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50 Crazy Things in my 50th Year #22 – Follow intuition and rediscover magic

/ Vesta Giles / 1 Comment
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Hello gorgeous! One goal accomplished but it was so much more than just taking pictures of a moose.

At the beginning of each ski season I set some goals – how many km I want to ski, how many times I want to ski, and what wildlife I wanted to see and photograph. I usually reach the km and visit goals, but never the wildlife ones. This year my goals are to ski 700 Km, go skiing 55 times, and photograph the front end of a moose, a lynx, and an owl.

Christmas Eve, 2015 – Like many of my other crazy things, this just started as a normal day.

First, some background. After I graduated from university I moved to Dublin for six months of doing nothing. I had already spent two months backpacking around Britain and Ireland.  It seemed like a stupid and frivolous thing to do, go back with no plan, but it was easily one of the most important things I’ve ever done.

I was exhausted from school. After graduating with a science degree all I wanted to do was be a writer. I felt, at times, like I had wasted four years of my life. I hadn’t it turns out. That science degree is always valuable when I least expect it. More importantly I felt like I had lost my way. The strong, intuitive part of me had been ignored and devalued. Moving to Dublin gave me an opportunity to reclaim that part of myself. I didn’t know how I was going to do it but I knew I would. It took me a few months to figure it out, but eventually I was able to let go of lists of things to do, obligations to others, and expectations of others. It’s probably the only time I’ve lived completely for myself.

I was alone, intentionally, and it was an incredibly important time in my life. I learned that when I followed my instincts I could create magic. Amazing things happened. Coming home, and in the years since, the challenge has always been to find a way to live that honestly with myself, and at the same time live in a world where I had lists of things to do, obligations outside of myself, and people I loved who had expectations of me.

This year on Christmas Eve I had to work a half day in Logan Lake at the Library. It was a good day – fun and festive. Two friends brought me pizza for lunch because I had complained that staff who worked Christmas Eve at the bigger branches in town were given pizza. In the smaller branches we got nothing. My homemade pizza and a can of coke arrived and it was delivered by two people I adore. It was yummy! Pretty awesome day so far. In the past few years I have surrounded myself with amazing people and they even bring snacks!

I planned to go for a long ski at Stake Lake after work and then get into the festive spirit when I got home. When I got to Stake it was almost 2 pm and I realized I didn’t have as much time as I thought and a long ski was out of the question. I’m a creature of habit so I thought I’d just do one of my other regular routes, a shorter one that would only take me an hour or so. As I was setting out, I realized that for some reason I wasn’t going to take that route and I really didn’t know where I was going. I felt that instinct sensation, a homing device in my spine, and I knew I just had to follow along and go wherever I felt like I should. I ended up in an area I don’t usually gravitate to because it’s full of steep trails that are often icy.

I believe that wildlife, or any kind of wonder in the world, allows you to find it, and you can only find it when you’re ready to receive it. You can’t go chasing it. You have to be open to it and it will let you in. It’s like riding a wave – if you catch the wave it’s amazing and you have that mythical feeling of being one with it. Sounds corny, but I think it’s true. If you try and force it – well that’s just painful and rarely gets you the results you’re looking for. I usually know when I follow my instincts and ride that wave, something special will happen. This time I wasn’t disappointed. I came around the corner and found myself face to face with a moose calf – one of the moose that regularly hang out around the ski trails. This wasn’t the first time I’ve seen a moose, or her in particular, but it was the first time I’ve been this close (and not in a car), and the first time I’ve had the time and the space to get some really good pictures.

As I came around the corner she looked up at me from where she was standing and eating. She acknowledged me, and then continued looking for food. We had at least 20 minutes where I slowly moved closer and took more pictures. I didn’t see one skier, and it was a busy day at the trails, the whole time I was with her. I was about 20 ft from her and I’m pretty sure I took over 100 pictures. Finally I knew I was done. I skied past her, maybe 10 ft away. She looked up at me, and then walked off into the bush. It was like she was waiting for me. It was the best Christmas present ever.

Why was this a crazy thing?

I had to slow down, and remember to follow a feeling that used to be so familiar to me. It used to be second nature. Now I have to remember it and relearn how to access and sustain it. Instinct is powerful and it’s like a muscle – it has to be worked and trained.

Would I do it again?

Absolutely. I have to keep working that instinct muscle and I’m committed to stopping and taking the time to appreciate beauty when I see it. I have to be prepared to catch the wave and enjoy the bounty at the end. I still have the owl and lynx to go this winter and I may or may not get lucky, but that’s OK. I had the moment and that is better than anything. I’ve seen this lady a couple of times since, never in good enough conditions to get good pictures. I always smile at her, nod in acknowledgement. Maybe she’s smiling too.

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My moose selfie! I wasn’t brave enough to turn my back on her when I was really close so I waited till was further away.

50 Crazy Things in my 50th Year #21 – do a virtual run

/ Vesta Giles / 1 Comment

Maybe this isn’t crazy by some standards but it was to me. I have heard about ‘virtual runs’ in the past year but hadn’t actually participated in one until December 15th, which was also National Cupcake Day in the United States. Virtual runs are when you register for a particular event but you don’t have to travel – everyone who registers does it a home and then posts their results online. Beat the Blerch had a virtual option for people who couldn’t travel to one of the races and the Hogwarts Running Club, an online virtual running club, hosts a number of Harry Potter themed virtual runs through the year. The first one of 2016 is the Molly Weasley Ugly Jumper Run on February 6th, which is Arthur Weasley’s birthday.

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Each time I wanted to do a virtual run this year it either sold out, I was low on funds, or I couldn’t make the timing work. You still have to finish the run within a certain date range so it’s not like you can just do it whenever. The cool thing is you still get awesome medals (it’s all about the bling!) that they mail to you and you still have a sense of participating with a group. The thing is, however, you really need to do something to make the run special. When you run in a big event you have the crowd, fellow runners, the starting and finish lines, on route entertainment, and a racing element that even inspires turtles such as me to experience a boost of adrenaline. With a virtual run you either create that for yourself, or it could be a bit boring.

