Ski Trainiacs

March 25, 2012

Geardog and I have had an eventful season for training. We haven’t had an actual search and rescue callout in months, which I suppose is good news for the public. But for us, it means that we have to stay sharp by training a lot. One of the ways we do that is to put together mock missions and act them out as if they are real, like we do in the Interagency training I told you about from a few months ago.

Another chance we get to run a mock mission is on an event called the Ski Train. The Ski Train itself is a social event put on by the Alaska Railroad and the local Nordic ski club. Ticket buyers get to ride the train 4 hours north of Anchorage, ski around and explore for four hours, then ride the train back. Naturally the ski club and the Alaska Railroad would prefer it if no one got lost or left behind, so somewhere alone the line the Nordic Ski Patrol started organizing a Ski Train safety team and inviting other SAR organizations to play along.

They run it full-scale; with an incident command staff, medical responders, search dogs, and ski patrollers providing safety patrol and response to the almost 800 skiers who pour of the train (and given the amount of alcohol they consume, I mean this utterly literally) and scatter into the woods. This year we had five search dogs and about 33 human searchers including the command staff. Field resources like myself and Geardog were assigned an area to patrol and we headed out to enjoy the day.

My strike team (me, Geardog, and Eric the Ski Patroller) were assigned to go up to the highest point and patrol that zone, and do a sweep when it was time to head back to the train. It was a bit of a haul and all uphill, and our heavy packs made us dread the ascent, so we were happy to catch a ride 2/3 of the way on the back of snowmachines the safety team had brought along. As seems to happen every single time I get snowmachine transport, one of the machines got stuck in the first two minutes of the journey. So I sat on the other machine with Geardog while everyone else ran to help out.

While I was sitting there – and bear in mind it was about 11:30 in the morning – I saw a lone skier staggering back towards the train. Wobbling, weaving, knees buckling. Sounds dramatic, but I know a drunk when I see one so I didn’t intervene. The gentleman veered off the trail and seemed utterly puzzled to encounter fresh snow under his skis instead of a packed trail. He opted to remove his skis but was so inebriated he couldn’t do it. He stood there, swaying, trying to trigger the release mechanism with a ski pole, for the entire ten minutes it took my team to get the snowmachine unstuck. Why it’s fun to get that hammered first thing in the morning is way beyond my understanding. Luckily our zone was the farthest out and took some effort to reach, so the drunks couldn’t get out there. We would have a drunk-free day, at least until we returned to the train. I felt for the teams who had to patrol the closer-in areas and deal with all the drinking, though they didn’t seem to mind much.

Riding on a snowmachine with a canine can be challenging. The dog keeps my hands full so I have no way to hold on. It’s like riding with no hands holding a fifty pound sack of flour that I really, really care about. It’s cold and can be difficult for a dog. It can be scary at times and I always have to have a bailout plan and a way to toss my dog clear if there’s a rollover. If there’s a “sissy bar” to lean on then it’s a lot easier, but neither of the machines had one. I had to grip with my legs, wedge my boot under the running board, and once grab a hunk of my ski patroller sled pilot’s jacket – right on the big white cross – to stay on. We were delivered to the midway point without much incident, though, and by then were happy to hike the rest of the way.

While we were up top, the weather started to clear which was a nice change from the dreary grey skies we started with. All too soon, we had to head back to be on time for the 4pm train departure.

Getting all the people back on the train is a time consuming task. The safety teams were assigned a train car to monitor and had to make sure that every single person was in their assigned seats. This was my first Ski Train and I’d been told that it’s always a challenge to find all the people and make sure they are on the train. Sure enough, we spent about 30 minutes paging people, locating them, and getting them back to where they should be. During that time I listened to the Alaska Railroad radios because they were having trouble starting one of the engines because the flywheel was stuck, and the suggestion being bandied about was to whack the offending part with a sledgehammer. There was no way I was going to miss watching the train being jump started by a sledgehammer.

The real solution, though, was simpler – they just had to push the dead engine down the track a little ways with the live engine, and the articulation of the track would unjam the stuck flywheel. No sledgehammer necessary, to my disappointment.

We did have a little excitement on the way back; the train came to a sudden halt (for a train) and we were told that the train had hit a moose and they had to go pull it off the front of the train. This is something that happens hundreds of times a year in Alaska and the Yukon, and it’s nobody’s favorite thing. The moose gets on the track and it sees the train coming so it runs, but it’s unable to realize that it should jump off the tracks into the soft snow and let the train go by. Instead it runs away on the packed track and is inevitably run down by the train. The drivers try everything they can to avoid it and will even use emergency braking measures, but many times it’s unavoidable. While we were waiting and watching the unfortunate animal get pulled off the front of the engine, one of the train workers told me that last week they’d hit seven moose in one night. Undoubtedly the heavy snowpack this year has made for more starving moose seeking refuge from wading in the snow on the train tracks.

The day from there was uneventful, but I was glad I’d opted to drive north and meet the train in Wasilla, which saved me from another hour and a half of sitting on the train. Even with that time-saving measure, it was a long day and both Geardog and I were beat.

We had a great time getting to know the Nordic Ski Patrol and working with other dog handlers from our region. I’m thinking that next year I might want to go, leave the canine at home, and be a snowmobile driver for the day instead – that did look fun. With a dog, you’re pretty much stuck with your dog all day which is great, but zipping around on a motorized sled for a few hours looks pretty fun, too.

Thanks Nordic Ski Patrol and Alaska Railroad for having us and for putting on a great event that helps local search and rescue teams stay prepared for real emergencies!

Internet-Powered Gear Rumors

March 20, 2012

I love how you can tell what’s being discussed in the gear world – and by that I mean on Internet forums – by the questions I get about my gear. Right now whether my Dynafit bindings do well at the resort is a hot topic whenever I get on the chair lift. Last year in Durango it was all about whether my full suspension 29er mountain bike gives me any trouble (and I even got that question here in Anchorage so I know it’s a tenacious rumor. The guy in Anchorage watched me climb a steep hill and then asked me if I didn’t think my bike was bad at climbing. Sigh….).

