Dia de la Bicicleta


Adventure is not a singular event. It is a series of many small happenings and occurrences strung together one after the other, culminating in an action packed story of intrigue, beauty and daring. Of those three things I would say we experienced a little bit of each today.

I have long wanted to take a bike tour of a city I have traveled to. Today that dream came true. I was filled with excitement as we got off the España Metro Transportation bus and walked through the ancient streets to a small, nondescript building housing TIM Bikes.

Nothing like a little spin to test out the rig.

They were basic e-bikes that had a bit of pedal assist if needed but the 7 traditional gears was plenty. Our guide, Juan was an excellent teller of history and even places he took us that we had seen on our walking tour were filled with additional facts.

Juan, our bike guide.

There really is nothing like the feeling atop a bike out in the cool yet sunny air. on

One of the first things we saw was a view of what is the biggest urban park in the world. It sits behind the Royal Palace and seems to stretch as far as the eye can see.

Casa de Campo. Biggest Urban Park in the World.
Vertical Garden.

Soon we entered El Retiro Park where families were out in droves. It was a Saturday and the words to the band Chicago’s old 70s song came to life as we wound through the paths in the park.

‘People dancing, people laughing

A man selling ice cream

Singing [Spanish] songs’

Birds were prominent in their voices as the counter melody to the man playing musical glasses. But just as quickly as I heard the haunting melodic tones, I was past him and hearing the laughing voices of children playing together. The air was still and fresh and I could not help but feel a contentment as I smiled a wide smile that felt permanent.

We soon came upon the stunning Crystal Palace. A couple was having wedding pictures taken in front of it and the happiness in their faces was contagious.

Palacio de Cristal. A 19th century conservatory used for art exhibits.
Bikes, bikes, and more bikes.
The lake at El Retiro

We left the park behind for the Puerto del Sol. This plaza was very busy and Juan admonished us not to take the flowers offered by the ladies who randomly approached, telling us that as we engaged with flower lady, her kids would pick our pockets and we would not even know it. There are at lest 200 robberies a day in that plaza.

Karen speeding away from gypsy pic pockets.

As the seven mile, three hour tour came to an end we all gathered for tapas and an icy cold beer. We laughed and talked and thanked Juan for the wonderful day he had made for us.

Tapas y cervesa!
Juan, Rose Mary, Maggie and me!

As much as the sights, sounds and tastes of an adventure are so enjoyable, it comes down to the people who truly create the memories that spring from those things. Juan is one of those people.

Juan-Felipe Carrasco

Hop On Hop Off Day


After a really restful sleep we three went out after breakfast to a hop on hop off tour. We saw great architecture and got a nice tour. When we got off I went on to the Prado Museum and Maggie and Rose Mary went on do more hop on hop off.

Madrid City Tours Hop on Hop off

Once we made a loop around the city, I headed off to the Prado Museum!

I quickly learned that the circuitous line I intended to stand in was for those who already held tickets. There was another line to get tickets that extended around the side of the ginormous building.

I went around the building where I met Hector from Miami. He was so nice and enjoyable to talk to. We spent an hour or more chit chatting as we worked our way to the ticket booth. Alas, after buying our tickets he let me down easy, breaking up with me on the vaunted steps of the Prado Museum in Madrid Spain.

So into the building I went to amerce myself in Goya, Rubens, Velazquez, and more. I really like Velazquez because his subjects are not all beautiful. They are often homely even.

After a gluttony of the visual arts, I rested with a nice lunch capped off with a latte.

I ended up abandoning the cold soup and ate some of the sandwich while drinking the latte out on the Patio at Prado. After sustenance, I dove back in to the Museum for more art including Picasso! This was one of the best ever museums I have been in. The paintings all called out to me to tell their stories. What a dang collection.

One of the things I am learning about myself is my contentedness in exploring palaces I am so removed from all on my own. There is just something about navigating an urban city where you don’t speak the language all on your own. Fetching the right bus, finding the right stop. Using your pigeon Spanish with locals.

I headed back to the Hotel to meet up with Rose Mary and Maggie to breakdown the day over more Sangria and a bite to eat. we laughed and talked and had a few ‘moments’ as Rose Mary and I are getting to know each other. It was such a satisfying day.

