Tandem Riding(or not) log June 28

Tandem Riding Report June 28.   Today's ride was canceled as the captain took off in a red Mini Cooper and the Stoker took a long nap... Make that two long naps.  Mother Nature has gone totally out of control with her hot flashes.When it gets to be over 100 degrees the blacktop is something like 160 degrees. When I was a little kid we loved the hot weather.  It was fun to find bubbles in the tar and pop them with a stick or a nail.   Mother Nature even let out a few grumbles (thunder) and blown off some steam with some pretty strong winds today. I got up early this morning for a ride on my roadie but when I felt the air temp it was easy to go back to sleep.  Took care of the dogs and horses and got cleaned up for church.  Backed the car out of the garage and out of the corner of my eye I saw something that was not supposed to be there. A horse! My big mare that I had just finished doctoring.  I got the horse back in and thought I was late for church but Fr Luis had trouble with the sound system so I was good.  The reading today concentrated on healing. The woman with the 12 year  hemorrhage had dared to touch Jesus' cloak.  She was poor, a woman and considered unclean due to her illness.  Yet her belief healed her. What faith she had! Jesus felt the power go out of him and turned around to say "Who touched me?"  In the crowd around him he was touched and jostled and bumped alot.  But the power of healing went out to only the one person, the one who believed. Her  admission to Jesus that she had touched his cloak took great courage as this bold action could have brought her death.  Fr Luis reminded us that even with our physical illnesses the greatest thing we need healing from is fear.  Think about it, aren't most of our actions based in fear? Most of are negative emotions are buried in fear.  Why do we get angry, carry anger around with us and not let it go.  Anger is based in fear because we are afraid if someone touches us, or thinks differently than us or influences us we are vulnerable to harm.

Many former Catholics  joke about the Catholic guilt.  I remember having that guilt.  But it wasn't because I was Catholic.  It came from fear. Fear if I didn't behave a certain way the nun was going to whack me with a ruler. That fear lead to many physical symptoms that I help onto in to  adult life.   Fear of telling what I really believed.  Fear that it wasn't OK to accept what I could bear to accept at the time, and let the rest be...Fear of the mystery that was a vengeful GOD and is loving GOD.

After being diagnosed I let it go, the anger, the guilt, the fear.  There were a few rough moments in the process, but  "I" began to emerge.

Fr Luis said "When you walk out of this church today you will be healed of the illness of fear" Jesus feels you reach and touch His cloak.   Because you believe you are healed.


 Deliver us, Lord, from every evil, and grant us peace in our day. In your mercy keep us free from sin and protect us from all anxiety as we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ.
Amen

Tandem Riding Report June 14.

Tandem Riding Report June 14. Yellow Mosquito Eater was needed to eliminate mosquitoes at Sacajawea Park where we camped out at the Bluegrass Festival held there. We spent most of the time riding the tandem back and forth between Sacajawea and Hanford logging 100 miles and adding 14 more on my road bike. Great news arrived on Friday when we learned the new Co motion Periscope Torpedo was in the paint shop getting its green applied. Charlie promptly named it GrePedo (green torpedo) and Nan Little suggested it be called Rappedoe. I think we could call it Repeato for my return to RAGBRAI and ThreePeto  if I should return a third time to ride the famous bicycle tour across Iowa. Note on spelling so we don't get any "pee" comments from Michael Fahning  about this tandem bike.We will see what takes. TWO WEEKS seems so long! But the paint has to dry before I can sit on it!!! Short rides this week and then next weekend a big one planned of 65 miles through the rolling wheat fields of eastern Oregon.

The A Roar A Boring Not for Alice..er...The Roaring Boring Alice...notquite right...Aurora Bores Alice AHG The Northern Lights

JThe night time sky is so fascinating.  I have watched my brother set the timer on his camera to follow the night sky as the earth rotates into morning.  At 9000 feet on Mount Adams I sat outside the tent all night, too amazed at the  twinkling stars and planets  to sleep.  In the Eagle Cap Wilderness I laid on my sleeping bag marveled by the August meteor showers.  In the depths of the Snake River Canyon a gentle slope of cool grass brought relief after a sweltering day on the river and we watched the moving pinpoints of airplanes and satellites and shooting stars as we shared the stories of our lives

Of all the nights I have gazed into the heavens, there is one that stands far above the rest.

