Fitness and the Outdoors

I'm home now, feeling wistful about my days in the mountains.  It's always good to be home, see family and friends, start the intellectual wheels churning again.  But, still...  While I ate breakfast this morning, I read through a free magazine I picked up at the Boulder Farmer's Market called "Boulderganic:  Bringing self-sufficiency and sustainability home."

"In Boulder, people like to move.  While many studies suggest that group fitness and group sports might be the way to go, finding an outlet for group exercise can sometimes be a challenge-- especially in a community as transient and busy as Boulder."  So, a couple of UC alumni created a website designed to connect Boulder's "fitness community".  It's called BoulderActive.com.  You can find a person who shares your hobby, or try something new.

A separate article entitled "Can we stop loving Mother Nature to death?" provided some tips for both enjoying and protecting the wilderness.  "Coloradoans love their outdoors.  This is why people move here.  It's why people stay here.  It's why they live here.  They love visiting wilderness," says Ralph Swain, US Forest Service regional wilderness service manager.  With 3 million people living along or near the Front Range, the recreational activities effects soil, vegetation, wildlife and water. 

How do people protect the wilderness that they so love?  A few tips included- educate yourself; stay on the paths; be sure fires are out; manage food, trash and waste.  Maybe the most important thing is to keep in mind the words of The Wilderness Act.  The Wilderness Act was signed into law by President Lyndon Johnson on September 3, 1964.  "A wilderness... is recognized as an area where the earth and community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain."  Read that last phrase again-- where man (woman) is a visitor.  

Brainard Lake

Brainard Lake

It was an adventure to reach Brainard Lake, where I wanted to hike to Lake Isabelle, a two mile walk to a spectacular alpine lake.  My GPS routed me on the Boulder Canyon Road, which is a beautiful ride through the canyon.  Midway, all traffic stopped.  After 15 minutes, I got out of my car to talk to the driver ahead of me.  He told me heard that boulders fell into the road, so workers were removing the rocks. Great.  I waited a few more minutes and then turned around to try another route. Virtually back at where I started an hour later, I drove through Lefthand Canyon, with many cyclists on the winding, climbing canyon road.  

I arrived at Brainard Lake an hour later than I had hoped.  The parking lot for the Long Lake trail (which is the trail to Lake Isabelle) was full.  I tried the Mitchell Lake parking area and thankfully a car was pulling out!  So, that's where I hiked.  Through the pine forests for a mile into the Indian Peaks Wilderness Area.  Even with other hikers, it's blissfully quiet.  Mitchell Lake is smaller than some of the others, but the scenery is still breathtaking: the lake, the pines, the Rockies.  I particularly like to notice the shift in landscape at the high elevations, since these lakes are at the timber line.  I continued on the trail another mile for a more "aerial" view of the lake and mountains.  It's tough climbing at 10,000 feet!

On the way out of the Brainard Lake Recreation Area, cars had pulled over on the left shoulder and everyone had a camera.  I found a spot and joined the group watching five large moose munching on bushes.  At first the moose were somewhat hidden except for their antlers.  Then, as if humoring us, a couple of moose moved into the clearing so we all could get better pictures!  A few large claps of thunder sent me to my car.  I drove down the mountain in the rainstorm, and onto the CO 72, the "peak-to-peak" highway to get to Nederland and back to Boulder.  (By then the Boulder Canyon Road was clear, but the indentations from the boulders were evident in the road!) Another lucky day here in the West. 

http://www.resourceanalysis.com/fishing/fish6/f6.html
http://www.coloradowilderness.com/wildpages/indian.html

Moose!

Mt. Sanitas

When I asked locals here in Boulder where to hike nearby, everyone mentioned Mt. Sanitas.  So, I chose that trail to hike with my colleague's cousin who lives in Boulder whom I was going to meet for the first time.  She's an art teacher, an athlete and is familiar with this trail.

There are two main ways to get to the top of Mt. Sanitas- the Sanitas Trail up which is vertical over rocks and dirt,  or the Ridge Trail which is a packed dirt path for most of the way.  We decided to make a loop, up the Sanitas Trail and down on the Ridge Trail.  

