Tahoe Footos have been posted

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Peaklet Bagging in Tahoe

Aahhh...Tahoe in the Fall: the crisp mountain air, the quivering golden leaves of the Aspen trees and the siren song of one last run up the mountain before the snow hits. This idyllic scenario blown to bits the day before with a respectable dumping of snow in the Sierras.

But what a difference 24 hours makes. Early morning surveillance would reveal clear skies and optimal conditions for a frontal assault up Dick's Peak—a mountain top clearly begging to be bagged by a threesome and a finger puppet named Foo.

Our summit team would consist of 4: Mama Foo, Irish "Annie" Colleen, "Bobcat" Bob and our mascot—Ms. Foo herself. Sadly, we would have to leave Dave and Steve behind at the Waffle Hut to ponder how to expend their overabundance of carbohydrates.

The bullet: 4" of snow to trailblaze, 8 solid hours and 12 miles of rocky terrain to hike, 1 sunburned neck, 3000' vertical gain—and a wise decision to bail at Dick's 9500' Peaklet instead of the summit which hovers a skosh under 10000' at 9974'. Safety tip: getting down the mountain safely is just as important as getting to the top.

But Bunny will be back to bag this peak, even if it's the last notch on her belt. To be continued next Spring...

With Age comes Wisdom

Some folks prefer to spend their birthday eating Devil's Food cake in the oxygen-rich flatlands of suburbia—but not Foo. She prefers the lung-burning exercise of scaling Northern California's highest peaks; reflecting on days gone by in the comfort of her hiking boots, a cheese sandwich and a handful of chocolate chip cookies.

Somehow life is simpler at 10,000'. No work woes or drama queens to deal with, just the pleasure of finding your groove pace while winding your way up 1,400' of switchbacks in an hour. There's no email, voice or text message to answer—just the call of thirst and hunger. Or perhaps the tiny blister on your right toe that quietly reminds you it's there but not a big deal.

Life is good—but better at altitude, she thinks.