I am thankful to be here. Thankful that after 22 months of difficult and enduring work I can actually be traveling internationally and doing physical things that I was no longer able to think about doing, let alone do. I am thankful for better health, true friendships and new friendships.

Tomorrow we are all going on another city tour … this time on electric bikes! If you would have told me a year ago I would by cycling around Madrid….

Heading to Madrid Ain’t No Bull


The day finally arrived to head to our big adventure. As is typical, work ratcheted up and threw down some flash bangs and spike strips in an attempt to derail me! Up at 5, long day of court, then a last minute motion (which I suspect was strategic douchery by opposing counsel) that I needed to drop everything and respond to. So the next several plus several hours were spent angry typing all the while knowing I had packing to finish up. I got a call from Joe that he could come and collect me earlier and I took him up on it, if for no other reason to put an end to the work! By 1 AM we were headed out to the airport and I only forgot a couple of things!

Joe pulled up to the curb at American Airlines departures, slowing just enough to shove me out and speed off back to his house. Over the squeal of his tires I am pretty sure he wished me well on my trip…

Standing at the airport watching his car get smaller and smaller conjured the feeling of being a child on the first day of school with my backpack and suitcase all addorned with name tags.

I lugged, aka rolled, my luggage inside and settled in for a few hours of chilling and waiting for my partners in crime. But the time passed quickly, and soon enough we were all gathered at the gate for our departure. The first leg was uneventful and spent watching Beetlejuice and episodes of the new Frasier. We climbed off the plane and grabbed a bite to eat before what became a two hour delay in Charlotte NC due to huge thunder, lightning, and rain storms. But since we were already going to arrive in Madrid at 6:30 am it seemed like no biggy. Dare I say better even. Once the rain let up and the luggage could be loaded on the plane we found ourselves winging our way up the east coast before making a sharp right across the great Atlantic. To Europe. I was a bit unsettled though because since finishing the opposition things had gone so smoothly….too smoothly perhaps? I shook off the negative vibe and was excited landing in Madrid for my first foray into Spain.

Maggie and Rose Mary are fluent Spanish speakers so getting information is double easy. We dropped our bags at our vey nice and efficient hotel and headed right off to do a walking tour of Madrid. Sleep be damned! At 63 I am ever more aware that permanent sleep will come sooner rather than later so why waste time doing that now!

Due to the flight delay we had missed our prescheduled walking tour but we quickly found one already under way and just joined in with them. Our guide was a Chicagoan ex-pat and was terrific. She was an unashamed history nerd which I appreciated. We were able to see the initial, ancient, boundaries of Madrid as well as go on a colorfully presented history of the Hapsburgs and Bourbons. Tales of open square tax evading markets, fires designed to compel elaborate palace constructions, imprisonment’s of prominent albeit treacherously treasonous officials and finally gruesome executions in a style that can only be assumed to be what our founding fathers were referring to when the talk about cruel and unusual punishment! (the practice of garrote in Spain was last used in 1974. google that …. But not at dinner time.)

Beautiful cathedral across from the palace.

The oldest continuously operating restaurant in the world

Everyone rubs this guys posterior for luck! When in Rome…er Madrid…..

We stopped at a place for tapas and then went back to the hotel. We had all been up for a good 40 hours aside from the little sleep on the plane and our eyelids were no longer cooperating with our desire to do and see more. We had a drink and headed to our various rooms. Now was time for a hot shower and a nap. I opened my luggage to find its contents wringing wet! Remember that storm? I can only surmise that the luggage cart was on the tarmac when things hit the fan in Charlotte. So I am working on drying everything out.

I came down to the Hotel bar…everyone loves a good hotel bar…..and got my Hemingway on with a glass of sangria in hopes of recording this memorable day and sharing it with anyone willing to read.

Tomorrow is another day of exploring Madrid. I will send some things out to get washed and dried. And will be right back here to share all the fun with you! So far so good with the prospect of too much fun ahead!

10 Days to Blast Off!


Time is ticking down and we will be leaving in only 10 days! I have been packing, checking gear, and ensuring I am fit and ready.

This will be a new adventure in more than one way. This will be the first time since my 20s that I will be fit and a healthy weight when adventuring. Our plan is to fly to Madrid, three days later we train to Santiago where we get shuttled back to our starting point at Sarria to begin walking that next day.

I am bringing along a little watercolor journal.

And my custom designed shirt by Sonya.

