an end to summer

Summer officially ended two days ago, and even though i lament the passing of long days and cricket-filled nights, i do like fall as well. I have a whole list of "to-dos" that i never accomplished this summer, but i don't feel too bad because some of the things on my list have been there for 2-3 years now. I'll just add them to next summer's list when spring rolls around. And even though there are lots of things i didn't get done, we have been busy with a number of other projects like the hen house, canning, and lots of eating. I've been meaning to build a hen house for the last month. I was hoping to get it done before the chickens started laying, but i didn't quite manage.

I found the first egg on the first day of fall and i got another one today. But i have made progress on the henhouse. We got it all framed last weekend, and i'm hoping i can finish it up this weekend.


In addition to the hen house, we've been trying to put up and cook with the garden abundance we've been enjoying.

Twenty or so different varieties of heirloom tomatoes.

Over Memorial Day we turned some of this:


into this:

Raspberry Salsa, cucumber salsa, peach salsa, and mint jalapeño jam.

And this last weekend, we turned more of it into this:

Zucchini salami pizza

Red Chile coppa pizza

Tomato basil pizza (actually i think cait put just about everything on this pizza, so maybe it should be called "everything but the kitchen sink")

Calzone (i have to admit, this was a botched pizza, but we just folded the dough over and it still made a pretty good calzone).

Cait and T-dub's peach, brown sugar dessert pizza.

lotoja '09

This year at Lotoja i mostly got beat by a lot of people. Here are some of the people that beat me:



and yes, even my BFF beat me, even though she started a good 30 minutes later than me.


She did take 2nd in her category and the official results show her as QOM with a time of 16:52, though at the awards ceremony they gave the QOM (and the free hotel room and ski passes for two) to someone else who was almost a whole minute slower at 17:50. Guess it pays to check the results and protest, even at a clustermuck race like Lotoja.


The race was topped off by an exciting night of firetrucks and smoldering logs, which the artist elucidates far better than i can. Suffice it to say we didn't get back to bed until after 2:00 am.

cowboy 101

Trigger called the other day and asked if we would be interested in coming down to the ranch to help him move a bunch of cattle. T-dub and i had so much fun when we went down a few weeks ago we quickly agreed and loaded up wrangler jeans, cowboy boots, straw hats, and a couple of bikes and headed south to look for cows on a windswept rocky mountain side. The suburban cowboy and his family also headed south for the adventure where we all got a few lessons in cowboying. Here i present a few of those first lessons.

Lesson no. 1: the cows are not all sitting around having little tea parties just waiting for you to come and show them where to go.

As we drove past a small valley and Trigger started pointing out all the draws and hills where the suburban cowboy and his lovely wife Ernie would have to ride to gather the cattle, Ernie, bless her little heart, suddenly exclaimed, "oh really? this is not what i imagined. i thought they would all be together and we would just have to ride up and politely tell them where to go" (i'm paraphrasing, i may have taken some poetic license, but that's basically what she said). Under his stiffled laughter Trigger explained that, no the cows weren't all together just waiting for us to go get them, but they were, in fact, scattered all over the mountain and one of them would have to ride back and forth driving them to the main group which the other one of them would be pushing towards the gate a few miles down the road.

Ernie ready for 8 hrs. in the saddle, looking hip and fashionable in her aviator glasses and park city chic boots and jeans.

Lesson no. 2: cell phones aren't cool when you're hanging out with cowboys (and they don't work very well for that matter when you're hours from the nearest habitation).

As Ernie and the suburban cowboy mounted up and got ready to head out Ernie earnestly asked the suburban cowboy, "you have your cell phone right?"
Trigger could no longer contain his laughter, "I hate to tell you honey, but no cell phone is gonna work up here." Ernie looked worried, consternated, scared, and nervous. What if she fell off her horse? what if she lost her husband? what if she got lost? But to her credit she spurred her horse and did her job, cell phone or not.

The suburban Cowboy and ernie mounted up and ready to go (with cell phones in their pockets, you know, just in case).

Lesson no. 3: how to throw a calf.

A number of the calves had been born on the mountain and thus hadn't been tagged, castrated, or otherwise tended to in the spring before the cows had been taken from the desert to the high mountain range. As a result, a cowboy has to rope these untagged calves and take care of some basic business. This is easier said than done, however, which the following will illustrate. First of all, calves are heavy. Even though they look small, they weigh in the order of 150-300+ lbs. Second, picking up and throwing 250 lbs. is hard enough as it is, now consider that these little buggers, despite those big, soft brown eyes, are just as intent on not being picked up and thrown on the ground as you are on getting them down. Third, despite being frustratingly slow and lethargic when you're trying to herd them, those little calves are surprisingly quick and energetic when you get a rope around their neck and try holding them to the ground.
But Trigger roped a calf and provided instruction: "grab the rope and work your way up, then grab it's front leg and rear flank, lift it, drive your knee in its side to knock it off balance, and throw it down. As soon as it's down, kneel on it's kneck and grab its front leg so it can't jump back up." easy enough right. Well, let's watch the suburban cowboy and see.





and now let's watch Trigger show how it's supposed to be done.



