The Experience of Heritage and Place in Sicily

Part I: Genetic Markers

Cathedral in Notto, Sicily

While being 100% Ethnic Mutt, there are a few pure origins in me. The first is cultural, my paternal grandparents are from Mexico; the next is ethnic, my maternal grandmother was full-blood Northern Italian. What I found in Sicily is that an impressive number of my natural tendencies seem to match closely with the Italian Genetic Code.
Piazza Duomo for Breakfast

First, and always first-thing, BREAKFAST. Most people consider it a bad and unhealthy habit of mine that breakfast consists of tea and brioche. Well, the Italians don’t and this traditional breakfast is the first manifestation of my Italian heritage. The best part of my vacation days was always at the café on the Piazza Duomo having tea and a croissant with the my Italian brothers and sisters.

While on the topic of ingestible items, my tastes seemed to match perfectly with Giusi’s. She determined early on that I always made the correct dining choice and left it to me to pick restaurants and sometimes even what she ordered. Fortunately, Giusi and I were soul sisters, with our tastes and humors closely aligned. It was a lot of pressure, but having the trust of Giusi in food selection was an honor I wouldn’t have deserved without my grandma’s Italian blood. Dinner with Giusi, Normal Guy, Phil and Lena (taking the picture).

I think this one was obvious before I left for Sicily, and I’ve always just chalked it up to being a girl, but I love shoes. So do the Italians. Memories for the rest of my life will pale in comparison to the shoe shopping treatment I received as Giusi’s shop, Millepiedi, where I sat in the middle of a hundred pairs of shoes trying to find that one pair that would work for the London pub crawl and a few extras just for fun. Not only do we Italians love shoes, but also we love the process of “discovering” them. Edwards' Italian shoes from Millepiedi

The final, but most fun, genetic match I discovered was a mutual love of the opposite sex. It is no secret that I love men. Love, love, love men! It was clear in Sicily that men love women, women love men, and there is absolutely NO SHAME in behaving as such. Compliments, attention, and eye-candy abound in this pheromone-enhanced culture. Any time I was without Edwards, I got to taste the charm that is Italian men and while I’m not sure exactly what the cute, blonde Sicilian was saying as he gave me a private tour of the Duomo, I did understand that he felt I was as beautiful as the Duomo itself. Ahhhh, I love being Italian! My favorite male specimen!

As a nod to Edwards (as this was meant to be “our” blog), the kind of rock and type of climbing available in Sicily also seems to match our preferences. If we were rich people, we’d be there now, restoring an old farmhouse, harvesting olives from mature trees, and climbing in a spectacular cave with undiscovered artifacts of the Byzantine known only to those strong enough to make it up the routes. Italy has no shortage of climbing to suit our physical needs and our lifestyle goals. Now, all we need is a mastery of the language and we’ll fit right in! Normal Guy on a very hard route in a very nice cave.

Tuco's Dramatic Role

Tuco has more friends around the globe than any dog before him, and he keeps seasonal residence with two families who love him very much in Salt Lake City and Santa Barbara. He turned 15 this month and is the picture of health, as Edwards detailed in a recent blog.

Tuco's got his own ideas on things and almost all of his actions are premeditated. Last night, he must have been after the Oscar for Best Dramatic Role.

Around a lot of details, I had to leave Tuco at home while I took Beata and Copper on a hike last night. When we left, he settled onto the kitchen floor. No biggie. When we got home 1.5 hours later, he had moved in the kitchen, left one small turd in his wake (not abnormal these days), and was still just hanging out. I put his food in front of him and he wasn't super stoked to eat, but he didn't seem anything outside of normal. Halfway through my movie I decided to go say hi to him. Oh no! The Rat was splayed out and his underbelly was drenched in, well, not sweat. Poor guy was panting and unable to support his weight to move or even get his legs under him. Well, I'm not a real reactionary, but with Edwards gone for just over 24 hours, Tuco was not giving up the ghost on my watch.

Kindly, our neighbors helped me get our stinky dog in the car. Everything at emergency care went as expected, which is to say, there isn't anything wrong with Tuco. He stayed the night so they could monitor his heart, which is 15% weaker than it should be, but here's the thing: "He doesn't want food." (ah, yeah, if you aren't frying up some fresh bacon, he probably isn't interested) and "He has gotten snappy" (EXCELLENT. Back to normal.)

When I picked him up today he was alert, walking, and happy to be heading home. He had also run up quite a tab! Oh well, like I said, he's not giving up the ghost on my watch!

