Do you ever look around in certain circumstances, as if, say, you just woke up, and wonder "Where am I and why am I doing this?"?
During some of the steeper climbs, at high altitude, carrying 45 pounds on my back, that particular thought flickered through my mind more than once, last week.
Just flickered, though.
Because I know, really, even without enough oxygen to spell my name correctly, exactly why.
This year, our little band of backpackers numbered four-plus-six. The plan was to cross over the Sierras from east to west. What to do about transportation home once on the other side, you might ask? So clever. Clay and John hatched a plan that called for two groups: an east-to-west team ("us") and a west-to-east team ("them"). Each would park a car at their trailhead and hike to the other team's trailhead. I had a special circumstance, however. 
Coming from the north, instead of south (San Diego), with the other nine, I had to make a creative alternate plan. I solved it by having Tom drive me to Colfax, 25 minutes away from home, to catch a Greyhound bus to Reno. Then, I found an Eastern Sierra Transit Authority bus that runs several times a week from Reno to Bishop, altogether about 8 hours of travel. The guys ("us"), then, picked me up in Bishop. In fact, they saw me on the moving bus and followed it to the station. Smooth.
[After we came out of the mountains on Sunday, the guys dropped me off at the Amtrak station in Fresno on their way south. With more than an hour to wait, I called my sister, Terry, who came over--she lives just a few minutes from there--and we had a nice little visit before I headed off to Sacto, where Tom picked me up. Cool bonus.]
"Us", this year, consisted of Clay, John, me and Doug Johnston, who joined up for the first time. "Them" was Jesse, John's son, and five of his good buddies.
We stayed in a motel Tuesday night in Bishop after some tasty Chinese carbon-loading. We started our journey next morning at the North Lake trailhead, a bit above 9000'.
I won't lie. Hauling myself and 45 extra pounds up the trail at altitude is difficult and I'm a big huffer and puffer. I'm never in quite the super shape I'd like to be for this, and I'm always carrying more pack-weight than I'd intended. I shaved off three pounds, this year, but had hoped to get it under 40. Ah, well. Next time.
Our 5-day plan was to hike over Piute Pass (11,423') to Florence Lake (about 7300'), some 23 miles west, where we planned to catch a ferry to get us to the other side of the lake where the boys had left the other car for us.
In between:
We camped on the edge of two gorgeous alpine lakes--Piute L. (10, 960') and Upper Golden Trout L. (roughly 10,960' also) and one fabulous river--South Fork San Joaquin. John is a passionate fisherman, all catch-and-release, unless we need dinner. Clay enjoys it, as well, but not quite to John's intensity (I call it "crazy!"). I think the tally for the week was John's 60-something to Clay's 10 or so.
We had four hiking days and one layover (for more hiking, of course). The longest stretch, by far, was the 7 1/2 hour, eleven-plus miles we did on the fourth day through the Piute and San Joaquin River canyons. More down than up, overall, but there was lots of up. Piute Pass, is an amazing, treeless viewpoint for the Glacier Divide--the highlight on day two. But we also went through damp, wildflower and aspen-heavy creek areas, giant green meadows, thick pine forest and steep rocky river canyons. Breathtaking, all of it.
Clay, the Chief Organizer, Map Czar and Food King, fed us well, including a tasty trout dinner on night three (to which he and John contributed the main course). On the first night, the guys cooked up steaks they had bought in Bishop and that they had frozen in the motel-room fridge overnight, thawing them during the hike up. John caught me a fish from the lake to have as an alternative. We eat a lot of instant oatmeal, granola bars, cheese sticks and tortillas, among other things. I can pretty much live on mozz. cheese sticks and tortillas indefinitely.
We met up with the younger set ("them") for one night (Friday) at Upper Golden Trout Lake. It had rained on us at Piute Lake, our first campsite. It snowed on them at the same site a few nights later, we heard. In the high country, there was nearly-constant strong, cold winds, as a part of that same weather system. We were happy to get down into the trees on Saturday, where our hats stayed on better.
We talk and laugh and hike and eat. We love the intensity of the stars, the majestic views, the rainbow flowers, the magnificent trees, the cold blue water. And we enjoy the sense of accomplishment at the end. We usually get a game or two of Frisbee golf in after dinner on one or two evenings. I always say I'm going to practice for next year, but, well, my score betrays my failure to follow through...A special hike, this year, was up to Goethe Cirque/Glacier/Lakes at nearly 12000' on our layover day. No trail. We just pick our way along by reading topo maps, rock-hopping over huge boulder fields, meadows and creek-crossings. A rare shared adventure.
