Whaaa-hooo!

Three years ago, my parents and I were walking around San Francisco and saw a zip line set up at a street fair.  Mom wanted to go, but they were wrapping up for the evening.  Ever since then, Mom brings up doing a zip line every chance she gets.  Last Saturday, Mom finally got her opportunity.  I’ll leave out the frankly annoying tale about how I came about having a Groupon for a Zip Line for two, and simply say that I was delighted to share the day with my Mom. 

Under a clear blue sky and hot summer sun, Mom and I arrived at the rather unassuming office for Eco-Zipline Tours, just south of New Florence on Highway 19.  As we got fitted for our gear, we checked out our fellow adventurers; they were an intriguing mix of people.  Three girlfriends from St. Louis who enjoyed getting out and trying new things.  A mother and her two young daughters, one in that awkward stage where you’re deciding if you should sneak makeup to school in our backpack, and the other still young enough to enjoy Barbies.  A guy and a girl who I never quite figured out if they were together or not. 

Our tour guides were Ronnie and Mike.  Ronnie was hot, Mike was sweet.  Both of them loved being on the zip lines and made the experience fun, even between zips.  After a quick tutorial on how to brake on the lines, we were off.  Mike was the first one to zip out, and I was next. 

I have to say that stepping off that platform the first time, I was a bit trepidatious. But that first zip was rather anti-climatic.  I don’t know what I was expecting- you have to have some sort of training run, or oh-my-god-I-really-really-don’t-think-I-can-do-this run.  Mom came next, and then we watched the little girls come across.  The younger one was having a much better time than her sister. 

The next zip was better; we didn’t have to worry about our new braking skills and the woods were lovely.  Mom was having a good time, and I was regretting that I’d just gotten the cheap tour.  This is something we could do all day and be just as happy as could be.

Near the end of our tour, they gave us the option of upgrading to the longer tour.  No question, we were going on.  Thankfully, the young family was done, the maybe couple or not also were finished, and it was just the three girlfriends who were out for an adventure to join us.  Those ladies, by the way, were a hoot. 

The zips only got better.  My favorite one was the one where Ronnie bounced the line as you jumped off and your zip was like riding a roller coaster.  Following this was probably the one that ran across a ravine, offering a scenic view of the Ozarks. 

The tour guides kept giving us little tidbits as we went.  On one of the zips, Ronnie popped the zipline and let us watch the wave run back and forth down the cable.  They estimated that the wave was going 60mph.  At another spot, Mike had a rock that they had collected nearby with shell fossils in the limestone.  The science geek in me loved the trivia.

Mom and I had a great time, and our tour came to an end much too quickly.  But, having done it once, I think we’ll be looking for other opportunities to go zipping through the woods. 

Eco Zipline Tours:  http://www.ecoziplinetours.com/

A Walk in Forest Park

I'll let the photos do the talking this week...

Olympic Glory

As a little girl, I had the pleasure every four years of watching the elegant women in fancy sequined leotards float across a frozen sea of ice followed a few months later by a different set of beautiful women in fancy sequined leotards twirling and flying through the air without the benefit of the ice.  I would day dream about being one of those fancy women; they made it all seem so easy.  But I’m basically lazy so I just watched, played with my Barbies, and pinned an old blanket around my shoulders and pretended I was a princess.

My Barbies are long gone.  I still wander around sometimes with a blanket slung over my shoulders, but that is to keep warm.  However I still love watching gymnastics and pretending that I am out there doing flips and flying around the uneven bars.  Now that I have actually spent some serious time training for competitive sports, I watch with a whole different eye.  I don’t claim to know anything about gymnastics, but I’ve learned something about heart in the last few years.

This morning, I went to Chaifetz Arena to watch the VISA Championship and cheer on future Olympians.  This is a gymnastics competition that brings together the best gymnasts in the USA to vie for spots on the National Team and the opportunity to try out for the US Olympic Team.  Since I didn’t have any skin in the game (didn’t know any of the competitors), I went to the earlier session which was day two of the Junior Women Championship.  These are younger women who are up and coming in the sport, but I don’t think that they are eligible to try out for this year’s Olympic Team.

