SSWC 09

Thrown abruptly back into the workplace after a fantastic extra long weekend, thus I lack time to write an update on the Single Speed World Championships in Durango this past weekend. So in the meantime check out Will's post & photos:


http://1speedmindset.blogspot.com/

Larmie Enduro

We drove up Friday to partake in the Laramie Enduro. Camped out and got rained on all night. Thankfully the tent held up considering it was brand new. Having the larger tent this year made for a more pleasant sleeping experience. I failed to seam seal the tent and it leaked a bit, but we stayed dry. The morning was crazy, it always goes by so fast at that event. I get so anxious there I think because someone is constantly announcing the count down time to the start. I started boiling some water on the ol' Coleman 2 burner, fortunately it did pound rain last night, because I thought I was going to start a forest fire as the flame on the stove reached to 2 feet high, sometimes higher, but eventually it petered out and the blue flame finally boiled water for the morning coffee. "30 minutes until start time..."

Laramie Enduro was kind of a last minute decision. I did it last year, but when Will asked me if I had registered back in late Feb. or March, I turned my nose down on the event and racing all together. Funny how my attitude changes when summer comes on and ski season is over, I am ready to be on the bike. Luckily I got in a couple weeks ago. I had to go to Houston the 2nd week before the event, when I would normally log on the miles and intensify the rides, but oh well, Houston was great and still overwhelmed about the opportunity to show art out of state.


"15 minutes until start time." Rushed to put on my bike gear get everything sorted, I am not a good morning person. Headed over to the line up and ended up at the very back of the start, which sucked because it was a bike traffic jam into the single track, great track standing practice, but jeez could it go any slower.

I tried hard to get out in front, but my legs were so cold and stiff, my back hurt 45 minutes into the race. Not feeling so great, but thought maybe when it starts to warm up I'll feel better. The Aleve and Sport Legs kicked in and made me feel a bit more energized. I had no idea where I was in the pack of single speed riders, my main goal was to beat my time from last year. There was a larger than normal and strong group single speed women riders this year. The first place woman got 3rd overall, she switched categories from Pro Open to single speed last minute I guess. She has a nice life, from El Paso, she and her husband travel around all summer racing in the Rockies.

The water crossings were epic, waist deep in some sections. Luckily I did not get off course, like last year. The last 10 miles seemed to go on for an eternity. So ready to be done, I could hear the drone of I-80 and knew the finish line and beer was close! I saw Will at the finish all clean and changed. I asked if he won, and he laughed with a beer in hand and told me he got lost, spent about 10 miles off course, bummer. He got 3rd last year and I bet he would have had a podium finish if he didn't get off course.

I ended up getting 4th place in single speed and 2nd in the 40-49 State Ultra Marathon Championships, and I beat my time last year by 20 minutes.


finish photo by WFS 2

Heil Hail

Well now that it seems like I live in the Pacific Northwest going out in the rain is no big deal. I finally got into the Laramie Enduro, but now I am second guessing that decision, as I have felt a bit lazy and unmotivated to get on the mountain bike for some reason, well just this week. Perhaps it was riding 9 days in a row, bad idea. After a week in Houston I was so excited to get back on the bike I went a little crazy. Anyway took yesterday off and, well, felt like I should keep the wheels spinning to get all good and ready for Laramie. Didn't want to drive up to Ned so decided on Heil, which is not my favorite, but it's close and I could get in a short ride.







Saddled up the ol' blacksheep and headed out under low clouds blanketing the foothills, reminiscent of my time riding a real horse across the Mongolian steppes. Ran into Bobbie Bensman, on her road bike. She started talking about the Vapor Trail 125 and that got me thinking about entering, but found out it's full and there's a waiting list, that might be a good thing.



Luckily I got a late start this morning and avoided the marble size hail that pounded Heil Ranch. The hail looked like snow, and for a minute I thought I had traveled back in time to March. I got rained on the entire ride but I am used to it, now that I live in PNW climate, so no biggy. Along the ride I started to notice all these cacti bunnies and snapped quite a few photos, they were everywhere. I have a strange obsession with bunnies, as is expressed in my art.









Art, hmmm, yea need to get on it. I just can't seem to get away from the bike and it's difficult for me to fit in both. Lately I find myself doing more business related to art. Sending portfolios, working on the new website, sending images, securing shows, etc. etc. I have been thinking of new ideas and projects, but at times I feel like I need an army to execute these grandeous ideas.

I just got into Art Prize an American Idol type of contest. Catch is that it's in Grand Rapids, Michigan but there is large amount of money being offered to the winners. So who knows, the chances are very slim, but I got into my top choice venue which is an art museum located in the old Federal Building. More to come on that later. Will probably be requesting folks who know people in Grand Rapids to come out and cast their vote for an inflatable rabbit and rubber rabbits.

riding in solitude

Headed up to the hills to get in a solo mountain ride. Felt good to get outside and spin the legs on dirt after being indoors most of last week. Always good to take a break and always good to be back home.











Looking forward to the next outing.

Hot Art in Houston

The week finally arrived for Angela Beloian and I to fly out to Houston to install our "Detritus" show at the Art League of Houston. My first out of state show. I have been super excited about the opportunity and nervous at the same time. We had to ship all our work and I decided to omit a few pieces to save money as the shipping costs added up quickly and the space is a bit smaller than the Dairy Center, where our Detritus show exhibited a few months earlier.

Houston surprised me, it has quite the art scene and a quaint historic district, where we stayed, which is in the Heights district. Houston is the fourth-largest city in the United States, the largest city within the state of Texas, and "the energy capital of the world." My energy levels were low, I attributed this to the constant humid air vs. air conditioning contrasts. People in Houston spend the majority of the summer living in A/C.






















Day 1: we pick up the rental car, drive to the Art League to see if our art survived the journey via UPS. I took 2 rubber rabbits with me on the plane and added those to the pile at Houston Art League. Two of my packages were damaged, the only 2 which I did not insure, don't think I'll use UPS to send art again. Luckily my art is not too fragile since it's mostly made of rubber and plastic bags, but the blower for my inflatables broke, which was easily repaired. We headed back to Angela's friends' home to find a branch for her 1,000 crane installation piece. She lucks out and finds a dead fig tree branch in their backyard.




Day 2: installation scheduled to begin, but repairs needed to happen first. Madame X was set up to be installed but the hanging wire broke immediately before we even hung it. Thank god for Sarah, she rigged up a chain to hang it up, it weighs about 80 + pounds, so I figured 100lb test picture hooks should work just fine. We got Madame X up, the inflatable rabbit as well as Angela's album cover piece. We needed to head out to give an artist talk at Artist SPEAKeasy in Houston. Heard some fabulous stories read by two different authors. Diggin' the art scene in Houston it's pretty hot!


