Bear Peak, Boulder County, Colorado.

Bear Peak is the highest and most prominent peak in the Front Range, along the foothills of Boulder, Colorado.

With just the elevation of 8,461 feet (nothing compared to a 14er), it offers no less than 3 miles of at least 3000 feet gain. My friends and I took the Fern Canyon trail (which is the steepest and most difficult route) and I'm not gonna lie, it was quite strenuous and difficult for me. This trail was a stair-suckfest, or stair-heaven depends on what kind of freak you are. However, we really enjoyed the rock formations throughout the hike with a great amount of shade, beautiful green grass and exotic wild flowers. It was also amazing to feel the cool air from the rocks. 

There were a lot of hikers, with their adorable dogs and screaming babies. There were also tons of runners who wear nothing but short shorts to show off their sickening endurance-injected muscular bodies. One of these days, I'll get there, I promise. But for now, I'm happy with my crawling "2 hr/mile" speed and a backpack full of snickers bars, beers, and a camera. 

  

2014 Enlightens Me With Changes!

Where do you begin when everything has changed?

People collect strange things, like coins, habits, and friends. I collect mountain peaks and photo albums after every trail I've hiked on. It's a childhood habit originating from an evident lack of "stuff I'm not supposed to do because I'm an Asian woman, but it makes me feel important anyway."

I've reached my goals last year, which means I have the opportunity to set some new ones this year. In 2013, I moved to a new place that allowed me to live the dreams, continue the love for nature, and took many wilderness escapes. 2014 opened my book of journey with a pleasant trip to Salt Lake City, with a purpose of meeting new people. I love networking, and I love interacting with people, especially the outdoor enthusiast ones.

The weekend in Salt Lake City was quite eventful. It's a nice little town with lots of live music and healthy adventurists. Over the few days course, I didn't see a troupe of half naked bicyclists like Boulder. However, I drove among the mountains and did a bit of boutique shopping to finish everything off. Ironically, driving through downtown and witnessing the major event, the OR (Outdoor Retail) show I've been hearing all week. Think of 2,000 interactive marketers all gathered into one place for inspirational speeches, techie-marketing savvy, and free stuff. It's all about free stuff. Turns out, the internet isn't just a passing fad and there's a lot of awesome stuff happening with it. Keep your eyes peeled on this social media thing, it's a big deal.

A yoga session with live DJ jamming in psychedelic tunes was quite refreshing, especially after being enclosed in a tight-little-car space for 9 hours.

The food has been excellent; there was a live band that played surprisingly good Latin music. Wouldn't it be cool if we all had thought bubbles above our heads? I hope someone invents that before I die, because it'd make dinning with strangers a lot more entertaining. Three-hour, nonstop dancing at a "Best-in-Town" venue turned out to be exactly what I needed.

The snowshoeing hike on the following morning was spectacular. The event was put together by TetonSports (an newer outdoor company that makes camping gear). The hike was far from strenuous; it was short and sweet. I've always been so impressed with the mountains here in Utah. They're quite big, sometimes snowy and often filled with trees. If you're lucky, you'll spot a mountain stream gushing down the rocks in the slippery slopes. I've done sea caving, kayaking, shipwreck exploring, and overlapping waves of the ocean, but my heart belongs to the vertical gain. Much thanks to Shawn, founder of TetonSports, who did a phenomenal job at organizing the snowshoe hike to the Donut Falls up in the Big Cottonwood Canyon.

Donut Falls.

The best part about the hike was the people I've met through social networking. These folks are from all over the states, Oregon, Washington, Minnesota, and even from Texas. They all came with a bag of adventurous souls. Beautiful spirits and positives make the time spent more memorable. A family who currently resides here in SLC invited me into their home for a night of delicious food, and stories with enthusiasm, optimism and intellect.

Leaving downtown before dawn makes the flickering city lights a  lot more surreal. Salt Lake City reminds me a bit of a rural, upper class town. Only with "Trust Jesus" painted on the sidewalks (except for one, where it was scratched into "Don't trust Jesus. He hates you.") Besides skiing and disappearing in the mountains, I can't imagine what people do here. I don't think I'd make a very good Mormon, after all.

I'm thankful for 2013, for the people I've met, and epic adventures. Innovation has become a currency, although a great deal of wisdom has been passed down as well. Looking back over the past year, I finally have the perfect foundation to launch tomorrow with. Each year, I'm amazed at the memories and possibilities that are revealed. When it's all done, everything falls into place exactly as it should: the good, the bad, and the spectacular. I'm excited for 2014. The year of an ongoing quest for new, interesting friends, the people who cross my paths, things I'll do, and continents to conquer.

Photo Credit to MBybee.

I am Tucker, the Adventure Dog!

A little introduction about myself: my name is Tuck Norris, and I’m pretty sure I’m the cutest. Well, I am very charming, and handsome. Some hoomans mistake me for a mountain goat. Very close, but I’m a black Labrador-Rottweiler prince charming to be accurate. I enjoy lots of photo shoots since modeling comes naturally for me.