To be there in the crowd was fascinating.  You could easily tell who the crowd favorites were; the crowd viscerally shared in the experience of the girls’ trials and triumphs.  Shortly after I sat down, one of the girls fell off the balance beam and the entire audience moaned in distress.  When the young women were doing the floor exercises, every time they hit a complicated move, the audience clapped in delight. 

My favorite competitor to watch was a young lady named Simone Biles.  She first caught my eye on the vault.  Her focus and attention were wholly on that vault.  I thought she did a good job but then my criterion is that she didn’t land on her face.  Apparently the judges thought she did a good job too since she won gold for that apparatus.  However the reason I kept watching her was that she just seemed like a genuinely nice person.  She was focused on her game, but she also smiled and seemed like she was having a good time.  At the end, she was the only one who hugged her fellow medalists- real hugs, not a half arm around the shoulder, I’ll beat you next time too hugs.

At the end of the competition, I still don’t know any more about gymnastics than I did going into it, but I have more respect than ever for the athletes who put their heart and soul into doing what the love.  And in a few years when Simone Biles’s day comes to vault in the Olympics, I’ll be able to say that I was there when…

A few links for your viewing pleasure.  If they are dead, my apologies, but things move on in the sports world.

Photos on STL Today:  http://stltoday.mycapture.com/mycapture/folder.asp?event=1484575&CategoryID=38576&ListSubAlbums=0

Results:  https://usagym.org/pages/post.html?PostID=10264&prog=h

The King’s Faire

My day at the Faire started with a lovely drive down a winding country road bordered by grain fields and country estates.  I passed by a lovely lake that I am sure was teeming with fish and arenas suited to equestrian tournaments.  The Faire was in a village tucked into the trees of an old growth forest.  Being early in the day, I was able to find a good parking spot for my blue carriage and 179 horse team. 

Going into the fairgrounds, I was greeted by a pair of cute young standard bearers; however, I prefer a little more life in from men in uniform, so I didn’t stop and flirt.  Like the guards at Buckingham palace, they would not have responded anyway. 

The weather was beautiful for wandering around and enjoying the various amusements offered.  My first stop was an entertainer whose idea of fun was to squirm through a tennis racket while balancing on a giant pilates ball.  While I don’t think that they had pilates during the Renaissance, he was funny and engaging.

Wandering on, I found a woman named Kathy making art glass ornaments.  She had wonderful earcuffs made from glass and would custom fit them for purchasers.  I found one in swirls of red, black and grey that she carefully reworked to securely fit my own ear.  She even gave me a kitty to dangle of the end.  I thought it was lovely without, but I think that for her, the dangly bits complete the piece.

I turned a corner of the Faire and came upon a musical group that sung of nature in beautiful harmony.  Their songs were made more haunting by the verdant growth that formed the set for their sylvan stage.  They did not draw nearly the crowd of some of the other performers, but their lyrical talents far exceeded the performances of anyone else.

After the music was over, I continued to meander through the Faire.  As with most Renaissance Faires, the assortment of costumes worn by visitors was delightful.  From little girls running around with flower garlands in their hair to a teenager dressed as a faun, it was delightful to watch.  Jack Sparrow probably stole the show with his dreadlocks and impetuous behavior.

At one end of the Faire, they had set up a Maypole.  While I didn’t participate in dancing around it, I wondered if the lone guy got roped into dancing because they needed one more person, or because he appreciated the irony of it. 

And of course, what Faire would be complete without a good joust?  Daring knights, beautiful horses, challenges and insults- the joust had it all.  Of course, I was rooting for the knight in purple, but sadly, he couldn’t catch a ring if his life depended on it.

