The Boondocks Ain't So Bad!

As you know I recently moved back into Park City from Peoa, also known as “the middle of nowhere”. Life has become pretty great. 

My house now is approximately four minutes from the grocery store. Peoa is approximately twenty-eight minutes. But if you are a “red light magnet”, which always seems to happen, you are looking closer to a thirty-two minute drive. 

The BEAUTIFUL drive.
*that was sarcasm* 

Let me clarify for you: It’s after dinner, in Peoa, and Mom is making cookies for dessert. OH NO, she forgot the milk. That is a twenty-eight minute drive to the nearest grocery store even if she doesn’t get stopped once. AND our family is safe to make the assumption that there will be no dessert on our table that night. 

Now for the other side of town, Mom is at home (in Park City) making brownies and realizes she forgot the flour… #NOBIGGY. She can drive to the nearest grocery store and be back within the time it would take to even get to the store from Peoa. 

Your possible thought process: “Well I understand that the drive is long but it is probably beautiful the entire way so it can’t be that bad, right?” WRONG. Actually I guess it depends on the person. 

Our cute little farm!

The drive is three colors. Black, being the asphalt of the road. Blue, obviously the color of the sky. And a tannish-brown, which makes up just about everything else. Oh wait, I’m forgetting one. Red, the color of blood. I mean if you enjoy a bland drive accompanied by the bloody guts of roadkill sprawled across the road you would probably take pleasure in driving down Brown’s Canyon. 

I’m sorry, I am being negative again. Peoa isn’t that bad once you get there, it is just the drive that triggers my complaints. 

For instance, that twenty-eight minute drive actually produces a lot of privacy. But seriously, the only sounds I hear out there are the chirps of birds, the moos of cows, and the occasional firing of hunter's gunshots. It makes me feel part of nature. 

As you should know, my family owns two donkeys. It was nice living in Peoa because the animals were only a single hop of the fence away. Eventually we will move back to Peoa, but until then someone will have to make the twenty-eight minute drive to feed the livestock each day. Sadly, this person isn't usually me so I don’t get to see my cute little donkey-donks as often! We also left behind four horses but that wasn’t as hard for me, we weren’t exactly “friends.” 

Blogging always makes me think twice. When I began this post I thought it would mostly comprise my thoughts on not missing Peoa at all. And look where we ended up! I guess Peoa is just like everything else in the world, once you get passed the complications, the perks will reveal. However, the perks will not just uncover themselves, it is up to you to become open to a different perspective. 

Or sometimes the "perks" are right in front of you!

Not So Merry Christmas

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year!”

Christmas lights are going up, snow if falling down, and the holiday cheer is all around! #PoetryByME. HOWEVER, it seems as though the jolly is taking place everywhere besides the place I call home. “Have a holly jolly Christmas and in case you didn't hear”. I guess we didn’t hear. 

It is December 7th, most families in Park City have their trees up and decorated. Well, all but one. 

What most houses in PC look like...
(Photo Courtesy: My Friend Shaye)

What our house looks like. 

Usually our family goes snowmobiling in the Uintas to chop down our tree. Not to mention the date of this expedition is usually December 1st. Today is the 7th. December 7th, and there is currently no big green spruce in my living room. Unacceptable. On top of that, I am also starting to get the vibe from my mom that this special Christmas tree hunting day is not going to take place this year at all. Intolerable. What are we going to do, buy a tree at the nursery? I don’t know that I could live with a “store bought” tree, they are too… Perfect! Every year my family ends up with a lopsided, scrawny, unattractive tree… It’s tradition! As far as I know they don’t sell any trees like that at the supermarket. “Rocking around the Christmas Tree” I hope we get to do this at some point. 

One of the three wreaths.