I like to pretend I’m obeying my master’s commands; it amuses me when she falls for it and feeds me fancy food. I am shy 7 years of age, and still haven’t quite figured out how to lick my butt yet, but that will come someday. The only thing I’m a little embarrassed about myself is my foul breath. Though I’m still getting a lot of kisses, so I’m not too stressed out about it.

 

What makes me an adventure dog is the fact that I love hiking, backpacking for extended periods of time, or even multiple days. I would love to have a companion of my kind for many reasons, but hoomans will do for now. Being an adventure dog give me many benefits, besides the obvious like more treats and frequent pettings, my favorite part of a hike is the satisfactory amounts of butt sniffing from pretty four-legged females, even though I’m not interested in them because I have no balls. I do like to chase stuff, especially stuff that moves around in unpredictable zigs and zags. The Cheshire Cat from “Alice in Wonderland” had a quote that I can completely relate to: “Well, some go this way, some go that way. But as for me, myself, personally, I prefer the shortcut.”

I am quite possibly the most loyal and confident hiking guide you’ve ever asked for, and I’m very protective of my master. On the trial, I never need to put a leash on you as I trust that you will never go out of eye-shot, and you will follow me at all time. I always find my way without a map, hear things that you can’t, see life through the darkness and never complain, nor ever will I give you the stupid pep talk. Although sometimes, I do need to work on my speed; I mostly out hike you, but I always wait and make sure you catch up before proceeding on with my mission. 

Most hoomans I know aren’t out in weather cold/harsh enough that their dogs can’t handle it. That being said, winter is not an issue for me, as I can survive through sub temps that would kill most hoomans. However, when we’re out camping in the cold weather, I gotta admit I do love snuggling into my master’s sleeping bag at night because I care; rumors say that body heat is the best to stay warm. I snore really loud when I sleep as I often stumble across some kinds of epic adventures in my dreams. My master has no trouble sleeping through it because it is the most natural therapeutic sleep remedy for her.

 
One of my favorite two-legged companions is my master. She occasionally wakes me up from my 17-hour Tuck coma, drags me out of the house before I get to tackle my important must-do list, one of which is to sit and stare out the window for several hours pondering Einstein’s theory of relativity, until to see my arch-enemy Claus Von Squirrel-berg as he sits on the tree, mocking me. But, I’d rather go on a hike than completing my list.

Being on top of Boulder Creek Falls, hopping rocks and crossing streams for several miles into the Canyon, climbing Colorado’s highpoint (my first Fourteener, Mt. Elbert), the short and simple 3 mile leg stretch, so called Mt. Sanitas trail, remains my all time entertainment: so many dogs, and plenty of devious chipmunks.

 

I've been through a lot of epic journeys with my master, and that’s how I find my love for the nature and adventures. I’m always up for a hike with anyone, at any time, to the end of the world and I’ll still be your “Mountain Goat”. Also, I’m open for new hiking buddies, no strings attached (pun intended, wuff wuff). Petting me IS required. In return, I will satisfy all your “Awww, that’s cute” needs. I will even let you carry my water and the travel bowl. Peanut butter and appropriate amount of dog treats are a plus.

Boulder Flood

I moved to Broomfield, Colorado, on New Year day of 2013. Growing up in Vietnam, I remember vividly, during the raining season, it rained every freaking day, which produced frequent floods in the city. In my younger age, 3 feet of water in our house was super cool, sort of like having an indoor swimming pool. 

Living in Boulder for several months in the summer, at 10 a.m. on the first Monday of each month, Boulder tests its emergency warning system –deafening loud sirens and booming voice over the loud speakers chillingly announcing, “THIS IS A WARNING SYSTEM TEST.”

The “100 Year Flood” was part of the local lexicon, one of those legendary things that can’t really happen. On September 12 – 15, when the proverbial “100 Year Flood” actually happened, it was a shocker. For one thing, no one ever thought big flood would happen in September, when summer monsoon storms typically taper off and thunderstorm producing convection is weak. The year, the monsoon was stubborn, and a confluence of static weather systems and particularly abundant moisture produced a cataclysm that seemed to be “biblical”.

The hard rain started on September 11^th, and that night I was lying in bed listening as the skies opened up with deluge. Thunder and lightning sent me scurrying for cover.  Then the sirens started. That night alone it rained 7”, exceeding the record of 5.5” for the entire month of September. It did not stop. By the time the weather system finally moved out, some stations had recorded 17” of precipitation.

The next morning, on my way to work, I had to take a detour  due to collapsed bridges. After making it to work safely, which is in Boulder, in less than an hour, our office announced “Closed” due to weather disaster. Instead of heading home, my curiosity got better of me, and I decided to stay in Boulder to see “what was up.” It was stunning to see how every usually tiny trickle had turned into a rushing cascade. The roads were washed out everywhere, and huge new drainage channels had been created literally overnight. Foot bridges over several little creeks had completely disappeared. I foolishly decided to check out Boulder Creek trail, one of my favorites. There was a crossing part over the creek, normally you simply step over a little trickle of water, this time was increasingly life-threatening.