When we were at the Rock n’ Roll 10K Krista, Monica, Trisha, Jody and I were playing with the idea of doing one and the Cupcake Day 5K was an early contender. The medal was awesome (we’d seen it online). The charity was great – Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research. Plus, the race organizers wanted you to do it on or as close to December 15 as you could. December 15 is National Cupcake Day and if possible celebrate with cupcakes – how can you go wrong with cupcakes?

We decided to do it as a group and Tracy joined us as well. Trisha couldn’t do it on actual National Cupcake Day with us so she did it on another day. We planned our 5K so our starting and finishing line was at Sweet Spot Cupcakes in Aberdeen. I think the owner, Natalie, thought we were nuts but funny at the same time.

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Natalie from Sweet Spot Cupcakes

So December 15th came and because I’m just that kind of person I cross country skied 12 hard km of hills in the morning and then ran on icy and snowy streets that night. My legs were dead at the end. But we ran, slipped a lot, one of us fell on ice (oddly enough it wasn’t me!), and looked at Christmas lights while we made our way along our 5ish Km route. We got to the end and according to Run Keeper, the app we use to track our activities, we weren’t quite at 5K yet so we did laps around the Canadian Tire parking lot to make up the distance. After that it was all sugar… I had a candy cane cupcake and it was awesome!

Why was this crazy?

We had to make it crazy, and fun, and different, and way out of the ordinary. We all run all the time and 5K isn’t really that big of a deal, but we made it an event and celebrated the journey. And we all have the medal to prove it. The thing is, why don’t we make every day special and celebrate more? It’s not really that hard.

Would I do it again?

Of course! I’m already looking for more virtual runs. They’re fun and easy on the travel budget as well. Plus, I have the best running buddies in the world and we can make anything fun!

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50 Crazy Things in my 50th Year #20 – Night skiing away from civilization

/ Vesta Giles / 2 Comments

The date was December 10, 2015. This did not start out as a crazy thing.

I stopped at Stake Lake on the way home to go for a night ski. It was my first night ski of the season and it was snowing pretty heavily but the skiing was still pretty good.

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At the beginning of my ski… I was still smiling!

Normally when I ski at night I stick to some green, or easier trails, that are close to the ticket booth and the lodge. I’m usually alone and it just always felt like the thing to do. It might be that I just wasn’t thinking, or it might be that I had lost my mind, but on one of the darkest nights of the year I chose a 9km route that took me far away from the ticket booth on a two hour ski in pitch black darkness. Half way through I knew I was sinking seriously deep into crazy territory.

I realized, all of a sudden, that I had never done that before. Even when I skied with someone else at night we stuck to the trails that were closer to the parking lot and staff at the ticket booth. That night I didn’t see one other skier until I got back to the lit trail at the lake.

It was dark, snowing hard, and there were no stars or moon visible. All I could see was the dim circle around me created by my headlamp. I saw fresh animal tracks all around me and I kept picturing the mythical Gruffalo, from one of my favourite children’s books by Julia Donaldson, walking behind me. My overactive imagination didn’t help. I know there is a cougar out there, and some lynx, some wolves, and bunnies that are probably pretty vicious too. I was imagining all of them, watching me, in the woods, just out of the light where I couldn’t see them. Sure, laugh now, but if a fluffle of bunnies ganged up you when you had skis stuck to your feet you might not fare so well either. And yes, a group of rabbits or bunnies is called a ‘fluffle’ – there, now you’ve learned something new today. Sometimes they are referred to as traveling in a herd or colony as well. Either way they’re quick and they’ve got big teeth, and those feet…!

The whole time I was out there my imagination pretty much ran as wild as the wildlife all around me. “If you go out in the woods tonight…” at first I had this stuck in my head, over and over and over.

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For some reason my shadow didn’t seem scared.

Then I moved on to rewriting the Gruffalo, one of my favourite kids books ever, to feature a librarian instead of a mouse. I did it all in my head… over and over and over!

A mouse (librarian) went for a ski in the deep dark woods,

a (cougar/ lynx / moose / fox / wolf / chainsaw wielding serial killer) saw the mouse (librarian) and the mouse (librarian) looked good!

Where are you going to, little brown mouse (librarian)? come and have lunch in my underground house.

It’s terribly kind of you, (Fox/ cougar/ lynx/ moose / wolf / serial killer…), but no—– I’m going to have lunch with a gruffalo.

“A  gruffalo?  What’s a gruffalo?”

“A gruffalo!  Why, didn’t you know?

He has terrible tusks, and terrible claws,

And terrible teeth in his terrible jaws.”

“Where are you meeting him?”

“Here, by these rocks,

And his favourite food is roasted fox.”

“Roasted fox!  I’m off!” Fox said.

“Goodbye, little mouse,” and away he sped.

“Silly old Fox!  Doesn’t he know,”

“There’s no such thing as a gruffalo!”

At about the halfway point, with my heart pounding wildly from skiing and the side effects of my wicked imagination. I stopped to catch my breath and I actually considered turning off my headlamp to see just how dark it really was. This year I have faced many of my fears and I’m not one who is usually afraid of the dark, but there was no way I was turning off that headlamp! I practically gave my own head a shake. I was pretty sure that chainsaw wielding serial killer would be standing right in front of me when I turned the light on again. And at the point where I would turn the headlamp on again he would crank up the chain saw and I would absolutely jump out of my skin.

At the end of the 9km loop I reached the lit trail that circles the lake and leads back to the parking lot. I have never been so happy to see the lights of the trail system, civilization! I practically hugged the first skier I saw. That might have been awkward!

Why was this crazy?

Seriously? It was crazy because I managed to scare the crap out of myself without even planning to.

Would I do it again?

Maybe….