                                                             July 8,1991

So many events lead us to this date.  They have  been chronicled in many places.  Let it suffice to say this day changed the lives of Carol and Charlie Clupny forever. 

The phone rang, calling us to another Eastern Oregon town about 2 hours away.  We rushed to gather the needed items and piled them into our car.  This was all new to us, we weren't exactly sure  what we should do.  So we drove.  And as we drove we chose a name for our baby  boy                          Born

                                                         July 5,1991

                                             LOREN MICHAEL CLUPNY

My mom shared a promise with her Cousin just before her death in AUGUST 1990.  I never heard my mom speak like this but this is what she said:  "When I get to heaven I am going to kick some butt and get Carol and Charlie a kid".  

Charlie was in the driver's seat whisking us home to a place that was not prepared for a baby.  We had nothing ..  I started to get anxious thinking "Loren is going to have to sleep in a shoe box (Charlies size 12)  or we will have to pull out a drawer and tuck  him in with socks and t-shirts." (swaddling clothes, manger)  Panic was pushing its way up my throat.  I was truly terrified. But before I could ask "Charlie can we take him back" I saw something out the window.

In the distance I saw strange lights.  Unusual flickering, flaming, weaving, churning lights.  Colors so brilliant and then so fading that it made me wonder if I was imagining them.. I thought it could have been a forest fire.  Yet that did not make sense. The behavior of the lights was unlike any flame I had seen.

Charlie  carefully steered the car through a rest area parking lot full of people who had also witnessed the phenomena from the freeway.

                                                       aurora borealis

The aurora can be seen best magnetic midnight. In northern latitudes, the effect is known as the aurora borealis (or the northern lights), named after the Roman goddess of dawn, Aurora, and the Greek name for the north wind, Boreas, by Galileo in 1619. 

Dawn Wind.  Its rare that the wind blows at dawn.  And when it does it brings us ALIVE..It AWAKENs us in a way that keeps us from falling back to sleep.  It makes the dawn fresh and clean and vivid. Loren Michael Clupny you are a rare and unique man...You sing life, you dance life, and you love more and deeper than life.,  more than we can understand.

That night, July 8 1991 the aurora borealis surounded us in our little car with our three day old baby and escorted us home.
And in the dawn that little baby awakened what was dead inside and we became family.

Loren Michael Clupny    you are Aurora dawn Borealis wind,   Happy 24th anniversary of that night.

The Fathers Day Ride

Father's Day is for BBQs, Hawaiian shirts, straw hats, sandals and an Alaskan Amber. The kids buy their dads ties, handkerchiefs or wallets..  As they get older these gifts turn into baseball caps, BBQ sets, aprons and if the kids are rich, a Traeger.

We attended the Saturday vigil because on Fathers Day we are getting up early for a long ride. Such convenient options for worship in the Catholic Church. We heard from Fr Luis about different kinds of dads. Even when placed into one of Father's suggested categories the kids may not grow up as expected.  I have known kids with less than great Christian dad models who grew into more than great Christian adults.  And there are those who provided a good model but the kids choose other routes.  I know Charlie was thinking about this as we started our atypical Father's Day.  And he was thinking about his dad, too.

We rode out Highland to Feedville to Despain Gulch. We got a hold of Whitney this time.  We stood at the Westerlund Road eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches when we saw the Porter's white pick up coming down the hill, throwing billows of dust to announce our friend's arrival.  Whitney jumped out of the truck and gave us a big Hello!  Just a few years ago, the  Pendleton Round-up Princess Whitney did a magnificent run-in on a beautiful quarter horse. The track at Round -up Stadium was perfectly groomed and watered so that no dust would occlude the vision of the lovely princess in her knee high boots and leather regalia jumping the railing on her horse.  Today's entrance was much different, but met with the same excitement as if we were watching her at the roundup.  We are glad to know Whitney as a friend and colleague and are proud of the all around awesome parent and professional she has become   For many years we  worked  beside her in the holding pen and in more recent times we have admired her from afar with our binoculars from the highest row in the south grandstands. Today she brought her dust and we brought our sweat and chain grease and we made the best time of a few minutes together.