He is weaker than normal and I'll continue to keep a close eye on him, but my feeling now is that this whole "I'm having a heart-attack" thing had less to do with reality and more to do with a big fat pout about Steve Edwards going on an adventure without him. (That's right honey, he knows what you are doing in Mexico and he doesn't like it!)

For everyone who knows and loves Tuco, he's OK. However, if you are in the area please make sure you come by and wish him a happy 15th year. At 105 human years, I'm not sure how many more chances you'll have.

Birthday Challenged

My anxieties were growing Friday night when I picked up my packet for the Moab Red Hot 33k. The room was buzzing with all kinds of “we love running” and “we love running together” energy. I felt lonely, but gave myself a cheesy little reminder to relax and focus on the fact that the challenge will be meaningless if I don’t learn more than I already know.

WHAT I ALREADY KNOW: I know that I can somehow finish a 33k. I know that I’m so good at judging myself that I can suck the joy right out of any experience.

WHAT I DON’T ALREADY KNOW: I don’t know if I can run 33k in less than six hours. I don’t know if I can quiet my self-judging little mind enough to enjoy it.


Off to a rocky start at the condo, my Birthday Challenge morning started out with a lot of fear and frowning. At the starting line, everything changed. Everyone was so… nice. Edwards, of course, knew people in the field and they immediately invited me to run with them. This little group split up within the first mile but their support got me off-and-running.

Next, there was a girl from Colorado whom I paced nicely with until the first aid station. It would be the furthest she had ever run as well and it felt good to have some company in the experience.After the first aid station we separated and I trotted on ahead.

After running alone for a little, I found another girl – not chatty – whom I would begin a game of “leap-frog” with. Looking back I guess I would have passed her and stayed ahead the whole race if she hadn’t gained advantage twice when I a. got off course and b. hit the deck when my right foot slipped in an icy little divot. I didn’t realize it because she’d taken her jacket off, but I passed her on the way to the finish line. She was walking. I hope she wasn’t injured and I do appreciate that she always gave me someone to chase after.

From mile 8-12 there was George. George runs with two walking poles and I was very envious (just imagine the pressure I could take off my hips if I had my own walking sticks)! George was super nice and tagged along behind me encouragingly for quite awhile. I thought maybe he was just going my pace, but then I saw a picture of my backside, which I believe explains his company a little better. With so much inspiring scenery, I'm flattered to have had George right behind me.

When Edwards met me at the halfway mark it was a curse and a blessing. First, the curse. When my man showed up something in me got all “girlie.” My man had arrived! How had I survived without him? How was I going to survive without him carrying me? No matter how much I tried to ignore it, I couldn’t help the emotional shift that happened when Husband got there. Mostly though, it was a blessing. He scouted the course, found easier routes, let me know the last aid station was a lot further than it was supposed to be, gave me water, talked to me, encouraged me, popped Cliff Blocks right into my mouth, and took pictures. He was just fantastic.

The elevation map they published pre-race was a bit of a sandbag. The steep uphill part was correct, but the steep downhill part? I guess if they mean the last 2.5 miles (not the last 9), sure… It made 6.5 miles a lot longer and harder than I had pictured, but, what was hard? The whole thing was quite miraculous. I was running, in spectacular country, I didn’t care about my time, and I was smiling.
I didn't even know I was smiling, that's how good it was.

I was surprised to find near the end that although I expected to have gas left in the tank to power up for the last few miles… I didn’t. I had enough to coast in at a reasonable pace, but there was nothing left for a glorious, arms up finish line performance. I guess for a Birthday Challenge, you know you picked a good one when you have just enough fuel to finish.
You can almost see the word FINISH between all the people. I was SO excited to be there!


My time was a surprise. 4:34 minutes. Since 6 hours was my goal, I was very, very happy. Despite natural inclination, I continue to NOT compare myself to other people. I did AWESOME for me. It was difficult. It was further than I have ever run before. It was a magnificent way to spend my birthday.

WHAT I LEARNED: I can run 33k on a trail in less than 6 hours. I can turn down "the noise" and have fun!
Look at the little girl "gaining" on those lean ultra-runners!

Celebrating with a little Veuve Clicquot and conspiring for next year... 34.

Romney's Red Hot Birthday Challenge

When Edwards and I met, he was in training for his 47th Birthday Challenge.

