Author Archives: Kate

It’s been a long time since I put up a photo for a background image. My computer at work still has snow-covered pine trees! So, here’s a couple spring or summer-time offerings for your desktop pleasure.

As usual, I’ve saved the image as a few different sizes for the most common screen resolutions. Feel free to down load the one that works for you by clicking on the link to the correct size below each shot! These files can be a bit large, so be a little patient as your computer downloads them.

Blue Flax in the Morning

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Longtail and Thailand Sunset

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Yes, I know, mid-June is hardly “spring” any more, especially in places outside of Colorado. Around here, we just turned off our furnaces a couple weekends ago, and the world is green and lush! I’m sure summer will be hitting us soon, any day now.

This spring, gardening got a bit of a sideline due to morning sickness, but it was the first activity I turned to when I could get off the couch. Mark has really chipped in more than his share as well, and we’ve managed to pull together a good looking set-up this year.

Subtle Changes

Another reason I managed to pull together a garden between bouts of yaking is that I have manged to build up a good infrastructure for containers, a raised bed, and watering in the last few years. Based on my experiences from last year, though, we made a few little changes.

First of all, we wanted a tomatillo, but didn’t want it crawling all over the lawn this year. I’ve stuck it in a container hoping that will help restrain its growth slightly. We had discussed putting a tomatillo in an up-side-down grower of some sort, but Mark felt that if the plant wasn’t anchored to the earth, it might get free and run around the neighborhood, making “RAWR” noises and wearing it’s little green topsy-turvey hat.

We moved the big mountain tomato to a container as well, as I didn’t like my tomatoes hanging into the basement window-well last year. This left plenty of space for our pepper plants in the raised bed. They fit very nicely, but haven’t seemed perfectly happy this year. They got some hail damage over Memorial Day, and may be wanting more sun than that east-bed gets.

Little Successes

One of my proudest moments as a container gardener came last week when we decided to crack open the compost bin. I’ve had this homemade compost bin behind the garage for two years now. We made it out of a small black trash can, covered in holes and lined with window screens. I’ve spent two years filling it with leftover veggies from the CSA, egg shells, coffee grounds and other random greenness. And finally, it has all paid off. Under a layer of dry leaves, sat some of the prettiest, lovely dark compost I could have hoped for. I grew dirt! WOW!

We pulled about a cubic meter of the lovely dark organic matter out of there, and used it to fill in a new tomato container. Those two years of composting have now officially saved us $5 in bought soil!

If everything works out, we should be looking at a big load of crops this year. Tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, strawberries, pumpkins, sugar and snow peas, bush and pole beans, lettuce, carrots, onions, cilantro, basil, and lavender!

The sky is a blue dome, stretching overhead for miles. The mountains zip by at 60 mph for hour after hour. The hillsides are green and brown and snow covered. A warm summer breeze fills the valleys and canyons as we weave our way south through Colorado.

Our weekend destination is Penitente Canyon, a hidden sport climbing spot on the western edge of huge the San Luis valley. Our back is to the San Juans, and our view is towards the distant Sangre de Cristo range. The climbs are all relatively short, protected with ample bolts, and on reddish volcanic tuft, covered in plates, pockets and huecos.

We arrive on Saturday to find the BLM campground outside of the canyon nearly full to bursting. The last site available is the group campsite, and we meet Dave and his three kids, who offer to share the site with the six of us (Mark and me, Bruce, Doug, Julian and Ally). We fill every tent pad, and later meet up with two climbers camping in their van, who take one of our extra parking spots. It turns out to be a great group of people, and we all get along fantastically.

Our gang heads into the canyon to get some climbing in on Saturday afternoon, but my head hurts like mad, so I open up the tent and sleep in the shade and the breeze. They all return happily in the evening, joking about huecos and cracks and rattlesnakes.

On Sunday morning, Mark brings me ovaltine in the tent to settle my stomach, and I manage to get through the early hours without throwing up! Wonder of wonders!! After munching on poptarts and grapes, I feel good enough to join in with the climbing.

The day is warm, but not too warm, and we find a few fun climbs in a quiet side canyon. This is my first time climbing since I officially became pregnant, and I am shocked at first at the several inches I have to let out my harness to get it around the baby bump. But once my fingers and toes get back on the rock, everything feels good and smooth and healthy again.

