Michael; Establishing Secure Connection

What we hear as peace
Is a morning of violence
Swirling around us.

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

As the late afternoon clouds begin to gather and rumble, it seems just about certain we’ll go at least another day, which will make it a week, without a land line phone or the internet.

We were able to somewhat mitigate this inconvenience by going to the internet café on Sunday. There, I was able to sign us up for a race in Costa Rica. That was a bit of a gamble as Costa Rica uses Colones as currency, so I didn’t discover how much it was costing me until I received an email notification that told me my 50k race is $60 and Kimme’s 21k is $45. Reasonable enough.

But I haven’t been able to call my mom, which I usually do on Sunday’s or Monday’s. Or to email my sister, telling her the net is on the blink again, so to tell mom we’re all right and I’ll call as soon as I can.

Mother has threatened to cut people out of her will for less offenses. Doubt the will is all that lucrative, but do enjoy talking to the old lady anyway and every penny helps.

Otherwise, the only hang up is confirming the faxes of my credit card statements went through so my fraudulent claim can proceed, and planning the rest of our race vacation in Costa Rica.

Without being able to look at bus schedules or hotels and with only a week to go before we leave, those small stressors that would normally have been taken care of, are causing me to get a bit fidgety. A race is stressful enough without travel involved, throw in travel in a foreign country and easily resolved elements (If I had the net.), start pushing the worry indicator into the red zone.

Also, since one of us has to be here in case the repair person shows up, it  throws our daily routine off. Nothing we can’t work around, but we don’t want it to get to the point where this small rash of annoyance turns into a festering oozing condition that’ll have us snarling at each other.

I suppose I could go the Moliere route and whistle “Always look on the bright side of life…”, and that would be literally true here, as at least the power hasn’t failed this past week.

Michael: Senorita Muffet

Incendiary
Winds strong arm ghostly passions
Into submission.

Monday, July 25, 2016

I thought all Panamanians were tranquilo, at least when it comes to dogs, but I was hilariously mistaken.

Yesterday, Kimme got to meet my mysterious running partner, Mario. We met while she was away in the states for a month. He took us on a new trail run that began at the Lagunas, a small swimming hole/ fishing pond near Volcan’s one mile long single tarmac airstrip. He also brought along his very vicious sounding but friendly once you get to know him dog, Pilson.

It was a great trail and a great run. Unusual for Kimme and I as it was more of a rolling farm road than the roller coaster trails we’ve been running.

Surprisingly to us as well was running into Kiara just as we were beginning to drive away from the trailhead. Kiara is a Panamanian from Panama City interning for an ex-pat we know. We’ve hiked with her a couple of times while hiking with the Volcan hiking club.

And surprising to Kiara was the loud greeting she got from Pilson once she was near enough to the back of the pick up cab for them to notice each other. He barked and she did a combination of Steve Martin’s “Happy Feet” routine combined with Seinfeld’s scream when he was told that he was given some of Newman’s blood. Is was as entertaining a reaction to an animal encounter as I’ve ever witnessed.

It was also surprising to me because many Panamanians chuckle at me and believe I’m over-reacting to dogs when I bluff picking up a rock to throw at them or squirt them with a water bottle. I just figured all Panamanians were use to dogs and  just took their barks and aggressive moves in stride. But not Kiara. Maybe it’s because she’s from the city. Maybe it’s an individual thing where she’s the odd Panamanian out. But as scary as it was for her, it was a relief for me to see someone react more creatively to a dog encounter than I do.

Michael: The "Special" Chinese Woman

The evening sky,
With its rosy western cheeks,
Is the day’s ends smile.

Sunday, July 24, 2016

Kimme is special, particularly to many Panamanians.

She’s special because when we’re out together most people turn to her to talk to believing that she speaks Spanish. That’s because many of the stores here are owned and operated by people from China. And though technically she’s not from China; she’s from the Republic of China, or as we Americans call it - Taiwan, here in Panama there’s no distinction between the two. Here, she looks like a “China” (pronounced - cheena), so she’s expected to act like a “China”, and that means there’s something not quite right with her when she can’t speak Spanish or understand what they‘re saying.

I find it odd because throughout my life I thought I could pass for Hispanic.
But I’m not fooling many people here. And it’s even more peculiar to me that in Panama when I try to speak Spanish, people will often turn to Kimme like, “C’mon help your poor husband out.”

Michael: Running in the Rain

Pulses, like heartbeats
Of white lighted arteries,
Streak across the sky.

Saturday, July 23, 2016

On our last two runs Kimme and I have had a chance to run in the rain and test out the differences between jackets and ponchos.

On our Sunday Quetzal run, we got caught out in a steady rain for the last two hours of our run. Kimme wore a waterproof jacket with detachable sleeves (she had her sleeves detached.) and I used a water resistant windbreaker.

