leadville; it was fun to experience the same place, but this time via my own two feet.

In October, my Grand Junction buddies Jamie, Yoli, Cate and Trish, and I ran the Hot Chocolate 15k/ 5k in Denver. It was a cold morning, but once up and running (couldn’t resist the pun), the brisk temps weren’t an issue. Out of all the 2018 races, this 5k race I performed the best: 10th place overall for females, and 1st place in my age division! But best of all was the experience of running with my friends, and the hot chocolate and snacks post race. In addition to these races, I ran several smaller, community based 5ks, the Hogback Hustle and the KC Gobble Wobble.

Cowgirl runner! KC Gobble Wobble 2018. Photo courtesy C. Campbell

Yee haw! Approaching the finish. Photo courtesy C. Campbell

2019…

So what’s in store for 2019? I’ll admit I have not registered for any races yet. Since running Rim Rock back in November, I’ve backed off running some, giving my body and mind a well deserved rest. This year I’m averaging about 15-20 miles a week, in contrast to the 30ish miles a week during my marathon training. Now with spring approaching, I’m starting to ramp up the mileage and consistency.

As for running goals, I know I want to run more half and full marathons. I’m considering the Palisade Marathon in May, a road race which winds through Colorado’s wine country, right by Grand Junction. I certainly want to run trail races as well, dirt terrain being so much more forgiving on the body, and I am considering Desert Rats Trail Series in Fruita, and/or Grand Mesa Ultras in July. So many races, so little time…

Another running goal: to run on the beach in San Diego. I’ll be visiting California twice this year, so there’s a good chance of fulfilling that. I’ve run in San Diego before, which is sea level, so you have full oxygen but the summer humidity alone presents a new challenge. Add beach sand and I’ll have a completely different running experience, engaging all those micro muscles…

Regardless, I know I’ll have new running experiences this year, no matter the race, terrain, or place. As long as I’m running, I’m a happy girl. A runner’s got to run!

~LMC

Pre-race focus. Photo courtesy C. Campbell


A Fuzzy Valentine’s Day

February 14, 2005 will forever be my favorite Valentine’s Day. But initially, it didn’t start out that well…

Twelve year old me had a horrible head cold that winter day, so I didn’t go to school. Sprawled on my bed, feeling miserable, I was surprised when my parents asked—rather insisted—that I go down to the barn with them to see Flash, the horse I was riding and taking care of.

Summer 2003

In 2003, my Mom’s tennis teammate, Joanna, owned and boarded Flash at the barn right near where I lived. I’d been visiting that barn since my earliest days, and when I was nine I started taking horse back riding lessons there. When Joanna heard that I loved horses and was an avid rider, she expressed her interest in leasing out Flash to me, as she wanted him exercised more often. My Dad and I considered this offer and decided it was the perfect deal: I’d be able to ride more outside of lessons, and gain valuable experience about caring for an equine.

Soon afterwards my Dad and I visited the barn to meet Flash for the first time. At the pasture adjacent to the barn office, we spotted him: gleaming chestnut coat, white blaze. He approached us and I gave him a treat. Looking into his soulful eyes, by far the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen in a horse, I was struck by his kind demeanor and patience. Dad and I approved.

Summer 2003: First encounter

The lease agreement dictated I ride on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. On those days, I would go straight from school to the barn to tack up, ride and care for Flash. He was a patient teacher, always considerate. Together we made a great team, and it showed in the slew of first and second place ribbons we won at the local schooling shows; we dominated Advanced Western Equitation for a few summers. Flash may not have been officially “my” horse, but he certainly felt like it.

That particular Valentine’s Day, I wanted to see Flash, but I felt too wretched to go. But my parents kept pressing, so along I went. It was a sunny day, and a short walk–just 3/4 of a mile–but it felt longer, as my temples ached, and my stuffy nose throbbed. Upon approaching Flash’s pasture, I immediately saw him, wearing a bright red ribbon around his neck. How cute, was my bemused thought. We opened the gate and went inside, standing beside him as he greedily stuffed his face with hay. I stroked his neck and mane, admiring the fuzziness of his winter coat. I fed him some treats. Then my Dad handed me a red envelope addressed to me, “Leah Marie.” My parents had the biggest smiles on their faces as I opened the card, which had on its front a photo of a horse that looked like Flash.

How cute!

Inside the card read:

I chuckled, thinking again, Oh how cute. That was nice. Can I go home and sleep now? I smiled, replied, “Thank you guys, this all was very sweet.” My parents exchanged a look, then Mom resumed her gaze at me as she raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t you understand what it means? You know, ‘Be Mine’?”

I still wasn’t catching on. She paused for effect.

“Leah, ‘Be Mine,’ means that…Flash is now officially your horse.”

Valentine’s Day 2005

I nearly dropped the card onto the frozen February mud. Every cliché—jaw dropped, dumbstruck—applied to me that moment. Tears sprung to my eyes as I fully (and finally!) absorbed what I’d just heard. Flash: mine? I flung my arms around “Fuzzy” and gave him a big kiss, while exclaiming “Thank you!” a dozen times. I then gave Flash several more treats.

“Don’t just thank us. Thank Joanna,” my parents were quick to point out. They then explained that Joanna had decided to transfer ownership to us. She saw how happy Flash was with me, and vice-versa, and was assured he would be in good hands. I am forever grateful to her, and to my Mom and Dad; if it were not for their interest, support, and generosity, Flash would not have been part of my life. And that is unthinkable, now as I look back at the 15 wonderful years we had together. As I wrote in my eulogy for him, Flash is my childhood. And what a freakishly happy and fun childhood it was. A barn is a wonderful place to grow up, and horses the best mentors.

The rest of the day it was as if I had been miraculously cured of my cold. I felt so happy I was floating, a permanent smile on my face. I was already bursting to tell my friends the wonderful news. Back home, on the small dry erase board above my bed, I proclaimed in all caps:

FLASH IS NOW MINE!


He will forever be my best valentine. I love him, and I miss him. I wish he were still here. He is in my heart. Thank you Mom, Dad, and Joanna for the way you planned to reveal that news to me on none other than Valentine’s Day. Can’t be beat.

Wishing you all a Happy Valentine’s Day,

~LMC