When you don’t want someone around, you tell them to “Go and take a hike.” When there’s little else to do, as was the case yesterday, it’s exactly what we did. Some people love to hike. I’m one of those that questions its purpose. I suppose you could say it’s an opportunity to go where no one else has gone before or at least “the road less traveled.” Others might claim it’s great exercise, communing with nature. I find it boring.
We took the Sperry Trail at Glacier National Park yesterday with hopes of at least getting to Fish Lake. The 6.2 mile route to Sperry Chalet was just too far. It was built in 1913 by Great Northern Railway people – who else would have the funds or building access at 6,500 feet (the same altitude as Logan’s Pass at the Continental Divide). It’s of course closed now due to Covid -19. Given the opportunity, only true adventurers would want to pay the price for a night of no heat, lights, or water after the strenuous backwoods hike. It took us 45 minutes to go the first mile straight-up (about 1,000 feet of elevation), dodging road apples and rocks along the way. It was just starting to level off when we started back after seeing only a babbling brook, one deer, and 6 donkeys carrying supplies. Also, hiking with a mask just doesn’t seem right.
It was a good exercise supplement to my 3.1 mile morning run. We followed it up with a picnic on the banks of Lake McDonald, a welcome break to rest our aching knees. It was a relief to get back to our air-conditioned hotel and soak in a hot bath. Dinner was in Whitefish about 10-miles away. My wife strolled through the western-themed downtown area at the base of Big Mountain, home of the “Hellroaring” Whitefish Ski Resort. The town of less than 7,000 residents was the boyhood home of Phil Jackson of NBA fame. The step-back-in-time Whitefish Lake Country Club was our dining choice, although nowhere near the lake. After a couple martinis, walleye, prime rib, chocolate tart, and a Pepcid chaser, we were feeling no pain.
We’ll do it all again in our last full day at Glacier National Park. It looks like another beautiful, top-down day, with little to do but another hike and picnic. Everything is closed in the park – even many of the trash cans are locked. We’ll top off the evening with another great dinner in downtown Whitefish. Sadly, we’ve yet to see the stars come out. It stays light outside until past 11 p.m. and the sun rises at 6. We would love to see a dark Big Sky, but haven’t made it yet. Too much fresh air, exercise, and alcohol to stay up late for stargazing. Maybe we’ll take a midnight hike tonight?
This morning’s run in Columbia Falls, Montana was at 3,000 feet. It was tough going with little bounce to my step. In fact, I tripped over a root on a tree-lined asphalt pathway and fell on my side opposite the cell phone pocket, otherwise I might have broken something – probably the phone. After the traditional 3.1 miles I was ready to sit down and write. We now have all the modern conveniences, including internet and phone services. The air conditioning feels great and there are two TVs in our Cedar Creek Inn suite. We’re here for two more nights before heading back to Spokane
Yesterday, we tackled the 30-mile Going to the Sun road. My annual National Parks pass enabled us to skip the entry line and there was surprisingly little traffic on the mountain. From what I had read, I was expecting a major back-up and a slow funeral procession up to the top. Instead, it was smooth sailing up to Logan’s Pass. It was also not as intimidating as I had been told with at least a short rock wall separating us from the bottomless drop. The only hassle was when we got to the lot of the visitor’s center on top where everyone was trying to find a parking spot. Plus, the trail to Hidden Lake was closed because apparently a tourist had twisted an ankle and needed to be carried out. In the patches of snow above we could see a couple of bears frolicking and some big horn sheep.
Today, we’ll stop by a nearby deli and pick up some picnic goods. There were several trail heads near Lake McDonald that deserve some exploration. I can’t put it off any longer – it’s time to commune with nature and build-up an appetite on a dusty path through the pine trees. Maybe we’ll see a moose?
HELP – we are in the wilderness – no phone service and limited internet. The Izaak Walton Inn is an old railroad depot with trains running by at all hours. Also, no TV in our room and a double bed, firsts for me in decades. It’s not a cool as I thought here in the mountains either, so a marginal air conditioning system made for a sticky, restless night. We even had to make a special request for a hair dryer. This morning was the first time I’ve ever run in Montana, day #4,230 of “The Streak,” after 3.1 miles at altitude. Sadly, I couldn’t even pick-up a radio signal. All in all, It was rustic lodging at almost the same price as our 1,000 sq. ft. luxury suite the night before.
