My Adventures From The Ledge

So as I return to the East Coast and once again find myself surrounded by familiar and comforting things, that I now turn back to think about all that I've accomplished.

I set out to have real adventures from the ledge of the Grand Canyon and to do things that pushed me mentally, physically and emotionally to the breaking point. I wanted to know that I had done something so unlike myself that no one would ever again look at me and say things like, "You could never do that," or "You hate the outdoors/hiking/bugs." I was just getting so sick of people telling me what I could do, what I liked, what I would hate. All through my life it's true, I've been scared of most things, but I was ready to change the way people defined me--I wanted to be seen for my strengths rather than my fears.

And so I was stalked down Hermit Canyon by a mountain lion while I was alone and without radio contact. I climbed a mountain and had lunch at the summit, 9,300 feet up.

More than anything, however, was learning that the ledges I was attempting to walk were more than just physical. Sure, sometimes my adventures came from the real-life ledge of the Grand Canyon, but more often than not the ledges I faced were just that in my mind. It was the brink of knowing what I was capable of and the abyss of what could happen.

So to say because I am no longer faced with a physical ledge my adventures have come to an end is absurd. The one lesson I have learned in my four months in the backcountry is that my adventures will never stop because I will always be facing my own ledges. And where there's a ledge, there's sure to be an adventure.

And it's with that I close my Grand Canyon chapter and look ahead to the next mountain to climb, ridge to hike, or river to ford. All my adventures will be continuously posted here... more to come: the Appalachian Trail, trips to State College, and EUROPE!

Never a Dull Moment

Usually my morning hikes are relatively uneventful. I hike down, see some wildlife, hike out. Especially now they've become all too similar because I can only get to one trailhead due to the repavement hell this park currently is.

So, it was with expecting all the same down Bright Angel Trail that I decided to set a PR and get up the trail in under an hour (I did it today in 40 minutes. 1.6 miles, 1131 feet in 40 minutes).



^This is The Shnoz aka the second tunnel on BA.

All was going according to plan until I got down to 1.5 mile rest house and saw there was already someone up in my lofted retreat. It took me a few minutes to realize that it was search and rescue--in the middle of a search and rescue. I think what clued me in was seeing this:



The chopper circled a few times before landing on this tiny ten-by-eight ledge off the side of the trail. Truly, an amazing thing to witness.



Turns out a young-ish guy was pushing too hard and ended up throwing up all over the place. I thought it was unusual for a rescue to be happening at 8am in late September--especially one apparently brought on by dehydration and overexertion. That's more of a summer thing here.

The paramedic walked the guy and his dad down to the helicopter where the other EMTs checked him out. I actually was almost hiked out by the time it took off.

I don't think I will ever forget the sight of the chopper sitting on the side of the cliff as I climbed out. The sun at the time was just streaking through the high canyon walls and the helicopter was the only thing it was illuminating. It was just impossible to get a picture because if there's one thing I've learned here it's that there are some things you can only really see with your own eyes--a camera will never be able to capture it.

Back From Hiatus

So where have all my adventures been lately? In the office, mostly. Staring at a computer doing exactly the thing I did not want to do: office work. So I decided to get the hell out and do something I've been thinking about doing since I got to Flagstaff the first day back in June: climb that huge mountain on the horizon.




I went down to Flag to climb Mount Elden--close to a 2,500 foot hike up the back side of a San Francisco Peak. If you think the air is already thin at 7,000 feet, try climbing up to 9,300 feet.









As I climbed higher, I could feel the air change. The sun was way more intense, but it was colder up higher, so it was actually kind of a pleasant situation. There was some tree cover, some open air, but the parts where I was climbing nearly vertically up rocks and tree roots was in full force of the blazing sun from about 8000-9000 feet.











At the very top-- 9,300 feet up-- there was a radio fire watch tower (to spot wildfires). So I sat down next to it and had lunch. It was a very strange feeling to be so high up and not be in an airplane. I could see all the way down past the mountains to the desert that lurks past the San Fran peaks.



Here I'm standing at the highest point on Mount Elden, and these other two hikers and I had the mountain top to ourselves. I was in awe of the view, right up until I realized that I had to now descend that same steep, rocky 2,500 feet.



And I kept seeing these weird little lizard things... like little Goomba babies from Super Mario or something. They were everywhere (and quite frankly, a little creepy).

How You Know I've Been In This Office Too Long

So in case you all were wondering what happens to the afflicted area of sun poisoning weeks after the peeling occurs. Well, it's much like having chickenpox. My back is bumpy and itchy and drives me crazy on a daily basis. This is no ordinary burn, so naturally, this would be no ordinary recovery. I'm starting to worry that maybe this isn't normal and I should get to a doctor, ASAP. Which would be fine if there was a doctor to be seen.

I think I've finally come to the conclusion today that I belong on the East Coast. Of all the places I've lived, I have never fit in like I do out there. Jeans and a sweatshirt (aka a "Hoodie") as fashion? Yes, please. Sledding/slip-n-slide made of walmart tarps down your backyard? Awesome. I miss fighting with people about Soda vs Pop, and Sprinkles vs Jimmies. Telling all the bad drivers to go back to Jersey.

And today as I walking walking back to work, instead of this sparse woodland area, I found myself wishing for the thick, green flora of central Pennsylvania. Of course, soon all the leaves will be changing color. I can still remember crunching through the reds and oranges on my way to a game at Beaver Stadium. There was always that sick sense of satisfaction of kicking through large piles of discarded leaves.

Adventures In Standardized Testing

Lets begin with a simple problem: Eleven years ago, Janet was half as old as Bobby will be in 4 years. If Bobby is b years old now, how old is Janet in terms of b?

