Goldilocks

When 600 powerful women converge on one location donning braids and biking shorts you ought to know that they mean business.

About a week ago I biked in a ride called Goldilocks. As its extremely girly name would suggest, this was a women only ride. The participants had the option of going 15, 30, or 60 miles and they were welcome to change their minds on which distance they were doing at any time. This wasn’t a competition; there was no starting times or disqualifications. You just commenced whenever you got the inclination and went at your own pace.

Jenn and I were about to start making tracks. Here we are at the starting line.
Here Jenn and I are at the starting line ready to begin tearing it up.

Even though this was Goldilocks’ first year it was very well organized and the route, which traveled through some lovely farmland, was clearly marked. I think even my scatterbrained brother Drew could have found his way. At the halfway point a beautifully catered lunch awaited the riders. Jason said you could tell this was a girly affair because the table spread at the luncheon looked way to cute to be meant for men. I agree; you men don’t deserve something so adorable.

It doesn't
Talk about girly! Every detail on the tables was feminine right down to the tread on those bike tires, which was in the shape of flowers.

It was fantastic to see so many capable women participating in this event. Groups of sisters, ladies with their mothers, bunches of girlfriends – they were all there and having a great time.

I was hoping to get a posse of my girlfriends to ride Goldilocks with me but for some reason they all seemed intimidated by the miles involved. Only one friend stepped up to the challenge: Jenn Marchbanks. Yeah Jenn! We opted to do 15 miles this year but next year I am aiming for riding at least 30.

Here I am nearing the completion of my journey.
Here I am nearly to the end of my 15 miles.

You men may feel like you completely missed out – you did – but don’t be too glum. Jason and I are going to ride in the Tour de Riverton on July 3rd. It’s a non-competitive 25 mile ride and men are allowed, or tolerated at the very least. So come join us! I guarantee that it won’t be as grueling as you imagine and it will be worth the effort.

From India to the Arctic

One of Jason’s coworkers from India, Prafulla, visited Utah for the first time recently and since he had never seen snow before this trip, and it was a complete novelty to him, we volunteered to take him to Snowbird Resort so he could take a tram ride up the mountain and get an excellent view of all that snow-covered terrain. He was extremely excited but very nervous about this plan.

Prafulla didn’t own a coat or any other winter attire. Why would he? He’s from a region of the world that pretty much never experiences weather colder than 60 degrees Fahrenheit. We got him some loaner gear though and bundled him up so he was ready to make his way up the mountain.

Prafulla had lots of layers on but he still
Prafulla had lots of layers on but he still seemed to think it was intolerably cold.

Jason and I considered the weather pretty pleasant and didn’t even bother zipping up our coats but Prafulla thought it was unbelievably freezing even with the coat, scarf, beanie, gloves, hand warmers, and face gator he was wearing. He immediately became very concerned when his lips and fingers started going a little numb. This was a sensation he had never experienced before and didn’t understand. We explained over and over that it was completely normal but he had a hard time conceptualizing how it could be okay and was quite certain that his extremities would never recover. Eventually he stopped questioning us about it but he continued to move his fingers repetitively within his gloves in a pinching motion because he couldn’t quite shake the fear that they would freeze solid or fall off and thought that this movement would be a good preventative measure. Jason and I had a hard time not laughing and we weren’t entirely successful in stifling our giggles.

Prafulla was awed by the view as the tram climbed up to the peak but he was still nervous about his cold parts and concerned that the tram might not be safe. When we reached the saddle he wasn’t too eager to exit and the frigid wind did nothing to encourage him but we eventually coaxed him off the tram and out onto the gusty slopes to take a look around. He said that being there near the summit, with the wind blowing snow into his eyes, he understood how the people that climb Everest feel. Although I don’t think our little excursion was quite on par with scaling Everest it was a big deal to our friend; it was a once in a lifetime experience for him.

It was snowing and windy at the top of Hidden Peak. Jason didn
It was snowing and windy at the top of Hidden Peak. Jason didn't mind...Prafulla did.

In addition to taking a tram ride we showed Prafulla around the resort a bit. He couldn’t believe that people rode chairlifts up the mountain. He thought they looked entirely too risky and he seemed anxious just glancing at them. We also tried to teach him how to make a snowball. It turns out that it’s a little difficult for those that didn’t grow up playing in snow to comprehend the basics of snowball making. He didn’t understand how to pack the balls so they were more like snowblobs.

Taking Prafulla to Snowbird was nearly as much fun for me and Jason as it was for him. He was wowed and intimidated by what we considered completely ordinary; his reactions to the perfectly commonplace were quite entertaining. Those reactions also reminded me that here in Utah, where we have such extreme and unique environments, we truly do live in nature’s wonderland.

Dance Dance

I love music. I love playing it, listening to it, and dancing to it. Give me a beat or a bow and I am a happy woman. Jason and I used to frequently go Western Swing Dancing before we were married; we were pretty decent at it and could even do a few impressive looking flips. We also took a ballroom dance class right before we got married to help our “first dance” as a couple go a little smoother. Sadly, we have not danced much together since then, partly due to a lack of opportunity and partly due to Jason promptly forgetting everything we learned in our class shortly after we completed it.

Since Jason failed to retain any of the moves from our previous ballroom class the last couple of years I have been requesting that he take another dance class with me. My pestering finally paid off. He agreed to take a class with me through UVU’s continuing education as part of my Christmas present this year but he made the mistake of making me sign us up for the class. And that is how our dance class became our dance classes. Yes, I figured one more class would most likely not kill him…and that was a chance I was willing to take. So we’ve had back to back ballroom and swing classes every week for the last two months. Jason did indeed survive the experience though I think he occasionally bemoaned his fate and had a hard time keeping all the different dances we learned straight. Even I had difficulty remembering what moves went with what dances sometimes because between West Coast Swing, Jitterbug, Cha-Cha, Fox Trot, Waltz, and Nightclub Two step there was plenty of footwork to get confused about.

I always
Jason is dipping me here. This particular move was not one we had to learn in dance class; we perfected it long ago - and I think I've only banged my head on the ground or been dropped a few times while doing it.

We eventually sorted the jumble of dance steps out and we both felt like our classes were a success. Jason even told me one night as we were practicing our moves that he had reached “dancing queen” status. I’m not entirely sure that that’s a good thing but at least he is a fairly confident dancer now. I am determined to keep up the dancing this time so that Jason doesn’t just brain-dump everything he’s learned again. With that in mind we went dancing last Saturday night at the Pleasant Grove Recreation Center. Every Saturday night the rec center has dancing on two floors, one floor for West Coast Swing and Two Step and another for Western Swing. We had a lot of fun bouncing between the floors and swapping dance styles.

If any of you, our buddies, want to groove with us let us know; we will definitely be shaking it up again soon. By the way, it’s only $5 to get into the rec center and, for those of you who feel a little intimidated on the dance floor, free dance classes are offered an hour before the dancing begins every week. So there are no excuses not to sway it up. Hey, if Jason can become a dancing queen then anyone can.