The Great Solar Eclipse of 2017 crossed the continent, from Oregon to South Carolina, and gave millions of people the chance to witness one of the most awe-inspiring events in the natural world.

But you had to be within the "path of totality", a narrow band across the earth's surface several thousand miles long but only about 70 miles wide. Outside that band you would only see a partial eclipse, not a total eclipse.

And there is no such thing as a "partial total eclipse", despite the impression blogs and the news media might give. I honestly think that's why so many people misunderstand the utter beauty of the spectacle; they may have seen a partial eclipse in the past that was total somewhere else, and even though they weren't in the path the news kept gushing about it being a total eclipse, so they assume they must have seen a total eclipse and just didn't find it all that impressive.


Posted by Dan 08/29/2017, revised 09/06/2017

I admit I was at first a little apprehensive about an obstacle race. I mean, I guess it always sounded fun in theory, kind of like when the office coworker you hardly know suggests a play date for your dogs.

"Yeah! That sounds fun, we should do that sometime ... " But the truth is, I don't like being constantly interrupted when I run. I get irritated when I have to maneuver around casual walkers monopolizing the whole width of the trail, or slow my pace to duck under a low hanging tree branch.

This one was Brad's idea. Although he doesn't much care for running, he was willing to forgive the Urbanathlon for serving up 11 miles of it, since there would be plenty of obstacles and strength challenges to keep him entertained. I, on the other hand, was less confident about my abilities to navigate through an obstructed race course.

Once upon a playground, I was master of the monkey bars, and a habitual climber of fences and trees (usually in my fanciest dresses, much to my parents' bewilderment).

But those days have long since passed, and I have now developed an irrational fear of heights, or perhaps more specifically, a fear of gravity. My adult attempts at reliving my grade school glory on the jungle gym have been thwarted by a disturbing awareness that I could easily dislocate a shoulder or throw out my back with the most basic of acrobatics.

Most of my training leading up to this event was simply focused on all-around functional strength, and a fairly traditional gym regimen, despite Brad's insistence that I learn to do 30 consecutive pull-ups, so that I could be strong like him.

In the final week before the race, we devised a practice course at a local playground -- a training circuit that included running, pull-ups, monkey bars, stair climb repeats, army crawling under the swing set, and of course hurdling over the 5 foot fence surrounding the playground (rather than walking through the gate like normal people).

This dress rehearsal was a huge confidence builder for me, and it turned out to be a lot more fun than I expected. I finally got my groove back on the monkey bars, zipping back and forth effortlessly. I definitely need more monkey bars in my life.

Race day I was pumped and ready. I knew I could manage all the obstacles, and I figured the running in between would be my chance to rest.


Posted by Kimberly 11/25/2015

After packing some camping gear on his bicycle and hitching a ride to British Columbia, Nik spent part of this summer riding his bicycle from Canada to California.

Nik still lives in Santa Cruz, where he spends time playing beach volleyball and going to school at Cabrillo College.
Posted by Dan 08/15/2007

"Why do you travel? What do you personally get out of it?"

For me, there is an endless, ever-growing list of answers to this question. One of them is, "To see what's out there. To learn what I want out of my life." If I'm fortunate enough, I may find along my travels a place that feels like "a place for me." This may not mean that it is a place in which I imagine living for the rest of my life. It may not even be a place that I will ever see again. But it is a place where, upon arriving, or after spending a bit of time there, I feel comfortable. I feel happy with life, I feel I am where I should be at that moment in time, and I feel that my trust in the universe has once again fortified itself.

I have only been in Huaraz, Peru for about 4 hours, but I feel that I have arrived at such a place as I have just described. Huaraz is a moderate-sized town of a little less than 50,000 and a healthy lot of outdoor enthusiast extranjeros, located at 3090 meters (about 10,200 ft) of elevation in the Peruvian Andes. The streets feel safe and friendly, and people smile openly when I wish them buenos dias. While there is a fair amount of adventure-seeking tourism, the town does not feel jaded and over-run by it. Maybe this is simply in contrast to the overwhelmingly touristed city of Cuzco, jump-off point for Machu Picchu visitors, where I just came from. However, I truly feel that Huaraz still has a genuine, gentle charm.

In any case, in my half-day thus far, I have found a number of little things that make this place great:

• a very nice family-run hostel for a very nice price (equivalent of about $5), complete with a delightful breakfast
• an excellent cappuccino, roasted en casa
• a very comfortable, funky, well-managed cafe that is probably my favorite I have found in all of South America
• legitimately spicy aji (hot sauce) packed with flavor (not just in one location, but as a general characteristic of Huaraz)
• delicious food at delicious prices ($1-3 for lunch)
• friendly strangers to have a good chat with
• and... I hear there are a couple good artisan beers in the area!

And I haven't even made it out to the numerous mountain hikes yet!

So let's see... good prices, good food, good coffee, good accommodation, good people, and good naturaleza. Perfecto!

Brekky included with my $5 accommodation in Huaraz

Posted by Whitney 09/09/2011