In The Buff

Have you ever found something and your second thought was, "How cool is this?!"  Preceded of course by your first thought, "Wish I'd invented it!"

That's how I feel about my buff.  It is simplicity personified.  For anyone not familiar with the buff it is a seamless tube of microfiber polyester.  That's it. But it is oh so versatile.  Worn around the neck it keeps you cool in the summer, warm in the winter.  Pull it up to protect your face from wind or dust. Pull it up over your head and it's a hood; then pull up the front and it's a balaclava.  A twist here, a pull there and you've got any variety of headwear. Or just a simple headband.

Of all the gear I've bought, my buff is my favourite.  I feel like Linus when I wear it around my neck -- it's my security blanket. And as all good outdoor wear should be it's moisture wicking, quick drying, breathable, wind resistant, stretchy and has active odour control that will last "the lifetime of the garment."  Hmmm...another lofty manufacturer's claim, just like the socks.  We'll see about that.

I chose my buff partly because it's so colourful.  And partly because in some of the books I've read about the Camino they refer to St. James (the apostle for whom the whole thing is named and whose bones are allegedly housed in the cathedral in Santiago...yeah, right) as Jimmy the Fish.  Don't ask me why.  I'm not current on my Bible stories.

But here's something really cool.  When I dug out the card that the buff came on from the store to test some of the headwear styles, this caught my eye -- Made in Spain.

Whaddya know?  I'll be returning my buff to its homeland.


Book Review:  Anyone who knows me or reads this blog must have figured out by now that Stephen King is my favourite author.  I would say that I'm his #1 fan, but that title forever conjures Annie Wilkes.  And just what does Mr Mercedes do for Steve's position in my author's rankings?  It solidifies it 100%.  (And hey, I've been reading Steve since Day 1 so I figure we must be on a first name basis by now.)  Mr Mercedes is a thriller -- there is no horror (other than the horror of humans doing what they do); there isn't a whiff of the supernatural.  He has written a cast of characters that I cared about deeply  -- especially Jerome...I loved Jerome.  And he crafted an ending that was sheer perfection.  I've heard (read?) that this is the first of a trilogy.  If so, bring on the next two.  If not, Mr Mercedes is perfect all on its own.  Five stars out of five and two thumbs up.  

The Sum Of All Things

The moment of truth has arrived.  

With just six weeks to go until I leave for my Camino it's time to find out if all of this... 

...will fit into this...minus the bed, of course.

Ready. Set. Go...

          

                            ...this = this...gotta love compression sacks...

...warm down jacket stuffs into its own pocket...

                        ...cool mesh hat folds into pretty much any shape you want...

                         ...and...TA DA!!!  It all fits with room to spare.

But time for the million dollar question -- how much does it weigh?  First let's put this in perspective.  The weighted pack I've been lugging around for the past couple of months currently weighs 24.8 lbs.  My fully loaded Camino pack?  14.4 pounds.  I put it on and it felt like nothing back there.  Oh what a difference 10 lbs makes.  Maybe I should consider packing the bed after all.

  

Challenge Accepted

I toodled down to my favourite store yesterday -- no, not for another dress. For socks.  After getting a heat rash on my ankles three times in a row, I figured I better do something about it.  I had several days in between each and it clears up in about four days, but I have no idea what would actually happen if I got a heat rash on top of a heat rash on top of a heat rash.

So the Wigwam merino wool midweight hiking socks I've been wearing for the past year had to go.  'Cause I'm pretty sure I'll be running into some smokin' hot temperatures, especially in September.  See the problem with the Wigwams is that they are long in the leg and I have to fold down the top. Basically it's like having two heavy socks on around the ankle.  But I also want that really nice thick cushioning on the bottom and the toes.  Partly for comfort and partly because my books are wide and roomy and I don't want to be moving around inside.  That's just asking for blisters.

