Saturday, December 1, 2018

Yosemite and Lots of Words

Could the View Get Any Better? - Glacier Point - Yosemite, Day 1 - September 2018
The thing about Yosemite you must never forget is that it does not have a free shuttle that'll take you around the park. Nope. Not even after you've backpacked roughly 15 miles in 3 days with over 6,000 feet elevation gain. Not even if your permit tells you to start at Glacier Point and end at Little Yosemite Valley. Not a chance. Don't even think about it. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Glacier Point is the prettiest point I've ever stood and looked out. Okay, that might be an exaggeration because this is Earth and there are a lot of beautiful points. But I couldn't have asked for a prettier beginning. At Glacier Point, Half Dome stands proudly naked surrounded by its lesser friends, family and enemies (assuming of course that nature comes to life when we aren't looking as I was told as a child which resulted in me, sometimes even still, trying to sneak up on flowers to catch them talking to each other). Just look at it!!!
A Couple of Nature-Loving Kiddos - Nevada Falls - Yosemite, Day 2 - September 2018
Day1:
After driving four hours, we were thrilled to begin. We started by hiking the Panorama Trail, which really lived up to its name—you know, panoramic. We saw four deer! One was clearly a teenager trying to be cool and hang at the back of the pack, a few hops behind the rest but actually just looked a bit lost. We camped at Illilouette Creek. That was a lovely campsite. We ate our dehydrated dinners by the creek (It was more like a river in my opinion.) Some of the guys had the best mac-n-cheese I've ever tasted. And then I went to sleep terrified bears would eat us while Ryan calmed me down.
Butts - Panorama Trail - Yosemite, Day 1 - September 2018
Up on Cripple Creek - Illilouette Creek - Yosemite, Day 1 - September 2018
What a Bridge View! - Illilouette Creek - Yosemite, Day 1 - September 2018
Day 2:
The next day we started at 9am to take on Half Dome. Our first stop was Nevada Falls. That place was damn pretty. It might have something to do with the horses that rode past right when we got to the top. But it also might have nothing to do with that and is just inherently spectacular. We then made our way to Backpackers Camp at the base of Half Dome. We ate lunch (delish PB&J roll ups) and left our packs to hike Half Dome. At this point, we're three miles in with three and a half more miles up and back and I'm wondering how I got myself into this but also really happy to be there. You know? So we hike up Half Dome and the views are wow. Being too terrified of dying, I hung at Quarter Dome while the guys did the ropes to the top. I took a nap while the guys were up there. They raved about the views. I raved about my nap. It worked out well. Gosh, everything was so beautiful. We all descended together, made dinner and relaxed by the river on the hammock. The campsite had toilets (!) where a sign informed us cougars had been around. Ha ha. But also scary. What a day.
Sure Hiked up a Hill for This Perspective - Panorama Trail - Yosemite, Day 2 - September 2018
Vanna White Never Looked So Good - Nevada Falls - Yosemite, Day 2 - September 2018
You Come Here Often? - Nevada Falls - Yosemite, Day 2 - September 2018
Quarter Dome - Yosemite, Day 2 - September 2018
Nap Views - Quarter Dome - Yosemite, Day 2 - September 2018
Watching People More Brave Than I - Quarter Dome - Yosemite, Day 2 - September 2018
Down We Go - Half Dome Trail - Yosemite, Day 2 - September 2018
Day 3:
We hike down the four or so miles. The path was essentially a set of stairs for miles, which was a bit tough on the knees and quads of those who have little to no muscle mass from not working out for three months (me). In hindsight, I loved the rickety staircase that lead us down the mountain. At the time I was focused more on my legs not giving out. Once at the bottom, the shuttle stop bench was the most comfortable thing I had ever sat on. We planned to meet at a bar in a nearby town. But that was before we realized the shuttle wouldn't take us back to our car. It was either buy a tour bus pass for a tour two hours from then or hitchhike. There were six of us. We bought the last five tour passes and lunch and hoped the standby list wasn't wishful thinking. Luckily it wasn't. And bonus, the tour was super interesting. We got back to the car and headed home, stopping not for a beer but instead in Nowhere for dinner at Taco Bell before carrying on. It sure was nice to sleep in a bed that night.
Shaky Legs and Joyful Hearts - Vernal Falls - Yosemite, Day 3 - September 2018
Ryan, the World's Best Hiking Partner - Yosemite, Day 2 - September 2018
Some Fun Bits:
-I made Ryan and I bring too much food because I was terrified of being hungry. Smart right? Well no. It really just resulted in extra pack weight and lots of leftovers we didn't want to touch because that's all we had to eat for three days straight.
-I almost cried twice from exhaustion, heat and out-of-shape-ness. But I was lucky enough to be with the best group who was supportive when necessary and not-noticing-a-thing when also necessary.
-Snickers and Coca Cola are wonderful pre-hike snacks. And now that I think about it, they're wonderful after-hike snacks too.
-I loved the trip so much. And I love reminiscing on it even more.
Glacier Point - Yosemite - September 2018
I've been putting off writing this because I couldn't decide what words to pair with the ol' Yosemite—I didn't want to let it down. It's a place, I felt, that's far more for the eyes (and perhaps the lungs) than the paper. But in true Leah fashion, some written something is better than no written nothing. So, if there's any way to end this, it's to urge you all to GO! Go see it for yourself!