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This was actually taken the next night, on those lovely green trails closer to the parking lot and civilization. Me thinks they might be lynx!

 

50 Crazy Things in my 50th Year #19 – Drive home in my pajamas

/ Vesta Giles / 1 Comment

OK, this didn’t start out as one of my crazy things. It was, however, pretty out there for me and definitely qualified!

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This is how I started my day – reasonably well dressed library branch head!

Nicole Hampton-Montgomery and I have co-lead the Parent Child Mother Goose program in Logan Lake for five or so years. We love it and we love singing and rhyming with all the little ones (age 0-5) and their parents. Each Mother Goose session runs once a week for eight weeks. On the last night of each session, and sometimes on random nights, we will have pajama night and everyone, parents, kids, and Nicole and I all wear our pajamas. It’s a lot of fun and they like seeing us dressed funny.

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Pajama night at Mother Goose – not showing faces for privacy reasons and also we just like feet pictures for some reason. Those are my Santa socks up near the top.

Now, Nicole and I have matching pajamas because she was lucky enough to find them at the Walmart in Merritt. She texted to see if I wanted a pair and I said, Hell ya! Who wouldn’t want a pair of blue flannels with Olaf from Frozen on them??? Duh!

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Later, Nicole and I in our matching Olaf pajamas. She hadn’t yet thrown down her evil dare.

I always come directly in my dress clothes from work and change when I get to the high school where we hold the program. Usually, I change back in to my dress clothes to do the 45 minute drive home….. usually!

On December 2nd, Nicole, one of my best friends, threw down a serious dare. I went to go change after everyone had left and she, in a most horrible and evil way, said “I dare you to drive home in that!” It was just like that, she threw down a serious dare and there was no way I could get out of it. “Come on, Crazy girl, show us what you’ve got.” She just stood there grinning, taunting me.

In reality she wanted to leave and didn’t want to wait for me to change, but when a dare is thrown down it’s a big deal. I had to do it.

The dress boots – the only shoes I had besides the Santa Claus socks I wore that night to complete my ensemble, made the outfit.

I reluctantly agreed. I don’t wear my pajamas out in the real world. I’ll wear a lot of other embarrassing things but I cringe if I have to run out to the car because I forgot something and I’m in my pajamas. Apparently, though, according to a visual survey at Walmart – for most people it’s not that big of a deal!

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How I drove home that night, pretty much convinced for the entire 45 minutes that I was about to be arrested for multiple fashion violations.

So, dreading it, I got in the car and started the drive home. I was a bit paranoid… what if I had a tail light out? I renewed my insurance… didn’t I? What if I’m in an accident?

I’m pretty sure I was the most cautious driver on the road that night, particularly given the fact that I know some of the Logan Lake RCMP officers and getting pulled over by one of them would only make the situation worse… much worse!

On that note, my drove home at about 7:30 on Wednesday nights is usually pretty quiet. I see some traffic going to the mine, and some skiers once I hit Stake Lake. On that night, however, I saw a record number of emergency vehicles with their lights on. It was unbelievable! Police, ambulances, all over the place!

When I finally got home (slower than usual) and my mom greeted me at the door she was visibly surprised. “It was a dare,” I told her, without waiting for her to comment. “I blame Nicole!”

Why was this crazy?
Not sure but for some reason, my pajamas are meant for lounging at home or singing The Wheels on the Bus at Mother Goose! This was just wrong!

Would I do it again?
Not if I can help it!

50 Crazy Things in my 50th Year #18 – The Moustache Miler – Spontaneous Mingling

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I really hadn’t planned to go to Vancouver late in November. It’s not usually a time I drive down unless I have to because the roads can be very hit or miss. After meeting Gord Kurenoff from the Vancouver Sun at the Rock n Roll 10K, though, I suddenly realized I needed to do something a little spontaneous. He invited me down for the Moustache Miler – a fundraiser for prostate cancer and part of the activities planned for Movember. The idea is you run, you wear a moustache, and you have fun… all for a good cause. I realized I could get some business done as well when I came down so I threw caution to the wind and registered. I didn’t plan a lot, I felt very disorganized, and yet I just went for it. I planned two business meetings for the same trip to maximize my time and then I enjoyed two solo nights in a hotel with no schedule other than running the race on Saturday.

Gord and I had became friends on social media and he nudged me into coming and wearing a costume for the event. He was running as a moose with a moustache – a moostache (Gord is bursting with puns!).

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Gord Kurenoff – Moostache Miler

Deciding on a costume that Gord suggested, I promptly got busy doing other things and didn’t get my costume together much before the event. In fact, the important elements in the costume didn’t come together until the night before.

The Costume

My costume? The Swedish Chef from the Muppets! Gord had listed off a pile of famous moustaches for potential costumes and when he said the Swedish Chef a lightbulb went off in my brain! I love the muppets, I love the Swedish Chef… and hey… I’m Swedish!

Aside from a chef’s hat I got at Value Village in the Halloween area, a white apron from Krista Dick, and a plaid shirt I already owned, I had no idea how I was going to pull it off. How would I make my moustache and eyebrows? They were the key element in the costume. It wouldn’t be a Movember costume without a moustache!

It wasn’t until the day before the race that I was walking around downtown Vancouver looking for an idea when I finally came up with it in a cheap Vancouver souvenir store. I felt bad, for like a minute, but the colour was perfect, the price was right, and I had brought a sewing kit just for this purpose. That night in the hotel room I got to work.

RIP Squatchi

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Yup, I did it 😦

I skinned the little guy, one of the Vancouver Olympic mascots, and made eyebrow shaped pieces that I sewed right to the chef’s hat (stroke of brilliance)… I had started out thinking I would tape them to my eyebrows or my glasses but this worked way better. After a few attempts that didn’t look right I finally got a pair that worked. I had to wonder if Vanoc (the Vancouver Olympic Organizing Committee) or the IOC (International Olympic Committee) was going to come after me for desecrating a sacred mascot from an event that happened five years earlier… they have spies everywhere! And who knew my hair is the exact same colour as Squatchi?