So I picked up a couple of pairs of Darn Tough hiking socks made from 100% fine gauge merino wool.  Nice cushy sole but oh so light in the leg part. And they actually come with an "Unconditional Lifetime Guarantee."  Seriously.  Lifetime.

Here it is, right on the package..."If you can wear these socks out, we'll replace them."

Free of charge, they say.

No questions asked, they assure.

For life.

Pretty bold statements if you ask me, because I'm thinking about all the socks in my sock drawer that are down to single threads covering the balls of the feet.  Or all those pairs that have at least one hole where the big toe has busted through.  And basically they're telling me that if I were to own one pair of these socks and wore them every single day of my life, they would give me a new pair if I wore through them.  I'll accept that challenge.  Not that I'm going to wear them every single day for the rest of my life.

But hey, 800 kilometres across Northern Spain should give them a pretty good run for their money.


Book Review:  After having read Herman Koch's The Dinner, I was really looking forward to his latest -- Summer House With Swimming Pool.  Koch has created yet another wonderful morally ambiguous cast of characters and let them lose upon each other.  I love his first person narratives for reasons I can't say without ruining something of the reading experience for you.  I was semi-disappointed in the ending but I'm thinking maybe I missed something. You know how that can happen.  I just need someone else to read it and give me their take so I can go, "Oh right, now I get it!"  And there was definitely one thread that didn't get dealt with that I was thinking was going to have a major impact on the ending, hence my disappointment.  But I would recommend this book for the characters alone.    

Ladies...You Should Totally Get This

Every pilgrim needs to take something with them -- screw the extra weight -- to make themselves feel semi-civilized.  A pair of socks they only put on in the evening, after the day's walking is done...a little pot of face cream...a pair of sandals...whatever.  Something, anything, to feel human again.  So I'm taking a dress.

Yup, a dress.  This is what the ladies will totally get.  Nothing feels cooler, lighter, more free than slipping into a loose dress after a nice cool shower at the end of the day when your only change of clothes is drying on the line. There's nothing to pinch around the middle.  No fabric getting caught in the crack of...anything.

And as I've been planning this trip for going on two years now, there's been plenty of time to select just the right one.  The key word in that last sentence is one.  Because here's the thing -- the longer you have to plan something, the more stuff you buy "for the camino" before finding something better.  I've got two pairs of pants in my closet that are not going on the camino, despite my promising them they could. It's not good having two pairs of pissed off pants...but I digress.

So last summer whilst browsing in my favourite local non-chain store (Walk the Coast, if I haven't mentioned that at least once before) I spotted the perfect dress. Black and white stripes, light, non-wrinkle...perfect.  Until I hit the WTC sidewalk sale in the fall.  And found a pink splotchy thing, lighter than air...perfect.  Until I went in this summer and spotted a little red number on a mannequin that just screamed, "Camino!"  Not only was it categorized as outdoor wear complete with spandex and moisture wicking properties, but who wouldn't want a talking dress?  Perfect.

Then I got to thinking...hmmm...I'm going in September / October...it'll probably be hot at the beginning, maybe cooler or even cold as the end...the pink splotchy dress will probably be too light and too summery looking...ditto for the red one...the black and white one...hmmm...I dunno, I'm having second thoughts...

So I hauled the old Royal Robbins black T-shirt dress out of the back of the cupboard.  It's so comfy, like wearing pyjamas...black suits any season...my orange shirt can go over top when it's cooler...the warm coat I'm taking is black...perfect.  It's settled -- I'm taking the black dress.

Unless I take the red one...




Book Review:  There's probably a few of you thinking that I don't much like most of the books I read.  Yeah, I can be a little critical, a little nit-picky.  But here's one that I won't nit or pick at all and that I give a five star, two thumbs up rating to -- The Three by Sarah Lotz.  It's a book written within a book, very cleverly done as an investigative report complete with interviews, blog entries, and e-mail exchanges.  Four planes crash at the same time on the same day.  Three children survive three of the crashes.  A woman on one of the planes lives long enough to send out a garbled, cryptic message on her phone.  Enter the conspiracy theorists and religious zealots.  For those of you who like their stories tied up with a bow at the end, you're not going to get that here.  But you will get an ending that leaves you thinking long after you put the book aside, and maybe, just maybe a few of the hairs on the back of your neck will stand up and say..."Whoa!"  From me, that's the ultimate compliment.