(madame X is the long rubber piece left, on the wall)

Day 3: hit up Inversion coffee house for a double espresso. Inversion Coffee House is a pretty hip spot attached to the Art League. It draws its name from the now infamous Inversion house that once stood in the location of the original Art League of Houston building. In 2005, the Art League was preparing to begin construction of a new facility to house its art classes and the new coffee house. But first, two 1930's bungalows that stood on the site needed to be demolished and cleared. The director of Art League, decided it might be interesting to utilize the abandoned spaces for a temporary art project. She contacted artists Dan Havel and Dean Ruck, a collaborative team that had created installations using condemned buildings. Lacking any budget, Havel and Ruck erected the work with the materials at hand, an exercise in architectonic excavation. After about 400 hours of work over a month of nights and weekends, Havel and Ruck opened the piece ( literally ) to the public in mid April 2005 by cutting a 30 ft. opening in the west facade facing Montrose Boulevard, exposing what appeared to be a vertical tornado of whitewashed wooden siding. The funnel bore through the two houses, dropping back 80 ft. and shrinking in size until it reached a 4 ft. opening onto the east sculpture garden.



After the java stop we walked into the art league, I was shocked to see Madame X lying on the floor, guess she ripped out of the wall last night. Maybe I should have named it the Beast of Burden or better yet, Pain in the Ass. Sarah came to the rescue again beefing up the wall mounts using huge screws placed into the studs. We finally got the show up and headed to Angela's friends for dinner.


(notice above madame X on the ground)






Day 4: The day of the opening. Angela has great connections in Houston and she really knows the art scene there even after 3 years of not living there. We hit up some galleries dropped off some portfolios in hopes that a gallery will want to represent us and take all our work so we won't need to ship it back, fingers crossed. We stopped by the Rothko Chapel to relax and meditate before the opening, I was so tired.




A large number of people showed up for the opening, we gave an artist talk and then mingled with the crowd. Met some really amazing artists doing incredible work. Hopefully this will fire up some inspiration for creating new work. We received wonderful feedback, so thankful for this opportunity.





Day 5: last day in Houston. Stopped into Apama Mackey Gallery to drop off a portfolio and veiw the current exhibit. We visited the museum district. Visited the houston contemporary art museum and the fine arts museum. Definitely more to see than time allowed. Thanks to Angela for being such a great tour guide! Looking forward to the next opportunity to show Detritus.

Hopefully I'll become a better blogger. Perhaps I'll get a post up of previous events, maybe. Stay tuned.

Flintstone bikes hit bedrock

Finally made it out to the desert. We had been planning this trip the past 2 weeks but were denied by various factors. Drove out Friday evening stopped in GJ around midnight, headed out early to hit up Moab. Last time I road in Moab was probably in 2003 when a group of us crazy tripped out Ned Heads ventured out to do White Rim in a day, would like to do that again or Kokopelli. Found some vacant trails luckily as town was packed tight like a can of sardines. Amazing overlooks and crazy winds.





Sunday we rode up from town to ride Porcupine Rim, damn think I rode that trail back in the late 90's. The whole experience seemed so green to me and it was a maiden voyage for the ss black sheep. The descent mighty fun and technical. I appreciated the curved seat stay James welded on my bike during the downhill. Encountered some folks outfitted in DH apparel. Some guys, aka. "steaks" trying their hardest to bomb down sections, tryin' to look all tough and buff but crashing and bleeding.



After PR ride we cruised out of town towards Fruita, made it in time to ride some trails on 18 rd. Great way to end the day riding on the backs of dinosaurs on our Fred Flintstone bikes. Verdant trail abound in Fruita, the greenest I have ever seen. Would be nice to hit it up in May to see the cactus flowers in their bloom.




Monday was our Sunday and we road all morning and afternoon in the sun in Fruita. We descending back to Boulder into the fog and clouds after a weekend of sunshine! Ah glorious weekend and perfect timing! Gracias Guierllmo por un fin de semana fantastica!


photo credits WFS II

Now back to a rainy weekend. Worked in the garden most of the afternoon digging trenches for papas and getting intimate with the mattox.

closures & openings

We had spontaneous plans to go bike in Fruita and take advantage of the sunny dry weather. Right before leaving Will noticed liquid leaking out from his disc brakes. No way to fix that problem and leave by a decent time so we bagged it. Our misfortune was a blessing, had we left yesterday we would have spent last night at the Idaho Springs Red Cross Emergency Shelter situated in a local middle school, eating cup o noodles for dinner. So bad luck was good luck, yes?

This morning I woke up early got ski gear to get some pow at Abasin. Decided to check traffic on CDOT, hah, I-70 CLOSED both directions! It eventually reopened by 10 am, I pondered getting in the car and driving, but that would break my driving to play rule, which is: if driving to play must spend more time recreating than driving.

So here I sit on a rainy day blogging, which I haven't done since January. Will and I decided to get down to Denver and do the urban thing, check out art, vintage shops, famous pizza and the Denver Museum of Contemporary Art. A journey down there on the weekend is always in the plans, but never seems to come to fruition until the rain pours. The museum visit gave me inspiration to start creating again. Finally had to opporunity to see one of Damien Hirst's pieces up close and personal. Hirst is the most prominent member of the group known as "Young British Artists" and is the richest living artist to date. Death is a central theme in Hirst's works. He became famous for a series in which dead animals (including a shark, a sheep and a cow) are preserved—sometimes having been dissected—in formaldehyde.




Sunday, finally made it up to A basin and fortunately got some fresh turns in all day hiking up on the ridge a bunch and the staircases provided ample face shots.

February treated my art world well, Angela Beloian and I showed our work at the Dairy Center for the Arts. A great priveldge to be able to show work, no sales, but stellar feedback. Now I need to get ready for the show at the Houston Art League this summer also with Angela.




March brought on the 8th annual Dojoe Memorial Uphill Downhill Event. Fantastic weather, great costumes and skiing. First year I did not race. Haven't been on the skis nearly enough this year. But the spring backcountry looks like it will be good. Hoping to get out and ski in RMNP there are some peaks I'd like to ski.

We hope to be biking in the hot desert for a few days next week, unless it snows 4 feet....

Time Warp

Feel like I have been in a time machine since we got back from Mexico. Which by the way was fantastic! Warm humid air, long left point break, and loads of fresh lobster. Surfed everyday by lats were good and sore. I think I will need to spend my old age days on the water. Surfing so simple all you need is a board and some lycra to cover you privates and a wave and off you go. Saw a whale and a sea turtle out on the water. Hope to get out on the water at least one more time before 2010 arrives.

