Warm-weather adventures.

As these last days of Winter slip by and the days starts to get warmer and warmer, I'm left dreaming of the adventures that Summer brings. There is something so sweet about these sunshine-filled days. Long, lazy hours creep by and light fills the sky until the fireflies come out to dance at night.

This is the first Summer that I have not made any real plans for the places we will go, and what we will see. I don't quite know what to expect, but I know that I am ready and waiting in anticipation to see how our first Summer as a family of 3 unfolds.

When we were two:





We spent a lot of time by the sea. I am mostly dreaming of this again. Feeling warm sand, hot, brown shoulders and all the sounds of my favorite place to be.



The sweet romance of a Summer sunset, with the sky burning every fiery shade possible.



I'm dreaming of weekend road trips to natural springs, to dip our toes in the freezing cold water that is as clear as glass.



Fresh, mountain air - crisp, and invigorating. Trails to be found, and time to be spent centering, and finding ourselves again.



I'm dreaming of fitting into a cute pair of jean shorts, again :) Bare feet, and the freedom that comes with not being layered in 10 different pieces of clothing.



And quiet, stolen moments. Where time stands still and we are just living in that second, undisturbed and free.


Outside of these adventures, I am mostly dreaming of a normal lazy, Oklahoma Summer. Outdoor music and arts festivals, tending to my garden, bare feet on bermuda grass, and mosquitoes the size of birds. Fresh fruit from my parents trees, the gorgeous midwest sunsets, and air so thick you can barely breathe. I live for these days, and as Spring draws in closer and closer, I want to slow down time to breathe in every second of these unforgettable days.


A few posts from this past Summer:

The First Day of Summer

4th of July

Back From Market

Bringing the Outdoors In - Summer

Sometimes when you have a lot to say...

Grandma & Grandpa's House

Life Happens





What are you looking forward to this Summer, friends?




Photos from this post, from top to bottom:
Destin, Florida - 2005
Sulphur Springs, Oklahoma - 2007
Rocky Mountains, Colorado - 2008
Galveston, Texas - 2009

Coming home....(Colorado: Part Seven)

After we left the sand dunes, we still had a long drive ahead of us. We settled in and hit the road for the last time that week.



We drove until we came to the Capulin Volcano in New Mexico, and stopped for one last adventure along the way. I'd never seen the inside of a volcano before. We paid $5 and they made us leave as soon as I took one picture because a storm was moving in, and the volcano is struck by lighting on a regular basis.

We also stopped at the tiny country store to pick up a souvenir and give thanks that we didn't live in a small town in the middle of nowhere. We spent our time browsing the store, listening to a customer complain to the cashier that Obama was a Muslim terrorist. She was in a wheelchair, and looked like she was living off the government. Irony.



We drove a few more hours until the mountains started to disappear, and everything started to look like home, again.



Finally, around 10:30 at night, we were home. We kissed the cats hello and climbed in our comfy bed for the night.



While we were away, my Mom had filled our fridge with all my favorites. Homemade yogurt, a fresh loaf of bread she baked, khoresth badam joon, and plates full of veggies from our garden - it had been busy growing while we were busy hiking.



Nothing feels better than coming home, again. I will leave and see every bit of the Earth just to have that feeling of home, after a long week away.



When we got back, I felt like I was a different person. Physically, I felt like I could run a marathon after what my body had been through. I would hop on Elsie and ride 20 miles without breaking a sweat, and I was excited to see where my body could take me over the next few months.



My huge surprise came Sunday morning, when I decided to take a pregnancy test. My period was two days late, and I couldn't shake the feeling that we had brought something more than pine cones and pictures home from Colorado, that week.

It was July 25th, 2010, and my life changed forever.

Later I would tell Michael that I wanted to remember everything about that moment. The way I felt, his reaction, the way the sun was coming through our bedroom windows. It would be our only first time to live in that moment - the one where we found out that in 9 months, we would be parents.


The story goes that I took the test alone. I didn't want to stir up any unnecessary feelings if there was nothing to even fuss about.
But there was something to fuss about, and I panicked, trying to think of any way to tell Michael.
So I did what I've always known how to do. I wrote him a letter.



I typed it in notepad, in tiny typewriter font after I got home from my bike ride. I left it on the bed and asked him to come in the room while I hid in the bathroom. He picked it up, furred brow, and I buried my face in a towel, not knowing what to expect. And he smiled. And shuffled on his feet like he does when something makes him so happy that his emotions can't keep up with the anchors at the bottom of his legs.
He came to pick me up, and kissed my head. He called me Mama.