It’s funny. People ask me those things but they don’t want my answer. They just want to show off their gear knowledge, scraps they’ve likely gleaned from the internet or the bro at the bar, and I think they love it when I don’t give them the answer they want, so they can disagree with my assessment, essentially telling me I’m wrong. “They do fine,” I say about my bindings. “There’s a learning curve to use them but once you get the hang of it, you won’t have any trouble.”

“Nope,” they reply. “I just wouldn’t trust them.”

Er. OK. Why ask, then?

Well, let’s think about this. If I’m using the gear, is it likely that I hate it? That I’m using it because it sucks? Sheesh. But that doesn’t matter. They don’t want to hear that my Dynafits do just fine at the resort or that I don’t have trouble with them. They tell me I’m wrong when I tell them I like my FS 29er. It’s hilarious. The amount of misinformation that is bouncing around the gear world is pretty funny. And people really get into it; they listen to some faceless person typing on a message board.

I guess you’re listening to a faceless person running a gear blog right now, so I shouldn’t make too big a deal out of it. And I like asking people about their skis on the chairlift; it’s a good icebreaker and usually I’m genuinely interested. But I’d never tell them that they are wrong to think their skis are good. Imagine how this would go:

“How do you like your boards?”

“Oh, I love them, they’re really fun, I’m having a blast today.”

“Really? Because I hear those skis are just terrible. I can’t believe you’re having a good time on those pieces of shit.”

No. That doesn’t work. But people do it ALL THE TIME. It’s so weird. What’s the deal?

Catching Up

March 8, 2012

Ever find yourself just behind on stuff? My technique for catching up includes going on vacation. So now I’m REALLY behind. Blog posts about nothing much in particular are not high on the to-do list. However I feel that there has been a lot going on so I decided to sum up a few recent events in a catch-up post.

1. Search and Rescue Training

Twice a year all the SAR organizations in Southcentral Alaska get together and send off a huge two-day event we call “interagency training.” I love this event and look forward to it every time. It’s always something new and exciting and involves helicopter rides and snowmachines and lots of people I have never met before. This year I caught a few photos of one of the other dog handlers loading in the helicopter.

Soon after, I begged the pilot to let me ride along when he went up and landed on a cornice to retrieve the radio repeater. I have never flown in that helicopter without a dog and it’s always been very gentle and careful flying so as not to upset or dislodge the canine. This time, sans Geardog, we flew up sedately and picked up the gear but then, stone-faced, our pilot took us on a “map the earth” ride around the Hatcher Pass mountains and it was SO AWESOME I smiled for days and days. He pretended it was all in a day’s work but I bet it’s pretty cool to be the hero for a helicopter full of girls who think you’re a badass.

2. Lots of snow.

Anchorage is very very very close to having it’s record snowfall ever in all of time the less than hundred years we’ve been keeping track. At this point we all want more snow so we can break the record. Why go through all this if we aren’t going to be number one in the end? March is typically our heaviest snow month so I think we have a good chance of making it happen. Unfortunately, though, I literally have no more room on my property to put any snow. My snowblower can’t throw it high enough to clear the berm and it just hits the face and slides back down into my driveway. I had to plow some paths in the yard for my dog so he can relieve himself. I’m not sure what’s going to happen if we get one of those epic 2-3 foot storms in March. Still. I really want that record.

3. Belize Part 3

I’m still supposed to write this up. Well I’m not gonna, I’m going to sum it up instead. Belize is expensive, all the things to do cost money, and I’m too cheap to pay $40 to ride a tube through a cave on a river by myself. I mean, it’s probably cool but not really a solo activity. So I rode my motorcycle around a lot, and then I got a little bored with that (actually my ass just got tired of sitting on that not-built-for-comfort motorbike) so I learned to scuba dive which was very rad. Then I travel-hacked my way back to Anchorage, avoiding every single layover to arrive home 16 hours ahead of schedule. I felt excellent about this since I’d had to sprint the entire length of the Atlanta airport several times, wearing a backpack which was quite heavy due to its surprisingly dense load of Belizean banana bread, to exhaust all options in my attempt to avoid double-digit layovers. The last flight that closed its doors in my face was staffed by kinda sympathetic agents who said “you should have gone for that other flight. But you’ll never make it, it leaves in 11 minutes from A6.” I looked at my current gate – E32 – and knew they were right but dammit, I was gonna try. So I RAN as fast as I could and by the way it’s REALLY far between those gates, jumped over people on the escalator (stand to the right or don’t complain when I step on your suitcase to get over you) and caught the flight. I was out $50 for the change fee but there was a medical emergency on board during the flight that I assisted with, and in return for being a decent human the airline gave me $50. Even steven.

4. Belize Part 3, Section 2

But there were some cool things that didn’t cost a ton of money to do. The Belize Zoo is really good, worth a visit for certain. You get really close to lots of cool animals that live in their natural habitats in the zoo, and they’ve all been rescued from bad situations so it’s a very touchy feely (not literally unless you pay lots more to touch the jaguar’s feet, seriously) zoo. I also greatly appreciated lots of the hikes that ended in waterfalls and swimming holes.

5. Making new friends and doing new things

This one I am really going to write up with a little more detail. But I just got back from a sweet trip to Whitehorse, Yukon to ride with other women fat bikers and it was awesome. Very cool to finally meet people in real life that are usually just images and words on a screen. I have been making an effort to do more traveling in my little arctic section of the world and it’s been paying off a lot. Saying yes to things is pretty much the theme for the year, so I’ve been traveling a ton but finding some real gems that for whatever reason I never paid attention to before, and with that comes with meeting most excellent people. My adventures have also led me to discover that those you least suspect might actually share your passions so you can have fun new adventures with old friends too. I look forward to a continuation of these trends throughout 2012 which I must say is an outstanding year so far.

6. I’m going to Hawaii

If you’re Alaskan and you utter the words “I’ve never been to Hawaii” you will be met with this expression:

It is un-Alaskan to not go to Hawaii. It’s just part of the deal of living here, because it’s the easiest warm place to get to, due to the direct flights and all. I just have always had other trips to do and never made it to Hawaii.

