On speaking Spanish and eating pastries

Every language teacher tries to come up with creative, authentic and fun ways to get their students speaking in the target language. After all, communication, not conjugating verbs in the past perfect tense of the subjunctive mood, is the point of learning a foreign language.

So where is it that you usually find the intrepid foreign travelers trying to hone their language skills? They are meeting in the coffee houses and pastry shops of the world, hunched over a thick, black mug of java and a croissant , rubbing elbows with the locals and parsing utterances that may or may not resemble speech.

The upper-school Spanish speakers at the Mountain School have taken this idea to Cindy Bread in the form of talleres de conversación, conversation workshops. There is only one rule at these gatherings: no English. The incentive of a home-made baked good in the middle of a school day makes adherence to this rule successful. Kids often call each other out, in Spanish mind you, if they hear someone breaking the rule.

What do we talk about? The possibilities are numerous: pick a topic from a hat on which to speak, student presentations , improvisation scenarios, chat about weekends past, present and future, friends and families, plan an upcoming experiential trip. Students get a little taste of what it is like to try to figure out how to say what they want really want to communicate but might not have the language skills to do so. A little bit of immersion right here in Telluride, Colorado.

Telluride knows how to party

Telluride has over 30 parties and festival throughout the course of the year. They even have the Annual No Festival festival mid-July each year. Only t-shirts are sold, no events. Halloween is no exception to the must-party atmosphere. Everyone gets into it.

When I taught at Conval High in NH, about 20-30% of the faculty and students pulled it out on Halloween. Many thought it uncool to dress up and celebrate. Different states, different mentalities. Maybe it is the vestiges of the puritanical, have-no-fun history of New England. Colorado does not have that problem. Just living here is a reason to celebrate. Halloween is no exception. At the Mountain School we had a 99% dress-up rate. You just do it and enjoy the silliness of it all.

Then we left for the second half of the day to participate in the all-town Halloween Parade. Everyone comes out for it and it is usually snowing. This year the weather cooperated and it warmed up slightly by the time we were all outside.

The somewhat famous annual KOTO (local and only radio station) holds its annual Halloween Bash at the Sheridon Opera House. This year they celebrated their 33rd party. It has been voted the best party in Colorado by many a magazine. And I did not go. Owen would have severely disapproved of me foisting him off on a baby sitter on Halloween. Instead we trick or treated.

and then went to the Rock-n-Roll Academy Party at the Elks Lodge, a kid-oriented affair. A bunch of my students' bands were playing and we had a lot of fun. No alcohol, just bad coffee and plenty of sugary treats.

Walking through town on our way back home from the party we came across a few of Owen's friends playing outside a restaurant. I went in to say hello while Owen played and the parents practically dragged me into a seat at their table. It was immediately obvious that they HAD been to the KOTO party. Hey, free food. Who was I to argue? We closed the place down. We were the only ones there. Everyone else in town without kids was at the opera
house.

Socctoberfest excitement in New Mexico

Since arriving in Telluride at the end of August this is only the fourth time I have gotten in my car to drive over 5 miles. This was the second tournament for Owen this season and we got to travel to a different climate zone. As we left Telluride early Saturday morning, I drove up Lizard Head Pass under less than optimal road conditions. Ice and snow. But three hours later we arrived in Farmington, NM and 68 degree temps. I wanted to camp but Owen begged to stay in a hotel so he could swim at a pool and hang with his teammates.

Although his team only won half their games, they had a blast and improved with each game. The final game went into two periods of overtime and ended in a shootout. They lost. But they got medals and that seemed to help the pain of losing.

Farmington is not much to look at, but it has all the amenities of a small city. We hit a Target store, a large grocery store, a mall, Taco Bell and went roller skating. These things do not exist in or around Telluride. We stocked up on groceries for a month, seriously. Prices were about 25% cheaper. Instead of $7/gallon for organic milk we paid $4.50. for example. It's crazy.

I really did not want to drive to this tournament but Owen said it was the best weekend he has had in a while, so it was well worth it.

And this is what we came home to...........

I'm back

Ridiculously busy with this this teaching gig. I am often composing posting in my head when I am not thinking in Spanish or about Spanish. Loving Telluride, hating the separation from Husband and Dad. Loving job and hating having too much on my plate. Loving the mountains and hating that there is not yet enough snow to ski. Love living near fun aunt an uncle and miss my Idaho friends. We love parking the car for weeks on end and taking the Goose (free). We really miss the kid away at U of ID.

So, we hike a lot. Of course. Usually we are above 10,000 ft. It use to make us dizzy but now we have acclimated. We don't mountain bike as much as I hoped because much is too difficult for Owen due to the huge climbs involved.

We climb much more. The desert is a mere 100 miles or so down the hill so we can climb most of the winter. Moab is about 150 miles, so we can bike as well.

The Ride That Nearly Killed Me

When someone in the valley says they road The Loop you should ask for a little clarification. "The Loop" is a pleasant 25 mile road ride that starts in Victor and goes north to Driggs and then loops back to Victor via Cedron Road along the Big Holes. I have done this loop many times and it is a beautiful, though not too challenging afternoon jaunt......... "THE LOOP" is different.