When I use to run on the rare occasions it rained in S. California, I thought Kimme’s set up worked pretty well, but I wouldn’t do it here. Why? Because at 5k ft. and above altitude, the sun is a little more intense here and you just never know how much of a sun/cloud mixture you’re going to get. Also, in patches, the mosquitoes or other bugs can be a nuisance and I would rather lightly cover my arms as opposed to using more bug chemicals. But to each their own. As far as body temperature regulation goes, in moderate to warm climates, I think her set up works great.

Mine did not. My water resistant windbreaker was good for about 15 minutes in a steady downpour before it soaked through. It did seem to help keep in a little body heat, but that could just be wishful thinking. I do have a Craft running jacket that’s more water protective that I normally use, but it’s also bulkier and warmer.

On Wednesday we ran through a bit lighter rain and we both used ponchos. Kimme used my old sil nylon poncho, that at 6 oz. is just a tad heavier than my 5 oz. cuben fiber poncho. But mine is also bulkier. And on top of that the cuben fiber’s color and texture make it look like I’m wearing the top half of the Tin Man after he’d been crushed for recycling than straightened out again. Though it somewhat compensates for it’s appearance by making a nice rhythmic sound as it bounces on and off my shoulders while I’m running.

Both of us rate the ponchos as far superior in keeping us dry and comfortable compared to our vests, windbreakers and jackets. They also have the advantage of working over our packs keeping them dry while not restricting our access to our hydration, nutrition or gear. From now on, it’s what I plan on carrying for any excursion over an hour and a half.

For races that require raingear, because of the bulk of my poncho, Kimme is going to make a mesh banana sling I can store it in and wear around my waist.

I don’t normally believe there’s such a big trade off between style and function, but in the choice between the two, I’ve got to go with the frumpy but functional poncho over the more stylish but compromising choices presented by running windbreakers or jackets.

Michael: Not Net, No Columbo?

Red tailed hummingbirds
Zing between sips of honey
On sparkling green wings.

Friday, July 22, 2016

For the past two days and probably again today, we’ve been without a land line phone or a solid internet connection. I know the two shouldn’t be related, but they are.

However, since we went to storage last week and brought back a packet of favorite films, for the first time in our lives here in Panama, we didn’t have to turn to Columbo for our nightly wind down.

Though that’s a nice change of pace, not having the net at the moment is a bit more problematic than not solving well remembered murder investigations with our favorite detective. No. Right now I’m trying to overcome a fraudulent credit card claim and sign us up for a race in Costa Rica. Both are difficult, if not impossible, to do without the net.

The credit card problem, I believe, should be able to be resolved over the phone. Why they’re requiring that I fax them a copy of my statements, statements that they’re going to pull up and look at anyway, I don’t understand.

The race will require the net for sign up; no ifs ands or buts about it.

So hopefully, by tomorrow we can rejoin the net with however it interacts with our land line phone and resume our lives in this sometimes globally connected world.

Michael: Rat a Tat Tat

The heat of the sun
Will quickly sweep away
Last night’s cold nightmares.

Thursday, July 21, 2016

Up until last week I thought the drums of Volcan were dead. But they’ve been resurrected.

For some reason, the school’s here are very much into marching bands. We came here last January but didn’t discover how enamored school children are to drums until the beginning of March because that’s when the school year begins and the students go back to doing school stuff like practicing their instruments.

Some neighbor kid would practice the drums from around 7-8 every night often joined by some kids on horns. At the end of December, when school gets out and into November when their’s a few National holidays, there are a few large parades where the kids get to show off all of their hard work by marching down the main drag.

But since that time up until last week we hadn’t heard the dude practice. I figured he either graduated or was confident enough that he knew the routine where not much practice was necessary. But I was mistaken because he’s at it again. This time, I guess because he’s a little older, he’s pushed back his practice time to between 8-9. That’s just about our bed time, so hopefully he’s hit the ceiling of his practice time or next year, if he goes any later, we’ll have to put off our dreaming a bit unless we decide we enjoy marching band themed visions passing through our nightly delights.

I also just don’t understand the need to practice for more than 5 minutes. I mean for Christ’s sake, it’s a drum, not even a drum set, but a single marching band drum. Perhaps I’m a bit tone deaf to the subtleties of the sounds someone can get out of it, but it all pretty much sounds like Philip K. Souza stuff. They don’t ever break it up by stopping and whipping out the soft whisk brushes and break into any ballads or blues. No, it’s bang away with those hard cotton ball hammers from beginning to end.

