Those Propellers

Out walking again today, a bit cold and a bit windy, which made me want to increase my speed somewhat.  Some of you may recall my propeller epiphany, in which I discovered that my beautiful toes are actually propellers that enhance the walking experience quite a lot.  Well, today I discovered a way to greatly improve the efficiency of the toes in their role as propellers.  It turns out that the longer the stride, the more the toe is involved in pushing me forward, and therefore the less the rest of me has to work to get a good clip going.  I walked much faster and with far less effort!  And stayed warmer.

Now, I am going to try to find some toe exercises to make my lovelies even more efficient in this walking thing.  I really must have the toes in primo propeller condition when I hit the beach this summer.  Just think of what my speed will be when my toes can dig into sand!  And, indeed, these toes were made for sand.  To work!


Homeward Bound

So all road trips need to end, else how could we say “on the road again”?  I was quite lucky in my choice of days to head back home.  The roads were clear of ice and snow the entire way, even over the pass.  I stopped there for a cuppa as usual and sipped it the rest of the trip.  The sun shone all the way and as I drove, it passed me by.

After the mountains, into a valley then up to Ryegrass (really, hardly a mountain at all, just a high hill) and at the top, I could see the plains spread out ahead of me.  Down to the Columbia then up again and stayed high the rest of the way.  The landscape was tan, with brown-green foliage of one kind and another, a long cry from the green forests of the other side of the mountains.  After the Columbia, there were a lake or two and some iced over ponds, but the sea was behind me and the salt air was gone.

When I first moved to the plains, I thought I would never like them.  I missed the sea too much.  But after a few years, the scent of the grass was home and I have stayed far longer than I ever thought I would.  It is only when I go west to the salt that I feel how much I miss it.

As I continued east, the plains took on the white of snow, glinting in the fading sun.  There had been a bit of a storm the day before, and that white against the tan and dark green was quite spectacular.  When I arrived at my driveway,  about four inches of snow faced me.  Clenching my teeth, I drove over it, knowing that would create ice that I would not be able to shovel through.  Oh well.  Home, I was home to the cat.

She purred a bit and then otherwise ignored me until the next day.  Ahhh.

Stuck in the Middle

So, the road trip continued.  I had made it to the salt water, the scent of which was like ambrosia.  I am lucky to have family living on an island in the San Juans who do not mind my coming to visit, so I continued my drive, going north toward Canada.  It was a lovely sunny day when I set out.  As I drove, I could see Rainier to the south of me, Baker to the north of me, the Olympics to the left and the Cascades to the right.  And there I was, snug in the cradle of all of those mountains.  Remember all of those peaceful feelings?  They were all there, growing stronger the closer I got to the Straits of Juan de Fuca and the ferry that would take me to my family whom I had not seen for over three years.  I could feel the comfort from my sister, now south of me, and that of the family I was going to see.  Riding on the ferry to the island I stood in the cold wind and breathed in the salt air.  More ambrosia.

What a lovely place to be stuck in the middle of!  Everything I could want, all around me.

(Except for the cat.)

Outrunning the Sun

Road trip!  It has been one and a half years since my last road trip.  Way too long.  This week I drove west from plains to mountains with the sun to the south.  All the way across the plains I drove ahead of the sun, trying to leave it behind so the day would be longer. But the plains were left behind when I crossed the Columbia and reached the top of Ryegrass.   But oh!, when I topped Ryegrass, there was Mount Rainier, so stately, so beautiful.  Rainier said “Hello, so good to see you again!” like the gentleman he is. The sun on that mountain was spectacular, leaving me almost breathless.  I drove on westward, seeing the Cascade chain in all of its glory, white covered crags flowing north from Rainier to Stewart, then Baker.  Then, up and over the pass into the onshore flow that hid the sun for a time.  But oh boy!- finally, the Olympics!  I saw them jump up and down and yell “hiya, about time you came back.  Got your ocean here on our other side!”.  I say, so sorry, not this time, but please keep it safe for me.  I will always be back.

How good it is to drive!