Next, the moustache. I carefully studied pictures of my hero and finally came up with an appropriate mustache shape. There was so much mascot hair all over my room I’m sure the cleaning staff were going to be seriously confused… or maybe they were just too smart to ask questions.

The Swedish Chef
A reasonable facsimile

I used double sided tape for my moustache, which worked in the beginning but by the end of the run had no stick left. Gord told me later that the moustaches always fall off due to the sweat factor and the best results came from using the glue that people stick false eyelashes on with. Obviously, I’ve never used false eyelashes… that seems pretty obvious.

Gord the Moose and I had fun. I met his awesome (and very tolerant) wife, and his mom and step dad who were doing their first 5K walk that day.

The Moose and the Swedish Chef!
Gord the Moose with former Canuck Dave Babych

As a run it sucked – don’t wear flannel when running… I also can’t believe how poorly I run whenever I’m in Vancouver, it’s like I can’t breathe because of the humidity. But, I finished, got lots of high fives, lots of laughs, and had a really good time.

I still know nobody there except Gord and his family but I had a lot of fun.

Why was this crazy?

I don’t usually go to small events like this alone when I don’t know anybody. My introvert self kicks in and wants to hide in the corner and wish it would all go away. Not saying I didn’t do that, but at least I showed up! I didn’t say no just because I knew exactly how I would react. I forced myself to interact with strangers, have fun, and be lighthearted. Leaving the after party in the early afternoon I was exhausted… mingling is very hard work for an introvert!

Would I do it again?

Ugh. Yes. I will probably never like being in that position but every time I put myself out there it will likely be a lot easier. The run itself was great fun – I’d love to see one in Kamloops, and I’d definitely go do it again… but maybe not wear flannel next time!

Oh, and did you see Gord’s blog? I made two of his blogs this year and even his year end review… gotta up my game next year to three or more!

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Got the moutache medal!

50 Crazy Things in my 50th Year # 17 – Wear a wedding dress

/ Vesta Giles / 2 Comments

white weddingSo, obviously, I’ve never been married and I’ve never even really entertained the whole big wedding dream idea. It’s safe to say that even if I was going to get married, the whole wedding industry would collapse if they were relying on my business. The spectacle, the attention, the formality – I usually don’t even like going to weddings.

When my 50 Crazy Things list came up it was a bit of a joke that I should wear a wedding dress before my 50th birthday, even though at the time I hadn’t even gone on a date in years. I planned to wear a white running outfit with a white tutu and veil at a Colour Me Rad race but I couldn’t get the dates to work so I let the idea go until Jody Lenarcic, Krista Dick, Monica Williams, Trisha Cooper and I started planning our girls weekend at the Rock N’ Roll 10K in Vancouver in October. We were thinking of costumes and suddenly I got the idea that I could go as a Rock n’ Roll bride and that would satisfy the crazy thing. Well, apparently you can’t have a bride without bridesmaids! When I asked them if they would be willing to participate in my special day they all shouted “Yes!” and started pestering me about colour schemes – I was instantly overwhelmed.

The plan progressed and since I didn’t want them to go to a lot of expense for this, I said they should wear black and then they could put coloured tutus and accessories over top. I had transfers made for their shirts and I wore a white shirt and white tutu with some black accessories. Easy!

They each picked a colour and had hair things (name… kind of like a garland?), arm warmers, and skirts in their chosen colour. I made the transfers for their black t-shirts and at the last minute I had a stroke of brilliance (not even bragging!) – I looked for the font I knew must really exist and I was rewarded with much joy… the Iron Maiden font did exist… we were going to be the Bride and the Brides Maidens! It was brilliant! The front of their shirts said “Brides Maiden” and the backs said “We knew the bride when she used to rock and roll.” The front of my white shirt just said “Bride” and the back said, “Nice day for a white wedding.” I had a black veil, grey lace sewn to my waterbelt, a huge spider engagement ring, black lace arm things (name…I have no vocabulary for fashion), and we were all covered in tattoos… some were real… some, including all of mine, were fake. We also had plastic bouquets – all spray painted black. I have to say, we looked freaking awesome!

Conveniently the run is right before Halloween so we got great costume accessories at the Halloween Spirit Store and Value Village. Being frugal, we also realized that with a bit of tweaking we could use most of our accessories in our Sugar Plum Fairy costumes for the Santa Shuffle in December. Bonus!

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5 women, 2 nights, 1 SUV stuffed to the rafters

The trip was a riot, as always. We had five women in a quint hotel room at the Y Hotel Residence in Vancouver. It was like a pajama party for the over 40 set and all five of us had our own beds. Monica expertly handled all the ironing duties for getting the shirts done and we all spent the night before the race eating rockets (Halloween candy… prerace carb loading), drinking a little bit, and having a blast. Huge shout out here to my neighbours Patty and Stacy who let me print all the shirt transfers on their inkjet printer since my laser printer wouldn’t cut it.

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Hotel room selfie the morning of my big day

The morning of the race our costumes came together. Rock N’ Roll races are known for their costumes but this was pretty new to Vancouver so we didn’t know how many others would get into the spirit of the race – a lot did – including my future groom!

Trisha
Jody
Krista
Monica
me.. going Bridal!

Wait for it….

We made our way through downtown Vancouver to the shuttle that would take us to the starting line. Already we were starting to turn some heads and get some laughs. The starting area in English Bay was a lot of fun. There were lots of costumes! We were getting our picture taken in front of the Inukshuk down by the water when we saw another group of costumed runners and in them was my future groom… Alice Cooper! A guy dressed as Alice was there and we had our picture taken with him. It turns out he belongs to a huge Running Race Costume group that I also belong to on Facebook and we both posted pictures later.

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Hey mom… I met a guy!

