Trap Dike: Part One

Hard core I am not. Adventurous maybe. Curious, most definitely.

For years, friends told me stories about ascending or descending the Trap Dike and I wondered how this place could be so amazing. I knew that Avalanche Pass was gorgeous from other through hikes I had taken, but this dike they all talked about definitely had me curious.

I was always jealous of listening to their climbing and skiing adventures and silently pouted that no one would ever take me. Finally, I mentioned my interest in reaching Mount Colden's summit via this classic Adirondack climbing route to my friend Emilie and we started planning when we could go. This planning process took us approximately two years to finally have days off together and have the weather be on our side. With Emilie's upcoming trip to the Indian Karakoram for a climbing expedition of her own, this first week of summer was our week. Or so we thought.

We kept watching the weather report and things looked good for our adventure, with a 30% chance of showers in the late afternoon. Emilie figured out that if we started by 8 am, we could be on our way down before any supposed rain would begin. Not trying to get ahead of myself in the story, but I should note here that approximately 3 hours later she told me that if she had a client with this forecast, they would not have attempted the proposed hike. However, a paying client I was not and as two friends, we plowed ahead and so we reached Avalanche Lake looking out for dark clouds.

Unusually optimistic for the two of us, we determined that it was partly cloudy and we circled the lake. Confident that the weather man was spot on with the weather forecast, we decided to eat a sandwich before we started our scramble and just as we were finishing the crusts, we looked at one another and said, "Was that a raindrop?" Yes, but no sprinkle was going to keep me down and so we continued.

Then those sprinkles turned into heavy rain drops, we put on our raincoats and the rocks became slippery and wet. Turns out rain and rock slabs don't mix well and Emilie, the knowledgeable guide gave Mother Nature the thumbs down.

And so there I was crouched in the rain with my SPF 70 having her tell me how nice it will be to do the Trap Dike with fall foliage.

So, as I feed her cats this summer and tell them stories about their owner climbing on the other side of the world, at least I'll have Trap Dike, Part Two to look forward to.

Best of luck Emilie on your big adventure!

Making Porch History

Last month I wrote about the saga of the missing porch. We had some issues with losing our cat to its scary underworld and thought we needed to remedy the problem. In general, the porch was a little shabby to begin with and no, I don't mean shabby chic.

So, the porch was destroyed and my thoughts went to fabulous porches and reconstruction. Just across the covered bridge from us was a beautiful Victorian house that had a gorgeous wrap-around porch.

Running across the covered bridge through to the other side, the big old porch would greet me with its intricate architectural elements and I would daydream about sitting up there looking out at the river rapids. One morning, I took another running route and did not start my day passing the vacant 19th century home. Instead, a neighbor walked her dog and saw smoke coming from the home. I was already at work when I found out.

The house had been destroyed and was considered a complete loss. The charred porch, still showed signs of grandness.

This spring, demolition on that home began and we were able to purchase two of the salvaged columns. Drew rebuilt our porch and although it is small, we are very pleased that a piece of Jay's history is now a part of our home sweet home.

Thank you to Patti F for providing photos

Gold Medal Laundromat

Back in the day when I was an apartment dweller in Lake Placid, I had to cart my laundry to the laundromat. This was not an activity I loved. Most of the laundromats in Lake Placid back then were places that rarely made me feel like I was walking away with clean clothes. I never hung out at the laundromat waiting for the clothes to come out because just sitting there made the last of my clean clothes that I was wearing feel dirty. Of course, this meant returning 28 minutes later to discover that the machine did not work properly and then had to wait around even longer than anticipated. So, I perfected the art of timing my visits to my parents just when the laundry basket had reached its full capacity.

When Drew and I bought our first home, his parents gifted us with our very own washer and dryer. It was one of the best gifts I had ever received and I was thankful that my laundromat days were over. Or so I thought...

Just as any homeowner knows, when it rains it pours. We came back from a weekend away and the basement was flooded. The worst it has ever been. It fried our hot water tank and our beloved washing machine. Over the course of the week I had taken hot showers in four different households within a five mile radius. Several dollars later, the hot water tank is fixed and the washer is not.

This week, our laundry collection surpassed the friendly, "Hey do you mind if we come over and do a load of laundry?" With a total of six loads, we drove to Lake Placid and went to the new, Gold Medal Laundromat in the Cold Brook Plaza.

What an improvement now that it is under new management. I know this happened awhile ago, but wow! The washing machines are all new and they work. The driers blew me away. For a large load, the clothes were all dry in less than half an hour.

We didn't lose any change in the machines and when I had a problem putting one of the bills in for quarters, the owner came right over even without me asking for help. The laundromat was clean and had a nice sitting area with a large flat screen television to pass the time. I actually didn't mind spending an hour there doing laundry and sat reading until I heard the machines beep to tell me they were done doing their job.

It is nice to know that there is a good laundromat in Lake Placid and I will probably gather up some sweaters for their dry cleaning service. I think Gold Medal Laundromat definitely deserves the gold!

Much Deserved Pedicure at Speedy Spa

A quick update on my never ending toe issues...I finished the marathon on Sunday with no damage to my recent toenail removal and managed to cross the finish line with zero blisters. My tootsies actually ended up being the least of my issues and while struggling with the heat (my enemy), I thought about how my friend, Elizabeth thought that thinking about a pedicure in the last few miles might make the miles go by easier. Honestly, I needed a whole lot more than the thought of a pedicure appointment in the last few miles, but we both did it. We finished another marathon and our feet definitely deserved the royal treatment at Speedy Spa.

