Sharon M. Himsl - Shells, Tales and Sails: bicycles

Showing posts with label bicycles. Show all posts

Friday, September 13, 2013

Celebrate the Small Things: Summer Biking

Today I am celebrating summer biking. Vince and I have biked for most of our married life together. When the children came we strapped them into baby seats on the back (no bike helmets in those days!) and went exploring. Nothing competitive, mind you. We would bike through the neighborhoods, explore the university campus, or pick a destination across town (ice cream comes to mind) - simple, small outings.

I wish I had a photo to share. I did not realize how much those times meant to me until this post. For some reason, my children do not bike with their kids today. They are too busy with jobs and life I guess, and some areas of the country (theirs perhaps) are not bike friendly.

One of the best kept secrets of living on the border of the Northern Idaho Panhandle is the vast trail system available to bikers. Most of the bike trails are old railroad beds that have been paved over. One trail, the Trail of the Hiawatha, requires busing to the top, but the views are so worth the effort. We have biked this graveled trail (all downhill) more than once. Other trails are planned trails that connect our area's small towns, like the Chipman Trail between Moscow and Pullman. All with few exceptions are family friendly (and most cost nothing to use).

Vince and I recently camped and biked out of Harrison, Idaho, a trail head for the popular Trail of the Coeur d'Alenes, a seventy-two mile path that follows the old Union Pacific route from Mullan, ID on the Montana border to Plummer (ID) on the Washington border.

Ready to go!!

We passed through St. Maries, Idaho en route. Saw this giant Paul
Bunyan standing in front of a school. Every child raised in the
Northwest (my generation at least) grew up with the story of
Paul Bunyan chopping his way through the forest and settling
the Northwest.


At the trail head, Harrison, Idaho. Trail of the Coeur d 'Alenes.

Vince on trail traveling north. "Are you coming?"
(We biked 20 miles in one day!)

Marshland scenery is lovely. Ducks and lily pads everywhere.

A fawn that flirted with us along the trail. We also saw moose and blue heron, but camera wasn't quick enough. There are eagles in the area too.

View from campsite. Lake Coeur d'Alene

Time to rest, time to eat. We love our cabin on wheels.

Back on trail next day along the lake, going south.

That's me on the trail. We wanted to stay longer, but had to get back home.
We biked 8 miles, a total of 28 miles in two days!

Sharon M. Himsl

Writer/Author. Blogging since 2011.
Published with Evernight Teen:
~~The Shells of Mersing

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Lake Entiat: Sailing and More

Well, we did it. Vince and I took "Duet" out of storage after nearly four years of neglect and sailed for two days in a row. I must admit though we had a comical Laurel and Hardy start, rigging the boat and trying to remember which line went where. Vince was beginning to question the work-to-fun ratio. What had once been a thirty-minute process to rig this fifteen-foot wonder (a Montgomery 15) quickly turned into a two-hour fiasco, with a lot of head-scratching and staring at instructions. But our efforts did eventually pay off.

Duet was a beautiful sight when the sails were finally hoisted. She was the only sailboat on Lake Entiat last weekend. Sailing is all about the moment, not the destination. One glides along at the mercy of the wind on a zig-zag course. In a world spinning faster the older I get, I find this pace relaxing at times, but the work getting the boat ready was hard in the hot sun. (Note to V&S: do not rig in 90-plus heat!!)

Vince at the tiller, his favorite position.

At the tiller or on the bow. Either spot, I like both!

Lake Entiat is a large reservoir located near Rock Island Dam, one of Washington's many hydroelectric dams on the Columbia River.

Near Orondo, Washington next to the Wenatchee Mountain range, Lake Entiat is a nice recreational destination for campers and boaters. It is about four hours away for us. Vince and I camped three nights on its shore at Daroga State Park along with my brother and wife's family.

Site 24. Where we camped.

Lots of food and good company!