I will be blogging daily as well. I have been working hard on the Peloton and doing 5k walks to prepare. so with my credential in hand I will join the centuries of pilgrims before me and walk the Camino de Santiago Compostela.

Adventure Here I Come!


It has been a long time coming but I am off to Spain to do 100k of The Camino de Santiago from Sarria. I am excited and cannot wait to get there. Of course, there is some more gear to get in place and more training so will blog the next couple months to the May 15, 2024 departure!

2024 Adventure!

Mt. Baldy – Observation Point, Zion


October 14, 2018

It is that time of year again where Sonya Vasilieff comes down to Las Vegas and we try to accomplish some adventures.

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Ready to load Ace the Adventure Wagon and hit the road to Utah!

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A little Apple Cup action early in the season,

This year our goal — set months ago — was to do the most difficult trail in Zion National Park Observation Point. Many people think Angel’s Landing it the hardest — it is the most exposed and daring hike, but Mt. Baldy sores above it and features close to 2200 feet in elevation gain in four miles. It tops out at around 6500 feet total. Let that sink in. (Sonya comes from the Seattle area and lives at about 500 feet elevation, so that is a jump for her.) We added in Eric Besserud and met up at our vacation rental in Hurricane, Utah, so that we could get an early start and be in the park before there was no more parking. We enjoyed a wonderful meal at The Stage Coach Grill in La Verkin  before settling in to a nights rest.

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When was the last time YOU slept in a bunkbead?

Upon arrival at the park, we quickly got on the bus to the trail head. Stop number seven on the Zion Shuttle. Just as we approached the stop the driver advised us all to look up at the top of observation point. We did. My head snapped around and I looked at Sonya, who had also just snapped her head around to look at me. She exclaimed: “Oh, we aren’t doing that!” Though I thought the very same thing, I had to push back or I wouldn’t make it a step up that trail, let alone have a chance at the top.

We got off the shuttle, donned our packs, and started. Sonya led the way and Eric hung back with me….the slow one. The trail wasted no time in showing the steepness we were to face the entire way. The trail shares a start with the Weeping Rock trailhead, just go to the right of the interpretive signs instead of left and you will be headed up Observation Point Trail. You begin at 4,394 ft of elevation and a 10% grade. (The maximum permissible grade on most highways in 6%.) I was thinking about Sonya, starting this hike 3,894 feet above the altitude she lives at! I topped out at 5,763 feet for an elevation gain of 1,369 feet in under two miles up. Parts of the trail were 33% grade.  At least that is what the profiles I have been able to find reveal.

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The last time I saw Sonya until she crossed the finish line! What an accomplishment!

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Spectacular scenery every step of the way.

I passed through so many different beautiful areas — canyons, slots, canopy cover — but I was working overtime and just under two miles I hit a big wall. I bonked. Sonya had left us long ago. I figured she overcame her original statement and just accessed something inside to hunker down and do the work. I told Eric I needed a break and he went on up to catch Sonya. He caught her just below the top. It was nice to have him pushing me to keep going, and I made great progress over my previous, post knee replacement hikes. But only 50 pounds down and not enough training left me with no more gas in the tank and the need to evaluate whether to continue up after a rest or to turn back.

The great Ed Viesturs talked about calculated risks in a presentation I heard him give once. I had to calculate the risk of expending energy to continue up and determine whether I would have enough left to get back down. At this level of steepness getting down was not going to be an easy trot down the trail. I also had to factor in time. In the end, It was clear, I had to go down. Even with that decision, I wasn’t sure that I would get down before the others got to the top, turned down and caught me on the decent.

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Looking down on Angel’s Landing. Sonya’s view from the top!

So I worked my way back down, at times with minute steps and a fear of slipping on the sandy gravel that often times coated the smooth, chiseled rock path. Hiking poles were a saving grace. Other than stepping off trail to allow others passage, I did not take breaks going down. I just kept working. All the while curious about Sonya and Eric. I really wanted Sonya to hit the top. There was no way for me to know if she did.  She has been working so hard and expanding her fitness and I thought to top Mt. Baldy would prove to her how strong she really is.

Going down it was very clear just how steep it was. And no surprise why my FitBit reported that I had been in my peak cardiac zone for over two hours! It also stated that I had burned 5,066 calories, been in active minutes for 214 minutes and had taken 16,487 steps. All in all, information to establish a benchmark going forward.