The morning goes better than could ever have been expected. I float my way up a super thin 10b (Concupiscent Curds), and monkey my way through deep pockets on an overhanging 9 (How The West Was Won). I sit in the shade with the dog, and take a ton of pictures. Everybody has a go on at least one climb, and then its lunch and we hike back to camp for snacks and naps.

In the afternoon, we all take turns on a long 7 (Unknown Name), and I discover the heat and hormones of pregnancy have made my brand new rock shoes officially too small. I think I may have made a $130 mistake buying these last spring, as most pregnant women’s feet increase at least a size, permanently.

I want to climb a beautiful, thin, pink slab in the evening light, but I can’t stand the pain of these shoes on my feet any more. It’s disappointing as hell, but really, just another lesson to roll with the punches.

In the evening, we eat hotdogs for dinner, and I’m so exhausted I crash in the tent before it’s even dark. I fall asleep listening to distant quiet conversations around the campfire.

Monday morning, I manage once again to not throw up! (Don’t worry, it comes back next week) Mark makes pancakes which we top with blueberries, and then, in a fit of genius, he puts the blueberries in the batter and the result is breakfast art. We pack up, briefly discuss stopping by the Sand Dune, but decide at the last minute that we don’t really have time, and head for home. Thank you everybody for such a great weekend!

Mark’s parents got a last minute condo rental in Estes Park this spring, and we all decided to make a trip out of it for a fun vacation in the mountains. Bruce flew in from San Diego, and Mark and I drove up from the Fort.

The weather worked out well for the weekend, finally warming up enough to make a day out in the mountains really nice. Also, my nausea has started to subside, and by the start of this trip, I had gotten back a little bit of energy.

We decided to take Mark’s family up Lilly Mountain, one of our favorite hikes in Estes Park. The little summit of this mountain has one of the most incredible views of Rocky Mountain National Park that we have found anywhere.

And it’s just a “short” 2 mile hike!

Two miles doesn’t sound like much, until you’ve spent the last 4 months with your head in a toilette. Mark’s mom and brother were both recovering from colds as well, and hitting a steep mountain trail on their first day at altitude may not have been the best decision.

It was a strong effort, and we all made it all the way up to the summit on Saturday! We all felt very accomplished for the day as we dragged our tired bodies back to the rental. And we all earned our tasty dinners from Ed’s that night.

With me being pregnant (yes, I can officially announce it now at 13 weeks), our weekends have slowed down dramatically. If I can make it outside at all, we’re looking for short, fun hikes and the trip up to Horsetooth Falls fit the bill. As Mark and I pulled up to the (very nice, new, expanded) parking area, clouds were gathering overhead, and a few rain drops spattered on our windsheild.

The hike winds along the middle of Horsetooth mountain, and follows a creek up to the falls. As we were walking, I stopped to photograph a dozen different types of lovely early spring wildflowers that were blooming along the trail.

We actually came to a little bridge over the creek and a nice view of a fairly tall cataract in the creek. Mark and I were not expecting much from the falls, so we assumed this must be it. Mark snacked and read his book, while I scrambled around wet, slimy rocks taking photos of this nice little water fall.

After a few minutes, we noticed that several other groups had hiked right past us and these “falls”, so we decided to see if there was something more interesting further down the trail. Indeed, there was!

When we arrived at the falls, they were much more lovely and dramatic than I had expected. Water rushed over a pink granite cliff line, and plunged into a pool 30ft below. I have heard these falls aren’t much more than a trickle through the summer and fall, but this spring, after all of our rain and snow, the falls were running thick and beautifully.

We admired (read: photographed) the actual falls for another 10 minutes. As we did, a cold wind picked up and the temperature started dropping. We debated continuing on this trail for another mile and looping back through a different trail system, but decided the smart thing to do was to head back to the car before the rain started really coming down.

We made it home dry, happy, and refreshed. And I can recommend Horsetooth Falls as a nice family hike, especially in a wet spring.

It’s early spring in Northern Colorado, and I am as sick as I’ve ever been. It’s a struggle to make it into work each morning, and I find my weekends filled with hours and hours of laying on the couch, trying not to vomit. Despite my nausea and malaise, the northern hemisphere has been slowly warming, the grass is greening along the Front Range, and the beautiful stone of Colorado is quietly transforming into its springtime beauty.