So finally I have been invited to Hawaii and I’m going to be able to cross off the lone occupant of my “unvisited states” list. I’m pretty excited about this as you can tell. Best of all I am actually going to visit another cool chick and ride bikes and hang out which is always a nice way to see a place.

7. People are coming to visit me

My friend Brandon and his wife Jill agreed to subject themselves to a whirlwind tour of Alaska this summer and I’m bursting with excitement over it. You’d think that more people would come to visit me in Alaska but instead people mostly just talk about it and say they “really really want to come to Alaska someday” but they never do. So getting the “we bought our tickets!” text was a really happy moment for me. I am looking forward to showing my friends everything I love about Alaska. This also means I have to move all of my weights out of my spare room so they have a place to sleep, but that’s okay, it’s really just an extra workout.

8. Great actual quotes from recent times. Nope, you don’t get to know the contexts.

“I’m actually gonna have to learn to skate ski. It will be a terrible day when I’m one of those wanky cross country skiers.”
“Oh ho, look at this, Snickers bars are coming to me.”
“Aw, but we’ve done well with bathroom condoms, haven’t we, baby?”
“Don’t be so negative, it’s not ‘all ice’ underneath. There’s rocks, too.”

9. Upcoming Posts

What I Did On My Yukon Vacation
Why Bike Fitting is Bullshit
Guest Post from Mrs. North of Sixty: Women’s Bike Shorts – Warning Graphic Content

10. The other half of the year is here

Yesterday the sun had heat in it for the first time in months so Geardog and I climbed up the ridge behind the house to enjoy a little warmth. Of course today it’s back to being single digits but the warm days are coming.

Wait, Am I On A Date?

February 27, 2012

This is the next chapter in my outdoor dating series. Is this a series? I keep writing about it, so I guess so. Today I want to talk about something that seriously can’t happen only to me. This has to be a phenomenon or at least something common: The Non-Date Date.

Here’s how it goes:

Most outdoor pursuits require a partner for maximum radness. Safety, company, picture-taking, drive-sharing, gas-money-paying, load carrying, beer-buying – all that contributes to said radness. So it’s not that unusual to cast a wide net when planning an excursion. “Are you busy tomorrow?” “Can you go skiing Friday?” “Want to climb Mt. Marcus Baker this weekend?” “Care for the Eklutna Traverse on our days off?” That is what my text message outbox looks like if you filter out the snarky comments and off-color jokes.

Sadly, all too often my trolling for partners demands kind invitations are gently rebuffed by my friends. “Sorry, family day.” “Can’t, haven’t seen my girlfriend in a week.” “Nope, stuck at work,” say my cadre of stalwart partners. In this way antisocialish (not really) me is forced to broaden my social circle; well, that and losing friends to Facebook makes me have to keep participating in societal rituals like parties and gatherings. Kidding! I like to socialize. Sometimes. Other times I just want to go fricking skiing!

So anyway, reaching out to new people evidently leads to ambiguity. An innocent “Want to go ski Turnagain tomorrow?” turns into a seething cauldron of awkwardness when, halfway up the first lap, I seem to be, unexpectedly, on a date.

It’s subtle, the dread that seeps in as awareness builds. Why did he bring cocoa for two in a cunning little two-cup set? That’s weird. Hmmm, he’s awfully deferential about the day’s objective and the line we’re going to ski. Is he new at this or what? Wait, it does seem as if he’s bothered to change his base layer for this excursion; he doesn’t stink to high heaven like my other friends. He hasn’t belched, peed, or hacked up a loogie once so far. At the top of the climb while I’m ripping skins he asks some awkward question about whether I have any siblings or where I was born or what my college major was. Oh shit, am I on a date?

Crap, I thought we were just going skiing. I just wanted a safety partner for the day, not to talk about my childhood and my hopes and dreams for the future. I don’t want anyone to Get To Know Me today, I just want them to spot me down this line that’s too big to ski solo. What do I do now? Chances are I’ve never thought of this person in that way. I certainly didn’t think of my ski day in that way. The first few dates are for going to dinner and concerts and art shows and hockey games and stuff like that, aren’t they? Who wants to go backcountry skiing on a first date? Not me. How did I not see this coming?

I honestly don’t know what you should do if you find yourself in this situation, so my advice today is for people who plan to turn their backcountry experience into a date: DON’T! In part this post was inspired by a comment from “Jon” on “How To (Properly) Meet Outdoorsy Women” in which I was thanked for encouraging would-be suitors to be up-front about their motives. It’s less confusing, don’t you agree?

Not that there’s anything wrong with falling in Like with an awesome outdoorsy woman. But you’ve got to handle your feelings in a productive manner that will likely lead to success. Moonily staring at her ass as she breaks trail on the skin track is not the way; she needs an alert and situation-oriented partner, not a drooling sack of hormones on skis. So how do you do this? What do you do if you like a woman who is into the outdoors? After you go read this and this and this, of course.

Done? OK, here’s some strategies for approaching this delicate situation:

1. Keep your feelings to yourself. If you figure out that you might Like this person while you’re doing outdoors stuff, great! Just save it for a more appropriate time, like when you’re done with the day, down from the mountains safe and sound, and are enjoying a beer in a relaxed environment. Then:

2. Ask her out. On a DATE. A real date, not a fake date disguised as something else. Accept the fact that your ski day was just a ski day and a date is something different. Just say, “Would you go on a date with me this weekend?” That’s impossible to misinterpret. Pretending your objective is a classic multi-pitch when really you’ve got your eyes on a classic make-out session is a) smarmy and b) probably just going to piss her off and make her uncomfortable. If you are interested in dating her, make sure she knows what she’s agreeing to. Nobody enjoys the sinking feeling of the realization that your bivvy partner is dreamily watching you sleep. In the meantime:

3. DON’T make your first move when you’re doing outdoors stuff. Dropping your hand onto your woman partner’s thigh on the chairlift is not the way to test the waters. Why? Because she can’t fricking get away from you! She’s trapped. If she’s feisty enough, she might push you off rather than tolerate your groping. If she’s nicer than that, you’re still moving into the dangerous waters of Alienation, Harassment, and Revulsion. Just don’t.