Does this question make your head hurt? Because this is one of the easy ones. This is the type of problem you find on the GRE, which I just took yesterday. Since deciding to take the GREs, my brain has been in its own internal upheaval, battling itself between "you have no idea how to do this" and "study harder!" I still to this moment feel as if I know absolutely nothing and couldn't retain new information if I tried.

They say there's no way to cram for the GREs, because it's all knowledge you need to absorb over a long period of time. I beg to differ. You could memorize properties and definitions, but all that doesn't help when the question itself is ambiguous! I memorized 300 new words that the Princeton Review told me would be on the test. How many were on there? Five. It was good I knew them, but the context it was in (read: analogies) was confusing! See, the GRE likes to trick you. There are always two or three correct answers to a verbal question, but one is just a little more correct than the others.

I'm so glad I was the only one in the room, especially during the math section. I was so frustrated with the damn geometry 5-step problems I just wanted to get up and leave. So I settled for many strings of curse words and throwing my hands in the air with exasperated surrender.

I did ok. Better than average, less than Ivy League. I sent my scores to Yale because I'm really curious to see if I could get in. I have it down to a few schools: Boston U, Tufts, Johns Hopkins (dream on, Canyon Girl...) and Iowa. Yes, yes I know: I went to Penn State and Iowa is my sworn enemy. How could I abandon all that means anything to me and go there?! Well, because they have a good program.

The next adventure? Filling out the SOPHAS application! Tufts is the only school I have to apply to directly. And I still have no idea where I really want to go or if I should apply for Spring or Fall. Spring deadlines are rapidly approaching, (mid-October), and I don't know if I'd have a better chance of getting in if I waited until the fall. So many questions, so little answers. My friend Kelly said this to me the other day, and it's very true: "You have all these resources for applying to undergrad, but there don't seem to be as many for graduate school."

I think this is a secret test to make it to grad school: You have to do everything independently. I'm still in shock I actually was able to study and take the GREs on my own free will. This is why grad school is harder: because it's something you have to not only desperately want, but have the determination to do.

Everything's [Better] in Texas

Escaping the canyon (and Arizona) for Texas was a huge shock--and very much like a homecoming. You'd have to understand my family dynamics: most of my "relatives" aren't blood-related, they're my dad's high school & college friends. So going back to San Antonio and family was most definitely a welcome relief!

I flew from Flagstaff to Phoenix on the tiniest, dual-prop death trap (Dash 8) that couldn't seem to stay in the air. When I get nervous, which I often do flying, I grab the armrests. Which would be fine except when the plane drops a few hundred feet and your hands fly up, the armrests go with you. All in all not the most reassuring experience. I think I was hyperventilating the whole time.

But the flight was well worth it. In San Antonio, the party had already begun for the wedding weekend. There are very few people left in this world with that old-style Italian hospitality, but this family is truly one of them. I don't think I've ever been fed so well in my life (sorry, mom).

The weekend was a blur of good food (I think I gained 10 lbs this weekend), old friends, dancing, and tears. The wedding itself was outside in the grass, with rose petals lining the way from clubhouse to patio. It was like a wedding you'd see in a movie, not real life, with someone singing the wedding party down the aisle and the sun setting in the background.

I also found myself in a special little cult of Penn Staters. I think I ran into someone from every year from Penn State since my dad was there back in the day... Even someone who graduated two years before me from the College of Comm. It was like knowing the secret handshake or just having the right background, "You went to Penn State?! Well, come over here and talk to us then!"

I didn't get the most amazing pictures because I was so distracted by everything going on, but here are some of them:


The brunch the day before the wedding was at the neighborhood clubhouse--and it was all Texas-themed. I find most things in Texas are Texas-themed, and being Texan (partially) myself, I thought it was best Texas brunch I'd ever been to.


Check out this pool!



Saturday night's dinner was held in downtown San Antonio at Casa Rio--Ironically, where dad and I went during the Alamobowl the last time we were in San Antonio. I didn't get any other good pics of the Riverwalk because it was too dark and crowded by the time we made our way down there after dinner.



Now I want to say that normally I don't put up pictures of people I know, but I had to share these of the actual wedding ceremony:









And then it was party time!



I was sad to leave Texas, but like always, I knew it wouldn't be long before I was drawn back to my lone-star state.

Wake Me Up When September Ends

My brain is already in check-out mode... I'm going to a wedding in San Antonio this weekend and I couldn't be happier to get away for a while. Especially when there's a party to be had and an open bar. I've spent the last couple of days bouncing between the canyon and Flagstaff working on getting everything I need.

Also, I find the Flagstaff Public Library the ideal place to study for my GREs (Sept 13th). I think I spend more time in the library studying now than I did the whole of college! It's funny how that happens. But I find the library comforting. It's quiet, well-lit, full of people and it smells like books. All in all, my kind of place.

The office here has been empty the past week and I haven't really seen anyone, aside from my old roommate who had to finish cleaning out her room. She scrubbed her toilet, then we went to El Tovar to get a drink. There's not much to do here that isn't hiking or drinking. Or reading, it would seem. The one perk to being in the boonies is that I go through books like I go through jars of peanut butter, boxes of girl scout cookies, or chocolate cake. I remember in school I always wanted more time to read, for fun that is. I finally have it.

And not having cable or internet helps, because I've finally been able to disconnect from this tech-obsession that keeps a hold on most Americans. I don't constantly check email or facebook, and I actually can unplug and go to sleep at night (unlike college where I would stay up til 4 watching netflix). Even though I'm bored out of my mind here, cable is a crutch. I would never leave my house or do anything if I had the option of watching Bridezilla marathons.

There's not much going in terms of canyon adventures lately. I can't hike because I can't put weight on my back yet (the friction might do damage to the newly formed skin), so I've been having indoor adventures: cleaning my house, doing my laundry, cooking dinner.