For a novice such as myself, the trail was challenging and invigorating!  I had to watch my footing most of the way, stopping periodically to admire the view, catch my breath, and take in some water. It took us about 45 minutes to reach the top, a climb of 1255 feet.  The view is spectacular and it certainly felt like an accomplishment for me.  The hike down starts over more rocks until the trail becomes an easy walk on packed dirt.  While I don't mind the uphill to reach a view, all of the scrambling over rocks is tough on the knees!

dayhikesneardenver.com/mt-sanitas-hike-near-boulder/ 

Boulder Creek Path

This morning I ran a different portion of the Boulder Creek Path, past E. Fine Park and into Boulder Canyon.  There were many fewer people since this part of the path heads away from downtown.  I learned a bit of Boulder history- more on that another time.

Since there were some clouds this morning,  I decided it would be a good day to hike the Royal Arch Trail.  The ranger said to allow at least 1.5 hours when I previously inquired.  So, I filled my new 32 ounce water bottle, applied sunscreen, and started out.  I began on the Chautauqua Trail, then connected with Bluebell-Baird, and on to Royal Arch. The sign for Royal Arch said 1.1 miles.  Piece of cake, I thought.  I'll be to the top and back in an hour.  Hah!

The path quickly changed from packed dirt to rocks, boulders, dirt steps with logs to hold the dirt, and more rocks.  It seemed that some of the rocks had been placed to form steps.  This was no longer easy going.  Each person on the way down said, "It's worth it!"  When I felt I had climbed enough to be near the top, a couple heading down said at least 30-40 minutes more before the top of the trail and the Royal Arch itself.  How could that be possible? I soldiered on, as the saying goes.  Along the way I met another fellow hiker, George, from the Bay Area.  We chatted, climbed together, and swapped cameras. Once we reached the top, we joined others, and a few people made jokes- no elevator?  no Starbucks?  Reluctantly, we each left the relaxing perch on the rocks and headed back.

I don't know which was better- the view from the top or the satisfaction of the climb.  I was further humbled when I was later walking through the garden at Chautauqua to get lunch.  An older guy was sitting with an ice pack on his knee.  I shouted that I needed that too, after the Royal Arch hike.  He agreed that it was steep, and that he made that hike all the time.  Sigh.  He did, however, give me credit for making the climb after only a week in Boulder.

Southern Wyoming

Today, this semi-adventurous Jersey Girl decided to leave Colorado for the day.  The southern part of Wyoming is too close to pass up the opportunity to see another state and explore.  So, I checked the directions and distances for Cheyenne and Laramie,  checked Tripadvisor for sightseeing and lunch recommendations, and even threw a change of clothes in my backpack in case I loved the area so much that I didn't want to leave after only a few hours.  

In Cheyenne, the annual rodeo event called Frontier Days was underway.  I missed the morning parade, but not the remaining horse droppings which were abundant on the street in front of the capital building.  Once inside the capital, a state trooper behind a desk greeted me, asked me to sign in, and said I was free to take a tour.  No metal detector.  No tour guides.  No closed off areas.  The trooper even suggested I could go into the governor's office and sign his visitor's book, too. I wandered at will through the three floors, admiring the large stuffed bison on the first floor, looking into the portrait gallery, the chambers for the senators and representatives, and other offices.  The trooper commented that this was a building "for the people" and because it didn't attract crowds, the building remained completely accessible.

I didn't walk around the blocks of restaurants and shops in Cheyenne, but instead got back in the car to head to Laramie.  It's a fairly short ride, with the Medicine Row Mountains in the foreground and the Snowy Range in the distance.  Even though Laramie is at an altitude of 7,000 feet, the historic area is flat with no visible mountain ranges.  There's a Union Pacific Railroad Line at one end of town and several blocks of shops, restaurants, banks, and several yarn stores.  I walked and noted the places that were mentioned in my guidebook.  Two great bookstores within two blocks.  An outdoor store.  A western wear store with serious belt buckles and racks of cowboy boots.  A microbrewery, of course, and a recommended coffee shop.

I chose the microbrewery for lunch- Altitude Microbrewery- and enjoyed a burger and Altitude Amber Ale.  When I asked the bartender if it was always this quiet in town, he said it was.  He said he thought about moving to a bigger city such as Denver, but he liked the "small town" feel of Laramie.  After lunch I checked out the Night Heron Used Books and picked out a book and a piece of blueberry coffeecake.  My last stop was the Coal Creek Coffee Co. for a decaf for the road.  After only two hours I was ready to head back to the liveliness and Flatirons of Boulder.  I know I missed some great things, such as the University of Wyoming, but Laramie was not for me.