So came back from Mexico to my dad having major brain surgery, scary. Can't imagine having someone open up my skull and expose my brain to clip an aneurysm. He is recovering at home finally after 4 weeks in the hospital. He finally started to swallow, something I take for granted and don't really think about, and is eating food! Yea Papa!! 3 weeks in ICU, not a fun place, hope that kid who was hit by a car on his bike off 30th and Colorado recovers, he wasn't looking so good, hooked up to every machine possible. No helmet, not sure if that would have helped him, but it sure got me to wear my helmet when I ride around town or ski.



Ski? Damn I have hardly been out this year pretty pathetic but I spending the time in the hospital and trying to get ready for my art show at the Dairy Center for the Arts has me might busy.



Wondering how I found time to write on my blog after nearly 6 months? It's called procrastination and coffee.

Looking forward to getting the show up and skiing as much as I possibly can. Gots to get ready for the ENDURO baby! yikes

running from rabbits

Change is happening on our lands and it feels good, so I guess we won't need to be rushing to Nicaragua to escape McCain and that lady pit bull, to build a life down in the tropics, although who knows, the ocean and surf sounds so good. soon very soon it will be.

Last week might have been my last high alpine MTB ride.



The hikes have been good. The fishing needs to become more, perhaps a little get away in a couple weeks will provide opportunity for that. The plants and animals treated me right although solo and very solo as the folks who know were not there that day. The fantastic lookout, the mountain air is fresh, wet leaves under the wheels. Soon two planks will be under the feet with (hopefully) glorious powder shots to the face, the blinding kind. Travel might need to happen to get it. Aspen, JH, maybe a venture to Wolf Creek, Taos (now that they allow the likes of Will and his kind, those knuckle draggers).


Recently I feel like this rabbit is chasing me around during the weekdays. So much to do and I manage to find other things. I am such a great procrastinator. I have been running a lot more now that the days are so short, it's hard to get a ride in after work. Have been trying to get up early early to run run run, but I want to sleep sleep sleep. Art needs happen, just difficult to get in that creative space after any long period of neglect. The to do list maybe I will include getting this blog written it's been so long.

falling behind

Okay it's been awhile since I last posted and a lot has happened. The stock market has gone through major fluctuations since the bail out plan was announced. Palin continues to be a national disgrace. She is much better off playing the role of the Pit Bull Hockey mom, especially since it looks like she likes her lipstick. I think someone should seal those lips together. McCain looks like he is in pain when he had to walk around during the "town hall debate" I think the networks or debate organizers need to look up the word debate in the dictionary.

I managed to squeeze in some autumn riding during the week when I teach up in Ned. And some road riding went up to Ward to visit my favorite friend Amber and get cookie to get me up to Brainard Lake and back down to B-town. I miss the mountains, I do miss living up there, the cozy warm fires, the aspens changing, great mtb right out the door, but that WIND and the driving I did. I drive far less these days and commute by bike when I can.

I also miss having a doggy, I miss Nikita. I miss having dog pal to go on backcountry tours during the winter, runs in the summer, fishing in the fall. I am determined to get one at some point and it will be such a good dog I know.

Did some rides on the Picture Rock trail during the week knowing my weekend would be booked up with Open Studios . That was probably the last year I participate in the event. Looking for a larger studio space to get ready for some big shows in 2009. The Dairy Center for the Arts in February and Houston Art League sometime in 2009. It was great to see some folks who showed up, such as Cynthia and her rippin' mountain bike girl posse, I hope I get to ride with them before the snow falls or perhaps ski on the snow. I am starting to think about ski season, although not quite ready for the warm weather and long days to be over quite yet.

heavy dark times

The weekend was productive. Got a long trail run in and a long road bike ride up to Brainard Lake and back down around the flats. I would have ridden the mtb, but feeling a bit overwhelmed with art that needs to get done and also wanting to go away next weekend prevented me from heading up to the hills for some real biking, PLUS Will's bike was in the shop, well it still is. We had plans to head down to NM, he was going to ride the DBT for the second time and I was going to ride the South Boundry. Next year, if I get a GPS, or a buddy who rides at my pace, I'd like to give it a go.

Feelin' heavvvvyyyyy! Winter is coming on, we did go to the Italian Festival Saturday night. Perhaps, I ate too many sausages and cannoli, but it sure was tasty. Added to the Italian food is the lack of sunlight, I can already feel it. The days are shorter, less time to ride after work, and now, I start to become a runner again, until ski season of course. I would love to get a cyclocross bike. I have been debating putting down a bunch of cash for a nice new carbon fiber road bike and converting my old steel Italian road bike to a commuter. For commuter bikes I currently have a 1970 something blue Schwinn (which now has 2 flats) and a 1943 Schwinn (looks just like the Fat Tire Beer bike). But damn when you get a flat, those tires are a pain in the ass to change, no quick release, I suppose I could convert them, need to venture on over to Community Cycles (my used inner tube supplier).

Well the shorter days and more pressure to get ready for Open Studios makes me feel like I have less time for my real passion, biking. I mean, I love art and making it is incredibly meditative. Selling your creations is also a wonderful feeling. But, and it's a big but, I love to be outside and abhor indoor work especially when the sky is so blue and inviting, maybe we should move to Vancouver? I could get more art done there for sure. But I have lived in Eugene, and the lack of sunlight did put a damper on my mood. So it's a battle or I better put, a balance of work-art-biking/skiing(outside time). I find the older I get the less time there is, I suppose it is because a given length of time becomes smaller and smaller in relation to your whole life as you age.

The Flying Marmot: commuting home

The Flying Marmot: commuting home

commuting home

Work is getting hectic at least my Boulder school is. Too many negative vibes from that place sending me into a downward spiral. I really appreciate my Ned school and the kids there. However, today I wished for a different job or not to have one at all. It is frustrating dealing with people who live in the rumor mill. I feel like I am dealing with the same type of mentality as the folks who believe Obama is a Muslim terrorist. The rumor mill is an ugly dark place where poor souls get trapped and they can't seem to think outside the box. Enough about that crap.

The clouds rolled in over the divide later in the afternoon up in Ned. I left my car at the bus stop after work and road some single track back home. Fall is beginning to arrive, the colors are incredible right now. I managed to get a few shots on the commute home. Hopefully I'll have more time next week to link up the single track better.