THE LOOP is a lot farther and hillier. Yeah, yeah, I realize that there are those who do this loop with regularity, but I am not cut from the same cloth as these super heroes. I am a mere mortal. This was the most difficult 110 miles I have EVER ridden. I have ridden lots of centuries in my life. Maybe it's age or the fact that I don't ride as much as I once did, but this one defined my limits.

I got a slightly later start than I had hoped. I was not at all sure how long it would take but I knew I needed time. Originally I was suppose to meet a friend, her kids and Owen in Jackson at the climbing gym and it was only going to be 85 miles. That morning she informed me that she had forgotten about a prior dinner engagement she had but could still take Owen for a play date after school if I still wanted to ride. Hmmm....that means an extra 25 miles. Well, okay.

Contrary to Tony's suggestion, I decided to do the ride counter clockwise so I did not have to deal with the often formidable wind that blows west along Swan Valley and Palisade Reservoir. Of course that means I would have to end the ride with Teton Pass. Yuck.

I started out at about 10 am and headed up Pine Creek Pass. It is soooooo much easier to ride the pass heading east, short uphill and long downhill into Swan Valley.

I fueled up on a BLT and fries at The Angus before heading out to what was to be the toughest section of the ride.

Swan Valley to Alpine is spectacular scenery. There were raptors soaring off the updrafts of every cliff and the reservoir was populated along the shores and islands with nesting pelicans. However, there was so much elevation gain I could not fully enjoy it.


When I arrived in Alpine, Wy it was apparent to me that Owen would be joining my friend for her dinner engagement. I was not feeling too guilty, since I had her to blame for the extra 25 miles I would have to ride.

The road quality greatly improved the moment I entered WY; goodbye to chip-n-seal and inch-wide road shoulder. Rte 189/191, along the Snake River, is heavenly. There is a 3 foot wide shoulder almost the entire way and silky, smooth asphalt. It is also the best scenery of the ride, with the snow melt engorged river to the right and beautiful cliffs interspersed with forests of cottonwood to the left. Based on the number of rafts I saw careen by, the crappy economy is not affecting tourism too much in Jackson. I even got to witness an entire raft full of unfortunates take a swim at Lunch Counter Rapid.



My arrival to Hoback Junction was greeted by a thunderstorm that lasted exactly the 13 miles it took to limped into Jackson very cold and hungry. I opted to wait until Wilson to buy wool socks, eat Mexican food and steel my mind and body against the climb I had been dreading for the past 50 miles or so. I lingered over a Sangria soda and torta sandwhich hoping the pass would just go away. I considered sticking out my thumb and calling it a day.

Let's just say it is a lot easier riding the pass on a mountain bike with 29 gears. Under powered AND under geared is not a good combo. But I did get this great photo:

I stopped to take a rest at some point and put my gloves back on when I heard a noise to my right and there was a yearling moose not five feet from me, browsing on some quakie shoots. He was completely unfazed by my presence and cooperated as a shot a few photos.

The last 12 or so miles into Victor were both glorious and painful. I was beyond happy to coast downhill but this feeling was tempered by the incredible cold that was seeping deep into my limbs. Mind you, at this point it was almost 8:30, in the low 40s and spitting rain.

Today I opted for a short run.

Lefty lets us down...so does Nellie...as does the weather

Owen has been looking forward to the last week of school for some time now. Not just because it is Final Fun Week but because we get to spend the last week of school camping since we needed to be out of the condo for the painters. Owen dreams of a life as a true dirt bag. Its kinda his style. We have been offered many a bed under friends' roofs or even just a place to park overnight but Owen wanted to spend the first night in the woods. We checked out Mike Harris CG thinking it would still be deserted this time of year but there was already a camp host parked collected $10/night. We feel it should be free to sleep in the woods if you are surrounded by thousands of acres of national forest. We drove up Moose Creek and picked the first pull off over the bridge with a bear box. (We may be cooking meat, you know) It is a great spot adjacent to trails and the creek.

First let me explain that before Tony left me in charge of "his" van he gave me a long lecture on stewardship and how this van was built the year he graduated from high school and there were procedures and rules and blah, blah, blah..............

Upon parking I immediately opened the glove box to retrieve a trail map and found I could not close it. I tried for a good 15 minutes and even called Tony (he informed me that nothing like that ever happened when he had the van; he has owned it for 3 weeks, mind you) for suggestions but the damn thing was stuck.

After hiking and then dinner preparation, Owen closed the sliding door to the steady wind and rain that had started up. When I went to open it 5 minutes later to let the dog in it would not open. It was locked and would not unlock. Another call to Tony. Disbelief on his part.

So I had to let Nellie in the front door. She was mid-air in her jump onto the front seat when the smell of unholy putrescence hit out nostrils. She was covered from head to tail in cow shit and looking very pleased with herself. By this time in the evening the temperature had dropped to the low 40s and it was apparent that I was going to be wading in the torrenting, snow-melt-frigid creek with my dog and a bottle of dish washing liquid. After 3 washes she was almost sufferable and I felt like there were knives stabbing into my body where it was submerged in water. The parts that were not submerged in water were soaked from what had turned into a downpour. Nellie was no longer looking so smug.