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Return of the Victor! What a great day with two of my besties!

Until next year, we have done it again!

Eye See You…Or, No Eye Don’t — Recovery from PRK


I hate hiking, golfing, biking, or kayaking wearing sunglasses that are not prescription. But I also hate having to use the same glasses for any activity if I get prescription sunglasses. For that, and many other reasons, I decided to get Lasik surgery to correct my vision. The Las Vegas sun plays prominently, with 292 sunny days a year, so sun glasses are like underwear… don’t leave home without them.

As I was in the pre-surgery process, I found out I had a corneal dystrophy that would prevent my having Lasik, but would steer me to PRK, or Photorefractive Keratectomy  instead. I knew it would be a little different — slightly longer time being uncomfortable and slightly longer healing. I learned from this process “slightly” is a relative term.

DAY 1. — SURGERY: I gathered at the surgery center along with six other patients on a Saturday morning. We each went through a series of final tests and evaluations and then the surgeon met with us as a group. (everyone agreed he could talk openly about our individual cases, so no running around yelling HIPPA!) We were each offered a Valium to take the edge off and make us more relaxed at the appointed time.

All of the others were getting Lasik. I was the only one getting PRK. I was first. I went in and they were finalizing their set up. I lay on the firm, massage type table with the back of my head in a little ring to stabilize. They emphasized not to wiggle my feet and gave me this long snake stuffed animal to hold. I suppose to keep me from fidgeting. The doctor (who was quite friendly and had done somewhere in the neighborhood of 38,000 laser surgeries) took his spot at my head and  put some numbing in my eyes, did some washing of my eye and proceeded, all the while telling me what he was doing along the way. I had previously been instructed to focus on a green light and stay still. I complied.

When he said something like “now the laser” it was a few seconds and I could smell what reminded me of hair burning.  Then eye two and BAM! all done.

I was then escorted into a room where the tech measured my tear ducts with this tiny pick type tool so she could put plugs in my tear duct drains. The Lasik people got plugs that, over time, dissolve, but help while they heal to keep their eyes from drying out too much. Mine would be silicone. The doc himself had them and they have been in for 15 years. The tech popped those in and I was ready to head home. All in all, I had been at the center for 3 hours total, only 10 minutes or so of which was in the actual surgery room.

I had dark glasses on, which they provided, and was instructed to go home (via my accompanying driver) and lay down and keep my eyes shut as much as possible until my mandatory return the following morning. Again, being brought in, not to drive myself. I did go right home and lay down. At this time I took off the glasses and put on a flexible protective mask they provided so lolling about on the pillow, I did not hurt my eyes. Also helps prevent you rubbing your eyes as a reflex while sleeping. My eyes were burning. A lot. Like way too much shampoo got in them and I couldn’t get it out. Or like when you get a lot of lime in your eye when squeezing fresh juice into your gin and tonic. Another description would be when you poke yourself in the eye accidentally with your mascara wand. Only you keep on doing it. They provided “comfort drops” for numbing, which dealt with that discomfort swimmingly. Fortunately, I slept a lot. According to my Fitbit I slept 14 hours. I am not a big sleeper. I sleep 4 – 5 hours a night. So this was a big sleep.

I got up once to put drops in and have a bite and go back to sleep. I took Advil PM, as suggested by the doc, and that must have helped. (I have never taken a PM type pill before).  While laying down but awake with eyes shut, I listened to audiobooks.

Hallmarks of the day: I learned the steroid drops are REALLY important. They slow healing which prevents scaring and reduces the chance of hazy vision. Fast, procedure not really uncomfortable to undergo, weird smell of burning hair, slept a lot, lots of watery eyes, eyes stung a lot. Vision very blurry  

Day 2. — DAY AFTER: The next morning I got up and put the tears in and then the other drops…waiting 5 minutes between each type so one didn’t just wash the other out. No showering and off to the follow-up appointment to get a check. Clad in sunglasses, of course. I was seeing little. Very little.  Though somehow I tested to 20/30 distance and reading the line below news print. That is, I could identify, but no sharp vision at all. I had what is called MONO done which means one eye is done for close vision and the other is done for far vision.  He was happy with my progress and reminded me it would be a couple more days before the discomfort really subsided and asked me back in 3 more days to remove the contacts they had placed over the cornea to protect it after the surgery. They called it a contact bandage. After that check, I went home and sat around with the audiobook playing. I had discomfort but the comfort drops helped. Though I was beginning to hate mascara wands.