66 miles can get pretty boring from the stokers view . Charlie has a strong broad back that I can't see around. So I was back to entertaining myself by making lists of things I spot  in the ditch.  In the clothing category there were three gloves, unmatched, a  couple of raggedy shirts and one pair of men's whitey tidy unders (gross). I could have started building a car from tires and wheels, a muffler. two hubcaps and a license plate identified as we rode by. The oil for the vehicle could be gleaned from drips left in oil bottles and cans discarded on the roadside.  An oil filter and a beat up air filter were in the ditch but miles apart. If I needed it, a strategically located roll of TP came into view.  This weeks "unusual items thrown out of cars" champions were a yellow rubber duck and an aluminum pan with what looked like the dinner contents still cooking In the dead animal category a large badger was in the oncoming lane and three birds met their demise in the windshields of speeding motorists. An identified carcass was stripped clean by roaming carnivores I am sure.  As for living creatures Charlie's saw the shadow of vultures circling  (a portent of doom?) From my backseat view I watched a big deer bounding through the ripening wheat parallel to us as if challenging a race.  I didn't really see a live person and this may be a figment of my imagination...But there must be an individual who drives this road a lot. I hope he/she is still living.. Perhaps trying to get his courage up for who knows what, he/she drinks pint bottles of whisky. There are dozens of empty pint whiskey bottles on about a two mile stretch of this road

If my friends got together and walked this route to pick garbage I think we would collect a few dump trucks full. After observing 66  miles of litter I wanted to shout out, "Come on people, let's keep the ditches clean so this stoker can write about flowers and mountains and wildlife instead of roadside waste".  Oh yeah, waste, the human kind.  I haven't seen any of THAT kind, but I do see plenty of pee in Gatorade bottles.  "Come on people, we are in the middle of nowhere.  You can stop your car and pee outside here!  There's even toilet paper at mile marker 19."

Charlie has been waiting for me to turn left onto highway 18 ( in my story). The wind hit him head on and we both pedaled with all we had to get up the steep inclines. Then we hunkered down and held on against the gusts, gliding to the bottom of the rolly and up the next polley.  The Cold Springs Grange came into view, a much needed rest stop.  I anticipated sitting on the steps to eat my lunch. Alas, it's someone's home.  We took refuge under a far tree and ate baked potatoes with taco sauce and boiled eggs.   Father and son riders from Pendleton stopped for a chat, also taking a Father's Day ride.  They were the only other cyclists we saw this day.  Next we pedaled Cold Springs Road, past Soreys arena (Whitney's sister) and stopped at Bracher's oasis where we napped on the lawn a refreshed our water supply.

If you readers are growing weary of this story imagine how we felt living it,  Seven or eight miles  miles from the Bracher's we passed the Hamen's, cruised the long steep grade down to highway 730 and pedaled into Hat Rock .  It was 2:57 pm and the store, reportedly open until three was locked up tight.  Charlie, who is ever so good at getting things to happen, found the cook and procured two bottles of much needed Gatorade.  A quick spin to the boat launch bathrooms and back we went to highway 730. Impending storm clouds and sore butts compelled the stoker to order the most direct route home. Diagonal road.  Today the semi truck drivers slowed and gave us  alot of room.. Four wheel drive diesel pickups and rvs pulling boats were less than mindful about the safety margin needed.

Home at last, I took a quick shower, downed my PD meds

Don't Beat your Bike with a Rock.

Don't Beat your Bike with a Rock...

the desired effects may not be obtained

Just a short distance from my house my bike decided to tip over. The poor Bianchi hurt itself into an un-ridable condition.  I, on the other hand, had a nice conversation with the lady in the car my bike was intending to avoid when it fell over. For the first time in my life I beat my bike with a rock trying  to bend the bent up parts back to where they should have been so I could finish the ride home. No such luck.  I should have known that when you take a big rock to your bike it does not make matters any better.  It did make me feel a little better,tho. I cried the obligatory tear of humility. I let one or two slip when I have to walk my bike home because it has been bad.  The bike is repairable and I was not in need of repair (for once)  The husband showed up to pick me up about 100 feet from the house.  I loved his comment "Ya want me to try to fix it so you can finish your ride?" Then he looks it over. "I think it needs to go to the shop" He says.  I didn't tell him that was probably more  due

to my beating it with a big rock than the actual crash.