That's why.
Photos: Clay and John hiking down ahead of me from Piute Pass toward Piute River Canyon, John's prize catches, my cute tent, Clay in the "kitchen", "us" at the end of the trail before boarding our ferry boat to the other side of Florence Lake.
As a quickie follow-up from the Fair Follies of last week, I thought I'd post a couple of better photos of the calligraphy and plein-air painting, as well as a shot of a piece I just made this week for a charity auction scheduled for tomorrow. Oh, and the sweater. Remember that you can click once to see them better if you wish.
Um, I haven't been very artsy the last six months or so. I've had a bit of an art "walkabout", in the Yvonne Goolagong sense. In the first few months, I was trying to get my website going, finding and prepping the photos for Tom and occasionally working up examples to show in different categories. I did several weeks of computer work for Tom's company (little images/icons for their new product). Also, I had a certificate/sign job from a friend (to be used by the blacksmiths at Empire Mine SHP), forgetting to snap a photo of it before delivery. I'll get over there sometime to get a copy for myself one of these days. I've been knitting some and doing a little basketry. And yard/garden working.
But not so much with the just plain art sort of work. I think I've found the groove, again, now, and have several projects lined up in my head, including some glass.
Meanwhile, here's a nicer rendition of the "Comfort" piece. It's a quote about friendship that my friend-of-45-years (yikes), Ann, commissioned earlier this year. The white lettering is done with gouache and the cup and other letters are colored pencil. A funny thing about the quotation is that it has at least three attributions. The most credible to me, after some Googling, is Dinah Craik, but George Eliot and a Native American chief (whose name is now lost to me) are also credited.
Next is the little painting/sketch I did in three hours at the Fair, a week ago. Not museum quality, I'm afraid, but I learned quite a bit from it and am planning to do some more fresh-air work soon. Plus, there's that little group I might join up with for an excursion or two.
Here's the sweater/jacket I made last winter. Haven't worn it, yet. I had been looking for a particular sort of style similar to some sweaters I saw in Germany a few years ago. It's wool and I felted it, so I had to guess how big to make it so that when it shrunk, it might fit. Somehow, it worked, but it was a real stab in the dark.
And this is a piece of calligraphy I worked on, sort of at the last minute, for an art auction. Last Saturday, I had about 5 hours of training as a volunteer with Hospitality House, the local organization that helps the homeless in this area. It happens that their biggest fundraiser of the year will be held at Empire Mine SHP tomorrow afternoon. Part of it is an art auction to support the work. I chose the quote to in some way harmonize with the theme of the evening "Art for the Heart". Not sure it's a real strong connection, but, hey. I did it in gouache and black ink. It's difficult to see, but there are little raised white squares that are a part of the design.
Ah, gotta run! More soon!
Day Two (Thurs., Aug. 12)--Lorri, my friend and neighbor, and I went to the Fair together the next day. She's a court reporter and gets precious few week days off (there being so much crime, and all), so it was an unexpected pleasure to be able to knock around with her over there. Of course, I forgot to snap a photo (picture cute, skinny, blond), but she enjoys all the same stuff I do. We didn't have but just a few hours (she was needed elsewhere later in the afternoon), so we made the most of it.
One silly thing--as we were waiting for our taco salads, Lorri mentioned that she thought we had just been on TV. I turned around to see a guy with a steadycam wandering around Treat Street, and then re-focused my attention on pending lunch. Later, on Facebook, I found out that it was Huell Howser's camera guy. Had I recognized him, I would have tried to insert myself into my second Huell Howser TV production (the first being a couple of years ago at a calligraphy conference in Pomona when I was actually interviewed by said HH). So funny given the great amusement I have had at his expense over many years. (Tom says, "Lightning does strike twice!")
Basically, I dragged poor Lorri around the fairgrounds at warp speed to make sure she didn't miss anything I liked. Well, we did have a sit-down for a few minutes to listen to a bluegrass band while eating our taco salads. Then it was zoom time. We'll see how awkwardly she avoids my gaze around fair time next year. I predict too many depositions to transcribe.
