Let's Not Split the Difference - Aging and Fitness Belong Together

A good friend, Sue Orris, is a hiking fanatic along with many of our mutual friends. Here she is in May 2018 trekking up a steep trail, with her knee braced, above our camp on Oregon's John Day River. To Sue, fitness is a lifestyle that a pesky knee is not going to wreck. She's committed to staying strong long. Me too. 

Yesterday was my 76th birthday. By now I'm accustomed to elder status. Hmmm. Not sure about status because regardless of my advanced age, I do not consider myself an "elder" in the sense of being a font of wisdom, doling out life lessons to seekers of such. 

I have, however, hammered out numerous posts about aging through the years, mostly kicking and screaming all the way to decrepitude.

2020, however, during quiet and contemplative moments hiding from Covid at home, inspired a different take. I have come around to accepting aging on my own terms, which is good because if I follow my family's longevity trajectory, I will be getting a lot older. I want to feel perky enough to dance along the way.

If I make it to my late 90s, as did my mother and her mother, I may look back on age 76 as my juicy youth when I began, in earnest, to prepare for the next two decades, Ruth Bader Ginsburg style. 

Ginsburg, who died of cancer at age 87, had a personal trainer who put her through challenging physical training twice weekly. I'll stick with intermediate yoga, strength-training, and-or charging up the neighborhood hills for 30 minutes most days. Gardening counts.

We'll see how it goes. I'll post a splits photo every year, as long as I can still do them. By the way, I practice the splits and a few push-ups most nights before bed. Five minutes max. Helps me sleep, I think.

I'm not making momentous life changes, but doubling down on commitment to stick with my current plan and, at the same time, rid myself of the foregone conclusion that age-related weakness is inevitable. Robust and rowdy until the end! Or as long as possible. 

December 15, 2020, age 76.

EARLIER POSTS ABOUT AGING

Do I Want to Die at 75? 

Not last year when I turned that age. Not this year, either.

Harold and Maude Revisited

One of my favorite posts about a quirky film starring a young man who kept pretending to do himself in and an older woman who had her end all figured out. 

Ditch the Hair Dye - plus an article about Working to Disarm Women's Anti-aging Demons 
I was into the Clairol bottle half of my adult life until PK persuaded me to stop. I'm glad I did. 

Camping with Gray-haired girlfriends - fun times outdoors  and moments of truth

Pauline - Is 90 the New 70?   In her early 90s when I met her, the first thing she wanted to tell me was how much men like sex. This is one of my favorite posts ever. 

Yoga - a Defense Against Aging - Yes, it is. Check it out. A post about a yoga class I've frequented for about 20 years. Lots of older people doing the splits and more!

Attitude and Aging - Lighten Up!  It matters how you think about getting older.

Sister's Aging Advice All Too True  I've changed my mind about what I wrote in this post a couple years ago. Rather than accepting my sister's aging angst and predictions, I'm attempting to persuade her to be more positive and proactive. 

Travel Tips for Geezers  Just go and don't worry about it.

Simple (summer?) Salad in the Sink

Dear E-mail subscribers, please click the link to the blog website. The formatting in the email is all messed up. 

With excessive loss and suffering here in rural Oregon and across the globe, writing about gardening and cooking seems irrelevant. Maybe irreverent. I try not to feel guilty about having had (not dead yet!) a lucky slide through the decades. Images of hungry children begging in foreign lands, and desperate humans even in small towns such as ours, holding "Stranded, Will work for food" signs haunt me. Measuring good and guilt is tricky. 

But. When images of our pandemic garden flood my heart, I'm lifted. PK and I spend countless industrious hours out there, everything from harvesting tomatoes and peppers to picking cabbage worms off fall and winter crops, or deadheading flowers. The garden is ongoing work, which some may believe is unnecessary toil. Just shop the local farmers' markets, they say. Yes. Support those markets. But, if you have a bit of Earth to cultivate, consider the gladness of gardening. And the joy of sharing the bounty.

A homemade view filled with birds, bees, butterflies, and cheerful crowds of sunflowers. Salad in the sink coming right up!

Salad in the sink for two right here. If you want to skip all the BS, scroll down to the recipe. Which you won't be able to print. But it is so simple and savory you can remember, right?

Sounds appetizing, eh? Salad in the sink? 

