Glamping Along

Rock Cut State Park is a hop, skip and a jump from our home in Beloit, Wisconsin. Lon and I jumped into our truck, pointed it south, skipped town, hopped the state line into Illinois and in a total of twenty minutes were there. For a weekend getaway, this park is the perfect place to pull our camping trailer.

We enjoyed tent camping for a few years but gave it up when we got tired of all the work involved and realized there were other options. We picked out a nice pop-up trailer which got us up off the ground and solved many of our previous complaints. For several years, we spent every other weekend during the spring, summer and fall months in a number of state parks in southern Wisconsin in our pop-up.

A winter outing to a trailer show enticed us to make camping easier yet. Our present trailer will definitely be our final RV. My fellow blogger in London informed me that what we’re doing is called glamping in Europe. I have to agree with Lia that we’re indeed glamourous camping or glamping. If at some point we’re not happy in our 26 foot rig, we’ll stay home.

We prefer state parks over private ones, although Door County’s Wagon Trail Campground is exceptional. The majority of private parks we’ve explored offer small sites with no privacy. I can barely stand to drive through them, let alone spend any length of time in one.

We relaxed away from our normal responsibilities this past weekend at Rock Cut State Park, even though the time went too fast. Squeezing one more day into our getaways is a definite must in the future. The temperature stayed between 75 and 80 degrees during the day and quite a bit cooler at night, great for sleeping. Our neighbors were friendly and quiet which contributed much to our pleasant experience. I somehow survived without an internet connection. The initial withdrawal symptoms hit me hard but I managed to survive the trauma and gradually adjusted to the unusual sense of freedom that filled the void.

Lon bought a one-day Illinois fishing license but caught only one large mouth bass. While he was fishing I took a nice long walk, did some writing and reading. We rented two kayaks for an hour and paddled along the shore line of the small lake within the park. Our efforts benefited us with a good upper body workout and a different perspective of the park.

Upcoming posts will include my final photos of our resident robins and photos taken on a bike ride I took Sunday afternoon, after we returned home.

Going Camping

Lon and I are heading twenty miles south of here into Illinois for the weekend. We'll camp at Rock Cut State Park where a nice lake, trails and other opportunities to be outside and relax are ample.

I'll take my camera and post the photos here when I'm back.

One of the baby robins was flapping her wings like crazy today and I expected her to fly out of the nest. I'm hoping I won't miss that part of the robinettes' development while I'm away.

Have a great weekend!

Preflight Moments

+++ I peer through my window and nature astonishes me with changes every single day. In little more than a week, three stark naked baby robins burst from their aqua blue shells and since have sprouted fuzz, then feathers and finally, functioning wings. I watch each stage with my mouth as agape as the open beaks prevalent in these photos. If I step outside with my head wobbling on my neck, Rockin' Robin will surely poke a worm or two down my throat, if only to shut me up.

As the Robinettes mature, Rockin' Robin is guarding them with constant vigilance. I snapped the latest photos from the sliding glass door per the parental units firm admonishments. Their swoops and squawks drove me inside. Stubborn as I am, I reluctantly but with good reason (mainly fear of a perturbed peck or wrathful wing beating), succombed to their repeated warnings.

I passed long minutes over the last several days awaiting the perfect opportunities to capture the most unique moments. My efforts paid off. I'm especially happy with the photo of the entire family. At long last, I caught both parents at the nest at the same time.

The Robinettes are outgrowing their inflexible nest. When they stretch and flap their wings I fear one might topple out perhaps prematurely, although I'm confident that they're nearly ready for the next stage of their lives.

Continue to stay tuned. I assure you that the most thrilling moments are yet to come.

Please take time to click on the photos for an up close look.

Last Year's Danskin Triathlon

These photos were taken at the Chicagoland Danskin triathlon held in Pleasant Prairie, Wisconsin, in July of last year. Sally Edwards, a seasoned triathlete (she's done the Iron Man Triathlon) and the spokesperson for Danskin for many, many years is now working with Trek, the sponsor of this year's July event.

I was one of nearly 4,000 women who participated in 2008. The top photo is a random shot of swimmers waiting for their wave to enter the water. That's me in the second photo, looking down at my watch. We're waiting for the gun to signal that our wave (based on our age group) is to start swimming. The usually smiling and occasionally determined face in the remaining photos is mine. I organized my photo memories of the race on a bulletin board which hangs in my computer room. I took photos of the photos on the board to present here, thus they aren't great but you can get an idea of how the event transpired.

This sprint triathlon required athletes to swim a half-mile, bike a 12.3 mile route and finally run 3.1 miles. Time spent in the transitions from swimming to biking and biking to running contributed to each participant's total race time. In other words, the clock kept ticking so taking your time between legs of the race wasn't beneficial if you were challenging yourself. Fortunately, unusually cool temperatures made it a perfect race day, except for the first few frigid minutes in the lake before our bodies warmed up.