Come to think of it, that would be a great way to break up the routine of the year end marches. Have the bands stand still and play their repetitive gig while the crowds walk past, that way the bands don’t have to pretend they’re doing anything new or complicated and the crowd doesn’t have to linger just to see and take pictures of their talented angel.

Michael: The Flower Lady

The sweet watery
Sugar of a crisp apple
Is a primal joy.

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Today at the grocery store we met a flower lady.

Inside the store, where she started to talk to us, we didn’t know she was a flower lady. We didn’t find that out until we left. Inside, all we knew was this sweet looking old lady, who first asked me what the price of a package of cookies was, (I felt proud I could translate the price in Spanish - ochentaycinco - $0.85), wouldn’t stop talking to us even though we politely tried to explain that we didn’t speak very much Spanish (Pardon, hablo piquito Espanol.).

She kept mentioning “lindo” which I knew meant beautiful, but I couldn’t figure out if she was talking about Kimme, or her hair, or the two of us together. But we both smiled and felt flattered that this woman was so persistent in trying to communicate with us.

Turns out, once we left the store, we discovered she was referring to the orchids she was selling as beautiful. And they are beautiful. We bought a plant from for $3. She offered us a cookie, which we politely declined.

Michael: George of the Jungle

Yesterday ended
In a soaking wet puddle
Of cold footed chills.

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Until yesterday I thought I had fallen in just about every conceivable way while trail running, except perhaps, cart wheeling down some very steep steps. That one I’m hoping will never show up on the highlight reel.

But yesterday’s was a doozy. On a slick patch of the Quetzal trail I started to slide and, in order to prevent myself from losing my footing, I went into a half tuck catch a wave kind of surfer pose that had me gleefully gliding across some mud. Gleefully that is until I banged my head into some heavy bamboo.

That was a first. No, not banging my head. Not that I do that on a regular basis, but banging my head while on a trail run while not doing anything that could be construed as running. I didn’t fall and it was more surprising than painful. And I actually got a good laugh out of it.

Michael: Sapiens are a Pain in the Butt

The indigenous
Women colorfully bright
In their shapeless dress.

July 18, 2016

Today was the first time this year I got to run the Quetzal trail completely alone. Well, at least without seeing or hearing another human being that wasn‘t related to me through marriage. But there was at least one other primate nearby and from his reaction, I don’t feel he was very pleased that I chose to go running today.

And I can understand that. Hey, it’s a Monday right in the middle of the rainy season. You’re a howler monkey looking for a little peace and quiet. Monday at this time of year ought to be a pretty safe bet that you could wander down by the river, stretch out a bit, take an afternoon siesta without being worried that some clod hopper human interrupting you.

Sorry about that. I really ought to have a little more empathy. After all, I sure do wish when our neighbors were cranking the early morning music I could bellow out my displeasure like you do.

And this is how selfish I am. I love your sound. It makes me feel special. I want to be close enough to you to not only provoke your audible irritation, but be in your face enough for you to throw things at me. If I were you, that would really piss me off. Too bad your thumbs aren’t as agile as mine or you could probably ding me with a pretty decent size nut.

But that’s not the only difference between you and I. You howl and throw a fit and instead of feeling guilty for disturbing your peace and quiet, all’s I want to do is be able to spot you so I can take your picture.

Michael: And While I'm Ranting...

The rumble down sky
Pitter patters wet brushes the earth
With crystalline rings.

Sunday, July 17, 2016

Just a few nits about The North Face in Costa Rica race we’re about to do.

Many race websites, including other North Face races I‘ve looked into, have an English translation function. For this race I can get a google translation of the home page, but that‘s it.

From my limited Spanish and wit I can kind of figure out a few other important good to knows, but can’t be certain (Sadly, both because of my lack of confidence in my Spanish and wit.). For instance, the race starts at 5:30 a.m. so the first half hour will be run in the dark, but they’re not requiring a headlamp so I presume that means the first half hour or so will be run on a fire road and not single track in the forest.

I’m also gleaning from the required 500 ml. bottle and names like “Gatorade”, there will be a decent amount of aid stations, though I don’t see any markings on the map, or chart, or numbers with kilometers after them. I’ll ask at packet pick up and see what happens. But it’s quite possible I could be doing this race without knowing how far I’ll need to make that 500 ml. last.

This is also the only race I’ve ever signed up for that requires everyone to wear the race t-shirt we’ll be given in our race packets. I don’t mind that North Face is requiring a store visit to pick up the race packet. Though for us that’ll mean a day exploring the Costa Rican bus system instead of relaxing in the countryside. But, c’mon, race wear can be a big part of the whole race preparation and mindset element that differentiates a race from just a get together of jogging buddies. I’m still planning on using my North Face shorts, but I’m not happy that the North Face is turning us all into corporate zombies.

