The days are growing short

Final preparations have begun: packing the packs (one more time); counting socks and underwear; labelling the clothes.

I shortened my sweetie’s new pants—that was tricky. The pants had zippers at the hem, and they’re zip-offs. I cut the excess fabric out of the lower-leg pieces and adjusted the taper at seams, sewed the pieces together, and replaced topstitching that had been disturbed. It might have gone a little better if I had done it in two cuts, one above and one below the knee, but it will do. I did resist the urge to add extra (new) pockets made out of the removed fabric! Those bits of nylon poplin will have a use, I am sure. Maybe pouches for storage? We’ll see.

We are learning to use our new cameras (the old ones were pretty old, and besides the new cameras have much better optical zooming!) and have discovered that we need to add a small carry-on bag to the list—something that is soft, lightweight, and able to hold the cameras, cell phones, Kindle, boarding passes…the usual little things that can’t be checked. Plus some snacks!

It looks like the new bag will be a soft sided fabric affair, with strap handles. I’m going to use up some of my Texas A&M quilting fabric for this one. (Sorry, Tech, but I don’t have any Red Raider fabrics in the house! Maybe you should license some.) One of my children bleeds Maroon, anyway. ;-)

For now, since there are no bag pictures to show yet, I will put up one of the pictures from my new camera.

Oh, and for any readers from Mexico who are Mothers: ¡Feliz Día de Madres!

from my sweetie's new camera, a neighborhood flower (gaillardia, zoomed)

from my new camera, the little puppy--hanging out in the kitchen of course!

We're getting all excited!

Not much longer now!

Today, we did a brisk 3 miles--over to the park with ducklings (two clutches) and around it, then home again.

Yesterday we slept late and were discouraged by the high humidity, so we didn't walk at all. Not good.

On the good side, we've been looking over our packs and we have about all we need...possibly a little too much even. I'm considering pulling a shirt or two out of the pack and putting it back into the closet. After all, there is the Kindle and the camera and the toothbrush...

And from our stash of photos on hand, just for pretty:

A pretty cloud--July 2013

And a trip item:

A wet bag I made to take along--in case we have wet socks we need to store until we stop for the day.

Seeing a different section of the Hike and Bike

Today we went to the Hike and Bike, but we didn’t do our usual route. My sweetie wanted to do “the levee.” I had no idea what he was talking about. “Levee” can mean any elevated long lump in the landscape, in practice. It turned out that what he meant was to take a left on the paved turn-off along the way, before we reached the bridge with the swallows. The blacktopped, elevated path was indeed a levee, as it was a good 6 or 8 feet above all the surrounding area.

Little though one could tell it with all the brush growing up. We saw brush piles where a tractor had pushed out mesquite trees in the past, but they were next to 15 foot tall, thick-trunked mesquite trees and bushy nopal cactus plants that must have been 8 feet across and 7 feet tall. So the brush clearing activities were all in the past. After a while we came to a place where the blacktop turned left and descended to meet the regular (also blacktopped) path that we usually walk. There was another path, though, just a set of tire tracks along the top of the levee, and we took it. We saw the biggest walking-stick bug I have seen in a good while along it. We got a good overview of the city’s project to install—I guess—water pipes along the road. Eventually we got the the road and found the turn-off that leads to the parking lot. That was steep, but the dirt was dry and the rocks in the dirt were not loose, so it was okay to walk down on. When we got to the bottom, we found a sign (facing the parking lot, of course) that said “Levy run”. And then I realized what my sweetie had been talking about when he said he wanted to do the levee.

It was a fresh, beautiful Monday morning, with very few people out. We saw a collection of cottontails, and a dove that was dancing on the path to lead us onward, and a roadrunner (paisano bird) that was dancing around between trees off of the path. I think there must be at least two, and maybe three, pairs of roadrunners that live in the Hike and Bike park. Along with the small group of javelinas.

On Thursday last, we saw a javelina boar, but he wasn’t posing for pictures and we didn’t get the camera out in time, so his handsome profile went uncaptured. (Darn.) Today, no javelinas, even though we got to the Hike and Bike around 0740.

Also today the new camera arrived. I will try to learn how to take good pictures to upload with it. Today’s pictures are still with the old camera.

because every Valley blog needs a palm tree!

The walking stick, next to my sweetie's hiking boot for size.

Cooking Fennel

I’d like to make a side trip here, and talk about food. Specifically, garden food.

This winter gardening season has been very tough. Aside from lettuce, not much has been happy with all the chilly days we’ve had. One plant—a new one for me—that did pretty well was bulb fennel.

“Why would you be growing bulb fennel anyway?” I hear from the wings. Well, it’s this way—they never carry the stuff in the grocery stores. And it’s supposed to be good. Besides, I think the seeds were on sale! And it sprouted. It grew. The chilly weather didn’t bother it, like it did the peppers and tomatoes and eggplants. The fennel plants were just there, happily growing with their tall feathery tops.

Eventually I pulled one. Used the fronds to bake fish. (Not a winner, I don’t care what the famous Father Z says about it.) Sliced the bulb into a green salad. It was tough and it was tasteless. Certainly neither of these treatments was a good plan. In fact, the way they came out, I would have said there was no reason to domesticate the darned plant in the first place.

