A watery grave

I think I set a record for the most stories I have ever written in one day yesterday. Five. Plus taking pictures of two fires, writing up a couple briefs, filing photo captions and cataloging about 50 DUI reports.

But the pure absurdity of one of the stories I got to write cancels out any stress I might have felt after such long hours. I nearly fell out of my chair when a sheriff's official told me about this: At the edge of the receding waters of a local reservoir, deputies found the remains of a dog and chew toys sealed in plastic bags, wrapped in a towel, encased in cement, poured inside a cooler, which was sealed with silicon, fastened with wood screws and further secured with duct tape.

(On a side note, my high school English teacher would cringe at the ridiculous overuse of passive voice in that sentence, however, it must remain without a subject, since the perpetrators of this crime remain at large).

Attached was a note that said, "Mommy and daddy loves you," which is bound to get worse grammar marks than my own out-of-control passive sentence structure.

Most of my informant's quotes I couldn't use in my story, because they contained off-the-record references to groups like "tweakers."

Part of what gives this story such mirth, is that the alternative was so horrible. Officials thought it could have possibly been a dead infant inside the cooler. This blog entry would have had an entirely different tone if that were the case.

Lesson learned: I guess not all people think simply digging a grave for a deceased pet is the best option.

Reviving rides

I took a couple rides this weekend that made me remember why I love the sport of mountain biking.

Lately I've just had a hard time biking, partly because I am tired from working so much, partly because it's the beginning of the season, and partly because maybe I'm not as hard core as I wish I were.

But Sunday evening Steve and I went out and did a loop that we haunted often last year. Since it was later in the day, it was the perfect temperature, cool, but not cold. We finished just before sunset, which we had a nice view of as we went down the grade.

Monday, I took a ride by myself on a narrow paved road that swings around from one town to another in my area. Although it hasn't got the remote character of a single track, it's beautiful. The road winds up and over golden hillsides. Every once and awhile, you pass a few cows grazing on the little green left since its gotten hot, or an old farm house that looks like its about to collapse. There's not much traffic, so most the noise comes from the crickets chirping in the trees.

The whole loop, which only took a little longer than a hour and a half, left me wanting more.

Lesson learned: I love my bike.

Near miss

So yeah, I almost got in a head on accident yesterday.

I had the afternoon off because I was working last night, so Steve and I went for a bike ride. We were driving up the hill near my apartment on our way back, when we noticed car coming over the crest in the middle of the road.

For a split second, it looked like she was going to smash directly into the front of Steve's truck. The driver continued across the road and into two parked cars, just as Steve veered left. She was so close to the passenger side of the truck, I thought for sure she sideswiped us too.

We pulled over to see if she was okay, but she put the car in reverse and sped off. I was able to get her license number, which Steve wrote down. We were headed to the house the cars were parked in front of, when we looked down the hill and saw the car had rolled. Apparently, her brakes and steering had gone out.

I called 911, and it was all I could do to try and tell them what happened with the chaos going on around me. The girl who had nearly hit us had already gotten out of the car and was walking up the hill. She was in hysterics, but seemed to escape with little more than a scratched hand. It turned out she was 15 and didn't have her license.

The whole thing was so surreal.

After we told the police what happened, I had to run home to get ready for work. I noticed I drove a lot extra cautiously on the way to the meeting I was covering.

Lesson learned: God is good, a lesson I continue to learn all the time.

Riding high

I took the longest 12-mile ride of my life the other day.

The ride starts as a forest service road that peak's the ski resort that I live near. We had only gone up about two and a half miles when we hit snow. That meant dragging our bikes through it, getting back on, riding ten feet, then dragging the bikes again. At one point, I took a really stupid fall, which was just the beginning of my lackluster performance on this entire trip.

We decided to skip the rest of the road and just push our bikes up one of the ski runs to the top.

But just because we got there, didn't mean things got any easier. To say there was a trail that launched off the other side required a little bit of imagination. A lot of it was ducking under low tree limbs and stopping to lift our bikes over fallen logs or through steep sections riddled with rocks.

Three hours in, my arms were so tired it was all I could do to hold on to the handle bars.

We had just crested a ridge and were on the downhill to the truck when I think my tire caught a branch on a log. I'm not sure. I don't really remember.

Steve said I didn't make a sound. All he heard was a crash and he turned around to see me lying on my back, looking up at the sky.

In its entirety, it took us four and a half hours. We could have walked 12 miles faster than that.

Lesson learned: The milage says nothing of the ride.

Get a life

There are dishes piled in my sink. I only worked out twice this week. I had to cancel plans with friends three times in that same time period. I haven't had a date in two and half months.

I've come to realize, my job is taking over my life.

It's a good thing I like my job.


Lesson learned: While I was in Japan, we once drove by a shop that said "Life store" on the front. I think I need to go there and get a life.

Just call me detective

The past two days, I got to delve into that suspenseful, investigative mystery side of covering cops and courts at the news paper I work for. Someone found the body of a man who has been missing since fall.

