Comments about Tidbits

I may have taken it too far with the skin ink note. Sorry to everyone I know with tattoos, which is pretty much everyone but Emery, that I said I am "too punk for tattoos". However, I still think I might be too punk to go against the wishes of my wife.

Also, I left out a nickname: Dilly Dally Sally (no explanation required for most)

25 quick tidbits about me

1. I still hate being alone in the dark.
2. My past list of nicknames from kindergarten to now: Curious George, Kissifer, Christopher Robin, Ice Man (self chosen), Fish Face (not appreciated, til now), Spaz, Christafari, Redneck, Christopher Robin (again?), and Mr. Chris
3. I have always had a problem estimating time, especially when deadlines are involved.
4. I took 7 years to earn my undergraduate degree in Anthropology.
5. My wife Emery is pregnant but still gives me foot massages, how wonderful is that!
6. Cars are the focal point of many of my frustrations.
7. I make cool things with nothing more than an idea and a grinder with old bike parts.
8. Cats. I was always allergic to them as a kid. I grew up with dogs. Now I have a hard time dealing with anything but cats. They just aren't as annoying.
9. My middle name is five letters, starts with S and ends with N. I used to tell other kids it was SATAN, but really it is just an odd spelling of SHAUN.
10. (not even halfway with these notes, gosh) I am an Eagle Scout.
11. I've gone camping twice in the last two years without remembering any source of fire.
12. The Grand Canyon is beautiful from the rim, but unbelievably amazing from the bottom.
13. My guilty pleasure at Epic Cafe is a Triple Dirty Chai, so good it needs capitals!
14. I like board games with friends more than roller coasters.
15. My mother, sister, and I are all educators.
16. I still have a goal to brew my own beer.
17. My footwear choices almost outnumber those of my wife.
18. Chevy Chase as Ty Webb sums up my ideas on life all too often.
19. I'm too punk for tattoos.
20. I'm too sissy for piercings.
21. Emery thinks I look cute in my work outfits. She should, she bought most of the clothes at Savers for me. But I do love them and make them look DAMN good.
22. I'm humble. (probably the most humble person I know)
23. I tire easily with tasks, and leave many of them unfinished.

Bike vid project

I'm trying my hand at video production with all the bike rides I've done recently. Check it out on you tube by clicking here.

And thanks to Amy for posting this link as well. After all, it is her gnarly hubby doing all the big stuff.

LBA not so Anonymous

Hello, my name is Chris and I've been a Last Bite Save for about 27 years now.

I can't begin to explain how many times I've saved a particular bite of dinner, dessert, or other food items til the very last. The promise of a sweet or savory perfect ending to a well thought out meal. The joyous triumph of selecting a bite with all of the greatest flavor combination wrapped into one final package. The nearly orgasmic sensation when you slowly roll the food over all the taste buds on your tongue, almost as if the two are participating in a comic saliva wrestling match. (Okay, maybe that image was a little too much, but that's what the imagination is for.)

But now that I am older and spending time reflecting on personal habits, I find that my Last Bite Addiction permeates other behaviors. Just yesterday, I was shopping for pants. Completely unrelated to eating, or so I thought. Yet, the moment I entered the dressing room, I found myself sorting through the four or five options I had plucked from the clearance rack. I sorted them based on whether I just happened to like them, or had fallen in love with them at first sight. Guess which ones went to the back of the rack. I didn't notice until I tried on all the other pairs of pants, but the pair I saved for last was that pair of charcoal grey trousers that sparked a natural desire upon first sight. "Holy shit.", I exclaimed to myself, having realized that this Last Bite Addiction was becoming a way of life.

At least when I tried on the pants, they fit like a charm and I didn't have to face my fear of placing them on the merchandise restocking rack. Instead I marched toward the register in that joyous state of triumph similar to saving a final bite of cheesecake to finish a four course meal.

So tonight I write my story in hopes that I may provoke others to limit themselves in the dangerous habit of Last Bites and the possible life altering addiction it may lead to. I know I'm not the only one out there like this, but I also won't name names. If you suffer, or savor at times, this terrible way of life, please leave more insight to those naysayers out there.

However, Emery brought up the point that her grandmother who lived in California would offer up these words of advice: "Don't save the best bite for last, you never know when an earthquake will come."

Walking through the sandstones of time

"You think you could make a trip to the canyon this winter?", Steve asked sometime last fall, an intonation in his voice almost knowing the inevitable negative answer to follow. But rather than rejection for another year of trying to lure me away from the so-called real world obligations, I said yes.



A few months and some planning down the road, we started our descent into the canyon. Not just any canyon mind you, but the big one, the Grand Canyon.


We were waving goodbye to Emery and my mother-in-law Glo as we sloshed through the remnants of the previous weeks snowfall. Those fluffy steps down were also the retreat from society, obligations to others, and another calendar year.



The Tanner trail from Lipan Point is a mere 7.8miles from rim to river. But throw in the fact that the rim is a mile in elevation above that ol' Colorado River, and many of the geologic layers are sheer cliffs where exposed, and the Tanner trail no longer seems so simple to the body. That first day was difficult, I won't lie. It made every muscle in my legs twitch from time to time, and usually at times when balancing was necessary for survival. Steve, a.k.a. SuperHiker, noticed my flailing steps and felt his massive heel blisters nip at his nervous system. We stopped for dinner on a flat spot in the sun with every intention to finish our meal and hike down further to camp. However, our sedated stomaches and withered muscles were unprovoked by this idea and kept us in place, setting up the tent and enjoying the coming new year with a shot of whiskey and a failed attempt to hum/sing the traditional Auld Lang Syne.





The next few days in the canyon were plenty eventful, but rather than droning on and on about the natural wonders of such an amazing place I'll try and keep this trip log to the point. We ate well, hiked a lot, gawked at each spectacular view around every bend, worried about slipping off the occasional narrow section of trail, and felt triumphant when anxiously emerging from the snow drifts on the New Hance Trail to reach the top again just before sunset.



Another point of this post is to share the quiet and solitude felt when in the canyon. Other than a pair of hikers and a small crew of rafters, we saw no one for five days. Yet all along, cars were zipping up and down the road along the rim, visiting the many overlooks, taking a few pictures, then driving away content on having gazed at the massive hole in the ground before them.



We saw none of that while in the canyon; we focused on the details and intricacies of the trail. Studied for hours the flow of the mighty Colorado through the home it created and is now enslaved in. We followed the paths of clouds, exposing new views with every wind gust. We walked through layers of time, much as Colin Fletcher did so many years ago, but we were also removing ourselves from time's grasp until all but those last few hours climbing out.



So thank you Steve for tirelessly asking me to go on this trip, and leading me through the amazing canyon that truly exists below the rim. Thank you Emery for supporting me in all my adventures, especially ones like this that bring me closer to your beutiful world past, present, and future. And finally, thanks to Glo and Ron for lending Steve and I trekking poles for physical support, a warm bed to stay in during our travels to and from the area, and the morale boosting food along the way.