4. Be courteous, no matter what your intentions. You can bring along a summit beer or some extra snacks. That’s okay. Just don’t turn it to a Sound of Music-style picnic on a mountaintop UNLESS you told her ahead of time that’s what you were doing. Who knows, that extra PBR might score you points, so go ahead and offer. Just be mellow about it and don’t take a refusal personally. Treat her like you would any of your regular partners, and if you’re not courteous and kind to your regular partners, you might want to consider starting there before trying to date anyone anyway.

5. Be cool. If you’ve won your lady’s heart, or at least her passing interest, keep yourself together, man! Not every other skier is a potential threat to your future happiness; not every climber needs to see you flexing your lats to be discouraged from hitting on your lady; not every dude yelling “single” in the lift line wants to elbow you out of the picture. Maybe consider that the guy she just stopped to talk to is one of her FRIENDS, you know, someone she knew before you. The outdoors set is still a small community and if you act like an ass to someone near and dear to her, you’re not going to impress her. You’ll earn yourself a one-way ticket to Dumpville (population: you; right Homer?), and when the following weekend you find you’re stuck in your college roommate’s 1981 Subaru wagon, full of empty beer cans and dirty long-johns because he’s the only one who would go skiing with you, you only have yourself to blame.

Best of luck to you. Other reading material, if you didn’t follow the links:

Five Reasons To Date Outdoorsy Women
Guide to Outdoor Dating
How to Properly Meet Outdoorsy Women

Skills I Learned From Outdoor Retailer

February 23, 2012

Last night I had a networking event with other business owners in the city. We were all given hangtags to put around our necks with our name and company affiliation, then we had to get in a line and were given two minutes to give our spiel to the person across from us. Prime/sub-contractor speed dating, they called it. When we were moved down the line when time was up, I took a quick glance down at the name tag of the next person as they took their leave of the previous conversation partner, and greeted them by name. This never failed to awe the person, which was important because I was soliciting them for jobs. I saw how impressed they were that I knew their names, and I realized that this was I skill I’d honed at the Outdoor Retailer trade show. The quick sidelong hangtag glance is a move that you’ve got to perfect at the trade shows, for those familiar “Oh god who the hell IS that” moments before you’re faced with actually talking to the person whose name you’ve forgotten. Yes, it sucks when someone wears another person’s hangtag and then acts surprised when you call them by the wrong name, but what do they expect? It turns out it works really well when you are meeting someone for the first time, too. Those things should be required at all times; at work, at parties, on the ski lift…they’re so useful.

So, Outdoor Retailer: it can prepare you for real life, too. I even got to hug someone. A win all the way around.

Holidays For the Self-Employed

February 20, 2012

Everyone goes all nuts for holidays. “Wahoo, a day off!” they crow, to my annoyance. Holidays are the bane of my existence. I wish they didn’t even exist. Why? Because, as a self-employed person, they do nothing for me. When you’re self-employed, you don’t get holidays off or paid vacations, but you do get freedom to do what you want, when you want it. As long as it’s not a holiday, that is.

Holidays are when all the people come out of the woodwork to run, bike, walk, lurk, loiter, and aimlessly wander the places that I usually have all to myself on the weekdays. I get up early, do my work, then have the rest of the blissfully people-free day to enjoy the outdoors. On holidays, though, they get invaded. Holidays are also when people travel, so I have to plan my travels around them. Trips are for getting away from the crowds, not traveling with them. The only good thing about holidays is that sometimes most of Anchorage leaves town for long weekends, leaving things rather nice and quiet. Mostly, though, holidays are annoying as hell because people aren’t on their usual schedules so I can’t avoid them by going out to play while they are at work.

You might be wanting to choke me right now and saying that you wish you had my freedom. Well, if you can give up things like paid vacation days, paid sick days, free professional development, a regular paycheck, and health insurance, you, too can have this kind of freedom. It’s all a trade-off. Me, I like the freedom and the ability to enjoy the outdoors without the crowds. I forget sometimes how many people there are on the planet because most of them are at work while I’m out doing stuff. Every now and then I make a mistake though, like I did today.

Today I ventured out despite the holiday (Presidents Day – what is it for? Yeah, I could look it up, but if they make a whole holiday for it then maybe it should be important enough that we already know?) and I regret it. My usual afternoon solitude was invaded by the following:

• A dude in the parking lot dropping serious trou right in front of my truck. And I mean right in front. I know how intimate this guy is with his razor, let’s put it that way. After waving his ass (and sack) around for a few minutes, he turned around and apologized. “Oh sorry about that, I didn’t see you there,” he said. Oh sure. The giant four-door truck that pulled up next to you didn’t clue you in to the presence of another human, I get it.
• The two fat-tire bikers who, despite insisting upon going in front of running-shoe clad me at an intersection, couldn’t bike at a pace faster than a slow jog. Not that big a deal, I just ran along behind them. That’s what you get when you’re a slowpoke – someone breathing down your neck. Maybe pull over so I can pass you? Just an idea.
• Mr. Ass again, coming up behind me on his fat tire bike (seriously, it’s time to administer personality tests before letting someone buy those things), screaming obscenities at my dog who was following at my heels. One might think that Mr. Ass just doesn’t like dogs, but Mr. Ass of course has his own dog which evidently is immune to whatever Mr. Ass objects to about dogs. I was so surprised that I just stared at him while he made some excuse about how many times his dog has gotten its ass kicked by other dogs, so he’s all alarmist now. I can’t help but think shrieking like a banshee in angry terror might possibly be contributing to his dog’s mindset. In any case, some people shouldn’t ever leave their homes, holiday or no, and Mr. Ass is one of them.
• The trail version of the climbing gym’s Absent Parent who managed not to notice my presence until every single one of her kids and their dog were blocking the trail right in front of me. She said nothing as I sorted through the milling crowd of kids. I was disentangled and moving on down the trail when Absent Parent decided to start yelling at her kids and dog to get out of the way. Passive aggressiveness? Slow reflexes? Sheer ignorance? I’ll never know.
• Woman with three Beagles on leashes who, after jumping and screaming in fright when I came around a corner, took at least thirty seconds to sort out her dogs so that I could pass. Two of her dogs, see, were aggressive and she had to kneel on one and choke the other (I’m not kidding, here) to keep them from going after us as we passed. Does it make sense to bring three leashed dogs onto a singletrack snow trail anyway? No. It does not.

