Once you have your adventure planned it is time to start packing…or at least curating your packing list. This can take some time, especially if this your first time headed on this type of adventure or to a new country. Knowing what to pack is important. You don’t want to pack too much, but no one wants to get stranded without necessities!
The United States has 58 designated national parks with hundreds of other variations of national land [monuments, refuges, historical sites, etc]. Some of these parks are well known with stunning photos of their iconic views splattered all over Instagram. Others are a bit more stealthy about their beauty. The national Read more…
We’ve all heard the phrase “adventure travel”…it has become all the rage in the recent years. But what exactly is adventure travel? A quick search on Google tells us it is essentially “travelling to a remote or exotic place to partake in physically challenging activities that require specialized skills”. Okay, Read more…
Over the last year I’ve heard a lot of advice along the lines of “don’t get in a bad headspace”. I got the gist of what they were saying – to me it was ultra runner speak for “keep your head in the game”. However, I absolutely HATED that phrase for years. It felt insulting and when someone asked if I was in a bad headspace I felt belittled and judged, as if they didn’t trust me to think my own thoughts. A little extreme? Maybe.
What do you do when your immune system gives into a weird bout of the stomach flu and cancels your weekend yurt trip? You watch a lot of movies in the comfort of your own home and reschedule that yurt trip with a hut trip a few weeks later. Or, at least, that’s what I do! I spent this past weekend at Uncle Bud’s Hut doing my best to make up for the weekend my body vetoed in mid-March. Along the way I learned a thing or two about taking the long way and making the most of the situation you’re in…(more…)
All good adventures have a healthy dose of “first time ever” and “happens every time”, right?! Yup, I think that’s a fact. If not a fact, then a solid correlation based upon last weekend’s events. On a bit of a whim a few weeks ago I snagged a bed at one of the 10th Mountain Division Huts, subsequently signing myself up for an “Epic Girls’ Weekend”. Going into this I knew one person — Jenn, a bubbly ultra runner I hadn’t seen in just over a year. Turns out I had a lot in common with the other ladies than I thought possible + our weekend of epic’ness did not disappoint.(more…)
Two weeks ago we packed up our gear with big plans for an early Saturday departure followed by a long weekend deep in the Colorado Rockies avoiding reality, cell signal and any adult responsibilities. Paula showed up at 5:30am, we loaded up the car, stopped for donuts and headed into the mountains. By 9:30am we were parked and unloaded at the Spraddle Creek Trailhead, ready to head up, up, up to the Eiseman Hut.
By the time we got back down to our campsite clouds had moved in and the snow started again, only to move out before we were finished packing up. The weather was weird all weekend – very sporadic. I kinda liked it, we had no time to get tired of whatever was happening before it changed gears!
If you’re busy living in the “winter wonderland” of snow and ice you have three options when it comes to running – giving up on running until spring arrives, running on the treadmill or risking it outside. Personally, I prefer the risking it outside option [primarily because I really like donuts and ice cream…and despise the treadmill] so that’s what I’ve been doing – running outside.
About two weeks ago I lugged my over-sized duffle bag up a gravel trail to Chalet Martin, the hostel that would become my home for the next three weeks…or two months. I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into. I had “met” the owners via WorkAway and we’d both agreed to commit to at least three weeks of a volunteer exchange — I helped out around the hostel [changing beds, basic housekeeping, etc] in exchange for a place to stay. As I walked in the hostel reminded me of the farm house I grew up in — a mud room for shoes + gear and cement stairs that led up to the creaky wood floors of the main level. I was home.