RoseHiker Part 3, and Blog Guilt

I'm home alone tonight, Macaulay Culkin style, because the Gentleman is at a Giants game without me.    A little factoid is that I am 6786% more likely to blog when he is busy and I am not.....the secret is out.  I like spending time with him exponentially more than I like blogging.

Blogging will not, must not, interfere with the good stuff in my real, non-virtual life.  These are almost exclusively the ONLY times that I blog:

1) Weekday evenings when the Gentleman works later than me.
2) When the Gentleman wants to watch something that I don't (the usual suspects are Game of Thrones, Fringe, and other violent or obscure movies that he has found, like The Road or King of Kong).
3) Weekends when I race or otherwise have a slow day.

If I was single, or a stay-at-homer, I'm afraid I would blog too much.  I'm not an expert on blogs, but from where I'm coming from, 6 or more times per week is too much.  Too much time typing.  Too much time shared with a computer screen for a hobby.  Too much time away from REAL life.  Maybe it takes some bloggers only 10 minutes to pump out a post, in which case, fair enough, 6 posts per week at 60 minutes total really isn't too much.  But my 2-3 average posts per week often leave me feeling guilty for the loss of the 30-60 minutes per post that I devote (is that slow? I only type as fast as I think.  I might be slow).  I feel guilty that I didn't use that time to do something productive--like finish my effing shell of a LinkedIn profile, or put the dishes away, or give the Gentleman a massage for trucking through a badass week of crazy hiking.

So blog guilt.  Anyone else have this?  Like, do you wonder why you aren't doing something more directly fulfilling towards the people around you rather than plugging into the ole public diary? I want to know: WHEN do you blog, and do you make efforts to not let it interfere with the real people in your life?

That said, the guilt doesn't keep me away from my 2 hours+ here per week because so far this stuff has been rewarding, although sometimes surreal and bizarre.  I feel closer to the people I know in real life who read and keep tabs on my life and my whiny ways, and I love that the feedback can be much more thoughtful and engaging than it is in other sources (I'm thinking facebook).


With the hot temperatures melting all the snow and causing the Virgin river to flow higher and faster than is safe for hiking "the Narrows," the Gentleman and I spent the first half of this day strategizing how we could fulfill our vacation expectations (which were strongly hinged on getting to hike in water with the towering Narrows canyon walls around us).   We had two options: scratch our plans for Bryce Canyon and stay in Zion the entire week, hoping the Narrows waters were calmer by the end of the week; OR find an alternate water hike adventure.

Option number two is what happened.  It was all so very serendipitous and perfect.  It played out like this:

On Day 1, I spied on this guy returning water shoes and a wetsuit to an outfitting shop, and thought, "I knew it! Cool people can still hike the Narrows despite all the warnings!"  So I galloped after him and whispered, "did you hike the Narrows today?"

"Nah, broseph.  We did the Subway.  It's a different slot canyon, about 45 minutes thataway, and it was awesome."  Thanks broseph!

On Day 2, we went back to the outfitter to try and get prepared to do the Subway trail.  Long story short, the outfitters told us we would need to spend half a day and $150/person taking a course from them on how to rappel and otherwise navigate the obstacles of this semi-technical slot canyon.

On Day 3, I whined about how stupid it sounded to pay $300 for us to take a course on using rope.  The Gentleman and I have both spent time in rock climbing gyms.  So we wandered into a much smaller outfitting shop and met our new best friend.

His name was Phillip.  He trusted that we were athletic and adventurous and sent us on our merry way with a very detailed list of directions through the Subway route, a dry suit, and water boots.  Then we went back to the original outfitter and bought 60 feet of rope.  They glared at us, knowing full well what we planned on doing with that rope WITHOUT taking their class or renting their gear.  Mwuahaha.

The remaining afternoon of Day 3 was spent hiking an unknown number of miles up the West Rim trail (I would estimate 9-10 miles), which involved retracing a major portion of the Angels Landing trail we had previously done.

Another gorgeous and hot day

We were feeling pretty cool for having dominated the trails the day prior

I love a good boob-smooshing backpack

The trail was so unique.  It shot out to some stunning views of Zion's big rocks, and then burrowed into a woodsy trail that reminded me slightly of the kind of trails you often see in Northern California.

The hat switcheroo.  I was forced to wear this most days by my hiking partner who was concerned about me...becoming...a redneck? We did a good job using up a tube of sunscreen, no worries.

In case you had any doubt that Zion/Springdale leans towards hippie.

Just another view of Angels Landing

Cliff Hanger.  Really dangerous stuff.

Outtake 1
Outtake 2

I need an explanation for this

This is what it looks like as you move past it.

Another thing I am remembering about this day, is I woke up before the Gentleman so I hit the Zion pavement for about 7 miles in the morning.  I just followed the shuttle route (the road was empty that morning except for turkey and deer!) for 3.5 miles, and then turned around.

This was pure ecstasy running.  I mean the really best kind of running.  WHILE I was running, I couldn't stop thinking about how much I wanted to run this route again and again.  It was unworldly everywhere I looked.  I spotted another runner at one point and looked at her mystified: she was plugged in to her music.  When I pop my ipod in while I run (I listen to morning radio on weekdays and podcasts on the weekends--rarely music), it is so I can enjoy running but zone out from the people and repetitive lake that I often run around.  When I run somewhere new, or somewhere beautiful, I tune in to the scenery around me.  I mean, people don't put their earbuds in when they run trails, right?

Two more posts of me forcing you to look at my vacation pictures (um, this cliche nightmare has truly happened to me....I once was stuck at a social function while a woman scrolled through OVER 200 of her vacation pictures at me....). Humor me.  The next post will be on the Subway hike, which, dare I say it, is cooler than running.