Cooking Up a Storm

Had some people over for curry dinner tonight. In order of appearance ... BFF, Minnie, EO, EON, Wonder Woman, Drummer Boy, Hellamormon, BBK, DW, FGITW, Precious and Superman. I love having people over for curry! There's just something magical about the conversation that occurs when people are seated and eating together ... school. injuries, recent travels to Italy, hurricanes Katrina and Rita, therapuetic interventions, the internet, this blog, Johnny 99 and the battle of the bands, unions, global and personal economics, weddings, dating (of course!), etc, etc. We finished the night with plates and plates of fruit ... among them the Kyoho grapes that I remember eating as a child in Japan (the trick is to sqeeze and suck the insides out and avoid the bitter skin).

There are only a few things that I feel really confident about cooking. Curry is my favorite for having friends over. It's so easy, and most of it can be done early so that I'm not feeling sapped by the time company comes. Besides, while it's simmering, I can spend time arranging the table, which I think I might like better than cooking (and, how I do miss Precious' table!). Other things I like to cook ... chicken with shallots and garlic, pork cutlets with pear slices, a variety of soups, Japanese style spinach, burnt butter cupcakes and pumpkin chocolate chip cookies. And, I love to experiment with making different sauces! Generally, whenever Wonder Woman cooks something spectacular, I ask her about it. She'll generally start out by saying, "It's really easy. All you do is a, b, c ... x, y, z, alpha, beta, gamma, etc." The ones that are *truly* easy are the ones I get recipes for and try out on my family. They love me and are generally going to love anything I cook. Someday I'll con WW into teaching my how to make her excellent butterscotch and chocolate puddings.

FGITW stayed around to help do dishes and chat about (our favorite topic) guys we are (and were interested in) dating. Sometimes it's so good to vent. The only thing funnier than venting about guys with one's girlfriends, is venting about guys with one's gay guyfriends. Anyway, the time went quickly by, and soon we were done with all the dishes! A thousand blessing on FGITW's head!

Next week is the Safehouse dinner, another sit-eat-and-converse activity which I love. Another thousand blessings on Ballerina and Kerri for starting them!

The Pony Express (or Trotting on out)

We were all up at 0600. Packed it all up, and were at the ranger station by 0700 to get our stuff packed out, and me on a horse. And we waited ... and waited. At about 0730 a string of horses arrived that had an extra saddled animal. Fletcher was the Indian guide and seemed friendly enough. We watched as he started loading the packs. When he finally told us that he was waiting for a couple other people to drop off their stuff, Scout and I agreed that he and Jo should start the hike out. It was another 30 minutes before Fletcher said that I could mount and go on ahead. So, I got on the horse and headed out. We got about as far as the first or second campsite before the horse just stopped. I tried everything ... kicking, clicking, using my halter ends to spank his butt, but he stayed rooted. In vain, I telepathically told him that it would be so much better to get the ride over with while it was still cool, and he's have that much more time to take it easy in the afternoon; but he was determined not to go without his compadres. So, I turned him around, and he gladly made his way back to the corral. The lady at the ranger station had to call Fletcher out. He ruefully finished packing up the other horses, and we were off.

If there's one thing in the world that's painful, it's to be on a trotting horse. And this is what my horse did for 2 hours ... when he wasn't stopped, that is. Trot trot trot. Ouch ouch ouch. (Note: trotting horses are not good for incontinent grannies either.) We overtook two other riders who joined in with us. And my dorky horse would let the other riders pass us, then decide that he'd rather be in front, and try to regain the lead while on the one-horse-at-a-time trails. Fletcher finally broke off a switch, and told me to, "Hit him like you would your boyfriend!" With that enjoinder, I self-righteously swatted away whenever the horse misbehaved.

We reached Hualapai Hilltop around 1100 ... about 11 minutes after Scout and Jo reached it! My rear and lower back were so sore ... but that's just two more areas on a long list. Anyway, they managed to get a few shots of me on my dork horse before I dismounted.