Tomorrow I am riding in the car!

PWP (person with parkinsons) Goes Hiking

PWP Goes Hiking

PWP (person with parkinsons) Goes Hiking

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I decided we should go on a hike. I am not sure why I chose a hike when I have not even been out walking much. It just seemed the thing to do on such a pretty spring day.And we were on the road to where there might be interesting hiking trails.

Driving to Ellensburg on I-82 to deliver a piece of furniture to niece Kimi we found ourselves distracted by thoughts of the Yakima River Canyon. We turned off at Selah and followed the highway up the canyon. Drift boats and fly fisherfolk swarmed the river and its banks. We pulled into the Umtanum recreational area. I reached for  my trekking poles and lumbered like a lazy bear to the suspension foot bridge crossing the Yakima River and leading to the Umtanum creek trail. It was apparent, immediately, that this was going to be more than a spring stroll...

It was going to be a stupendously challenging, monumentally overwhelming PD obstacle course.   Why would I be so challenged with this gentle climb along a meandering creek.  After all I had been preparing for hiking. My PT (physical therapist) Kimber encouraged  me to pick up my feet when I walk,  The LSVT "BIG" program she administered taught me to overemphasize movements because what I thought were huge steps were really small to  tiny steps. My "PT" (personal trainer) Cindee has been guiding me in building agility   (those crazy frontwards, sideways, backwards, in and out and out and in steps on the ladder) and strength (yes ma'am I can lift weights while walking 22 mph on the treadmill at elevation level 15 with a 50 lb. back pack oh just you wait and see). One would think that I can do anything, 'cuz after all I think I CAN DO ANYTHING.  My body image is of a 105 lb  twenty something softball player, horsewoman, backpacking athlete. Until I look in the  mirror, that is.  My realistic body is well, uh,  me...what I am now...oh you know, I don't need to describe my current appearance.  Just let it suffice to say I look like me.

Back on topic here
I view things differently now as a PWP,  After a few face plants and a broken ankle I cautiously scan the area around me for anything that may impede my travel, or cause me to fall.. My ears are in tune for bicycles coming from behind  if  I am walking and cars from any direction if I am biking. I have even learned some avoidance strategies. Crowds of people cause me anxiety as I may be accidently knocked off balance and create a dominoe effect by knocking other people off balance until we are all trying to help each other up..oh yeah, back on topic...

The first obstacle I encountered  was the  suspension bridge across the Yakima River.  It was fine, well maybe almost fine as my weight did not sway the bridge too much.

 I was balancing ok, gazing down at the rushing waters  passing underneath when VALLOOMP I was thrown off balance. (balance is a challenge for PWP) Charlie had stepped on the bridge and from about 10 paces behind me was making the darn bridge move so that between the two of us there was the most peculiar sway.  My equilibrium could not handle this.  Out came the trekking poles, my legs spread out in my drunken sailor stance and I got a grip on my terror.   "OK Carol",  I said to myself.  "You are NOT going to fall into the river, there are guard rails. Get moving!" Maintaining my balanced stance with my legs spread three feet apart I got across safely.  I am sure I was quite the sight to the fisherfolks tying flies on the other end of the bridge.

From the suspension bridge we walked down a steep embankment, under the railroad tracks and up to a place where there were a choice of trails.  The trail to the left went along the tracks, the trail to the right went up. I should say UP! because it went practically straight up.  The next obstacle...my husband...I hate these lectures that squeak out of his generally kind mouth.  "I hope that's not the trail" I said.  Here it comes.  " Now Carol, what are you going to do in France if that's what the trail looks like and its the only way to go".  Oh those "what if's!  Luckily UP! was not the way to go  and we followed the trail left.