The great irony in this is that earlier in the day after i had tried to throw a calf and just about lost my left testicle after i didn't kneel on it quickly enough after i threw it and it jumped back up between my legs leaving me straddling it backwards with the rope wrapped around my leg and still dallied to Trigger's saddle, the suburban cowboy endlessly riled me. "Take your skirt off and throw that calf down," he laughed from his horse. "When are you going to quit being a pansy and start being a man?" This coming from the same guy who looked more like he was doing an awkward tapdance than trying to throw a calf. The week before we went to the ranch he called me and expressed some concern (that's an understatement, he was downright upset) that i had dubbed him the "suburban cowboy" on my blog. I told him i would consider changing it, but now think it is only fair to put this decision to my reading audience (all three of you). So please refer to the poll on the right side of the blog and vote on whether you think i should continue to refer to him as the "suburban cowboy" or whether i should start calling him the "really tough cowboy who just happens to live in the suburbs." You may also use the comment board to suggest other nicknames for the brother currently known as the "suburban cowboy."

Lesson no. 4: real cowboys don't wear shirts


'Nuff said.

Summer

When the Wasatch Crest is awash in wildfowers . . .


and garden produce is in abundance!


i think we may have quite possibly just made the best spicy pesto zucchini pasta ever!!

doing her best to put Utah at the top

Fendall's Mango Gelato. Truly divine!

I have often heard that Utah has the highest per capita consumption of ice cream in the U.S. There are a a few different theories about this, for example, one goes that since all of us Mormons don't drink we drown our sorrows in ice cream or prescription drugs (yes, Utah is also said to have one of the highest rates of prescription anti-depressant use, and porn use for that matter as long as we're making a list).

After a little internet research, however, i have come to the conclusion that Utah does not have the highest per capita ice cream consumption. In fact, most of the rather unreliable sources that i did manage to find, state that Alaska has the highest per capita consumption of ice cream. Go figure! Seattle, Portland, and St. Louis are pointed to as the three cities with the highest ice cream consumption. You'll notice that neither Utah nor Salt Lake City (nor any of its suburbs) were recognized as big consumers of ice cream. (you'll also notice that i used the passive voice in all of those statements, which i abhor, but i can't find a good source without paying $4000 for an industry report on who really does eat the most ice cream, so i'll have to leave it with the passive voice since i dont' really have anyone to cite).

One woman, however, is doing her best to change that. Yes, she is determined to take SLC right to the top of the ice cream per capita consumption statistics. She may be small in stature, but her goals are big, her freezer is even bigger, and she is undaunted in her determination that Utah lead the ice cream consumption polls. I introduce you to Ms. Caity "it was on sale" C. Hill and her freezer door.



Way to go Caity!! We support you all the way!

are you *@#!&#! kidding me?

This morning T-dub and i got out good and early to ride the Alpine Loop. We were hoping to do it in five hours so we could get back by eleven and she could get to work by noon. We were making good time until we started to head up Provo Canyon. We had a bit of a head wind, but i felt really slow and sluggish heading up the bike path to Vivian Park. As we pulled off the bike path i realized the reason was because my front tire had gone low. It hadn't flatted, but just lost a bit of air, so i put some more air in and hoped it would seal. We started up the canyon and made the turn up towards sundance. On the first two miles i realized the tire was getting low again, so we stopped at sundance for me to change tubes. Because i've learned my lesson the hard way, i did the "bloody finger test" and not finding anything put the new tube in, inflated it, and we were on our way. Not more than 3 k up the road i heard the tell tale hiss of another flat.


Dang! i couldn't believe it. I sat down in the road and fixed this one as well, and then we were off. We were nearing the top and enjoying the aspens when, hissss, thump, hissss, thump, hissss, thump.
"Are you kidding?" i thought. "Again?!" T-dub and i were each carrying one extra tube (i usually carry two, but had given one to my brother the other day when he flatted and forgot to replace it), but we had gone through my original and both replacement tubes at this point. I got off and started to walk as i tried to figure out what to do. T-dub checked her saddle bag and found a small patch kit, so we sat down and i patched one of the tubes. Fortunately i had loaded up on CO2 cartridges the other day when we were heading out for a CX ride through the desert. Even though we only had two extra tubes, i had 4 CO2 cartridges, so we patched the tube and got moving.

Flat tire no. 5 (counting the "no work" patches)!!

We reached the top and started the descent when i felt the front end get mushy and heard the hiss and thump repeating again. "No F#$@*^! way! Again!?! F#$@*!% unbelievable!" Unfortunately the patch kit was a "no glue" patch kit, which really means a "no work" patch kit. I know because i tried two patches on two tubes and neither held. Yes, that was the foreshadowing to tell you that i patched another tube, inflated it, and started out, but got no further than ten feet before it went bad. I had one cartridge left, and tried to fix the tube, but the cartridge wouldn't thread right onto the inflater thing, so there we were at the top of the Alpine Loop with no cell phone service (not that anyone would have driven all the way up there to pick us up anyway) having gone through three tubes, two patches and three cartridges (four counting the one that wouldn't thread) .