After getting my fill of swords, leather, and corsets, I found my team and carriage and got lost in the lush country side surrounding the Faire.  

St. Louis Renaissance Fair – www.renstl.org

Mentioned:

Crazy Boy Coy Espinoza, Fire Eater Extraordinaire

Greenleaf Singers, Madrigals

Majestic Glass, Katherine Gardner-Wilson

If Home Is Where the Heart Is, Then I Have Three

                 Friday morning found me driving down I-44, dreaming away the miles to the Oklahoma border.  Swing music streamed to my radio from my iPhone, my cat snoozed in her carrier next to me, and I practiced counting to six in half beats as the road signs counted down to zero for me.

                For the first time in ten years, I went to the Lake for Memorial Day.  Recognizing this, I spent part of the drive thinking about what home is.  For me, I have three. 

                My first home and my heart’s home is Oklahoma.  I grew up in the cities of Oklahoma, but was tempered by summers on the lakes.  When I first decided to return to the Midwest, Oklahoma was my first choice for family.

                My last home was Alaska.  I spent almost ten years in the Last Frontier, enjoying the wildflowers of summer, and doing my best to appreciate the winters (I’m not exactly the alpine skiing, snow machining, ice-fishing type).  The friendships I formed there were strong, girlfriends who were there for me whether I needed them or not, and guy friends who made me feel beautiful and appreciated, even if it was just by throwing me around on a jiu-jitsu mat for a few minutes.

                My current home is St. Louis.  I’ll admit that as of today, St. Louis is still only my home because it is where I live, but I’ve only been here two months.  As much of St. Louis as I have seen, I’m still finding my place- be it swing dancing, martial arts, running, or just hanging out, I’m still figuring out where I belong in this great big city.

                As the miles passed by on Friday traveling from one home to another, I thought about these three homes.  Soon, I’ll only have two as my Alaska home fades to a fond heart’s memory rather than part of my identity.   I know my friends will be there, but not for dinner and coffee and jiu-jitsu five nights a week.

                Over time, St. Louis will become my life’s home, as I make connections and friends.  It just takes time and patience.  I have more of one than the other, but I’ll get by.

                In the end, Oklahoma will always be my childhood home and my heart’s home.  While St. Louis is a six hour drive from the Lake, it is an easy trip to make.  For the first time in years, I spent Memorial Day weekend with my family, picking peaches and making pie, hanging out on the deck and visiting for hours, driving around the Lake just for the joy ride, and wandering through flea markets looking for the good deals we probably didn't need anyway.  Life is good- complete with fresh peaches and tart cherry pie.

Reclaiming the 80's

I’ve spent the last couple of days seriously considering the possibility that I have lost my mind; or, as is more likely, the last several months have been a transformative experience, one in which I can create for myself a new life and a new self where I am not constrained by the expectations of others.  But what has brought on this sudden bout of personal introspection?

Thursday, I signed up to run in a 5K. 

Me?  Run?  HA!

A year ago, running was a form of torture perpetrated on me by my Jiu-Jitsu instructors (though they would probably disagree with that assessment).  Even six months ago, I would have looked at someone jogging and panting and sweating by the side of the road and wondered why they thought that was a good way to spend a Friday evening.  However, in the last few months, I’ve started making use of the treadmill in my apartment complex since I’m pretty sure I’m paying a premium for that privilege.

This brings us to last Thursday when, on a lark, I signed up for today’s Benton Park Reclaiming the 80’s 5K. And what a lark it was.  What do you remember most about the eighties?

For me, when it came to “costume” ideas, it was the wild sunglasses, ponytails on the side of the head, bangs hair-sprayed six inches tall, and knotted hems in t-shirts.  All of these were out in force this morning, along with knee socks, the ankle socks that you turned down to show the cute lace on the cuff, t-shirts with the collar cut out to hang off the shoulder for the girls, and t-shirts cut across the midriff for the guys. 

There were a couple of stand-outs in the costumes.

