Big Walk (Part II)

I know I already posted about this, but Jen shared her pictures of the day with me, and I couldn't resist passing them along to my adoring public.

In case you forgot I was pregnant, refer to bowling ball above. (That was a month ago...I've grown and inch a week since then...)

Much better action shot than I got of Justin and Colton running "fast like McQueen."

I'm pretty sure that Matt was trying to imitate Colton's run.  Either that or he was returning to his primate roots.  Kind of hard to tell which...

We made it to the "ba-ba ba"  (That is Colton's version of waterfall.  Now--a month later--it has at least developed to "wa-wa ba."  Progress.)

Pure happiness.

After playing in the water, his shorts were a little wet...so he got to enjoy Oreos in his undies at the end of the hike.  

Big Walk

Over Labor Day, we decided it was time to introduce Colton to hiking.  We were in the Shenandoahs with the fabulous Piersons, so it seemed like a good Sunday activity to get outside and enjoy the beauties of nature.  For some reason, rather than telling him that we were going on "a hike," we told him that we were going on a "big walk."  I'm not sure why we didn't just call it a hike.  But that is not the point here.  The point is that Colton was a super hiker, or big walker--whatever you want to call it.  He spent the first mile forcing Justin to jog with him "fast like McQueen" (or "bast mean" as this phrase would sound to the average human ear).  This picture doesn't really do justice to the fact that they were moving at quite a clip (especially compared to 7-months-pregnant me).

Despite how much Colton loves running, the highlight of this particular big walk was the little pool full of gravel at the bottom of the waterfall.  

Grab two handfuls of gravel.

Pull back...

Release!

Sheer delight to watch all those little rocks go plop, plop, plop in the water.

Then he realized it was fun to get in the water himself...

Smile! (He's figured out that he should make a face when we say to smile.  At least this time it wasn't his sour face.)

Sadly, getting his feet all wet led to some pretty nasty blisters--and that was the end of him going fast like McQueen.  On the other hand, it was the beginning of a great bicep workout for Justin who got to carry him the rest of the way...

Dr. J's Death March of Fun (a.k.a. The Subway)

I love family vacations.  Growing up, our family vacations usually consisted of either a beach or poolside destination--most often, St. George.  Activities usually alternate between swimming (and by swimming, I mean lying next to the pool), watching movies, and playing games--and eating way too much.  I'm not going to lie.  Our vacations are usually not very active.  In fact, they are deliciously inactive.  Despite our proximity to Zion National Park and my dad's love of "beauty," his desires to get out and see some of it are usually ignored as we head to the pool.

This year, Justin decided to take matters into his own (very active) hands, and took a small group of us (Me, Emily, Dan, and Margaret) canyoneering down "The Subway."  It was a small group because some people had to stay behind to babysit, and some apparently only go "hiking" if it's on horseback.  

We had an amazing time.  Justin and Margaret in particular came much closer together through this experience.  Let's just say that in a tricky maneuver climbing down a tree, Margaret sat on Justin.  And let's also say that it's a good thing that Justin turned his head at the last second so that she straddled is shoulder instead of his face...  We now like to refer to this as Margaret and Justin's cheer-leading move. I almost peed my pants.  It was really that funny.

Anyway, I had to officially document the Durham's getting active on vacation.  The pictures were taken with a disposable under-water camera, so they aren't the best quality...but you can use your imagination.

This is technically the last picture taken when we finally found the trail marker to get out of the canyon.  (The hike out of the canyon is really long.  Some might even call it a death march...)  We were really happy. Really.

We just stopped for a casual rest along the way.

I look like a total girl in this picture, but that water was seriously cold!!

Now can you tell why this canyon is called "the subway'?  In the distance, you can kind of see (from left to right) Margaret, Emily, Dan, Me.

This was the part when we saw the angel.

There was a lot of swimming...in really cold, murky water.

We posed like this together to show that we are sporty and in love.

I soooooo wish that you could see Margaret's facial expression in this picture.  This was the first swim...and the water was shockingly cold.  Her look was priceless.

Those are two wild and crazy guys!