Up the gradual incline of the winding  path.  I was stiff from riding in the truck. My back was killing me.  It was work to pick my feet up over the rocks.  They felt like boulders and then there was POISON OAK.  It was here, and it was there and I had to turn my body this way and that to get around it. These were movements I didn't know I could do anymore.   An unknowing spectator would have wondered if I was doing the "twist" or maybe being attacked by killer bees that had migrated to the Yakima River Valley from South America.  I managed not to brush against a leaf! Charlie either. Danger of infestation  behind us, we continued on.

I asked the all knowing husband the time.  He looked at his phone and replied "1:59".. I did not want to argue that it was 1:37 when we left the K-Mart in Yakima  (where it took 30 minutes for him to purchase 2 bottles of water) And that had to be an hour ago.  PWP can tell the time without a clock. Almost to the minute this girl knows when she needs meds.  It  had to be three o"clock.  We walked on a few more steps and I came across a nice sitting rock.  "I think I will sit here and take my meds, could you check the time again"  "2:59"  Hmm how time flies when you are having fun.  We walked on and I started getting into the swing of things when we came upon the Carol height native grasses. The grasses reached like tentacles wrapping around my trekking poles, jerking  them out of my grip mid step and throwing me off balance.  Self talk again: Ok Carol you can walk without  trekking poles a few feet. Get over it and move on.

I forgot to mention there were some delightful things about this trek. Blue sky above (with vultures circling)  beaver dams, a huge beaver lodge (I almost fell into the creek trying to take pictures of), the sound of song birds (probably carrying bird flu) ...then...

There it was, the next obstacle.  A branch crossed the trail about chest high.  Can't go over it, can't go around it, must go under it.  Another thing this PWP can no longer do is the limbo.  Bending knees as much as I can (cuz this girls back don' bend so much anymore) I made it under and to the other side.
Husband did the same thing.  He didn't look any better getting under that tree than I did!

We took a few wrong turns (no yellow Camino arrows here) and backtracked to find the correct trail up the narrowing canyon.  The final obstacle appeared before us.  The creek needed to be crossed.  I have crossed many creeks in my life (and fallen in a few while doing so).  Today was not a day I wanted to slip off that half submerged log and land on the rocks I was supposed to be jumping three feet distance to reach. My sense of timing played in perfectly.  I checked my phone.  "Oh, its time to turn back if we are going to make Elllensburg by 5." Saved!

I usually beat butt on the downhill. I even had a chance to practice the "Australian Pole Dance" (Yvette) the  downhill use of trekking poles. I sent  Charlie  across the suspension bridge first so I could take some photos (wink wink). No huge sway this time. The hike was ending nicely.

I celebrated this first hike of the year with a delish dinner and a dessert of brownie sundae with extra ice cream.  No obstacles were noted in the consumption of food this night.

We all face obstacles in our paths.  Yours are no different than mine although we may call them by different names. Keep an eye out and an ear open to what's  happening in your home and in your workplace; with your family and with your co-workers.  We cannot avoid obstacles (or guide others around them) without recognizing them first. No one should stumble or fall. Step high, be kind and choose the right path.

An apple, Some Peanut Butter and a Bottle of Water

An Apple, Some Peanut Butter and a Bottle of Water .

Tears.  Months  go by without tears finding their way down my cheeks. Then they come.  Tears sting my eyes as I try to fight them back.  I dam them up until they overwhelm my efforts and spill. Wiping them away with the back of my hand I say "Damn, what are you crying about?"  Its this stupid disease.  And even worse than that its what I have done to my back and how the pain is compounded by this stupid disease. And even worse than that I am crying about it.  I am letting those tears, the ones I cry inside, slip out into the world.  The disease is winning.  It now can be seen by the world.  By my tears, by my noticeable limp, by this weakness on the entire right side of my body, by this tremor that no longer hides itself, by the fact I am crying so much lately, it is winning.

