Cramming the Weekend

This past week was the first week back to school for the kids.  Tuesday was E's first day (and mine) and Wednesday was L's.  Wednesday night we had swim lessons, Thursday evening an ice cream social at E's school, and Friday I had to get up for PT before work (more on that another day, but one thing I have discovered is there is nothing therapeutic about Physical Therapy).

You would think that for such a busy week we'd take it slow for the weekend.  Not when PCT Days is happening in Cascade Locks!  Not only that, I had my first group training run AND a bowling fundraiser to attend.  How was I going to cram it all in?  It seemed impossible, but I was determined.

Saturday morning, I got up and got myself ready to drive down to Road Runner Sports in NW Portland.  I had no idea where I was going, nor did I know what to expect.  I pulled in, walked in the store and saw my coach talking to a parent of a former student.  What the what?!?!?!  I couldn't believe it.  She joined our group run as a guest, and we spent the first two miles catching up and talking about how school is going for her son.  It was nice to have something to do other than listen to music and calculate how much farther I had left to go.  She turned around at the 2 mile mark to make it a four mile run, while I continued a little longer for a 5 mile run.

I didn't turn my music on, so I was alone with my thoughts:

Wow, over two miles and I don't feel the need to wet myself.
I didn't know the Dragon Boat races were this weekend.  I wonder if we can come here Sunday afternoon.
There's one of my teammates coming back.  I hope that means the turn around spot is coming up soon.
There's my coach.  She didn't see me and I put extra energy into smiling.  I hope I don't run out of energy now.
That guy on the bike is an ass.  It's people like him that makes people hate cyclists.  I think I hate him.
Hmm... was it this bridge coming up that has our water station, or the next one?
I don't remember running by Saturday Market on the way down here.  Am I lost? 

Lots of smiles before our run

Oh wait, I do remember running by Saturday Market.
Are those people really thinking they can drag their bikes down those stairs?  Should I tell them there's another way around?  Too late, I'm already past.
I wonder where M is now.  Should I have turned around when she did?  I'm supposed to run 6 miles today.  Should I run more later today or tomorrow? 
Hung Far Low.  Are you kidding me?  How long have I lived in Portland and I have never seen that sign?
Or maybe I have seen that sign and I just don't remember.  How could I not remember?  Am I really getting that old?

And so it went like this until my coach caught up on her bike and we talked and talked until I completely ran out of breath.  And I walked a little bit, which is strange for me because I ran 13 miles not too long ago and didn't walk one step.  But whatever, my pace was 10:36, even with the walking, so I guess I can't complain.

I like my coach, Kimberly Graime.  She feels really familiar to me, and reminds me a lot of my friend Beth.  Maybe her familiarity is what makes me like her.  Or maybe it's the fact that she told me to hold my arms close in to my chest when I run uphill, and it really did make the hill easier.  Either way, I like her, which is very important when training for a half marathon.

Somebody was not too pleased to meet Smokey.

I got home later than I expected, which means we left town later than we expected, but when we arrived at PCT Days, there was a great tent spot waiting for us.  We got to hang out for the night with hiker trash.  The kids became BFF's with another hiker trash kid, and we enjoyed trail magic and merriment, even when Nalgene bottles were raining down on us.

In the morning, we hung around at the ALDHA-West (American Long Distance Hiker's Association) thru-hiker breakfast, watching Freefall flip pancakes and AllGood make coffee.  The kids played, we talked and reminisced, and life slowed down for a few beautiful moments.

She makes bowling in a dress look easy

It was tough to pack up, as any time we're near trail folks, we just want to stay and hang out and do trail folk sort of stuff.  Alas, I had a fundraiser to get to - my first one for Team Challenge.  A bowl-a-thon at Grand Central Bowl.

He has amazing form.  No speed, but amazing form.

I brought the kids in with me while Paul went in search of food since he didn't have breakfast and was ready to eat his own arm.  I met more members of our bigger team, people who are doing walks, other runs, and alumni who have already done or or more Team Challenge runs.  Everyone thought E and L were adorable, which is good, since L was running around like a fool and crawling all over the couches like a monkey.  While I don't know how much we collected altogether, I think it was a successful fundraiser.  I didn't take a picture of the final score for our game because it's embarrassing for me, but I beat my children at least.

Can't even slow down for a picture.

We also were lucky enough to win some prizes in the raffle.  I kind of splurged and bought 20 tickets.  But come on.  It benefits the CCFA, so I kind of had to buy the tickets, right?  I won a cool reusable cup with lid and straw (which E has already decided to claim as her own), and a family pack to bowling night in Hillsboro. 

I typically don't plan so many events in one weekend.  I usually pick one big event and ignore the rest.  For this weekend, hiker trash would have trumped everything else.  But there I was, staring at my training plan, fundraising goals and time left to do it and realized that I needed to make the commitment.  I needed to figure out how to get everything to fit into this super-compact weekend.  I made the running and the fundraising a priority, and I made it to those two events.  I am committed to Team Challenge and the CCFA.  I am committed to Paul, and finding a cure and better life with UC.  I am committed to running and training for this half marathon.  I can do it!

Camping With Kids

I know it's technically not winter, but in NW Oregon, we have two seasons: Rain, and Going to Rain Soon.  When the rains come, it's officially winter in my book.  And what does a parent with two young children do during the 6-8 months of rain?  Pack them up in the car and head to the coast for some camping, that's what!

