The Last Hoorah: Part Four

...We took 4 days and skied, ice climbed, rock climbed, canyoneered, hiked, searched for shooting stars in the desert and drove 1,093 miles - welcome to a Marissa planned excursion....

Part Four: Castleton Tower, Utah

A quote by Kurt Vonnegut sums up my experience of our fourth day: "Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion.  I myself prefer to laugh, since there's less cleaning up to do afterward."  I wish I could say with integrity that the day was filled only with laughter.  Although, we are laughing about it now - a lot!

Because I tortured Brandon with hikes to arches, our final day in the desert was his choice.  Because we were in the area, and climbing a desert tower seemed like a geographically appropriate thing to do, that's what we did.  We set out to climb the classic Kor-Ingalls route up Castleton Tower in Castle Valley outside of Moab, Utah.  

Castleton Tower From Afar

We began the slog of a hike to the route.  It begins with a jaunt up a sandy wash and quickly becomes an uphill haul to the base of the tower.  Once over the scree slopes and to the base there's some 5th class moves with high consequence falls.

This is where I should confess that I have a fear of heights.  Well, I really have a fear of falling from heights.  Well, I really have a fear of falling period - heights just exacerbates the issue.  This fear has a tendency to cripple me whenever I look down.  Brandon scurried up to the base of Castleton while I precariously worked my way through the boulders.

Beginning the Slog

My ego prevents me from sharing all of the details of this exchange, however according to Brandon his intention included a rope for me - although this was lost in translation.  When we got through this section, we realized we were at the base of the North Chimney Route instead of our intended K.I. route.  We decided for several reasons to do the North Chimney: a.) It was in the shade,  b.) We were at its base and I had experienced trauma getting to it,  c.) I hate cracks and am poor at climbing them,  d.) There were other parties on the K.I route, and the North Chimney was available.

Brandon Starting the First Pitch of North Chimney

I find myself often honored by Brandon's assessment of my abilities.  There have been many times in the past where he has accurately assessed my athleticism and pushed me beyond my comfort level to reveal amazing results.  Previous adventures have left me fulfilled with personal pride and accomplishment, moments where I overcame my mental blocks and excelled in ways that surprised both of us.  This was not one of those adventures.

I struggled up this tower.  Something about the physical nature of crack climbing simply does not mesh with my body.  Embarrassing and miserable are the first of many terms that come to mind as I think how to describe this experience.  But, Brandon loved it and led it well.  We did manage to reach the top and it was beautiful and well worth the effort.

View of Mountains from Top of Castleton Tower

Reaching the top resulted in a great sense of accomplishment, and respect for Brandon's climbing ability.  It was a beautiful place to eat lunch and we had the top to ourselves.  But now that we're at the top, we have to get back down to the earth.  2 significant rappels got us there -  and provided another excellent opportunity for me to battle those fears of falling from high places. 

At the Top.  Getting Ready to Rappel Down

We marched our way out of the area and once at the car we experienced the fascinating phenomenon of Horse and Barn syndrome - a desperate need to get home.  Pizza was devoured at Pablo's Pizza in downtown Grand Junction and then we made a mad dash for home, a lengthy shower was indeed a necessity and our own bed a nice perk.

The Last Hoorah: Part Three

...We took 4 days and skied, ice climbed, rock climbed, canyoneered, hiked, searched for shooting stars in the desert and drove 1,093 miles - welcome to a Marissa planned excursion...

Part Three: Arches National Park, Utah

The desert stars in Escalante were unbelievable.  We feel lucky to live far enough outside of the city that we can see the stars, however getting out into the desert rekindles an understanding of just how spectacular and massive the heavens are.  Our original intention was to  stay in Escalante and canyoneer the Neon Canyon.  However, we deemed our success questionable due to my lack of a wetsuit.  This was compounded by the local guiding company having no advice on the route, as there had not been an attempt yet this season.  We decided to return to the Moab area for some hiking in Arches National Park instead.