Cindee (yes Cindee my personal  trainer) starts the treadmill and says "Where are you walking today?" " I am on the Tour du Mont Blanc".  Tears well up and creep out.  I keep walking the treadmill trails and then I start talking.  But I can't say the words. I can't say "I am scared shitless about this walk around Mont Blanc". So instead I talk about how I have found a route I know I can do and neither Charlie or I will know any different because its all new. I suck up those tears and attempt to put myself in the place of optimism. The place where all my dreams come true

Cindee keeps me going at the 8 elevation for awhile.  She notices how its become easier for  me over time.  I notice I am walking at only 2 mph.  She notices how quickly my heart rate returns to normal. I want to say what  I am thinking "Its going to take me all day to go 5 frickin' miles." She puts the weights back on the rack "Remember when that was hard for you? Look how much stronger you are".  My thoughts spiral down and down and I want to say "Right. We both know better.  I have these grandiose ideas.  There is no way I am going to complete my trifecta. Not this year, Not ever. Who do I think I am.  I have Parkinsons Disease".

"I have been afraid Cindee.  For some reason I am afraid to  go out by myself."  "Hey you rode your bike here the other day". "That I did, but I am liking that less and less.  I am losing confidence. I need to get walking and there is no one to walk with."

"What are you going to do when you leave here Carol.  Walk or ride?" "Probably walk. I need to walk". "Let me know when you get to the top of the Butte".  Ok, there's the accountability. I am not one that doesn't "show up".  I am not  one who does not follow through.  And I would be quite ashamed if I did not do what I said I  was going to do.  She had me!

Back home from the gym I get my toe socks on, then a pair of  light wool hiking socks.  My hiking pants.. what size are these anyway, they are fitting pretty loose.  OMG these are  men's pants? I had to buy men's sized pants?    A tech shirt, my favorite guide shirt, my famous pink camino (camino yes not flamingo) baseball cap, Boots tied and I am ready for my pack.  To the pack I add a pair of scissors and some leuko tape just in case a hot spot  or heaven forbid a blister needs protection.  Oh, I should bring a snack and some water.

What do I want for a snack?  I pack the perfect things. An apple. I can't eat an apple without being glad about it. We just happened to have some lovely crisp apples so I grabbed one.  What goes good with apples? Working in Joann Pringle's preschool class, (where I developed a love for little kids with disabilities and learned the REAL words to "Bringing home a Baby Bumble Bee")  I developed a taste for her favorite snack, apple and peanut butter  I put a little peanut butter on a WHITE tortilla (because as you remember not even Nutella makes a whole wheat tortilla taste good!) A bottle of water fit nicely in its place on the side of my pack, right where it belongs, where I am used to it. Familiar, even comfortable, the pack goes on. Trekking poles in hand I lumber out the door and off to the Butte. I am not walking even two miles an hour today.  But I am walking.

As I walk I think how horrified my son Luke would be if he  drove by  with friends and one said "Hey isn't that your mom?" We are not used to seeing a middle aged woman marching down the sidewalk with trekking poles, hiking boots and a well worn backpack here in Hermiston. That it would embarrass him makes me smile. Then I imagine a police officer pulling up and questioning me "Ma'am we have had reports of a  possibly intoxicated homeless female weaving across the street.  What's in your backpack,? "No officer I'm not drunk. Its JUST Parkinson's Disease! I am carrying an apple, some peanut butter and some water."   I hope to get to say this sometime because this scenario brings a chuckle.
Then, while climbing the Butte, I see the Cross.  I think "Keep your eye on the Cross.  No one ever stumbles when their eye is on the Cross"  Just then I trip and fall to my knees.  Oh my that leads to a need for introspection!.
Well, when one falls down one must get up but I am having a hard time because now I am laughing hard.  I have many memories of falling and laughing so hard I could not get  up.

My day has become brighter.  Forgetting to eat my snack, I get to the Cross on the Butte, down and back home without any of the above situations actually occurring, except the falling of course.
I plunk myself in the recliner, take off my boots, finally eat my snack and take a nap.

Do you ever, like me, make life so complicated that it makes you cry.  You spiral downwards in frustration, worry, fear?

 Then its time to take the challenge.  Pack up a snack, take a walk and look to the Cross.

Smile. Laugh when you fall. Get up and when you are home, take a little nap. You'll feel better. Its that simple. I promise.

All is well, with my soul, all is well.