It was been 4 months since we've been home from Colorado, and I wrote him that letter. Little baby, we still can not wait to show you the world.
On a trip into the middle of nowhere, we were forced to find ourselves in these rocky mountains and lungs full of fresh, cool air. When you are older, I will pull out these photos. One week spent pushing myself to places I didn't know I could go. All to get ready for you, baby. One day, when you are older, I will tell you all about the story of us.

The Sand Dunes... (Colorado: Part Six)

We woke up in our hotel room Friday morning, rested from actually getting to sleep in a real bed for the night. We had planned on spending one more day in Colorado, but I was ready to get home and be back in our familiar routine. So we hit the road again, and drove until we came to Sand Dune National Park.



Everyone knows that walking/running/hiking in sand is like a bad dream where you're going nowhere fast. I was so sore from the last week of hiking, and summiting Mt. Elbert the day before, but I was so anxious to see more of this mysterious, random desert in the middle of the mountains.




So we spent a couple hours hiking...



Burying Hunter...



And digging our feet in the cool sand. It was so beautiful, I think I could have stayed there all day.




But we had a long trip ahead of us, with 9 and a half hours on the road before we would reach home, and find out the biggest news of our lives.


next: Coming home (and a little souvenir from our trip)

Climbing to the summit of Mt. Elbert... (Colorado: Part Five)

We woke up early from a cold night of no sleep. When the alarm went off at 4:45 am, I felt like I had finally just shut my eyes for the first time, and it was already time to get up.
We were advised by a man we'd met in town to start our hike early. We needed to beat the early-afternoon lightning storms that come through the mountains.

When the alarm went off, it was still pitch black outside, and the last place we wanted to be was on a trail we didn't know in the dark. We decided to sleep for another couple hours before starting the hike.

We finally woke up around 7:00am, cooked eggs, and drank lots of water to get ready for our long day.



With only our Topographic map, we were immediately lost. We hiked for about 30 minutes before realizing we were actually on the Colorado Trail. There were no markings or directions at the actual trail head. At this point we were cranky to be starting the long hike only 4 hours before the first of the storms would roll in, and having wasted energy back-tracking.
It was 8:30am, we were a little above 10,000 feet in elevation, and we had 4,200 feet to climb.

I had heard someone describe the hike to Elbert's summit as climbing a 5,000 foot staircase. I didn't know it would be worse.



The climb was steep, and unforgiving. During the next few hours we only took 3 breaks. This was my first stop, and the one that made me realize I would not be stopping again for a long, long time. We were about an hour into our hike, and all I wanted to do was sit for a minute to catch my breath. Michael pleaded with me not to stop because he knew that I would have to break through the wall again, to be able to build up stamina to finish the hike.
And how right he was.
I sat for about 4 minutes, and we were off again. It felt like starting over, and I was angry at myself for taking a break so early on. We wouldn't stop again until we were above treeline.

The hike was nothing like I'd imagined. In my head I would take pictures, stop and admire the views, and generally have fun along the way.

For the most part, I can't tell you much about that day, except for the few things I'm talking about, now. I didn't take my camera out, I didn't look around, and I could barely think outside of just moving. Anytime my mind would wander from what I was doing, I was having to break through that wall again. So I didn't let my mind wander.

Everything hurts when you're climbing over 4,000 feet in only a few hours in freezing temperatures. My lungs hurt, my hair hurt, my fingernails hurt, my face hurt. You're producing ridiculous amounts of saliva and snot to the point where I turned into a 12 year old boy, shooting snot rockets and just moving on. For miles, I focused on a breathing pattern and didn't break it. We didn't talk, look at each other, or stop. We just pushed.
I worried about Hunter, knowing how I felt and wondering if his old bones were okay.



We passed hikers along the way that had turned back around 12,500 feet. Their dogs were showing stress and the storm was getting closer. We were halfway, and I couldn't let go of what we had come here to do. We kept hiking.



The 2nd time we stopped was around 13,000 feet. We had to make time to eat and hadn't stopped since our 4 minute break, miles back.
The air was getting thinner at this point, and I was starting to get worried. Hunter wouldn't eat, my hands were freezing, and we still had a long way to go. The steepest and rockiest part of our hike was still ahead, and I was starting to feel the affects of the elevation.



Miles away I imagined our little Yurt tucked into the mountains. I remembered sitting there 3 days ago and looking towards the point where I was sitting, now. We were here, and we would finish it.



From 13,000 feet to 14,433 was the point where I became what I like to call: mountain high. We were only functioning with half of the oxygen level we had when we first started our hike.
I was delirious. Almost crying one minute and laughing the next. Every time Michael would turn around and ask me if I was okay, I would say: "I'm fine, I'm just mountain high."

The last 1,000 feet of our hike looked like the picture above. Even though I knew we were almost there, part of me still wondered if I could make it over these rocks as I started hallucinating and my brain grasped for any oxygen it could take.

