Monthly Archives: August 2011

Stockmarket feelings

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When the call came, I wasn’t prepared. I can barely remember what all Doc said except that my cancer markers went up. Not just one or two points.  Although not an exact science, we have relied on this for ten years. Now, I’m not so sure that I can outrun this ‘thing’. Time is not as abundant as a few months ago. My confidence is slipping and fear is raising its ugly head. My emotions have this Yo-Yo effect. Or, up-down like the stockmarket. (It did recover?)  My best friend held me while we cried. I didn’t quite realize how much I had hoped for lower numbers until they were not.

My son said not to worry. We’ll find the best treatment and  money. Friends rally and surround me with theit love and support. Even unknown facebook friends are right there with advice and encouragement.

Although I would be a good canditate for Cyberknife ( I still like the idea of no cutting, no pain best!) It seems that Medicare won’t pay for this treatment. They view this as experimental?? Really? Only ‘traditional radiation’ pay. If I had a Grandma, I’d have to sell her to cover these inflated costs. Should I research other ‘alternative options?’ Which one to pick? Which one is only smoke and mirrors? How can I make a reasonable decision when there’s molasses in my brain?

I have written an e-mail to German University. Not that I believe they’re better but so far, they’ve been cheaper. University of Heidelberg has a state of the art oncology-cyberknife center.

We still hang on to the thread of hope to ‘lose’ this 50 cent size tumor on the camino. I have enough time to do that.

Am I ungrateful in this ‘whining’? At least there are options. Many people don’t even get that much. Well, one thing for sure. I will have plenty of  quality time to think about any and all of this when I walk the camino. There are still miracles out there. I’ve had two, ten years ago, within six month of each other. But, that’s another story.

For those of you who would like to know what this Cyberknife is all about.

rocky mountain cyberknife center

Rest from the party.

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Computer kept crashing this morning and that is why there’s a part II. This is the castle in Erlangen, Germany. (The lovely, young lady is my granddaughter.) This is also where my best friend and I played ,on the castle grounds and marvelous gardens, pretending we owned it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It ain’t over until the fat lady sings!!!

 

 

 

 

 

Time flies…

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…when you’re having fun and I’ve had more than my fair share of it, lately. The pictures are from our ‘Bavarian grill party.’ With food, song and ‘wine’ and a perfect Sunday afternoon with good friends. I did try to yodel after one drink but that was a sad imitation of the real thing.

I have been remiss in my hiking and feel vaguely guilty. The same kind of guilt that I felt, when I ate half a bratwurst. But, I also served a lot of vegetable kebabs.

We’re driving up to the Black Canyon this morning for a hike and  sight seeing with my best friend.

Lifetime friends for sixty-three years. We’d met in Kindergartenin Erlangen, Germany. Lived on the same street. It’s a rare treasure to find someone of that quality, faithfulness and unconditional love.

 

Brats, not Tapas

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The last few days have been a whirlwind of activities. First, driving to Grand Junction and visit the ‘girls’. Then, taking Carrie and mom to R.E.I and other outfitting places to get Carrie started. I was excited for her and she was in (happy?) shock. (Carrie, my niece. If not by blood but by mutual consent and love.)

Then  we drove to the airport to pick up my dearest friend, Irene,  now known since childhood days. We met at Kindergarten and lived in the same street, which makes this special bond lasting over sixty plus years! She knows all my history and we can communicate with just one word and go back to ‘Adam and Eve’.

This is her ‘quiet time’ visit. Coming from Las Vegas, there’s not much to compete with in the way of entertainment. But, of course, we have our canyon and mountains and cute, little towns.

Not much time for walking but will pick it back up on Monday. I am so grateful that Julio will accompany us the first few days on the camino. (I am also very grateful that my son has taken out that much time, to travel with me.)

I was going to have a Spanish theme party, with Tapas and Sangria and a little flamenco music. Sort of ‘going away’ party a little early. But then, some friends called and wanted to do a Bavarian ‘Zither’ get together and they chose my place to do it. (Food may have been a deciding factor.) So. My theme would not go with this music. Hence, we’ll have Brats, potato salad, Bowle (spiked strawberry punch) wicked stuff, really. Several salads and apple-plum sheet cakes. Pictures will be posted tomorrow.