47 Miles on his fixed-gear road bike.
47 on-sight climbs
47 Miles on his single speed mountain bike
47k of Running

To be completed in 24 hours

He succeeded and I was so much amazed that I proudly and adamantly proclaimed that I would never do a Birthday Challenge!

Fast forward two short years and someone went and organized a Valentine’s Race in Moab called the Red Hot 50k. Only, it’s not just a 50k, they also have a 33k, and don’t it be it all that I’m turning 33 this year? Two days before my birthday I have the opportunity to run my first ultra which happens to be 33k for my 33rd Birthday.
Training for the Red Hot in the FREEZING cold!

I realize that for many athletes and most trail runners this doesn’t sound like much of a challenge. For me, it borders on “damn near impossible”. Let’s weigh the governing factors which have shaped my running career.

1. Auto accident #1: I broke my femur. The surgery required cutting through the length of my Gluteus Maximus and I still have two screws above my right knee and a rod that sticks out of the bone and into my hip. When these foreign objects catch nerves… it hurts.

2. Auto Accident #2: Two torn ligaments in my right knee, pelvis cracked in five places. Physically all it really did was add insult to injury (and further hinder my performance in sports that require strong, fast legs).

3. I am predominantly slow twitch muscle fiber which never really allowed me to shine in the sports people care about. Sure, I was always decent at The Mile but that never overshadowed my poor performance at Dodge Ball (or Baskeball, or Baseball, or Football, or Gymnastics...).

4. Recent knee injuries due to previous tears or new damaged caused by being old and active.

Needless to say, I don't run.

Darned but they don’t call it “The Birthday Pretty-Hard”.

So, the goal is 33k, before they close the course or - if I'm being ambitious - in under 6 hours.
http://mas50.com/redhot/

There are days when I’m sitting around and think I’ll just get in the zone and run for however long it takes. Then there are days when I’m running and I think, “this is going to be impossible.”

Assault on Western Europe: Part VII. Final Fantasy

France
Thursday, April 23, 2009
How happy am I in the Loire Valley?

I spent just three and a half weeks there and my entire being still aches to be back in Europe; Alisa and Bruce no doubt see this coming and are aching to figure out how not to leave!

This day started out with a visit to a B&B that might have served as a viable option for Bruce and Alisa to stay on the continent. Might have, had it not been saddled with a satanic past. It was gorgeous, but I’m pretty sure the low price was not because the owner was anxious to be generous… it was cheap because she was anxious to disconnect from it.

The B&B did take us within walking distance of the glorious village of Cordes, so after I ran screaming from the house of the well, I high-tailed it to Cordes for a few hours of shopping. Shopping without Edwards hurrying me on to the next café or a spring classic bike race! This was my only chance to get any real souvenir shopping done and I do hope my mom and sisters like their gifts!
Edwards climbing at the Roc de Gorb with Bruce on belay.

After finally, no thanks to the South African realtor, reconnecting with Edwards and the group, we all headed out to the Roc de Gorb for some climbing. Bruce, Alisa, Ben, and Anka cycled there, while Edwards and I took the Hippo. It was nice to see Bruce harnessed up again, and to see him kill a few routes. It was humbling to see Anka so comfortable on her first climb. Darn athletes and their darn athleticism!
Bruce and how he feels about climbing now-a-days.

Later we had dinner in Najac where I learned that there is nothing better than dinner with new friends, old friends, and a view of a castle. I recall that the hot chocolate crepe we had for dessert was so tremendous that it made the entire dinner; whatever it was, fully spectacular! The great addition to the evening was Fenwick, Alan’s dog, the little black version of Ratso. He came in and said hello, but was shortly off to do whatever it is smart, independent dogs do. At the end of the night he came running to Alan’s whistle… just like Ratso would have. It was a cute goodbye to very good people: Ben, Anka, Alan, and sadly, even Alisa and Bruce. The next day we’d be off to the Loire Valley.
A perfect setting for our last meal with friends.

Friday, April 24, 2009
The Manoir les Minimes

After much gratitude to Bruce and Alisa, as well as leaving some climbing gear in case Bruce decided to get out again, we departed to do girl stuff. I’d been a (pretty) good sport about all the cycling and climbing, but I wasn’t leaving France without seeing some fairytale castles!

At Alisa’s suggestion, we booked a room at the Manoir Les Minimes. When we arrived, it could not have been more perfect. I don’t know how to describe it, as I’m not well versed it period furniture, or the different flowers that bloom in France, all I can say is that this was the France that the little girl in me recognized and adored.


