Adventures with Wild Greg

Un Snorkeling to Make Underwater Ocean Observation More Enjoyable

March 4, 2017 by Laura Blodgett 3 Comments

Discovering Un snorkeling is one of the great benefits of all the swimming in my Fastlane current generated water has been. I wasn’t sure how to spell it. It might be technically better to write “un-snorkeling.” I think the hyphen helps with word recognition. Regardless, you are probably wondering what un-snorkeling is.

Un-snorkeling is like snorkeling in the aspect that it is: floating around in the ocean looking under water to see underwater creatures. However, while un-snorkeling I just wear my swim goggles. This keeps my nose and mouth free to function, just as they normally do while swimming. (click on any photo to enlarge)

The differences between snorkeling and un-snorkeling

As I float around looking underwater, I blow bubbles at a relaxed rate, casually lifting my head for air exchange as needed. This might seem inconvenient to some people, but snorkel masks make me feel claustrophobic. I never feel I am getting enough air through the snorkel. It also constrains the angle at which I can hold my head.

When waves wash up over it, it is challenging to know just when and how to blow out the salt water, to avoid inhaling it. It is always harder for me to position a snorkel mask for an adequate seal against water leakage. Plus, it tends to fog up from the inevitable attempts I make at using my nose to breathe.

Taking a breath while un-snorkeling doesn't take very long if you are relaxed. — Taking a breath while un-snorkeling doesn’t take very long if you are relaxed.

I don’t have any of these problems when un-snorkeling. I can turn my head which ever direction I want. My swim goggles have less surface area they are trying to seal with. Between this, my nose not being under them, and the fact that there are fewer facial muscles around my eyes that I am likely to move, I rarely have leakage issues.

How I discovered un-snorkeling

Last year, I was at a tropical beach, not expecting to go on any underwater exploration. However, when my husband was checking out a rock formation down at one end of the beach, he ventured into the surface and noticed some fun fish gathering around. He wanted me to go look, but all we had was my one pair of swim goggles, which we took turns using.

Almost immediately, we both recognized how much more comfortable I was doing it this way. I declared I would only be “un-snorkeling” from now on. I much preferred breathing on my own terms. With the salt water providing so much more buoyancy, there was only as much swimming effort as I decided to engage in. And, even that was easier than with a snorkel set-up, because there was no snorkel and mask to interfere with comfortable swimming form.

Getting to be comfortable in the water

Both my current mode of swimming and swimming in my Fastlane generated current have helped me learn to relax in the water and develop calm breathing while I swim. Like with most aerobic conditioning, swimming ability can be gradually improved by simply swimming at a comfortable pace. You may enjoy occasional bursts of speed, but those are not necessary for the average swimmer. Swimming under stress tends to inhibit aerobic conditioning.

Cleaning the underwater parts of my pool ladder probably increased my breathing capacity, too. Blowing bubbles is not just good practice for kids learning to swim. I made a bit of a game out of seeing how long I could stay down without feeling too desperate for air. I tried to avoid reaching the surface so air deprived that I needed to take a long break above water. I liked finding a rhythm where I could go back down over and over after just a couple of breaths above water.

Verifying un-snorkeling

I un-snorkeled again and several times during our recent trip to Cozumel. This confirmed my initial decision to be an un-snorkeler! I could just float in the superman pose for as long as I wanted, then lift my head in any direction to reload my air supply. I could swim more quickly from place to place, including getting to shore.

Going out in to the ocean is always a bit scary for me, but feeling more in charge of my air flow and not being encumbered by marginally helpful equipment made it a much nicer experience. My husband still prefers to use a snorkel, but he is fully supportive of me not struggling with one. If you struggle at all with a snorkel and mask, maybe you should try un-snorkeling?

It is easier to communicate with people around you without a snorkel and mask!

One Day on the Rapids of the Cabarton Run of Payette River

September 5, 2016 by Laura Blodgett Leave a Comment

I am not totally sure what about river rafting makes me feel panic. I know how to swim. I am used to being in the wild outdoors. I am even fairly familiar with the mechanics of paddling a boat, as I demonstrated during our canoe trip on Salmon Falls Creek. Whatever it is, I had to make a determined effort not to be overwhelmed by the thought of our latest adventure for the month it was in the planning stages.