Boulder Falls and Nederland

After a morning hike, I needed a plan for the afternoon.  When I called the front desk to ask for a suggestion, the young woman with whom I spoke suggested Nederland- a beautiful ride, less than 20 miles, and a great restaurant for lunch.  Perfect!

The drive to Nederland goes through Boulder Canyon on Rt. 119.  It's another breathtaking ride through the mountains, literally.  There are rocks and evergreens on either side, the Boulder Creek, and cyclists, of course.  A bit more than mid-way, I saw a pull-out filled with cars, and people peering over the edge on the opposite side of the ride.  Since I was going slowly enough and there was no traffic, I pulled over, too.  What the people were looking at was the bottom of the Boulder Falls.  I joined others climbing over rocks on the walkway to get closer in to the falls.  A young couple was next to me, and the guy stated that he often went fly-fishing at the falls, and last week the water was running brown due to mud churned up by rain.  "Imagine what that would look like," he said while shaking his head.  We both continued on our walks.

Within 10 minutes or so of leaving the falls I reached Nederland, a small town that seems to spring up in the hills while you're driving.  I continued past the village area (the recommended restaurant was closed today) and went to Sundance Lodge and Cafe, where "the food is as good as the view" according to comments on TripAdvisor.  The food was good enough, but the view was unbeatable-- the Rockies and the Continental Divide.  I lingered beyond by salad and pork green chili, then went into the village.  While the houses on the hillside were quite large, the ones in town were small and in need of repair.  There were a few shops, several restaurants, a visitor's center, the post office, a bakery.  I bought a pin, tee-shirt and a "hiker's cookie" filled with cranberries, oatmeal, orange rind, and dates. While I wouldn't choose to live in Nederland, I was mighty glad I went to visit. 

The Rockies and Continental Divide

Life in Boulder

Boulder Farmer's Market

According to my Frommer's guidebook, Denver has the highest proportion of thin people than any other city in the country and a 2010 study stated Colorado is the state with the lowest percentage of the population to be overweight.  Here in Boulder, it is easy to understand why people are so fit:

There are 40,000 acres of parkland and more than 200 miles of hiking/biking trails.
There are approximately 100,000 bikes for the 100,000 residents.  Despite the hills, people bike everywhere, or are taking their bikes on their cars to bike somewhere else.
The popular Boulder Creek Path is a 16 mile stretch that runs east/west through the city and into the mountains and suitable for running, walking, biking.
There are five public pools (Three large rec. centers and two outdoor pools.  The pool at Scott Carpenter Park is a 50 meter pool.)
Rocky Mountain National Park (44 m. from Boulder) and Indian Peaks Wilderness Area (on the Continental Divide- 70 m. from Boulder) are nearby.

Even though I am in Boulder on vacation, I confess to feeling a bit of pressure!! Yesterday I wanted to go for a short run on the Creek Path.  My calves were sore from hiking.  But, a short run didn't seem enough, so I pushed an extra mile or so.  It was almost as if I was worried that the recreation "police" would evict me from their fine city!  

Tubing and wading in Boulder Creek

Clearly, children are raised into this lifestyle.  When I was strolling through Chautauqua yesterday afternoon, I walked past a kid's birthday party.  There were two entertainers, so I stopped to listen.  They were telling a story/singing about taking a walk to find birthday gifts in nature.  The one singer came across a bobcat den, which prompted a song- The Bobcat Walk.  Next, the other singer sat on a log (which was actually the first singer in a log costume) which led to a song about trees and decomposers.  I left after that. At the park, there are rocks and climbing areas for kids.  Same in town.  There's also a kid's fishing pond, stocked with trout.  Kids on bikes; kids with backpacks. Recycling and trash bins are abundant, and labeled for appropriate sorting.  The bin that makes me cringe is the one labeled "landfill".