Christmas time is beautiful. Usually. Everything is covered in shimmery white stuff which makes all the christmas lights pop really well. The atmosphere just isn’t the same this year. The white stuff is completely MIA and the lights are dull against the mud and slush. AND, it was feeling a little hot today so I decided to check the temperature. Fifty degrees! IN DECEMBER. “I'm dreaming of a White Christmas. Just like the ones I used to know.” No clarification needed. 

I guess I should be happy because my family did put a record number of three wreaths up on doors around our house. But that is all we have… Oh wait I almost forgot! We also have these three little glass trees that sit atop our piano. Lots of festivity up in here! Not. “Deck the halls with boughs of holly, Fa la la la la la la la!” Apparently we don’t know what “boughs of holly” are.

To top it off, my sister, Katy, goes to college in Vermont. This holiday break she has been given the grand number of five whole days at home. FIVE DAYS. I’m not even kidding. Note to families who still have all their birds in their nest: Ski racing in college will be fun 99 percent of the time, but do not expect to see your child for a large portion of holiday breaks. It is the key time for training and the coaches are willing to do anything to take advantage of it. All I can say is that those five days that Katy is here are going to be crammed with all of the usual holiday activities. “All I want for Christmas is you!” Come home soon!

I am left with nine words, and two question marks: “Where are you Christmas? Why can’t I find you?” 

Life Is Good

It was 6:47 pm on a Sunday night and I was struggling to think of something to blog about. The usual thought process: “What is something that I can vent on that has recently happened in my life?” Then an unexpected thought popped into my head: “Wait, why do I have to write about something negative?” 

Now it is 6:49 pm and I have the idea. A blog post about how completely awesome and spectacular my life is right now.

Tuesday, November 11th:

“I live in Park City.” I have said those words too many times to count in the past year. Honest hour: I was lying. Whew! I’m glad I got that off my chest! I have been living in Peoa while our home in Park City was getting an addition. Seriously, how long can it possibly take to add a garage and one room to a house? Apparently an extremely long time. The remodel began in October of 2013 and was supposed to be finished in April. Then the date got pushed to July. Then September. November 11th. The day I finally became an official Park City resident. That is something to be more than happy about!

Takin' my pup for a walk in the fresh snow!

Thursday, November 13th: 

There is only one thing that can put a smile on my face when I wake up at 6:00 am to head to the dungeon, aka school: Snow falling from the sky! Any kid living in Park City can relate. Snow means the beginning of many things: Sledding, wearing puffy coats, Drinking hot cocoa, Wearing UGGS, ice skating, a possible snow day, feeling cozy, catching snowflakes on your tongue, wearing sweaters, and my all time favorite: Listening to Christmas music. I wait all year for that fluffy white stuff to fall from the sky so when the day finally comes, I am obliged to write about it. 

Friday, November 14th: 

Happiness in a box.
(Photo Courtesy: Nationwide Candy)

I am just going to put it out there now that most adults will not understand how this event made the cut to be retold on this blog. Most kids, specifically ones with Mrs. Alplanalp as a teacher, on the other hand will totally see my point of view. Fourth period. This is usually the time of day when students start to tune out learning. The only thing they want to listen to is the sound of their face hitting the pillow on their bed. Mrs. Alplanalp, is probably the only teacher that understands this. Mrs. Alplanalp also knows that any child, no matter what age, will wake up and participate for one thing: CANDY. It was decided that we would play Bingo. You can probably guess the winning prize. You could hear a nickel drop in that room. The game was intense but would shortly be put to an end. I looked down at my bingo sheet and saw heaven. Just kidding, but it was pretty close to heaven. A continuous row of bingo chips sat smiling up at me. You don’t understand how big of a deal this was for me. I thought I was the definition of an unlucky person. 

I am definitely going to try this optimistic blogging thing again some time! I hope my readers will realize that I am not as negative of a person as my posts make me out to be. Although voicing my troubles in life on this blog makes be feel good, expressing the moments of happiness feels even better. 

Greene For Greens

Four girls, three nights, two beds, one recipe for disaster.