It is actually a terrific way to use late-season zucchini and tomatoes and more. In truth, it is a salad served, ideally, from a colander in a sink, which may not be suitable for a fancy dinner party, but is useful for shoveling heaps of zukes and tomatoes from the seasonal avalanche onto salad plates.

During COVID at home with PK, it's a flavorful, fun, and easy-to-put-together first or only course. The man is flexible. He also does the dishes. And other useful things. 

Assemble this concoction in a colander (a rectangular one is ideal) and serve from it too. I suppose if dinner guests (what are those?!) are coming, you could move it to a pretty bowl at the last minute. 

The thing is, the zucchini spirals go into the colander first and are then generously salted before other stuff is added. Like proper dedicated athletes, the coils need to sweat for at least 20 minutes. Serving straight out of the colander saves the salad from being watery, plus it is a classy serving touch, don't you think? 

Clean the sink first. 

Even though summer officially gave way to fall on Sept. 21, our garden didn't get the news.  The prolific plot continues to produce excessive zucchinis, beauteous tomatoes, and tender green beans, which are just coming on. Bring em!

The basil is confused about when to stop and hasn't. The Walla Walla onion in this simple salad was harvested in June and has been cool in the garage frig during the blistering summer along with its bloated brothers and sisters, some of which are 10 inches diameter. They had a diet of rich compost and now contribute sweet crunchiness to the salad in the sink.

In addition to a zucchini 9-10 inches long, all you need are a few dead-ripe tomatoes, a generous handful of green beans, sweet onion, basil, salt, and Parmesan or fresh mozzarella cheese.

In recent years, I've gone big on spiralizing zucchini. Quick, easy, and delish. If you can imagine zucchini being delish. Maybe that's overstated. Palatable? Anyway, salting zuke "noodles" improve the bland vegetable's taste and texture and create a medium for savory sauces.

With ends trimmed, this zuke is about 9 inches long. The Paderno World Cuisine spiralizer can handle about 10 inches. It also has blades to shred and slice other veggies or cheeses. Many competing brands exist, of course. This simple tool may set you back about $25.

Spiralizing a zuke is quick and easy once you get the hang of it. You need a hard surface for the suction cups that keep the device in place.

For the salad in the sink, snip the noodles, so you don't have to pretend you're making pasta.  (Subbing zuke noodles for pasta recipes requires only a couple of snips.) For either use, salting produces the best results. How much? I don't measure, but I shake, shake, shake with gusto three or four times, then mix and let rest for at least 20 minutes, carefully stirring a few times. Despite using what seems like excessive salt, I've never had to rinse the noodles. They keep for days refrigerated, and I add them to other salads, soups, or stirfries.

I apologize for not having a "print" function, although a person could copy, paste, and print. I am an occasional blogger these days and got away from frequent recipe posting several years ago. Not that I had a print function even then. 

RECIPE - Simple Summer Salad in the Sink

Ingredients for two - easy to ramp up for more mouths

• one firm medium/large (9-10 inches) zucchini, spiralized
• a big handful of fresh green beans, lightly steamed 
• a cup or so of sliced sweet, crunchy onions like Walla Walla
• two or three firm garden tomatoes, such as Romas, Tasteilees, or whatever you have
• chunks or slices of fresh mozzarella or shredded Parmesan cheese, to taste
• salt for sweating operation
• fresh ground pepper to taste
• torn or whole fresh basil to taste
• salad dressing of choice 
• a sprinkling of roasted salted pumpkins seeds for topping once the salad is plated

Directions

Spiralize the zucchini and dump into the colander in your sparkling clean, appetizing sink. Use scissors to snip noodles, so you're not dealing with spaghetti -lengths. Sprinkle the zucchini with salt, mix and let sweat for at least 20 minutes. Stir a time or two. Lots of water will be released. Taste before mixing with other stuff to make sure it's not too salty. If it is, rinse quickly with cold water. (I've never had to rinse.)

Cut the green beans into halves or thirds, then steam or boil until tender/crisp. Rinse with cold water and set aside. Cut the tomatoes into wedges, slice the onion, add fresh mozzarella chunks or slices, then gently mix all together. Top with fresh basil leaves, whole or torn. 

After scooping the salad onto plates or bowls, apply your favorite salad dressing. I prefer my homemade sesame dressing, but if we've run out, I sub in vinaigrette or Annie's organic Fig Balsamic. We usually dress our individual salads. Sprinkle with shredded Parmesan, if using, and top with roasted pumpkin seeds, salted or not. 

