Baby Alpine Style - Hope Lake Trail

Yesterday, Jordi & I marked our 70^th mile of hiking together this Summer.  We did it by doing an 8 mile round-trip hike up to Hope Lake (@ 12,500 ft) here in the San Juan Mountains.  Breathtaking.  J

Jordi has done just fine with the altitude.  He is alert and loves to watch the trees go by from his Baby Bjorn perch.  It’s a good life if you can manage it.  And for me, our daily jaunts into the Uncompahgre National Forest has been good marathon training in disguise.  The New York Marathon is about 15 weeks away.

I do get occasional glares and whispers from fellow hikers on the trail for bringing an infant up into the mountains.  Usually these people are wearing jeans, sneakers, and a beer belly.  For the first 25 miles, I listened to them and started to question my sanity a bit.  What was I doing up here in high-altitude, alone with a 2 month old baby?  There could be rain-storms, and maybe bears and stuff? 

Having just finished our 16^th hike, I am more confident in what I’m doing.  We do get caught in almost daily mountain rain showers, but I just throw an extra water resistant layer over him and he isn’t bothered.   We are out in the crisp mountain air where there is no threat of picking up colds or coughs from people in enclosed spaces.   It’s not much different than what Roger & I would do before baby arrived.

I do think there however that there is a niche market for a ‘light and fast’ mode of baby care.  Most people opt for ‘expedition style’ which is heavy, unpleasant, and you are mad at yourself for lugging all that unused gear to the scenic viewpoint. 

For Jordi, I have used a waterproof lumbar pack which fits my water/food, wind-breaker, baby blanket, and clean diaper.  The lumbar pack nicely distributes the front weight that I carry with Jordi.   The baby blanket works well for sun-screening him. 

We have changed many of diapers (one on the side of a steep 4x4 Jeep Trail), so I just use the Baby Bjorn and my jacket as a changing table.  Eat lunch first, then change diaper, and bring a small bottle of Purell just in case.   Nursing him is as easy as finding a semi-comfortable spot to sit down – it is also a great opportunity to snack, drink water, and admire the view.   

It’s been the best way to bond with the little dude, many hours of snuggle time with him, and me hiking us up the beautiful trails here.

Some pictures from our hikes over the last week (July 18th)   

Hope Lake Trail

Hope Lake Trail - view of Trout Lake

At 12,500 ft, Hope Lake

Nature's Diaper Changing Table

8 mile hike total - 1 mile hike to TH



See Forever Trail - he's not a mtn man yet



The Summer So Far...

Before the weather got unbearably hot, we got the hell out of Texas.  Jordi and I are spending the Summer up here in Colorado and we won’t return until Labor Day.  Happy.   

On our adventure, we have made a few memorable stops along the way.  Dallas, Santa Fe, Denver, Estes Park, and now Telluride.  Dallas to hang with our aunt & uncle, Santa Fe to show Jordi where his parents got married, Denver to visit with best friend Darcy & her beautiful family, Estes Park for a relaxing family reunion, and now Telluride for the rest of July.

Here in Telluride, the biggest decision of the day is which mountain to hike up.  Yesterday morning, we went to Bear Creek Falls for a 5 mile hike, stopped back at the condo to refuel, and then headed back out to hike Ridge Trail.  Evenings are usually spent grabbing a pint across the street at the local brewery and then bedtime when Jordi gets tired.

And today, we are going to get a birds-eye view of the San Juan mountains by hiking up on the See Forever Trail.  Forecast calls for sun, so we are going to take advantage of it. 

I snapped a few pics from our hikes yesterday...

head in the clouds

Bear Creek Falls Hike

Indian Paint Brushes

Jordi, me, & Telluride valley

Ridge Trail Hike

Aspen Grove

Celebracion de Jordi

El Dia de St Jordi

In late April, the Catalans become unabashedly romantic for one day, El Dia de San Jordi.  It is a great holiday that occurs right during the peak of Spring and celebrates the Catalan patron Saint Jordi who slayed the dragon and rescued the pretty girl.  

Tradition says that on the day of Saint Jordi, men give roses to women, and women give books to the men.  While I have never been in Barcelona on the day of Saint Jordi, Roger explains how the streets are bursting with flower & book vendors, all draped in the red and gold colors of the Catalan flag. 

Being married to a Catalan, Roger and I have celebrated April 23^rd together for nine years now.  Wow.  Over the years, it has become like our own personal version of Valentine’s Day here in Austin.  We never talk about the day as it approaches, almost a test to see if we remember the holiday.  Roger surprises with different permutations of roses (last year was a multi-color concoction of Easter eggs colors) and I search for a book that is thoughtful to whatever is going on in our lives (last year, I got Roger a copy of the Federalist Papers because he was finally becoming a US Citizen).