The last few times I’ve been in the state was for skiing. That was over 25-years ago, so internet service and cellular phones were not a factor. I flew into Bozeman and took a shuttle to Big Sky Resort. With this in mind, yesterday was my first time behind the wheel on Montana roads. We came in from Spokane, with an Idaho Cracker Barrel stop along the winding way. The route was hilly and green, with numerous lakes and streams. We next hit a flat stretch of wheat fields before the anticipated Glacier pine forests. The temperature was still a surprising 89 degrees when we arrived in early evening.
Dinner on the hotel patio was pricey for frozen trout, but we did get to taste huckleberry cobbler before heading back to Unit #1 that opened with an old-fashioned key on a plastic fob. It reminded me of a Holiday Inn back in the 1960s – long before electronic locks and key cards. We should have been staying at the Prince Albert Inn but weren’t allowed to cross the Canadian border because of Coronavirus concerns. Today, we’re off to drive the Going to the Sun road and hopefully find a better hotel tonight near Whitefish. We’ll be ready for a good night’s rest and some modern conveniences.
This morning’s run was cent-less, not a penny to be found. On the positive side, there was no pain and no rain, earning me day #4,208 on my endless journey. A week ago, I thought my legs were wearing down with symptoms of a stress fracture or shin splints. There’s been no need for ice these past few days. I may also shed the knee brace and compression socks to see what happens. It’s the challenge of this run that separates my otherwise routine days.
Yesterday, was just plain boring. I woke up with a bit of a Fourth of July hangover after a depressing holiday. The stress of the upcoming move is weighing on me even though it’s still nine months away. We’re in a holding pattern for a few months until we can move forward with building. It’s all a matter of timing the end of our apartment lease here with the construction project in Florida. Money will be tight through the rest of the year, waiting for my wife to start taking Social Security. Most of our upcoming travel is already pre-paid so we won’t be stuck at home. In fact, over the next two months, we’ll drive through twelve different states from Montana into Florida via California. It will be the longest road trip of our lives together, nearly 3,800 highway miles.
Starting in September, we’ll fly back the 2600 miles from Florida, followed by round-trip air to Egypt of 14,000 miles, 500 miles on the Nile River, and finish the year with 5,200 miles round-trip to Kauai. It will take a lot of cents to do this 26.2 thousand-mile marathon. Naturally, it all depends on the Coronavirus that has already taken away our trip to Bali and a side-excursion into Canada. There could be more casualties, but thankfully there haven’t been any that are health-related. Please know that I would gladly give up all these adventures if it would keep everyone safe. We’ve been lucky so far that it hasn’t hit close to home, even though we don’t always practice good sense.
Does this all make cents?
I went penniless on this morning’s run with moments of gratitude that I’m able to do this every single morning without fail. I’m suffering from what I think is a stress fracture or possibly shin splints on top of my left foot and have switched to the other side of the road crown to relieve some of the impact. Ice before and after seems to help, while the fresh air revives my spirits. It’s tough being stuck inside all day, so the forty-five minute stretch of exercise is essential to my mental health. I’m fortunate that my foot injury is not getting any worse. Aging leads to lots of new aches and pains, and hopefully this too shall pass.
My wife and I finally finished House of Cards and have moved on to Yellowstone. It’s my second time to watch the Kevin Costner production, but wanted a refresher on the first two seasons before investing in the third. It’s good that we find something to watch together every evening since the rest of the day we’re often on different paths. I have finished my A Killer novel at 80,000 words and will hopefully find a couple volunteer readers before I do any more refining. This has kept me from going insane from the pandemic isolation, but has also exposed a degree of hidden personal insanity through the characters.
Speaking of insanity, I heard an alarming story on the radio this morning. There are rumors of COVID-19 parties down in Alabama. It’s the modern version of Russian Roulette, with the virus substituted for a gun. To play, you invite a group of friends over to your house, along with people who have tested positive. There’s a cash reward for anyone who catches it! “I wanna party with you,” if you’ve ever seen the movie Stripes? These folks are just as insane as I am, trying to maintain a silly personal streak that’s been part of my life for the last 11 1/2 years.
From another perspective, Albert Einstein defined insanity as “doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” Some people might say that if your foot hurts, why not rest it for a few days and allow it too heal. Why expect it to heal by repeating the same action that caused it? Granted, running with pain is insane, but I would counter by saying that not running just might drive me crazy. I wouldn’t expect anyone to understand why 4,204 consecutive days is important to me. Maybe insanity all starts with running every day?