For the last couple of days before we went on this first river rafting trip, I occasionally allowed myself to mention my anxiety to my husband. Each time, he would smile gently at me and commend my efforts at keeping it under control. And then I would try to distract myself with other things.

When the day arrived, it was harder to stay distracted. I wasn’t much help getting things set up or blowing up rafts. Mostly, I stood around watching it all in what seemed like slow motion. A disaster that was unfolding before my eyes, but I could do nothing to stop. And then the only choice left was to step into the raft.

I was initially told I would need to straddle the balloon-like side of the raft, at which I balked. Then, it turned out that my raft had 5 other people to row, so there really was no good spot for me other than the front center position. Even with my inexperience, I was suspicious that this was not the most relaxing place on the raft, if there is such a place. I asked if I was going to get more wet than anyone and was cheerfully assured I would. However, I would be sitting between my husband and a daughter, so it was the best I could do.

Our guide was a good friend, whom we have been on various adventures with. He really did want me to have fun. The combination of his friendship and experience probably helped me relax more than I would have with an unknown guide.

I didn’t get much exercise on the trip, unless you count screaming, shaking from cold, or being tense from being knocked this way and that on the rapids. This all had to be good for my abs and lung capacity. Like singing. Oh, there was some stress-relief running and bee-swatting on the beach we had lunch at.

Here is a 13 minute video of the rafting trip, which in real time took all afternoon.

Would I go again? Not without some coercing and, again, with just the right people that I felt I could trust to know how to handle the raft and handle my anxieties. Still, I have to admit that just having done it once gives enough familiarity with it all to make it less panic inducing. Now I have some idea of what to expect and how to handle the unexpected, like someone getting knocked overboard. Which did happen, but it wasn’t me. I’m told the main thing to remember is NOT to try to stand up in fast moving water, because your feet can easily get caught in the rocks while the current pulls you down. Maybe, if there is a next time, I will try rowing.

Speed Interval Workout with .10 Mile Markers on Kingfisher Trail

July 12, 2016 by Laura Blodgett 2 Comments

I have written previously about a more relaxed attitude toward speed workouts, to avoid both injury and burnout. Recently, I felt I had consolidated my stamina at the 8 – 12 mile range such that introducing a more dedicated speed interval workout might be safely done. Still, it was with some trepidation that I embarked on the planned speed interval, 6 mile run on Kingfisher Trail. (click on any photo to enlarge)

This trail borders one side of Lake Lowell, a man-made reservoir in my home town of Nampa, Idaho. The trail is really more of a gravel road, with expanses of farmer’s fields along one edge and lakeside scrub brush and gnarly trees on the other. But, most importantly in this case, it has reliable markers every tenth of a mile. If you know what to look for.

Fortunately, my husband/coach does know what to look for. He also came up with our overall speed interval plan, which was:

warm up 2 miles
fast .2 miles
recover .4 miles
repeat intervals for a total of 5 intervals
cool down 1 mile

I wore my Luna sandals, which still gave me plenty of feedback from the sharp and unpredictable road gravel. My goal was to combine increasing speed with maintaining a smooth, floating form. Being able to feel the gravel helped remind me to stay light on my feet, minimizing impact.

My husband reminded me that one goal of the intervals was to find a speed that felt somewhat hard, but could be maintained until the end of each segment. Also, it is best if the intervals are all about the same speed, which concentrates the effect to a level that can later be used for longer distances. For this first speed interval workout in quite a while, I decided to err on the side of a bit too slow, to make sure I wouldn’t pull any muscles.

The .10 mile markers begin at the Kingfisher Trail trail head, which is just below a large, dirt parking lot. There is a wide spot in the road right at the sign, too, that is suitable for parking. If you are facing the road, Kingfisher Trail goes off to the left.

This sign is at the beginning of Kingfisher Trail. Lake Lowell is just beyond the trees, and the larger parking lot is up to the right (in the photo).

The road is basically continuous around that side of Lake Lowell, but is designated as 3 separate trails. The one we ran on is the middle section. We began on its more western end, which can be found at the terminal end of Greenhurst Road. The trail/road is blocked off to normal traffic, however an Idaho Fish and Game truck needed to pass us during this run. They were very polite about it, and asked how far we were running so they could adjust their weed spraying to our convenience!