The rest of the evening was fun. We ate a dinner unworthy of interest by bears: tortellini with fresh parmigiano, steamed broccoli with a hollandaise sauce and scrambled eggs. We played bat gammon and read some chapters of Lassie Come Home. Uneventful.
The next morning as we pull out onto Old Jackson Hwy I smell gasoline and stop to investigate only to discover gas pouring out from under the carriage of the vehicle. This is never a good sign. Another call and Tony decides he will be taking off work to drive to Victor to rescue me.

Thanks goodness I am married to someone who can not only fix robots but 1984 VW Vans!!

Summarization of Spring

I have not been very diligent about blogging this spring so I will just highlight some events. The title of this post is actually a bit misleading because by any reasonable measure "spring" never really occurred. It went from winter to summer in a blink.

Once again we met my family in Tybee Island, of the coast of Savannah, GA for a week of sun and sand. We stayed in much more luxurious digs this year and I've got to say that I prefer the simple, (and less expensive) one story, traditional beach cottage of last year. This year there was a new baby to meet and some of my brother's in-laws joined us.
Not too far from much tonier Hilton Head, Tybee Island is beautiful, small and not over-built. Howeverm I was very disappointed when I went for a run on the beach one evening as the sun was setting and the tide was coming in and the entire beach was strewn with the refuse of that days beach-goers. These same pigs surely came to the beach for its beauty yet felt no responsibility of stewardship. I continue to be shocked by the cesspool of humanity that our culture has created. It made me want to retreat home, one of those few places left in the United States where the majority of people treat their environment with reverence.

Last snow of the season.....we hope.
We returned from Georgia to rotten weather. At least the snow was off the bike path and we could resume biking to school. I grabbed my camera on the way out of the house in hopes that I would be photoing the last, winter's snowfall. So far so good.

Lefty Shenanigan the Vanagon
I am considering this Tony's mid-life crisis purchase.

As May winds down the sun is out in force and so are we. We have been spending most days after school riding into Driggs and hanging out at Pendl's Bakery and then the Skateboard Park. We are trying to built our mileage for our bike trip to Vermont. Weekends have been spent back in Idaho Falls so I can spend as much time as possible with Ben since he will be leaving to attend University of Idaho in Moscow while I am at The Middlebury College Language Program this summer.

Closing Weekend at Targhee

We were so looking forward to spending the final weekend at Targhee skiing yet so sad the season has come to an end. However, after skiing Saturday on crummy snow.....it's spring for god's sake, what do you expect?...... the husband made the command decision (his words, not mine) that we would drive back to Idaho Falls on Sunday morning to partake in the spring-like weather.

In spite of the sub-optimal snow and taking my worst crash of the season, in which I attempted to slow down via virgin snow with an unseen layer of crust on top that brought my skis to a sudden halt but my personage continued according to Newton's Laws of Motion:

Every object (Wendy) persists in a state of rest or uniform motion (in this case extreme acceleration) in a straight line unless it is compelled to change that state by forces impressed upon it.,

we had fun........That was a long sentence, however, grammatically I believe it works. But I could be wrong.




You will notice that in Idaho Falls it is much warmer. Same weekend as above photos!!


I already look forward to the 2010 season. The question is: Where will we hold a season's pass? OR Will we not have a season's pass because we will be basking on an island shore?----- Permit me to dream a little!

Another Moab Trip

I never get tired of going to Moab, but the drive gets worse each time. I want to live a car-free existence. That will be another post.

This time we picked up my dear friend and former colleague, Mizz Amy Schwarts, better known to the masses as Schwartzy, from the Salt Lake airport. It had been a while since we hung out. In fact our last trip together was four years ago during spring break when I picked her up in Salt Lake and we headed down to mountain bike in St. George and Zion. The weather turned on us after only a few days and we finally retreated to a youth hostel (don't laugh) in Salt Lake after having woken up to our tent straining under the weight of freshly fallen snow. At that time we were positive that we should have gone to Moab, since it would surely be warmer.

It was not warmer...............

Well, for the first few days it was seasonably mild and we got to ride some new trails we had never tried out before. The best ride was called the Klondike Cliffs Trail which was about 15 miles north of Moab. It was an out and back that was technical enough to be challenging for Owen and Amy. The out portion is a gradual grind that climbs about 800 feet in less than five miles. The trail starts out as a rough double track with some technical-ish rocky sections and followed by a 2 1/2 mile section of slick rock (Kayeta Sandstone) with dinosaur footprints fossilized along the way.

Before turning around and bombing back down hill there is a short section of single track that takes you to the edge of Arches National Park. The view at the end of the single track is the photo at the beginning of this post.

As soon as the really cold weather arrived so did our friends from Victor, Grace, Antonina and Sasha. Grace did not take my warning of possible cold weather to heart and arrived with two light weight sleeping bags for three people. She has absolutely no fat on her and thus very nearly froze to death. Upon my departure I gifted her two extra sleeping bags since I would not be needing them in Telluride and she would be staying in Moab for two more nights. What are friends for?