We were almost to the top, and the wind was piercing. We had no shelter or protection, and the clouds were getting thick. The temperature had dropped into the low 30's.



And then, after so many false summits, we were there. We finally made it.

It was 12:23 pm. It took us a little under 4 hours to climb 4,200 feet.


The summit was the 3rd and last break we took. I called my parents, we took a picture, and just as we put the camera away, the clouds surrounded us.
From the top of Mt. Elbert, you are looking down at every other summit in the Rocky Mountains. You can see Pike's Peak from there, and it feels like you're standing on top of the world. I was looking forward to this the most, but instead I was feeling ice cold rain on the back of my neck. But it wasn't rain.

The thunder was booming and we realized that it had started to sleet, and hail. We didn't have time to wait, and I didn't even get my chance to sit down. We ran. Down the rocks and steep trail, my knees were swollen and hurt more than anything. But we couldn't stop, and the freezing rain that fell on us for the next 2,000 feet down was a little bit of an I-just-summited-this-mountain buzzkill.

We didn't stop until we reached treeline, below 12,000 feet. We were soaked all the way through, and everything we had was ruined.



Fortunately my camera was still working, the lens was just foggy and cloudy. I had wrapped it in extra clothes and pushed it to the bottom of my backpack.
My phone was ruined.



In the shelter of the trees the sun started to peek out, and we saw this pretty little bird. It was the first time we'd smiled in over an hour.



Coming down was slow. A hike down that steep puts painful pressure on your knees. It took 3 hours to get back to camp, making our hike 7 hours long, total. (+30 minutes for getting lost in the beginning)






We took a nap when we got back to our tent, and I shamelessly begged to pick up camp and just head to a hotel for the night. We still had another full day of our trip planned, but all I wanted was to be home. I wasn't feeling well, my body hurt, and deep in my body a little baby was nestling in nice and cozy like. I just didn't know it, yet.



We took down our tent, packed, and headed to Leadville for dinner. I wanted a big greasy burger and fries, + a root beer to celebrate our summit. We passed Elbert on the way to town, and I saw a beam of sun breaking through. I was so thankful to not be at the top at that moment.



We decided to drive to Alamosa, so we could go to Sand Dune National Park in the morning before heading home.



It was a 3 hour drive, and for the last time that week, I saw Mt. Elbert. Even though I was standing in those clouds just hours before, I was still intimidated at the size and reality of it.
I watched the clouds swallow the summit as another storm pushed through.

This was a trip we could never forget.



next: Sand Dune National Park

Setting up Primitive Camp...(Colorado: Part Four)

It was Wednesday morning and we'd just gotten back into Leadville from our Yurts. We hadn't had a shower since Sunday night, and dropped by a laundry mat to do a load of laundry and take a shower.




We stopped at a little local Mexican restaurant and ate until our bellies were full. We'd been living off of Cliff Bars, beans & rice, bananas, and almonds for 2 days.



We drove about half an hour to Twin Lakes, where we would set up camp at the Mt. Elbert trail head. The moment I had been counting down to since February was just hours away.



Finding a spot to camp was a little less than easy. There was a campground close by, but Michael was dead set on a camp in the middle of nowhere.




The aspen trees were beautiful.

It was only 6:00pm and it was already almost freezing. We were at the highest
elevation I had ever camped in, and that night it would get down in the mid-30's.
The mosquitoes were the worst I've ever experienced.



We hurried to build a fire and set up our tent and tarps before the sun went down.
Michael cooked steaks over the fire while I packed all of our needed items for the morning hike. The hike. Everything I had researched and prepared for. Moleskin and band-aids, a first-aid kit, cliff bars and snacks full of carbs and protein, a camel back, my hiking socks, the boots I'd been wearing in for 4 months, extra clothes, flashlights, camera equipment, bug spray, and phones.



Hunter was out cold, still exhausted from our hike up Horseshoe Mountain. We'd already hiked over 30 miles in 3 days, and tomorrow we would add another 12. My old man was pooped.
I finally had reception on my phone for the first time in almost 3 days, and called my parents. I talked to them both, and they were both worried sick.
When we got home from our trip, My Mom told me that her and my Dad had stayed up all night, trying to use Google Satellite to find out where we were in case anything happened to us.

I slept terribly that night. It was freezing, I was scared to death of being in a flimsy tent in the middle of the Rocky Mountains with bears, cougars, and crazy mountain people out there with no help around for miles.


And mostly, I just stayed up thinking about Elbert. What would it be like? Would I be able to do it?
It was raining at this point.
Tomorrow the weather predicted storms, and I knew that if there were any lighting, on top of the 2nd tallest mountain in the United States was not where we wanted to be. One more thing to stay up all night worrying about...

next: Climbing to the summit of Mt. Elbert