Park Avenue in Arches National Park

There is something that happens in children and my spouse when it comes to doing things they don't love.  I am convinced that the energy we muster is directly correlated to the desire we have for the activity.  You tell a small child to walk to the end of the block and you often hear whines, whimpers and the shuffling of feet.  However, you inform this same child that there may be ice cream at the end of this street and skipping and giggles often follow.   Likewise, you tell Brandon that at the end of a 4 hour huff to the top of the mountain there may be an ice formation he's excited about and he'll make it there in record time.  I tell him that there is a neat arch at the end of the 0.6 mile trail and I get this:

Actually, Brandon is a real trooper, he's just never seen much point in just hiking.  This continues to be a discussion point in our marriage, as I love to hike and he likes to beeline it to the activity we are planning to enjoy.

Brandon Admiring the North Window Arch

So, we had a day for me - a day of hiking, and there really wasn't too much whining, whimpering or shuffling of feet.  We wandered to all the touristy spots, and enjoyed afternoon strolls.

Landscape Arch

We ended the day with the sunset at Delicate Arch. 

Marissa in Front of Delicate Arch.  La Sal Mountains in the Background

It was stunning to watch the colors of the desert become increasingly vibrant with the setting sun. 

Delicate Arch with La Sal Mountains and Desert Behind at Sunset

The hike out was equally amazing with awesome lighting. 

Brandon Walking Back to the Car

Overall, it was a fun and mellow day.  Great to see a little more of the desert and spend some time with each other.  We splurged with a burger and a beer at the local brewery in Moab and returned to our campsite to rest up for our next big day.

The Last Hoorah: Part Two

...We took 4 days and skied, ice climbed, rock climbed, canyoneered, hiked, searched for shooting stars in the desert and drove 1,093 miles - welcome to a Marissa planned excursion...  

Part Two: Escalante, Utah

Being vertically challenged generally presents more challenges than perks.  Reaching shelving often requires a stool, climbing feats or help.  People often describe one as "cute," a challenging descriptor especially to a woman who is striving to be professional, mature or sexy.  Brandon and I have gotten used to the terms, little people, short and hobbits and have even embraced them as our own self-descriptors (a means to self preservation).  However,  there is a distinct advantage to the small people of the world in the slot canyons around Escalante.  Brandon and I decided to take the afternoon and explore several of the slots.  In short we left astounded, water is an incredible element deserving of awe as a master sculptor.

Slot in Spooky Gulch

We explored both Peekaboo Gulch and Spooky Gulch, the most popular and least technical slot canyons in the area.  It's easy to create a loop out of these two slots, traveling up Peekaboo until it ends then crossing the desert for 1/2 mile to the east and drop into the top of spooky wash.  It's an awesome trip. 

Looking up at the Blue Sky

Peekaboo begins with steps carved into the rock and a couple of holes that have water in them (at least at this time of year).  We were able to negotiate around the holes without getting our feet wet - although I had some help from my friend.

Climbing the Steps into Peekaboo Gulch

 Spooky Gulch is much narrower, with some boulder jams to navigate in order to drop into the slot from the top.  There are some tummy-tuckers through this canyon!

Brandon Squeezing Through

Overall, a must-do!  Add it to the bucket list!

Slot Canyon with Sandy Floor

 

The Last Hoorah: Part One

Brandon and I decided to take a little road trip before he begins his position as Director of Youth Ministries at Crossroads Church.  This will mark a serious reduction in our hedonistic adventures and a welcoming to the new kind of adventures that lie ahead.  

We took 4 days and skied, ice climbed, rock climbed, canyoneered, hiked, searched for shooting stars in the desert and drove 1,093 miles - welcome to a Marissa planned excursion.  

Part One: Vail Colorado

We started our adventure in Vail.  A beautiful day with 12 inches of fresh powder for us in the back bowls.  I was excited to get a good day of tele skiing in before the end of the season, there is something magical about dropping a knee into that fluffy white stuff.  Brandon waited patiently for me as I learned to negotiate the deeper stuff.  This means more than one would expect as Brandon's mantra is "no friends on powder days".  I was well prepared for us to spend the day doing separate runs.  However, his mantra has been modified: "no friends on powder days, but always the wifey".  I appreciate the addendum.