Hallmarks of the day: Check up went well, lots of watery eyes, eyes stung a lot. Vision very blurry.   

DAY 3. Now I was bored but also in a lot of discomfort. The comfort drops were to be discontinued so no help there. My eyes had been watering a lot and the boiled onion feeling of my eyes continued. I still could not really see anything well, and my eyes were very light-sensitive.

Hallmarks of the day: Very watery eyes, eyes stung a lot. Vision very blurry. No more comfort drops meant more discomfort than before. Light sensitivity increased.    

DAY 4. Went in for my contact bandages to be removed. They took them out and the right eye was on watery, eye poke steroids. That kind of eye pain where when you try to open your eye, the lid refuses to budge.  It continued to spray tears and stay shut and the Doc waited them out and finally checked them. Vision was good. I am seriously not sure how that works since I cannot see the edge of anything and faces are simply eyebrows and mouths. She decided to put fresh contacts in to be ultra sure I didn’t damage the repairing area and had me come back three days later.  I was able to see a bit more clearly in my close eye. I did watch tv and may have overdone that.

Hallmarks of the day: Very watery eyes, eyes stung a lot. Vision very blurry.

DAY 5. I felt much better. Even tried a short drive. I could not see the words on street signs, road signs, businesses. I got a drive through coffee and went home. Frustration began as I wanted to see distance better! All I read says this is normal for PRK.

Hallmarks of the day: Very watery eyes, eyes stung a lot. Vision very blurry. took a very short drive.

DAY 6. This day I didn’t feel any improvement in my eyes though I am not feeling the discomfort of the first days. I was to meet some friends for dinner and got out on the road, but felt very odd behind the wheel. Felt like things looked washed out and thin. I don’t know how else to explain it. So I went right back home and Ubered to dinner. (Yes, it is a verb now to Uber).  I felt fine other than I could not really see. I enjoyed being out and then called an Uber for the ride home. It was now dark and I live in Vegas so lights EVERYWHERE! it was like a fear and loathing in Vegas scene with lights replicating themselves and moving and flashing and I couldn’t tell which was the shadow and which was the real. Thank GOD I had not driven!

Hallmarks of the day:  Vision very blurry. Driving not a good choice. Night lights are in triplicate and haloed and sprayed and everything else hallucinogenic.

DAYS 7. Back in for my contact bandages out. I drove and things were ok. After, I felt a marked improvement as the night went on. Felt some better sharpness on close vision and less blur on long vision. Also felt less discomfort. Moving in to Sunday, the gains seemed gone and back to generally blurry, albeit painless eyes. I went and bought much better sunglasses. My light sensitivity definitely persists.

WEEK 2. Back to work. I drove and that was fine though not my optimum vision. for driving at all. Like driving without my glasses only a tad worse. I had 272 emails to read. YIKES! Had to work with all the lights in my office off, dim down the computer screen as much as possible and rest my eyes every so often. Every real often. To read, I had to be as close as I could get my face to the monitor. By the end of the day I was beat and my eyes felt like I had used them for feet on hot pavement all day. Second day back at work — today — is not much better. I am worried at this juncture about all the work for the next few days. I wish I had scheduled out 2 weeks, in all honesty. I never knew it was going to be like this.

WEEK 3. This week was better. There was a lot of fluctuation in my sight. Good days/bad days. With the mono, I felt there was a sort of tug of war between my eyes regarding which eye was the boss. Driving is the most difficult thing. I definitely do not drive at night yet. Too many starbursts and double vision elements. My close vision seems to be clearing up faster. I can now tolerate the computer screen without feeling like squinting. I have been on 3 drops of the steroid a day this week, dropping to two tomorrow. I continue to use the tears, though much less often. The only time my eyes actually feel dry is first thing in the morning. It seems like as my vision is less blurry, the distance is still very impacted by double vision. Cars at a distance are difficult to really make out which is the real one.

My eyes are still light sensitive and I use my quality sunglasses relentlessly. The Las Vegas sun is always present. Yet, at dusk, dawn times and during cloudy days, it is not always easy to see what is down the pike from me. I didn’t see a man and dog in the crosswalk until I was about three car lengths from the stop sign. It was jus as the sun was coming up.

