I'm a walking zombie

   

In an effort to increase my body strength and decrease my overall circumference, I have been spending extra time at the local gym lifting weights. The plan is to take advantage of the nice air-conditioned building to get in a good workout. Because of this, I haven't been outside this week to ride my bike. 

 Now don't go thinking I have been a lazy bum. One of the workouts that I tried with my gym buddy this week was something called pyramids. That isn't a good name for it. I want to rename it "repeat until you die".

We decided to do lunges, pushups, pull-ups and squats. First we did 10 of each exercise, then 9, then 8, etc. All the way down to 1. In total, you end up doing 55 of each exercise.

Now, don't get the idea that I can do 55 pushups or pull-ups. Ha Ha, yeah right. The pushups were the cheating kind, I used my knees. As for Pull-ups, the gym has a nice handy machine to offset most of the weight so I don't feel like the weak-armed tyrannosaurus that I am.

Even with cheating, I thought I was going to die when I finally did that last squat. Even worse, when I woke up today, I had to roll out of bed, because my body was screaming in pain.

 So if you see me lurching around in the next couple of days, no, I am not seeking for a meal of brains. I am just really sore.

The search for the elusive United Brethren Cemetery

Okay, I admit, I was starting to feel a bit cocky. My legs are getting muscles, my lungs are stronger, and overall, I can go a lot further than I could when I first started biking. My skinny-bummed husband must have decided that my pride needed knocking down a notch because the ride I took with him this weekend shrunk my head back to normal size. I once again realized that I am still out-of-shape.

The proposed plan was to bike to a little cemetery on Muddy Valley Road that he had found via Google Maps.  According to him, there were a few hills, but nothing really terrible, and it should only be about twenty miles.

My husband’s idea of a few hills is not the same as mine. There were more than a few hills; it was a roller coaster of hills.  Unfortunately, my brain was too slogged at the top of the biggest hill, to even contemplate taking a photo. So you’ve been deprived of the view from the top.

To make up for my failure, here is a photo that I couldn’t resist taking.

Isn’t he a cutey. Okay, I don’t know what sex the llama is; I respected his privacy and didn’t look. But whatever gender it is, it was shy and tried to hide behind the tree.  I fell in love with the little bugger.

Further down the road we came across a whole farm of llamas. I got a kick at their hairstyles. Who knew that llamas could look so fashionable?

By this time, I was starting to get hot and tired. I realized we hadn’t even hit the half-way point. That is when a nagging in my head started to say “you are going to feel this tomorrow.”

Finally we came to a dirt road. Hubby announced that he was pretty sure this was the right road to the cemetery.

If you have never road a skinny-tired road bike on a loose gravel road, you are lucky. It’s scary, and to be honest, not very smart.  I almost crashed a couple times because I have the agility of a sea lion on dry land.

After all that, we realized that it wasn’t the right road.  The next dirt road was probably the one we should take.

Hubby, realizing that I am a klutz, rode on ahead to make sure it was the right road.

Here he is riding away on that gravel road.  I loved the scenery around us, so I took this shot.

That ended up being the wrong road too. By then, I was red-faced and boiling hot.

So we turned around and headed home.  On the way I took a couple more pictures of barns because I adore barns.

All total, we rode 28 miles.  Even though my big bum was numb by the time we got home, I felt a sense of accomplishment for surviving the ordeal. I think I will start strengthening my leg muscles at the gym so I won’t struggle so much on those hills.

Oh, about the cemetery—we never did find it.  After looking some more on Google Maps, hubby realized that the next dirt road past where we went would have taken us there.  I guess that will be the subject of another blog post.

Biking the Hiawatha Trail

Okay, I’m going to say this first. Biking The Hiawatha trail was one of the greatest experiences of my life.

No, I’m not taking drugs and my husband has not hijacked my blog.  I honestly had a blast on this trail. It is an experience I would recommend to anyone who happens to be traveling in the North Idaho region.

Yes, it is expensive—mind-numbingly expensive—but it’s worth it. As my youngest son said, “that was something to remember for the rest of my life.”

So what is the Hiawatha trail? It’s a 15 mile bike route located on the border of Idaho and Montana that is part of the rail-to-trail program. On the trail you go through 9 tunnels and bike over several trestles.

Since our family was having a reunion-type vacation near there, we decided to go as a group to the trail. There were eight of us total: my family of four, and my sister’s family.

Here we all are ready to leave. The tunnel you see in back of us is the perfect beginning to our little adventure. It is a 1.7 mile tunnel. Yes, that isn’t a typo. The tunnel is really that long. And it's very, very dark.  You must have some type of light to go through that tunnel, because it is pitch black inside after the first turn.

Talk about creepy yet exhilarating. It is difficult to describe the eeriness that consumed me as I pedaled through the dank darkness. Even though I knew it was ridiculous, there was still an anxiety chewing at my gut that the tunnel would collapse on us, burying us under piles of rubble.

