Too Much Awesomeness

If I Could Live Anywhere, It Would Be a House of Pies

When Coyotes Attack (for reals!)

Friday night's hike started off well.  Boyfriend didn't come with us, since he was at work.  When Riley the Naughty Dog and I passed AAL without incident, I thought things were going well.

And they were.  Until the end.  Since we got a late start, it was dark by the time we got to the last stretch of the hike.  I didn't have my Sexy Headlamp on, because I was kind of enjoying the feeling of being at one with nature in the darky-dusk.  Also, we hadn't seen any bats, so I felt like I wasn't in danger.

Boy, was I wrong!

Suddenly Riley stopped and was at high alert - that cute ears-up, paw-up thing that dogs do.  I followed her gaze and saw a coyote about 40 feet from us.  He was pretty - silhouetted by the city lights, with the hill behind him.  Then he turned and ran up the hill away from us and was gone.

But even though the coyote was gone, Riley didn't want to leave.  She kept staring at an area much closer to us, an area right next to the trail that was completely in the dark from shadows thrown by the trees and rocks next to the trail.  Then, out of that dark, a shadowy creature emerged and moved towards us.  It was low to the ground and at first I thought "My, what a large, funny raccoon!"  But this large raccoon kept moving quickly towards us, and I sensed that something was amiss.  So I whipped out my headlamp and turned it on.

When my light shone on the large raccoon, imagine my surprise when I saw a coyote freeze.

And another coyote freeze behind him.

And a third coyote behind him.

TERRIFYING to have six coyote eyes staring at you in the reflection of your Sexy Headlamp.  The nearest coyote was only about 15 feet away from me.  Riley started tugging on her leash and whining, wanting to go play with the coyotes.  And the coyotes wanted her to come, but not to play.

I was so scared.  Really scared.  The coyotes were not scared, they just stared at us.  Riley was also not scared, she just tried to get off her leash to play with the coyotes.  I was the only scared one.  So I yelled "Go away, coyotes!"

But the coyotes didn't go away.

I didn't know what to do, so I turned to walk quickly away.  But I didn't like turning my back to the coyotes.  And I quickly realized that every time I would take a few steps with my back to them, the coyotes would follow, coming ever closer to me, and to Riley (their ultimate delicious target).  The boldest coyote would only stop when I shined my headlamp directly on him. 

I was terrified.  I wasn't sure the appropriate etiquette for being stalked in the dark by coyotes - Do you run at them, or does that make them attack you?  Do you run away, or does that make them attack you?  Do you stand in the dark and hope a stranger comes and saves you, or does that make them attack you?  Do you call your boyfriend over and over and over while shining your headlamp at the coyotes, hoping they don't come any closer?  (note:  it doesn't matter if you call your boyfriend over & over for help if he doesn't answer his phone)

Finally, I did a weird sideways crab walk, pulling the dog who still wanted to play, and yelling in a weird panicky voice "Go away, coyotes!" and shining my headlamp. 

The bravest coyote followed us all the way down the dirt trail, only leaving us when we reached the road. 

We made it back to our car (where I tried to calm down and hugged the very confused dog), and then back to Boyfriend's house (where I drank several beers and tried to calm down and hugged my very confused Boyfriend), but I am never EVER hiking alone at night again.

When AALs Attack

Here's the hike we do almost every night:

You may notice that it's uphill. I notice that every night. I am never less angry about it.

You may also notice the AAL designation. "What is AAL?" you ask. AAL stands for Angry Asian Lady.

A bit of background before I fully explain AAL - When we hike on this trail, Riley the Crazy Dog stays on her leash. Having dogs on leash is the rule in the park, but it's also easier for me - I don't want her running off to join a pack of coyotes (she thinks coyotes are dogs who really, really want to be her friend).

Because the path is steep and I am lazy, the hill makes me huff and puff and think about how much I hate hills. Because I'm focused on my anger at hills, I don't always notice right away when Riley stops to lick people who are coming down the hill.  But when it happens, I always stop her and apologize.  But because it's a very dog friendly park, everyone laughs and pets Riley the Crazy and complement how cute she is (she really is).

But a few weeks ago, I was pulled out of my Hill Hate by a scream. A terrified scream. The scream I would make if bats were nesting in my hair. I turned quickly, expecting to see a mutilated body, but just saw Riley trying to lick AAL (although we didn't know how ANGRY AAL was just then). AAL was screaming and jumping around. All this excitement confused Riley, who then barked and jumped. I can see how barking and jumping could seem aggressive to someone afraid of dogs, but Riley actually thought that the jumping and shrieking meant "Let's play a game! See if you can catch me to lick me!" and so the jumping and shrieking made her more excited to play the game.  But this was NOT the game that AAL was trying to play.