But, there is a balance, and a sadness.  Alongside of all the organic produce and gluten free products at the farmer's market are delicious breads, pastries, burgers and ice cream.  Brewpubs abound!  And, according to my guidebook and a friend, the best margaritas in the world can be found at the Rio Grande in downtown Boulder.  As elsewhere in the world, Boulder is not immune to a problem with homelessness.  In the parks, along the creek path, and in the streets, are many homeless people.  Perhaps this healthful-minded city will find a solution.

The Flatirons

The small "village" of the Colorado Chautauqua sits at the base of the Flatirons, five mountains that resemble old-fashioned irons. The rocks are made of sandstone, approximately 290 million years old.

I wasn't going to hike at all today because my calves are sore from the hills of the last two days.  But, outside my door are miles of trails and these incredible mountains.  So, after a short run on the Boulder Creek Path, I ate breakfast, laced up old running shoes, and headed into the hills again.  I'm beginning to understand the lure of long days on the Appalachian Trail, or any other trail.  

I finished reading A Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes.  To coincide with my stay here in the mountains, tomorrow I plan to start Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail by Cheryl Strayed.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flatirons

              

Colorado Chautauqua

A Brief History- The Chautauqua Movement is named for the Chautauqua Institute on Lake Chautauqua in western NY state.  The movement started in 1874 as a summer school for Sunday school teachers, and quickly spread to include all kinds of adult education.  Many towns, especially in rural areas, began to establish "chautauquas"- gatherings for educational, cultural and recreational activities.   At its peak in about 1915, approximately 12, 000 towns had hosted a chautauqua.  

The Colorado Chautauqua began as a partnership with the Texas Board of Regents in the late 1890's.  The city of Boulder agreed to provide land, facilities and public utilities to create a summer school for teachers.  The location was selected for its "spectacular mountain setting and cool climate".

Today, the Colorado Chautauqua is the only continuously operating chautauqua west of the Mississippi, the only year round Chautauqua, and the only one whose grounds are free and open to the public.  There are numerous hiking trails, an auditorium featuring popular concerts and lectures, and a "dining hall" with a wrap-around porch for viewing the evergreens and mountains.  A visitor can rent an apartment, a cottage, or an entire lodge for a family reunion.

My note- After only one day at C.C., I will say it's incredible.  Last night, I sat on the porch of the dining hall and had Rocky Mountain trout with white grits and green beans, followed  by Berry Pie.  Today (Wednesday) I started the day with a cup of tea in my hand, soaking in the fresh air and mountain views.  Then, I took a hike, first on Bluebell Trail, then on Mesa Trail.  I walked to Boulder (all downhill), browsed, and shopped for groceries.  Laden with bags, I took a cab- too much to carry all uphill!  After dinner I went for a stroll through the grounds.  It was quieter tonight than last night since there was no concert, but still many people were dining, walking, hiking. 

Rest Stop in Sedgwick

The ride across Nebraska on Rt. 80 is flat, predictable, and awe-inspiring.  There are acres upon acres of farmland and open space.  On the highway, there are trucks and service areas.  All very predictable.

Once I crossed into Colorado, though, I had to leave Rt. 80 and take Rt. 76 to head southwest toward Denver and Boulder.  I think there should be a warning sign at the entrance on to Rt. 76.  Something like:  "Be sure you have a full tank of gas, and do not panic.  You will not see any signs of habitation for miles, but eventually you will."  A sign like that would be reassuring because Rt. 76 is empty. There were a few cars and trucks, which I was glad about, but that was all.  Even though I had a half tank of gas, I started to get tense. 

When I reached the town of Sedgwick and saw a sign for gas, I pulled off the highway.  There was a dusty parking lot, a small cafe, a gas station (with a spotlessly clean bathroom) and a boarded up building across from the station.  I was prepared to pump my own gas, but I was unprepared for a gas pump that had a lever on the left side that I had to pull toward me first in order for the gas to flow.  Honestly, I stood a couple of minutes, tried the pump, and with a stroke of luck got it to work.  When I went to pay, the woman inside the station chuckled and said, "I was about to come out and help you, but you figured it out."  

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sedgwick_County,_Colorado

Omaha, NE

Today I drove from Chicago to Omaha. The entrance to Rt.90 in Chicago was blocked due to a truck accident, so instead of hopping from 90W. to 80W. I ended up on Rt. 88 across Illinois.  The ride was fairly pleasant, but lots of roadwork often slowed my driving speed. Once I got on 80 I was able to relax and enjoy the scenery of beautiful cornfields and farms. The land did not look as dry as I expected based on information in the newspaper.