We caravanned out to Kingman ... funny how easy it is to drive 85mph in the daylight ... and had a final farewell lunch at Arby's, which was surprisingly edible. We also took time to appreciate the flush toilets, faucet water, air-conditioning and paved roads.

After an afternoon of spicy V-8, corn nuts and cold drinks, I finally reached home at 1930. Heavenly to unpack, do laundry, shower, take more advil, douse myself with Bengay, watch the most recent episode of, "So You Think You Can Dance," and fall asleep in my enormously comfy bed. Explorations are great, but so is coming home!

Hiking Downriver ... Mooney and Beaver Falls

Jo and I slept in, at least relative to Scout. We all breakfasted on powerbars and dried fruits and nuts. Left camp around 0800 to hike downriver to Mooney and Beaver Falls.

Mooney isn't actually very far, but when you take into account the trek down to the base, I'm told it's a mile from the camp site. From top to bottom, it's about a 200 foot drop, and it's named after a man who died trying the descent. The trail takes a series of swtichbacks that are carved into the rock. Again, I was so grateful for my poles. The next phase is prefaced by a warning sign that reads, "Descend at own risk. Exercise extreme caution! Do not pass beyond this point in inclement weather conditions." We then descended through two narrow and dark tunnels. The last leg of the "trail" involves scaling down the cliff by grappling with chains, metal stakes, footholds and two wooden ladders.

I reached the bottom with a large sigh of relief ... and a quick intake of breath when I took in the beauty of the spot. It was splendid. Part of the bottom pool had a shallow rocky bar that we waded across to get spectacular views of the falls. The spray from the falls was so powerful that I put my camera in the ziplock, eventhough it was rather inconvenient.

After a brief respite, we were on our way down to Beaver Falls, another 3 miles downriver. We crossed the river two times. I slipped on a muddy bank and drenched myself and my pack. Camera got slightly dampened. Jo took the battery out and put it away, and opened the camera up and put it to dry in a mesh pocket of Scout's pack, and we were on our way. We hiked through fields and fields of vines ... it was like being on a tropical island. Jo hacked at some of the overgrowth and some cacti that grew a little too close to the trail. My legs were constantly being whipped and brushed by the vegetation ... definitely pants would have been a good idea. I did have a rather close shave with a cactus. There weren't many long spikes embedded in my shorts, but there were numerous small ones that I couldn't quite get out, So, I spent the rest of the hike with one leg rolled up. Yes, I was lopsided, but I think it also prevented a lot of chafing, for which I was grateful.

We finally made it to the rope line. This rope is supposed to help one scramble up a 10 foot sheer face and continue hiking. Of course, Scout scrambled up in a matter of seconds. Jo took a bit longer. I, however, had a bad time of it. Again, being shorter, and having less upper body strength really worked against me. Tried multiple times. Even handed up my pack so that I'd have less to drag up. The last time I tried to clear the edge, I fell. Luckily, my hand didn't get caught in one of the loops, but I did bounce off the rock face, and landed in the water, At that point, I knew that I wasn't going to make it up the rope. I was going to wait for the guys, but Scout suggested that I might try swimming around until I met up with another part of the trail, and I decided to try that. It was actually fun to be on my own and try a bit of solo trailing. Besides which, the water was wonderfully refreshing!

After about 20 minutes. Scout appeared behind me. At first I thought that he had reached Beaver and backtracked to find me, but he'd actually felt bad about leaving me alone, so had directed Jo on the trail to take, made his way back to the rope, and jumped in and followed me. We hiked on and finally got to the top of Beaver Falls. Beautiful spot. Scout pointed out a spot where we could jump off into the pool below. I looked at it, and asked if he was crazy! There was no way that I could possibly get out to that point, much less stand, and much even less get enough friction to jump out enough to clear the rocks! I'm sure that Scout could have done it, and had no problem waiting for him, but I knew it wasn't something I was going to do. We ended up just swimming around a little in the shallow pools near the top, the decided to head back and meet Jo back at the rope. Then, I looked at Scout's pack, and asked if my camera was still in it ... and IT WAS! Whoops! Well, we took it out, and I opened it up to dry again. Luckily the water is fresh, and I know not to turn it on, like I did in Hawaii with Janet.