Our room was number #12, with a view of the river and the castle, and parlor area in which to enjoy it. The windows were “storybook” perfect and opened to the scent of the freshest purple blooms. I was certain a blue bird would alight on my finger and we would have a song together. Didn’t happen.
Out our perfect window

While I could have lounged in my French Style princess suite for the entire afternoon, Edwards has no patience for such things. We set off to see the home where Leonardo DaVinci spent this last days and to tour around Amboise. The trip to Leonardo’s house was most intriguing; I still can’t get over how many things he invented. The anemometer? We use these to site wind farms today.
The home where Leonardo daVinci spent his last days.

Next we strolled down Town Square and had our first Ricard in France. We sat next to the Amboise castle wall at a bustling café. Edwards ran down to the shop and purchased tobacco and rolling papers for a smoke with his pastis. He’s so adorable.
Amboise Town Square

Our concierge booked us dinner at the best restaurant in Amboise - Pavillon de Lys. The establishment has one seating per night and they had one table left. It was the most incredible dining experience of either of our lives. They had two menu choices: Menu or Menu Legumes. I did the Menu Legumes and this is what I had:

Carrot Soup
Artichoke Spread
Poke Egg
Mushrooms
(Each more spectacular than the last)

Tomato soup with cucumber cake – in a glass, with a straw.

Spicy and sweet vegetarian lasagne

Almond chocolate tarte with vanilla glace
Strawberry Ice
Chocolate crisp with mango sauce
Crème in a cup
Macaroons and jam

Two courses of soup and 5 desserts? This meal must have been designed for me personally and it could not have been more perfect.

Edwards had the Menu and with it came four goat cheeses that were unlike any cheese we have tasted on the planet. Surely Wallace and Gromit found them on the moon. They were absolutely spectacular. This is what happens when you can use raw dairy.

After dinner we walked down the dark, narrow streets. It was so beautiful it reminded me of Zurich after our elopement. We went back to the hotel and enjoyed ourselves as we did on our honeymoon, but before I slept I wrote:

If rural France is about the lifestyle, the Loire Valley is about the Fairytale. Even though I’m tucked tightly into my bed, my heart is doing cartwheels down the street.
The streets of Amboise from Amboise Castle

Saturday, April 25, 2009
Amboise Chateau

Chateau Day in the Loire Valley. My notes were slim; the memory was captured digitally.

We on-sighted four Chateaux:
Amboise
Chenonceau
Cheverny
Chambord

All pictures are from the Chateau in Amboise. There are more photos, from the other castles, available on my Facebook page.
Even the instruments were glorious
A beautiful reason to go to church? The Chapel at Amboise
Our Manoir from Chateau Amboise
Loved, loved the luggage!
Edwards, always attempting to be where he shouldn't be.
Artistry in architecture
Amboise castle grounds
How beauty was captured before the photograph

Sunday, April 26, 2009
Fontainebleau, France
Our last B&B outside of Fontainebleau

After cramming the girl stuff into two days, we were back to climbing and both of us were excited about it.

Edwards had been going on about the boulders in Fontainebleau since our plane landed in Paris. Upon seeing the forest, yes, there is very much to go on about!

The forest is quite lovely, if you like that kind of thing (I prefer the SKY), but it does have 20,000 boulder problems going for it…
The only dry area in the rainy a.m.

Unfortunately, the rain had picked back up in France and the sandstone boulders were soggy. We managed to locate the one dry, overhanging area in the forest and shared it with a couple of nice chaps for most of the day.
Edwards getting a spot from one of the Brits while he worked this traverse.
Bill on a dry boulder in the afternoon

Bill Lucia, who had just returned from Bangladesh, was at this dry boulder and he shared the rest of the day with us as well. We bouldered; went into town to view the Fontainebleau Chateau from the outside, have some pastis, the’, café, and snacks; and then went back to bouldering. Later in the day things had dried up a bit and we were able to mess around on some Fontainebleau boulders for real.
Edwards working a dry problem in the afternoon

We had a wonderful B&B our last two nights in France with very kind owners and a perfect, perfect breakfast. While the dinners our last two nights were utterly disappointing for France, the ambience of the restaurant couldn’t have been better. Adjacent to the Dame Jouanne area was a real back-woods, climbers paradise of old shoes, equipment, rugged service, and cheap eats. The autographed pictures of Lynn Hill and other famous climbers were bonus. http://bleau.info/jouanne/
Our last room, fitting that it was called, "Voyager"

And that’s it. Our entire trip in a nutshell.