One reason we started at this particular end of Kingfisher Trail is that the other end tends to have more issues with overspray from field sprinklers that time of morning. That other end of the trail/road begins at a paved parking area at the end of Tio Lane, a side street further east off of Locust Lane, which is a mile south of Greenhurst. The first portion of the trail there is also not immediately alongside the lake. All of it is considered Deer Flat National Wildlife Refuge.

One of the Kingfisher Trail mileage markers around Lake Lowell in Nampa, Idaho.

So, there we were, our Strava apps all synced and the sun shining. I was given a head start, as I am relatively slower than my husband. He was also just warming up at a relaxed pace, but soon caught up with me and began pointing out the mileage markers. Some were quite easy to see, sticking up far enough out of the bordering tall grass. Other markers were partially surrounded and shaded by thickets of shrubs. Once I learned how they looked different from the ubiquitous metal fence post, and got a feel for what a tenth of a mile felt like, I was able to find most of them on my own.

I prefer doing speed workouts with distance rather than time. It is more motivating for me. I can get inspired to push myself just a tad more if I know the end of the interval is in sight. There is more of a sense of reward. Having the real-life markers meant not trying to listen for specific beeps on a gadget and added an element of gaming to it, since I had to scan the horizon for the goal.

There is one benefit to not being the one in front. My husband always found the interval mileage marker first, then jogged back to meet me and cheered me on to the end. Of course, that also meant he got longer recovery times. This is a fact of life if I want to run with him sometimes, because he is just stronger and faster. Did I mention he always measures off the chart for maximum VO₂, for those of you who know about that?

He wore his Garmin for timing his intervals. I did not. I really needed to go just by feel this first time, but I think I will try to use it next time, if I can do it without interfering with my effort. I can just see myself struggling to push the correct button and not getting any useful information, but ending up frustrated in no useful way.

We turned around at the 3 mile point, which was conveniently at the end of a speed interval. The weed spraying was going on off in the distance, and I thought about trying to wave more thanks, but just got back to the workout instead. Something about catching my breath.

The cool down last mile, also the first mile, was more hilly than the rest of the trail, but not so much as to cause burning thighs or painful gasping. I slowed down somewhat, but didn’t feel stressed by the rolling terrain. At least none of them were terribly long uphills or downhills. Just having moderate variation made it easier. (I saw a wild bunny rabbit along there, who sat in the trail a while as I approached.)

Me, post-speed interval workout, enjoying the lake view. It is all about comfort for running attire. The hip bag you can just barely see in front is to hold my phone with the Strava app. Running smoothly means I don't even notice the hip bag, since it isn't flapping around. — Me, post-speed interval workout, enjoying the lake view. It is all about comfort for running attire. The hip bag you can just barely see in front is to hold my phone with the Strava app. Running smoothly means I don’t even notice the hip bag, since it isn’t flapping around.

It was encouraging to note that at the end of the 6 miles, I felt like I could have kept going at my moderate, comfortable pace. I took that as a good sign that I didn’t over do it. I was curious to know what my legs would feel like the next two days, though, and that thought helped hold me in check from being cavalier about extending the total mileage.

The next day, I ran about 2 miles. The day after that I ran 14 miles. The last run of the week, on Saturday morning, was also 2 miles. All of these runs were at an easy pace. I was tired, but nothing was strained or achy. We even went out for a bit of dancing on Saturday evening. Full disclosure is that I ended up needing a lot of sleep over the weekend, including a couple good naps.

The real surprise came when I ran my first run the following week. For reasons that I won’t go into now, I was a bit on the agitated side for that Monday’s run. I knew I was going out a bit fast, but I also knew I was within a pace that my legs could handle for a little while. So I proceeded.

As it turns out, I ran all 8.1 miles about 45 seconds per mile faster than I had been regularly doing for this distance. I did not feel like I was straining to breath while running, nor did I feel wiped out after the run. I definitely felt like I was trying, and I don’t think I will be maintaining that level of effort for every run, however, it was inspiring to see what I was capable of while still not having any sore muscles the next day. I’m going to say the speed workout was at least part of the reason this happened.

The plan is to use Kingfisher Trail for regular speed interval workouts for a while. We are signed up for the FitOne half marathon in mid September, in Boise. We might as well put our best foot forward. I plan on running the race barefoot and having fun at the best speed I can. My husband’s main goal is always to try to beat all the women. I think we both have a good shot at meeting our goals.