Michael: The Irony of Trail Racing

The leafy sentries’
Imposing figures emerge
From the night’s shadow.

Saturday, July 16, 2016

Here’s the irony of doing a trail race; the more remote the race, the more it’s dependent on having a car to get there to do it.

Kimme and I want to do a race put on by The North Face in Costa Rica August 6. We don’t have a car. We’re fortunate that we’ve been offered a ride to a small nearby town.

Hopefully there, we’ll be able to find a taxi that’ll be willing to drive us up the jeep road to the B&B we have booked until the morning of the race. The race is on a Saturday and I would’ve preferred that we stayed through Sunday but the place is booked and there really isn’t much else around to choose from. So after the race we’ll again cross our fingers and hopefully not have too much of a problem getting a bus to the capitol, San Jose.

Naturally, The North Face has decided that packet pick up should be at one of their stores in San Jose on Thursday and Friday before the race. Without a car, that's another possible long day on the bus going back and forth between Orotina, the small town near where we're staying, and San Jose.

But the big snag is going to be finding a taxi that’ll be willing to pick us up at the B&B Saturday morning at 4:30 a.m. so we can get to the 5:30 a.m. race start. Otherwise my 50k race is going to begin with a very long in the dark warm up.

In the states I would’ve rented a car, but I’m not keen on doing that in a foreign country. I’ll have to see how this experience turns out. It may convince me to research the rental car option.

Michael: Coincidence?

The sun, the drizzle,
The breeze and the solitude;
Breathe in this moment.

Friday, July 15, 2016

Friday is gym day and when we got there at 10:30 I thought we’d have the place to ourselves. But by 11 the place was packed with more little gym rats than I’d ever seen there. And I mean little; a local class of third or fourth graders was having a gym field trip.

There were 18 fidgety kids in there dressed in there simple white and blue school uniforms, along with their teacher and I believe a parent volunteer. They seemed like decent enough kids, no better or worse than most groups of kids I taught and took on a field trip. Kimme asked if it brought back memories or made me wish I was still teaching. The answers are yes and no. Yes, I did for the most part enjoy breaking up the school year with field trips, and no, I don’t believe I have the energy or desire to teach children full time again.

Odd that when we got home and our internet was working for the first time in three days, I had received an email from the last school I worked at, Short Ave. Elementary in Playa Del Rey, part of the Los Angeles Unified School District. Usually I don’t bother reading them but this one was to introduce the new principal. That means the last boss I worked for, I presume, had retired.

I do wonder why she retired. Was her time up? Was she not feeling she was as committed to her work as she should be or once was? Damned, she had better not have one the lottery.

Amongst all the principals I worked for she definitely was one of the most dedicated. She wasn’t the best or the worst, but she did make me realize my heart wasn’t in it nearly as much as it should be and it was time for me to go.

Michael: Tears But No Onions

Gathering around
The possum’s carcass, vultures
Feast upon its death.

Friday, July 15, 2016

Wednesday our phone went out which means we also don’t have internet. It’s now Thursday afternoon.

This morning our electricity went out briefly, but was back up before Kimme was out of bed.

This afternoon we lost our water. Walking to the internet café and the store I saw where the break was and told our landlord, but it’s pretty late in the afternoon, so I doubt that’ll be functioning at full strength until at least tomorrow morning.

But the good news is at least the store I was walking to was finally putting out onions. On Tuesday, we went to New Berard’s, Romero’s, Old Berard’s and a vegetable stand across from Old Berard’s and no place had any onions. That was a first; no phone, no net, no water and no onions.

We can tolerate the occasional outages and shortages, but if Volcan’s shelves are ever emptied out of coffee and chocolate, we’ll be packing our bags.

Michael: Test Runs

Galloping across
The field the bull confronted
Us as we crossed paths.

Thursday, July 14, 2016

Last week I received my last pair of trail shoes of the year (4 pair this year - a record low) and my only new pack for 2016, so they had better be good.

First up, the Hoka ATR Challenger 2s. I have the first version and I’m very happy with those. So after listening to the Ginger Runner’s review of the 2s I expected to be very pleased with the update. So far, so very good. There’s no point going over the details. All I would be doing is repeating what the G.R. said in his review, right down to sizing up half a size.

I’ll just make a few comments about my likes and dislikes so far.

Dislikes, I still don’t feel Hoka has completely dialed in the heel. They’re better, but I still feel just a touch of sloppiness. Nothing that will prevent me from using them in some upcoming 50ks, but I do hope Hoka and I will one day have that glass slipper moment as relates to heel fit. That’s why Altra’s Lone Peak 2.Whatever will be on my next year’s shoe buying list. Both for variety’s sake and to see if they can do cushioning and fit for me better than Hoka.