This is as fancy as it gets during COVID isolation. The sink salad this particular night was followed by deluxe grilled salmon filets and mustard roasted potatoes with a good Malbec. Thanks, Grace!

A modest representation of the 2020 tomato and pepper harvests.

One of many basil harvests. Much pesto is in the freezer for 2020-2021. 

Zukes and green beans. Both prolific.
 My teeth are getting green. 

Interested in other salad and/or veggie recipes? I searched this blog for "salad dressing," and almost every salad recipe I've ever posted came up in this one link. 

Most of the recipes include my go-to homemade sesame dressing, AKA Laurie's Glory Sesame Dressing. 

Check em out!

Earlier 2020 gardening post

Living with Pandemic Better With Gardening 

Thanks for visiting. Good to be back!

Living in Time of Pandemic Better With Gardening

Home and garden in July 2012. We've painted the house since then and stricken down the aggressive hop plant in the middle, but we expect our pandemic garden to look something like this.  

PK and I have inhabited the same 3.5 acres in Southern Oregon's Rogue Valley since the mid-1970s. That would be around 45 years, most of them as tillers of the soil. Never did the idea of experiencing a historic pandemic occur to me—to us—nor did we consider that gardening might someday become a smart survival strategy.

We may be headed in that direction now. We're not among the "survivalists" who migrated to Southern Oregon in the 1970s about the same time we did. The survivalists believed Southern Oregon was the safest place to escape radiation fallout should a nuclear war break out. 

Us? We landed in this spot serendipitously. No plan. No destination. Blown by the wind. But damn. When we hit the land it hooked us. Well, the land and having a baby. 

Remember those days? Hippies, including us, and many others, migrated to the rural West, sparking cultural clashes but ultimately melding with the locals to cultivate new lives in the new-to-us territory.

Now that a pandemic is poisoning the planet and rural lifestyles including small towns, farms and ranches, open spaces and wilderness all around must be looking pretty dang fine to people stuck in cities. If unemployed and anxious urban dwellers could swing it, my guess is that many would choose to relocate to where social distancing comes with the territory and a well-established gardening culture is in place.

Our neighborhood a mile outside the town of Rogue River shot from a mountain trail on the other side of the actual Rogue River. Our 3.5 acres is there someplace on the right.

We can't know for sure what'll happen next. But gardening benefits include that you can pretty much predict your food future and also your health, provided you eat fresh whatever you can, and preserve the rest. (We give away a lot of produce.)

A late summer harvest but where are the tomatoes?

Not that we've slipped into survival mode, but considering that Stephen King-like nightmares have disturbed my sleep through the years, I don't discount the possibility that our current globally shared shitty situation could devolve into pandemic pandemonium.

Yes. Rainbows over our garden. 

Back to the land.  Although I paint a rosy picture, usually, it is sad but true that PK and I have had an on/off-love/hate relationship with gardening for decades. Seeding, weeding, shoveling, spading, tilling, planting, fertilizing, watering, harvesting, and food preservation required by the big beautiful time-sucking rectangle in our backyard has been as much of a chore as it has been a cause for celebration.

And that's not even taking into consideration that when we bought the property, it was an orchard with 300+ apple trees! Now that was work! Most of which PK took on.

Most of the original apple trees were cleared to make pasture. We still have about a dozen producing trees, including this one which was bursting with blooms in April and is now loaded with fruit. For the first time in several years,  PK is tending the trees so we have organic apples to make sauce and butter and share with friends and neighbors. 

In fact, after excessive toiling with yet another too-much-of-everything garden in 2019, we determined to throw in the spade and skip the whole cultivation thing in 2020. No garden for us this year!

Instead, we decided to elongate the run of travel we've relished during the past decade. We'd been plotting a cross-country road trip in our sweet and spiffy Sprinter van. We'd roughed out a 3-4-month ramble that included music festivals, visits with family in Minnesota and New Jersey, a jaunt up to Newfoundland, and, as a grand finale, a flight across the pond for a European fall bicycle trip.

Of course, this trip is not going to happen. For sure not the flying-to-Europe part. I risk embarrassing myself even mentioning how the pandemic has upset our privileged lives of travel when so many are losing so much. We are fortunate and grateful to have choices.