The owner, Claire greeted us on the porch and was happy to see us, we were happy that there was only one step to climb. Speedy Spa has such a fun vibe to it and is a great place to go with girlfriends for spa treatments.

Elizabeth came away from the marathon with a couple bruised toenails, so Laura gave her feet some needed tlc.

Elizabeth decided to cover up her already purplish toe nails with a rosy pink. I asked her what the paint color was called and she said, "Baguette Me Not." I responded confused with, "like as in a french baguette?"

Um yeah, you can tell I'm not too girly because baguette diamond was not even a thought of mine.

I went with something a little less feminine and had my nails painted, "Hot and Spicy."

I guess I was partial to the name since I really haven't been able to cool down since the race and well... y'all know I'm a little spicy.

We left Speedy Spa feeling great and it made me think I should start rewarding myself more often, marathon or not. Thanks Speedy Spa!

Running For Reading

As I recently mentioned, this round of marathon training has been slower than usual. I am okay with that, but I'm starting to see habits forming. As I begin to know more and more of you within the community, I find myself breaking stride and stopping to chat.

I might be in the middle of a 15 mile run trying to crest a hill and catch up to you while you are walking your dog, so I stop and walk with you and chat. Then another 30 minutes goes by and find myself on a tour of a property that I often admire. Sometimes I stop running because I finally see a fellow knitting group friend outside weeding after having heard through the grapevine that she had been in the hospital. Maybe my pace slows because I have a question about a cool sign on the side of a barn or finally get to meet the owner and learn the names of the dogs that chase me up the hill from within their electric fence.

These last few months of running have made me really appreciate all the waves and big smiles I get from those of you in your vehicles passing by. I don't even know most of your names, but I thank all of you for getting me through those dark, cold mornings. I am so lucky to be able to run safely in such a wonderful community and for that I am racing for the Wells Memorial Library at the Vermont City Marathon on May 29th and hope that I can raise funds for what I believe is an important organization that brings people in our community together. It also helps that the library is sometimes on my running route and I can always stop in, fill up my water bottles and fuel up with some candy.

I have 26.2 miles to run, so whether it's 10 cents or 10 dollars a mile, please consider making a pledge to support the Wells Memorial Library. If you have any questions, please leave a comment below with your email address or you can send your donation to: Wells Memorial Library, PO Box 57, Upper Jay, NY 12987.

Thank You!

Missing Porch

Do you know what it's like to come home after work and see that your porch has gone missing?

Um yeah, gone. Drew had timed it to so he could be secretly sitting in his car to see my expression when I pulled into the driveway. Yes, my mouth dropped. Now, the funny thing here is that I did not panic. Does this mean I'm starting to get used to these outrageous surprises?

I have to admit, when I came home one day to a cedar tree cut down without any previous discussion, I was mad. I thought it gave us some privacy and I loved being in bed and looking out at the birds in the tree. He did not have the same love for the cedar. Now, in place of the cedar tree we have a cauldron that he secretly purchased and dragged around the house leaving a trail.

Full disclosure here, I now love that the cedar tree is gone. Sitting around it with friends while a fire is going is one of my favorite activities.

Secret projects are something that I suppose I'm getting used to. Tearing up kitchen floors before I've wrapped my head around the idea of refinishing it and introducing saloon doors to me before I had fully investigated all the styles does frustrate me immensely, but it always turns out for the best.

But, back to this porch destruction thing... remember when our cat had gone missing this winter? We realized that the only place she could have gone in two feet of snow was under the porch. Drew was very close to tearing up the entire porch and mud room floor to rescue her. Luckily, she escaped on her own and came back in one piece, but we did not want it to happen again.

We had discussed the potential project of redoing the porch, but once again he went ahead without my knowledge and began demolition. He discovered the hole that Bella had fallen in.

I discovered that I would not have any stairs going into my home. My friend Elizabeth, the next morning discovered she could not drop something off to us. She called and said, "I don't mean to alarm you, but it appears as if your porch has been stolen." Yes I am well aware of the porch situation, nothing was stolen, it's called having a handy husband.

Aha Moment #1271, It's Not a Grenade

I know that with any marathon training, you will have your ups and downs. Mostly, this time around, I have had my share of downs. It was a long winter with lots of snow, then came the rain and flooding, and another surgery with a toenail removal.

Last week, still on the mend, my mother and I hit the gym so I could get on the bike. It was awful. To me, there is nothing worse than being stuck inside an overheated, poorly ventilated room trying to crank it out on a bike. So, I stopped. We were putting our shoes on and my mother said, "When is the last date to decide if you will defer the race?" The guy sitting next to me overheard and asked what race I was doing. Turns out he is doing the same one and that he has been injured also. He told me that after having a grenade thrown at his head in Iraq and learning he had cancer shortly after, the doctors told him he might never walk again.

Um okay, I guess the angry, open wound on my big toe isn't so bad after all. It was a lesson from a stranger at the exact right time. This whole week I was in pain, I kept saying, "It's not a grenade in my head. It's not a grenade. It's not a grenade."

Yesterday, I stopped being a wimp and went for my last long run. After toughing it through the dark, dreary months, Mother Nature rewarded me with budding trees and green pastures.

The snow banks and freezing temperatures became a distant memory. Spring had finally arrived and my toe screamed, "Let's do this thing!" So, if you see me at mile 22 bonking my brains out, just say, "It's not a grenade."