Stylin' On The Camino

I didn't plan it, really I didn't.  But after I bought my Camino wear, it was pretty obvious that I am going to be one coordinated pilgrim -- and I'm not talking about my ability to put one foot in front of the other.  And given that I bought everything in various places at various times, it would seem the fashion gods had a little hand in it.

Started with my Vasque boots in gun metal grey...






...then came Gregory all decked out in a couple of shades of blue...





...followed by Arc'Teryx pants in "heron" and Marmot shorts in "dark steel" (but let's call a spade a spade -- they're blue"ish" and grey"ish)...

...and finally add a couple of grey Icebreaker T-shirts with orange highlights that just so happen to match perfectly with my ExOfficio shirt...





...hell, even my merino wool Icebreaker bra coordinates, you know, just in case a strap shows.




'Cause if I'm gonna be hot, dirty and exhausted on the Camino, I might as well look damn good doin' it.


Book Review:  Oh, this one started out with so much promise.  The Book of You is the story of a woman being stalked by a co-worker.  It is told in the form of journal entries that she keeps to build up evidence against him to take to police and in her writing she speaks to him...you did this, you did that.  The journal entries are interspersed with a third person telling of her sitting on a jury for a rape case that hits a little too close to home.  As the story started to reach that all important climax I was expecting a twist that would really knock my socks off.  The psychological tension had been building so nicely there just had to be a big payoff.  Then WHAM!  Nothing. The most boring finale with an even more boring and lengthy wrap up.  Wow, talk about disappointed.

Ironing Out Some Bugs

Apparently I'm being punished for the cocky way I've been thinking about things lately.  Yup, I've been feeling pretty smug about my training -- boots feel great, no hot spots or blisters, nothing else hurts...much.

Then I did an uphill-downhill hike, about 3 hours round trip.  And my 2nd toe -- you know, the one beside the big toe -- was sore at the end.  Like pressure sore. Lasted a few days.  Even the weight of the sheet on it in bed hurt a little.  So I picked up one of these to try out -- a gel toe protector. One size fits all and you just cut it down to fit, even if your toes aren't well...even if they aren't quite separated all the way.  Okay, webbed.  Even if you have webbed toes.  But dang if that thing didn't work.  Test drove it on my next two uphill-downhills and no more pressure toes.  They're washable and reusable.  I'll be picking up a couple of those for sure.

But the next little bug has me perplexed.  A red rash on the inside of both legs just above the ankle.  Right where my sock ends. And it can't be an allergy to my socks.  They're merino wool and I've been test driving them for a year with no problems.  The first time it happened I thought maybe I had my boots laced too tight and they were chafing.  But it's happened twice since and I know that's not the case.  It's kind of like...remember when you were a kid and you'd put a glass over your mouth and chin then suck in so the glass would stick to your face without holding it?  And then when you took the glass off, the blood had been pulled to the surface of the skin and it left a big round goofy circle on your face so that everyone knew what you'd done?  Well it's kind of like that.

I sort of self-diagnosed it as a heat rash but it's not sore or itchy or bumpy -- not like those pus filled bumps in the pics on the internet (shudder).  It's just there.  And it goes away in a few days.  So do I just ignore it?  Cross my fingers and hope for the best?

I'm open to suggestions.


Book Review:  Two Canadian novels for your consideration...