My hotel for tonight is in somewhat of a warehouse area, 1.5 miles outside of  downtown Omaha. Fortunately, the hotel provides a shuttle service, which I gladly took to the Old Market area- touristy spot with restaurants and shops. I chose the Upstream Brewing Company.  Wise decision!  For dinner:  house salad with a thick slab of beer bread; Omaha steak burger with Cheddar cheese and fries; Firehouse Red Lager as a side.  How could I go wrong? (The restaurant and brewery occupy an old firehouse,which actually burned partially due to a fire years ago.)

Until another time, that's it for me and Omaha.  Tomorrow, on to Boulder!

The Taste of Chicago

The Taste of Chicago is the world's largest food festival held each year in mid-July in Grant Park (which is also home to the huge concert, Lollapalooza). This year, 36 restaurants participated, along with specialty pop-ups and different celebrity chefs each day.  There's music, entertainment, activities for kids. I timed my drive to Colorado to coincide with this event, and today was our day to attend.

Admission to The Taste is free.  To sample the food, however, you buy groups of tickets and then use the tickets to pay for food and drinks.  (12 tix for $8) You can buy large plates of food (a meal) for 8 or 9 tickets, or a "taste" for 3-6 tickets.  Generally, the vendors offered different samplings for the large and "taste" portions.  We decided to go with the small plates, and in the three hours we walked around (interrupted by a 30 minute downpour), we sampled a fair amount of delicious food.  

Sabor Latino- Steak Mini Jibarito (steak between fried plantain cakes)

Star of Siam- Potstickers (We did not have the pad thai, even though it looked great.)

Austrian Bakery- Mini Schnitzel Sandwich; Altwiener Appelstrudel (both amazing)

Carbon Live Fire Mexican Grill- Tequila-lime Marinated Grilled Chicken Breast Taco (like being in Mexico)

Dominick's Finer Foods- Watermelon slice to refresh our palates

Iyanze- Hibiscus Sorbet

Pazzo's- Chopped Salad on Romaine Hearts

The Smoke Daddy- Pulled Chicken Mini

Music Tent- soul/swing music.  I needed a West Coast Swing partner!

Then, we had to decide how to spend our remaining tickets.  Jen wanted another taco and a sweet.  I wanted a sample of Eli's cheesecake.  We were able to sample all three.

Carbon- see above

Eli's Cheesecake Company- a small sample of plain

Churro Factory- 4 mini churros

Though some natives of Chi-town groaned when we said we were going to The Taste, it was a great day.  Definitely on the "Let's do this again" list.

http://www.explorechicago.org/city/en/supporting_narrative/events___special_events/special_events/mose/taste_of_chicago.html/

The Great American Road Trip

For years, I fantasized about driving cross country, NJ to California.  The southern route, the northern route.  I followed the blogs of the NY Times writer, Matt Gross, as he drove east to west, often to lesser known spots.  It seemed like such a grand adventure.  I had never gone cross-country in my 20's, but I could do it now that my kids were grown.   Then, the negative thoughts would surface:  sitting for endless hours; the cost; safety issues; the wear and tear on my car; maybe too much time alone. 

In April, I traveled to Colorado with a friend.  We went to Denver, Colorado Springs, and Boulder.  I fell in love with Boulder, which is no surprise to anyone who knows me.  I knew I wanted to return for an extended time.  When I got home, I did some research, weighed out the cost and convenience of flying vs. driving.  I talked with family and friends.  I checked with my mechanic.  Finally, I would take the drive, though ending in Colorado, not California.  Good enough!

Stop #1- Chicago to spend the weekend with my daughter.  Taste of Chicago and the beach (Lake Michigan).  The drive took a bit longer than I thought it would, but overall smooth going.  NJ- Pennsylvania- Ohio- Indiana- Illinois.  Route 80 W. all the Chicago, then route 90 W. into the city.  It's great to be here, for endless reasons.