Day Three (Friday, Aug. 13)--I was focused on only one activity on Friday. I had signed up as one of the "plein air painters". "Plein Air" is just the official name of the art of painting scenes outdoors and not from photographs. All of the artsy stuff I've done in my life and I've never taken paints and paper or canvas outside to create a picture on the spot--one of the oldest and most basic forms of art there is. I felt it was my duty to try it out. 
The deal is that all the artists report to the arts building at noon on Friday. Ideally, by then, one should have figured out exactly where to set up outside. I had been there since 10:30, walking and looking, and had not yet settled on a scene. Painters are to begin no earlier than 1pm and turn their work in no later than 4pm. At 12:30, I finally figured it out, set up, then watched the time on my phone creep by until it was legal to start.
Three hours might seem like a long time. For a sermon or a dental visit, it is. For a painting, well...I really wanted to go with colored pencils or pastels for speed, but wasn't sure about the rules, so I chose gouache, which is opaque watercolor (a little more forgiving than the transparent sort). 
As for the scene, one of my favorite aspects of the fair is how they manage to cram all this wild fun zone equipment in amongst the trees without destroying either the trees or the equipment. There's also the crazy juxtaposition of bucolic nature tones and frenetic, cacophonous movement and artificial whoopie colors. Here's a shot of my stuff before I started, then a picture of my subject matter from the chair.
I started with quick pencil sketch, moving on to pen-and-ink rendering, and ended with the paint. Meanwhile, random folks and a series of carnie guys stopped by to chat about it all. By 3:30, I was throwing paint around in a frenzy. Of course, I didn't "finish". But, rules are rules, and I turned it in at 4 straight up. It turns out, there were only about 7 or 8 painters. Most, I learned, belong to a local plein air club: some encouraged me to join. Perhaps.
As for the results, only six people actually turned their pieces in to be judged. You can see the results in the photos. The big purple ribbon is "best in division", but the plein air contest was the only catergory in the division. So, sort of a two-for-one situation.
Moving on to:
Day Four (Sat., Aug. 14)--Saturday evening, we had signed up to help with the beer/wine concession, which is run as a fundraiser for Music in the Mountains. We arrived in enough time to get a bite to eat and see the results of the plein air competition. Then we cruised over to learn all the names of the kinds of beer and also how to pull a tap or pour a bottle without ending up with too much foam in the cup. I think we got pretty good at it! Tom, especially. He filled hundreds of 12-ounce cups most of the night (4 1/2 hours) and I served over a counter. It was fun and we enjoyed doing the "beer ballet" with the other 6 or 7 folks in cramped quarters as we all quickly ducked in and out of each others' pathways and arm movements with full cups and almost no spills. Who knew I would ever find myself slinging orders of Shock Top and Tumblr like a pro and having fun? We'll do it again next year. (Too busy for pics)
Last one:
Day Five (Sun., Aug. 15)--There was only one thing left to do: Make the enchiladas. I had signed up for one more competition, which was the last of the Special Food Contests. It was their first year to offer a Veggie Dish contest. I waffled a bit early in the afternoon, thinking I might just blow off the $2 entry fee and stay home, but decided to go ahead with it, anyway, in deference to the organizers.
I took my green cheese enchies over, all hot and bubbly, and set them on the tables near where my cheesecake had sat several days earlier. This recipe, which I've been making for many years, has a tomatillo/poblano-chile sauce over Mexican cheese/corn-tortilla enchiladas. I added spinach to the filling, this time, to make them even, well, greener. Only about 11 entries, this time. Better odds. It paid off with a second place ribbon and a nice "food scoop" (the winner was a deserving quiche with a nice smoked-mozzarella flavor). You know when you chop up a couple of tomatoes and need to get them into the bowl or pot? This scoop is the transportation. The SUV of scoops, actually. I already had a smaller one from IKEA and use it all the time. From now on, my veggies or shredded cheese will travel those few inches in style!
One more year, living proof that the key to winning stuff at your local county fair is to move to a county with fewer than 100,000 residents.
And I was done. I bet you are, too.
This is your lucky day!
