Three Carmen's and a lake

Carmen, Carmen and Carmen

It was late Saturday when my phone rang and I heard the familiar "Hey Carmen, it's Carmen" followed by "Carmen wants to do a big hike tomorrow, you interested?" Of course I was in, how could I possibly give up the chance of a three-Carmen hike? BUT exactly how big was this hike? bring a headlamp big was my answer. We were about to embark on an EPIC adventure: destination Sigurd Lake

View of the Ashlu and Squamish Rivers

We bounced along the Squamish back roads to the convergence of the Ashlu and Squamish Rivers where our trail would lead us into the Tantalus Range. The trail made us climb hard; bringing us up its steep spine through the forest into rock slides covered with heather so thick, each foot step became an act of faith.

Carmen finding her way

With a bit of orienteering work...

more Carmen's finding their way

we were rewarded with some spectacular views and even a little bit of blue sky in an otherwise cloudy day.

Mount Ossa and Mount Pelion

At 6 hours in, we agreed that it was time to turn back. A quick map check showed we were at least an hour (and still significant elevation) away from the lake. For a wee moment, I felt as though I was giving up our planned goal, but also knew that turning around was the best thing to do. Pushing deeper now, meant that we would be covering the most difficult parts of the trail after night fall and with some seriously fatigued bodies. We began our trek back and laughed about our 'bambi' legs and random tipping and got back to the truck nearly a dozen hours after we'd set out - exhausted and content.

The lake may have eluded us, but as the old adage says - it is good to have an end to journey towards, but it is the journey that matters, in the end. Good friends and good spirit made the journey perfect and that is indeed the end that mattered.

Magic Muscle Beach

SoCal is one of those places that tales seem to be spun from its endless sunshine and ocean beaches. It's the place of beauty for the beautiful and a coast of wealth for the rich and famous. It is also one of those places that has the potential to be just that - a tall shiny tale, a mythological good time. That is one of the neat things about getting to travel somewhere that has so much hype and lore surrounding it, you finally get to unthread fact from fiction.

Arriving at LAX and picking up the rental car was as unadventurous as you want those two details to be. Armed with a crappy map and an aptitude for getting lost in all the right ways, I knew that it wouldn't be long before I got a sense of the adventures ahead - and I wouldn't be disappointed. Within hours of my arrival I had become a menace to society (damned rental car) on 8 lanes of freeway traffic before heading to the South Bay beaches, but not before tending to important details. My first stop was in Redondo where my bikini line was stripped along with my dignity, followed by a lovely pedicure AND performing minor surgery. All these efforts were then rewarded with a chance meeting of a former pro beach volleyball player, who provided me with a lounge chair, cold beer and good company. I like this place already!

Later that afternoon, I headed up to Santa Monica and found Muscle Beach, which turns out to be not the playground of bodybuilders, showing off their over-developed ass-ets, but rather a kick-ass adult romper room.

All evening (and for the next few days) I hung out with an amazing array of athletes from super bendy yogis, to acrobats and various other circus throw outs and learned and learned until my shoulder gave out and my hands were too sore to even toss around the little juggling balls. I learned to hang upside down from a pole, refined my handstand on the parallel bars, practiced slacklining, learned to kip and to juggle (which I suck at) and best of all, learned to fly on the ultimate fun thing - the traveling rings.

taking a trip down the traveling rings