It's a pretty wild story, but it involves a man who sold all his belongings and went up into the wilderness to fast and pray for 40 days and nights (sound familiar do those of you who read the Bible?). This was preparation for his a pilgrimage he was planning to Israel. But he never made it there. He died in the wilderness, and no body knows why.

I went up to the scene with two guys from the Sheriff's department, who were cool to let me tag a long. They were picking up the truck where his body was found. It's pretty eerie to look through this guy's things. Even though I'm home now, I can't help keep thinking about it, trying to rule out what didn't happen in the effort to find out what did.

Lesson learned: Don't wear clothes you like to a scene like that.

Putting out fires

To my great disappointment, my neighbor's street cleaner has vanished. Again I am baffled. Where did it go? Did they find a buyer? If so, how much did they get for it?

For those who don't know what I'm talking about, there is a couple down the street who collects random machinery.I wrote about it a few months ago.

Many unusual items have come and gone, but the street cleaner always remained. Until now. And I can't help but miss it.

But they haven't failed to disappoint in their replacement. They now have a white fire truck, complete with hoses and a sticker referring those whose house is burning down to call 911. The mystery surrounding this one is that it isn't always there. That means that someone is driving it around. Do they drive it to work? Does it dumbfound the firefighters in real fire trucks who pass by? (I can just imagine them sitting there with their earphones on going "Dude, which station is that from?")

I was talking to someone about it awhile back who suggested I just ask my neighbors the reasons behind this unusual hobby. Or business. I've been tempted, but part of me likes leaving it up to my imagination.

Lesson learned: If my apartment spontaneously combusts, I'm good.

Happy Birthday to me

I turned 27 today.

I'm saying that more for my benefit that anybody else's. I keep reiterating it to myself, thinking that if I do, it will finally sink in and, and panic of impending old age will overtake me. The past couple months I have been thinking of myself as 27, so I would be prepared. I think it might have worked.

It's not that 27 is old. It's not. It's just that it's getting a little too close to 30 for comfort.

It's not that 30 is old. It's just different. It means giving up that "20-something" title, which denotes youth and wildness and spontaneity. When you turn 30, it seems as though, if you haven't already, you should be working harder to be an adult.

But I think I am okay with 27.

There were, however, a couple disconcerting moments today. I got to the gym, after a day of work, and realized that I was wearing one black earring and one white. "Oh no, old age is already kicking in," I thought.

To celebrate, my friends Jenn and Sarah took me to dinner tonight. A little cheesecake is good consolation (Although, now that I'm older, it's one of those food groups I need to limit, right?). Yeah right.

Lesson learned: You don't have to be old to be spacey.

Parading through

Every year this time, the city I live in converts to its roots, becoming an old western town again. We have a parade, rodeo, dance and Mother's Day brunch in one weekend. The suspense building up to it is contagious. I've never quite seen an entire county embrace something so hokey. It's endearing.

My mom came to town this weekend so we could do a joint Mother's Day and my birthday combo celebration. We packed a picnic of strawberries, cheese, apples, popcorn and wine (because of course you can drink on the street during this event), and camped out in our lawn chairs for the parade.

It was great to be in a place where your greatest stress is putting on sun screen and deciding how to juggle the Tupperware containers of food while pouring a glass of wine.

Lesson learned: There should be more parades like this one.

Gone riding

So biking season is underway, and already my biking buddy, Steve and I have taken a few good rides.

It is the perfect time of year. The trails are all still packed down after winter's rain and snowfall. They are all lined with bright wildflowers. And temperatures still are bearable.

It stays light past 8 p.m. too, so our headlamps haven't been the necessity they were at the end of last season.

One recent weekend, Steve, a friend of his and I rode the "ditch," which is basically a culvert that carries our drinking water. It's about 32 miles of winding trail along the water. There are a few stretches that you have to walk on flumes to get across little canyons. (See photo).

Even a couple rides in, I'm still more timid than I was at the end of the season last year.

Lesson learned: Girl, we've got work to do.

Covering new turf

When I walked into work after being gone for five weeks, at least three people said, "I'm so glad your back." Don't take this the wrong way. I'm not bragging. I have a feeling that it has less to do with my irresistible and charming personality and more that I am a warm body capable or writing stories.

Yes, we are that short staffed. Amy joked that me coming back just doubled the number of our reporters, and she's not that far off.

Since then, I have worked about 10 to 12 hours almost every day. Japan now seems very far away. Maybe I'm a wimp. Whatever. Your try writing up bookings, a brief about a rape trial, a brief about a peace officers memorial, a brief about school administrator awards, a story about a superintendent's resignation, a story about teacher negotiations, a story about two burglars pleading guilty, an accident summery and a couple photo requests all in one day. (This was my Monday).

On a bright note, part of the reason I'm so busy is because I am taking over the cops and courts beat. It's not technically a promotion, but I'm pretending that it is. I feel like I'm a rookie reporter again, having to start from the bottom with every source and feeling completely lost. It's great, though exhausting. I went to research a civil court case the other day, and the lady replied to my request with a string of words I never heard. I might as well have been back in Japan. I'm enjoying the challenge. I feel like I'm taking a college course for free.

I'm still holding onto the education beat too until we hire a replacement.

Lesson learned: Just roll with it.