Rocky Mountain National Park

Of course, I knew that Rocky Mountain National Park would be breath-taking. I've seen pictures; I've flown over the Rockies many times to visit family in California. But, that is nothing compared to the grandeur of seeing the mountains in person. There are tree-covered foothills and smaller mountains in the foreground, with dozens of peaks over 12,000 feet in the background. In the northern part of the mountain chain, the famous snow-covered Longs Peak rises to 14, 259, one of 53 "fourteeners" in the state of Colorado. When my friend and I drove into the park, my only thought was, "Why didn't someone urge me to get to RMNP sooner?"

Rocky Mountain National Park encompasses 415 square miles in the northwestern part of Colorado. The mountain chain itself is 2700 miles long, from Alaska to Mexico. In RMNP, a visitor can travel along the top of the range along the Trail Ridge Road, the highest major highway in North America. However, as you would imagine, the road is not always fully accessible, as was the case for me during spring break. Despite the fact that this winter the mountains had little snowfall overall and guides were already worried about water restrictions this upcoming summer, the highest part of the Trail Ridge Road was closed. While there are limitations to the park in April, the huge plus is the small number of people. Throughout an entire day of driving and walking with a friend, the total number of people we saw did not exceed twenty. I'm sure people hiking into the woods encountered fewer than that.

Shopping in New York?

I needed to get out of the burbs for a few hours, so I planned a Saturday morning of shopping and tango in NYC. Shopping meant: West Elm, City Bakery, Paragon Sports, and the Union Square Greenmarket. Tango: meant the morning practica at Dance Manhattan.

Once I got downtown, I stopped at Pain Quotidien, two doors from the 18th Avenue subway. (Last year when I took a tango class on Saturday mornings, I always went to this same spot, either for an apple muffin to go, or a bowl of steel-cut oats and fruit at the communal table. The woman behind the counter still remembered me. ) Next-- West Elm. As I walked, I noticed a line across the street, women mainly, waiting for a David Yurman sale, "30-60% off original prices". At West Elm, I selected two placemats and paid $3.47. Out of curiosity, I went to the David Yurman sale. There were at least 40 people in the sales area, compared to four or five at West Elm. The least expensive items were "specially priced merchandise", $250-$500. To purchase anything else would have required a small loan.

In the next block, I wandered into Books of Wonder, a fabulous children's bookstore. I happen to be re-reading Charlotte's Web, and noticed a copy in their "old and rare" collection. The book contained an inlaid bookplate signed by the illustrator, Garth Williams. The price: $2500. Another purchase I did not make. I crossed the street to City Bakery to buy their "Baker's Muffins" which are worth the trip into Manhattan even if you do nothing else. They're huge yeast muffins with cinnamon, raisins and apples @$4 each. Yum!

I walked another block to Paragon Sports to use a 20% off coupon I got at the Banff Film Festival. I was not successful there, and that was fine given that the sales tax in NYC would have eaten a significant part of the coupon. I looped through the greenmarket, bought Cameo apples, and admired all the cherry blossom branches (too inconvenient on the bus). On to tango.

At tango, the "shopping" is of a different nature. It's rarely comfortable to be a woman walking into a practica or milonga when you don't know any of the male dancers. Often, and especially in New York, guys want to have a sense of your ability before they ask you to dance. Even though I used to take classes at Dance Manhattan, it's been nearly a year since I went to the practice sessions. I recognized a few faces, all occupied. The best option was to take a seat and wait to be invited on to the dance floor. (Grrrr......no women's lib in tango!)

I wish I could say that my experience at the practica was pleasant and inspiring. But, it was not. The first dancer (whom I had met one other time) began to rub my back and neck while we danced, murmuring "why did we ever get out of bed this morning?" I played along, and we danced two sets together. He was clearly popular, with women circling him throughout the morning. The next guy walked away from me after one song saying that he "had to find someone else to practice with." (It is extremely rude to leave a partner before the tanda or set of songs is over.) Did I already say that egos can get very big on the tango floor? Who expects perfect connection after thirty seconds of dancing? The following partner was ok, though stepped on my toe. I accepted another dance with the back rubber, and kept up my "vamp" tango. At least he was a good dancer. The session wasn't exactly turning out how I had hoped, so during a break I packed up, blew a kiss, and returned home for a cup of tea and a baker's muffin that was worth the bus fare.

http://www.thecitybakery.com/

Tango

On Saturday I tried a new milonga. I had attempted to reach this venue once before, after Hurricane Irene. Roads were closed, and the detours led to more closed roads. After an hour and four phone conversations trying to get directions, I headed back home and stopped in at another friend's birthday party. This time, I wisely planned to meet other dancers at their home, and then ride in the back seat of their car.