A Snorkler's Paradise...ish

As part of our Hawaiian adventure, we decided to spend three days on Hawaii's Big Island. We hiked to waterfalls, watched the volcano erupt, and explored some of Volcano National Park. We also spent an entire day snorkeling...

We heard about a bay that is great for snorkeling, but only accessible by boat. When we called the boat company, we discovered that they also do a night snorkeling adventure with Manta Rays...and if you sign up for both, you get a crazy discount. So we of course signed up for both. It was well worth the money. We did a morning snorkel at Kealakekua Bay. It was about a 45 minute boat ride. On the way out, they served breakfast, and then once we were secured at the bay, they had a barbeque on the boat. We snorkeled for a while, at lunch, snorkeled some more. It was fantastic.

Now, I'm always the littlest bit queezy on boats, and this was no exception. Usually by closing my eyes and breathing deeply, I get over it. However, this time, it didn't seem to matter how many deep breaths I took...as we headed back to the dock, it seemed to get worse and worse. Just as we neared the end of our journey, they stopped the boat and announced that we were being followed by dolphins--which is truly wonderful, unless you think you are going to throw up, in which case, you simply want the stupid boat to go back to dock. As everyone rushed to the edge of the boat to watch the dolphins, I sat on the bench breathing deeply and trying to identify the best place to puke. Fortunately for the people down below, I had already noted that puking over the side of the ship would actually only land on the people below, so when I passed the point of no return, I headed for a large garbage can. It was a little awkward as I started wretching next to some excited Asian tourists madly taking pictures of the dolphins, but there wasn't really that much I could do about it.

I felt much better after puking, and we arrived at the dock shortly thereafter, so all seemed fine. We headed to our car for a nice afternoon nap (since we'd gotten up at 5:15 am in order to drive from Volcano to Kona) and prepare ourselves for the night snorkel. I was optimistic that things would be fine, since the night experience only involved a 5 minute boat ride. Oh, how I was mistaken.

First let me say that snorkeling with Manta Rays was amazing. It was worth the puking that was to come. They literally swam within an inch of you with their huge mouths open wide. We were lucky in that seven gigantic manta rays actually showed up that night, so we were totally surrounded by them.

But let me continue my tragic tale of sea sickness. We rode the five minutes to the spot where the mantas come, and I felt fine. Then we had to wait for it to get dark (because they come out at night to eat plankton). So we sat there for about 30 minutes waiting for the sun to set. Meanwhile, the boat was just parked in the bay rocking back and forth. As everyone lined up to jump in the water, I headed to the edge of the boat to throw up. Yup, right into the ocean. The crew kindly offered me some water and suggested that I might feel better in the water. This probably would have been true if we weren't just floating on top...because after about 30 minutes of watching the mantas, I started to get that feeling that told me I should probably swim away from the rest of the group. Sure enough, I got ten feet away and threw up right there in the ocean.

At this point, I seriously considered just swimming back to the dock because getting back on the boat didn't sound like a great idea, but I got back on the boat anyway, wrapped my towel around myself, closed my eyes and started breathing deeply. Everyone else continued snorkeling for about 10 minutes, and then we headed back to the dock. Just for good measure, I went ahead and puked one more time over the edge, just to make sure that the fish got every last bit of my dinner.

It's hard to explain how truly terrible I felt--especially knowing we had a 2 1/2 hour car ride back to Volcano that night on windy roads. Even though we were off the boat, I couldn't seem to get the ground to stop rocking. I also thought that I should probably try to at least re-hydrate myself, so I had Justin stop and get me some Gatorade. I took one small swig...and that was enough. Good thing I'd told Justin to get a plastic bag just in case! What an exciting day. I will say that despite all the motion sickness and throwing up, it was still a very fun day, and quite the adventure. I think I will just avoid boats for the rest of my pregnancy, and maybe a little beyond as well.

Hail to the New Chief

People around the country seemed to be very excited about the inaug- uration of Barack Obama. I mean, excited to the point that they were actually flying into town to be there for the event. Excited enough that they were willing to pay $1,500 to stay in someone's apartment for the week. (Now, I can't actually confirm that anyone actually paid that amount, but I happened to be looking for a new apartment before the inauguration and saw hundreds of people trying to rent out their apartments for such ridiculous rates.)