We also met Vancouver Sun sports blogger Gord Kurenoff, a former Kamloopsian, who included us in his blog. He’s an awesome guy and very inspirational.

As we ran the race Trisha went ahead as it was her first 10K and we didn’t want to slow her down. Monica and Krista run together so they took off too. Jody and I hung back and enjoyed running alongside women dressed as the Absolutely Fabulous duo and others. I have never had so much attention in a race – but a lot of people actually thought it was a staggette and I was really getting married. People were congratulating me all over the place. I tried explaining and finally Jody said to me, “Give up. Just say thank you!”

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We finished the race and had a blast and that night, over dinner in Chinatown, we were already thinking of what we would do for next year – it will be hard to top Bride and the Brides Maidens!

Why was this crazy?

Oh please! Have you met me? I am seriously not the wedding dress type. So many people were excited that I was going to wear a wedding dress, though, until they saw what it looked like. Then their dreams of Vesta in a poofy wedding dress exploded in a burst of gothic-looking confetti.

Would I do it again?

Hell ya! Would I do it for real? Not bloody likely! Hue thanks to Jody, Krista, Monica, and Trisha for being the best bridesmaids EVER!

50 Crazy Things in my 50th Year #16 – Ride on a motorcycle

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Let’s just make this clear – Born to Be Wild is NOT my theme song!

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Yes, I rode a motorcycle. Yes, Tracy Odber survived!

To say I’m not into motorcycles would be an understatement. Not only do they not appeal to me, they scare me. I hear the horror stories and I know friends of friends who have (fill in the blank with any selection of motorcycle horror stories). So, because I actually fear them, I know I had to add it to my list of 50 Crazy Things. Luckily, I have a large contingent of friends who were more than happy to help me get out of my comfort zone on two wheels. A number of my friends are Harley Davidson enthusiasts, a few like other brands of bikes, but they are all touring enthusiasts and they all get very animated when talking about sitting for his many hours in the hot sun wearing leather and nearly getting hit by other vehicles. My… that sounds like fun! (not!)

So, early on when I was planning my list I had plenty of volunteers. Around the time I decided to do it, some were away on motorcycle trips (go figure), but the two I fully expected to do this with, Tracy and Yvonne Odber, were at home and Tracy was more than willing to let me sit behind him and squeeze the stuffing out of him while he steered. What a guy!

Yvonne and I made plans to get together on September 29th because our lives had gotten way too busy. I didn’t realize I would also be riding the motorcycle that day. When I got to her place I had to turn around and go home to get changed. I wasn’t riding a motorcycle in shorts and flip flops! Jeans and runners it was.

Meet Autumn
Note the holographic paint
Oh yeah, I’m a fender goddess (not)

Tracy and Yvonne ride a bike they have named Autumn. She is a 2015 Harley Davidson Road Glide CVO (whatever that means). Before I got there Tracy polished her up so she was sparkling in the sunshine. I’m pretty sure he would have been polishing her whether I was coming or not. I don’t think that bike ever gets very dirty!

Yvonne lent me her leather jacket and a helmet. Tracy lovingly showed me all of Autumn’s special details – the chrome, the holographic paint job… I’m sure there were other things. From an aesthetic point of view, Autumn is very pretty .. even I admit that.

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Me  – smiling on the outside, screaming on the inside. Tracy – smiling all the time.

After all of that Tracy got on the bike and I got on behind. It was surprisingly comfortable. Autumn is meant for touring, long rides, and the comfort of the person riding in the back. I’ve seen many others (many on my online dating matches) that don’t look nearly as comfortable. Yvonne says there are times she could fall asleep on the back of the bike. I’m pretty sure I would never get to that state of relaxation on a motorcycle but good on her.

My thing against motorcycles is the feeling of being exposed and vulnerable. If anything happens there is no big car frame to offer at least a first level of protection. There’s a leather jacket – not very comforting! Plus, there’s that speed thing (a recurring theme in these crazy things) and the leaning into the corners… just typing that makes my stomach lurch! My 2007 Honda Fit doesn’t lean… ever! Tracy, to his extreme credit, barely leaned into any corner we drove on… bless his heart! I think he may have actually done this for his own safety and the continued structure integrity of his rib cage. Too much leaning and my panic may have limited his ability to breathe!

The ride itself was surprisingly peaceful and nearly pleasant. We went out to the airport and back along Ord Rd. Tracy didn’t lean much, we could actually talk, and there were hardly any cars. I consider this a win. Tracy’s ribs arrived back at the house in relatively the same shape they left in. My thighs, however, were exhausted from squeezing tightly the entire time – good workout!

Why was this crazy?

Oh, the usual – not big on being out of control, being exposed, being vulnerable, etc.

Would I do it again?

I still felt vulnerable, but being alive makes you vulnerable so it’s a risk that can be taken. I wouldn’t say I was dying to jump on a bike again, but if the opportunity arose I wouldn’t necessarily run away screaming. I wouldn’t be jumping up and down in excitement either. I would say it wasn’t as bad as I expected it would be and I’m really glad I did it.

Thanks so much to Tracy and Yvonne for making this happen for me!

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Tracy, Yvonne, and Autumn… motorcycle freaks but I love them anyway!

50 Crazy Things in my 50th Year #15 – Beat the Blerch – Get out of control

/ Vesta Giles / 1 Comment

reeds

This may not seem like a big deal to some, but it is a huge deal to me.

I am always the person who organizes, plans, controls. I don’t always want to be but often that’s the role I fall into and I do it fairly willingly. When something needs to be organized, the people I am with often look to me. I used to resist this, but I often end up with this attitude of, “I’ll do it because nobody else will.” That’s probably not true, but that’s the way it feels.

Lately, having started running with Jody Lenarcic and her wonderful husband, Gerry. I have been given the opportunity to let go of control a bit and it’s been quite liberating. Gerry is also an organizer, and when we run he picks our route and makes sure we don’t get lost on the trails. It felt a bit weird at first, but now it’s a lot easier. We run in the Lac Du Bois Grasslands area just above Bachelor Heights in Kamloops. There is an extensive trail network for runners and mountain bikers and this area is right above where Jody and Gerry live.