I also haven’t had the chance to test ride the Hokas in the rain or run through any streams yet. I’ll be curious how they handle being swamped.

On the bright side, and I mean bright, is the color scheme. The yellow fade to orange comes pretty close to matching my tri-bike Gumby and Pokey paint scheme that I had custom painted (minus the Gumby green). I even ordered matching mountain bike gloves to complete the flash. That’s what I figure fashion is all about. I don’t want to talk. I want my outfit to speak for me. And I want it to clearly state, “let’s have some fun out here, and watch out for this old dude, he might be up to something.”

As opposed to the Hokas, my only disappointment with the Ultra Aspire Revolt pack is the color scheme. It’s their traditional red and grey and while not ugly, it doesn’t really work with the pizzazz of the rest of my race attire.
But since it’s mostly on my back at least I don’t have to look at it. And the damned thing is so comfortable and functional, looking at it is about the only way I’d notice that I’m even using it.

It’s really what I was hoping the original Revolution pack would be; a race pack that carries just enough water in a bottle up high on the back for short races or races with aid stations within every hour and a half of each other. I prefer it over the Orange Mud Single Barrel, which is also a great water bottle pack that sits high up on the back, because the Revolt has a better pocket system for racing.

The only downer with the pack so far is it’s hard for me to insert the flask back in its sleeve. I’ve got to reach behind me with both hands to pull on it to get the flask past the fabric flap that retains it in its horizontal pouch. Those flaps do serve to secure the flask while running so it’s worth the trade-off, but it’s still an annoyance.

As an aside, Kimme also has the Hoka ATR Challenger 2s and is very happy with them, though instead of going up half a size she ordered a half size smaller. She’s also very happy using the Orange Mud pack, which is a very good thing, because I’m not sharing the Revolt.

Michael: Money

Out of the darkness
The stallion brays like the horse
In Young Frankenstein.

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Money, as the song goes, it’s a sin. But at least here it’s a very easy to convert sin.

In Panama they use U.S currency, though they also use coins that mimic the size and value of U.S. coins. Their dollar coin is the Balboa. The half dollar is the medio Balboa. Their quarter is the cuartro Balboa. Denominations less than that are referred to by their value in centavos. 10 cents - 10 centavos. 5 cents - 5 centavos. 1 cent - 1 centavo.

Either Balboa or the crest of Panama are printed on the coins. If Balboa’s on the front, the crest is on the back. On one of the nickels I have, the  number 5 is in large print in the center and the crest is on the flip side.

About the only difference between using money here and in the states is here, they’re just as likely to give you dollar coins as they are to give you dollars. That still throws me off a little.

And also, for some reason, certain conspiracy theorists here believe that now’s a good time to hoard Balboa’s as a hedge against some upcoming economic crises in the states that’s going to significantly devalue the dollar relative to the Balboa coin. Why or how that would work I don’t know or plan on investigating.

Michael: The Horse, the Stool, and the Shovel

Crystal beads of rain
Cling to the banana leaf
Like fine jewelry.

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Since our neighbors moved out we’ve had a few wandering animals come by and check out the place. The most interesting has been a very fine chestnut horse.

We don’t know who owns this horse. We’ve never seen anyone near him. But whenever he strolls through the yard next door he’s always well groomed, so someone’s looking after him.

What’s curious about this horse is that at some point while it’s hanging out, he’ll grab this old 4 legged stool and start banging it against the house. When it gets bored of doing that it’ll pick up an old shovel and lift it in the air a few times. It’s a riot to watch, or maybe living in the country for over a year now has drastically lowered my level of what’s amusing.

What I’m really hoping for is that he’ll quietly come over, swing his head slowly first to the left, then to the right, then start digging until eventually the shovel clangs against something metal - the treasure his parents secretly buried for him when he was just a young pony.

Michael: Rides with Strangers

The metallic rain
Pounds out a sporadic beat
On the panes of glass.

Monday, July 11, 2016

The plan of getting around by bus and taxi has worked out pretty well. It never would’ve occurred to me that randomly that would be supplemented by free rides with semi or complete strangers, but last week I was fortunate enough to be offered three rides. That means in one week I took more rides from people I don’t know or could barely talk to than in my entire life in the states.

The first ride was from a neighbor who lives in Chile but has a home here. He gave me a ride into town. After grocery shopping, a local tour guide who we run into occasionally when we’re all jogging, gave me a ride home. He speaks decent English. The neighbor doesn’t speak any English.

Finally, on Thursday, the big treat was taking a ride from a truck driver that I had just beat running up the farm road coming back from the Los Posos hot springs. It’s a very lightly used road and the chance to race trucks or 4 wheel drive vehicles on it is a lot of fun. Surprisingly to me, I usually can catch or pass vehicles on the downhill and they usually make up ground on the uphills. I thought it would work out just the opposite and I might be able to tailgate on the uphills and then get steamrolled on the downhills.