Not one of these people were any happier to see me than I was to see them. They clearly didn’t want the inconvenience of other humans around, but what did they expect? They had broken the sacred code, the one that keeps cube dwellers apart from people who spend their work days answering emails in their pajamas. I guess I broke the code, too, by venturing from my cave home office on a holiday. To think that all those people were getting paid to ruin my outing…. I wave the white flag now! No more holiday adventures for me. I’ll wait ’til they all go back to work.

Belize, Part 2: In Which I Learn Lessons

February 17, 2012

So most of you know that I took off on this trip without planning ahead, because to me it’s more relaxing to just go with the flow. Well, it’s no surprise that it makes for a stressful trip sometimes. But to me, that’s relaxing. Weird, huh? Not every trip has to be like this, but this one was strictly for fun so what the hell.

When last I left you I had my motorbike but no idea where I wanted to go. I had learned in the first 20 hours in the country that I wouldn’t be able to take the bike over to Guatemala (really – you just can’t. I can do a lot of things but one thing I can’t do is bend border rules in Central America. A bitter pill, but even I know when to quit) so rather than take yet another travel/bike finding day to get over there, I opted to just stay in Belize and find stuff to do. It’s a small country but it’s not that small; I was sure I could fill nine days with explorations.

Emma suggested that I take the bike down to Placencia for the first day so I could get a feel for it on a shorter trip. That seemed sensible and, after deflecting Emma’s attempt to hook me up with another bike renter for the day (why? why? She’s right that sometimes it’s more fun to ride with someone else, but I wasn’t in the mood for company so I declined) I headed south. I learned a lot of stuff during the two hour trip to Placencia. First, I learned that while my little dirt bike was just great for the washed out back roads, it really wasn’t the best thing ever for highway miles. Part of the reason for this is that it wouldn’t go over 65mph. Really, it just would not. That turned out to be all right, because Belizeans really are into their speed bumps. They are everywhere. Not one curve in the road is spared; there are speed bumps before and speed bumps after. On a motorbike, that’s a little bit of a bummer so I learned I was going to have more fun on the back roads.

I also learned that riding in shirtsleeves, while usually not all that advisable for safety reasons, has unforeseen hazards as well. A rain squall on the way into Placencia washed off my sunscreen and, though, I reapplied later, I got sunburned in weird patterns that persist as I write this. Most people come home from tropical vacations looking tanned and lovely; not me, I look like I have a skin condition in the shape of a T-shirt.

Further, I found that my decision to leave panniers at home was a poor one, as there’s a reason no one rides in a backpack. The reason is that it sucks. My right shoulder (throttle arm) was killing me by the end of the ride. My idea of touring around, staying in a different place every night, wasn’t going to work. Lesson: if you even remotely think you’re going to be traveling by motorcycle, just bring your stuff.

And by “bring your stuff,” I mean bring ALL your stuff, especially your helmet. I have three motorcycle helmets, one for every occasion. I didn’t want to carry one all that way, though, so I opted to borrow one from Emma. This seemed okay, until it got dark and I had to take off my sunglasses and use the visor for wind protection. Turns out that people don’t care for rental gear too well and the visor on the helmet was so scratched up I could barely see through it. I keep my own helmets in velvet bags and protective cases; fussiness that evidently is well-founded – the lights of oncoming cars were blinding as they diffused through all the scratches. I flipped the visor up – and my eyes immediately filled with bugs. Visor down – can’t see. Visor up – covered in bugs. Oh, not cool, not cool at all. The remainder of that little day trip was a bit harrowing – there was just no way to see very well so I had to go really slow and just not think about all the bug parts that were filling the corners of my eyes.

So not only was I not going to be able to stay in a new place each day, I wasn’t going to be able to ride at night. Okay…circumstances were limiting my options but seeing as how that was just going to make decision making easier, I was fine with that. Just in case you’re concerned after reading the above, rest assured that everything worked out just fine and I had a great time.

I’m not going to pretend that the lesson learning was limited to that first day, though. Here are some other “learning experiences:”

1. Even though Belizeans are nice and helpful people and were always keen to hold my helmet for me while I went and did stuff, it pays to double check that the person who so helpfully stashes your helmet behind the desk didn’t accidentally put it on an anthill. Extra points: double check before you put it back on your head.

2. Keeping track of your motorbike key is a solid plan. A bike key is a small thing, much smaller than your car keys, so just dropping it into your pocket is sure to lead to, say, spending your evening turning a Chinese grocery inside out looking for the key that fell out of your pocket. Bonus hint: If there are boxes of nails lying around in the grocery, look there first.

3. Count on having people mess with your bike when you’re not watching it. For instance, it’s not likely to still be in neutral like it was when you left it. Nothing bad happened since I always fire it up clutch-in, but it’s a good reminder to always look anyway.

4. Yes, wearing your bikini under your pants is a great way to not have to carry stuff for the day, but don’t forget that the reason you’re wearing it is so that you can go swimming: riding in wet pants on a vinyl seat for three hours is not worth it. Just carry a bag.

5. When you have to shake your bike every morning to stir up the sediment in the gas tank so the bike will start, just do yourself a favor and buy the premium from then on. It’s cheap insurance that you’ll have a working bike the next day.

See, this trip was practically a free education. Well, not “free”. The other lesson is that Belize is a fairly expensive country. Good thing that plane ticket didn’t cost that much. In part 3 I’ll tell you about the excursions and all the rad things there are to do there so that you don’t have to fanny around, figuring it all out like I did.

The Luck Dragon Smiles: Belize, Part 1

February 13, 2012

Travel: not convenient, not cheap, sometimes not even fun, but almost always awesome. I keep these things in mind on my trips so that when I embark on a journey I can keep it all in perspective. I’m usually prepared for most things to go wrong and to not succeed in most things I try, because it’s travel and unless you hire a logistics expert or a guide, you just don’t know how it’s going to turn out. I rely a lot on Falcor to give me a hand, and I’m just pretty much ready to go it alone when he’s busy chasing bullies or what have you. This time, though, he was with me the entire way.