It feels a bit alarming but even though I’m pretty famous for memorizing landmarks and trails, I would have a hard time running in that area by myself. In the past year I’ve ceded control to Gerry when it comes to trail choice and making sure I don’t get lost.

We decided to do the Beat the Blerch 10K run in Seattle. The run itself is fantastic – one of the best I’ve ever done. It’s the brainchild of a writer and cartoonist known as The Oatmeal (Matthew Inman). He wrote an essay / book called The terrible and wonderful reasons why I run long distances. In it he describes a creature called the Blerch – that voice in your head that tries to stop you from bothering to reach your goals. The idea is that the Blerch is always chasing you, trying to get you to succumb to laziness and excuses. The goal of any runner on any run is to literally beat the Blerch and not let it catch them. For this race, there are live guys dressed as Blerches chasing you on the course, there is a couch for you to rest on, magical fizzy grape juice and cake at the water station, and lots of people in costume. It was our first time at this event and it was outstanding. We will definitely be doing it again.

This is the essence of the Blerch
this guy was awesome – marshmallows with whipped cream and bacon
Pop Tarts at the starting line

The crazy part of this trip, however, was only partially the race itself. It was the fact that I consciously, and deliberately, let go of control and refused to let myself organize anything. We had an entire weekend just outside Seattle and I organized nothing. I felt a bit panicked and out of control… like I was going to forget something, or be surprised by something, the whole time. Well, I was surprised… by a lot of things.

When I think about signing up for any race I always look at past results to see roughly where I would finish. I deliberately don’t do small events where I would likely finish last and they would be waiting for me to finish… memories of high school. I usually choose bigger events where I will likely finish somewhere in the middle.

For this event, I refused to let myself look at past results. Instead, I looked at all the fun we could have. Jody and I don’t run fast but we do like to have fun.

I also gave up all control – hotel, transportation, restaurants, etc… all of it… to Gerry and everyone else. There were 5 of us and I controlled nothing the entire weekend. I thought I was going to have a heart attack but I did it. Gerry picked the hotel and reserved it, I jumped into the backseat of their truck and took on the role of passenger. Diane and Catherine met us at the hotel. Right now I can’t even remember which hotel it was… this is astonishing for me!

I think it’s generally a good thing that I’m usually the organizer, but I think it’s good to not do it every once in a while too. The biggest thing I had to learn was to just let it happen, enjoy the process, and embrace the surprises that came my way when I wasn’t so busy making things happen.

We left on the Saturday and the run was on the Sunday. We were staying on the edge of Kirkland, WA (home of Costco) and all of my travel companions decided we would go down to Lake Washington to find a restaurant for dinner. Catherine had been there before. I was along for the ride and agreed to go anywhere. It turns out the waterfront area of Kirkland is spectacular and we were treated to a good dinner, and a fantastic walk after where we enjoyed one of the most amazing sunsets I’ve ever seen. I took hundreds of pictures. We walked along the dock area looking at all the boats, enjoyed the amazing array of street performers and public sculptures, and just had a wonderful time together. I probably would have looked for a restaurant close to the hotel and I’m so glad for the surprises we enjoyed that evening.

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This sculpture of kids playing Red Rover was too tempting – Gerry had to play.

 

The next day we went to the start area, which was somewhere in the country (??? no idea where) – I didn’t actually memorize the map of the area like I had before.

It was pouring rain and beautiful. Jody and I didn’t have a spectacular run – we hadn’t trained as much as we would have liked and the humidity nearly did me in. We didn’t finish last – I think we were somewhere in the middle. I don’t really know because to this day I haven’t looked at the results. I know I had a great time, and I know my time probably wasn’t great… if that makes sense!

When Amanda and I went to Florida in February I also gave control to her for the Disney World portion of our trip, and with good reason, she’s a Disney freak and possibly even more of an organizer than I am. She was brilliant! If you are thinking of a trip to Disneyland, check out her new blog Call Me Sweetness. I was in charge of our Universal day, however, so I still had some organizational responsibilities. It turns out they didn’t work out so well and we had to improvise… but no matter.

Why was this crazy?

We all have roles in our lives that we are comfortably, or uncomfortably, slotted into. These are the roles we are expected to fall into when we are with our friends, family, coworkers, etc. I am always the responsible one… it’s who I am. Choosing to not be that person, while not being irresponsible, was definitely out of my comfort zone.

Would I do it again?

Oh yeah! Not only does it make me try on and embrace a different role, it was unbelievably liberating. I felt like I was floating, often without direction, and going where the wind, or the people I was with, decided to take me. It’s a good thing to practice. It was definitely uncomfortable, but I just had to trust the people I was with and learning to do that is a very good thing as well.

50 Crazy Things in my 50th Year – Thing #13 – Hike to the Conair Plane Crash Site

/ Vesta Giles / 1 Comment
Cabin Lake

Cabin Lake

A couple of years ago a group of us in two pickup trucks drove on the worst road I’ve ever been on to get a Gold Country geocache at Cabin Lake. We were trying to finish the first series of Gold Country geocaches and this was one of the hard ones to get. The cache itself is pretty easy to find and Cabin Lake is a beautiful spot. The problem here is THE ROAD FROM HELL!

Leaving from Highway 8 between Merritt and Spences Bridge, one of my favourite roads by the way, the road to Cabin Lake starts off innocently enough – a 25 Km winding gravel road that is well maintained, dotted with lovely little ranches and acreages. The road climbs up into the mountains before reaching a Y turnoff. This is where things get ugly. The last 5 Km to Cabin Lake is by far the worst road I’ve ever been on… no… seriously… THE WORST!

