Tetons: Moody mountain range

From the Taggart Lake trail...

Stormy.

Still stormy.

From Jackson Dam:

Sunny.

These will all enlarge with a click.

The Tetons: Best bike ride ever?

This is a stitched image, shot while I caught my breath on the trail.

Ever since I saw the bike path by the Grand Teton Mountain Range, I wanted to ride it. And last week, I lived the dream with my family. We kept it simple--nobody did more than they felt comfortable doing, but you couldn't beat the view. I thought it couldn't get any better.

Then we biked in Yellowstone to the Lone Star Geyser. And even though we didn't hit it while an eruption was going on, it was wonderful, too. I didn't take the camera that time. I should have.

The unexpected benefit to all this: I had an extra day of vacation when we got home, plus some new confidence. I didn't get out on the bike much last year, and I hadn't yet dared do my favorite loop this year because... I'll admit it... I was probably in the worst shape of my life when winter ended.

But after living my dream in two of my favorite places on Earth, I tried the Franklin run, too.

I can't tell you how good it felt to coast that last hill, smelling the flowers and fresh-cut hay. I was so happy, I took the scenic route back, too. Twenty miles, and I was still conscious at the end of the day.

I'm gonna have to do that again.

Bison

I just returned from Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks. Most of the photos will need some processing, but I couldn't resist posting this one now. This fellow walked down the road and seemed to want to herd the van for a second or two. He and his friend were intimidating creatures.

We were lucky. The herd that followed those two created a traffic jam a couple of miles long in the other lane.

I want you all to know, I didn't get out of the car to get this close. I'm not that knuckleheaded.

If pizza doesn't fix it, you've got a real problem

Photo courtesy of my sister, Ilene Olson. Isn't her work wonderful?
Adrian, this and the other photos in this post are for you.

This week I woke up wondering how to solve a volunteering problem. Husband and I chair the Fourth of July committee in our little town, and we have for two years (we assisted the year before that). As volunteering jobs go, it's not bad. It centers around one event, and when that event is over you're done for most of a year.

But we hadn't found anyone to take it over, and I was wondering how many more holidays we'd be giving up.

We would also have one more meeting before the big day. Husband suggested we invite the whole committee over for pizza. And because he understands when I pour hours into my manuscript supports my passion I figured I'd better support his: pizza evangelism. 

We invited the committee over. Best turnout ever. I made sauce and stretched the dough Bret made the night before. He baked the pizzas. The kids ran the uncooked ones out the back door and brought the cooked ones back in, three and a half minutes later. (It was a cold night. The photos are actually from a different party in better weather.)

Ilene's work again. This is what happens when you put a good camera
in the hands of someone who knows how to use it.

While I assembled pizzas, I talked to the city councilman in charge of the July 4 celebration. "Before you leave, I need to give you a list of people to ask to take over as chair," I said. I had a much longer speech prepared, but he stopped me.

"We already have somebody," he said. "And she's here, by the pizza oven."

The law enforcement officers who will help with crowd control came, too, and with pizza in their hands, they didn't look stern at all. There was a lot of talking, eating and problem solving going on that night.

I'm usually happy to feed people, but it was a real joy that day. My conclusion: Pizza is better than chocolate at solving problems. And that's saying a lot.

Finally, I have some good photos. Thanks, Ilene!

Nightfall

I'm wishing you all a peaceful Memorial Day.

Apple blossoms

My friend Bobcat is practicing to be an apple tree model. How's she doing?

The long road to a great performance

I saw a choir performance this week that was so good, I was almost in tears. Great performances are even better when your child is one of the musicians, and you know the backstory.

Which is probably a lot like the backstory of any other performing group. It starts like this:

They were terrible.

At first, the kids were so cute, I didn't care if their raw talent was ... um... undetectable. But somewhere around age 11 or 12, I started noticing the technical flaws. I'd go to a middle school Christmas concert featuring a half-hour of off-key choir followed by a half hour of bad band and probably a full hour of three different levels of beginning orchestra. They sounded like howling cats on the back fence, but when my young violist said, "Wasn't that second song GREAT?" I smiled.

 "It sure was, Honey."

(That child has switched to cello. This year she performed in Honor Orchestra when they played Stravinsky, with feeling and on key.)

As my other girl's choir experience continued through the upper reaches of middle school, the teacher let them start doing solos. They'd dress up and belt out several off-key measures, while the rest of the singers provided backup. But at this point I noticed a change: The kids loved it! They cheered each other on like they were rock stars. They performed from their little gizzards, as my old piano teacher would have said. 

And the improvements kept coming, until this year I was sitting teary-eyed in a concert while the choir sang, a cappella and sweet and sad. (Music makes me an emotional wimp, but that's a whole other blog post.)  Then they did a swinging gospel number with a soloist who belted out a few perfect measures. 

They were wonderful. They owe it to Mrs. T., who has stayed with them since their middle school days. She helped them believe that they'd be great, and she was absolutely right.

Thanks, Mrs. T.