When I left for my trip to Belize, it was certainly a test of this ethos as said trip was unexpected and unplanned. I had bought the ticket because I happened across an irresistible airfare sale (less than $400 round trip from Anchorage to Belize City, thanks Alaska TravelGram).

I had a few months between buying the ticket and going on the trip to decide what I wanted to do. I didn’t get too far in planning because frankly I don’t like to plan trips and since I was flying solo I wouldn’t have to manage anyone else’s expectations so just going with the flow seemed just fine to me. I knew I wanted to rent a motorbike to get around so I wouldn’t have to rely on buses and taxis nor deal with parking and fueling a car (gas in Belize is very expensive), and was met with strong resistance about that idea. I am not kidding you that every single person I talked to about it told me it was impossible, since no one rents motorbikes in Belize, and that furthermore it was pointless since the roads are so terrible that motorcycling wouldn’t be possible at all.

Well, if you want me to do something, just tell me I can’t, and it will undoubtedly become my number one priority. Surely there was a way to rent a motorbike in Belize. Come on. SOMEONE will rent me a motorbike. Someone will lend me a motorbike, if it came to that, I was sure. Still, Internet research turned up nothing. Asking around turned up nothing but dire warnings. I was a little discouraged but I had confidence that I could make it work somehow, so I didn’t give up on the idea, but I did wonder how difficult it was going to end up being.

So I left for the trip not knowing what I would actually be doing. It was impossible to prepare for every eventuality without weighing myself down with stuff, so I left my riding gear at home (heavy and bulky) and opted to go light and fast and with just enough stuff to be prepared to do almost anything (you may choose to interpret this as being totally prepared to do anything really half-assed, and you’d be equally right).

Once my trip actually started, things just snapped into place in a way I’ve never experienced. My flights were kind of awful, with insane layovers in unfamiliar places. The first big one was a 13 hour overnight layover in Atlanta. When I bought the ticket, I figured I’d just cope, as I didn’t know anyone in Atlanta. But a few weeks ago, on the bus to the ski demo at Outdoor Retailer, I met photographer Andrew Kornylak. We chatted briefly and when I found out he lived in Atlanta, I suggested I look him up when I got there and maybe we could get a beer or something. Nothing like finding a local for a new city tour.

When I got off the plane in Atlanta, I had a text from Andrew telling me to meet him and some friends at a local pub. He suggested taking a taxi but, being me, I ignored that and hopped on the MARTA train instead, figuring it would be easy. When I stepped onto the train, familiar faces greeted me: a couple who had commented my fins at 7am in Anchorage that morning were sitting on the train in Atlanta! We’d been on the same connecting flights but didn’t know it. I chatted with them about where I was headed in Atlanta, and an alarmed lecture ensued about how I should not, COULD not, dared not walk to the bar. Take a taxi, take a taxi, take a taxi. It Is Too Dangerous To Walk. You’re not in Alaska anymore (I took slight offense to this. Do I look like I just fell off the muktuk truck?), this city is dangerous. This went on to the point that I got a little concerned about my plan.

The lecture was interrupted by a homeless man with a sign saying he was deaf and needed money. Before I could react, the woman I was chatting with launched into an extended conversation with the man via sign language. Whoa, unexpected. Turns out she is a teacher for the deaf. See, things were working out already, at least for the homeless guy who needed money. But how was I going to get to the bar in this Dangerous City of Violence and Murder? My phone was acting up so I couldn’t reach Andrew. Just then a young woman in surgical scrubs walked over and said she had overheard our conversation and since her car was parked at the hospital just across the road from the next MARTA station, I could get off with her and she would drive me to the bar. Perfect! The Luck Dragon approved of my vacation already.

My new pal, a traveling nurse who turned out to be considering a post in Alaska, delivered me to Andrew and company in short order and we had an enjoyable evening over beers and dinner. One of Andrew’s friends offered to put me up for the night, and even gave me his own bed while he slept, slumber party-style, on the futon in his room (we even stayed up late chatting and chatting…why do we give up [platonic] sleepovers after the seventh grade anyway?), and drove me to the airport in the morning. I flew out of Atlanta feeling like I’d already had a great vacation, and was even up a couple of new friends.

I had uncharacteristically booked my first night’s accommodation ahead of time, so I headed to Caye Caulker, an island north of Belize City, to check it out. I found myself in the company of a bunch of backpackers, who seemingly make up the entire economy of Caye Caulker. I stayed in a little bungalow just off the main drag on the caye and really loved it aside from the lack of hot water and the construction that was going on right next door, making for a poor night’s sleep. The rest of the day was spent wandering, eating, talking to people, and drinking Belizean beer, which really has no alcohol in it to speak of if you ask me. Though enjoyable and interesting, I really wanted to secure a motorbike and get on the move so I asked my host if she’d heard of anywhere to rent a bike. “Yes, in Hopkins,” she said immediately. I looked it up and bang! Motorbike rentals out of Hopkins. How had I not found this option before?

The next morning I was off like a shot for the mainland to make my way to Hopkins. I hopped a flight to Dangriga with the intention of taking a bus to Hopkins, but was met by a taxi driver who quoted a decent price for the drive so I went with him, shaving hours and hours off my trip. That’s one thing about Belize that I didn’t know at first but soon discovered – the people are awesome; friendly and trustworthy. It’s a safe country for the most part. People are respectful and kind and they want to help. Sure, male attention is pretty much the name of the game, but it’s friendly (really friendly, you know what I’m saying), not threatening.

The taxi delivered me to the doorstep of Alternate Adventures, run by Emma, a Spanish-Swedish girl who is completely rad. I admit that, thanks to the endless negativity from everyone I’d talked to about motorbiking in Belize, I was nervous about the roads but trusted what I’d seen so far – they had all been doable. Emma told me that I’d be fine, and that even though I had little to none off-roading experience (I ride sport bikes) that I’d soon get the hang of it. The bikes she had were light and small and pretty much perfect for learning off-roading. She went through the motorbike with me, handed me a helmet and the keys, and pointed me down the road. I was riding a motorbike in Belize!