We've chosen to switch gears. There's no ambivalence. Staying home is good, even if it's forced. Gardening is great, something that feels right and full of purpose. We never lack things to do. Days fly by. It's a privilege to have fertile land that we've worked through the decades, that rewards us with beauty and bounty, birds, and bees. Benevolence.

Cosmos volunteers return every year. Bees love them. Me too.

It's raining today but my gardening gusto hasn't dampened. Work-wise, springtime is almost as intense as the harvest season, but I'm glad to be out there digging in the dirt, inhaling the sweet scent of the soil that has been worked by PK and me innumerable times since 1974.


Can it be that I am finally rooted? I guess so.

Me with everything needed for spring planting in Oregon: a new pair of gardening gloves, a piece of dense foam for the knees, a raincoat, and a belief that ...
every little thing's gonna be all right. Bob Marley

Addendum

Oddly enough, I was primed for pandemic gardening during an intense volunteer trip to Guatemala in February. There I was inspired, even moved, by the extensive organic gardening, and other tasks, accomplished by indigenous Guatemalans, many of them teenagers at a remote mountaintop school named Maya Jaguar.* A post about my time there is in the works.

A master gardener, Pascual, oversees the school's
 organic gardening programs.

*The school is one of several efforts by the nonprofit Adopt-A-Village in Guatemala to lift Mayan youth from poverty and malnutrition through life-changing education. Graduates earn three certificates, one for completing academic studies, another for computer science proficiency, and a third for demonstrating competence at all phases of organic gardening. I love what I saw there. 


PREVIOUS GARDENING POSTS

Bye-bye garden, hello fun! 
A new take on marinara plus gardening ambivalence
Mid-June garden is messy but good!

How to do Machu Picchu and more

Dear Readers, Thanks for stopping by. I am a sporadic blogger and I appreciate your sticking with me. We've recently returned from five weeks in Peru and Colombia. Too many stories! But I will start with one of the best — Machu Picchu. Got a few minutes? 

A view from inside the citadel showing a small part of Machu Picchu...

... and a view from atop Machu Picchu Mountain, which we managed to climb. 

The truth is I didn't want to go to Machu Pichu. And neither did PK. Almost everybody has seen the iconic Machu Pichu photos, right? How much better can the place be in real-time?

A whole lot better, it turns out — it is among my most inspiring travel experiences ever.

Thanks to Steve Lambros, one of our two travel partners, for insisting that If we're going to Peru, I'm going to Machu Picchu! And so did we all. 

Our travel buddies Steve Lambros, Laurie Gerloff

on the train to Aguas Calientes/Machu Picchu.

During our trip planning, we learned about Machu Picchu's infamous crowds.  A World Heritage site, Machu Picchu is the most visited tourist destination in South America, and also at the top of the list for most beautiful places on the entire continent.  Guide books warn to order tickets far in advance and plan strategically to avoid hordes during high season.

Fortunately, we traveled to Peru during the low season, which often means rain. We got lucky. No rain and only a small crowd at Machu Picchu around 8:30 a.m., Dec. 13, 2019. 

When to go? According to a tour company's brochure:

The best months are late March, APRIL, May, and September, OCTOBER, November. During these months, Machu Picchu and the hiking trails that lead to it tend to be less crowded and with relatively good weather.

Note that June, July, and August - peak season with tons of tourists - are not recommended, and neither are December, January, and February - rainy season. 

Had it been raining on our Machu Picchu day, we would have been stuck with it as our arrangements had been made well in advance.

The thing is, you don't just say, on a lark, "Oh! It's a beautiful day! Let's go to Machu Picchu!" And there you are, dropped off at the gate. You can't take a direct flight, or direct anything, to Machu Picchu except for the short bus ride from Aguas Calientes that does stop at the gate. At the very least, once in Peru, a train and a bus are involved, and for hardy souls, two or four days of hiking the Inca Trail.

Machu Picchu tourists most often must find their way from Cusco, and that journey is worth noting. Machu Picchu is part of the storied Sacred Valley, as is the ancient city of Ollantaytambo, where tourists hop on a train to get to the most famous of all Inca ruins.

The Ollantaytambo train station is a marvel of efficiency with two final destinations: Aguas Calientes, a gateway to Machu Picchu, or, going the other direction, Cusco.