"plants and animals disappear to make room for your fat a**,"

just to quote a bumper sticker. Feeling like an true single speed outlaw up in the land near the kill kare inn. A beautiful early fall day. We headed out and not too far into the ride ran into Jen and Josh. I had not seen Jen since the Backcountry Magazine ski test out in Powder Mountain, which was more like coral reef mountain. Unfortunately we hit that resort at their absolute worst conditions. Jen just returned form a South American adventure of sorts.

Will just got his new GPS so now we know how many miles we have ridden, elevation gain, speed, cadence, price of tea in China, etc. , etc. We linked up some great single track that I had forgotten about. Ended the day with some China Gourmet!

road riding

Managed to get a ride in after work and before the BMOCA cocktail reception, for those of us artists donating a piece of work to their annual auction. Unfortunately we do not get a percentage of sales, which kind of irks me a bit. As an artist I do not make much money so it is nice when the organization you donate to at least gives you 20% back to cover your cost of making the work. Whatever, I suppose I donated to support the arts and get more exposure. It's all about exposing yourself.

William and I decided to save fossil fuels and avoid making carbon footprints by road riding yesterday. A good 50 miles of up in the hills with a loop out on the flats. Was a bit chilly up in the canyons. While on the ride I started thinking about future art projects. I really want to do more with my inflatable pieces. One idea is to make some forms that I could then place along 36 towards Lyons. The wind get real good out there, I mean real fierce. As we road along the hwy. I notices the remnants of old plastic shopping bags blown into the fences and shrubs, just mere shreds of plastic remain blowing in the wind. Would be cool to install a bunch of inflatables with open backs along the roadside and photograph them. Okay, guess it's just another item to add on the to do list.

all of the above

The ss trio headed up to my old home town of Nederland for some riding this weekend.




I have still not adjusted to work and getting up earlier than my body wants to, I guess it's only been a few weeks. Just can't seem to get to bed early to wake early, too much to do.



We got a super late start on Saturday and road up some trails covered with elk poop and down to a town called Marysville. Sunday we put in some miles, about 54, and elevation, quien sabe, but wish my wheels were 3" larger for that ride. Next weekend we hope to get up early and ride places named after extinct animals.







Open Studios is just around the corner, I just dropped of my piece at the library for the opening show. Riding my bike seems to be getting in the way with making art, as well as, fly fishing.



Can't believe it has been over a year since I last casted a fly into a stream. I do struggle with the whole catch and release notion. It seems so traumatizing to the fish you yank out of the water by a hook (preferably barbless), causing it pain, as it gasps wondering what the hell just happened. I recall catch and release fly fishing in Mongolia for greyling, taimen, and lennox (a trout species). The Mongols thought we were absolutely insane, why would you fish if you were not going to keep the fish to eat, what's the point. What is the point? I suppose for me it is being outside, in a stream, figuring out what the fish are eating, and trying to find that big one to take a photo of it and return it to the water. Perhaps I could call myself a fish educator, teaching the fish I catch to look out and be more selective about what they choose to eat. Sort of like eating organic over conventional? I digress. William and I headed out last week to fish with the one weight and 6 weight rods, yes quite a discrepancy there, but it worked. The ideal rod would be a 3 or 4 weight for that stream. A cool rod to have would be the 7 piece which you could stuff in your camelback to do a mt. bike/ fishing day trip. It had been a while since Bill fished too, we were both enjoying this new activity off the 2 wheels. Caught some browns and a rainbow, think we'll need to head up to RMNP to go for that grand slam. Or better yet Nicaragua for some bone fishing coupled with a journey to the pacific for some surfing in Costa Rica. Uh, yea, I am all over the place in my head: teaching ideas, bikes I want to buy and ride, places to ride, surfing, fishing, art to make for Open Studios. Hmmm, maybe I should get a rigid fork and put a 29" front wheel on my bike or there is always 650B?

setting sun

Thanks to the Eldora Escape race a couple weekends ago, I was able to ride through private land legally and head down Marysville (cleaned it this time after my bad crash). Headed up roots to do a few mini supercircle dizzy laps and on up to Tennessee. Hit Setting Sun as the sun was setting, how appropriate. Decided to head down Marysville which can either be stellar or quite painful. Then on to 505 to head back down into Ned. Couldn't ask for a better way to finish off a day of work. Looks like it might be snowing soon up high, it's in the air.

4 decades

Hard to believe another birthday past. Fun was had. Will and I took the bikes to Crested Butte for a rather short (now that I am back to work) vacation. We left Friday night after work, stopped to water the garden, which has provided us with a bounties of migit tomatoes (oh so yummy). Cannot wait to pick the purple potatoes and eat the broccoli.


Saturday, the 23rd, the big birthday! We woke to breakfast served downstairs, fresh eggs, and BUTTER toast, camp 4 coffee buffet style, basically all you can eat. Which is always way too much. I brought the SS and the full suspension, debated between the 2 for a while, decided on the FS, which I was thankful for good ol' granny gear.


We road the single track from town started on the woodland to upper loop trail up to Slate River Rd. up to 403 down to Gothic Rd. up to Scholfield Pass to 401 back to Gothic Rd. back to town. A couple beers, showers and then to the Ginger Cafe, my favorite restaurant in CB. We had incredible weather and I had an amazing birthday! Thanks to William!!!

Everyone Poops!

Back to school, back to the grind. Summer is officially over for us teachers and it has been a brutal awakening akin to the giant terd found in Switzerland.

Managed to get a nice morning mountain ride in, majority of wild flowers still in full bloom, the air crisp, and the solitary bike ride refreshing. Nice to get on the full suspension geared set up, felt so easy after riding the single speed most of the summer. Traveled along singletrack I haven't been on in years. Tried to link up a few trails but managed to get lost for a bit. Would have LOVED to get lost but I needed to get back to town for a meeting. A stellar way to start the day.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed with the new teaching position or schedule. Difficult spending the afternoon indoors sitting on uncomfortable kid sized chairs and listening to someone talk ad nauseam about data. Looking forward to next weekend and spending the big 40 with my man in CB riding all day OUTSIDE!

Exactly 2 years ago today

back to blogging

It's been a couple years since I last blogged. My trip to Peru was my main inspiration for starting a blog. Now it's procrastination that has pushed me back to blogging. I should be in the studio, I should be riding my bike, but instead I'm in front of the lap top typing.

William and I just returned home from a fantastic trip to Salida for some more mt. bike summer riding adventures. No photos were taken as I was really trying to keep up with the crew from Santa Fe, no time to pull out the camera on Saturday. The ride on Sunday was an easier pace but unfortunately my camera battery died when I decided to snap some photos. However William has a good trip report and photos. Been on the bike a fair bit this year. Preregistering to ride single speed in a few mountain bike races like the Firecracker 50 & Laramie Enduro has pushed me to ride my new bike more than the cushy gears, although I think my back might be missing the comfort. Not sure what the next event will be.

