Melba Highlands

The route had been organized and thoroughly planned, each party was given a map with appropriate written commentary on the back. D and I love being invited on these festive group bike rides with my parents and their athletic group of friends.

We arrived in Melba under precarious skies, mountain bikes and road bikes alike. D rode at my pace like a true gentleman as my 1980s Schwinn Road Bike navigated the rough pavement. About 6 miles in the hail started. This is how we earn our post ride beer. The sun came out, the hills got steeper...I actually had to change gears (I like to pretend I ride a single speed). Past the hilltop gun range (somehow there are always guns involved on these festive rides). Finalmente we arrived at the base of a dirt road. At the top of this ominous hill was the Sawtooth Winery. People were pushing their road bikes in a last-ditch effort to summit. At last we were able to invade the tasting room for some wine and serious complimentary cheese (I think we cleaned her out of the cheese). Several purchases later and we're all heading back down that ominous hill only to be met with yet another uphill adventure. Cheerful people passed me by while I grumbled curses. Then a series of beautiful downhill jaunts and we were home free. We wrapped it up in just under 30 miles.

Run!

I signed up for a marathon, which means I have to 'train'. This coincides with uncharacteristic blizzards and snowfall hitting the area. Actually it's kind of festive. The snow is soft to run on and it's nice to be bundled up from head to toe. We ran in the foothills the other day through wind and sleet. As we ran single file down a gulch trail, we came upon evidence of a predator-prey scenario...there was a bunch of blood and fur. Probably a mountain lion and a deer. It's a little disconcerting to see evidence of a killing on the very trail where my slow, out of shape ass is running. This is life in Idaho as I've always known it, never hurts to carry a little bear mace (being an anti-gun toting Idahoan, a rare species indeed.) Bears and Mountain Lions need food too, plus it's a great motivator to run faster-the threat of being eaten.

An Evening Run

Last night we went jogging through the Boise Foothills. The trails were covered in snow and we passed cross-country skiers and mountain bikers alike. My feet were wet, but the silence was ever-present aside from being chided by two owls who glowered at us from the tree tops. Clouds blocked the sunset, creating more of a sepia-toned dusk. Toward the end of our run, a little fox swept across the trail glancing back briefly to eye us suspiciously.