It seems like it's been so long since I've posted, that I hardly know what to type. If I've been writing at all, it's been and extremely type of writing you'd only do for your job. Pardon me if I am dull.
Things have been humming along pretty quickly. The first two weeks of November brought fairly high temperatures (for Idaho - 50s) and lots of activities for the kids to keep me on the move - swimming, of course, and now add indoor soccer to the mix. Soccer is always especially torturous, as it seems like the practices are typically held somewhere that is the farthest possible place from our house, yet still in Idaho Falls. Fortunately, this season, the kids are actually on the same time. Their first game was this morning, with a victory, 5-3. Ethan scored two goals and Lucy did a great job at defense and passing. They looked a little dazed and confused, as everyone does their first time playing indoor soccer. The lighting is off, the field much bigger than you expected, everything so much faster than you knew possible, and the floor much, much harder than you'd like.
We hit the snow a couple of weekends ago for the first time with our snowshoes up at the Grand Targhee resort. In the Valley there were only traces of snow here and there, but we could tell by looking at the mountains that Targhee must be pretty well doused with snow. Getting up there seemed pretty straightfoward, and we were even fairly worried about it being to rainy, until we passed that magical rain/snow line, and all of the sudden the drive got tense. I breathed a sigh of relief (as I always do) at the crest of the little hill that leads down into the Targhee parking lot (we survived! we did not plummet off the side of the mountain), to be quickly taken in again, as in a flash, we saw: the gate across the parking lot, lots of cars parked along the sides, and.... the Pilot, while the wheels stopped, slid slowly, ever so slowly (almost peacefully) down the grade. David is much more skilled and relaxed in these situations than me - somehow he managed to get the wheels and the car sideways enough to actually stop before we crashed into something. So we were stopped.... now what. Gosh. Eventually, we backed up the road a bit to the side and parked - mercifully, the car stopped this time. We were all afraid to move, afraid the car might just start sliding again. Eventually we relaxed, got out, and started to don the snowshoes for a little hike. David stuck some twigs and branches under the tires -- just in case. Seems like we have a long history of near-death experiences "tween" seasons - the worst being the time I thought I was going to be stranded in the chest high snow on the north face of Mt. Lafayette in the White Mountains of New Hampshire (the snow seemed so light at the bottom!)... but that was like, I don't know, 10 years ago. Why in the world would we learn from our mistakes?
I was just a bit
tense for about the first 15 minutes of our snowshoe. Ugh, I shudder now just remembering that feeling of helplessly sliding down the slope in a car that suddenly felt so big and heavy and DANGEROUS.... Anyway, the snow was pretty nice for early season. About 2 feet was on the ground, and we hiked from the upper parking lot over toward the hill with the well-bench at the top -- I started winding toward how I remembered switchbacking up there, but with only 2 feet of snow, a lot of branches and generally treacherous debris was sticking out, just waiting for David to mis-step and tear off a ligament or two. He got a little angry with me (although really, is it my fault trees fall in the forest), so I got us out to the cross country course, and then up and around on a bit of the main part of the cross country track. There were a few die-hards on skate skis slogging through the not-so-ready early season snow, as well as a few snowboarders jumping off a ramp for tricks, and telemarkers slushing up the main slopes. I say, hell, we're staring down almost 5 solid months of ski season, do we really all need to be up here right now?
I guess the problem is that there's really not much else to do... Too cold for biking in the Valley, a little miserable for running, and just the wrong amount of snow for hiking lower down - too much for normal shoes (and too slippery for David) and too little to break out the snowshoes. We found that out Sunday, as we had hiking "failure" after "failure" (as Ethan called it), attempting first Fox Creek (stream too high to cross), then Moose Creek (two wet for Lucy who always seems to forget the proper footwear).
Today I have the joy of our first snow of lasting significance in Idaho Falls this winter ... November 14 is not really very early in the grand scheme of things, but it's painful all the same, since we were tricked into thinking maybe, oh just maybe, this time winter WON'T come and I can just keep riding my bike to and from work for the whole year. I've suffered through some cold mornings - 15 degrees being the coldest so far. But with my "arctic tundra" down coat, heavy scarf and hat, and mittens to survive an Antarctic trip, I generally manage temps that low quite easily.
Today however was a different story. Add a biting wind and icy, pelty little snow in your face, and suddenly 26 degrees becomes utterly unbearable. We lent the Pilot to someone, so while David took the kids to the ski swap, I was left with the Cruiser or my own two feet for getting to the gym. <<Shiver>> That bike may be getting parked REAL soon.
So, I say, now is a fantastic time to be heading off to San Diego! Somehow, I am finally fortunate enough to visit southern California for a work trip, mimicking just this once the high life that David leads!