Getting ready for a few art shows this year, more on that later, so stay tuned. Time to get to the studio or maybe go for a ride....

Back to the ceramic studio

Needed to go back to Urumbamba to pick up some ceramic pieces from Henry Morales and say final goodbyes. Henry hopes to make it to the USA to sell his work and teach.

Back to Cusco

Made it back to Cusco last night from the tourist mecca of the world Machu Picchu. Cusco was once the foremost city of the Inca Empire and now is known as the archaeological capital of the Americas as well as the continent's oldest continuously inhabited city. Massive Inca built walls line the city's central streets and form the foundations of both colonial and modern buildings. The Incas conceived their city of Cusco in the shape of a puma.

Legend tells that in the 12th century, the first Inca, Manco Capac the son of the sun, was charged by Inti the sun god to find 'qosq'o' or the naval of the earth, a spot where he could plunge a golden rod into the ground until it disappeared. When Manco finally located the spot, he founded the city that was to become the thriving capital of the Americas' greatest empire. The area Manco founded was also occupied by other cultures for several centuries before the rise of the Incas.

I have a couple of days in Cusco before heading back to Lima. Spent the day with Edwin's family at their school. Independence happens here on July 28-29 and is celebrated nationwide. They start celebrating early here with a school program. Children dressed up in the traditional clothing of various Peruvian regions and performed the local dances.

Machu Picchu

I had another day here in Aguas Calientes and Machu Picchu. To avoid feeling like cow lost in the herd I decided to wake up early and start hiking from Aguas Calientes to Machu Picchu at 4:00 am instead of taking the bus. The bus ride from Aguas Calientes to Machu Picchu takes about 20 minutes meandering through numberous switchbacks. The hike in the morning was spectacular, I wasn't alone though, which isn't surprising given the number of humans tromping through this area. As I approached the entrance to Machu Picchu the sun crested over the ridgetops its rays shining onto the ruins of Machu Picchu (MP). Aguas Calinetes is at 6561 feet much lower than Cusco (12,000 feet), making the hiking and breathing easy, it only took 50 minutes to reach Machu Picchu. Once at the top I decided to hike up Huayna Picchu at the back of the ruins. Huayna Picchu translates as 'young peak,' but 'picchu' with the correct pronunciation, refers to the wad in the cheek of a coca-chewer.

Some basic facts on Machu Picchu:
Machu Picchu is probably the most familiar symbol of the Inca Empire. Since 1983 the site has been designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and has been the subject of concern about damage caused by tourism. It is thought that the city was built by the Sapa Inca Pachacuti, starting in about 1440, and was inhabited until the Spanish conquest of Peru in 1532. Archaeological evidence (together with recent work on early colonial documents) shows that Machu Picchu was not a conventional city, but a country retreat town for Inca nobility (similar to the Roman villas). The site has a large palace and temples to Inca deities around a courtyard, with other buildings for support staff. It is estimated that a maximum of only about 750 people resided in Machu Picchu at any one time, and probably only a small fraction of that number lived in the town during the rainy season and when none of the nobility were visiting. It is thought that the site was chosen for its unique location and geological features. It is said that the silhouette of the mountain range behind Machu Picchu represents the face of the Inca looking upward towards the sky, with the largest peak, Huayna Picchu (meaning Young Peak), representing his nose. The peak is also known as the "hitching post of the sun." In 1913, the site received significant publicity after the National Geographic Society devoted their entire April 1913 issue to Machu Picchu.

Feeling like a Cow

Left Cusco early this morning on a bus to Ollanytambo and then a 2 hour train ride to Aguas Callientes, a town nestled in the deep valley below Machu Picchu, enclosed by towering walls of stone and cloud forest. There is a train that runs from Cusco to Aguas Callientes but it was booked months in advanced. I had read that approximately 1,500 to 2,000 tourists visit Machu Picchu daily, so I was a bit hesitant to come here but it is the best-known and allegedly the most spectacular archaeological site on the continent. Definitley happy with the decision to avoid hiking the Inca Trail which faces significant environmental threats due to the vast numbers of tourists using the trail. UNESCO warned that the site could not support more than 200 to 500 visitors per day without sustaining damage.

I took Edwin's recommendation and had him book the Machu Picchu tour for me, but I felt somewhat like a cow today, being herded from one place to the next during the tour. Definitely not use to the organizied tours, a bit of culture shock after living with weavers up in the Andes and only speaking Spanish.

Shaman Ceremonies

In the Andes, 1st August represents the Andean New Year. During the month of August, many Peruvian families make “pagos” or payments to Pachamama, or Mother Earth. These pagos are done in the family home and a Shaman, Paco or Brujo (witch) is invited to assist with the ceremony. The Pagos are usually done by the parents and adult members of the family. For the pago, coca leaves, sweets, incense, dried fetuses of animals, cigarettes and wine are collected. During the pago, the Paco will drink wine, then give an offering to Pachamama, he will also, smoke, and often a cigarette will be left burning for the Apus or Gods. Sometimes, after the ceremony, all the items are burnt and then offered to the Pachamama, being buried either in the house or outside. During my time up in Mucmoca Remigio conducted a similar ceremony.

Adios Mucmoca

I felt a bit melancholy leaving Mucmoca, partly because I knew I would probably never see these people again. We packed up early and headed down the valley back to the school to pick up the disposable cameras and drawing the students created to do the exchange with my school.

The students were very excited when I arrived and asked when they would get their developed photos. I spent some time in the classroom explaining how school is not in session right now because it is summer up in the northern hemisphere. While the teachers were organizing the drawings and trying to find the cameras the kids asked me questions about where I live and what we eat. They asked if we eat cuy (guinea pig) and I tried to explain that we have them as pets. The students displayed some of their handicrafts and I purchased a few items to take home and share with my students. Outside the school workers were busy making adobe bricks as they are building an addition to the school. Last week we had made arrangements with the driver who took us from Pitumarca to the school to pick us up today. He showed up promplty and I said my goodbyes. Ideally I would like to set up some sort of art/penpal exchange between the Larcomarca school and my school.

The drive back to Cusco was a bit frightening, somewhat like being in a video game dodging traffic, dogs and people. Arrived safely back to Edwin's and started planning for the next segment of my trip.

Warp and Weft

Today I tried to weave using the back strap loom. Quite challenging. I have developed a new appreciation for this art form.