From these photos, you can get an idea of how dark it was in there. I enhanced the photos so you could see a little more of what the sides of the tunnel looked like. The person bending over was my sister’s son, adjusting something on his bike. My husband and I didn’t have bike lights, so we rode through the tunnel with a flashlight in hand.  That actually worked better than many of the bike lights. There were several issues with the bike lights misbehaving. If you are going to go through those tunnels, take my advice and make sure you have lights that work really well.

That tunnel was very cold too. Even though it was late July, we were frozen when we finally rode out of the tunnel. My fingers were cold from clutching the flashlight.

Here I am on the far side of the tunnel.  Can you tell how happy I am to not be buried under tons of concrete?

The path continues downhill at a gentle slope, winding through the forested mountains.  The trail is packed gravel, so I wouldn’t recommend going on it with a road bike.  I had my trusty mountain bike with me. I was grateful too, because I almost bit it one time trying to take a picture as I rode one handed.  Stupid thing to do!

My bony-bummed sister had a wonderful idea. She hooked her camera on top of her helmet. She was able to take some wonderful videos of our ride down the mountain.  Here is a picture of her with her camera.  Doesn’t she look like a Teletubby?

The next group of photos will show some of the trails and trestles that we rode over.  The view was spectacular the entire way. 

This was the remains of an outhouse I saw near the trail head.

Here is a close up view of my bony-bummed sister and her family.

And my skinny little family.

At the end of the trail, we all were in high spirits. My son was so happy he threw his helmet in the air.

That bus you see in the background was the shuttle bus.  They loaded our bikes into the back and drove us back up the mountain to the parking lot where we had left our car.  The shuttle ride back was relaxing. Our driver kept us entertained by telling us fascinating stories about the history of the area and the great fire that swept through there in 1910.

 

When we got back to the parking lot, we were surprised by how dirty our backs were from the ride. Everyone had a brown stripe up their behinds.

I can’t wait to go back there again.  This time, my goal is to conquer the uphill ride along with the downhill.

For more information, check out the website: http://www.skilookout.com/hiaw/

Fourth of July Weekend

I spent the 4^th of July down in Yoncalla, OR visiting my parents. Yoncalla is a cute little town nestled in a valley south of Eugene.  The town is small, just over 1000 people, but it has a lot of heart.  They have a perfect small town atmosphere that feels homey and inviting.

Since my dad is the mayor of Yoncalla, I got to attend all of the community activities and revel in the friendliness of all of the local residents.

My weekend started out with a community potluck at the local park.  Everyone brought lots of great food. My youngest son, who is a watermelon fanatic, gorged himself of sweet watermelon that someone brought in a cooler.

That evening, my skinny-bummed hubby and I went for a bike ride. Yoncalla is surrounded by rolling mountains that are always green even in late August.  Because it is settled in the mountains, there were lots of hills to ride.  I got a good workout biking along those roads.

This is the Applegate home. One of the first settlers in the area built their home here. It’s a beautiful old house.  If you are ever interested in a fascinating pioneering history, read about Jesse Applegate and his trek to Oregon.

 This is another neat old barn out in a field outside of Yoncalla. I know, I have a thing for barns; they just are so rustic looking,

 Speaking of rustic, this house caught my eye.

On Monday morning, we attended the parade that went through the main street of Yoncalla. For such a small town, it was a neat little parade. Everyone was dressed up in festival colors, and there were lots of flags and happy children eager to get candy.

 This is my dad!

 I loved this creepy guy on stilts.

 Here is my grandpa riding on the WWII veteran’s float.

Goal accomplished, 200 miles in June

Today I completed my 200 miles for June challenge! I would like to say that it was an easy ride that I did with enthusiasm and vigor. However, the truth was I had to drag my lazy bum outside; I didn’t want to move. Every mile seemed to take forever and I just wanted to go back to my comfortable little home. 

That being said, I am glad I did it. It was good for me to get moving instead of sitting at home and eating crackers and Costco’s parmesan artichoke dip. 

I must say, there are a lot of beautiful barns out there. Barns are one of those things that seem to make a picture perfect.  I especially love the red ones; they look so striking nestled in the green grass with a few horses and cattle surrounding them.  Here is one that caught my eye.

I will show you a close-up of that horse. I have never seen a more sway-backed horse in my life. I would love to know how old it is.

He-he in that picture the horse looks like it is nagging me. (Couldn’t resist) 

Here is one more barn that I loved. The windows on it are amazing.  I’ve never seen a barn with such beautiful windows. 

I rode 20 miles today. Thank goodness it is over. My arms hurt!

I am getting addicted to this

Today I started riding, and I couldn't stop. I ended up biking 30 miles!  It was such a beautiful ride. I went back out to the McCabe Chapel because my photos got lost from the last time.  Here is the Chapel.  It is one of those beautiful churches that seem to belong to another century

 

I love that it has an outhouse in back.  Though I refused to use it, I think the outhouse just adds to the charm.

I saw this teddy bear along the side of the road.  There was something macabre yet beautiful about the discarded toy that caught my fancy. I of course had to take a picture of it.

Donkey and a barn

I adored those donkeys so much I had to make a picture of the beautiful red barn with a donkey next to it.