Two days later, there was a break in the rain, and I’d been feeling all cooped up. By now, I saw pictures and video footage on the news – the road washouts and the towns of Lyons and Estes Park underwater. I decided to sneak up on Mt. Sanitas, wasn't sure if I could get on the hills or how far I could go. On my way there, I wasn't prepared for the devastation I found: roads were completely destroyed, houses and cars were in the raging creek. Military helicopters buzzed overhead, assessing the situation. Million dollar homes were parched undamaged up on the hillsides, but they might be worthless due to the inaccessible roads.

Boulder rain finally stopped around 9:00 am on September 16^th. The sun timidly poked through the clouds as I walked along city streets, many of which were still in running water. There was mud everywhere, which quickly dried and turned to dust, churned up by traffic. Cops stopped to removed barricades from recently flooded areas, while yellow police-tape blocked off the most damaged areas. Piles of soaked carpet, insulation and furniture lined the sidewalks. In the wake of Boulder’s biggest flood in recorded history, some people lost their homes, tragically some even lost their lives, others are dealing with little more than flooded basements, and some of us very lucky ones are just wondering where we’re going to hike tomorrow.

5 Great Gift Ideas for the Newbie Outdoor Enthusiast this Christmas.

So far, every time I look up gift ideas online, often I come across blogs and posts that suggest a bunch of gears, like shoes, stoves, sleeping bags... BORING! Let REI and Gander Mountain do all those advertising and marketing stuff for ya. I, in the other hand, have several excellent gift ideas for those beginner/outdoorsy enthusiasts who want to be extreme.

1. Ski or Snowboard Lesson Passes.

2. State Park or/and National Park Sticker(s)

3. One or Two-day Rock Climbing Anchor Classes

4. Guided Climbing Trip(s)

5. Glacier Skill and Crevasse Rescue Courses

They say money can't buy time, and they're wrong. What's a better gift when you can spend a little money (or a lot of money) to be partners in crime on top of a summit together.

Climbing at Devil's Lake

Climbing is a very dangerous activity. But, as you know, sport climbing, rock climbing, and mountain climbing have become increasingly in favor. The popularity of climbing walls has drawn people to outdoor climbing areas, such as Devil’s Lake in Wisconsin. When gym climbers like me decide to make the leap to outdoor climbing, the result is always a ton of fun, challenges, and profoundly different. 

Devil’s Lake, near Baraboo in south-central Wisconsin, provides extraordinary climbing opportunities for climbers. The quartzite cliffs are a geologic anomaly in a region better known for its unusual sandstone formations. With pink, red, or purple color, the rock terrain is hard with smooth and shinny surfaces, sharp fractures, cracks, ledges, slabs, chimneys, and a variety rock forms that make this the best rock climbing area in the Midwest. 

I just love how purple this rock is.

Based on the most recent discovery, there are over 2000 climbing routes in the area. I never worry for not finding a route. The classics may have been taken, but there’s always a crack waiting to be jammed.  With the ever-lasting climbs to choose, it is essential to bring a guidebook, or make sure the “Mountain Project” app function properly in your fully-charged Smartphone, or pay several hundred bucks for a guide/training course, or just invite a friend or two, who know the area really well, then later on offer them a nice cold beer with brats over a campfire or something similar. Last weekend, we joined Steve and Cecilia Johnson here for a great climbing experience. I am very fortunate to have met and became friends with this wonderful married couple from a rock climbing gym several years ago, who are also an excellent guide anywhere we go since they have been climbing outdoors for over 30 years of their lives.

Well-set anchors

Mr. Steve Johnson and I on top of a route: the King's Throne.

The route: Son of Great Chimney

October is the Devil’s chance to give us a spectacular show of color and richness of autumn leaves. Fall is gorgeous here at its peak. We came a little later in the season, 50% of the leaves has changed colors, and 40% fallen. Even so, love at first sight was all over again every year. All I wanted to do was taking pictures, but somehow, they could not justify the stunning colors display around the lake. 

The morning air and chill made for quiet mornings, but the sun eventually emerged and climbers started to show up. As usual, I was psyched by the quality of my company. After a bunch of good climbing, a friend expressed interest in trad climbing on one of the routes nearby, so we wrapped up our ropes and gear to prepare for the Queen’s Throne(5.4) where good cracks and placement opportunities abound. It’s fun when climbers are as interested in the technical side of climbing as the physical one. But don’t worry, you can easily find a Devil’s Lake 5.8 that gives as much physical work as a 5.10 gym route.

I was working on setting another TR anchor.

A climbing day can be wonderful for a lot of reasons, as many of them can be unpredictable. Certainly, a good climbing day is accounted because you climb harder than ever before, finally understand a key movement concept, or you send the formerly-impossible project you’ve been working on for months. To me, the beauty of a climbing day is not really about “climbing” at all, but more the relationships – with ourselves, each other, and the natural world… A day can shine with great stories that lead to ridiculous jokes and uncontrollable laughter, an off-hand suggestion that leads to a pretzeled climbing position, a good question that leads to an hour-plus conversation, because we are out here with some amazing people, and we can do whatever we want to do.

All in all, I couldn't ask for a better climbing weekend, and hope to continue getting out a few more times this gorgeous fall weather before the snow and ice arrive.