We hiked and swam out way back to the rope. I was doing okay, but that last lagoon was too much. I got two-thirds of the way before I had to get to the side and take a rest. It's no small feat to swim one-handed, much less keeping one hand above water to keep the camera dry! Scout had actually offered to swim up to Jo and get the dry-pack for me, but I'd thought I'd be okay. As it was, Jo swam out to me, and we worked together to get the bag open, camera inserted, and bag closed again.

We ate lunch and lazed by the lagoon. By this time, I'd catalogued my scrapes and bruises. Along with a beaut of a bruise on the back of my right thigh, and several impressive scrapes on my right leg, there was a pretty one on my left wrist ... where my watch came off when I fell off the rope into the water. I kept watching the lagoon whenever the bottom settled, but it wouldn't yield up my timepiece. As Scout said, we'd have to chalk it up as another offering to the Havasupai deities.

By this time, Jo and I were so sore! Did the granny walk for most of the way back. Finally made it back to the rope swing that Scout's so fond of. Both guys did it a few times, with me recording it on Jo's camera for posterity, before I felt like I could try it. Again, the upper body strength was lacking (must remember to work in lat pulls and pull ups!), and I flopped into the water. Maybe flopped isn't the right word. It was rather like doing the breakdance move called the worm. Anyway, my feet went in first, and the rest of me just rolled in after. The end result being that my tight athletic top ended up around my teeth, and I had to readjust before I swam back to shore. And Jo was wondering why I was floundering!

Made our tired way back to the base of Mooney Falls, and started the arduous task of climbing up. Scary and exhilirating!

What a relief to get back to camp and rest our tired bones. Sadly, Jo's blanket had been stolen ... along with his scriptures (which were on top), and his ipod (which was rolled up inside). I generally don't like to think of campers as being dishonest, but I guess it can happen anywhere. We all nursed our blisters (mine were on the medial surfaces of both big toes) and turned in.

Hualapai Hilltop and Entering the Canyon

Woke up at 0530. Need to *relieve* myself so badly, but didn't see any facilities (in all actuality, there were some just around the bed). So, I pulled the car up to the rocky wall along side the road, opened both passenger side doors, and did a Montana Blue Eyes. The place is so dry that the evidence against me disappeared in a matter of seconds ... so tidy!

I re-parked the car closer to the trailhead, and saw Scout almost immediately. He introduced me to his roommate Jo, and we were off at around 0700. In the early morning light, the canyons are quite impressive. They stretch on forever in both directions ... red and white stratified and towering rock. The switchbacks down to the canyon floor were quite steep (about 1.5 miles descending 1000 ft), and I was glad for my hiking poles (along with my unshaven legs, I felt quite European) and the fact that I was riding out! It was also the first time in my life that I've been grateful for my quite ample hips ... it's no small thing to be carrying all one's supplies on one's back, and the hip straps helped my legs (and not back) do most of the work.

Once on the canyon floor, it's a relatively level hike for the next 8.5 miles to the campsite. And so beautiful. The brilliant red rock reached up to the azure sky that was liberally sprinkled with kind clouds that shaded our progress. The foliage was not dusty, but a bright green that seemed to shout out the vibrance of life down here. We were passed by numerous horse trains and some Indian maintenance workers who seemed rather friendly.