Delicious campground beef stew with home grown vegetables, made by my sister-in-law. I was surprised to learn that this is the same Coleman stove my parents used when I was a girl. My brother had discovered it recently in storage. Still works great!

Besides sailing, I also tried water skiing behind my brother's boat, but alas . . . after a hiatus of probably thirty years, my legs just were not strong enough. ~Sigh~ I so much wanted to be up on those skis. I still remember skiing under the Narrows Bridge in Tacoma, Washington behind my father's boat as a teen. The water was quite choppy that day in Puget Sound under the Narrows and there had been whale sightings nearby. I held fast to the rope and avoided jumping over the wake, as was my usual form, on the lookout for anything black and unusually large.

(Brrr . . . Don't worry, I can do this! I think I can, I think I can . . .)

My brother remembers a similar experience skiing over a swarm of yellow jelly fish when he was younger, also worried he would fall. By the way, he bounced right up on those skis when it was his turn. Way to go, Bob!!

Vince and I brought bicycles, too, and enjoyed the bike trails that run through the park and beyond alongside the lake. Five hours of sailing and and an hour or two of biking gave us a good workout, and yes, I was a bit sore when I came home. Not bad for a couple getting ready to retire in a year or so, huh?

Sharon M. Himsl

Writer/Author. Blogging since 2011.
Published with Evernight Teen:
~~The Shells of Mersing

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Desperate Times: Stereoviews A-Z

In 1906, it was estimated that 500,000 homeless in the U.S. were hopping trains and living on the streets, which was around 0.6% of the population. By 1911, the numbers had grown to 700,000.

This is before Emmett Kelly's time, although the circus clown shown in this photo made me think of the tramp (Weary Willie) that Kelly made famous during the Great Depression in the 1930s.

The dialog is not my own (on any in the collection). You can barely see the faded dialog on the bottom right, but every stereoview in the collection has a label with dialogue or description. I had to use a magnifying glass!

"Why don't dese dudes ride chainless bikes?"

(ca. pre-1910)

Hmm . . . why not take the horse?

Sharon M. Himsl

Writer/Author. Blogging since 2011.
Published with Evernight Teen:
~~The Shells of Mersing

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Hey, That Just Isn't Right

Sometimes life kicks you in the shins and you want to stand up and raise a fist, yelling, "Hey, that just isn't right!" We stumble through and when it's all over, we are stronger and more resilient, or at least that is the hope. But sometimes the result is more permanent. A life is changed forever, or worse, a life is lost in its prime. It always seems to happen to the nicest people--the neighbor at the end of the block--the one with the barrel full of daffodils every spring, a teacher you remember loving so much, a kid that struggled in school and finally made it in the world . . . Tragedy strikes and they are snatched from our world here on earth forever. And when we finally catch our breaths, all we can say is, "Why?"

Sometimes it happens to someone or people we have never met before, but we relate to them on a human level. We grieve as a nation, as a community, and alone. This morning I read in the newspaper about a British couple I would never meet. They were living the life of their dreams, bicycling around the world and chronicling their journey in a blog called Two on Four Wheels.

On Monday, they were struck and killed by a pickup truck in Thailand. The driver survived. Peter Root and Mary Thompson, both 34, lost their lives doing what they loved most, exploring the world on bicycles, a journey that had begun in 2011 (from Guernsey, in the Channel Islands). They had traveled through Europe, the Middle East, Central Asia and China, and had plans to visit New Zealand next.

"They were camping wild, as they called it," said Jerry Root, father of Peter Root. "What helps me is to think of how happy they were with each other. They were leading the life they wanted to. It was the happiest, the most fruitful of lives." (Associated Press, 02-19-13)

I truly hope it was, and although they died tragically on a remote road in Thailand, I am almost certain they were in love with that beautiful country. It is sad we will never hear their impressions. Their last blog post had a photo of Cambodia, taken over a week ago. I include a photo from my own files of Thailand in 1995, in their memory.