The cartridge that wouldn't thread!!

We started walking down, hoping someone with a truck would offer us a ride. One of the great things about riding the Alpine Loop on weekdays is there's not much traffic. One of the lousy things about riding the Alpine Loop on weekdays when you've flatted three times and gone through two patches and all of your cartridges is that there's not much traffic. Such was the case today. Seems like the only cars that passed us were Lincoln Towncars full of retirees. One guy on a motorcycle did stop and offer to ride to the bottom of the canyon where he could get cell reception and make a cell phone call for us. We thanked him, but told him we'd hope for a ride from someone.

Could have been worse. At least the view was nice.

Not much later we saw a guy walking his bike up the canyon. "Looks like you're in the same boat as us," i said, but turns out he was just tired and wanted to walk to stretch his legs. He had a pump and we gave it a try, but the tube wouldn't hold air, so we kept walking. Finally after about a mile or so of walking (not something i recommend in cycling cleats) a group of guys heading down the canyon stopped and offered us a tube and cartridge. We gladly accepted and soon thereafter were on our way. Needless to say, what i hoped would be a five hr. ride turned into seven and T-dub was quite a bit late for work.

Big thanks to the guys who provided the tube and cartridge. Sure beat walking the rest of the canyon or even hitching a ride in the back of a pickup!!



Trying to keep up with T-dub just before flat no. 3!

A whole lot of three

Last year as a cat 4 i finished up the Capital Reef Classic in 3rd place GC (that's 3 no. 1). I put in a hard effort on the TT and felt good on the climbs, hanging in the lead pack. This year i upgraded to cat 3 (that's 3 no. 2), for which the CRC would be my first race. The TT starts around 9 am on friay morning, so the plan was to get out of the valley and head out early thursday afternoon. Unfortunately, i had a whole list of things to get done before i could get out of dodge, so we didn't hit the road until around midnight. After a 3 hr. drive (3 no. 3) we pulled into Torrey around 3 am (3 no. 4). I only got about 3 hrs of sleep (3 no. 5) until a bunch of people in the rooms above us started to make a bunch of racket packing and leaving. Despite the lack of sleep, I fared pretty well in the TT, middle of the group, and was feeling ok about the race. That quickly changed after the circuit race and even more after the road race. The circuit race consisted of 3 laps (3 no. 6) of a beautiful loop with a 2 mile climb. I made it over the climb the first lap with the group, but on the 2nd lap, i got dropped about half way up. The artist had also dropped, so we rode together til we caught DC (who was also dropped, just not as early as us), and we rode the rest of the race with a couple of other guys we caught. My result was ok, but not great. My real demise came, however, with the road race, an 80 mile loop up to Fish Lake and then back through Loa. The ride tops out at just over 9000', and covers some really beautiful land. I know, cuz after i got dropped within the first click of the climb i had plenty of time to take in the view.
After i waved the artist on as we came through Bicknell (he had graciously ridden most of the race with me), i came in a not-so-comendable third to last (3 no. 7). From 3rd place last year to 3rd to last this year. what a drag. Regardless, it's a great race: well-organized, great course, beautiful red rock and high mountain landscapes. And now i know what i need to improve to be a little more competitive next year.

A crazy thing also happened to me on our ride back to the car after the TT: a bug flew into my ear! I know a certain anonymous friend of mine has taken a lot of flack from me for insisting on stuffing her ears with whatever she has on hand to keep the bugs out, but i want to publicly apologize for giving her a hard time (though i'm still not going to start stuffing my ears with cotton every time i ride).

(Thanks to Ty "the robot" for the CRC pics)

After the race we headed over to the Baker Ranch to spend some time with Trigger and his fam. the artist and his girls all came over too and killed lots of things with Trigger.



T-dub got to play cowgirl for a day on her birthday, and did a great job considering she had never ridden a horse before. Trigger's a baptize-by-fire kind of guy, and he did not disappoint. Even though it was her first time on a horse, T-dub put in a good 7 hrs. in the saddle, ate kipper snacks, and helped castrate a calf. Trigger and Regi also made her a great dutch oven pineapple upside down cake for her birthday.












Trigger believes a true cowboy lunch consists of kipper snacks. He packed enough tins for all of us, but T-dub "accidently" dropped most of hers out when she was trying to drain the oil. Imagine that, if you hold a tin of herring upside down and shake it they will all fall out on the ground.

But even Dally the dog wouldn't touch the Kipper snacks (notice the kipper snacks in the bottom left of the pic untouched by Dally) . . .



. . . until Trigger forced them in her mouth. Once she got a taste for them, however, she loved 'em. T-dub never loved them.



Leaving the Baker Ranch on the road to Emery we were treated to a cloudburst which left "chocolate milk" rivers streaming down all the canyons, and some incredible plays of light on the wet landscape.