A Tribute to Grandpa Joe

A Tribute to Grandpa Joe

Pat's maternal grandfather, Joe, passed away last week at the ripe old age of 93. He lived a good and honorable life so I don't think we should feel too sorry for him. On the other hand, I think it is fair to feel sorry for those of us who were fortunate enough to know him. I first met Grandpa Joe about 10 years ago, not too long after Pat and I started dating. To be honest, I never anticipated that I would develop a meaningful relationship with him. Joe was already into his 80s and had a passel of adoring grandchildren. He certainly didn't need me. However, Joe's greatness can be measured not only by how much he loved his family but also by his capacity to embrace those who might not officially be his family. He always greeted me with a sparkle in his eye and genuine interest about our latest adventures. And he never ended a phone conversation with Pat before requesting a few minutes to chat with me. Just days before his death, he was peppering Pat and I about our upcoming Mount Whitney trip.

Here are a few stories I would like to share about Joe:

Each summer Pat's extended family vacations in Rye Beach, NH. The first time I went, everyone kept telling me how that the water was unbearably cold. But, of course, I pretty much ignored everyone, since I thought I was a tough Montana chick who knew cold water. When I arrived at the beach, Grandpa Joe was swimming. I jumped right in. Mistake! The water was painfully cold. However, not to be outdone by an octogenarian, I vowed to myself not to leave the water until Joe did. A very long time later, when my lips were blue, the hair on my arms was standing straight up, and my skin was puckered, I gave up and headed for the beach. Joe, meanwhile, keep swimming!

When Joe found out that I was a big baseball fan, yet had never seen the Red Sox play, he became determined that I should see a game at Fenway. He managed to get two tickets, just for Pat and I, to a game the very day we flew in from Montana. After spending all day in the air, Pat and I headed straight to Fenway where they gave us little cards commemorating the life of Ted Williams. Both Pat and I looked at each other and said "Did Ted Williams die?" We turned around to the people sitting behind us, and asked. Sure enough, Ted Williams had died that morning!

My last memory:

When Pat's sister Kerrie got married in April, Nana and Joe were right there for the festivities. Joe walked a little bit slower and seemed a little older than I remembered, and I suspected that it would be the last time I saw him. However, that didn't stop him from dragging ME out to the dance floor when he saw me sitting alone at my table while everyone else danced. Even at 93, he had more rhythm than me!

Kimberly from Texas visits

Our friend Kimberly from Texas visited us in Long Beach the weekend of June 21-23. Kimberly and I met when we did a running program together through Luke's Locker, the running store where Pat worked in Fort Worth. She must be a pretty tolerant person since we became friends while I was very much not at my best-- on 6 a.m. Saturday morning runs.

Pat and Kimberly at the Belmont Pier--right after a tasty dinner at the Belmont Brewing Company--one of our favorite places to eat on the water.

The next day we went down to Surf City, USA--Huntington Beach. People there were doing all the usual California Beach things. Like hard-core volleyball.

And surfing.

Every beach town has a pier, and here we are in front of the Huntington Beach one.

Kimberly and I in front of the HB pier.

And, of course, we need some street performers. This guy did a triple flip over these volunteers. We were impressed!

Then we went to one of our favorite breakfast spots-River's End Cafe. It is right on the water in Seal Beach (just 100 yards south of Long Beach) where the San Gabriel River flows into the Pacific.

Camping in Joshua Tree

Pat and I went camping in Joshua Tree in March. They say spring is the best time to visit the park but I wouldn't go that far. The wind howled the entire time we were there, and it was bitterly cold. When we arrived at the visitor's center, the sign said that all the campgrounds were full. However, when we talked to the ranger, she said "Nah, most people are pulling out because of this weather so you shouldn't have any problem finding a spot." That statement might have deterred campers with a few more brains (or less of a proclivity for suffering) than Pat and I.

This Joshua Tree was right by our campsite. The trees really do look like a Dr. Seuss creation!

Lost Horse Mine.

The weather looks good, doesn't it? This is Saturday evening. We were very lucky to find a campsite where we could pitch our tent in a sheltered area.

I was very chagrined to find out that it was SNOWING when I got up at 5 a.m. to go to the bathroom.

Katie and Gumby. I took this picture when I got back into the tent. Check out the frozen water bottle in the background. Why do we do it?

The next morning we did at seven-mile hike to the Lost Palms Oasis. That was after we drove 20 miles out of our way looking for some hot coffee (no luck). These palm trees reminded me of the Sesame Street character Snuffleupagus.

Lost Palms Oasis.

Judith--Summer Visitor #1

My sister Judith visited from Pennsylvania over Memorial Day weekend. She came seeking warm Southern California weather and sunshine. She didn't get quite that--it poured Friday night when we were at the CSULB baseball game and remained chilly and cloudy for most of the weekend. However, we still managed to have a little fun.

We went to the wineries in Temecula Sunday. Temecula isn't Napa but it is only an hour away and is in a beautiful area. Plus, there was wine. This is Judy and Pat at Wilson Creek, a beautiful winery that makes the most amazing almond champagne (and I don't even like champagne).

Judy and I at the Falkner Vineyard.

Pat and I at Falkner.

We also traveled 22 miles across the sea to beautiful Catalina Island. Most of the island remains wild backcountry with just two small villages on the shore. William Wrigley, the chewing gum magnet, began visiting the island in 1922 and is largely responsible for its preservation. The Chicago Cubs even held spring training on the island from 1921-1951. And--get this--there are a herd of bison on the island which are left over from a movie shoot in 1924. We didn't get to the interior of the island to see the bison. We saved that for next time.
We did a five mile hike that climbed two and a half miles for great ocean views and ended at the Botanic Gardens.

The scenery was beautiful!

This is the huge momument to William Wrigley at the top of the Botanic Gardens. I think his remains were buried here at one time. All the building materials including the tiles were made right on Catalina Island!

Mount San Gorgonio

Mount San Gorgonio

Southern California's Highest Peak

11,499

Pat, long-time friend Rose from my IUP days, and I did backpacking trip June 14-15 to the summit of Mount San Gorgonio as a training trip for our attempt of Mount Whitney later this summer. I orginally thought this trip would be a true Katie and Pat adventure--in other words, a real sufferfest. It had all the hallmarks: long mileages (14 + miles the second day), bear warnings at the trailhead, and huge elevation gains (5,500 feet to the summit). However, in the end, it actually went really well. Here are some highlights:

Rose and Pat at the trailhead. Our packs weighed between 28 and 35 pounds. Mine was the lightest, both because I didn't have to carry a tent (thanks, Pat), and I am fanatical about buying lightweight gear.


Up, up and away. This is about halfway.

Here is Pat displaying his athleticism. Pat was amazing on this hike--right with me the whole way despite almost no exercise in the past few months. I wish I had that much natural fitness.

Pat and I arrived on the summit a little before Rose, and I got a few shots of her final approach. I'm pretty sure she gave me the finger shortly after I snapped this one.

Rose and Pat at the summt

This varmit tried to eat my lunch!

Do we look like hillbillies or what?

Overall, this was just a great hike. The trailhead was only 89 miles from the LBC. The next day I didn't even feel sore. Hopefully, this bodes well for our Whitney attempt next month. Stay tuned...