Remigion and his mother Bascillia use a backstrap loom, a series of shaped sticks and ties on which a continuous warp and string heddles are used to produce a cloth with four finished edges. Weavers in this area attach the loom to a belt they wear, and tie the other end to an immovable object. They also use a four-staked loom. Backstrap weaving using a variety of techniques and designs can produce detailed and complex patterned cloth.

Most ancient fabrics in Central and South America were woven on a simple backstrap loom, of a type still in use throughout these areas. Other looms used in Peru are the vertical frame loom, and the horizontal loom fixed to the ground with stakes.
The width of the fabric woven on the backstrap loom does not exceed the distance across which the weaver could pass a shuttle from hand to hand. Two pieces of this uncut width with four selvedges could be sewn together to produce a larger cloth. Beginning at one end of the loom, the fabric is woven a short distance, then the loom is turned and the weaving started at the other end. As the warp was filled, the shed rod and heddles became ineffective, and the final weft insertion had to be done with a needle.

A lone duck

They were always together, the duck pair. Along the stream, strolling, picking through the rubbage to find a tasty morsel. Totally content, fat and happy, this inseparable acquainted couple.

My last day in Mucmoca Valley seemed to take years to arrive, but suddenly it was here. Remigio's sister invited me to have duck with them for my last supper. I thanked her and then glanced at the 2 ducks. Hmmm, duck, she meant these ducks, the happy couple. Only one duck? Wouldn't it be best to kill them both? Or perhaps ducks don't have much emotional awareness and one will not notice if the other has disappeared? Doubt that.

She chose the speckled duck. A woven blanket was put up at the gate to prevent the white duck from getting out. No sounds came from behind the woven blanket, only the white duck's loud nervous frantic quacking was audible. This pair had never been separated and abruptly they were disunited. The white duck continued to quack as if it was yelling the speckled duck's name over and over again. The white duck raced around the house searching for her best friend.

I thought of Nikita, the day she was taken down by the mountain lion. She just disappeared. Not knowing what had happened to her, I felt like the white duck, yelling for her, calling her name over and over again, crying.

Presumably Felipe, Remigio's nephew, owned the ducks. He was at school during the slaughter. Remigio mentioned Felipe would be very upset to learn that his duck had been killed. I watched Felipe enter the gate, he had walked by the lone white duck, and looked bewildered. Walked into the house lifted the lid to the pot on the stove and the crying began. He asked his mother, "why, why didn't you kill both of them, or not kill any at all?"

Tomorrow, Remigio's family will have duck again for dinner.

Suenos de Nikita

The dog lying on its side, it looked like fresh mt. lion kill, but as I got closer it appeared as if she was breathing. She was. I carried her over my shoulder crying, this was not Nikita it was a black dog dying on my shoulder as I carried her back up the mountain to the house where the sunshines daily. As I walked another dog appeared it, a young shepard. I placed the black dog on the ground, it had stopped breathing. The shepard pup approached and licked my face and my tears away.

Breakfast with guinea pigs

Last night I tossed and turned my body tempture fluctuated from being extremely cold to sweating. By morning I felt like I was given a new body, although my stomach was not ready to take in the alpaca soup with various floating organs. My foot had swollen and it was difficult to get my hiking boot back on.

Guinea pigs were running around the house along with the chickens, cats and dogs. The view from the house is quite impressive, took some morning photos of Remigio and his family dressed in traditional clothing and then we packed up to hike back over to Bacillia's home in the next valley. At our hightest point we reached 16,000 feet and hiked down crossing through snow and scree. Two hours later we arrived back to Bacillia's house.

Mal Viento

Hiked back down Mucmoca Valley to catch a bus, actually a truck, to find some "tejidos" (textile weaving) at the local Sunday market at the end of the lower valley. The terrifying ride up many switchbacks and along and near cliff edges took about one hour. There were about 50 people crammed in the back of the truck who were picked along the route through the valley and were all headed to the market to sell or trade goods. Remigio and I got off the bus early in order to walk and take some photos of Ausangate Peak, which towers to 20,906 feet. The Incas worshipped mountains, and to them, Apu Ausangate was the reserve of the gods ("apu" means spirit). Ausangate is the highest mountain in the Cordillera Vilcanota, towering in the southeast sky from the city of Cuzco. It is a long, rugged mountain, with two high peaks rising from its jagged summit crest. The lower peak rises just east of the high peak, and is separated by a small saddle.

After a 20 minute walk we arrived to the town and checked out the market. Not much was for sale mostly food. We ate some lunch from a local merchant which I regret doing now. It began to rain and Remigio put out the word that I was looking for some weaving. We visited a few homes of local weavers but found nothing. The truck sounded its horn and we had to run to catch it. Remigio asked the driver to drop us off midway down the valley. We then hiked up the valley to where his younger sister lives. I started feeling really odd at about 14,700 feet and began to hyperventilate. I don't think it was the altitude considering I was just up at that elevation. My broken foot was swelling up and quite painful. Starting to think this trip to Peru 3 weeks after I broke my foot was a huge mistake. When we arrived to his sister's house I nearly collapsed. I lay on the bed trying to sleep but my entire body began trembling every 30 seconds beyond control. Felt like I had thorns in my stomach I just could not stop shaking. Was it that lunch? The altitude? I tried to meditate and concentrate on my breath and that seemed to increase the time between trembles. Guinea pigs were running back and forth acorss the dirt floor. It was also somewhat terrifying not knowing what was happening to my body. Remigio made me some mate de coca and I tried to sleep again. I was in my sleeping bag covered with 3 alpaca blankets and still felt cold. About an hour later Remigio and his brother-in-law told me to take my feet out of my sleeping bag so that they could hold burning medicinal herbs under my feet. Within 10 minutes the trembles subsided and I was sound asleep. I will never know for sure if it was the medicinal herbs that cured my sickness or just time, but I'd like to believe it was the herbs. Much later Remigio offered me some Alpaca guts, but I just couldn't stomach them. I fell into a deep sleep and didn't wake until morning. Remigio attributed my sickness to the ghosts that live in the valley and the mal viento "bad wind."

Global Warming Signs

Every morning I wake to view La Brayani mountain rising up from the Mucmoca Valley at 5600 meters or 18,372 feet. 20 years ago Brayani Mountain was covered with snow and glacial ice, but today only thin ribbons of snow remain. After a weaving session I hiked up with Remigio and his uncle to gather firewood. We walked across the soft, soggy, green land to reach the saddle which provided views of two large lagoons. Signs of volcanic activity are evident in the lava rock and clear blue lagoons. The remaining snow on La Brayani and surrounding mountains melts down and flows into the lagoon and then cuts through the valley in the form of a stream. People here predict that within 20 years there will no longer be water available in the Mucmoca Valley due to the rapid melting of the snow and lack of snowfall. We reached the pass at 15,520 feet, even Remigio and his uncle were breathing heavily, which made me feel better about my labored breath. Saw some vizcacha running around the highland talus slopes, they look like a cross between a rabbit and giant squirrel or house cat.