Last week the Park City Ski Team U16's went to Copper, Colorado for an early season ski camp. Becoming a U16 after being a U14 is a big step. Our coaches like to describe it in three words: "Fend For Yourself". Easier said than done.

On top of the world!

About thirty minutes from our final destination, we stopped at a grocery store to get food for the week at ski camp. “You will have to ‘Fend for yourself’ this ski camp, we are not your parents.” Those were the last words of the coaches as we jumped out of the van into the parking lot of Walmart. 

Because there are so many kids on my ski team, we have to take two different vehicles to get to each place. Unfortunately the two vans got split up so two of my roommates were at one store and the other roommate and I were at a different store. I’m just going to say that this was a bad choice by our coaches, and if it hadn’t been made, my trip could have been a lot smoother. 

Shaye (one of my roommates) and I called our other two roommates to discuss who would get what at each store. The final decision was that Shaye and I were in charge of snacks and two meals and Charlotte and Rachel (the other two roommates) were in charge of fruits, vegetables, and one meal. 

Once we arrived at the condo, I began to put everything away. My immediate thought was something was missing. We had the snacks that Shaye and I bought, an extra box of fruit rollups and ingredients for grilled cheese, pad thai, spaghetti, and quesadillas. What was missing? Oh yeah… The fruits and vegetables. 

They forgot the one essential thing to have on a ski camp. HOWEVER, they got an extra box of fruit rollups. You can probably guess Charlotte’s next words… “We can just substitute with fruit rollups!” 

OMG genius!!! 

Not.

A fridge at ski camp.
(Photo Courtesy: imgur)

We would have to live through it though because there was no way we were going to ask our “not mom” coaches to drive us all the way back to the store. 

A fridge at home.
(Photo Courtesy: ForRent)

My second problem on the trip was that I forgot my chapstick. On the second to last day I decided I couldn’t take it anymore. I searched the little town for a place to buy it and ended up running into a supermarket.

What was laying on the conveyor belt when I checked out? Chapstick, and a bag of frozen broccoli. 

The last night was my turn to cook the meal for our room. Grilled cheese sandwiches.

As I crossed the threshold of my condo door I announced to my roomates: “I behold the ultimate gift.” Then I held up the bag full of healthiness. This will probably be the only time you ever hear of kids cheering about broccoli. 

“Fending for ourselves” was a good lesson but it was definitely nice to return home to Park City and a refrigerator full of fruits and vegetables. 

The Answer

I get asked almost every single day why I choose to run cross country. Well, now I have an answer. 

The Park City Cross Country Team lost five seniors last year who made up five of the seven spots on the 2013 State team. This year our state team consisted of one senior, two juniors, three sophomores, and a freshmen. PCHS has never gone to State as the underdog but this year was very different. Everyone was doubting our success. 

I don’t think I have ever been so nervous for something in my entire life, mostly because of the pain I knew I would soon be experiencing. Yes, running three miles as fast as you can feels horrible. No, I don’t know why I do it.  I am hoping to learn to love that feeling at some point in the next four years. 

Besides the suffer factor, our entire team had a lot of unspoken weight riding on our shoulders.

Pine View. White Jerseys. Beat em’. They are the team. The team that was the only roadblock to our glory. 

Diggin' Deep

My coach informed me about two weeks before state that I needed to  beat Pine View’s last two runners. In order to do this, I would either have to run my PR(personal record) or be only seconds off of it. Not an easy task considering my PR was set on a very easy course. 

The dreaded gun went off and the misery began. My only focus: Pine View. 

Their girls were in front of me through the entire course.  I could see the bright white jerseys at least ten seconds ahead of me the entire way. Everyone from Park City, but mostly the agro moms, shouted “White jerseys, Liza, white jerseys!” I hope they are reading this because then maybe they would realize their “words of encouragement” are not encouraging at all. They are pretty much the complete opposite. Like seriously, why don’t you come and run a 5K as fast as you can, up hills, in the scorching heat, with five thousand people shouting in your face “PINE VIEW, LIZA!” It’s not pleasant. I knew my focus from the minute I stepped over that line, I didn’t need some crazy moms reminding me that I was, at that point, not in line to reach my goal. 