 After the truck driver reached the intersection with the main road he gestured to Kimme and I if we were headed into Volcan. It was one of those trucks where the cab is really high off the ground and you’ve got to climb inside like you were climbing a ladder to sleep in the top bunk of a bunk bed. I’d never ridden in a truck like that before.

I’m sure last week was a fluke and I still feel a bit uneasy taking rides from strangers, but it’s a treat now and then that hard to pass up.

Michael: Lights Out

The rose and white dawn
Is a soft awakening
After the night’s storm.

Sunday, July 10, 2016

After two blown modems, two ruined splitters, and one shorted out phone, I believe I’ve learned to recognize when a storm is close enough and strong enough to take the precautionary step of unplugging our electrical devices and calling it a night. The other night I just barely beat the storm to the punch.

Shortly after telling Kimme it was lights out time, all the lights as far as I could see into the town of Volcan were put out by the storm anyway. And they stayed that way from about 8 at night until around 7 the next morning.

But that doesn’t mean we were completely out of touch technology wise. I could still read off-line articles on my little Nextpad. That’s just another one of those little adjustments that you’ve got to learn to live with when you choose to live under the volatile conditions surrounding the inactive volcano known as Volcan Baru.

Michael: 2 Out of 3 Ain't Bad

House made out of sticks
And tin waiting for the wolf
to blow the doors in.

Saturday, July 9, 2016

To my surprise Kimme actually granted two of my small wishes and brought back blueberries and Chocolate Stampede mix from the states. She also looked for my third magic lamp item, white bib shorts, but fortunately, didn’t find any. Fortunately, because they’re expensive and fashion and fit are a very personal matter, even more so when you’re talking about bicycle shorts that provide comfort for your tender bits.

I suppose there’s two ways to cope with these surprise treats. One is to savor them; make them last as long as you can. Or gobble them up like there’s no tomorrow.

My choice - the Stampede mix was gone within two days and the blueberries are well on their way and would’ve been devoured by now if I had remembered them at breakfast the other morning. Ahhh… Bob’s muesli with blueberries and almond coconut milk in the morning then scoops of chocolate and nuts throughout the day. Best to get them through my system as quickly as possible so I can get the withdrawal symptoms over with and fight off the rapid weight gain before racing next month.

Michael: Bizarro Honeymoon

The lazy snake road
Winds its way from the ocean
To the cloud forest.

Friday, July 8, 2016

While Kimme was in the states for a month we didn’t see each other. We used Line, which is the same as texting but it also allowed us to make free phone calls. We also emailed everyday. But we didn’t use Skype or any other visual app. It wasn’t for any bizarre religious reason or to prove anything to ourselves, I’m just not good at setting those things up and Kimme gets frustrated trying to show me how.

I don’t feel it caused us any undo hardship and in some ways I feel it helped us appreciate each other’s absence.

We also thought about the days when people would go months or possibly years without being in contact with their spouses. In fact when my dad was in the Marines and would serve his two year overseas tours of duty, I’m sure he and my mom would go for months without seeing each other. And I doubt they talked on a regular basis either. That probably explains why they were able to stayed married for 10 years and the spacing of births between my sisters and brother.

Not that I’m recommending it, or would do it that way again. We’ve talked it over and have decided that if the opportunity arises for either one of us to go to the states and work, we’ll both go. We’re kind of fond of each other and can see traveling for a week or two with each other, but a month is ridiculous.

Michael: Clean Up

Reddish brown possum
Stumbles at the river’s edge
Walking through the grass.

Thursday, July 7, 2016

After a month in the states, Kimme returned to Panama yesterday which meant my life of quasi-bachelorhood was over and it was time to tidy the place up.

I’m not a slob and the place is small so it wasn’t that difficult. Really just scrub, dust and sweep, not a whole lot different than if I were living in the states and company was coming over. Even most of the cleaning products are the same. Here we use Ajax, Clorox, but instead of Pledge we use a knock off called Premio. But it also insist it “brillo y proteccion” just like Pledge does.

There are two differences between the way I clean here and what I would do back home. Here, because of the humidity, very few people have carpeting. Our little cabin, like most of the homes in this area, have tile flooring that most people sweep instead of vacuum.

The other difference is cleaning behind the stove. The little ranges here, because they run on propane are extraordinarily light and easy to move. Cleaning behind them is quick and easy. I didn’t do that this time because I was a bit lazy, but it’s a snap compared to trying to move a stove in the states.

So the place is as bright and shiny as I’m going to get it. If I would’ve remembered to water the plants, I would’ve been an adequate house sitter.