With the advances of this week, I am finally feeling like I might have gotten over the initial hump and look for great things in week 4!

WEEK 4. This week seemed to be a series of a little better/a little worse. Like the dog days of PRK. I still have double vision, though the two objects are closer together than previously. I am really tiring of this vision as I cannot just reach for glasses and see clearly. In other words, it is getting old and my patience is wearing thin. I am going hiking this weekend and already pouting that the views at Zion will be less spectacular than they should be — double vision, no sharp colors or images.

I am about to start my last week of steroid drops. This week I was able to wear eye make-up, though only did it once for a special event and am being very conservative. I even make sure that the extra steroid drops that dry in the corner of my eye are carefully removed so they don’t get in my eye.

Night driving is still OH YOU TEE OUT! Lots of starbursts and accentuated double vision in the dark. And day driving? Honestly, I probably shouldn’t be doing that either. Things are so washed out that today, a woman was standing in the median to cross a busy street. I saw her but did not even see she was pushing a stroller until I was very close. I still cannot read most street signs. Also, I cannot read the on screen menu for my cable company on my 60″ TV as the overlap and all the lines of print combined with the blue colors makes it awful. Even just the clock on the DVD player is a big blob of blue. That color will not clear up for me yet.

So, while I am still confident this will all work out, I am weary from the long recovery. I am less sure I would have chosen to do this PRK had someone really told me what the time frames were rather than just say == a little longer yada yada.

I will update the blog weekly as I continue to recover. And hope this is helpful. I am not discouraged regarding the ultimate outcome I expect in the long run,  but I hate not seeing things vividly and sharply in the here and now.

America in My Youth – a True Adventure Story


When I was a wee lass, 6 years old, my family moved from Rancho Cordova, California back to Washington State. It was the Reagan years in California and he stopped the massive spending on public projects that had been started before him. Mom and Dad were both reared in Bellingham Washington. Both from logging families. Both hard working, independent people.

Our Little Family in 1961. San Jose, California

Though they had struck out on their own to California, when work dried up for Dad, a heavy construction/heavy machinery operator, we packed up and moved “home”. Dad got a truck driving job in Seattle, a career he would have the rest of his working life. So we moved into a little rental house on 142nd Street South. We had no real money and mom sewed my sister and I dresses for school. Two each. My favorite was black and white checked with some zigzag red trim.

First Grade picture. Sunny Terrace Elementary School, Seattle, Washington, 1967

Our house had a back door we never locked. It was a house built on a lot that had been sectioned off from what once was a family farm. The land had been owned by Mr. and Mrs. Jovanovich. They were immigrants from what was then known as Yugoslavia. They had a whole bunch of sons and a daughter. John and his wife Joanne lived on the property in one of three brick houses that had been build for three of the kids. Daughter Maryanne and her husband Tony lived in the second one and we rented the third, owned by Son Tony. Mr. and Mrs. Jovanovich, referred to affectionately by us as “the old folks,” lived in a really cute house down a long drive. They had a magnificent garden in which they grew tons of vegetables. She had a rose garden and he also grew grapes and made wine.

George, Tom, Joanne and John Jovanovich with me at my Fathers Funeral. Bellingham Washington 2013

It was as rural a setting you could get, living on the north runway of Sea-Tac Airport. There was a woods behind the old folks house, a field along their long drive, and a sand pit to the west of John and Joanne’s house.

Those years were filled with playing outside. Even in the Seattle rain. John and Joanne had four boys – Steve, Tim, George and Tom. They were good kids to grow up with. They exposed me to the culture of their heritage and I found it fascinating. It wasn’t uncommon for my friends grandparents to be immigrants. My Nana had an Irish accent, their grandparents had an accent from “the old country” and several of my friends grands did too.

My grandparents, Charlie and Alida Tarr. Seattle, Washington, 1972.

Often we spent the summer building grass forts with chicken wire and the cut grass from the field behind John and Joanne’s. We fried baloney on fires we built, played cowboys and Indians or army. We had toy guns and we knew how to use them. We rode bikes endlessly, building jumps and clothspinning playing cards to the spokes to make motor noises.

We used up every bit of daylight on long seattle days that extended until well after 10 pm — finally giving up the ghost and going inside when we heard the familiar voice of my mother or Joanne calling from their porches. “Karrer-ennn!” Or Tommm-mmmy!” A minor third always separating the first syllable from the second.