Revisiting the Crooked River Trail Barefoot in Early June

June 14, 2016 by Laura Blodgett Leave a Comment

We found the Crooked River Trail 2 years ago last January. There was lots of snow and we were the only crazy group out there that day. This last Saturday was a balmy day in June, with early morning temperatures in the low 50’s °F, and comfortable highs in the mid 70’s °F. It was sunny with intermittent clouds, but there was also regular significant shade from trees.

Since we (I speak as the queen), knew where we were going this time, we didn’t spend any scouting time on other trails looking for the Crooked River Trail. When we arrived at the trail head, it was obvious from the full parking area that lots of other people know where it is, too. The parking is just a bulge in the road that accommodates a single line of about 8 cars, maybe more if some of them had been more efficient parkers. We were able to find reasonable enough parking at the Beaver Creek Trail sign, roughly 100 yards up the road. Don’t quote me on that, but we could see the other cars from where we were and it only took a few minutes to walk over there. This was the exact place we had crossed on foot from Beaver Creek Trail to Crooked River Trail on that cold, snowy day. (click on any photo to enlarge)

This chipmunk was also barefoot. He let us walk very close before he moved!

I did not know until 10:30 PM the night before that I would be going on this Saturday hike. Thus, I had gone ahead with my planned 13.1 mile barefoot run that Friday. Needless to say, I was a bit tired Saturday. It is the longest distance I have run in a while, so my soles were a bit sensitive on Saturday. I opted for wearing my Moc3’s (see the ad for Soft Star shoes in the sidebar to the right) with light weight wool Injini toe socks. My two 20 something girls, however, hiked barefoot all but a short section that had large, sharp gravel in abundance.

The first few feet of the trail was a steep, sandy descent down from the road to the path along the Crooked River. From there, it was storybook scenic, with a few dystopian distortions, such as the solid plank foot bridges that were twisted sideways and sagging over the first tributary creek. They ended up being more solid to walk on than they looked, but I still wasn’t keen to have more than one person’s weight on them at a time.

Crooked River trail is pretty perfect for about 3 miles. This is before we crossed the larger bridge.

One beautiful thing about this trail was that it was very close to Crooked River the whole time. Some trails only lead to water at the end, or occasionally taunt the hiker with glimpses in the distance, or even bully the hiker with a rushing cold water crossing. Not so this river. This river, though wide and energetic, rolled alongside in a friendly way, like a hiking partner singing a merry tune.

There was one more bridge, that actually crossed the river itself about 45 minutes into the hike. It looked and felt very sturdy. This was good, since it was not a river to be crossed easily otherwise. Except possibly using the huge pile of logs that we saw the marmot climbing on and through. But as I watched him scamper nimbly over them, I was envious of physical traits for balance that I do not possess, such as the body low to the ground and a slinky, fluid way of moving. I would need extra little feet on my knees to even come close to doing that. Weird visual, I know.

A more open view of Crooked River from the trail.

For over 3 miles, we hiked along a classic forest trail. When it wasn’t slightly damp and covered in pine needles, it crossed through sunny spots with riots of wildflowers and kamikazi butterflies. I had worn a bright, peachy-pink sweatshirt, thinking it would be easy to find me if I got separated from the group. This confused the butterflies, who would fly in their haphazard, wonky way toward my face. Maybe they thought that was the center of the flower? They would get about a foot from me and, as I was giggling and trying to duck, they would swerve-wobble-fly in another direction. This happened at least 20 times.

Even the tops of the stepping stone rocks were slippery with all the sand!

Around mile 3.8, the trail took on it’s Mr. Hyde personality. It was like I went through the wrong door in the fairytale. All of a sudden it was steep and sliding sand mixed with loose rocks along a treacherous drop to the river. I ended up taking off my moccasins and socks for this part, and my balance and traction were much better that way. I used my hands a lot, too, especially since my legs were really starting to feel fatigue with the climbing.

A daring photo opportunity overlooking the Crooked River from a precipice.

Our daughters and the 4 young men in our hiking group had gone ahead by this point, though their speed had resulted in some bloody scrapes all over arms and legs for one young man. Finally, I began to express the truth of my current condition, which my husband quickly agreed to. He told me to start back while he went to find the “kids.” Remaining barefoot, I patiently made my way down the sifting sand, only having a few panicking twilight-zone moments where I thought I had lost the trail in the beige-gray of the surrounding sand.