While this ending to a very, very long blog might seem abrupt, it is not so jarring as having to tear ourselves away from Europe after three and a half weeks, only to come home to Salt Lake City – where our food is dead and our responsibilities lie. The final note I made from our final day…

“Must leave tomorrow. TERRIBLE!”

Assault on Western Europe: Part VI. Escalada Conquistadors

Rodellar, Spain
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Rolling into sunny Spain

Although it was still pouring buckets of rain in Luchon, our gorgeous hotel was warm and dry inside. With coffee and tea for breakfast, and the company of swallows painted and diving happily all over the walls - artistic and joyful - our moods were warmed for the adventure that lay ahead.

After an exciting drive up the Pyrenees - with Edwards chattering endlessly about cranking on his bike up this twisty mountain road - miraculously, there it was, like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, El Sol.

The Spanish mountain towns were glorious with new stone architecture that perfectly mirrored the old, and lush spring mountain climates. Down in the valley's it was a much drier landscape, but familiar and beautiful. Not to mention, the highways were straight and well signed, though we still managed to get turned around a bit on our way to Alcazar.
Alcazar, Spain

Alcazar. A lovely tourista town. The mountain guide there was very friendly and recommended that we get chalk for climbing at the large market in Anahuesca. "Well, large for around here." In my minds eye I pictured something the size of, gasp, a Wal-Mart Neighborhood Market. I should have been thinking more along the lines of a large 7-11! Anahuesca was pretty much on our way to Rodellar and the mercado was magical. The couple was very nice, and though the wife spoke very good english we still tried to do our best with Espanol. We found chalk, cheese, pastries, other odds and ends, and my favorite Brian Froud book, 'Faeries", but in spanish, "Hadas" Oh, glorious day! The Mercado owners booked us a room near Rodellar in a hotel where we could also get cena - dinner.
Our inn near Rodellar

It was very kind of them to book us this room, for we had a wonderful time chatting in our broken spanish (with some assistance from our English/Spanish phrase book) with the owners. Their son is currently playing basketball for Midlands, TX and is being recruited by the best college teams... Kansas, etc. They wanted to know which team Edwards thought was the best... all of them were impressive teams. Their kid must be an amazing player! We would discover all this over cena a la ocho, but after checking in, we ran to check out the cliffs at Rodellar. First glimpse of the cliffs in Rodellar

Talk about making it to Mecca! Until this day I was luke warm on climbing in general. After a few hours at Rodellar, I have to admit to being pretty stinking stoked! Now I'll climb anywhere, so long as the next time we go to Rodellar I can make a reasonably impressive showing on more of the routes. Of course, I'll only be impressing myself. Most of the climbers there are GOOD climbers. Better than I'll ever be. We explored the entire valley within sight, and crossed the FREEZING river twice, but settled on climbing at El Camino... one of few walls with routes easy enough for me. El Camino, Rodellar

I can't say enough about El Camino. Belay bolts say it all... a secure belay for a 100 pound girl to belay her husband in comfort. AWESOME! The Spaniards have yet to let me down!

All in all, this was an amazing and perfect day. I can't wait to explore more of Spain. Apparently I've made it sound so fantastic even my younger brother bought himself and his friend a couple tickets to Madrid to go see what all the fuss is about. They were not disappointed! Espanya es muy bueno!

Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Round up

Wednesday turned out to be another perfect, sunshiny day in Spain. Edwards rounded up coffee in the morning, and happened to catch the morning sheep round up through town as well. He says it was quite the attraction. After breakfast, a few important purchases (olive oil), and checking out we headed back to El Camino cliff. It didn't take long to get worn out. The climbing there isn't easy, so fully pumped and with a little more exploration on foot, we had to hit the road back to France.
View from our room at the inn
last look at El Camino

We made one last stop at the Mercado to thank them for their help and pick up some more delicious road trip food. We met a refugee there this time. He was from, oh no! I can't remember the African country, but... somewhere and was excited to speak English with us. He was not as in love with Spain and wanted very much to join his brother in New York City. Apparently he wanted to work hard and make some money, and the Spanish lifestyle shuns such things... not a bad in our book, but I can see where he is coming from.
Scenic Drive

Our drive back over the Pyrenees (for the last time) was filled with more spectacular scenery, and while we had much to look forward to during our last few days in France, we were sad to say goodbye to Spain. No worries though, we'll be back for more exploration soon. Yeah, as soon as I have available vacation time again!
Spanish winery. One thing they take seriously.
Parting shot!