We reached the village around 1100, and stopped to relax and write postcards which would be carried out by mule train. When I took my pack off, I felt so light, as if I could fly! We paid our entrance ($22 each) and camping fees ($10/night each), and I arranged to ride out. It's actually cheaper to helicopter out, but they don't operate on Satudays. So, Scout, Jo and I split a pack animal fee and were vastly relieved at not having to carry out the packs ... Huzzah! We also took advantage of the last faucet and flush toilet facilities for the duration of our trip before heading out to the campsites.

We had our first view of the Havasu Falls and fell in love. The name "Havasupai" means "people of the blue-green waters." The water plummets down 100 feet into pools that look like petrified wood ... a milky blue-green color derived from lime and travertine deposits. What a sight to behold! I wanted to throw myself into the water immediately, but restrained myself so that we could set up camp first.

We were able to use the site Scout had used last year, which is on high ground, and next to a sheer rock face. Scout set up camp while Jo and I let our abused bodies settle down. Jo actually fell asleep on a picnic table, so Scout and I took a short walk over to the top of Mooney Falls for a quick look.

We all then backtracked to Havasu Falls and frolicked in the water. Swimming, jumping into pools on the lower falls area, and even swimming to behind the main falls. There, the falls struck the surface with such force that we were rather blinded. Scout and Jo climbed up to a ledge and urged me on. However, not being an athletic guy, but a rather out-of-shape girl, I didn't have the upper body strength to hoist myself up. Maybe it's a good thing that SaB didn't come ... the guys think I'm a wuss, but because there are no other girls to compare with, they think I'm a wuss because I'm a girl, and not because I'm a *wimpy* girl!

Jo wanted to set up to take some pix with his camera, but I was too chilled to wait in the shade, so I climbed back up to the top where it was warm and dry. In a way, we are a good team ... Scout (the fearless leader) packed in the tent and propane stove; Jo (the computer guy turned amateur photographer) packed in his camera, tripod and dry sack; and I (super-nurse) packed in the medical supplies.

Got back to the campsite, and our appetites were definitely w(h)et, although our clothes were mostly dry from the dry, hot winds that were coursing through the canyon. I had mashed potatoes and tuna, but also sampled some of the Mountain House dehydrated dinners that Scout had brought. Such a smart idea! Everything is in a ziplock pouch ... just add 2 cups boiling water, reseal for 5 minutes, and voila! a tasty hot meal.

It was still too hot (and early) to bed down for the night, so Scout and I just talked ... about current happenings, family, etc. This is actually the third year in the row that he's come to Havasupai, and he's determined to make it an annual pilgrimage. Just after Labor Day is perfect ... still warm, but the crowds are much sparser.

Finally our body clocks told us it was time to turn in. Scout and Jo both slept on their air mats on top of the tables, and let me have the small tent. So chivalrous. I lay on my air mat on top of my sleeping bag, and kept turning my cool pack over and over on my forehead trying to con my body into thinking it was cool enough to sleep. Overhead, numerous stars twinkled in the sky ... not brilliant as they were at Lake Arrowhead, but friendly and comforting amid the stark darkness.

Havasupai ... Getting There!

Drove out to Havasupai today. In preparation, I decided to get my oil changed. This was a mistake. It took over 2 hours, and left no time to do some of the other things (like shave my legs and get those Dialogue issues from JoW). Anyway, since SaB wasn't able to come at the last moment, I decided to leave at 1400 and avoid the worst part of the traffic. I was trucking along, about an hour or so out. My left foot was perched on the edge of the dashboard, and I decided that I'd need to get another pedicure sometime after I got back. And then I started to get a niggling feeling at the base of my spine, and realized that I'd left my hiking boots back at my apartment! Crikes! There was nothing to do but turn around and retrieve them. Two hours of my life wasted (besides some rather expensive gas)!

All in all, it took 8.5 hours (an egg salad sandwich, some really salty chips, bottles of water and colas, kettle corn, a gas station chipotle hot dog, and many badly sung solos) to drive the 460 miles to the Hualapai trailhead. There was nothing to see so late at night ... not even any stars. Slept in the car, dreaming of blue-green soothing waters.