Our agreement was that we would spend several hours skiing in exchange for a late afternoon/evening ice climbing session.  So we bid Vail goodbye and headed toward the Rigid Designator area.  We were hoping to climb an ice formation called The Fang, but it was not in shape to be a safe climb.  

The Fang

However, its artichoke-esque formation and beautiful color were stunning. 

The Bottom Looks Like an Artichoke

Brandon led his first mixed line, a M5+ route and then top-roped a M7, no falls. 

Brandon "Sussing-out" the Route

Brandon has so much grace when he climbs, he's strong, makes precise placements - a feat I have not yet grasped.  I hang awkwardly, scraping the rock with my crampons and flail with sharp extensions coming from all appendages - imagine a spasmodic Wolverine.

Brandon Getting to the Ice on Mixed Climb

We finished the day as the sun went to bed.  2 gentlemen who were climbing allowed us to use their rope to set up a climb on the Designator, a long, steep ice formation.  We were grateful for their generosity (thanks Randy and Chris).  To me, it seemed The Designator should be renamed  Energizer.....it kept going and going.  Brandon was able to do several laps before we called it a day.  

Marissa on The Designator

We slid our way down to our car (literally, making slides through the snow) and ate some burritos before hitting the road.  We pulled over outside of Grand Junction and spent the night in Ralph.  There is something contradictory in sleeping, and, parked on the side of the road in the back of your car.  Those two terms seem to be mutually exclusive, but none-the-less what we did.

3 Ladies and a Dude

If you haven't noticed, Brandon and I spend a lot of time together.  The reason is that we actually like each other, and want to spend time together - which is convenient considering we're married.  This past weekend Brandon planned an excursion without me.  This is hard for me for three reasons: 

a.) usually I want to come on the excursion because they sound fun

b.) his excursions are usually more interesting than what it is that I'm doing

c.) at least I'd be there to watch him die due to poor judgment or prolonged exposure

Disappointed that I was not invited on this adventure, but trying to be the supportive wife who wants her spouse to develop healthy friendships and be a boy, I went about making my own plans.  A snowshoe session in RMNP sounded just perfect.  

Mills Lake, RMNP

This was a girls trip: 2 ladies playing on snowshoes with me skinning on tele skis.  So it was settled, a late start time (noon, in contrast to Brandon's 3:30am wake up call), a mellow afternoon in the hills, followed by a viewing of the full super moon rising over RMNP valley and concluded with really good BBQ.  

Alex and Kiea Getting their Snowshoe Slog on

Well come 2:30am, Brandon received a text with a very good excuse, however with a bummer of a message all the same - plans canceled.   So now I'm stuck with a sullen husband, and epic plans with 2 lovely ladies to slog through RMNP, making snow angels and giggling. 

What resulted was a compromise, of sorts.  A day spent with 2 fabulous ladies, a husband elated with permission and myself terrified that I will lose my spouse in an act of poor judgment as I watch him ski off to free solo ice 5 miles into the backcountry.  

Getting Ready to Ski Away

I had vivid images of returning to the car and waiting for him to show up.  I had planned how I would send the girls to get cell service to call in search and rescue.  I would then slog back into the backcountry on my tele skis (after a fair amount of energy put into figuring out how to get my skins back on the skis without sticking to me), 5 miles to find his body half buried in the snow, impailed on his ice ax from his 50 foot slide from the bulge on the ice.  I had my plans of how I would use my extra jacket, his skins and poles to rig a sled to drag his beaten body back to civilization.  

 

And to think, all I wanted was a giggly day with girls, accompanied by some snow angels.  

Kiea Making a Snow Angel Trailside

The day ended well, 4 people back in the Subaru safely, a super moon viewed (although general consensus was that it wasn't that super, but lovely nonetheless), BBQ devoured.  But any day that ends with good BBQ really can't be that bad.

Chopsticks

Tonight we used chopsticks (thank you Thai family).  I love chopsticks.  I think they are fun, challenging and allow me to focus on the fact that I should enjoy my food as opposed to shovel sustenance into my mouth.  Tonight after dinner, chopsticks became a competition.  We have a bowl that we keep filled with almonds (again, thank you Thai family).  We spent some time trying to see who could get the almonds in and out of the bowl the fastest.  34 seconds was the winning time.  Please, try this at home.  In honor of our friends and family in South Korea....

