The Tour de Cure

Jason and I decided to bike the Tour de Cure in Brigham City this June, a fundraiser for the American Diabetes Association, with Jason’s brother and dad. Although this event had special meaning for us, heart-twisting meaning, even without that it was a beautiful and worthwhile ride.

Four members of Jason's family participated in the Tour de Cure.
Four members of Jason’s family participated in the Tour de Cure.

The American Diabetes Association organizes Tour de Cure rides in the country’s most picturesque places to raise research money and awareness for a disease that kills 3.4 million people, 70,000 of which are Americans, every year.

The Bear River is the most significant tributary of the Great Salt Lake.
The Bear River is the most significant tributary of the Great Salt Lake.

The Tour de Cure caters to every type of participant from the infrequent rider to the extreme cyclist. Different routes were available for us that ranged from 12 to 100 miles in length. We wisely decided to do the 33.7-mile course. Our route went through the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge all the way to the Great Salt Lake and back. We were surrounded by vocal wetland birds and unusually-saline scenery almost the entire time. The temperatures were absolutely perfect, in the mid-sixties. We couldn’t have asked for a better day to ride.

Jason took lots of pictures while biking. I'm not sure how he didn't eat asphalt.
Jason took lots of pictures while biking. I’m not sure how he didn’t eat asphalt.

Our course started around 8:40 AM and we finished at 11:49 AM, putting us in at about 3H:10M total. Frankly, that was a better time than I expected. After all, this was a ride not a race; no gleaming trophies awaited those that ignored the fine distractions of the setting and pushed themselves to the finish line. So, I braked to smell the salt bogs. Our average speed was right around 12 MPH but we hit rates up to nearly 20 MPH. That tempo would be super impressive if we were no-legged donuts but, since we are people, it’s not so much.

Slow and steady may not win the race but it will get you to the finish line.
Slow and steady may not win the race but it will get you to the finish line.

Although this ride was its own reward, the cause was the chief reason for our participation. Our team raised $2,215 for the American Diabetes Association, an amount we were pleased with. I want to thank all those that supported us. Your generosity meant a lot to a family that will forever be feeling the aftershocks of diabetes’ fury.

Running on Steam

Months ago, my sister asked if I wanted to run a half marathon with her in Steamboat Springs, Colorado. Being me, a planner of incurable magnitude, I not only said yes to this race but organized much more than just a 13.2-mile jaunt down a stunning canyon. I soon had a large group of family, runners and rather-not-runners, onboard for a Steamboat weekend.

The five-story townhouse we rented was roomy and comfy.
The five-story townhouse we rented was roomy and comfy.
Our prodding was the friendly sort.
Our prodding was the friendly sort.

Thanks to Jason, our gang found a five-story townhouse to rent for a good price. It had plenty of bedrooms and bathrooms for the group, two patios, and a private hot tub. It was perfect for hanging together but not too snugly.

See those purple lips? Yeah, I was cold.
See those purple lips? Yeah, I was cold.
I don't get to see my sister too often but I always enjoy her company when I get a chance.
I don’t get to see my sister too often but I always enjoy her company when I get a chance.

We couldn’t go to Steamboat without visiting Strawberry Park Hot Springs, one of our favorite spots from last year’s excursion. This time, the water channeled in from the stream to cool the spring flow was particularly frigid because it had recently been snow. So, of course, daring ensued. Who could endure that chilled water the longest or plunge beyond its numbing surface the deepest became the subjects of much persuasion and taunting. John was the winner; he didn’t even need goading to dive in. But, with a few exceptions, most of our swimmers eventually gave in to at least a short dunk in the icy sections.

Everyone enjoyed Strawberry Park's warm pools but some of us appreciated its cold currents as well.
Everyone enjoyed Strawberry Park’s warm pools but some of us appreciated its cold currents as well.

The half marathon itself was beautiful. The route went along the Yampa River for mile after gorgeous mile. The downside? The downhills. The steep slopes made my right knee and Jason’s everything rather sore. Whole information on this half will be given in a later race post, not to fret.

The race's scenery was peaceful yet energizing.
The race’s scenery was peaceful yet energizing.
Hiking isn't usually on the agenda after a half marathon but my family is a little crazy.
Hiking isn’t usually on the agenda after a half marathon but my family is a little crazy.

After the half marathon, we still had enough energy to do the short hike to Fish Creek Falls. We walked to Fish Creek Falls during our last visit to Steamboat so we were surprised to find the river much changed. Spring runoff had transformed the creek into a noisy gush of churning whitewater. It was the kind of river that only provides one-way dips.

Fish Creek was a dangerous mass of rushing whitewater.
Fish Creek was a dangerous mass of rushing whitewater.
Kissing frogs can be fun.
Kissing frogs can be fun.

It was a fantastic trip. I have to say, I kind of love my family. They’re the type of people you can spend a long weekend amid without wanting to throttle someone. We played poker around the kitchen table, chatted at restaurants over dinner, and wandered the streets of Steamboat’s downtown. I will fondly recall this voyage in the boat.

My Man, Some Fields, and a Park

What could be better than spreading blankets near a chattering brook and genteelly consuming refined fare with distinguished friends? Why yes, wearing fashionable waistcoats and taking pony rides through tree-lined lanes would make such an occasion even finer.

The company was most agreeable at our moveable feast.
The company was most agreeable at our moveable feast.
Pedestrianism, or competitive walking, was a sport in Regency times. We held a manly walking contest at the picnic. Jason's snobby strides won.
Pedestrianism, or competitive walking, was a sport in Regency times. We held a manly walking contest at the picnic. Jason’s snobby strides won.

Last month, we attended Visions of History’s Regency Picnic at Memory Grove in Salt Lake City. This affair gave us a chance to daintily partake of charcuterie, cheese, and fruit with some of our historic companions while the hum of harp and stream gently aided our digestion. It also afforded opportunities to amuse ourselves with the prettiest equipage.

This pony deserves his nickname, "The Red Rocket." He never seemed to tire no matter how many of us he lugged around.
This pony deserves his nickname, “The Red Rocket.” He never seemed to tire no matter how many of us he lugged around.
The distant skyscrapers belied the historical fiction fashioned by our frocks and cravats.
The distant skyscrapers belied the historical fiction fashioned by our frocks and cravats.
A miniature carriage and steed lend great distinction to an occasion.
A miniature carriage and steed lend great distinction to an occasion.

It was an elegant and pleasing event. Thank you, Visions of History, for planning such a pleasant outing.