Saturday, September 8, 2018

Trust Your Gut

Who needs green grass? - My house - Salt Lake City - Sept. 2018
I've been a huge fan lately of killing time by writing 500-word short stories. This is especially convenient when I have little to do at work because I still appear to be working. Suckers! Convenient when your pass time is similar to your work time. This particular story came out of a writing challenge with my guy. My story is slightly morbid, but in a fun way. You know? The topic was Origin and the length was 500 words or less and the time with which to write it in was repeatedly extended and go!
Meticulously placed rocks - Salt Lake City - Sept. 2018
Landscaper came yesterday - Salt Lake City - Sept. 2018
Trust Your Gut
By Leah Saycich

The cookies showed up unannounced but not unwelcome. Cookies weren’t her favorite treat by any means, not even close. Apple cobbler, strawberry shortcake, her mom’s cheesecake, a cannoli, eclairs, ice cream sundaes, peach pie, and fruit tarts all came before any cookie on her list of favorite treats. This particular cookie, the classic chocolate chip, didn’t even come before shortbread, oatmeal cookies, raspberry thumbprints, madeleines, and frosted sugar cookies. She wondered how they became the classic treat to bequeath upon others. But, again, the cookies weren’t unwelcome.

With one hand on the door and one on the frame, she stared down at them lying uncomfortably squished and stacked onto a single red paper plate. Some cookies were no longer flat but more of a downhill slope after resting half on the edge of the plate. They should have let them cool first. 
She noticed the stark contrast her West Elm jute doormat had against the cheap red paper and saran wrap loose and stuck to itself. As she picked up the heavy plate—they always weighed more than they appeared to—she had to remind herself it was a kind gesture, the cookies.

But kind as it was, the origin of the cookies themselves remained a mystery. What sort of person leaves cookies on another’s doorstep and doesn’t leave a note. It’ll be humiliating when a few weeks from now at a neighborhood barbecue she felt obligated to attend the bestower says in front of three other neighbors, “I hope you enjoyed the cookies!” And she’s left scrambling together a thank you three weeks late, and not in the proper fashion with a thank you card, for cookies that were probably made with frozen Nestle cookie dough.

But that wasn’t the only thing that worried her. If she didn’t know where the cookies came from, were they safe to eat? She wanted to eat them, of course, even if they weren’t among her favorites. The crispy on the outside and soft on the inside three-bite delight sprinkled with the perfect amount of chocolate chips, or were those chocolate chunks, to cookie ratio. The longer she looked, the more appetizing the cookies became.

She decided the origin of the cookies didn’t matter. It was a safe neighborhood after all. She unwrapped the plate like it was Christmas morning, tugging a bit too hard and a bit too fast—her eagerness getting the best of her.

Two bites in and her delight turned to repulsion. Something was very wrong. This was not how a chocolate chip cookie should taste. She looked closer and found it wasn’t a chocolate chip cookie at all but a snickerdoodle with walnuts(?). As her throat began to swell in allergic protest, she crumbled to the floor. The anaphylactic shock was setting in before she could reach help. So, there she lies on her itchy jute mat dreaming of all her favorite treats that would never leave her to perish on her own doorstep.

Hide and Seek - Salt Lake City - Sept. 2018
Trees for bangs - Salt Lake City - Sept. 2018
See ya later - Salt Lake City - Sept. 2018
I've taken up morning walks lately. Since moving to Salt Lake, I walk like 90% less than I did in SF. And not only did I feel unhealthy, antsy and just generally lazy, I also absolutely love walking and looking at my surroundings. So I decided to start walking in the mornings when it's actually cool enough out that I don't sweat my entire body weight of water. And there was a beautiful time period where I would say hi to a family of snails playing (or so I assumed) in the water of an early sprinkler, but they don't come out as much as they used to. Looks like I'm going insane. But seriously, have you seen a baby snail ride on the back of a larger snail?! Add it to the "To Do" list. 

