I had to run out and get one more gift. This one inspired by Chris (in other words, he forced me) because Chris and crappy just go together like bowel and movement.
I've noticed Chris doesn't really dress up for Halloween, my favorite holiday. I figured if he owned this Poo Poo platter costume, he would be The Shit at Halloween next year.
Tonight SV and I were out on the town. Having sufficiently cooked-in almost every night since returning from Mexico, I was ready to eat somebody else's stuff. We ended up at one of our favorite Boulder spots - the home of the cucumber-infused vodka that my sister so thoroughly enjoyed - Jax's Fish House.
We were talking to our favorite bartender Jesse about the show Top Chef, since there are two Boulder contenders sthis cycle, including one from our very own Jax. Since Jesse is always gratuituous and prompt serving us oyster shooters and beer, we were hoping some spoilers on the show's outcome might also be forthcoming, but alas, he doesn't know any more than we do. He said even Hosea doesn't know how the show unravels itself. Although he does (obviously) know the outcome, Hosea can't speak a word of it to anyone, or I'm sure he won't get paid, or some dang shit like that.
Before we knew it, Hosea himself was at the bar talking to us. I think Jesse called him up from the kitchen to talk to us. We love Jesse - who knew Hosea was even working tonight?! He started talking about the show and he mentioned his DVR was set for tonight, as he has to work the late shift, and is just as excited as we are to know about this week's epsidode. Many things went through my mind, like:
Dude... canned crab meat? Like, what were you thinking? or Dude... so hooking up with that chick? Like, what were you thinking?
But instead, I just shook my head "yes" a lot to whatever Hosea said, and fumbled for my camera phone. By the time I found it, he'd already made his way back to the kitchen, but I followed him there, and he politely agreed to having his photo taken. After I took the photo, I said, "I'd wish you Good Luck Chef, but since it's already been determined..."
And he said, "That's okay, it's always good to hear."
So I said, "Well then. Good luck Chef!"
And he said, "Thank you."
I am tempted to go read Dead Spot's summary - the most delightful, funny, and raw summary of TC on the web. But I will wait to watch it first.
So evidently, you need one of these in order for them to let you into Mexico these days. Who knew?! Well, actually I knew this law had changed, but it didn't dawn on me to actually make sure my passport hadn't done something so silly like expire while I wasn't looking. Especially since I had just been to Rocky Point in October. No one seemed to mind then that it was out of date.
So we get to the airport on the Saturday before Thanksgiving and are experiencing difficulties doing the automatic check-in. The check-in lines are extremely crowded, even on our priority side. There we are with our two big duffels full of climbing gear each that we just want the checkers to take off our hands, but the kiosk is telling us to ask for an attendant. As we try again, inputting our info from our passports, I read the expiration date for SV to input and the realization made my stomach drop to my knees. The entire vacation, including standing on top of the mountain flashed before my eyes. I've never quite fucked up like this before.
But I blame SV. I don't know how many times I asked SV if he had his passport before we left for the airport, and not once did he ask me if mine was valid.
The nice United ladies (no, they were actually nice) were telling us that they couldn't let us on the plane, but that they could move our departure date back if we wanted. It was a decision we had to make in about four minutes. Just as I pulled up the passport agency info on my iPhone, and saw that there was an office in Aurora, Colorado, I said, with tears in my eyes, "Tuesday then." I read the web page quickly and they said they could do a passport in a day if they had an airline ticket or something that shows you need one quick. The award-winning, teary-eyed performance on my part got us the change in tickets for free, and three days later, after spending all day Monday at the passport agency, we were happily off on our trip.
What does this all have to do with hockey?
We walked away from the United counter at about 8:20am. We were supposed to be on a flight that left in a few minutes, but we weren't. SV went to get the car and I stood on the curb. At 8:22 a.m., I was gleefully texting my Captains to tell them I could play in the game that night afterall. And we won. I think I even scored a goal.
For more stories that are actually about the game of hockey, check out the boys over at The 2 Man Advantage. I'm sure they have some.
"Boot pack!" I shouted with glee back to my boyfriend and climbing partner, SV. On the steep, ice-white, monotonous glacier, the shelved-in stairway was a relief to our eyes, and hopefully, to our aching muscles.
We'd been climbing since 2:15 am and stood somewhere around 17,000' - a 3,000' gain in about four hours, but our pace had slowed shortly after reaching the tongue of the glacier. Despite the spectacular sunrise, and an absolutely gorgeous day, things were not perfect. SV had a chest cold as evident by his hacking, phlegmy cough, and I was a little worried. He was unable to find a rhythm in attacking the steeper part of the volcano. I led in different styles; pigeon-toed, switch-backing, side-stepping, and rest-stepping, but nothing seemed to work for my partner and we were falling behind.
Just before sunrise at about 16,000'.