So, less than 20 hours after my arrival in the country, I was at the limits of my prior planning. “Getting a bike” was as far as I’d gotten. Motorbike in hand, though, I was completely free. I was so stoked I couldn’t believe it. But I had no idea what to do with the ten days that stretched ahead of me. Answer: anything I wanted.

Solo Travel: Coping With Low Morale Moments

February 11, 2012

Independent solo travel is rad, like I said. Like everything, though, it’s got its ups and downs. I think low morale moments are the worst of the downs. You know what I mean – those times of struggle that, because they are bookended by awesomely exciting travel adventures, seem much more demoralizing than normal. The downswing is emphasized by the fact that you are On Vacation and if you’re not having fun every single second you feel like you’re doing it wrong. Not to mention that every time something doesn’t work out, you’re haunted by the nagging spectre of What You Should Have Done Instead.

When you’re traveling alone there’s no one to share your misery or cheer you up. You’re stuck with your own company and unless you’re good at dealing with these moments, you’re not going to enjoy being around yourself. As a fairly veteran solo adventure traveler, I have noticed that Low Morale Moments come with some regularity, usually after I’ve done something totally rad and, true to my “if a little is good, more is better” ethos, I’ve pushed the boundaries a little too much and ended up suffering. However, I’ve learned to cope with these inevitable downswings while traveling. Here are my tips when you find yourself having a pity party on your travels:

1. Drink. Seriously! You’re on vacation. Find a beautiful spot overlooking the glowing sunset waters and have a few drinks. Or, crouch in a dingy hidden corner with a view of the open sewage lagoon and make a drinking game out of predicting the number and style of honey buckets to be emptied. It will seem better after a few drinks, I promise.

2. Make a list. I love to beat myself up for doing things wrong, forgetting stuff, or making dumb decisions. Sometimes I make lists of these things to remind myself not to do it again. But I don’t want you to do that – no! That’s for professional self-flagellators like me. Instead, make a list of everything you did that was right, lucky, or just super cool. I have started doing this myself, immediately following the creation of the “fail list” and I’ve found that my list of plusses is always way longer than the minus list, and yours will be too. You’re an adventurer! Of course it will.

3. Go to sleep. Sometimes a reset is the best medicine. Have your drinks, make your list, then go to sleep. It will be better in the morning.

4. Embrace your circumstances. One of the big reasons for Low Morale Moments is that something didn’t meet our expectations. We planned out a trip and it didn’t go the way we wanted or the weather sucked or the drinks we were counting on to boost our spirits tasted like frog slime soaked in gasoline. If you’re an adventure traveler, chances are you’re in a new place (give yourself a plus one!) so you really didn’t know how it would be. Well, now you know, so enjoy it for what it turned out to be.

5. Make a plan. Ah, my favorite – action! Now listen. There’s really not anything we have much control over besides ourselves. In our familiar environments, we think we have control over stuff, but it’s an illusion. We just know our home bases well enough to have a good grasp of the alternatives at any given time. In an alien place, we’re back to square one when plans don’t work out, and we’ve got to figure it out from the beginning all over again. But that’s all right, it gives us something to do. Figure out what you don’t like about your situation and make a plan that might be better. Might! Don’t beat yourself up if it’s not better. You tried (plus one!) and you took action (plus another one!), call it a win.

If none of these ideas worked, I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe flash someone? Making people smile is a good bet for lifting your spirits, and flashing always makes people smile. Phone a friend? Phone home? Hell, GO home if you want. It’s your adventure, you’re in control (no you’re not, see #5). But seriously, it’s a Low Morale Moment. It’s just a moment! Even if it’s really dire and it’s an entire Low Morale Day, it’s just a day. It might suck now but it will be over soon enough and will probably make a great story.

10 Weird Things You’re Supposed to Do When You’re a Woman

January 30, 2012

I was putting on makeup the other day when I realized it’s totally bizarre that I’m expected to do that in preparation for a business meeting. Admittedly, even I look at my un-made-up face and think, “oh THAT won’t do” if I’m going somewhere important. Isn’t this WEIRD? When did our own faces become all wrong without a bunch of stuff put on them? This got me thinking about all the things we’re expected to do as women. All of those expectations seemed bizarre. When you’re female you are expected to:

1. Draw on your face with colored pencils. For men this is only for when your friends pass out drunk; then you get to draw on THEM. When you’re a woman, you have to do it to yourself. Every day.

2. Strap spikes to your shoes and balance on them. This makes you look “nice” if you’re a woman.

3. Change your name to say you love someone. When you really really really like someone you’re supposed to stop being yourself and start being someone different, symbolized by changing your name. Pointing out that women start out with their dad’s name and switch to some other guy’s name, so they never really have a name of their own, isn’t a groundbreaking observation, but it’s still weird. On the other hand, when else do you get the chance to get a new name so why not (unless your life love’s name sucks)?

4. Play hard to get. If you’re a woman and you’re approached for a date by someone you like, you are supposed to say “no”. Eventually you can say “yes” but then you have to cancel at least once and only sporadically respond to said person’s attempts to communicate with you. And this is how you’re supposed to treat a person you LIKE! Even when you’re an adult woman you’re still supposed to act like you’re all a bunch of kids chasing each other around on a playground. Weird.

5. Install paint on your fingernails which, weirdly, makes them more delicate rather than stronger (cuz you can’t mess up the paint, don’t ya know). Which serves no purpose. What? I notice that several weird things women are expected to do involve staining body parts unnatural colors. I’m not even going to mention that anal bleaching thing (though I just did).

6. Act like you can’t do all the things you can do. People always tell me to back off on my abilities so that others (well…men) won’t be intimidated, or they’ll feel needed, or whatever. As Madonna sang, “when you open up your mouth to speak, can you be a little weak.” Weird. Just because I can use a table saw doesn’t mean I don’t need help with other stuff; why isn’t it as charming to need help with the vacuuming as it is to need help with the framing of my new garage extension?