Most of the Virginia/DC/Maryland natives that I talked to were not so excited. In fact, many were flying away for the long weekend to avoid the crowds. Justin and I were not planning on going anywhere near downtown until we got a call from our friends Nate and Ashley Morris on Monday night offering us their tickets to the event the next morning. How could we possibly pass that up? We couldn't. So despite the fact that I did not have the day off, we went downtown and participated in history. And then, we walked home on the HOV lane of 395. It was pretty sweet. Thanks Nate and Ashley!! And good luck President Obama!!!

We were pretty darn close to the Capital. (About 20 feet behind the reflecting pool.)

Way closer than all those people back there...


And on the way home, we took a couple lovely pictures from the side of 395. It is such a fantastic view of the Jefferson Memorial, but there are usually cars rather than pedestrians on this part of the road so this particular shot is not normally available.

But wait! This blog is not over!! Obama is not the only new chief in our lives...

Coming in July, this little kumquat will no doubt take over everything. We are very excited to announce the expected arrival of baby #1 sometime around the 26th of July. Wahoo!!

European Adventure: Conclusion

So Spain was amazing! Here's what happened next:

We left Ronda and headed south and drove along the beach past Malaga to a little beach town called Torrox (close to Nerja). We didn't actually bring beach towels with us, so we showed up amidst the crowds of people with their beach chairs and chaise lounges, and set out our hand towels and sat down. Fortunately, we found a grassy area, so the hand towels were adequate (but it was pretty funny).

After a lovely afternoon at the Mediterranean, we drove up to Granada and went on a moonlit tour of El Alhambra. We didn't know what to expect, and were pretty much blown away at the intricate decorations on the walls and ceilings. A very impressive building. We stayed the night in Granada, woke up late the next morning and had a lovely breakfast (at noon) of churros dipped in hot chocolate pudding (good, but could have used WAY more sugar) and gazpacho. It turns out that I really like gazpacho--it really hits the spot on a hot day.

Justin doesn't count a vacation a vacation unless he's climbed there...so he found a random mountain called El Chorro, and we headed off the beaten path to find it. We expected it to be in the middle of nowhere, and thought it was more than likely that we'd have to sleep in the car. In fact, when we saw a sign for El Chorro right in front of a tiny dirt road, we assumed that was the turn off. We took our little Ford Fiesta off-roading a little ways before seeing a road down below and deciding that maybe we should try that instead. It turned out that El Chorro is actually a major Spanish tourist attraction, much like Zion National Park combined with Lake Powell. (There are huge limestone rock faces and a really deep reservoir in the middle of the desert.) It also turned out we didn't have to sleep in the car because there was a sweet resort called La Garganta that had lovely little apartementos for us to rent. We liked it so much we stayed two days. The first day we went climbing with our chain-smoking, f-bomb dropping climbing guide, Sergio (the highlight of the trip for Justin.) And the next day we spent swimming at the clean, beautiful, not-too-cold lake (the highlight of the trip for me). We were going to climb up to this little pathway built across the gorge at El Chorro, but I had a last-moment panic attack, so we didn't do it.

Instead, we drove back toward Rota to catch our flight--which we thought would be around 8pm the next night. We stopped in Jerez de la Fontana to sleep for the night. Fortunately for us, we woke up at nine that morning (an hour or two earlier than the rest of the trip...it turns out that in Spain, they stay up late!) and called the air-base, because the flight had been moved up to 11:25 am instead. We high-tailed it back to Rota with just enough time, only to find a sign at the car rental shop that said, "Back at 11:30." STRESS!! We started booking it (with all our stuff) onto the base to sign in, and then we'd worry about the rental car after that. Fortunately, a nice family in a minivan stopped and asked if we needed a ride, and they drove us to the terminal on the base. Once we were checked in, Justin ran back to the rental car place and returned the car, and then ran back. Let's just say he was kind of sweaty. :) But we made it on the flight, and got back Sunday night.

It was a perfect week adventure! Click here to see the pictures.