These yellow, daisy like flowers remind me of Rudebekia

Once I had made it to more moderate environs, I still stayed barefoot for a while. There was no one to keep up with, so I sauntered, relishing various sensations on my soles. After a bit, though, my soles reminded me that they needed a break, so I brushed the loose dirt off and tucked them back into the moccasins. I thought of my 12 mile barefoot run to Stack Rock and thought it very likely I could have enjoyed this whole trail barefoot under different circumstances. It would be a good trail for a run, too.

An unidentified purple flower similar to a foxglove?

I hiked alone for an hour and 40 minutes, although the description “alone” is relative. There were many other hikers, fishermen (almost got hooked by a fly-fisherman casting), back-packers, and even a couple of toddlers on the trail. The toddlers were pretty near the trail head, so I can’t say how far they went. There were also a few dogs with their masters. Most of them were off-leash, but all but one were friendly. For that unnerving encounter, I had stepped off to the side, down-slope, to let a larger group pass by me. When I turned around to watch them go by, I found myself nearly face to face with a medium sized dog that I had not previously noticed. It seemed to see something in my eyes that triggered aggression. It’s owners seemed quite surprised by it’s behavior, but told it in no uncertain terms to just move along. I think I will try to remember to step to the upslope side from now on.

A striking red flower. I thought it was more fun to take photos of single flowers to see the uniqueness of each.

My husband caught up with me by running for nearly 30 minutes. He left the young people behind, but not too far behind. They arrived at the car within 10 minutes of us, fairly dirty, but mostly dried off from their water fun at the turn around point.

I reminded my husband about the yummy hamburgers at Donna’s Place in Idaho City. He had shared his meager trail mix with me, but it had been 7 and a half hours since a meal. You can believe that after 4 plus hours of hiking over 8 miles, the day after running a half marathon distance, I was hungry!

And a Crooked River selfie after I have made it back down the steepest sections.

I needed to take it easy for the next couple of days. My legs felt similar to how they have felt after a long race. Sunday, I only did a little gardening, then Monday I did a lot of walking while spraying weeds, swam about 1/2 a mile, and accomplished other active household chores. I had to smile that all of that was still taking it easy. I was feeling the benefits of maintaining an active life routine.

7 Hours in a Canoe on Salmon Falls Creek

May 24, 2016 by Laura Blodgett 1 Comment

This last Saturday, May 21, 2016, was spent paddling nearly constantly for 7 hours on Salmon Falls Creek. We began at a rest area about 3 miles south of Jackpot, Nevada. We “floated” north, until the edge of the reservoir. It was an estimated 11 miles.

I think I should begin with some cautions:

This is not a trip for novices with a canoe. It is a long stretch, a lot of it through canyon, all of it without close access to the highway.
The creek may not have been deep, but the water was moving swiftly.
The water was cold.
I am told there was a sign warning about the diversion dam and the need to “portage” (walk the canoes a bit along the shore). I never saw it, but I heard the rush of water and it was frightening. It was even more concerning when I saw it.
The constant bends and turns meant constant steering, especially because the water was quite high and kept the canoe moving.
One guide book talked about making it a two day trip, with camping in the middle. We did not see any place that looked very nice to camp in. This may have been because the water was unusually high for this time of year.
One of our group capsized at just over the half way point. This meant a few hours to go being quite chilled, but there was no better way to get to the cars than to keep going down the river to the exit point.
It was good to be part of a group.

In the video below, you won’t see the several times when current rammed us nose first into thickets or weedy mud banks. That is because I do not have one of those Go-Pro cameras. Yet. Thus, you will also not hear the multiple times that dear hubby managed to yell gently, but still somewhat frantically “DON’T LEAN!” when my face was being whipped by shrubs. You will not hear the panic the couple of times the current caught the canoe in a tipping spin.

You will be able to see the vultures circling and hear some birds singing, because it was during the occasional calm moments when I could grab the camera for a few seconds. Or when we were pulled into a cove waiting, since our longer canoe seemed to really get speedy if we could keep it going in the right direction.

I have to think that I benefited from all my time swimming in the current in my swimming pool. I think it gave me a more intuitive sense of what the water was doing. Also, the moderate weight lifting I did in later winter, combined with gardening and swimming left me feeling stronger to paddle than I was anticipating. It did also help to hold the paddle correctly…

Here is our day long trip condensed into 10 minutes of video –