(All the while, listening with one ear for the phone to ring and Doctor telling me the numbers of cancer marker. It’s been five days.) Really would like to know.

 

The Return of Senor Julio Redondo

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Julio (pictured here next to the Camino sign) just returned from a 165-kilometer jaunt on20090624_00240 the Camino, “an average of 20 kms a day, lovely walk,” and says to me, “Seventeen of september i´ll be waiting for you at the airport, following day we could get bus to Pamplona, and from there to Roncesvalles … and from there  ¡ Be ready for the camino … almost 900 kms!”

But, he says, “Gossip is not my business,” so he’s not sure he wants anything to do with all this blog and Facebook stuff.  Still, he says, “i´ll change my mind for a couple of days and we´ll see what happen.”

And then some parting words of advice from the master trekker:

I´ll remind you , secret of the camino is the weight, only the indispensable, boots already used, and good humour.

Julio’s second email neatly tied up the rest of any of the details that added complexity to our trip:  how to get from the airport at Bilbao to the start of the Camino on the French side of the Pyrenees, at Saint Jean Pied de Port (which literally means Saint John at the foot of the mountain).

I just checked Internet and confirm there is several trains from Hendaya to Bayonne, where we can get the small train to Saint Jean Pied de Port.  From Bilbao there are several buses going Hendaya, just the border, at about 200 yards to train station.

So that’s that.  Now, how to train when I don’t like walking, much less for six hours a day?

In general, I’m going to rely on a reasonable amount of fitness to get in more Camino shape as I go.  In other words, the first day on the Camino is great prep for the second and third.  But I have to be able to recover from that first day, which, going over the Pyrenees, is widely regarded as the most difficult of the entire trip . . .

Adam, is there anything on that sign Julio is standing next to that’s of interest?

Welcome to the Camino, Carrie!

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Carrie LaneWhat an extraordinary girl that is now joining us on the Camino – Carrie Lane, 15, who is related to me in two or three ways, though all of them are apparently legal.  Mom has come to know her and her mother, Laurel, and her sisters quite well over the last year; they’ve been very supportive of Mom, and have visited her in Montrose several times.  And the girls, especially Carrie, have really taken to Mom.  Which is nice.

But I’ve never met her, and until recently wasn’t sure how she fit into the whole Colorado cosmology.  Let’s see if I can work it out:

Carrie’s mother is Laurel, the daughter of one of my many Colorado cousins, Christie Powell, and Terry Lancaster (and because Aunt Jayne Powell long ago married a Lancaster, the Lancasters and Powells are sort of one family).  Laurel has four girls, Rachel (18), Carrie, Grace (12), and Hayden (3).  Meanwhile, Carrie’s father was in school, in Rangely, Colorado, a year or so behind me . . .  So it’s all sort of overlapping.

I am still amazed that she got permission to go.  What kind of enlightened school administration would let a child leave the comforts of rote learning and conformism to launch herself into the real world and see that it is, in fact, bigger than previously imagined?  Carrie will learn a great deal, and I suspect she’ll learn a lot about how mature and capable a 15-year-old can be – which will give her valuable confidence as she heads into the challenges of the high school years.

As a coach, I can also say she’s also shown an initiative and passion she’ll well remember in later years:  she saw a goal, that of joining my mother for five weeks on the Camino in the middle of her sophomore year of high school, and then she worked her way through all obstacles in her path – starting with first one parent and then the other until they were swayed to her vision.  And then came convincing the school district of Central High in Grand Junction, Colorado, whose hand, so to speak, I still want to shake.

They won’t be sorry!  She’ll pick up more than just added confidence.  She’ll learn how to read a map; how to convert European measurements; all sorts of history, especially that of Spain, Europe, and Catholicism, all of which I know a bit about; the Spanish language (and thus some Latin); geography; currency conversion; and much more, but she’ll especially learn a great deal from the variety of seekers who come to the Camino from all over the world.  Last but not least, imagine the education, if that’s the right word, that she’ll get from watching a sixty-seven-year-old cancer survivor walk 500 miles on feet that until recently had been too scarred from prior rounds of chemo to enable much walking.