European Adventure, Days 2 and 3: Arcos and Ronda

So we actually made it to Spain! We sat at the terminal at Dover pretty much all day Monday, but for some reason, it didn´t seem that bad. There were a bunch of nice people there (some of whom had been waiting for 5 days to make it on a flight). We flew on a C5--which is a huge cargo plane. It was pretty awesome. The best part was that there was enough room to lie down on the floor and go to sleep.



We made it to Spain early Tuesday morning, rented a car, and headed out to the hill towns of Andalucia. We went to Arcos de la Frontera in the morning (a beautiful white-washed city built on the side of a cliff, with small winding roads similar to venice). Then we set off to the next little town, Ronda, and that´s about when we hit a wall. Not literally, although, driving in Spain where we don´t know what any of the traffic sign mean, it´s probably fortunate that we didn´t hit a wall. And that we´ve actually found our way to the places we want to go. Anyway, we were both about to fall asleep by the time we made it to Ronda...so we found a hotel and took a nap.



We spent the evening wandering around the beautiful little village, again white-washed and built on the side of a cliff with an impressive bridge across a gorge. Anyway, this afternoon we´re heading to Granada, and tomorrow we are going to do some rock climbing. So fun!

Lord of the Flies

This weekend, Justin and I headed to the Shenandoahs for a little adventure in the mountains. It turned out to be a beautiful day, and when I say it was a beautiful day, I mean that I was wearing a t-shirt all day and wasn't cold.


We started the day by hauling up the mountain. Fortunately, Justin was carrying 50 pounds of climbing gear, which made it possible for me to keep up with him. Once we got to the top, instead of chilling with the scout troupe that was up there, we kept right on going in order to bushwack our way down to a hidden climbing area. I took some lovely pictures of the foliage (or lack thereof) and of Justin climbing.


Throughout the time Justin was climbing, there were little gnat-sized flies buzzing around...and they were very pesky, but I didn't think much of it. After Justin finished the route a couple of times, we made our way back up to the trail in order to find some easier stuff for me to climb. The climb we found ended up being a little harder than expected. I made it about three-fourths of the way, and then had to have Justin hoist me up. In my own words, "I had nothing left to give." We packed up our stuff, and hiked our way back to the summit where we tried (unsuccessfully) to capture the beauty of the day. Instead, we got a kind of lame self portrait in the sunset.


Anyway, it turns out that all those pesky little flies were doing more than just buzzing around. I realized when we got home, that I was being eaten alive!!! I've declared myself the Lord of the flies, since apparently, they LOVE my blood. Justin got a few bites here and there, but I got 22 bites on one leg, and 33 on the other. I look like I have leprosy!

The Clothing-Coordination Connection and Conference

I have discovered a simple truth. I am much more athletic when I'm fashionably clad than when I'm not. I was first made aware of this strange clothing-coordination connection two years ago when I started dabbling in tennis. The summer before moving to D.C. I spent a lot of time playing tennis with people in my ward, and I was never very good, until I bought my sweet tennis outfit. You know, a cute little skirt outfit that the pros wear. I'm not exaggerating, but my skills jumped significantly on occasions when I was wearing the outfit, and dropped back down again when I wasn't. I only bring this up because I have recently decided that I need some fashionable climbing/hiking clothing.

A couple of weekends ago, I went with my friends Katie D. and Roz and Justin to hike around Sugarloaf Mountain in Maryland. We had a great time--it was briskly cold, and actually snowed for part of the time we were hiking. The only down side to the experience was the number of colors that I was wearing. Note the outfit below: You don't see the full glory of my outfit in the picture, but when it got really cold, I was wearing about 6 different clashing colors. I had on Justin's green pants (I don't own any long pants that aren't jeans, so I had to borrow from my husband, which is clearly sick and wrong, but I will try to refrain from pontificating on the evils of a fashion industry who fails to actually sell clothing that fits a woman over a certain height...), my puffy red coat from the GAP (my sporty coat comes from the GAP because it's the only company that makes tall sized coats with sleeves long enough for my arms...), pink gloves, forest green wool socks, and white and lavender shoes. I'm pretty sure that I would be way better at climbing if I only had an appropriate outfit...And a word about Justin's hat--he couldn't find his beanie when we were leaving, so he just grabbed his biking hat, which is designed to fit under a helmet--in case you were wondering why Justin was wearing a swimming cap. But despite our current fashion-faux pas, we all had a lovely time in the great outdoors. (And, just so you know, I ordered some North Face pants when we got home. I know that I am ridiculous, but I guarantee I am more coordinated when I don't clash...and when I'm not wearing my husband's pants.)

