Christmas Vacation

Well, my initial Christmas break, a 10 day road trip to Baja did not work out. Within two hours of realizing the deadness of my Mexico trip, Momo had gifted me frequent flyer miles and I had an itinerary to travel to VT for break. Total dream. There is heaps of snow, many friends, a clean, dry, warm house, Switchback, Jay, Cassidy, my favorite hairdresser, and the list continues. I was not planning on heading back east until May. I don't know if it was a self challenge or what. Sort of like when I would travel abroad and never call home- what was the point? Prove toughness? Unclear. Right now I am biding my time in Lakeview before driving to Reno (like the Johnny Cash song) to gamble away the $100 my grandparents sent me and catch a redeye to BTV.

As you can imagine this trip home has put me in a good mood. This weekend was filled with South Central Oregon adventures. Highlights include:

• sweet, sweet snowshoe in Freemont National Forrest, at about 6,000 feet
• getting the nerve up to go to the bar on a Saturday night with the cowboy
• meeting a graduate of my neighboring alma mater in VT, a '67 Colchester Alum
• hearing rap music including the Nate Dog/Eminem song in a cowboy bar and me being the only one who thought it was funny
• every man in the room singing, full volume to Folsom Prison
• approaching an older guy who was missing a front tooth, who I thought was my neighbor's husband, turns out Dennis was only dating her when her husband was still in prison, he is the one who gave me the ugly, ugly chairs for my house that continue to sit on my front porch, he also asked me to flip with him, $1 a bet, the cowboy was like no, erin don't do it, I did it, I won the first flip and then lost the last three, and I had to buy him a beer. This guy Dennis is crazy.
• spending all day yesterday with the cowboy, we went on a 6 mile horseback ride, we moved the horses from a ranch he works at to California, it was beautiful, and very scary, I trotted a little, we rode over someone else's land and go yelled at, we watched a pickup with 20 bales of hay feed 100ish cows/steers/whatever
• during the horseback ride I was doing my best to look the part: boots, old jeans, corduroy jacket, leather gloves. I asked the cowboy if I looked like a cowgirl and responded, "No, you look like somebody at a dude ranch." A dude ranch is where people pay money to work. He couldn't understand this and then said, "I would never pay you to let me work on a computer."

Anyway, a great weekend. I did take photos of the ride and will post them at a later date.

Winter Solstice 2K7

Well, I am here at the office. All alone. No one is even on google chat. I am taking the next 2 weeks off from work and cannot seem to get anything done. The majority of the morning was spend chatting. And then a bit of work, lunch, more work, and now I am counting down. 4:45 and I'm out. I told Ronne Lindsay that I was going to 20 hours of work while in VT. She said, "Impossible." And then said do 10 hours if you want to. Do I want to? Not really. I am applying for grad school and skiing and drinking and basking in the sweetness of the East Coast.

I can't believe I moved to the West coast. Something I never thought I would do. And, although I am often lonely and isolated, I really like it and will be here for at least three years. Grad school at University of Oregon and maybe work after that?

Some more comments on Lakeview: I've met two families who have sons named Larry and Terry. What? And another family that has daughters named Andrea and Angela. Does this happen often? Is it a joke? I mean it is funny.

My Sunday PART I

Alright. Yesterday was pretty interesting. After a nice morning of talking to Momo, drinking coffee, and reading the New Yorker (which I receive on the cover date, which pisses me off but that is a different issue, for different time.) This cowboy, Larry, who is sort of courting me stopped by. I was in my pjs and he wanted to know why I hadn't called him to have a horseback riding lesson. I made a plan with him to play pool Monday night at 7 at the Eagle's Nest (no, not summer camp) the bar here in Lakeview. Fast-forward, I am in my car heading out of town to hike in the Fremont National Forest. Larry calls. I tell him what I am doing and he offers to come and to bring some guns to shoot. Ok. Sure. I turn around and pick him up.

We ride into the Forest which is only about 20 miles from town. I am nervous to shoot guns and decide to get psyched by putting on Good News for the People. At about song 7, Larry is like, "Is this music?" I respond with, "Yes, this is Modest Mouse." I mean, how could anyone listen to that album and not get excited, seriously. Larry then tells me he doesn't like mice.

We get to Mud Creek and get out of the car. We open the back and out of his saddlebag he takes two hand guns each in a holster with bullets all around the belt area. One of the guns looks like a old west toy and the other was sort of chunky and silver with a wooden handle. And then he asks me if I want to wear one. Absolutely. So I strap it on. And then he gives me a 357 magnum rifle gun. And he grabs the larger rifle gun.

And we start walking. It was a sight to see. There was Larry in all natural fibers: black cowboy boots with pointy toes and heels and no traction, tight jeans, flannel shirt, carhartt jacket, silk scarf around his neck, no gloves and a cowboy hat (not like the one you would picture, they are different here, they have a wide rim that is flat and the same distance from the middle.) And there I was, dressed for a solo hike, I was wearing crampon compatible winter hiking boots, gators, softshell pants and jacket (which are windproof and highly breathable), gloves, and a windproof fleece hat. So ridiculous.

And we walked and talked and examined animal tracts, and talked about guns, and snow was falling. Very, very peaceful. And every once in a while we (I, I always chose when) we would stop and shoot guns. Now, before yesterday I had only ever shot one gun. Once. I think I have only ever touched maybe three guns in my entire life. Let me tell you it is some rush to shoot a gun. The hand guns were really creepy in that I felt sort of like a cop and sort of like Charlie's Angels. There is some so palpable about the power you feel when you shoot a gun. I can't really imagine what it is like to hunt or be in the army and shoot some sort of enemy. Yuck. And then I shot one of the rifles. I like the rifle the best. My shots were not accurate which I blame on my eyesight. When I was shooting the rifle I kept thinking about bi athletes and how that must be close to impossible to have your heart at like 140 beats a minute and then slow down and shoot a target.

It was a enjoyable outing. And I am sure we will do it again. Next time, though, I am going to bring and wear earplugs.