It took us a good hour to travel 5 Km. Several times we had to get out of the trucks to see how we could get through difficult spots – the whole road was difficult. One time we had to all stand on the back bumpers of the trucks so the front bumpers would clear the gullies we were driving through. At times we got out and added rocks so at least three wheels could touch at once. My mother swore she would never travel on that road again (and she has remained true to her word). On that trip we found the geocache and then split up. We (John Buchanan, Yvonne Odber, Sophie Odber, Mom and Me) were going to get another harder Gold Country cache at the Cornwall Hills forestry lookout near Ashcroft. Rejean and Alisa, in the other truck, were going to do a hike to a nearby plane crash site. We all wished we could do both, but we chose Cornwall. Still, the plane crash was in the back of our minds but thanks to that road we pretty much ruled out ever going back.

When it came time to pick things to do for my 50 Crazy Things the plane crash hike was on my list. I sent John a message asking if he and Ava (his truck) would like to go back to Cabin Lake to do the hike. He flat out said no. Then he sent another message saying, “Ava was kicking up her heels/tires, begging to go… I guess we’re going”.

It was crazy to do that road once having heard what it was like. It was absolutely nuts to go in again KNOWING what the road was like.

So, on August 23rd we loaded up in two trucks and nine of us drove up into the mountains looking for adventure and the wreckage from a plane crash. In Ava was Yvonne Odber, Sophie Odber, and John. In the other truck (no name) was Landon Dick, Jaydan Dick, Krista Dick, Jody and Gerry Lenarcic, and me. Smoke from fires in Washington State made the trip hazy and in a way it set the mood for the haunting journey we were about to make.

The Road
Oddly enough, the road was definitely not as bad as it was the first time. Sure, the trucks were totally pinstriped by trees and brushes by the time we got back (that’s how you know you had a good time in the bush), and at times it felt like we were on a roller coaster, but we never had to get out and stand on the bumper so I say that was a win. It didn’t take us an hour this time, maybe 45 minutes, and then we were at the lake where we were surprised to see multiple campsites in use by campers driving vehicles that had also survived the road. I don’t want to leave you with the wrong impression, though. It’s still the worst road I’ve ever been on!

The Hike
A 10 Km hike (round trip) to the plane crash site on Stoyoma Mountain, the trail is not terribly difficult or dangerous.

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Figuring out what trail we’re supposed to be on

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The smoke creating a haze at Cabin Lake

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Cabin for rent at Cabin Lake

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Someone called these Hippy Sticks

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Jaydan – King of Balance

Leaving from the lake we climbed further into the smoke through alpine meadows, catching spectacular views that were enhanced by the smokey sky. The wildflowers that paint the landscape with bright colours in alpine regions were nearing the end of their season but still spectacular. The scenery was magnificent. Eventually we found ourselves above most of the smoke in a rocky valley along the slope of Mt. Stoyoma.

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The smoke in the valley.

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The Crash Site
Our first view of the plane crash site came as we left a grove of thick trees that opened into the exposed valley. What seemed like small pieces of metal were glinting in the sun on the slope of the mountain. I had a hard time seeing it at first, it looked like a natural part of the rocky slope. As we got closer, though, the size of the pieces became evident.

Even with a zoom lens the wreckage looked small from a distance.

Even with a zoom lens the wreckage looked small from a distance.

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Landon, a volunteer firefighter, surveying the landscape.

We stopped in the valley and ate lunch on some large boulders before we picked our way up to the wreckage. Arriving at the wreckage, which is strewn in large and small pieces down the mountainside, the size became much clearer. The plane was large, and the scope of the debris field gave us a chilling idea of how violent the crash had been.

Krista and Jaydan

Krista and Jaydan

This was when I realized how grateful I was that I was with the people I was with. There was no joking, or disrespectful talk when we were at the wreckage. It wasn’t necessarily somber, but it was reflective. A man had died here, and he did it providing a service that people who live in BC’s interior rely on every summer. Living in a world of trees and hot, dry desert summers we are nothing without firefighters.

Conair #24
The wreckage we were visiting came from Conair #24 – a Douglas A/B-26 Invader that had started out in the US Air Force. Later, in 1957, it was registered as a civilian aircraft after it was sold to a private company. In 1971 it was purchased by Conair Aviation of Abbotsford where it would be used to fight forest fires. On August 10, 1971, it crash landed in Prince George, but survived to fly again.

This was Conair 24, the same wreckage we hiked to on Stoyoma Mountain.

This was Conair 24, the same wreckage we hiked to on Stoyoma Mountain.

Conair 22 in action

This is Conair 24’s sister plane, Conair 22, in action.

Three years later, almost to the day, on August 11, 1974, pilot Eric Yuill was flying Conair #24, fighting forest fires in a particularly bad summer for fires in the BC interior. By the time Yuill took off that day it was already one of the most tragic summers in the BC Forest Service firefighting program. On August 2nd, while fighting a fire 13 Km southeast of Ashcroft, a DC 6 Tanker (number 41) crashed killing all three crew members on board. Within 9 days two Douglas A26’s crashed, killing their pilots. The second was Eric Yuill. The wreckage of Yuill’s plane is still in its resting place on Stoyoma Mountain. According to one person who recalled the incident, Yuill’s plane wasn’t found for three weeks after the crash. I have no idea if this is true or not. But either way, it’s very sad.

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Living in Kamloops we see the tankers and helicopters flying in and out of the airport all summer. The distinctive motors are sounds we connect with heat, wind, and the smell of smoke that hangs in the valley. In a way it begins to look routine. Planes fly out with retardant or water, planes fly back empty. No big deal… till one doesn’t return.

I couldn’t find any more information about Eric Yuill. If I do find some, and I’ll be looking, I’ll post an update here.

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Why was this crazy?
Well, the road, for one thing, and the journey for another. Seriously, who would go on that road twice? That’s just wrong! But the journey… that’s another thing. How often do we say, “Oh, we should do that someday” and never do? Even when that thing is in our own back yard? That’s what makes it crazy. We can talk all we want about the cool things we want to do, but how many times do we actually do them?