The jumping made AAL even more angry and she began to yell at me. I apologized - I really did feel bad.  But after apologizing, there wasn't much left to say, so Riley and I went on our way, as AAL stood her ground and yelled at our backs.

Ever since that incident, we have run into AAL almost every time we go hiking. We seem to be on the same schedule, with AAL coming down as we go up. And every time she sees me & Riley, she starts to scream at us and jump around (even though I've been careful to keep Riley close to me when we see her, so there has been no further contact). AAL first yells at me in Chinese. After that, she yells at me in English about what a bad dog I have. She then asks me "Do you understand?"  The first few times, I apologized and tried to explain that Riley was friendly and would calm down with calmer energy- that screaming and jumping made Riley think that I was in danger from AAL and that she needed to protect me. But I guess I couldn't be heard over all that yelling, because AAL just kept yelling every time she saw us. So I gave up.

The last couple of times that we've run into her, we have followed the same pattern - AAL yells at me in Chinese and then in English, and then asks me if I understand. But now I just sigh and answer "No, I don't understand" and walk away. Because what else is there to say?

Self Portrait

I call this Self Portrait: Dog and Hiking Boots by Headlamp

Last night, we saw two deer, a coyote, and a bat while hiking (it's almost like we don't live in a major metropolitan area). The dog lost her mind over the deer. The deer also lost their minds over the dog, but in a different way.

When Bats Attack

Rumor has it, and this was verified by a Google search, that you should be in good shape to climb Kilimanjaro.

I've been trying to hike. But it's HARD. Long hikes take time, and it's hard to find time when there's WORK and Work thinks that you should be with him and him only until late into the evening.

That pushes hikes until after work, which is often later in the evening.  And sometimes going to the park to hike late at night is scary, because it's dark.

"You're afraid of heights AND the dark?" you might be asking yourself.

NO.

I am not afraid of the dark. I am afraid of bats, and bats come out in the park in the dark.

Some people, like Boyfriend, think this fear isn't rational.

Boyfriend:  Why are you afraid of bats? The bats here aren't the bloodsucking kind.
Me:   That's what they want you to think, so you're not careful, and you let down your guard, and then the bats sneak up on you and suck your blood.
Boyfriend:  No, they don't.
Me:  Also, they try to nest in your hair.
Boyfriend:  Sigh.

I can't convince him, but when the bats attack and then nest in your hair, consider yourself warned.

The only thing to do: Wear a headlamp. That's right. I wear a headlamp when it gets dark. That way I don't trip, and it scares away the bats. I have been told by Boyfriend that my headlamp is not sexy. But since being attacked by bats is also not sexy, I'm sticking with the headlamp.

The Scary, Scary Heights of Kilimanjaro

I am afraid of heights.

Not just a little scared. I am terrified. Weak in the knees, sick to my stomach afraid.

Why am I climbing the highest mountain in Africa, then?

I am not sure.  Somehow Boyfriend has convinced me that there is nothing to be afraid of, that we won't experience any drop offs or scary cliff edges while going up or going down Kilimanjaro.

I'm not sure that makes sense. In fact, I am pretty sure that makes NO sense.

But I can't ask. It's too embarrassing to call the tour company, the tour company who we have already paid, and paid A LOT, and ask them if someone who is afraid of heights can climb Kilimanjaro.

If you were the tour company, wouldn't you laugh at the person who made that call?

Coming up with a plan for Kilimanjaro injuries

In a blog I was reading the other day, a guy shared his experience climbing Kilimanjaro.  A member of the team he was climbing with fell and broke her leg.  Her husband and kids decided to continue the climb while she was evacuated to the hospital.  This decision was apparently very controversial, with the rest of the team split between thinking the family should have gone with her to the hospital, and those who thought that it was right to continue the climb.

This made me wonder:  What would Boyfriend and I do if something happened to one of us?

I feel pretty strongly that if I fell and broke my leg, I'd want Boyfriend to go on and finish the climb.  He's really into making the Summit, and I think I'd feel guilty if he came down for a non-life threatening injury.

I mentioned the scenario while we were hiking the other night, and asked what he would do.

His immediate response:  "You are not getting out of the climb by breaking your leg."

I really just wanted a game plan for how we'd handle a disaster.

But now I'm considering other options.......

The Adventure of the Boots

I have been breaking in some hiking boots for a few months now.  Never before had I owned a pair of hiking boots.  At first, I hated those boots.  Not only did they feel clunky and strange, I was pretty sure that they were trying to strangle my ankles.  And no one wants their ankles strangled on the excuse that they're being offered "ankle support".