Luckily, there was no storm in our midst like last time, and I was challenged to find a single cloud in the entire hemisphere, which I'm sure I could now see entirely from my elevated view. I realized, we had all day (and night) to do this if we kept moving and stayed warm. The temps weren't too bad (around freezing), but it would certainly be a lot colder once the sun set. For now, there was no immediate rush. But still, I looked for the boot pack that climbers before us related at base camp all the same. It was off to the far right somewhere... on my last zigging, I went way to the right before zagging, and found it.
SV navigating the steep glacier.
This was the turning point. SV got on the stairway to the sky and he rode it like an escalator, passing by me. He said, "Hey, I think I can do this now!"
"Cool," I said, acting calm.
I later came clean to my boyfriend that I had already contemplated how much of an asshole I would be if I were to leave him for the summit if he threw in the towel. I knew it would depend on the exact circumstances of the moment, if it came. But in the end, I did the climbing math and decided I had learned my lesson. I would not leave him. Good thing we didn't have to think about that now, we were on our way to the summit!
Shortly before reaching the crater rim, three climbers came down the boot pack, returning from the summit. There was a strong Belgian climber that was in his 60's, at least. We had watched him climb from the start, and were truly amazed by his grace and agility in the rocky scree down below. He scattered up the hill like a gazelle in the rift valley of Africa. The other two climbers were Americans like us - a hot guide and his client from California. The hot guide stopped to ask us how we were feeling, while short-roping his client for the trek down. His client did not look happy to be stopping for the few seconds that they did, and he looked like he might paint the snow in vomit at any second.
We had chatted with all three of these guys at base camp. The hot guide made a remark or two about me and SV's aggressive acclimatization plan. I take it, he didn't think that arriving in Mexico two days before and forging up to 18,500' feet was all that smart. In fact, I overheard him tell his client, "It's a good way to get yourself sick." This from the guy who had to tell his client how to put on crampons on the steep, icy section known as the labyrinth.
True, our acclimatization schedule (or lack thereof) was aggressive. But on the other hand, we live at 6,000' in Boulder, and we visit eight or nine thousand feet often. I mean, we ski a lot, and I playhockey at ~9,000' in Breckenridge/Vail/Steamboat a few times a year. And while it doesn't mean that it won't happen to me, I've never had a problem with altitude beyond getting a nagging headache that is subdued with ibuprofen or diamox. While also true, that SV had never been higher that 14,400' before this trip, he hiked to 13,000' two days before we left and has hiked over 40 14ers, and we trained on St. Mary's Glacier before we left. At least I know myclient, and he is strong like ox!
Besides, we told ourselves that if we felt sick, we'd turn it into an acclimatization climb, come back down, and try again the next day. So this hot guide asswipe had some nerve to talk about us in that way, when he doesn't know his client at all. I wasn't the one having to short-rope anyone down, you jerk!
Looking up the glacier with the Belgian, and the guide/client (on the boot pack on the right).
But I just told the dude that we felt fine and moved along.
Soon, a Dutch climber below us named Jan (seen in the video below) caught up to us during our last snack break, and we all three lipped over the crater together. This made me happy, not just because we were almost to the top, but I knew we'd all save time and energy on those self-timer summit photos. The crater view was amazing and well worth the energy it took to get there.
Crater rim of the volcano, high point is another ~300' up to the right.
On top, I looked over at SV and realized I felt proud of him. This climb is his Personal Altitude Record and he trained harder for it than I did. On that day, the Friday after Thanksgiving, I was very thankful SV indulged me and accompanied me on this trip to finish the business I started eight years ago.
It feels like I found that long long sock to my favorite pair, suddenly, behind the dryer.
For those of you that want to know what it's like to go on a hike like this, watch this video for nine hours in a row (up), take a thirty minute break (summit), and then watch it again for about four hours (down).
You'll have to excuse the mitten, I wasn't about to risk frostbite for you bloggers.
I had to run out and get one more gift. This one inspired by Chris (in other words, he forced me) because Chris and crappy just go together like bowel and movement.
Before we knew it, Hosea himself was at the bar talking to us. I think Jesse called him up from the kitchen to talk to us. We love Jesse - who knew Hosea was even working tonight?! He started talking about the show and he mentioned his DVR was set for tonight, as he has to work the late shift, and is just as excited as we are to know about this week's epsidode. Many things went through my mind, like:
So evidently, you need one of these in order for them to let you into Mexico these days. Who knew?! Well, actually I knew this law had changed, but it didn't dawn on me to actually make sure my passport hadn't done something so silly like expire while I wasn't looking. Especially since I had just been to Rocky Point in October. No one seemed to mind then that it was out of date.
Just before sunrise at about 16,000'.
SV navigating the steep glacier.
Looking up the glacier with the Belgian, and the guide/client (on the boot pack on the right).
Crater rim of the volcano, high point is another ~300' up to the right.
SV and I on the crater rim of Pico de Orizaba, highest point in Mexico and third highest peak in North America at about 18,500'.