The last four hundred meters of the course were on the track at Highland High School. Three Pine View girls were about five seconds ahead of me.

At this point in the race, a runner has nothing left. Their legs feel heavy, their arms dead. Their mouth feels like they just ate a spoonful of powdered sugar, only it tastes like sweat and makes you want to puke. 

This is usually the moment we are supposed to speed up but due to our condition that rarely happens. 

State Champions! WOOHOO

But it did happen and PCHS won their seventh consecutive state title this year by a mere four seconds; the closest race to date. The difference: we sped up when everyone else slowed down. We dug deep when it really counted and were able to pull past those infamous white jerseys. I was definitely not one of the fastest runners on the state team but I still contributed and that will be my new answer when somebody asks me why I choose to run.

The Not so Obvious Perks of Being Left Behind

If I lived in any other place, being the only one left in town over a school break would pretty much be awful. However, I live in Park City, UT and being the only one still in town over break is awesome. As my older sister is most likely sleeping and dreaming up a fantasy on the tropical island of Hawaii, I have fortunately been granted the wish of being left home. Alone. 

The endless line of cars on a school
morning.

Benefit #1: Escape From Traffic

The endless line of empty pavement
on a school break morning.

Over the recent years, as most of my followers know, Park City has been becoming overpopulated. Locals now have to give themselves and extra ten minutes just to get from Kimball Junction to Park Meadows due to traffic. I run into this in parking lots at the grocery store, on small neighborhood roads, and even at 6:45 am as I drive to school. The one and only time to escape traffic is over school breaks. I noticed the change this morning as I was driving to cross country practice and turned the bend into town expecting to see the usual morning traffic. Instead I was grateful to see the absence of bumper to bumper traffic. I can’t help but feel sorry for my best friend most likely stuck in a line of countless vehicles and unpleasant honks in Los Angelus, California. 

Benefit #2: Undisturbed Hikes

Because Park City is filled with active people, the numerous trails seem to overcrowded especially at this time of the year. Word spreads rapidly through this town about the opening of a new trail and the locals quickly head to see for themselves what the new trail will offer. I sometimes find it fun to run into different friends each time I go on a hike. Having said that, it is also very peaceful to go on a hike and not run into a single person the entire way. If you are one of the people who need these calming hikes then don’t plan any vacations over your next school break! Once all the UEAers leave, the trails are practically yours. I took advantage of this and went for a trail run yesterday. I didn’t see a single soul the entire way. Actually, I guess that was a lie because I did run into a moose!

Lost Prospector Trail. 

Benefit #3: I’m an Only Child

As I mentioned before, my older sister Nicole got invited to spend UEA break on the beautiful island of Oahu. I am obviously jealous so I don’t need to waste time trying to convince myself that her trip will be horrible. Instead, I have decided to spend my thoughts on creating reasons why being an only child is way more superior than any trip to any scorching hot and humid island in the middle of the Pacific ocean. Because I am only a freshmen, I clearly cannot drive, legally. But the absence of the other child has opened up a lot of free time for my parents. I pretty much look at them as chauffeurs at my beck and call. To add to that, my mom bakes when she is bored. Lets just say the cookie jar is completely full and is ready to be refilled at any point of time. I am totally jealous of actual only children because their lives must be like a dream.

I am not looking forward to Sunday and not just because it is the last day of break. Sunday is also the day that lines of vehicles form, trails are again occupied, and the life of an only child ends. If you are wondering I have already made arrangements for Nicole’s absence over Spring Break. Life is good as an only child in a lonely town.

One and Done

Supposedly Park City, UT has some of the greatest mountain biking on Earth. Or at least that's what my dad says who mountain bikes almost every day of the week. I, on the other hand, do not. I wish my first mountain bike ride had been in Park City so maybe I would’ve learned to enjoy it. Instead, I was forced to learn to mountain bike in a place called Fruita, CO. 