In a totally unrelated note, Justin and I had a great time watching General Conference this weekend. It was a spiritual feast...and an artistic inspiration!


We may need to re-read Elder Child's talk when it comes out in the Ensign...I can't recall exactly what Justin was going for on the pinky-toe (that is Justin's foot, by the way), but we decided it looks like the family beaver. Every knows that every family needs a beaver.

Dude, I think you're in trouble...

This entry is chronologically misplaced. Technically, Justin and I had our adventures in home canning after our trip to Seneca, WV. However, I had to upload the canning pictures for an assignment for class, and I had no such impetus for these pictures, so you are getting an account of my life out of order. I thought about just skipping it and moving on with the next post, but when one scales the face of a very high cliff, one generally wants recognition for it. Such is the case with me. I actually climbed my way to the top of the cliff you see to the right!

How it works is Justin climbs first, and he puts gear in as he goes (so that if he falls the damage will be minimal...), then I follow and take the gear out as I go. The idea is to get both people and all the gear safely to the top.

Everything was going very well until my foot slipped unexpectedly. Usually when I fall, I'm well aware of the fact that it is going to happen. This time I was totally taken by surprise, and my hand was ripped across the sharp rock that I had been holding on to. I thought that I had hurt my elbow, but when I checked it, there was nothing wrong. And then I noticed that my finger was bleeding profusely. It looked pretty bad, but it was actually just a scrape.
And because I am so tough and rugged and outdoorsy, I decided that we should keep going to the top despite my damaged finger.

Okay, this next part is probably totally inappropriate for the internet, and someday if I ever run for office, I will probably wish it weren't here, but it is the funniest part of this whole adventure. So right after I made it to the 2nd anchor point (it took four pitches to make it all the way to the top of the cliff), Justin decided that he would go to the bathroom. Clearly, this is much easier for a guy when you are wearing a harness and standing on the edge of a cliff. I thought it would probably be a good idea for me too, but the logistical nightmare that it represented made me think that I could just hold it. That is until Justin told me that it would be about 4 more hours before we made it to the top, and we were about to leave the tree line. This was my only chance. So I went behind the rock that Justin had been hiding behind, pulled down my pants (a very tricky thing to do while wearing a harness) and squatted. I'm not exactly sure what happened, but something went terribly awry with my squat, and I started tumbling backward. (I think perhaps my backpack weighted me down wrong, or maybe it was just more of a hill than I had expected...either way, I started tipping backward). Though I wasn't super close to the edge of the cliff, I thought it would be a very sad way to go...falling off a cliff with my pants down, so I grabbed onto the rock, and noticed that there was liquid in the little crevace of the rock. And then I noticed that the liquid was warm. And then I realized, not only had I just fallen into the dirt on my naked bum, but I had put my hand into a puddle of Justin's urine. Everywhere I tried to grab seemed to be wet. Apparently, since I had said I wasn't going to go to the bathroom initially, Justin didn't attempt to localize the stream... (sorry, Justin...too much info...) So that was pretty darn funny.

Anyway, then came the part where I stood in a windy crevace for about two hours. This is the part of the story where I stopped having fun. It was so cold. And then when you are so cold that you can't move your hands, it makes climbing out on the edge of a cliff that much scarier. I think Justin realized that I maybe wasn't ready for Seneca when I started shouting at him that I wasn't having fun any more, and I just wanted to get off the stupid rock. (A guy who was at the top at the same time said to Justin, "Dude, I think you're in trouble. You should never take your girlfriend rock climbing." I'm pretty sure that my mom agrees with that guy.)

Fortunately, when I made it to the top, I was out of the wind tunnel and shade of the crevace, and feeling the warmth of the sun (and the possibility of soon repelling off the cliff) made me quite happy to be there, and I'm glad that I made it all the way to the top. I am also glad that now Justin knows not to take me climbing when it is cold and we are going to be in the shade all day. Important lessons for both of us.