Michael: Las Brisas de Norte

The storm wraps around
The volcano like it was
A hurricane’s eye.

Wednesday, July 6, 2016

The United States Independence Day doesn’t mean much around here. It’s just another working day without fireworks or picnics. But I tried to live up to the spirit of the day by doing one of the next best All American activities - I went shopping. Actually I had an appointment to look at some real estate with one of the local realtors.

The plots we looked at were in a neighborhood called “Las Brisas de Nortes.” The North Breezes, which sounds tranquil enough but could very well be one of those advertising euphemisms, like calling a development “The Maroon Lake,” which means during the rainy season it becomes a swamp.

The 8 flat, featureless rectangular plots are about a quarter mile off the main road down a very nicely paved road that turns into a dirt road. The 1800 to 2500 square foot plots are on one side of the dirt road. Undeveloped land is across the road. Whether that would be subdivided as well in the future the realtor didn’t know.

They’re advertised as selling for between $15,000 to $20,000. That equates to about $25 per square foot. Depending on where you’re coming from or what your expectations are, I suppose would determine whether these plots are a bargain or a rip-off. But we’re in no hurry so unless Kimme sees something in the karma of the properties that I’m overlooking, I imagine we’ll sit tight for a while.

Michael: 3 Wishes

Motley winged blackbird
Sings a crooked song as it
Rocks on the old branch.

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Kimme is packing up getting ready to head back to Panama after her month long stay in Los Angeles. Bless her, she asked me if there’s any last minute items she could pick up for me.

I declined but there are just a few small pack able affordable items that I wouldn’t mind if they made the trip with her.

Two of those items are food. I really miss blueberries. Kimme mentioned my sisters getting me some chocolate with either blueberry or raspberry bits, but I just miss the pure and simple whole blueberries we use to buy by the small crate from either Whole Foods or Trader Joes.

Whole Foods also makes a trail mix called Chocolate Stampede with extra large chocolate chips and a variety of salty nuts that is irresistible. Next trip home, that’s what I’m having after whatever race I do there. In fact scheduling a race will be about the only way to keep me from rushing straight from the airport and gulping a large container down of that heavenly mix (Can’t afford the weight gain or stomach issues right before and event.).

The last item I wouldn’t mind having transported here would be another pair of white bicycle bibs. Kimme says the ones I have are no longer as white as they should be. Hey, dingy doesn’t feel like a good look for a bicycle kit.
Otherwise, I’m pretty content as far as material goods go. And not always having what I crave within easy walking or driving distance is turning out to be, for the most part, a pretty healthy thing.

Michael: An Old Dog

Warm dry morning breeze
should be appreciated
before the rain comes.

Monday, July 4, 2016

For both Kimme and I part of the adventure of life is trying new to learn new things. Kimme’s trying to learn weeds and plants. She’s particularly interested in edible weeds and plants.

I like that. Hands on, right at your fingertips and functional. Eventually I’d like to join her in that area of botany, but for now I’d like to rekindle an old interest.

Before I left education I received an M.A. in Physical Education. When California was flush with cash, the Governor, Schwarzenegger at the time, was going to invest heavily in Elementary school  physical education and I was trying to be on the front lines of that movement. But as is the nature of state budgets, the funds dried up and it never got off the ground. Shortly thereafter I retired and in the intervening years, I haven’t really kept up with any of the developments in physical education.

But what could be more hands on and functional than your body? Even if I never set foot in the classroom again, I’m very interested in how this strange entity works. And if given the opportunity, I would love to coach or assist either adults or children improve their fitness.

Just like Kimme has her books that start off with the basics, I’ve got a basic anatomy book I’m trying to digest.

Can an old dog learn new tricks? I don’t know about that, but I do know I’ll feel pretty damned embarrassed if I can’t even learn some of the old tricks that I studied hard for and got a degree in.

Michael: Christmas in July

A bicycle ride
Is a labyrinth of pain,
Pleasure and focus.

Sunday, July 3, 2016

Kimme will be back from a month in the states on Wednesday, and yes of course, I’ve missed her and all that and we’ll sit down and have dinner and she’ll talk and tell me all about it…

But, hey, let’s cut to the chaste and start unpacking already so I can try out my new Christmas in July toys!

For the good little trail runner I’ve been this year I believe Santa will have packed a pair of Hoka ATR Challenger 11s, an Ultra Aspire Revolt pack, a Craft sleeveless tank and a pair of North Face shorts. I’m hoping I’ll like all those enough to use them in a trail race in August.

My sisters have also given Kimme some chocolate to pass along, which I’m particularly looking forward to now that I’ve stopped having chocolate every night.