At 7:00AM, the start time for the first wave of swimmers, the air and water temperatures were less than inviting for a swim in the lake. I normally refuse to even wade in cold water. When the gun fired and I executed the first of hundreds of crawl strokes, my son and husband were waiting across the lake at the swim finish point. After I finished the triathlon, my son told me he had doubted I'd brave the cold water. He feared the race would be over for me before it even began. So I surprised him when I emerged from the lake, hurried past him with a smile and a wave and ran to my bike. After all the hours of training, ice cubes floating atop the water wouldn't have deterred me.

The training and the race experience challenged me and I'm extremely happy that I put in the time and effort to prepare and participate in this women-specific event. Since last year, I've been swimming, biking and running regularly in preparation for this year's race. A week ago, I decided one triathlon at my age was enough. I've chosen to treat myself to a relaxing camping weekend as a reward for my self-discipline in training.

I'll continue to exercise for as long as I can, although, I doubt I'll ever participate in another triathlon. I'm confident that overall health benefits, weight control and the resulting sense of well-being will pull me out the door and keep me moving. Perhaps I'll participate in some local biathlons and running events occasionally. My competitive spirit is impossible to totally quench.

Sometimes It Takes A Friend

I registered in February to participate in a Trek sponsored triathlon scheduled for next Sunday, July 12th. I've been swimming, biking and running so I'm in shape and I know I can go the distance. Last year was my first attempt at a triathlon in close to thirty years. I finished in fine form and enjoyed the training and the actual race day. Unfortunately, my enthusiasm is absent this year. As July approached, I tried to get pumped up; I wanted badly to be excited about the challenge; I wanted to do what I set out to do, but since I did it last year, I had nothing significant to gain. The spark that drew me last year to travel to the race site, spend the night, arise at 4:00AM and be amidst 4,000 other competitors is presently dim at best.

Yesterday, my very good friend, Sarie, asked me how I was feeling about the upcoming triathlon. We are very close friends who communicate through e-mails. In fact we met through the online writing class I speak of frequently. Sarie and I share our lives with each other regularly, so when she asked me how I was feeling about the triathlon, I came right out and told her.

Sarie had sensed I was dragging my heels even before I admitted it to myself, but since we think very much alike, she was sensitive. She didn't discourage me, but instead helped me see the situation, my true feelings, needs and wants. By presenting me with a simple question, she prompted me to face the facts. After a couple more e-mails between us, I woke up this morning and made the decision to let the triathlon go on without me. This morning I ran three miles because I wanted to, not because I needed to.

I've been irritable, angry, depressed, and a handful of other negative emotions because I was pushing myself to do something I didn't really want to do. I'm sixty years old but I couldn't see that my attempt to pursue a no longer desirable goal was actually self-destructive.

Sarie is a rare friend who knows me better than I know myself. Visit her blog at www.dayspringsarah.blogspot.com. It's always a happy place she'll make you feel welcome. That's my Sarie.

(Sarie gave me the book in the photo above. The author's voice reminds her of the way I write so she ordered it and had it sent to me. Pretty nice, huh?)

Crystal Clear Fireworks

When I was a kid, I wanted to go watch the fireworks but Dad wouldn't take my brothers and me. I know he didn't want to deal with all the traffic and other aggravations that come with crowds at big events. We watched the pretty colors of the highest fireworks and heard the explosions from our property, but it wasn't like "being there." Most of our neighbors squeezed in their cars and drove to locations where they had great seats for the display.

Now I'm an adult and can make my own decisions regarding where I'll watch the 4th of July spectacular. Tomorrow evening, Lon and I will drive to a used car lot on Park Avenue rather than going right down in the thick of things. I'll be much closer than when I was a kid, but "we won't have to deal with all the traffic and other aggravations that come with big crowds." Man, those words sure sound familiar!

I understand my Dad's reasoning now. As a kid, I used to scowl, shake my head and pout. Now, I understand Dad's reasoning. In fact, it's crystal clear.

However you choose to experience your 4th of July, it'll be a blast.

The Latest Update

(Click on the top photo to see how tall they're getting. I'm determined to eventually get a picture with all three baby robins visible).

Since my last post on Rockin' Robin and the Robinettes, I discovered there aren't just two, but indeed three Robinettes alive and well in the nest in our backyard. Yesterday, I snapped one more good picture of the young ones but mother isn't being as cooperative today.

I stood in my usual spot this evening with my camera poised, waiting for her to return to the nest. Out of the blue, she flew down, swept right past me and perched on the roof over my head. She verbally warned me to take my camera and scram. I chose to obey her only after capturing a photo of her and her evil eye peering at me from the roof. She flew down on the grass between me and the nest and continued to scold me. As I obediently backed into the house, I took two more pictures. I'm a female on a mission too.

I respect Rockin' Robin's protective instincts but I'll do my best to get some more pictures as the Robinettes grow. A few days ago, their heads were just barely visible above the nest and now they're very easy to see when they rise up. You can see in the photo how much taller they are.

Tune in again for another episode featuring my fine feathered friends. Let's give them a big old round of applause. Let's hear it for Rockin' Robin and Her Robinettes!!!