What a major accomplishment, already, for a young woman of such tender years!  She’ll remember it forever.

Which is nice.

Welcome, Carrie!

Various home made dressings

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For awhile now I’ve been making my own dressings as that ‘gummy’ concoction from a bottle is nearly nauseating. Especially the ‘fat -free’  stuff. Here are a few, basic great tasting alternatives. Remember, only coat the salad. Don’t drown it in dressing.

Classic French Dijon:                                                  Cilantro Lime

1/3 cup white wine vinegar                                      1/4 cup fresh lime juice

1/2 tsp each, kosher salt                                          2 Tbsp cider vinegar

and black pepper                                                       1/4 tsp cayenne pepper

1 Tbsp Dijon mustard                                               1/2 tsp ground cumin

1 Tbsp sugar                                                              1/4 tsp kosher salt

2 tsp chopped Thyme, Estragon                              1 Tbsp honey

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil                                     2 Tbsp cilantro

2/3 cup (or less) canola oil

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Raspberry Balsamic:

1/3 cup balsamic vinegar

2 Tbsp water

4 tsp raspberry preserves

1/4 tsp kosher salt/ 1/2tsp gr black pepper

1 Tbsp finely chopped shallot

2/3 cup extra virg olive oil

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Ve hef ze technolochy, or, Why I feel sorry for Camino walkers from countries without an REI store

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It’s a beautiful summer day in Seattle, a city that’s particularly beautiful on beautiful summer days.  I’m sitting on the sidewalk of Espresso Vivace, a coffee shop across the street from the flagship REI store north of downtown.  For those of you who don’t know, REI began in Seattle, and it’s based here, and the main store is situated on a block that’s like a forest, complete with waterfalls and trails, in the middle of the city.

With the help of a phalanx of knowledgeable REI staffers, including a good fellow named Ron who lavished at least an hour on my wanderings in the store, I spent over three hours and six hundred clams on a good portion of all that I’ll carry in Spain. It makes me wonder what people do who hail from countries without REIs.

It’s expensive, traveling light!

Everything but the pack is super-light, and you pay extra for the technology that makes things light. Here’s a list, from memory, of what I bought to take along, and why:

The centerpiece, a 48-liter backpack, weighing in, according to the Camino scuttlebutt I have read, at a relatively hefty 3 pounds 10 ounces.  Some Caminoderos boast of packs under a pound, which sounds suspiciously like wearing a g-string.  But I’m carrying a heavy laptop (4-6 pounds) too, and I decided that, perversely, a heavy pack with appropriately padded shoulder and waist straps was the best thing to support all the increased weight.  If the recommended limit to carry on one’s back is about 20 pounds, you can see I’m starting heavy.

A camera pack.  I don’t know what most walkers do for cameras, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to spend the rest of my life looking at pictures taken on a cell phone camera, or any other camera that fits in a shirt pocket or can be skipped across a pond.  Those cameras are to photography what iTunes files are to real music files:  a pale imitation of the real thing.  Fitting the camera pack on the front of the backpack took some carabiners and some doing, but with Ron’s help I think I found a solution.  Only testing the contraption around Bend, and maybe New Jersey, will tell.

Convertible, wicking walking pants and two fitted, short-sleeved smartwool shirts.  I love smartwool.  I’ve skied for two winters in it, and it not only wicks away moisture but, unlike synthetic fabrics, you simply can’t stink it up, no matter how hard you try.

Five-toed wool socks to go with my Vibram FiveFingers footwear.  That’s right:FiveFingers1  I’m not wearing boots, as all the Camino chatrooms insist you must do.  I’m wearing the equivalent of padded rubber gloves on my feet.  If God had meant us to walk long distances with our feet all enclosed he’d not have given us balancing toes and high arches.  More and more evidence is showing that our ancestors ran after game for unimaginable distances (like 100 miles – the whole tribe, old men, young, and women with infants), and that our bodies are perfectly formed – that is, sans shoes – for running barefoot.  See Christopher McDougall’s Born to Run for a fascinating read; it’s one of the most provocative and fun-to-discuss books I’ve read in years.