This morning I reached the 4,200 consecutive day mark of my 11 1/2 year running streak. It’s daunting to think that it will take another 2-years and 2-months to reach 5,000. On September 6, 2022, 10 days after my 71st birthday, I will get there. When I look at the current active list on the runeverday.com website, 147 people have already achieved that mark. I stopped to pick-up a dirty dime in celebration, a coin I had passed many times this week. Not a day has gone by of late when I haven’t found at least a few pennies abandoned on the streets. My new rule is that if they’re still there after a few days, I’m going to give them a home.
This is actually an indication that I’m getting a little more comfortable with the germs around me. There was a time when I wouldn’t have thought twice about picking up a homeless penny. However, after months now of hand scrubbing, social distancing, mask wearing, and passing by dirty money, I’ve loosened my standards on abandoned coins, especially if they’re silver. The dime qualified! I brought it home, sanitized its surface, and deposited it in the coin jar for a rainy day. I know this is living dangerously, but a game worth playing. If I had a put a dime in the jar for every run so far, I’d be $420 richer. Even a penny a day would be a $42 bonus. Pennies may still not be worth the germ risk, even if you consider them to be a wink from an angel. (See Post #183).
As I look forward to the next 800 days, it’s really one day at a time. There’s 26 days until we drive to Walla-Walla and into Glacier National Park. We decided not to risk the now inaccessible Canadian border in favor of a U.S. hotel. It’s another 37 days until we start our trek to Florida. Add 41 more days and we’ll be in Egypt, tack-on 60 for Hawaii, and suddenly the year is over. The new year will start in Florida, with a side-trip for my wife to St. Kitts, followed with our move and a journey to Spain. It will take a lot of dimes to get all of this done. One thin dime at a time!
A few days ago, I had an “Ear Worm,” a song that I couldn’t get out of my head – probably best described in a poem that I once wrote. (See Post #607). It’s still in there – I know – but I don’t remember what it was, so I’ve been anxious for it to come on the radio again. I find it funny that something that kept replaying in my mind is suddenly forgotten. Maybe my worm got stuck in the bottom of a bottle of tequila?
I’ve had a very good running attitude these past few weeks. I’m approaching the 11 1/2 year mark of “The Streak,” and will soon pass the 4,200 day mark. A month ago, I was struggling with concrete body parts (See Post #1294). My feet, thighs, and legs felt heavy, while every step was cumbersome. Lately, I’ve been in a much better rhythm, so my daily journeys have been much more pleasurable. As I was trying to get out of this former funk, I changed shoes, surfaces, knee support, medication, and added compression gear. One or more of these adjustments has worked. I’m feeling better than I have in some time.
I did get my hair cut yesterday, and my weight is down thanks to my wife’s modified Weight Watchers program. The loss of all those heavy curls also probably helped. (See Post #1362). It was another unusual experience in these viral times. Face masks, thermometers, appointments, waiting outside, keeping distance, and sterilization make conducting business awkward. Today, I’m headed to the hospital for some tests. This will also be an uncomfortable, stressful situation.
Mandatory mask wearing went into state-wide effect today. I will respect the indoor rules, but I won’t wear a mask when I run or take the dog out. I feel like I can keep enough distance from other pedestrians even though many will consider my actions to be irresponsible and selfish. I still can’t imagine working out in a gym with a face mask. Deep breaths are what exercise is all about. I’m glad that jogging, or slogging in my case, is primarily an outside activity and that I can outrun the virus. I go faster when I imagine it chasing me. Just kidding! Who is that masked man?
The running streak now stands at 4,188 consecutive days, with little other activity throughout the week. I’m now finding that masks are now the most common litter found on the street. There are also more and more boarded up business fronts. These are signs of the times. We’re currently in self-quarantine after a week of travel and once our dog Tally spends time at the groomer this afternoon, I’ll be the only shaggy dog left in the family. Long hair with touches of gray – another sign of the times.
We continue to watch House of Cards, having now surpassed the episodes we saw years ago. The two of us really miss our movie matinees and dining out. Trips to the grocery stores are my wife’s main source of entertainment. She has a birthday coming up in a few days, but it will not be the scope of past celebrations. Flowers are on order and a gift is in the mail. She wants to go to Nonna Emelia for Italian comfort food, a very conservative choice for her. A lot of money has been saved these past few months after cancelling trips, using points, and being limited to carry-out food options – all signs of the times.
