Hay Clan

Before my ancestors came to America from Scotland, we didn't have the last name of "Hays". Back then, it was the Hay Clan. Mom and Sarah came for a visit a few weeks ago to escape the desert heat. Rocky is more like Scotland than the Mojave Desert for sure. Hay Clan reunited.


Some lucky guy is going to eat pies like this for the rest of his life.


Allison, Brian and Sarah at Bear Lake, with Long's Peak in the background.

They say Diamonds are a girls best friend

but after last Monday I would seriously reconsider the validity of that statement. When Brian and I got married I requested a modest 1/5 carrat-- and I've got to say I never expected Brian to request a diamond from me. . . especially not 1,400 ft of solid, verticle rock. But he did. And I agreed. The Diamond is the east face of Long's Peak and the coolest and hardest climbing in the entire Rocky Mountain region. I'm so happy that it's something I can say "I did." instead of "I'm doing." Whew. It was tough despite the 5.10a (but mostly 5.9 or 5.8) rating, but don't let that fool you. After hiking 6 miles up hill to a bivy spot, sleeping restlessly all night, waking up a 4am, scrambling across tallus, crossing a slippery glacier (thank heavens for the fixed rope), climbing 800ft of 5.4 at 4.30am and then you arrive at the base of the darn thing that sits above 13,000ft! Brian and I were the first party on it out of about 8 parties going for it. We barely made it before them (by about 10 seconds) and arrived to the top by 1pm. We brought our 70meter rope and finished the climb in five pitches. The climbing was seriously stout, not to mention the lack of oxygen. When we topped out, we headed over the top of the mountain and back down to our stuff, packed up and hiked out by 6pm. What a long day!!

Luckily we had been given gift certificates by someone we helped off this very mountain on a Rescue (he had a broken ankle and ribs), so we gorged guilt free on piles of meat the local BBQ place in Estes Park.

There's so much more to say! We've had a busy two weeks. Brian's family visited, then mine came (and we did an awesome backpack), I went on a three day bushwack adventure for work and moved us to a new apartment, went on another SAR and climbed and played with Brian. More posts to come!

R&R

NO, the title is not in reference to the common use of this two letter acronym (although I wish it was, I'm in dire need of a little "Rest and Relaxation" myself), but instead it refers to a new world I've entered-- that of "Rules and Regulations." Now that I've been eating, breathing, working and sleeping the National Park Service for the past three years, I've noticed a few things about the organization (and myself) recently. But for this to make sense, I need to preface what I'm about to say with a little bit of background info: I don't like stupid rules. They really really bug me. I've never liked being told that I can't do something. My parents could attest to this. In Kindergarden I refused to draw a nose on my portait because I didn't like them, despite being sent to principles office. Why? Because I didn't like noses and didn't care what the artistic authority had to say. I'll spare you the details of my teenage years, but will share that when I suggested to my mom that I might serve a mission her response was, "Well honey, do you really think you could follow all the rules?"

Since joining forces with the NPS, I find myself cringing daily. Buzzwords like "compliance" "incident" "offender" "mitigate" come up in daily conversation. Rangers really ENJOY telling people what to do. "Don't walk across the tundra" "Don't pick that flower" "You can't park here." But I'm not here to point fingers at anyone but myself. That's the thing-- scariest part of this new world I live in is that I AM THE ONE enforcing the rules! I see a little boy attempting to feed a chipmunk. Inner conflict begins. I remember my first trip to the tetons when I was 8 years old. I fed chipmunks with my grandpa at the waterfall. Do I remember anything else? No. But I remember I fed chipmunks and it was the coolest thing ever. Has the chipmunk population in Grand Teton Nat'l park died because ignorant visitors fed them for generations and now they don't know how to find food on their own? No, I don't think so. There is a healthy and thriving population of chipmunks. Suddenly my lips part and I hear myself say, "Did you know you can't feed the chipmunks? If you do, they'll become dependent on human food." Oh no! I did it! The boy quickly puts away his handful of peanuts and says sorry. I keep walking wondering what has happened to me.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not turbo-ranger by any means. I let the occasional thing slide here and there. But I have realized that the cruelest irony of adulthood is becoming the very things we despised in our youth. In my case, the enforcer of stupid rules.

No good deed goes unpunished

"No good deed goes unpunished", sort of a pessimistic phrase, but I've got two classic examples from this summer:

1. Our first weekend here we volunteered to clean up the chapel on Saturday morning. Angela and I got there early and volunteered to do yard work outside. We weeded, picked up trash, cleaned up fallen branches, etc... A day or two later I noticed I was getting itchy on my arms, legs, face, and elsewhere, and thought, "hmm, that's funny, this feels like poison ivy..."

I asked a local friend if there was any poison ivy in Lyons, the town where our chapel is located, and he said "oh ya, Lyons is covered with poison ivy, its everywhere."

Needless to say, some poison ivy grew its way onto the church grounds, found its way onto my skin, and then tormented me for the next week and a half.

2. I was at work driving between one place to another on a dirt road and saw a medium sized ponderosa pine branch that had fallen onto the side of the road. I almost passed by, thinking it would just get run over enough times to obliterate it, but then thought better of the idea and stopped to move it. I picked it up with both hands, then realized my mistake. I chucked the thing off the road, then spent five minutes trying to get two handfuls of sap cleaned off before I got it all over myself and the car I was driving.

Anyway, just two funny ones. And I actually do think that doing good deeds is the right thing to do, but there is truth to the saying that no good deed goes unpunished.

What's your funniest good deed punishment story?

Brian