Brandon is back to blogging, check out his blog here.  Between his studies and blogs, he is still longing for the mountains - and the use of his ice axes.  When I returned from the grocery I was met by a monkey on the stairs - a monkey with Wolverine-like arm extensions.  The stairs of our apartment complex have become Brandon's new dry tooling playground. 

The Approach

One of my favorite past times is backpacking (and long day hiking).  I love the journey on the way to a destination.  And sometimes the destination really isn't even the point of my outing.  I'm one of those ladies who stops to identify every wildflower and tree, I smell the roses...and the bark of the ponderosa pine... I throw rocks in the creek, and take pictures of the shadows of the aspen trees.  This can be a challenge for Brandon.  The trail that gets us to where we are going should be the shortest distance from the car to the end, diversions for Indian Paintbrush, and frogs is not always scheduled into the agenda.  Shortcuts are a part of many of our adventures, and sometimes rapidly deteriorate into long-cuts, which of course I love - more things to sniff.  Today, we had a bit of a shortcut, that ended in a slide.  I was ecstatic, Brandon annoyed.  

But Brandon doesn't see the journey, he sees The Approach.  These two words have changed my understanding and definition of journeys in the backcountry.  There was once a time in my life where walking 6 miles round-trip...at 10,000 feet...in tennis shoes...in the snow...with 25 lbs on my back...with a headwind going both ways!...somehow gaining elevation both ways!...would have been a hefty day adventure.  Since marrying Brandon, this is simply the approach.  The adventure BEGINS at the destination.  Getting there is only 1/4 of the battle, maybe 1/5.  

Today was a phenomenal compromise.  Brandon's approach was tempered by my lolligagging and slow pace as we marched our way through Rocky Mountain National Park's Glacier Gorge up to Loch Vale.  It was a spectacular day!  

Coming Around the Corner to Loch Vale

Once we completed the approach, we spent the day ice climbing a flow pleasantly known as Crystal Method. 

Crystal Method

The ice was brittle, and the temps were cold.  BIG ice fell often and freely, making negotiating the belay and safety at times a concern.  I have come away unscathed, Brandon has only suffered minor soft tissue injury.  

Brandon impressively negotiated the sketchy freestanding 70 foot pillar,

Brandon Saying "No" to Crystal Meth

and had some impressive moments on top rope on some delicate and challenging ice.

Getting Through Some of the Delicacies

 

Frankly, today was not my day to shine.  Fear gripped me, and when fear wasn't nipping at my crampons, fatigue nailed me in the form of sitting a lot on the rope.

Marissa Moving up the Ice

We all have our good days and bad....today I guess, I was much more into the approach and less the destination.

Free Soloing to Set up the Top-rope Anchor...don't know how he convinced me of that...

A Standard Saturday Night

Most American young adults (we still qualify) live for Saturday nights.  They've had Friday night to recover from their work week, they don't have to be anywhere too early Sunday morning - Saturday night is the night of freedom.   All over the world, people look forward to spending Saturday nights out on the town - in one form or another - with at least one person they like, and if they're lucky, love.  Some enjoy the movies, others romantic dinners, live music, coffee shops, dancing, dinner at friends houses, drinks, the ballet, a comedy show, window shopping, etc. 

But we're a little different.  We don't like the weekends much, as there are more people in the woods, at the crags and on the roads (and somehow they've forgotten how to drive in the snow since last week when it snowed).

Our Saturday was spent running some errands and then running one of our favorite trails.  Brandon was disappointed that his adrenaline was only elevated slightly today by an encounter with a thorn bush.  The testimony of his legs lead me to believe the bush won.  Our Saturday evening has consisted of leftover BBQ ribs, eaten around 5pm - an appropriate geriatric hour.  I'm certain I've killed a fair amount of time doing something.  And Brandon, is sharpening things.  

Brandon Sharpening Things

For the past hour and a half he has sat on the living room floor with a file and the crampons, making a noise akin to nails on a chalkboard and the wail of a dying baby bunny.  