But I still had more of the fennel plants. So…yesterday being a Friday, when I prefer to serve fish or vegetarian dinner, I thought I’d try again with the fennel.

I had a bag of the frozen mixed seafood. (Tiny octopi, mussels, etc. etc.) I had butter. And I had the fennel plants. I pulled 2 plants, trimmed off the tops to feed my chickens, cleaned and sliced the bottoms. Melted butter in the big skillet and added the slices, began cooking them on low-to-medium heat. After a while, I turned over the chunks that were big enough to turn, sprinkled with a bit of salt, and added the frozen mixed seafood. A sprinkle of Tony Cachere’s Cajun seasoning, too. Put the cover on the pan and turned it down a bit.

Success! The taste of it was salty, but the fennel was just the least bit sweet. The seafood was good, too. We ate it with a side of sweet potato fries, sprinkled with a wee bit of cinnamon and baked in the oven.

Low carb, high taste. 

That pretty much finishes off the little fennel patch. I guess I’ll grow them again next year—since there is a way to make it taste good.

This morning we walked six miles, no packs this time, and got Q tacos on the way home for breakfast. I think our average speed worked out to about 18 minutes per mile. We’re getting excited now—made a little sewing kit to carry, including a small holster for the thread scissors, and bought luggage tags at Wal Mart yesterday.

Pack stuff

When we first discovered El Camino de Santiago, we learned right away that we needed packs. The walking pilgrim carries all his clothes. All his accessories, like shampoo or medicines, and his bedding. So we knew we’d need packs to carry sleeping bags, clothes, and such little sundries as a compass and a map and a cat-hole trowel. (In case of emergency miles away from any bar or gas station.)

We stopped at the REI in Georgetown and told our story to the nice young man in the backpack department. He looked at us, measured, and suggested a pack. For me, the Deuter Ladies’ model, ”45L+10” it says, and with only a slight adjustment of the movable harness in the back it was fine. Mine turned out to be green. For my sweetie, another Deuter, a 40+10 men’s model, which turned out to be red. I think the “+10” refers to filling up the little top bag full of stuff.

I have learned that, while I still think my pack is wonderful, I don’t want to fill the little top bag full of things, because between that and the carry loop, it gets in the way of my hat brim. I keep having to fold the hat brim up at the back. I guess I could just wear a gimme cap—my green John Deere cap with the pink doodads and rhinestones would work—but I did buy that hat on purpose. It’s an Outdoor Research one, with a reasonably stiff brim that doesn’t flop down in front. They say it will float, too. And it has a string—what the Western rider sites call a “stampede string"—and that keeps the hat from blowing away in a stiff breeze. I can’t decide if I should just get used to having the hat brim folded up in back or give up on wearing it.It does keep the top of my ears covered.

The other thing I need to figure out about this pack—which I learned on May Day this year—is that it rests—well, the strap rests—on top of my bra strap on one side and hurts at the collarbone. And I need to figure out what to do about that. (My sweetie says I should just go unsupported. But, really, do I want the market to sag that much? So to speak.) Maybe I just need to loosen the bra strap a little, or move it to one side.

I will see the next time we walk with our packs.

Which because of their padded, stiff straps and molded, padded, stiff hip straps will need a container (duffel) to go on the plane. Otherwise the straps will get snagged on something in the hold and be torn up. Or off altogether!
I was thinking about options. The Army style duffels are heavy.  Make that HEAVY. They’re made of cotton canvas. I don’t want to drag that all over Spain on my back. And I’m not excited about tossing them onto the abandoned-stuff table at Biarritz airport or the first albergue. I thought about making bags to put our packs into. But I’ve never sewn this type of project before, and there is very little time left. So I think we’ll end up buying the REI pack duffels, which are light weight, won’t have to be tossed, and come with a little stuff sack into the bargain.

We Are Da Stuff!

Today we started out pretty-much on time. (yay!)

We took our packs and did 10 miles with them on. My sweetie said his feet were fine. My feet were fine. (Thank you HEB! I got the little silicon tube sleeve for a toe and it was tremendously helpful for that one toe.)

We started at 8:01 and finished the 10 at 11:20. That included a break at the halfway point—potty and water fountain and a brief sit at the entrance to Bentsen State Park.

If you go there, they really have it fixed up pretty, with a water garden and a gift shop and a café. And a restroom that, except for a few dead bugs that wandered in overnight, is clean and nice.

I wish they had a simple vending machine for small (8 ounce) waters. I don’t want a café at the midpoint of a 10 mile hike. I just want water. Or cold tomato juice. That would also be good.

When we got home, my sweetie made me a tall glass of tomato juice with ice in it. Heaven!

I had one new blister—the Body Glide ran out—but was otherwise pretty much OK. I did have the strap of the pack sitting on top of my bra strap on one side. This is a problem, and I don’t know what to do about it—where the two pressed on the collarbone it was painful. Paying attention to posture helped.

Tomorrow (Friday) we had been intending to do a 10 miles without the packs, but I committed to sub for a friend at 10 in the morning, so we will probably do a shortie (3 miles or so) and get on with the day.

But—hooray!—we walked for 10 miles with our packs and were mostly feeling fine at the end of it. We Are Da Stuff!