With a GPS, the driver found the destination easily. Without a GPS, it would be nearly impossible. The building is in Sugar Loaf, NY, down a dirt road and not visible from the main street. It's a beautiful community/cultural center with artwork on the walls, and one side entirely windows. I was warmly welcomed by the host, and hugged by a dancer I haven't seen in two years. That night there were guest instructors, a well-known female instructor from NJ, Carolina Juarena, and a world champion from Columbia, Carlos Paredes. Now, to the heart of this post.

During the lesson, Carlos emphasized that the leader (usually male) needs to look at the woman (the follower), and make a connection with her. The leader's goal is to be sure the follower is comfortable during the dance. And if there is a mistake, it is not anyone's fault. Try again, keep dancing, have fun. And yet... many leaders do not seem to follow this practice and it seems a shame. I had one dance that night that turned out to be unnecessarily stressful as I attempted to follow leads into tricky steps with a man I did not know while dancing in close embrace. Many tango dancers would blame the leader in this situation, with the argument that if he leads correctly, I will be able to follow. True enough. But why even create a situation where the dance is ruined?

A possible answer may be the marked contrast between the way professionals dance vs. the "average" non-professional dancers (most of us!). In Argentina, my instructor regularly reminded his students that professional stunts belonged on the stage, not on a social dance floor. Maybe it's too difficult to resist the fantasy of looking as good as the pro's.

http://www.carolinadancer.com/
 

Merry Christmas

In the locker room at the Y this morning, another woman and I chatted about how we had to take down our Christmas trees today. She informed me that for many people, January 6, or Three Kings Day, marks the true end of the holiday season. She briefly summarized the story of the kings, and concluded with the warning that it was simply bad luck to take down the tree before the twelve days of Christmas passed. For me, last weekend was filled with holiday activities and there was no time during the week between work and dance, so I planned for today. However, with a day filled with sunshine and the warmth of 60 degrees, my tree remains standing, and still decorated. Sigh.

This holiday marked the return of two past traditions: dinner at Union Square Cafe in NYC, and attending The Nutcracker at Lincoln Center. My kids and I managed to time our dinner at Union Square to coincide with an absolute downpour. We planned an easy walk from the Chelsea Market to the restaurant. However, that idea changed when by 5pm, it was pouring. Umbrellas offered no protection from rain coming down sideways, and after two blocks we were soaked! We were lucky to get a cab! I will say that the dinner was worth it, but I won't rush back. Service was as good as ever, the restaurant as beautiful as ever, and the food very good, though somewhat drab on the plates.

My son declined a ticket to the ballet, so it was just "the girls." Of all the Christmas activities, The Nutcracker is arguably the most splendid. The music for this ballet was written by Pyotr Tschaikovsky, and adapted from E.T.A. Hoffman's story, The Nutcracker and the Mouse King. Tschaikovsky wrote three ballet scores: Swan Lake, Sleeping Beauty and The Nutcracker. The first full-length, two act version of the ballet was presented by the San Francisco Ballet in 1944. (The first time I saw The Nutcracker was, in fact, in San Francisco at the Opera House!) George Balanchine's version premiered in NY in February, 1954. Ten years later, the NYC Ballet moved to its present location and redesigned the ballet. From 1964 till now-- almost a 50 year tradition of The Nutcracker during the holiday season! Jen and I loved every minute of the performance from the "growing" Christmas tree, the battle with the Mouse King, the ribbon dancers, Mother Ginger, and my favorite, the pas de deux between the Sugar Plum Fairy and her Prince.

By the way-- After the ballet, we ate at Nick and Toni's Cafe on 67th Street. (Same owners as the fancy Nick and Toni's in East Hampton.) Salads, soups, pizza, and full dinners. Since it was late, we had pizza, salad and roasted local vegetables. All wonderful. Beware though- my beer was $9!
http://www.nickandtoniscafe.com/