Through the end of this month we’ll try to stay at home as much as possible, with respect to limiting any exposure to others. I can still easily keep my distance while running and airing Tally. The next travel plan is 39 days away – the next flight about 80 days off. It could all change quickly with the times, but it’s good to have something more than Netflix to look forward to in the future. Uncertainty continues to be the biggest sign of the times.
I’ve reached another blogging milestone- Post #1150 on day #4183 of the running streak. All these numbers are my way of keeping track of the quickly passing days of my life. This past week has gone particularly fast with all our hard work in finding a permanent retirement resting spot. The location represents the final leg of our lives that in some ways have gone full-circle. We will live within ten minutes from my son. This hasn’t hasn’t happened in about 45 years when he was still living in my house. He tried to originally escape from me during college but here were are in Florida just miles apart, starting in March of next year. Coincidentally, I will be living just miles from where my grandparents retired in Englewood, and going to the same beaches I did as a child.
To celebrate, I played golf this afternoon with my son and grandson on what was essentially a Par-3 cow pasture but certainly good enough for my skills. There were no cow pies to dodge. My wife gladly went to the beach just a few miles from where we settled on soon building our retirement home. My two granddaughters and their mother joined us for fun in the hotel pool yesterday afternoon. Before this we had only enough time for a couple of evening meals with them as we combed resort-style properties from north of Tampa to Venice. We’re flying in and out of Orlando so we’ve gotten a good cross-section of the Sunshine State with barely time enough for fast-food breakfast or lunch. In all, we visited twelve different communities. Each night we discussed the pros and cons without that “this is it” feeling. In the back of our minds, we were holding out for the last stop, believing on paper that it might be the best fit. It could have also turned out to be a big disappointment, forcing us return in a few months with a new plan.
After debating proximity to airport, closeness to family, home styles, builders, near-by food options, lot locations, availability, construction timetables, and beach access, we think we’ve found our pot of gold. It’s a beautiful property with landscaped paths over Venetian-style bridges. Our lot would back up to a small pond with no other homes in the sight path. No one will be able to build in the preserve across the street and our private road ends in a cul-de-sac. Three blocks away they are building a direct access road to the nearby beaches. However, what really sold me is the Atlanta Braves Spring Training facility just outside our gates. We’ll be able to operate with one car and a golf cart, with easy access to the supermarket, restaurants, clubhouse, pools, recreation centers, dog park, and ball park. There’s something for each of us to the point that we never needed to discuss it before saying “yes.” Hopefully, we can get through the financing and building processes without too many hassles. It will truly be a year-round vacation home – the pot of gold we’re sure we’ve found!
In this brutal Florida heat and humidity, I now have two reasons to stay away from people. First, is the possibility of spreading the virus. A mask certainly aids in prevention, plus helps contain bad breath. I haven’t been close enough to smell garlic on anyone in months. My wife and I stay away from it even at the risk of vampires. Some people just reek of it! The second reason for keeping my distance is the threat of my own body odor after sweating profusely. I would not want to expose anyone to that unpleasantness. I’ve come back to my room every morning after running absolutely soaked from perspiration. It then takes days to dry properly. I will probably need three outfits tomorrow if we play golf.
We got only about 5 minutes to enjoy the beach yesterday between tours of housing communities. It’s odd to be in Florida and not have time for beach play. We grabbed lunch between meetings and only had time to check-in to our hotel room before rushing to dinner. It was by far the most active day I’ve had since retiring over three years ago. The beach excursion was actually part of our research to see exactly how far it might be from house to beach. It took about 8 minutes. Proximity to the sand is one of the most important factors in selecting our community.
We do not necessarily want to live on the ocean because comfortable square footage for everyday living is not affordable. Our goal is travel and we can’t do both on our life-savings. The Marriott Vacation Club ownership will allow us to stay directly on a fabulous beach anytime we want. All the resort-style communities we are looking at will be affordable enough for us to have a private pool and easy access to a recreation center. They are also in areas not nearly as isolated from restaurants, movie theaters, and retailers as the beach. We may have to dip into our savings a bit deeper than we originally hoped, but at least we’ll have a solid investment to show for it. By tomorrow, we should have a decision on where we’ll spend the rest of our lives.
