It is a commonly-acknowledged fact that all the cool kids have birthdays during the summer. Since Jason and I hang with all the cool kids and are super cool ourselves, this time of the year is a little hectic for us but we usually manage to celebrate successfully.
Jason, being a particularly amazing sort of husband, always makes my birthdays more fun than a barrel of manatees. This year, he planned three or four consecutive days of birthday bashing. My pre-birthday activities included a hike to the Lower Falls in Bells Canyon, a spot we had never been before. Although this canyon claims hikers’ lives every year, besides one particularly grueling hill and some wickedly-slick and tilted rocks around the waterfall, it seemed fairly typical to us.
Bells Canyon is just beyond Salt Lake Valley’s mass of civilization.
On my actual birthday, I received “Birthday Breakfast by Jason,” which consisted of French toast panini with grilled bananas that Jason burned just enough to set our smoke alarms off a couple times. He also decorated our kitchen and surprised me with flowers. He did not burn the flowers.
Deaths occur regularly at the falls in Bells Canyon due to slippery stones and rock chutes. So, I sacrificed getting a better picture for staying alive.
During the afternoon, we consumed Indian food and gobbled shaved ice at Bahama Buck’s. This was followed by dinner at my sister’s, after a quick but cooling break at Tibble Fork Reservoir.
Tibble Fork Reservoir is a little too popular for my own good. Finding a quiet place in its shade required some meandering.
We decided to keep gatherings with friends kind of low-keyed this year. So, Jason arranged for a laidback evening of waffles, barbecue, and breakouts for my party. We charmed our way out of a Harry-Potter-themed room at Alcatraz Escape Games with a small collection of our chums. I got to cast a spell; it was awesome!
Have you seen these wizards?
School assignments and trips made coordinating Jason’s birthday offerings a bit difficult for me. I actually had to wrap his presents on his birthday! Nooooooooooo! I avoid last-minute devising more than chard-flavored goat milk but my rushed preparations still provided pretty good results. I cooked Jason cinnamon waffles with a cinnamon cream sauce and a dash of the dark side for breakfast using our Darth Vader waffle iron. We saw Spiderman: Homecoming in the afternoon, which turned out to be our favorite Spiderman film yet, and finished the evening with a meal at Bombay House with my family.
I’ve golfed just enough to almost look like I know what I’m doing.
Since I can never get enough of my fine man, the next day I took Jason out to dinner at Log Haven, one of our favorite spots to feast in the summer. You can’t go wrong with fine food, a fine man, and fresh mountain air.
I don’t know if our swings were good enough for Topgolf. Is there a Middlegolf?
I also arranged for a compact group of friends to join us for a get together at Topgolf in honor of Jason. The driving games and grub were supplied by me and the entertainment was supplied by… everyone. It was a raucous and amusing evening.
Happy birthday to us… and all you other cool summer kids.
These days, you may be as likely to find Jason and me in period attire than in jeans and t-shirts. Somehow, our antiquated appearances seem to be escalating. In June, we attended and assisted with the Edwardian Ball hosted by Old Glory Vintage Dancers.
Jason was the bee’s knees in his linen suit.
We demonstrated dances and guided unsure steppers while dressed in beaded couture and fine white linens. It was an enchanting evening reeling with rock steps and crossover turns.
In the 1920s, women abandoned corsets. Thank goodness!
Incidentally, Jason always looks hotsy-totsy in his 20s menswear. Anytime he wants to skip the t-shirt and go straight for the tweed that’s fine with me.
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.
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 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
The distant skyscrapers belied the historical fiction fashioned by our frocks and cravats.
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.