Is the house crooked or am I? - Salt Lake City - Sept. 2018
The house not on a hill - Salt Lake City - Sept. 2018
The photos of the houses are the houses I see on my walks. They're all unique and beautiful in their own way. One house always has its front door open in the morning. Although I never see anyone in or around it. Another has two lab puppies they very trustingly let play freely in the front yard. And one has two plastic lawn chairs on the driveway where an old man and his wife sit and relax at the end of the day. I sometimes walk in the evenings too. That is how I know that detail.

Lawn over living space - Salt Lake City - Sept. 2018

Lay low - Salt Lake City - Sept. 2018
P.S. I'm returning to SF. I'll miss you Salt Lake houses. But also, where are all the people?

Monday, May 7, 2018

Commuting and The Chaos that Follows

The Lost Coast - Day 1 - April 2018
I wrote a story about my commute. I originally wrote the story for a writing prompt on ManRepeller — a fashion website turned all-things-life-in-general website. Spoiler alert: I did not win. The winning submission proved to be far more endearing and hopeful but most notably involves actually being on a train at the time, while mine mourns the loss of a beer as I wait at the bus stop. But, alas, I enjoy my story. You might too.
My Favorite River Crossing - The Lost Coast - Day 2 - April 2018
Sheila the Wonder Pup - The Lost Coast - Day 3 - April 2018
The Screamer, The Sheriff and A Little Sumpin'

On my way home from work I turn a corner and stumble upon an altercation. A man in his mid-thirties and disheveled to the point of concern is holding a beer and screaming at a man a decade older dressed in an all-grey uniform complete with a sheriff’s badge. Screamer throws an arch of beer in the direction of Sheriff but most of it lands directly in my path. I pause and look over, gauging whether it’s safe to run-walk past. What strikes me is not Screamer, but the fact that the beer Screamer is wielding is a Lagunitas Little Sumpin’. Good taste in beer, I think to myself.

The two shift out of my path, providing me the perfect moment to sneak past. I, like most people on the sidewalk, have learned that the safest thing to do in these situations is to simply keep walking. I do just that and make my way to the nearby bus stop.

So there I stand with 30 other folks facing the road but looking to our left, watching as Screamer lunges toward Sheriff. Sheriff declares, “Now you’ve officially hit a member of law enforcement.” I find myself, somewhat shamefully, wondering, Is Sheriff actually a sheriff? Do they wear grey? Did his badge look plastic? I feel like it looked plastic.

In response, Screamer throws his bottle of Little Sumpin’ on the ground. It shatters. I, again somewhat shamefully, think, What a waste.

The altercation intensifies as if the sound of the shattering glass were the toll of a boxing ring bell. With two free hands, Screamer is more confident, throwing open-hand hits at Sheriff’s face. Sheriff attempts to grab Screamer and pin his arms down. When this doesn’t work, he throws Screamer on the floor. Screamer’s head smacks the sidewalk. There’s a collective inhale from the bus stop crowd. Screamer gets back up. There’s a relieved exhale.

I think to myself, This is getting out of hand. I’ve gotta do something. Someone should do something. A young professional steps between them. I think, Oh my gosh, this man is a hero. We can’t hear what he’s saying. He must be speaking low and calm. That’s smart, I think. But then Young Professional takes three large steps back and begins flexing, pumping his right fist. Wait, is this guy kidding?, I think.

Screamer has taken a new opponent. Sheriff appears relieved. Young Professional apparently decides it isn’t worth it and walks away. Screamer’s attention returns to Sheriff and the squabble continues.

Finally, after what feels like hours, the 5R arrives, and I board my bus. I turn around to get a last look at the men arguing and find Screamer is sitting calmly on the ground, legs spread in a forty-five-degree angle while Sheriff stands above him breathing deep.

I take a few deep breaths myself, letting my anxiety dissipate. And as the bus rolls on, I find myself, no longer shamefully, mourning the loss of a perfectly delicious Little Sumpin’.
Sea Urchins Have Pretty Skeletons - The Lost Coast - Day 4 - April 2018
Cool Cats - The Lost Coast - Day 3 - April 2018
The photographs that are delightfully separating blocks of text throughout this post are all from my backpacking trip down The Lost Coast. It was a four-day trip, 25 miles in length, with an incalculable amount of smiles. Walking through sand and loose rock for miles on end is no easy task. It's definitely exhausting. But as you can see, it's worth it visually speaking, and as you can't see, it's worth it physically speaking if you like that sort of exhaustion. The trip taught me a few things, including I can do "it," I can keep going, and that there's certainly truth to the concept, "The only way out is through." Keep ya head up.
Not a Bad Campsite - The Lost Coast - Day 2 - April 2018
Happiest Beer of my Life - The Lost Coast - Day 4 - April 2018