And, naturally, now that I’m an adult there’ll be the mandatory couple of pairs of socks, though at least I picked these out myself. One thin pair of trail socks and one Ex-Officio insect repellent socks. I don’t want to be chiggered again.

That’ll be it from the states until the real true blue Christmas in December.
But I’m excited! Yes, Honey, about you being home. Now when do you think you’ll be up for a run?

Michael: If It's Broke Break It Again

Rain bounces a top
The corrugated tin roof
Like small firecrackers.

Saturday, July 2, 2016

Last week was the second time in a year and a half that lightning has taken out our internet modem. Odd thing is every time they fix it it ends up working better than before.

When we first moved here the lack of consistent internet service was our biggest disappointment. We’d go days without service and it was never reliable for long.

Then Boom! Lightning strikes. Our modem and splitter short out. They replace them and we had pretty consistent service. It would blink out every once in a while, particularly when lightning was nearby, but if we took the phone off the hook it almost always came back within a minute. Sure it was a bit of a hassle to have our computers go out on us unexpectedly and to get up and take the phone off the hook every now and then, but it was better than before.

Then last week BOOM! The splitter is blown apart and the modem is singed. Again they replace them along with giving us a new phone jack, and the net has been on perfect behavior.

Since it can’t get any better I’m going to have to really be on my guard from here on out as far as lightning goes and make sure I unplug the phone if I here a storm getting too close. No telling what the next strike or repair job will do, but it can’t make anything any better.

Michael: Indigenous Trails

Ascending into
The mountainside fog is like
Walking into sleep.

Friday, July 1, 2016

In the Santa Monica Mountains in Los Angeles most of the public trails are either old ranch roads or single track trails natives or early explorers created. Most of the trail system is now mapped out and much of it is marked. That’s not quite the way it works here in the highlands of Panama.

Yes, most of the trails come from similar roots as what I’m use to in L.A. but here the farm truck trails probably lead to working farms and the single track trails are still used by indigenous workers to get to the fields. They are not mapped out or marked at all.

Thankfully, that’s where Felipe of the Volcan Hiking club comes in. He’s a Garmin whiz and with his help I’ve been able to hike and run on some very beautiful and little known or used trails.

In L.A. I could go online, look at a map, strap on some trail shoes and be pretty confident that even if I got lost eventually I’d run into a sign or somebody and figure my way out. But doing that here on anything but the few well known tourists trails, with my lack of skills would be more terrifying than liberating.

Michael: Open Windows

Indigenous child
And I are both traveling
Here as outsiders.

Thursday, June 30, 2016

Ahh…leaving the windows open at night. That’s a pleasure I haven’t experienced here in over 6 months. And it’s not that it’s been too cold. It’s been too noisy.

At first it was the stray dogs wandering around the vacant home behind us. Some of them barked or would wander within warning range of our landlord‘s dog, Leah. In response Leah would bark and she has a very heavy bark. Odd thing was, there was this one little dog that she could care less about but that dog was the biggest problem. It would sit there for hours at night and bark. At times I wish I had been a dog psychologist because I could never figure out why it would wait until late at night to come to the same spot and bark.

But when people moved into the vacant home behind us, the strays left. Unfortunately, the neighbors themselves were a bit on the loud side, so the windows stayed closed.

They moved out at the beginning of the month but it wasn’t until last night I realized, hey I can open the bedroom windows up. Opening night and there was a dry lightning show. The occasional soft white light thrown up against the clouds was a long overdue pleasure.

Can’t say how long this will continue, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed that I won’t have cause to close the windows anytime soon.

Michael: Coincidence?

The nervous twitches
Of birds’ heads make a life of flight
Seem precarious.

Wednesday, June 29, 2016

Kimme and I are now half way into our second year here. The plan was if we liked it we’d ship our goods from the states over at the end of the first year. We did.

This year we’re suppose to scout out properties to build a small flat/studio. We only want about 6,000 square feet to build a 1,000 square foot home. But our shipping costs was way over budget, and land is little more pricey than I was hoping. Plus, even with the land, we wouldn’t be able to build for another year and a half when I can tap into my 401k.

So I approached Kimme about the possibility of holding on to our small nest egg and just continuing to rent. Use some of the money to take small little vacations into other parts of Panama and nearby Costa Rica.

And what happens? Kimme forwards me an email from a real estate agent we haven’t talked to in over 6 months. She wants to know if we’re still looking because if we are…

I did respond yes, just because the timing of it seems so coincidental I don’t believe we should pass up looking.

And now I don’t know how to feel about even looking at the property. What if it’s perfect, but just slightly out of our price range? Or even worse,  we can swing it if we live like Tibetan monks for a year and a half?

We’ll look this once, but unless some other serendipitous event occurs, that’s going to be it for a year and half.