Brandon Almost Finished with his Front Point

This ladies and gentleman, is our standard, geriatric Saturday night.    I can't tell you how much I love it!!

Brandon's Birthday Bash

Brandon has to report a new age today.  Yesterday we celebrated another year of his being around on this earth - and considering what we do for fun, for this we are grateful.  For his birthday we engaged in his most recent favorite perilous activity - ice climbing.  

Brandon Schooling Hidden Falls in RMNP

We were planning on checking out a new area of RMNP, however this choice would have required a 5:30am start.  You see, as a young, financially frugal couple - we have not purchased a National Park pass.  The wonderful National Park service, does not open the pay booth until a reasonable hour in the morning - meaning that if you are an early bird, with intention, you don't have to pay the entrance fee.  Thank you American Government.  Well, to be frank, a 5:30 start time seemed a bit overwhelming to the old man and his couch potato.  We opted for the 9am wake up and Not So Hidden Falls.
 

Brandon Through the Delicate Section

The day was beautiful, clear and cold - perfect for ice climbing, uncomfortable for me.  The wind was howling for the first half of the day, but we managed to stay warm enough.  What we have struggled with is how to manage hand warmth while ice climbing.  I have accepted the fact that I get the screaming barfies every time we go out.  I figure its good practice for increasing pain tolerance.  For a complete description of this phenomena see earlier post.   We have tested a fair number of different glove choices, different liners, different weights, different materials, and neither of us have found THE Gloves.  

Brandon and I made a trip to WalMart after a friend had suggested to him cheap acrylic liners and receiving gloves.  The receiving gloves became slippery when wet - not gonna work when you are climbing a major pillar of slow moving water.  The WalMart specials were simply not ok.  I tried double layering them, then I just sucked it up.  Today the barfies were different.  The barfies brought me to my knees. 

Brandon bought new ice axes for his birthday present (Black Diamond Fusions), and then he bought new pics for the new ice axes.  This was his first day out and about to use them.  He was excited about their performance and climbed well throughout the day.



We had a great time, enjoying the outdoors, the ice and each other.  Until next time....

Cycling 101

I am a terrible cyclist.  It's really true.  I lack some fundamental cerebellar function that makes riding a bicycle a natural thing to do.  I learned how when I was young, I rode about throughout my youth - a little, but riding my bike has never been easy.  I had a time where I was earthy and rode my bike to and from work, but even then I was first blind date awkward.  It's just the reality.  I drive around the Boulder area and watch pro cyclists, children and yes even old men gracefully cycle past.  I am a far cry from graceful.  And I've grown comfortable with this.

This state of awkward is compounded by the relatively recent edition of clip-less pedals to my spinning get up.  I can understand why an athlete would want to be intimate with their equipment, feel one with the bike.  I also recognize that cycling is much easier when attached, cutting the overall workload.  But there is something all together awful about not being able to put my foot down when confronted with any sort of bicycle instability.

Getting Equipped and Fit to the Bicycle...I Love the Comfort of the Living Room

I can't get my feet into the things, resulting in my riding down the street, legs pushing the pedals over and over madly to get up enough momentum to fight my feet into the pedals.  I coast along, swerving this way and that, pressing my poor shoes against their metal counterparts - "go into the hole, make that click sound, come on!"  I will the two metal bits together.  My momentum fades, and again I am left to awkwardly flail, feet out of the pedals.  Fail.  

I finally get the suckers matched and clicked, however this triumph is short lived.  In the time it has taken me to clip in to my bike, I now realize I am barely moving, completely unstable and swerving in and out of the bike lane causing traffic diversions that could be better described as detours.  Again, fail.

Now that I'm clipped into my bike, it should be easy right?  Not so much, for the rest of the ride I am focused.  From negotiating traffic, praying traffic lights will remain green and staying upright in the gravel, every cell in my being is deadpan set on staying alive.  Sometimes I question whether it is adrenaline or hypoxia that is the greater cause of my increased heart rate.

Awkward, but Clipped in!!!