Tom Jovanovich and I at my father’s funeral. Bellingham, Washington, 2013.

Sleeping outside in the yard was another staple of the Seattle summer. Sometimes in an old army tent, other times just on the grass or on a tarp. The Jovanovich kids had two dogs – Smokey and Toby. There was also Lucky and our dog Lobo. They would position themselves at various posts as sentries to protect us. Often, Lobo’s assigned spot was under the streetlight out in the field. You could see his silhouette in the light and feel safe.

Carnations. 4th if July, 2018. Las Vegas, Nevada.

One of my favorite summertime memories was planting snap dragons and carnations along the side of the porch that extended out that unlocked back door. So today I enjoy celebrating a country I love, and all the blessings I have had as an American, with some beautiful carnations and the memories of a good life.

Featured on Slowpoke Divas


I was pleased to be a guest blogger at Slowpoke Divas. Its a great page and blog. Check out my story and all the other good content!

Breaking Through


It’s been seven months since I had my total left knee replacement. It is a hard grind. But I finally feel like I am going to be able to return to my prior life. This weekend was my first weekend that I had two days of big activities for the legs. On Saturday, I did my second 5k walk since surgery.


Maggie and I headed out for the 8th annual Run for Shelter 5k to benefit victims of domestic violence. I got there early and worried about how things would go. This walk was an out and back. Right in the middle was a steep incline followed by a steep decent. Which meant two ups and two downs. I have only don flat walking so far. 


A coworker, who’s wife was running with Maggie, walked with me. And I have to admit that having him there pushed me a little harder. The first uphill pushed me pretty good. But the knee felt great. The first downhill was good too. At that pointI was  into the second mile. I could feel I was slower and after the turn around I also could tell I was getting a blister on the ball of my right foot. 

Having this surgery has been a real adjustment. Shoes don’t fit the same, my fair is different and I am so out of shape now. So approaching the hill the second time was a bit daunting. 


It was already clear to me I had dropped to last place. The organizers were taking down the marker signs. But I kept on and to my delight and satisfaction, my quad was strong enough to support me on the down hill even the second time. 

Because the knee replacement I had required that my quadracept muscle be cut, that results in complete loss of use of it. Days after surgery I still could not even flex it. Try as I might, my brain would say move and it would not. It is the single hardest part of my recovery. When your quad is weak, your leg buckles when you go down stairs. Or hills. So this was a real marker that I am well on my way to full strength on my quad.


After the walk, my ankles hurt and I was really sore. Part was the good kind of sore. The kind that signals you have really done a good workout and it comes with deep breaths of satisfaction.

The other kind of hurt in my ankles, well that is the kind of hurt that tells you to keep working because you are simply carrying too much weight. By this morning my muscles were screaming and my ankles felt a bit better. But I knows I could not simply rest. 


Today I had two things on the agenda. The first was a push-up challenge. It is from 22kill. You video yourself doing 22 push-ups for 22 days in order to bring awareness to the fact that 22 veterans a day kill themselves. I can’t do push-ups as I cannot get on the floor and kneel. So I devised a dip station to do 22 dips. 


I really liked it and think 22 days of it will make a big difference in my upper body. 

After the dips, I was even more sore than the day before. But I still had a 45 minute ride on the recumbent bike. My rides have take. A hit in the last weeks and I needed to stick to the schedule no matter how much my quads and calfs were burning.

I que’ed up The Wrecking Crew on Netflix and started peddling. 


I was doing pretty well considering how rough I felt. But the minutes kept ticking off while Inwatched some of the best musicians to ever play in the LA studios. My feet were uncomfortable and my blister from yesterday was screaming. 


I fought my inner quitter and just kept going. As I entered the last five minutes, time came to a standstill. And I was also worried I would not hit the 10.2 miles I had hit the last time I had a 45 minute ride. 

Finally, the buzzer went off and I was done. As I sat looking at the screen I felt a huge sense of satisfaction. 10.1 miles. Only dropped a tenth of a mile. That was a win. Especially considering how sore I was AND that I had cut 45 seconds off my 5k the day before. It hit me that Inwill be able to do my December hike. I will be able to get back to leg miles so I can go to Spain for my next big adventure. 


Don’t let your dreams go. Keep working. It is worth it! 

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