The holiday was extra meaningful this year because we were expecting our own little Saint Jordi.  He was due on the April 23^rd, but being fashionably late just like his own mother, Jordi Isern Lowry arrived a week later on April 30^th.  And while it took 30 hours to coax him out into the world, our half-Catalan- half-American kiddo still managed to arrive just in time for Mother’s Day.  J

Recap: Christmas, New Years, Reyes in Spain

Christmas, New Years, Reyes

Catalunya, Spain, 2012

The Catalan food is a staring attraction of every visit we take home to Spain.  The Osso Bucco that Roger & I cooked for New Year’s eve, the mato cheese with honey & walnuts that we have for dessert, the cava, the torro, the jamon, the grilled lamp-chops with aioli.   Merce’s bacalo with raisins & red-peppers stewed in a clay pot (though I have to admit that I much prefer the monkfish/rape to bacalo).  Bacalo, I can only eat with copious amounts of white wine & salt.  Maybe it is because I ate too many fish-sticks as a kid (bacalo = cod). 

The food market shopping experience itself is  so unique.  These markets purvey fresh & flavorful produce, seafood, cheese, & meat, but with none of the fan-fare and fancy prices that come with say, a similar shopping experience at Whole Foods. 

Our last Saturday in Spain, Merce & I went to do her Saturday morning shopping at the market where she has shopped for twenty years.  From the outside, the market looks quite humble – an enclosed concrete commercial building like you would see in downtown Barcelona.  Inside, are multi-generational kiosks that specialize in either produce, meat, cheese or fish.  All the important produce that you can possibly need.  Of course, the Spanish must have their bread but it is sold separately at the many Forn de Pas around the city.   Merce ordered monkfish, and the fish monger pulled the fresh monkfish right off the ice in front of us, scaled it, and cut it down to size.   At the deli kiosk, the man had a stack of black truffles – just out there, accessible, not under lock & key.  No big deal. 

I am mesmerized by these fresh markets because they are common, they're no big deal, and yet they provide some of the freshest, delicious, & inexpensive ingredients that I have ever seen.  I think this is in a way a metaphor for much of Spain & potentially some of the Catalan people.  It's a country full of beautiful culture & interesting people, but no one brags about it.   Definitely the most understated of the Latin-language countries. 

I didn’t have much time to write while in Barcelona, so I thought I would hit the high points of our trip home over the holidays.  As usual, we split our time between the city of Barcelona & the Pyrenees. 

1.       For a Christmas present from Josep & Merce, Roger & I spent the night in the haunted medieval castle of Cardona.   No ghosts – they are fearful of loud Americans.   It was so cozy & COLD!  The castle was designed for defense, not modern amenities.

2.       We got to spend some good quality time with Blanca, Quico, & the girls.  This is the first year that Quico’ is making wine from his own vineyard.  We spent a day up at Casaponca and walked down the road to the vineyard  to see how it is coming along.   Over the past 7 years, as my Spanish as gotten better, I can understand Quico more & more, so it was wonderful to be able to understand him as he explained the technique for maximizing grape produce from the vines.   And of course, the girls are growing up so fast.  They are tall, smart, & guapa.

3.       We spent a few days in the Costa Brava, which is just as beautiful & inspiring as it was 6 years ago.  The parts of Costa Brava that we saw this time around were:

-          Of course, the tranquil town of Cadaques – a place that you wish you never had to leave.  No trip to Costa Brava is complete without a leisurely lunch at one of the restaurants right on the beach.  I still remember the rabbit dish that I ate with Roger there in 2004.   And the same restaurant is there – hasn’t changed a bit. 

-          The Parque Nacional de Cap de Creus – it’s a gorgeous rocky outpost very near to Salvador Dali’s home of Port Liguat.   I am sure it would be good for strolling & relaxing on the beach, but the wind was blowing so damn hard that we could barely keep our coats on.

4.       New Years in Villiella  which I always look forward to.  The last time we were in Villiella, it was Summer and we were up with Josep, Merce, Dad, & Barb.  Merce foraged for mushrooms & the rest of us hiked up through the footfills behind the town.   This time around it was winter of course, where the days are slower paced, all we do is discuss what to cook, what to listen to on the stereo, or where to hike.

5.       And of course Barcelona, with stops off to see:

•        the finished interior of La Sagrada Familia
•        to finally see the life-sized Blue Paintings at the Joan Miro musuem in Montjuic
•        and finally, to spend a couple of hours, people watching in Parc Guell (Roger’s old playground).  So not FAIR!  All I got was a jungle gym as a childhood playground.  He got a  masterpiece park designed by Gaudi.