Jump!!

Since the whole family was together, we decided a hike was exactly what the doctor ordered. The choice hike was Terrace Pond, a little gem in northern New Jersey. Left by an ice age glacier, Terrace Pond is an alkaline wonder with crystal clear water, and it is surrounded by granite boulders. Not good enough for climbing, some of the rock does make for a great 20’ cliff jump into the pond. To top off the picturesque view, the pond is surrounded by blueberry bushes.

As we got ready to jump in and swim over to the cliff, I noticed something giant chilling in the water next to the put-in. A snapping turtle with a shell a foot in diameter looked me in the eye, and for a second I thought that if I went in the water I would have ended up lunch. Trying not to think to much about the snapping turtle, we snuck past and made our way to the cliff. After a few jumps, the turtle lost interest, and we were able to make it back to shore with all of our fingers attached. I would say that it was a nice adventurous interlude.

Archery Break

Sitting shiva for a loved one is a marathon of hugs, kisses, conversation and people. By the middle of the day, everyone just needed a break. What would any sensible family do? Shoot archery of course! During our shiva dinner break, everyone took a shot, even my grandmother. By the end of the break, as the first shiva visitor almost walked into the middle of the range, we all shared a chuckle.

My Grandfather brought the family together!

I hadn't realized this before my Grandfather's funeral, but I don't remember the last time my whole family was together. Heck, I don't think that there was a last time that all my cousins and uncles were together! So there we were all eating dinner at our family's first reunion so to speak. With all of us together in honor of Poppop, the first thing to do was to tell stories, of course!

I was thinking that I had the best story lined up. We had gone to visit my Grandpa in Saint Martin and at dinner, he ordered the thing that somehow looked (or maybe sounded - you know french) good to him - pizza with oefs. If you speak French, you may have just cringed because oefs are eggs, but he ordered away, and not only did a pizza covered in eggs come to our table, but the eggs were raw! Thankfully, I ordered a pizza with black olives and shared a slice after many laughs.

Although funny, my story didn't win the prize in my book. My aunt Jane told a pretty funny one about Poppop watching her try to ice skate and telling her that she was as graceful as a swan even though she couldn't get off the ground, and my uncle Doug told a good one about when poppop came to recess because he heard that the kids were mean to Doug and he gave him a bag of jelly beans to share. Doug was the coolest kid at school for a day. The prize winner though was, of course, my Grandma's story about their honeymoon. My Grandmother hates the cold. She hates snow. She hates skiing. So, of course, they went skiing for the honeymoon at one of the coldest resorts in Canada. She ended up taking lessons with a French-only speaking instructor while poppop skied, and by the end of the trip, ended up entering a race, getting third and breaking a rib! Sounds romantic - right?

in remembrance

Today I got some bittersweet news - my Grandpa - Ed Paley passed away. He was 88 years old, had survived three quadruple bypass surgeries and had a kickass life. Born in Brooklyn NY, my grandpa volunteered for the 10th Mountain Division in WWII. He wrote letters home every week. His mom kept the letters, and we still have them along with many other of his writings. In the 10th, he was heroic. Not the type of heroic that brags, but the type that ponders in letters why he was the ONLY man in his unit left unscathed. In one battle in the Italian Alps, he ran across enemy fire, breaking all of the rules, losing his pack, medical kit and helmet, and forced a machine gunner to disassemble his gun and surrender. For this ordeal, he was awarded a Silver Star.

Along with bravery, Ed was known as an innovative army man, selling hammocks to his unit after a rainstorm at training camp swamped everyone's tent except his hammock. He had a great sense of humor. After liberating an Italian village, he was asked to address a group in a church by Italian villagers. On a raised platform he started reciting the only italian he knew, "Friends, Romans and Countrymen" and was rushed offstage. Later he was told that he was speaking to captured German soldiers.

After the war, he returned without a penny to his name, only to swoon my Grandmother, and later start a successful business that initiated an industry in manufacturing contamination control products while raising four kids. He was always trying and learning - welding, painting, sculpting, finding new ideas, up until the very end. He is survived by four children, ten grandchildren, and an amazing wife - my Grandmother, Florence Paley.

I always want to remember his strength and determination, so I painted my SUP paddle with the 10th Mountain Division insignia. It would have been nice to be able to show him, but I will always have him on my mind.

Hooah!

Just couldn't take it

East Coast tortillas just aren't the same. Back home in Colorado, they are fresh, delicious and have the perfect texture. Not so in New England, where they crack, crumble and taste like they may have been frozen and defrosted about five or six times. So, I couldn't take it any longer. What do I do when I want a tortilla now? I make one! I made a quick tortilla press in the woodshop, and to my surprise, it was relatively easy to make. Only one problem: I made the press out of hardwood, but the handle out of softwood, so the thing cracked on the tenth or so tortilla. A handle is an easy fix, and I'll take it as a lesson in materials science - don't make the part that gets the most beating out of something soft!

Tough call

Which is cooler? Green Guru's waterproof, break down pannier or my bivin' inspired detergent bucket one that I made at the beginning of the year? I have to lean toward the bucket, solely because I crafted it, but Green Guru is up there for sure. What do you think?

Professional Bivin

...The opposite of glamping (glamorous camping) = Bum livin'

That is what my friends and I decided was the best way to describe our way of life. Our realization of this fact came during one of our camping trips to Rumney, NH to go climbing. We paid for a campsite, then when the owner came to do rounds, told us that we could camp at the actual campsite (some distance from the car)... Apparently setting up a tarp in the dirt and cooking over a pop can stove wasn't something that she saw very often.

Other ways to biv-it-up: make pancakes for dinner, then eat them on the floor because you don't have chairs, or generally choose the most uncomfortable and hardcore option in every situation. Oh, and using an XL raincoat as a rope bag qualifies.