My favorite was the guy wearing the Atari jacket.  At first, I thought he was also wearing a yellow motorcycle helmet until I got a closer look at it and realized that it was really a plush pac-man hat.  I guess his head was the ghost…  However, I can’t make too much fun of him, because for the short portion of the race where we shared the street (saying we ran together would be a gross misrepresentation of what occurred), he was apparently running backwards to check on one of his friends.  I think, like some canines I have had the pleasure of hiking with, he ran eight or nine kilometers during the race rather than the designated course length of 5km. 

In another flashback to the best of the eighties, one of the race organizers was wearing a Ghostbusters costume- complete with inflatable proton pack weapon.  Where some of the participants went with the worst of the eighties (knee socks with running shorts?), this guy went with one of the best things to come out of the decade – The Ghostbusters.  Adam Sandler has nothing on Bill Murray or Dan Aykryod.  That movie still makes me laugh.

As for the race itself, I will spare you to pitiful details of my own performance.  Let’s just say that it is somewhat humbling to have someone almost twice my age finish in roughly half my time.  However, at the start of the race, it was really cool to see the wave of people cascading down the road in front of me and know that I was part of the fun.  At the end, my calves are sore, my feet have a new collection of blisters, and I lost three pounds in water weight, but I had a great time doing it.  Maybe running isn’t such a crazy thing after all.

Benton Park:  http://www.bpnastl.org/

The IMDB page for The Ghostbusters: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0087332/

Art in the Park

                Every time I drive down I-44, I see a sign for Tulsa and I smile.  I’m close enough to home that the road signs point the direction for me.  I also see a sign for the Laumeier Sculpture Park and think to myself “I should stop some day and check it out.”

                Today, I went to the annual Art Fair at the sculpture park.  Of all the art fairs I have been to over the years, from the May Fest on the streets of downtown Tulsa to the Forest Fair under the towering birch of Girdwood, Alaska, the Laumeier Sculpture Park was one of the more befitting settings I have seen. 

Sculptures liberally decorate the park, from a mosaiced cat that greets you at the entrance to mammoth steel edifices that tower over the grassy lawns.  An enormous eyeball reminded me of those awful gumballs you see at Halloween but seemed to hold great interest for the little boys at the fair with their parents. 

The Art Fair was delightful with a very good mix of media and style.  My favorites included the photography exhibitors (as usual); I bought a print from Marty Hulsebos of Aspen trees taken looking up at the sky through the canopy of leaves.  I also enjoyed the various art glass booths, and was tempted to buy Mom a new garden globe.  Mom did get a new present, but since I’m pretty sure that she’ll read this before she gets it, I won’t spoil the surprise….

One booth completely unexpected booth featured embroidery.  These weren't pillows and napkins, they weren’t counted cross-stitch, and there wasn’t a single sampler in sight.  Each item was a finely rendered, delicately stitched piece of artwork.  From ten feet away, they looked like paintings of birds and flowers.  Until I was standing right in front of them, I didn’t realize that they were painstakingly stitched by hand. 

As this was a juried fair, the variety and style of different jewelry was fantastic.  From artglass creations to outlandish pearl collars to a variety of different metal working techniques, each artist had a unique perspective to offer.  At one booth, I wondered if the artist had done quilling before she took up metal working because the pieces had a distinct resemblance to that unique type of paper craft.  At another booth, the gal created her own beads from river pebbles and worked them into pendants and earrings.

A bit of sun, a pair of earrings, and a new photo for my pin cushion walls later, and I would say that my day at the sculpture park was a success.

The Laumeier Sculpture Park: http://laumeiersculpturepark.org/

Marty Hulsebos Photography: http://martyhulsebos.com/

Note:  A big shout-out to The St. Louis Transplants for their gathering at the Art Fair today; I wouldn’t have known about the Fair otherwise and their gathering made for a very pleasant afternoon.  http://www.stltransplants.com/