The middle of no where is actually kind of pretty!

Every year the Park City Ski Team goes on a camping trip. I was so pumped to hear what we would be doing this year; hiking in Canyon Lands, rafting on the Colorado river, discovering slot canyons in Escalante. So many incredible options, my head was reeling with the possibilities. The decision made by our coaches was to take us mountain biking in some random place called Fruita, Colorado. Once I heard the news I didn't have the slightest desire to go on this "team bonding" trip. I had never even been on a real mountain bike ride how could I possibly make it through three straight days. It sounded like pure torture. Of course my dad, "the professional mountain biker” wouldn't take no for an answer and insisted that I go. About a week later I found myself in a van full of fifteen kids on our way to Fruita, Colorado, a.k.a. the middle of nowhere. 

Don't look down!

I wish I had never woken up on Friday morning, if I hadn't maybe the idea of staying in my tent all day would have become an option. But of course that didn't happen, and of course I found myself mounting a bike I had never even used before, not to mention wearing clip pedals for the first time.  The thought of having my feet attached by a piece of metal to my pedal didn’t help matters. Can you say intimidating? They were bound to cause problems as my day went on. 

We pulled out of camp onto the dirt road which I struggled to find my balance on at first but after about twenty feet I was feeling pretty pro and wondering why I had felt so much anxiety for this moment in the first place. I thought to myself, “this ain’t so bad! I got this.” Almost immediately after this thought crossed my mind we pulled up to a trail head. What I had originally thought was the trail we would be riding was actually just the road to get to the dreaded trail. My confidence level practically shook the ground as it dropped.

I fell eleven different times that day and twenty-one times that trip, but who's counting? Obviously I was.

Before the trip to Fruita, my mom kept on saying one thing to try to convince me to go: "Liza, you cannot live in Park City and not know how to mountain bike." I will admit that this may have worked at the time, however I will not believe it for one second anymore. I attempted this so called sport once and that should be a good enough excuse not to try it again. I could spend my time doing plenty of other activities. 

Fun games beat mountain biking any day!

That is the wonderful thing about Park City, there are an endless amount of things to do. I feel as though I take full advantage of this benefit so I am not going to let sitting on an uncomfortable seat while hurling myself down a skinny dirt path filled with sharp rocks, elusive roots and most likely a hungry mountain lion lurking behind a bush kill my vibe to enjoy the great outdoors. 

Back by Popular Demand

This blog picks up where my sister left off two years ago. She gets credit for the creative blog name. Technically our mother deserves the actual credit for the name, because she suggested it in honor of her favorite country music group, Little Big Town. 

Image Courtesy of The Boot

According to the Merriam Webster dictionary, "little" and "big" are antonyms. Based on the definition, most would think that it would be impossible for one town to fall under both of these categories. No town can be little and big at the same time and is usually classified as one or the other. Park City, UT is the exception. 

I attend Treasure Mountain Junior High which begins each day at 7:30 am. On the first day of school I left my house at 7:10. I thought this would give myself plenty of time to get to school and not be tardy. I was wrong. I turned the corner where Treasure comes into view and I was faced with a tremendously long line of traffic. I assumed “traffic” only happened in big towns like Los Angelus or New York City but maybe Park City isn’t as small as I thought it was. 

Image Courtesy of Park City Rental Properties

Having said that, the Police Blotter for Los Angeles most likely contains information about murders or burglaries. Park City’s police blotter on the other hand, includes things such as complaints made about dogs off leash or a moose seen crossing mainstreet. Reading these kinds of things in the newspaper reminds me of how small Park City actually is. 

Park City isn’t confused as to whether it is little or big, it just so happens to be both, which I consider pretty cool. Park City is the ideal place to grow up, not too little and not too big. It is my "little big town".