At first, I thought I might write a separate entry for each day I spent at our Nevada County Fair (and I attended at least part of each of the five days), there being PLENTY to talk about and some nice pictures, but had second thoughts about that strategy. For one thing, I was at the Fair so much, I had no time to blog about it. For another, as with others of my many passions, most folks begin to nod off after paragraph two, as I have yet to learn the fine art of efficient expression. We'll do it all in two entries.
This will be a good exercise for me and just plain good for you. Here goes:
Day One (Wed., Aug.11)--The Longest Day. One of the things I love about our fair is the opportunity to sit (usually on bales of straw) in seminars and learn about all sorts of stuff. I go through the fair program days before and plan my schedule around the presentations and demos. I can't get to them all. This year, I learned more about: Gardening with Native Plants, Finer Points of Organic Gardening, Local Wild Birds, and Winter Gardening (see a theme?). All great. Good thing I'd brought a sack lunch. I'll have to catch some of the others next year.
Late in the afternoon, it was time to run around to the three buildings in which there were exhibits of art and handicrafts, mine among them, to see if I'd won any ribbons. Happily, I had. 
Once again, my chances of running away with the blue in the "professional calligraphy" category were excellent, mine being the only entry. Such a great strategy! (I'll post a better picture later this week) I entered two older baskets in another contest (the one I was making for the fair hit an unfortunate snag) and came away with a second place for one of them. 
Alas, I received no prize whatsoever in my first attempt at a category in the fabric arts. Folks around here are serious about their fabric arts, let me just say. My Green/black cardigan sweater (not brown, as it looks--I'll post another pic of it later) was lookin' fine, but it was no match for the Blue Lace Stitch number farther on down the table. I'll be back.
Then, whew!, it was time to run home to pick up Tom and bring him to the Fair. We had to be back before 6pm. That was the scheduled time for Special Food Contest of the Day, and Wednesday's contest was cheesecake! I had made one the day before in anticipation. OMG, they were all so beautiful! Mine, a layered chocolate/peanut butter/caramel confection (homemade caramel syrup!), was somehow miscategorized into the "traditional" versus the "exotic" group for judging.
We'll never know what might have happened, but there was no cigar for Sandy Gold this time. Still, it was interesting to watch (if a bit protracted, sitting on our straw bales--that's me) as judges pounded down some of all 24 entries; how do I get one of those gigs?. Then, after the winners were announced, we all got to taste the cheesecakes. Everybody wins. In the photo, mine is at the bottom, with a few of the others visible beyond.
As far as Tom is concerned, he can "do" the Fair in two hours or less, so after the cheesecake, we got some Fair Food and walked around to the exhibits to show him where my stuff was lurking. It's the only way he darkens the door of the Fabric Arts Building. The food at our Fair is mostly provided by local charitable organizations (Lions Club, Jewish Communtity Center, etc.) from permanent structures on "Treat Street". So buying a loaded baked potato benefits the 4H, and so on. In the fun zone, a few trailers hawk the cotton candy and kettle corn. Tom got the bratwurst (his fave!) and I the veggie rice bowl from the Soroptimists. We munched as we listened to some fun live music (there are five stages with continuous performances).
The next four days...
My mom hadn't been to our house for a visit in awhile, so she hopped a train in Fresno (picture that) bound for Sacramento where I picked her up around lunch time on Monday. She stayed until late afternoon on Friday. In between, we...
...spent a day in San Francisco, hanging with Dylan and Rachel and seeing the sights. We picked Rachel up at her place around 12:30 (picture taken in Rachel's kitchen), after which we motored on over to Dylan's shop to collect him so that we could all get some lunch. Mom treated everyone to a lovely meal in the harborside patio of The Ramp. Happily, it happened to be sunny in this particular location at this particular time--not always a given in the summertime on the peninsula.
We drove back to Dylan's shop to show Mom around (3rd picture in front of some lumber storage) and then left him there to work on a concrete table top for a client. After dropping Rachel off back at her place, we just had time for a whirlwind tour of the Greatest Hits of SF--Golden Gate Park, Lincoln Park/Legion of Honor, The Bridge/Presidio (next picture--where you can see weather being a little more typical for this time of year), Fisherman's Wharf, Lombard Street, North Beach/Chinatown, Financial District, and then we're heading east on the Bay Bridge. By 8:45 we were back in Grass Valley. Whew!