I know you just blinked your eyes, swallowed hard and said "What the what?"  in your head.  But "winter" camping on the Oregon coast is nothing like "winter" camping anywhere else.  For one thing, it rarely gets below freezing out here, and for another, we don't use tents.  We use yurts.  According to Wikipedia, "A yurt is a portable, bent dwelling structure traditionally used by nomads in the steppes of Central Asia."  The state park system of Oregon realized the benefits of having such in their campgrounds, and we discovered them many years ago.  They're cheaper than a hotel, and warmer than a tent.  Once we had kids, we realized it was the best way to camp.  It's kind of like RV camping but without the RV (or the satellite dish).  It's so freaking awesome.  If you have kids and live in Oregon, I highly recommend you look into it.

This past weekend we stayed at Ft. Stevens State Park.  We've never been to this particular park before.  I imagine it's insane in the summertime.  The campground part of the park is gigantic, with loops running the entire range of the alphabet.  The nice part about camping in the off season is that half the campground is empty, so you can let the kids run around with wild abandon.  Our yurt was on a hill, and the kids had a great time running up and down.

We packed in a hurry Friday night, and kind of forgot a few things.  Some things, like my camera and E's headlamp weren't terribly important.  Others, like our dutch oven and L's pants, were.  So Saturday morning, we drove into Astoria to get some breakfast and do some thrift-store shopping.

We found a quaint restaurant with views of the bridge.  The kids ate french toast with two kinds of syrup.  They thought they had died and gone to heaven.  We visited two different thrift stores.  The first, just around the corner from the restaurant, was a bust.  The second, located between Astoria and Ft. Stevens, was un-fucking-believable.  If I had realized I would be writing a blog about it, I would have taken a picture of it.  I would have taken TEN pictures of it.  It's called Penny-Wise Thrift Store, and it's amazing.  It's like everyone in the Astoria/Warrenton/Seaside area of Oregon cleaned out their garages and brought the stuff to Pennywise.  There is sooo much stuff!  You couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting a toddler ride-on toy, and when I couldn't find any kid clothing, the guy told me "That's next door."  I was confused, and then he explained that they had a second building where they keep women's & children's clothing and toys.  He gave us a key and we walked over.  The other building was a house.  The entire downstairs was filled with clothing and toys.  So many toys.  E wanted everything.  We had to remind her that we were there for pants for L.  But we ended up at the cash register with some pots and pans, pants, a musical jewelery box, a puzzle and alphabet stamps.  Nothing had price tags on them.  When we asked the woman about it, she said in a very cute New Zealand accent (I only recognize it as a New Zealand accent because she sounded exactly like my neighbors when I was growing up, who just happened to be from New Zealand), "That's because we have so much stuff and we're all volunteers, dear.  We can't put prices on everything.  All this benefits mental health, dear.  It looks like you have about $15 worth."  Paul looked in his wallet.  He had eleven.  I had conveniently left my purse in the yurt for the day, but remembered that we had a bunch of quarters in the car from when we were without a dryer for 6 months.  Paul really didn't want to do that, but the woman was excited, because "the fishermen are always looking for quarters to do their laundry.  They wipe us out all the time."  She offered us Dum Dum lollipops (which E insisted are "suckers" and definitely NOT "lollipops"), and was impressed when L took two, offered one to Daddy, and when Daddy said "Thanks, but no thanks," he put one back.  "You're doing a great job!" she said.  Thanks, lovely lady at the thrift shop, because I'm pretty sure I was doing a terrible job the night before when we realized we had nothing to feed them.  And I probably yelled at them about something stupid that morning.  I always yell in the morning.

After our trip, we decided to take a walk.  The sky was blue, and we figured we had a very short window of time to do much.  Within two minutes of leaving the yurt, the skies opened and down came the hail.  The kids didn't seem to mind.  They happily ran through it, tried to catch it on their tongues, jumped in puddles, examined leaves on the ground, and simply enjoyed the simplicity of being outside, in the rain, in the clouds, in the hail, in the wind.

Catching raindrops

Simple Pleasures

We roasted marshmallows after dinner, in the 30 minute rain reprieve before bedtime.

 

This morning, after packing up the car, we checked out the shipwreck of the Peter Iredale.  It ran aground in 1906, and the skeleton of its hull still stands at the beach, a constant reminder of the power of the sea.  Even though I grew up on the ocean, the Pacific still scares me.  The rocky beaches, freezing cold water, "sneaker waves," and this...

The Atlantic's got nothing on the Pacific

Please note that this photo was taken from quite a long distance away.  The wind was really whipping and I didn't want to get any closer.  Some day when we return and I have my good camera, I hope to go down there during low tide and get some awesome shots.  For now, you'll have to settle for crappy cell phone photos from 1000 feet.

We also took some photos to commemorate dragging the kids out in the whipping cold wind and rain.  This is what makes the memories, kids.

 Next, we went to the fort.  L fell asleep in the car in the five minutes to get there, so E & I walked into the museum together.  There was a gigantic diorama of the fort during WWII, and with the push of a button, a little train chugged down the line.  It was a hit with E.  After L woke up, we walked around the old fort, and found a lookout tower that offered some cover for our lunch.

I swear, my family is not homeless

We returned to the museum, played with the diorama again, and looked at the displays.  One of my favorites was of a letter a woman had written about the attack of Ft. Stevens by a Japanese submarine.  Not only was it amazing to read the first-hand account of what it was like to be attacked, it was amazing to read it in her handwriting.  I felt a closeness to her in reading the words that she penned, in trying to decipher her script.  How amazing and frightening that time must have been.

The Jetty & Mouth of the Columbia in the distance

West Battery

 

 

 

 

 

Climbing down the stairs from the watch tower

Google does this really cool thing when you upload photos.  If they're taken in quick succession, they get put together into an animated gif.  Well, here's one that was made today when my photos were uploaded from my phone.  It looks like the Jeep is moving!