Would I do it again?
Oddly enough, I would. If / when I buy a 4X4 vehicle then the ability to make it on the road to Cabin Lake will be my new minimum standard when I make my choice.

Huge thanks to John Buchanan (and Ava), Yvonne Odber, Sophie Odber, Landan Dick, Krista Dick, Jaydan Dick, Jody Lenarcic and Gerry Lenarcic for joining me on this adventure!

For more information:
Pictures and a brief history of Conair #24
http://napoleon130.tripod.com/id302.html

The Canadian Fallen Firefighters Foundation (Eric Yuill’s page)
http://www.cfff.ca/EN/fallen/detail/?id=677

History of Aviation in the BC Forest Service: A pictorial account for the BCFS Centennial November 2011 – Part 2 : Air Tanker Operations
http://www.bcfs100.ca/docs/pdf/1/481.pdf

50 Crazy Things in my 50th Year – Thing #12 – A spontaneous thing! Let my cousin drag me around a lake while she tries to kill me.

/ Vesta Giles / Leave a comment

When we were kids my brother and I spent all of our Christmases and summers at our family farm near Perdue, Saskatchewan. That side of my family is small and extremely close. My cousins are more like brothers and sisters to us.
 

Loral, my maniac cousin.

Loral, my maniac cousin.

One of the things I remember doing in my early teens was skidooing. The six of us (cousin 7 was pretty little at the time) would go out to the field next to my aunt and uncle’s house at night with a skidoo and an inner tube from a tractor. On a cloudy night we would only see the lights from the house. Everything else was pitch black. The field had a stand of trees at the far end and a slough with tall reeds and grasses in the middle. It was always incredibly cold (it was Saskatchewan!).
 
Once we got out there, inevitably, a ‘game’ of crack the whip would ensue. The idea behind this activity was simple. One person drove the skidoo. Another rode behind him / her, and four others would ride the tube. It was a big tube. Unlike the tubes people use on lakes now, these tubes didn’t have handles or anything to hold on to. You had to squeeze your legs and arms around it and hope for the best. Nobody ever lasted long, but we kept trying thinking, “This time I know I can hold on!”
For those of you who don’t know what Crack the Whip is, here is the Wikipedia definition:
 

Crack the Whip is a simple outdoor children’s game that involves physical coordination, and is usually played in small groups, either on grass or ice. One player, chosen as the “head” of the whip, runs (or skates) around in random directions, with subsequent players holding on to the hand of the previous player. The entire “tail” of the whip moves in those directions, but with much more force toward the end of the tail. The longer the tail, the more the forces act on the last player, and the tighter they have to hold on.

 
Sounds simple, right?
 
When we played Crack the Whip the driver of the skidoo would drive around in large circles, building up momentum, as the tube and its passengers swung around faster and faster. In the early days of the game, when we were just figuring out how horrible it could really be. It was enough that the driver would go over bumps, or go fast. If people fell off, the driver would need to stop and turn off the engine to hear the screams because seeing the stranded pre-teens and teens was impossible. Once you heard the screams you could head off in a direction toward them. For those who fell off and were waiting to be rescued, the sound of coyotes and other creatures of the dark off in the distance was unsettling, to put it politely.

Crack the Whip... how I missed you... not!

Crack the Whip… how I missed you… not!

In the advanced form of the game, the driver of the skidoo would drive around and around and then direct the circles in such a way that the tube flew up over a jump made from reeds from the slough that were laying down because we had driven over them with the tube so many times. They formed a sort of ramp. Ah the memories! Now, when we flew off the tube, because it was absolutely impossible to hold on, we were flying through the air, in pitch blackness, waiting for the inevitable hard landing in a snowbank. I actually clearly remember a moment where I was flying through the air and I was unsure of what part of my body was closest to the ground, and what position I would land in.
 
Isn’t it amazing we all survived to adulthood and the only injury I remember was my cousin Lisa getting frostbite around her ankle because she had grown since the previous winter and she, of the long legged variety, had exposed skin from where the legs of her skidoo suit were too short.
 
Now, fast forward approximately 34.5 years. My last night at the lake this summer in July was supposed to be uneventful until my cousin, Loral, walked by me and said, “Come on, you’re going to be spontaneous and it will be crazy. You and Ben are going tubing.” Ben is her son, who is about 8, and fearless.
 
It’s important to note here that Loral was frequently the driver of the skidoo. Are you seeing the picture here?
 
So, an unplanned crazy thing happened and apparently, I survived.
 
Ben and I got our lifejackets on and got onto the tube. This tube had good sturdy handles and the grip I had on them reminded me of being on the Tower of Terror at Disneyworld with Amanda. I had a death grip on those handles.
 
Loral towed us out into the middle of Jackfish Lake, and proceeded to try and kill me…. Ah, Crack the Whip, how I missed you! My other cousin Krista took pictures. None are great because Loral was driving like a maniac, but they prove I was there.
 
It felt like it lasted for days but it might have been an hour in total. I was screaming the entire time, which Ben thought was hilarious. I seriously thought if I let go of that handle I was going to be flung half way to Alberta. I was screaming to slow down, my butt wasn’t even touching the tube, and Ben, holding on with one hand, is telling her to speed up. I love my family… freaks! The only way it would have been scarier is if it was at night…. on ice!
 
The next day I had to drive home and my arms were screaming at me the whole 14 hours… something about, “What the hell were you thinking?”
 
Why was this crazy?
I’m not a very spontaneous person. I like to plan things and know what to expect. All I had to go on was that Loral was driving and that memory from my teens of flying through the air and not knowing if I was going to land on my head or my butt.
 
Would I do it again?
Probably, I think Ben is counting on it. He took too much pleasure in my screams. He is definitely his mother’s son.

Ben... he is his mother's son.

Ben… he is his mother’s son.