But these boots grew on me.  I broke them in.  They stopped trying to strange my ankles.  We became friends, my dusty, clunky boots and I.

While in Utah, Boyfriend and I went on three really long hikes.  During these hikes, the boots turned on me.  My right big toe started to hurt.  Really hurt.

I say to Boyfriend "My toe hurts."  He ignores me as he studies our picture map.

I do what I always do in the cases where Boyfriend ignores what I'm saying.  I repeat myself every 5 minutes or so until I get a response. "My toe hurts."  "My toes hurts."  "My toe hurts." (Fact:  This is not annoying AT ALL)

Boyfriend clearly thought that I was just being a whiner (and quite possibly trying to get out of hiking Kili), but my toe really hurt.

The next weekend, I went for a pedicure, and when the woman took off my toenail polish, my entire right big toenail was one giant black & blue bruise.  Ew.

I wasn't sure what this meant for our giagantic Kilimanjaro hike, so I went to the experts who sold me the shoes at REI.  I showed the Shoe Sale Girl both my boots and my toenail (no such thing as too much sharing).  "Oh no," Shoe Sale Girl cried when I showed her my toe.  "That must hurt!"  To when I replied a forceful "YES!  IT DOES!", just to remind Boyfriend that I am not a whiner trying to get out of climing Kilimanjaro - that my toe REALLY HURT.

Shoe Sales Girl explained that my boots are too small, so when feet swell on long hikes, bad things happen to toes.  And that if I continue to hike with those boots, I will lose my toenail.

I prefer not to lose my toenail.  That is gross.

So Shoe Sales Girl said that she'd help me find new boots.  So she brought out boots, and I tried on boots.  And more boots.  And Shoe Sales Girl kept asking me:  "How do those feel?"  Which is nice of her.  But also really stressful because they all felt FINE.  I tried explaining that my old boots, the ones that would cause me to lose a toenail, also felt FINE.  So how am I supposed to tell the difference between shoes that feel FINE and are actually going to be the right shoes, and shoes that feel FINE but are not fine.  "Do these feel right?"  How do I know, when I don't know how they're supposed to feel?!

When I tried explaining that the boot buying process was stressing me out, I stressed Shoe Sales Girl out, apparently.  She went to helping someone else.

Eventually I just got tired of it and picked a pair of boots that seemed reasonably comfortable.  They aren't trying to strangle my ankles, but they feel clunky and strange.  I don't love them.

Then I asked her about socks.  She asked what kind of socks I was wearing to hike, and I told her socks I picked up at Target.  She laughed, as apparently only a fool would do such a thing.  She then sold me 2 pairs of $15 hiking socks.

Will the socks be worth it?  Will I grow to love my new shoes?  Will the new shoes lure me in, make me love them, and then turn on me, leaving me toenail-less in spite of everything?  Only time will tell.

One Month Until Kilimanjaro

Today we are exactly one month from our departure for Africa.

On Sunday, Boyfriend decided that we were going to go hiking EVERY DAY between now and the trip.� I agreed that sounded like a good idea.�

But then yesterday we were TIRED.

So instead of hiking, we sat on the couch, ordered pizza, and watched The Middleman. (Fact: The Middleman is the BEST SHOW ON TV)

After Middleman, we watched an IMAX movie of a Kilimanjaro climb.� In the group they followed to the Summit, there was a 65-year-old woman and a 13-year-old boy.� Everyone made it to the top.

According to Boyfriend, the movie should make me feel better.� If a 65-year-old and a 14-year-old can make it, there is no reason for me not to make it.

Which is sort of true.� But, also, if I don’t make it, doesn’t it make it WAY more embarrassing that a 65-year-old and a 14-year-old made it?

I'm going up Mt. Kilimanjaro!

Five weeks from today, I will be in Africa.

 

I am going to Africa to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro.  Mt. Kilimanjaro is the highest mountain in Africa.  It is the highest free-standing mountain in the world.  It's so high that no one actually knows how high it is (that's a scientific fact).

 

Here’s what the people leading our climb say.  They say that things you’ll probably be able to handle it and reach the summit if “you are very fit and outdoorsy and used to continuous camping in adverse conditions…”

 

Is that me?  Maybe. 

 

For example, I couldn’t decide what to have for lunch today, so I just had a Dairy Queen Blizzard. (Snickers.  Delicious.)  Is it “outdoorsy” if it has the word “blizzard” in it?

 

Does it count that I consider my own apartment “adverse conditions” because I have neither Tivo nor cable, so I have to go to Boyfriend’s house to watch The Middleman on ABC Family?

 

Who thinks I’m gonna make it?!  GO SUMMIT!