If you like to be bashed over the head with a series of unending metaphors and similes, read Lullabies For Little Criminals.  Some of them were quite lovely, some were exquisitely descriptive, but even a good thing can be overdone.  And the story telling just seemed random, one thread disappearing into another.  Perhaps that accurately reflects the thought processes of 12 year Baby, a kid growing up on the streets of Montreal.  But it just reminded me too much of all the kids I use to deal with when I was policing. All the kids who didn't stand a chance from the get go.  Some people call this book heart-wrenching.  For me it was just plain depressing.

I read Rush Home Road, the first novel by Lori Lansens, after I read her subsequent two books, The Girls and The Wife's Tale, both of which I thoroughly enjoyed.  Rush Home Road did not disappoint.  Told in the present day and in flash backs, it examines the life of Adelaide Shadd, a black woman who, in her declining years, takes in a six year old girl abandoned by her mother.  Lansen's characters are her strong suit and in Addy Shadd she's created a woman I very much enjoyed getting to know.
 

Training Mind as Well as Body

When I was at Depot training for the RCMP one of our training requirements was being subjected to tear gas.  Before the main event we had to go for a run to ensure we were good and sweaty.  The tear gas stings more that way...sadistic bastards.  We were then led into the "gas chamber" three or four at a time where we had to do some jumping jacks while wearing our gas masks to get our breathing elevated...sadistic bastards.  When instructed, we individually removed our masks and attempted to state our names or answer any other question posed by our drill sergeant through the intercom.  Some people gagged out a semi-response before bolting, others just went straight for the door.  The rest of the troop who hadn't gone in yet, stood behind the glass and laughed, nervously waiting their turn.

In the days leading up to the gassing, my troop mates were getting more and more paranoid.  Everyone, that is, but me.  I couldn't figure out why they were all freaking out about it.  I mean, how bad could it be?  You take off your mask, state your name, try not to breathe too deeply, then go out the door.  Piece of cake.  To what did I owe my nonchalant attitude?  Not a bloody thing, apparently.  I can't remember if I managed to choke out anything more than "gaaaah" before making a run for it.  There were people outside to take care of us as we staggered out the door; troop mates held troop mates who were bent over oozing mucus and saliva, coughing and hacking.  As everyone started to recover, the general consensus of the troop was, "Hey, that wasn't so bad!"  Everyone, that is, but me.  Were these people nuts?  How bad was it? Try the most excruciatingly painful experience of my life, that's how bad.  (Of course, that was before I experienced child birth...no wait...it was worse than that.)

So what, if anything, does this have to do with the Camino?  Days 1 and 2 in the Pyrenees, that's what.  The two days that can take people out of the game.  Because even Emilio Estevez, in his movie The Way, (**SPOILER ALERT**) bought it on the hike over the Pyrenees -- that dreaded section where you climb to 1450 m before descending to Roncesvalles at 950 m.  It's all about the mindset.  I have to lose my nonchalant "piece of cake" attitude. 'Cause I sure don't want a repeat of the gassing experience.  I have to tell myself it will be tough.  I have to tell myself it will be gruelling.  I have to tell myself no amount of training will prepare me for it.   

I have to get myself so psyched out that when I finish that section I'll be able to say, "Hey, that wasn't so bad!"


Book Review:  Every year I attend my local Arts Council book sale...and every year I donate back half the books I bought the year before.  This year I picked up 13 books for the grand sum of $6.00 -- it  would still be a deal at twice the price.  And it's like a treasure hunt looking for books by authors I like to collect.  Like Michael Connelly.  I started reading Connelly somewhere in the middle of the Harry Bosch novels.  The great thing about a Connelly series is you don't have to read them from the start or in order, even though the characters build over time and some of them cross over between his different series.  This year I was lucky to latch onto a copy of The Poet, an oldie from 1996 but one I'd been wanting to read.  The main character is Jack McEvoy, a reporter, writing about police suicides after his police officer brother apparently eats his own gun.  As with all Connelly novels, the story is strong and the writing is good.  What more do you need for a compelling read?  Except I get a little tired of how quickly his male characters bed the female ones.