Brandon is a pro cyclist.  And I'm not being hyperbolic.  He spent last fall in practices with some of the elite cyclists and kept up with the big boys - without much training.  When we go on our rider, he rides his fat tire bike (cross bike) so he doesn't get too bored, and I don't fall too far behind.  I've gotten over the fundamental embarrassment.  

Brandon Riding a Cross Race in the Fall

I appreciate his company when I ride.  Not only will I have someone to bear witness to any spectacular demise, he tells me when there's a car coming, and what gear I am in.  2 details that I tend to lose track of as I fend for me life. 

Despite all of the trials and tribulations of this sport, there is an element that I truly enjoy.  The views of the flatirons are magnificent, the enjoyment of riding when everything does click is awesome, the time spent with Brandon - all of these things make it worth the while.  

Brandon keeps telling me that I will get it, he encourages and supports.  He has also says that he doesn't know what's more stressful - going out together, or when I go alone...not certain what he means by that.  

If I decide to sign up for a triathlon, I best get my butt into gear and figure out how to clip in, negotiate traffic, and handle the two-wheeled monster (I call her Big Red).  For now, I approach Big Red with respect and trepidation. 

Back to the Grind....

Travel is one of the greatest gifts.  The opportunity to travel awakens something deep in oneself and simultaneously opens one's eyes and mind.  Travel can open other less enjoyable parts of oneself as well, but this is a minor setback in comparison to what one gleans.

However there is a monster that lurks behind the corner of travel.  Once one is safely home, feeling the comfort and familiarity of the American soil, this demon comes out and snatches away sanity.  This beast is known to many as jet-lag.

Despite all of my traveling, I only recall experiencing jet-lag once, when I was very young, my mother took my sister and me to Germany.  I recall awaking, starving, in the wee hours of the morn and unable to return to sleep.  That's been my experience hencetofore with this notorious beast.

Wendy Helping Out Peter

Brandon and I have been entangled in an all out war with jet-lag.  Nights laying awake until 6am, when finally sleep engulfs us and we awaken at....1pm.  We're hungry at all the wrong times.

My father has told me it's because it takes a little while for our souls to catch up with us.  You see, our souls just can't fly as quickly as the airplane.  Well I'm about to start playing Peter Pan and look for Wendy to sew my soul to the soles of my feet.

Despite this drawback, we are getting along fine.  The refrigerator is filled with food, we continue to seek gainful employment in our respective field of career ambition (which at times has been horrendously stressful) and we continue to play in our beautiful home.

We have been ice climbing four times since we've returned home....well thrice we have succeeded in our ambition.  We spent a sleepless night climbing near Golden, CO.  It was fun to be back on the ice, and Brandon was sated....albeit brief.  You see, Brandon bought new ice axes, which were causing him to itch to get out and use them.  The BD fusions have found a space in our apartment.  This new addition increases his need to get out to the ice.  

Last Friday we spent the afternoon and into the dark evening climbing at the very picked out Hidden Falls (NOT so hidden) in Rocky Mountain National Park.  The ice was very brittle, causing the falls to fracture often.  Fun to watch my spouse lead up the falls, as large chunks of ice rained down upon me.   Brandon had a bad case of the 'One-more-sies' a phenomena all wives and mothers hate - why do we have to become the bad guy, the spoiler of good times?  Its dark, we've been here for hours, I can no longer feel my appendages and my muscles ache....

Brandon Putting in the First Screw on Hidden Falls

We did have a go at dry tooling and mixed climbing, which I actually enjoy a lot more than Ice climbing (although it's more challenging - serious strength required).

 

Saturday we went on a reconnaissance mission into Dream Canyon outside of Boulder.  Our hope was to find that ice had formed on the ever popular Boulder Falls.  The Open Space Board closes Boulder Falls during the winter (somehow contradicting their namesake).  Our plan was to approach the falls from above.  Getting into the canyon was a scrambling challenge, but did not phase us.  The thin ice creek on the other hand.....

Dream Canyon and the Thin Ice Creek

Brandon decided that all we needed was a big stick to determine whether or not the ice would hold.  And he triumphantly marched up and down the banks of the river prodding through the snow to the ice.  He only fell through half a dozen times.  Call me timid, or effeminate, but I was less interested in getting wet.