A heating element and metal cup for tea, coffee, and hot toddies.  It wouldn’t have occurred to me to get this, but Mom mentioned it.  She probably needs her morning coffee and doesn’t want to rely on the hostels.

A compression sack for my mummy-style sleeping bag (probably over 10 years old, my REI aide told me it’s still pretty light; it’s warm to 20 degrees F).  Camino vets recommend a large backpack, like 60 liters, but I decided to strap the 16-liter compressed sleeping bag to the outside of the pack and save on the internal space.

Synergy,Tandem and invisible companions.

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Alone today at the canyon at 6:30 A.M with back pack, water and a sandwich. Beautiful, cool and peaceful.  Thoughts coming through and I wonder at their source. First, I was thinking of my daughter, who lost her job, with 10 other co-workers, by their company’s downsizing. My granddaughter who has no job either. Then I had to let that go. After awhile, I became aware of the click-clack sound my poles were making. Everything moving in tandem. Step-clack-step-click, inhaling well, heart pumping, lung expelling without any pain from previous surgery. Feet moving in comfy boots. ( I LOVE those hiking socks!!)

I thought of ‘Quasimodo’ the handicapped bell ringer of Notre Dame and the beautiful Esmeralda. They became my invisible companions. He had a weight on his back, which he couldn’t take off.  ‘ Mochila’ means back pack in Spanish but I will name my lumpy weight pack ‘Quasimodo’. Almost like a Siamese twin for the whole way. I could feel my hip bones under this added weight. A few years ago, I had a bone density test and was told that I had the ‘hips of a twenty year old’. So. Thank you ancestors and parents for my functional hips.

I was shaken out of my reverie by the piercing cry of a falcon? I started singing old Folk songs. I was feeling my kidneys a bit too. But to think that  a mere 2 years ago I had kidney stones and a whole assortement of other problems, I revel in feeling so well.

Then I thought of my parents. Hard working, honest laborers. Giving me the gift of tenacity, perserverance and courage and a good dose of ‘optimism from Mom, who sang even when she was despairing, although some of those ballads sure had us bawling.). Gifts more worth than money. I hope I passed them on to my son and daughter.

And thus, I walked 5.5 miles or nearly 9 Kilometers, in two hours at 9000 feet altitude. Not too bad for an old broad. When I got home and took ‘Quasimodo’ off, the sudden liberation unbalanced me for a few steps  and I zig-zagged like a drunken bee. (Bumble bee before I’d lost the weight.)

Not the same ol’ breakfast

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When my friend Bonnie came last week to help out with domestic chaos, I rewarded her and myself with this wonderful breakfast.

Pumpkin Pancakes:

1 and 3/4 cups whole wheat ( or whole grain) pastry flour

2 Tbsp light packed raw sugar

2 tsp baking soda

1 Tbsp pumpkin pie spice

1/4 tsp salt ( a. k. a ‘pinch’)

1 cup canned pumpkin puree

1 and 1/2 fat free ( or skim) milk

1 large egg (or 1/2 cup liquid egg substitute)

2 Tbsp unsweetened apple sauce

2 Tbsp cider vinegar

In large bowl mix dry ingredients. In a small bowl whisk together pumkin puree, milk, egg, apple sauce and cider vinegar. Stir this mix into dry ingredients until ‘just’ blended. Let batter rest for 5 min. Preheat skillet or griddle to med high heat and mist with cooking spray. For each pancake, pour 1/4 cup batter onto skillet. When edges are dry, flip. ( 1-2 min per side). Only 133 cals and 1 g fat.

Serve with pear sauce. Heat medium skillet over med heat, coated with cooking spray. Add 2 pears (cored and sliced) and 1 Tbsp crystallized ginger. Cook and stir for approx. 5 min. add 1/4 to 1/2 cup of lite syrup. Cook for one more minute and keep warm.