Of course, I’m in no shape to climb. Mark isn’t much better off, as he had a bout of Salmonella poisoning (AFTER we got back from Thailand) that knocked him on his butt for two weeks. A month goes by and we barely get outside enough to walk the dog.

Finally, we just can’t stand it any more. We pack up some water, tissues, lots of snacks and the camera and go find the easiest hike we can. It happens to be in Lory State Park.

We pull into the park around 1p, and the sun is shining brilliantly. We pay the $6 vehicle fee (ouch) and park at a low trailhead, near what looks to be a new dirt-bike park. We decide the low-altitude, nearly flat, east valley trail is the best one for us today, and set out at a slow pace.

We both brought warm fleece jackets, but end up hiking in our shirt sleeves. There are boats out on the reservoir, and we watch as fishermen yell at party-boaters for blasting crappy dance music too loud. Liv chases small rodents between yuccas, and I take a ton of pictures. We meet a few other hikers, dogs and horse-riders out on the trail, but mostly the afternoon is quiet, calm and peaceful.

After a mile or so, we decide to start heading back. Mark wants to turn the walk into a loop, so we cross the road and connect up to the West Valley trail. We follow this for maybe half a mile (past a rowdy group of picnic’ers) and then head back towards our trailhead. Only, we’re not quite as close as I thought, and when I realize how much further I have to walk, I bail. I find a nice picnic table in the sun, lay down, and wait for Mark to go get the car and pick me up.

Not the stunning conclusion to the amazing adventures that we have been blessed with over the years, for sure. But we get outside, we get a little sun and fresh air, and I get a few nice pictures.

When reading guidebooks and planning our trip, I had decided against riding elephants in Thailand. Everybody talked about how horrible animal exploitation was, how poorly treated the elephants were, how the keepers kept them starving and worn down, and how westerners perpetuated this problem.

Evidently, since these guidebooks were written, some of the Elephant keepers in Thailand have wised up a bit. At least in the area we were visiting, “Elephant Eco-Tours” were advertised in all of the tourist shops. We decided to try one out that proclaimed the outfit was run by a village cooperative that treated the elephants like members of their own families. And we were glad we did.

Videos and photos after the break…

Ok, here’s my last post on to cover our climbing adventures in Thailand. If you missed the previous two parts, check out our rocky start, and Thailand’s redemption. I’m not sure why I’m having such a hard time blogging lately. I’ve had some health problems (more on that later, I’m sure), and for some reason, the idea of blogging makes me rather nauseous right now. Today, I want to bite the bullet and get these last two posts up.

On our last full day in Railay, we made the most of it. We ate a huge breakfast, lounged around until nearly 11, and then wandered up to the Thaiwand for one last go on those beautiful 6’s.

Fit To Be Thai’d (6a+, 10b) – Of course, most of the routes on the rock were full of groups of climbers, so we headed up the… interesting… ladder to the routes on the west side. Mark led up this long, lovely 10b, and I followed. It was one of the first tall routes in Thailand that I didn’t feel exposed and freaked out on. I loved every minute of it. The view was incredible, and the climbing was so much fun!

After this route, we decided to camp out in line for Lord of the Thai’s (6a, 5.10a – 1st pitch). We lounged around in the orange dirt for probably an hour, watching a group of 4 people all climb the first pitch of this route. Of course, as soon as we get a chance to hop on it, the first weather we’ve seen in two weeks in Thailand seems to move in.

The wind picked up and started swirling orange dirt everywhere. Thunder rumbled constantly in the distance. Mark led the climb quickly and carefully, and I climbed and cleaned it. It was a long, fun route. And from the top, I could see out over all of Railay and towards Krabi in the distance. The storms were kilometers away, and we were in no danger.

In all, I wish we’d had another two months to spend climbing in Thailand. The routes of the area were so much fun. Long, overhanging, well protected, gymnastic, bucket-hauls that I was finally getting a good taste for right when we left.

On our way out of town, we donated our 2-year old rope and nasty old climbing shoes to Wee’s climbing outfit. At least future deep water solo’ers will have the option of Mark’s size 11’s and my size 5’s. :) And our rope will no doubt live on as anchor tat or boat anchor line somewhere in Southeast Asia.