Brandon and his Big Stick

As dusk fell, we retreated up the canyon, only to discover that we covered almost no ground at all on the canyon floor.  I'm certain that the attempt will be repeated - or we'll just risk trespassing violations when the itch for new ice gets too great.  Which will likely be soon....

As the man is addicted.  We spent this morning climbing several different falls, but he is still wandering the apartment in his long johns, hooking his ice ax to shelves and complaining to me about how he "just wants to swing them....break things, make them shatter."  He has set up a pull-up system on our little deck - that has seemed to distract him...briefly. 

 I'm certain more adventures are to come....

Adjust the Seasoning

Yes another cooking blog.  As it is a part of my daily routine (at least once a day), I find myself often cooking, or planning on what to cook, or buying food in order to cook it, or simply eating. 

I have several recipes memorized – you know the ones, the weekly rotating few, and I prefer to cook from memory or make it up.  I often find myself perusing the cooking book aisle at Borders for ideas that I then attempt to make faster and less expensively – sometimes to the detriment of flavor and edible nature.  Oh well, sorry Brandon.

When I do use a recipe, I am often terrified.  This is because if I use a recipe and it tastes terrible its all my fault.  I can’t use an excuse like, “must have forgotten an ingredient” or “that didn’t work the way I expected,” a failed recipe is a personal affront on my literacy. 

Thus brings me to my least favorite words in cooking: adjust the seasoning.  Often I have just added a long list of spices I am not honestly all that familiar with and I’m supposed to somehow know how to adjust to taste?  I struggle with adjusting salt and pepper – which has led me to often omit both and resolve to do it yourself seasoning adjustment. 

Last evening I decided to attempt a Moroccan stew recipe my mother in law made for us while we were in Bend.  I figured, stew, it must be pretty straightforward.  Little did I know… I found myself day two on a three day process.   

I did modify the list of spices a bit (hoping ground spices are equal in worth to the seeds, and hoping that saffron doesn’t add too much to a dish).  As I added the spices to the pot, browning them alongside their friend’s onion and garlic, I added a heaping teaspoon of cayenne.  Brandon immediately said, “something’s wrong, have you cooked with all these spices before, I feel funny.”  

Yes, we are both sitting in our little apartment, throats itchy, eyes watering, an increased frequency in both cough and sneeze from the two of us.  I turned back to the recipe, had I done something wrong?!?!  No, recipe called for 2 heaping teaspoons cayenne, I halved it because I know Brandon is sensitive to spice.  Next step.  And then those dreaded words: adjust seasoning. 

Well, let me tell you that the seasoning that the recipe originally called for is what exists in that stew pot, and is what is stewing.  Perhaps I should lie out the sleuth of spices alongside the salt and pepper tomorrow for the ever popular do it yourself seasoning adjustment.

South Korea in Summary

Now that we are back stateside, I feel a need to chronicle our final adventurous days.  Beware: this is going to be a long one!  I have broken it into sections, so scroll down to the section that may interest you specifically.  There you have it: my caveat. 

Our Reflection in City Art Along Anneliese's Street

  

THE CHALLENGES OF EATING CONTINUED...
 

I am happy to report that our GI systems reached a symbiotic relationship with the local microbes.  The battle was won, but that being said, the war to find things to eat was an ongoing feud.  

Eating Mussels

Food in Korea is fascinating!  There is something to be assumed I am sure about a culture that has no distinction between what food is eaten at different meals - kimchi and noodles for breakfast, lunch and dinner.  Also something to be said about a culture where ovens do not exist.  Fry much?
 

Dumplings for Lunch!!!

I am happy to try just about anything, and throughout my world travels I have been hard pressed to find a culture where I don't like anything.  Korea has impressed me, I can passionately report that Korean food does not settle well.

Historically I have found that eating street food is the best bet when traveling - it's fun, entertaining and often the best and cheapest food to be found.  Korea is different.  The street food is all fried and generally unappealing.  I did try Hoddeuk, a fried dough filled with cinnamon sugar and rolled in nuts.  Its tasty - but a ticking gut bomb. Brandon neglected to partake - probably a wise decision on his part.