...spent quite a few hours looking at old photos, she telling stories and I jotting down a few names dates and key words. They were mostly pictures of her early years in El Monte, but there were also some nice ones of her folks in Brooklyn (where they met after each of them emigrated Finland in the early 20s) and even a few of the Old Country,
...wandered around the Fairgrounds as I delivered a few entries to their respective judging sites (the Nevada County Fair is next week--more about this later, of course),
...made do-it-yourself frozen yogurt concoctions at Culture Shock,
...Googled our brains out looking for information about various subjects from the Finnish language and the Kalevala to Whatever happened to ____? (fill in the blank. One was "the Gabor sisters"),
...had a nice dinner out (thanks, Mom!) at Amigos in Nevada City where we munched Mexican food to the tune of Deer Creek splashing along just below us (last photo).
The Amtrak Station is just a few blocks from Old Sacramento, a well-preserved historical area on the banks of the Sacramento River, so after we got Mom comfortably seated on the train, Tom and I headed over there to wait out the rush hour on Friday afternoon. It's more than a bit tourist-y, but cute and we hung out there for awhile, walking and stopping for some Indonesian food (excellent!), and enjoying the effects of the "Delta Breeze" which was keeping Sacramento unseasonably cool (wow! mid-eighties).
It was a good week! She's home, now, but she'll be back. More photo-processing and Googling to do...
We almost let it slip by, this year. The dates were changed (July rather than late Aug/Sept) so that more kids could attend. Duh. WE nearly forgot to go, though.
The California State Fair is really Sacramento Regional Fair with a few county displays set up in one of the pavilions. Some counties, like Solano, go all out--different every year--and build elaborate, free-standing, walk-through structures complete with music, Disney-style animatronics and costumed staff to pass out brochures and little packets of prunes or Jelly Bellies. Some, like Nevada County (ours)--blow up some photos and stick 'em on a wall. Some apparently let some of their enthusiastic third-graders organize the whole display. And some, like many this year, blow it off entirely.
Not unlike most folks, we look forward to some fun fair food. Tom got the deep-fried White Castle burger one year, for example. We're not suicidal, however. No chocolate bacon or fried twinkies for us. This year, Tom broke the time-from-car-to-food-in-mouth record by pouncing on a cheese-filled bratwurst a few steps from the gate. Here he is, not one bit sorry about his rash behavior. By contrast, after visiting ALL the food vendors at the fair, some more than once, I landed a--ta da!--roasted veggie panini! Of course, by that time, Tom was hungry again and we got some deep-fried artichokes to share. I must say, timing aside, we made excellent choices this year. The gelato (or some kind of frozen thing) and fudge are routine chasers. The fudge guy sells umpteen kinds. This year we chose Pralines and Cream and Mounds (that's right--layered chocolate and coconut). Yum.
Among the special exhibits this year were two fun ones. The first was a complete history of the bicycle complete with museum-quality artifacts. I chose the multi-rider bike for the photo, but there were other unusual examples--a bike made mostly of bamboo, a ten-foot-high bike, and a bike made entirely of glass. The other exhibit was all about animation and included lots of Disney/Pixar video and process info as well as sections of Warner Bros., Hannah-Barbera and Japanese Anime. Fun and fascinating!
The last highlight I'll mention is the farming/animals area--always a biggie for me. You can see Tom standing in front of the field corn. Everything growing in the ag exhibit looked as though it had been fed that Alice's cake from Wonderland. 
Enormous. But the most fun was looking at all the baby animals--goats, sheep and cows with their days-old young. The photo shows piglets only three hours old! They had been born after we'd arrived at the fair! That's me being happy about it.
The entertainment was fine (group called Fog Hat), but we walked on by toward the exit. We scored last year with Three Dog Night. This time we just bopped to the beat as we made our way to the car.
But guess what's coming up in 10 days! Ha! The fabulous Nevada County Fair. And I have a few more ways to participate this year, which I will share in due time. Stay tuned...
Coming from the north, instead of south (San Diego), with the other nine, I had to make a creative alternate plan. I solved it by having Tom drive me to Colfax, 25 minutes away from home, to catch a Greyhound bus to Reno. Then, I found an Eastern Sierra Transit Authority bus that runs several times a week from Reno to Bishop, altogether about 8 hours of travel. The guys ("us"), then, picked me up in Bishop. In fact, they saw me on the moving bus and followed it to the station. Smooth.