New Quechua words learned today:
pakarincama = hasta manana or see you tomorrow
himinaya = hola or hello
orpillay = gracias or thank you.

Backstrap Weaving

When Remigio and his mother Bascillia are ready to weave, they use a backstrap loom, a series of shaped sticks and ties on which a continuous warp and string heddles are used to produce a cloth with four finished edges. Weavers in the Cusco area attach the loom to a belt they wear, and tie the other end to an immovable object. They also use a four-staked loom. Backstrap weaving using a variety of techniques and designs can produce detailed and complex patterned cloth.

Most ancient fabrics in Central and South America were woven on a simple backstrap loom, of a type still in use throughout these areas. Other looms used in Peru are the vertical frame loom, and the horizontal loom fixed to the ground with stakes.
The width of the fabric woven on the backstrap loom does not exceed the distance across which the weaver could pass a shuttle from hand to hand. Two pieces of this uncut width with four selvedges could be sewn together to produce a larger cloth. Beginning at one end of the loom, the fabric is woven a short distance, then the loom is turned and the weaving started at the other end. As the warp was filled, the shed rod and heddles became ineffective, and the final weft insertion had to be done with a needle.

Spinning & Dyeing

Cold morning here in Mucmoca, which means "blooming flower" in the Quechua language. Once the sun appears over the mountains I move outside to receive its rays of warmth. Sitting outside sipping more mate de coca and watching these crazy quacking ducks that most likely will be consumed in the next few months. I am constantly amazed at the similarities I find between the Peruvians living up in the Andes and the Mongolians. They share some of the same food, cooking methods, and appearances.

This morning was my first day to learn the weaving process, which is quite involved. The weaving preparation process includes the gathering of wool, and its spinning, plying and dyeing. Many techniques and designs that exist today have survived two thousand years of being handed down from older to younger weavers. The people of the Andes have always utilized materials from their environment in order to survive in their harsh mountainous landscape. For thousands of years, clothing for warmth and protection has been made from animal fibres. Before the conquering Spanish arrived, highland peoples herded llamas and alpacas, using their wool for weaving cloth, braiding ropes, and other needs. Today these practices continue in some areas. Sheep, which were introduced to the highlands by the Spanish in the 1500s, are also used for making cloth as well as knitting.

Often I see people of the Andean highlands walking along footpaths and roadways whirling their puchkas (drop spindles) before them as they spin the wools, cottons and alpaca that become some of the most vibrant and complex weaving. Spinning is one of several stages in the preparation of wool for weaving or knitting.

Dyeing of the wool is done after the first spinning. The spun wool is placed a a pot of dye and then laid out ot dry before being spun a second time. All colors come from the surrounding enviornment. There does seem to be a movenment to use more natural dyes and avoid the synthetics. The color red is obtained from the female cochineal insect Dactylopius coccus, which lives on the nopal cactus. Yellow comes from lichen and taro trees of coastal valleys in Peru. Black is obtained from logwood and green comes from vaious plants. Blue is more difficult to find they use flor de tarhui and also turquoise and lapis azul, Indigo is also used in Peru.

Some info on COCHINEAL (Dactylopius coccus):
A brilliant red dye is produced from cochineal insects, which feed on the prickly pear cactus (Opuntia) - in particular, the species called nopal. The insects manufacture a rich maroon pigment and they store this pigment in body fluids and tissues. The dye properties of cochineal were discovered by ancient indigenous groups who would dry the female insects in the sun, and then grind the bodies to produce a powder. Depending on the mordant used, dyers could achieve not only beautiful crimsons and pinks, but also near-black and even purple shades. To produce one pound of cochineal powder, it took 70,000 dried insects. An acre planted with nopal cacti yielded 100 to 150 kg of cochineal powder.

Up up up to the weavers

After visiting the school Remigio (the weaver) and I hiked up to his mother's house where I would be spending the next week learning about traditional weaving techniques. We started hiking up the tight valley from about 12,400 feet, where the school is located. I started off feeling great, not much pain in the foot and lungs were feeling like they could get plenty of O2. As we approached 13,500 feet I could start to feel the altitude and my steps became smaller and less energetic, my pack heavier. Trying to keep up with Felipe (Remigio's nephew who I followed) proved to be challenging and humbling experience at 14,000 feet. Felipe's feet moved across the terrain like a mountain goat and he did not seem to be breathing. Remigio passed along a handful of coca leaves and told me to put them in my mouth, it would, he said, "make me feel better and alleviate all troubled thoughts." The coca leaves tasted rather earthy but wiped out my headache instantly. I think I could get into chewing these on a daily basis. At 14,700 feet we approached some rock homes with smoke bellowing out the cracks and thatched roof, this is where I would be spending the next 7 days.

Once we stopped moving my body experienced a deep chill, I quickly dug through my pack to find my down jacket. We sat outside the house on the dirt and ate roasted potatoes from a dirty bowl. There are over one hundred varieties of potatoes in Peru. The wind picked up and it soon began to snow. We took it inside, Remigio showed me where I would be sleeping which was in a different house from his mother's where all the cooking happened. It was cold and dark inside and he reached for alpaca and sheep skins to place on the rock ledge or bed. He pulled out a candle, I could see more of my room, although I wish I hadn't. There was mouse poop in every crack and along the walls and the blankets he generously gave me smelled like old dirty feet. I got my stuff situated and went to join everyone in the main house. The houses are about 300 to 400 square feet and usually one family lives in one rock home. The main house was built by Remigio's great-great-great grandfather. The family left during Spanish occupation and returned to the house along with other people in the valley (there are about 10 families that live in the entire valley) to live in a community cooperative where all the families own the land and watch out for each other. Inside the house only Quechua is spoken and Remigio translates what is said into Spanish for me.

I have been putting some interesting things in my stomach. First the day started off with some Chicha made from fermented cebada or barley. This chicha had a much sweeter taste than that from the Urumbamba Chicha. Next on the day's menu was about 10 different types of roasted potatoes, coca leaves, mate de coca (coca tea), and cuy (guinea pig). And I think that's about all my stomach could handle for the day.