7. Plan your wedding when you’re in the second grade. “Every girl has a dream wedding in mind.” “As girls, we spend our whole lives dreaming of what our perfect dream wedding will be.” “All girls dream of their wedding day.” “Every little girl plays ‘bride.” I pulled those quotes from the top Google results for “wedding”. My personal favorite is “Girls start planning their weddings at age seven. Boys wait until the day before.” Ha! That does it, a man’s soul lurks in this X chromosome-laden body. Don’t get me wrong, I, too, would love to be a princess, but only because I want a kingdom to command, not because I want to put on a fluffy white glorified tutu, parade around in front of all my friends calling it “my day”, and force them to fight nearly to the death for the flowers I throw at them. Actually, you know, that does sound kind of fun.

8. Be willing and able to never go anywhere alone. If you’re female, there are men who want to hurt you. It seems that we’re stuck with that. Weirdly, though, rather than the general sentiment be “we should stop these people from hurting women” it’s “we should keep women from doing anything on their own.” I realize there’s a reason to do things for personal safety, but it really does seem as if all the energy goes into convincing women it’s too dangerous to go out on their own rather than convincing bad men that they belong locked up forever.

9. Take forever to get ready to go out. Ever had a climbing partner drop you off to change before dinner, saying he’ll be “back in an hour and a half”? An hour and a fucking half? No. If I’ve been climbing, I’ll be starving and need a burger and I’m not waiting no ninety minutes to get one. Leave the car running in the driveway; I’ll go put on clean underwear and some jeans and put on a beanie and I’m good to go. Is this about that colored pencils thing again? It’s not gonna happen when I’m hungry.

10. Not like sports or motors. You’re a girl, you can’t like baseball, you have to ease it up and make it “soft” ball. If someone asks you what kind of car you have you’re likely to respond “a blue one.” You won’t know how to change the oil or even change a tire. If you can, I refer you to #6, which describes how you’re supposed to pretend you can’t.

Bonus #11 – If you, too, think all the above expectations are weird, you’re gay. Look, I’ve no problem with my Sapphic sisters. Those chicks are fun as hell! But you don’t have to be a lesbian to be into motorcycles and short fingernails. It doesn’t matter if you are or not, it’s just the assumption that bugs me.

Once I got done writing this, I started wondering what weird things we expect men to do. I suspect that deep inside we’re all pretty much the same regardless of gender so I’m sure that men carry a burden of weird expectations too. I’m a woman, so I couldn’t answer that question, but I still wanted to know, so I asked Brendan Leonard of http://www.semi-rad.com to answer it for me. So here are:

10 Weird Things You’re Expected to Do When You’re A Man

Courtesy of Brendan Leonard, Man’s Man, Blogger, and King of Enthusiasm

1. Keep track of football scores/know the names of professional athletes. I don’t hate football. But a lot of football games take place during the hours that tend to be perfect for climbing and other outdoor activities – i.e., daylight. Thusly, I’m a little behind on who is playing for what team, and who is doing well. I mean, three hours is a long time to set aside on a weekend. Most movies aren’t that long. Sorry. I realize this is un-American. We’re going to have to find something else to talk about. Perhaps we can bro out about bicycles, or skiing, or The Departed? That would be great.

2. Know what’s wrong with a car. I don’t know what’s wrong with your car, I’ll just be honest here. If it has oil, coolant, gas, and air in the tires, and it’s not overheating, it should be running, and if it’s not, I don’t know what to tell you. I have a AAA card. They can help. Let’s call them.

3. Wear closed-toed shoes. These are my toes. They are not pretty. They hate socks. They like Chacos, which are the Air Jordans of Colorado, which is where I’ve spent the majority of the past six years of my life. Sorry if that’s “feminine.”

4. Own power tools. I own ice tools, an avalanche beacon, several ropes, and a whole collection of dinged-up cams and nuts and carabiners and all that stuff you use for rock climbing. I bought my first drill about 18 months ago, and have used it twice. When it comes down to taking care of a home, I don’t know how to do shit. But I can probably fix your bicycle, which I think is probably less masculine than mentioning that I need to run down to Home Depot and pick up a new rip saw. Actually, I don’t even know what a rip saw is. But I will build you a bomber rap anchor if needed.

5. Not talk about things other than sports, cars and power tools. Men are not supposed to talk to each other, unless we’re sitting next to each other in a bar or the front seat of an automobile. No sitting across from each other in a restaurant or coffee shop, just talking. If you want to talk to a male friend, go climbing together, or watch football, or at the very least, play pool. Preferably while drinking beer. But don’t, under any circumstances, get together just to talk to each other.

6. Not listen. Woman, please. I am watching the game.

7. Objectify women. Trust me, I love looking at beautiful women just as much as the next straight guy, but being put in situations where women are nothing but sex objects makes me feel dumber, and kind of sad for America. Please, take away my man card. Hooters, for example. If the food was really that good at Hooters, would the waitresses really need to dress like that? Beer billboards: If you drink Bud Light, this ad agency-hired model will definitely sleep with you. Sure. Cheerleaders: Are cheerleaders leading the cheers? No, the sports team is. When the team scores, the crowd cheers. When the cheerleaders come out, mostly men just stare at them and think about what they would look like if they somehow lost the tiny articles of clothing they are wearing.

8. Ride a horse. Just kidding, nobody expects you to know how to ride a horse anymore.

9. Not cry/be sad/emotional. Do men purchase Bon Iver albums? Yes they do.

10. Realize when women are attracted/interested in us. See Jill’s #4. If my life experience is at all similar to most men’s, we have no idea. We are clueless. I mean, seriously. Just say something. Don’t worry about being too forward. It’s refreshing, especially if you’re in your early 30s and have been wandering around totally ignorant since the eighth grade.

 

Thanks Brendan! See, people? We’re all the same. It’s just these weird expectations that make it so hard to get along. Next time you’re at a loss for what to do in a situation, remember, there are no hard-and-fast roles to which you must subscribe. Just be yourself. You’re going to have to do it anyway at some point so you might as well start now.

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