Frying Hoddeuk

Poor Brandon spent the trip even more weary of food since his near death experience.  He tends to eat the things he recognizes and that smell ok.  Korean food does not smell ok.  But we managed and subsisted on a balance between scouting out American food and timidly trying new things.   Gorilla Burger - a decent joint downtown fulfilled his needs and this meal was perhaps the happiest he was.  Its reasonable for American food - and the portions are HUGE!  2 burgers fed the 2 of us til we popped and was Anneliese 's dinner (we took the rest home).  We also discovered decent pizza at Mr. Pizza.  Interesting, Mr. Pizza's motto is "Made for Women" yet another idiosyncrasy that I don't entirely understand.

BBQ Burger at Gorilla Burger

But we also sought out the Korean and indulged in cultural experiences, for example Bondaegi.  For your entertainment....the tasting of Bondaegi - fried silk worm larvae.  They are crunchy and salty and have the unfortunate tendency to get stuck between your teeth.  yummy. 

NO PHOTOGRAPHS ALLOWED: The Trip to the Jimjilbong (Korean Bathhouse)

Anneliese and I spent a morning in the jimjilbong, or Korean bathhouse.  It was an incredible experience - one that I would recommend to anyone who visits Korea.  When you enter the bathhouse you are given a pair of big shorts and a big t-shirt.  You promptly remove your shoes - then all of your clothing.

There are 2 parts of the bathhouse - downstairs is a gender separated shower room.  Here women come to get as clean as humanly possible.   Well as clean as you can be without any sterilization processes (I chose not to think too much about it). There are tubs of water of varying temperatures (freezing to HOT), showers you stand under, showers you sit in front of, basins for splashing water, removable shower heads to get all those hard to get places.

The entire place is filled with naked women trying to get clean - scrubbing.  You can also pay to have a professional scrub down.  I neglected to do this, something about a middle-aged Korean woman in hot pink lacy panties scrubbing my skin from my body in the name of vain beauty wasn't too motivating - call me bashful.  Anneliese, and her co-workers swear by this treatment, stating that their skin was so smooth in the end.  Personally - not interested. 

It was very cool to see women of all ages together, scrubbing.  Little girls, teenage girls, middle aged women, elderly women.  Mothers, daughters, grandmothers, sisters, cousins, old friends, young friends, and then the two Americans.  The two Americans not scrubbing.

The upstairs is a series of saunas.  Varying again in temperature from cool (the 'ice' room) to HOT (68C or 154F).  There is a pine room, herb room, clay room, salt room, and in all of them you nap.  Its a culture of sleeping.  That being said, there are also separate male and female bedrooms (dark with padded floors) and the jimjilbong is open 24 hours a day.  If I was younger, singler, and traveling - this is where I would sleep at night.  There are several restaurants near the nap rooms and it is the safest place in the city (they strip you to your naked self and give you pj's for the night). 

GATBAWI 

We did do some "cultural" excursions while in Daegu, one of the highlights was a trek up to Gatbawi.  Gatbawi is a large Buddha carved from granite on top of a mountain.  Its a serious uphill walk to reach the thousand plus stairs to reach the summit.  The number of stairs is undetermined - local lore says there are 1700.  The number chalked onto some of the steps is roughly 1300.  We didn't bother counting.

The start of the steps

This temple has quite the draw as it is believed that this Buddha hears and answers at least one prayer a day.   We were the only foreign people on the hike, and were rewarded by wonderful prayer at the top.

Buddha peaking from behind the rocks

Getting to the temple is an easy bus ride from downtown area.  Its the best as it will pick you up at the subway station by a large bridge with an odd sculpture (hard to miss), and Gatbawi is the last stop on the route.  It's hard to mess this one up, even when you can't read or speak the language. 

That is our trip in highlighted summary.  We are now back in Broomfield, facing the realities that are this life.  I already want to get back on an airplane, I've heard Bangladesh is beautiful this time of year.  Brandon is happy to be ice climbing again.  We are both grateful for an oven.