Night arrives quickly down here, by 5pm it is getting dark and much colder. Inside the main house food and tea are being prepared and the air is thick with smoke. The smoke burns my eyes, but I must sacrifice my eyes for warmth. I hear a chirping sound coming from under the beds, and see a small rodent dart out into the open area. I see another furry rat like figure frantically dash out and run back under the bed. These are the guinea pigs which live in their homes and are eaten occasionally. Remigio's family has about 8 guinea pigs living with them and they are their main source of protein. After dinner I walked outside to the hole in the ground to relieve myself and brush my teeth under the stars. Looking up at the sky made me realize that I am far away. The constellations are unrecognizable and foreign, but the Milky Way seems so close, I almost feel like I am viewing the stars through a telescope. There is no moon visible tonight allowing me to see millions of stars and galaxies. I stare at the southern cross knowing that I won't see it again unless I venture back down here across the equator. I wait until I see a shooting star, make a wish and go to bed.

School Visit

A full day of travel to get to the trailhead which leads to the weaver family in Mucmoca. At the base of the trailhead is a school where I spent a few hours visiting. The closest town to the school is Pitumarca, not many cars found here, so it took me awhile to arrange a ride from Pitumarca to the school.

The kids here walk or ride their bikes to school. Some kids have a 2 hour walk back home from school everyday climbing 2,000 feet. All kids where the same simple sandals and their feet look much older and worn than the rest of their bodies. Quechua is the students' first language and they have Spanish or Castillian classes as well. The school of Labraco houses preschool to the US equivalent of 6th grade. About 75 students attend this school from March to December.

I gave each class a disposable camera with instructions to take pictures of their homes, landscape, people, etc. My plan is to collect the cameras after my week with the weavers and mail the photos back to them in addition to displaying their photos at my school. In return I will have students at my school in the US take photos which we will mail to the kids of the Labraco school. I also asked the students to draw/paint a picture depicting their daily life with the idea of doing an art exchange with my students in the US. The students were excited to receive the art materials which I donated to the school.

got salt?

Took a moto taxi down the valley from Urubamba to hike up to the salt pans of Salinas. About an hour hike uphill, wishing I had my mountain bike to avoid walking on my broken foot and for downhill entertainment. The salt pans here have been used for salt extraction since the Inca times. A hot spring from the top of the valley releases a small stream of heavily salt-laden water, which is diverted into salt pans and evaporated to produce salt.

Karaoke with Guinea Pig & Microbrew

My last night in Urumbamba involved eating the fine Peruvian delicacy of "Cuy" aka Guinea Pig. Cuy was once eaten by Inca royalty. Today it is eaten for important occassions in the Andes and Shamans are known to inspect the entrails in efforts to diagnose disease in humans. Prior to dinner I went for a glass of Urumbamba's homebrew or "chicha" which is a mild corn beer dating back to pre-Columbian times. Chicha is brewed in huge urns in highland villges and sold in LARGE glasses. The fermentation process begins with chewing the corn. It tastes sour and is considered by some to be hygienically questionable (suppose that depends on if the person chewing the corn has any communicable disease). The evening was topped off singing Beatles songs on the Karoke machine at a local bar.

Lima to Cusco to Sacsayhuaman

Staying in Cusco for a couple of days before heading out to do a ceramics workshop. Hiked up to Sacsayhuaman from Cusco with Edwin, his kids, and the family dog Whiskey. The name Sacsayhuaman is Quechua which means 'satisfied falcon.' Quechua is the indigenous language of the highlands. The site is an immense Inca ruin that has religious and military significance. Only 20% of the original structure remains, it was torn down by the Spaniards who pilfered rocks from the site to build their own homes and cathedrals. Inca stonemasonry is incredible, famous for the "Inca fit" cut rocks are placed so snug that nothing can be slipped into the joins between stones that often weigh many tons. Some of the stones weigh over 300 tonnes.

Ceramics in Urumbamba

Took a public bus from Cusco @ 11,000' to Urumbamba @ 9,500' where I am studying with Henry Morales Baca, a local ceramic artist. Spent the morning working on the wheel, which was a bit challenging. The afternoon I spent paging through Henry's books on Inca iconography. Henry comes from a long lineage of ceramicist, and still uses traditional techniques. He travels to the Urumbamba river valley to collect his clay, which is taken back to the studio and mixed with sand and water. A wood fired kiln is used to fire his pieces and the glazes, Henry makes himself using insects, plants and fruits.

United States to Peru

I received a grant from the Fund for Teachers to travel to Peru to study the Andean textiles and ceramics. I created my own intinerary and spend part of my summer living in the Andes with local families learning about their culture. It was an amazing experience which I will be sharing with my students upon my return to the United States.

Fund for Teachers is a foundation whose mission is to enrich the professional lives of school teachers by providing recognition and opportunities for renewal thereby improving their classroom practice and benefiting their students on a daily basis.

Fund for Teachers meets the need of "individualized" learning for teachers by supporting professional development of their own design. The Fund provides fellowship grants directly to teachers, with more than three years of experience, to support their professional learning during the summer. Their experiences come in many forms, but share the purpose of better teaching. Ultimately, the Fund believes that by experiencing the potential of their personal and professional learning, teachers in turn inspire potential in their students.

Fund for Teachers grants are awarded to teachers who work with students in grades Pre K – 12. To be selected, interested teachers must submit a proposal that details how their summer fellowship will make them a better teacher and how their improved skills or capacity will be implemented in the classroom, benefiting students, curricula and school. FFT Fellows are required to document their experience and provide a reflective report and evidence of how they will use the experience to inform their classroom practice. Teachers are accepted based on the quality and merit of their application as judged by a committee.

Nikita

Nikita disappeared Sunday evening on Sunshine Canyon. 30 minutes had passed before I heard her bark a few times (nothing out of the ordinary) until I went out to feed her some leftover dinner scraps. She was nowhere within calling distance, one hour went by, 2, the sun came up and still no sign of the "naughty" Nikita. My guess is that a mountian lion nabbed her and she became part of the food chain. It's still hard to believe and more difficult not knowing what exactly happened to her.

NIkita lived a very exciting and adventurous 12 years. She skied numerous peaks (including the steep & cruxy, therefore aptly named Dead Dog Couloir, off of Torreys), she came along on some great fishing trips, amazing trail runs, and way back in the day epic long mountain bike rides. Well, I can only hope that she is now peacefully resting her tired old bones out in the forest, where she belongs....forever.

Broken Foot

I broke my foot on june 15 delaying my trip to South America.

How did Jessica break her foot:
a.) climbing a tree to save her neighbors cat and fell.
b.) learning to skateboard in the boulder skate park.
c.) getting out of bed to answer the phone.
d.) descending catus ridge on her mountain bike.

Beware of Dog & Owner

Bit in the quad while riding, by a mean vicious dog at the finish of the red shack ride into 4 mile canyon. The dog owner has the same disposition as his furry companion.