We hired a van to tote us 45 miles from Cusco to Ollantaytambo, in itself a tourist destination. Even without Machu Picchu being an hour and a half up the train tracks, this town's own grand archeological site and the ancient city's Inca-era grid of cobblestone streets and Inca-style walls and buildings would still draw and awe crowds.

This is the door to someone's home. See the modern 422 address? The larger smooth stones were likely placed by the Incas. The smaller stones held together with mortar were likely not. 

Our Machu Picchu guide said that visiting during the rainy season is
advantageous because one can observe the clever drainage system.
Stone gutters go for blocks uncovered, then disappear and reappear all 
the way to the mighty Urubamba River. 

We scored a great hotel with a balcony overlooking the scene pictured below. Altogether, we spent nearly a week in Ollantaytambo, and it took that long to figure out how to pronounce the name. 

The Ollantaytambo Archeological Park as viewed from across the valley. This site, the town itself, and Machu Picchu are all part of Peru's incredible Sacred Valley.

Typical indigenous dress and a typical tourist look.

Next, we caught the train to Aguas Calientes, a 1.5-hour ride away, and the next morning, a shuttle bus from Aguas Calientes to Machu Picchu.

This is the rip-roaring Urubamba River, which the train to Aguas Calientes follows the entire distance. It is a breathtaking river studded with Class 5 and 6 rapids and waterfalls. If you go, try to get a seat on the "river" side of the train. The river can be seen from numerous vantage points from Machu Picchu  Mountain. 

We stayed overnight in Aguas Calientes, just a short bus ride from Machu Picchu, so we could enter around 8 a.m. and begin climbing Machu Picchu Mountain by 9 a.m.

When you buy your MP ticket, you must select an entry time and a time to climb either MP Mountain or Huayna Picchu, if you choose to climb either. Huayna Picchu is the peak that appears behind the Inca City in the classic postcard photo of Machu Picchu.

But wait. What about Aguas Calientes? Everyone who visits Machu Picchu must pass through this town, which you can't drive to. The town has capitalized on its captive audience with remarkable public art and numerous hotels and restaurants.  If you visit Machu Picchu, staying the night before in Aguas Calientes makes good sense.

The hot springs for which the town is named are walking distance from
 the train station and downtown.

Back to Machu Picchu Mountain - The Climb Begins

We registered at the trailhead soon after 8 a.m. and started up after we decided to climb first, tour the citadel later. Four hours is the average time required to get up and down the mountain.

We began at 8,000 feet elevation and ended at 10,042 ft. after 1.5 miles. Whew! Fortunately, we were acclimated from having been at high elevation for several days. But still. We were huffing and puffing all the way.

The trail is advertised as being suitable for older people and children. We didn't see any children, and we were by far the oldest people. In all, we may have seen 20 others during our four hours on the trail. Most appeared to be in their 20s or 30s.  It is so weird to always be among the oldest people. We're grateful to be ambulatory and even, dare I say, fit.

Yes, the trail is super steep and rocky.

Every now and then, a person must stop and rest.

Huayna Picchu, the other mountain trail, is shorter and steeper but requires less time. However, people with vertigo or fear of heights were cautioned, and children under 12 are not allowed.

Although the Machu Picchu Mountain trail was in great condition, it was a series of steep rock steps of varying heights. 

Climbing the mountain required eager lungs, a stout willing heart, stalwart legs, bulletproof knees, and a clear brain focused on the task at hand, not straying toward sanity issues. 

So beautiful. So steep. Don't fall.

PK and I were grateful for the steep hills we'd forced ourselves to hike near our Oregon home in preparation. Little did we know at Machu Picchu that the MP Mountain was easy compared with another hike coming at us in a few weeks. Worst hike ever. Later. 

Not exactly the view Steve was hoping for when he reached the top of Machu Picchu Mountain, but the mists disappeared quickly.

A few moments later....clouds are on their way out. So amazing.

I love this photo of Laurie taking her last few steps to the summit

It almost hurts to take in all this beauty. A view from the mountain trail

                    
                                     What goes up must come down.

Laurie always uses a hiking pole. Me too. 

Descending was almost as challenging as climbing. I would have been helpless without a hiking pole. Yet hiking poles were not allowed except for "older people." (See below all the objects and behaviors that are forbidden.) I passed a young woman on the descent who was clinging to her partner, covetous of my stick. The reason for the rule? Hiking sticks with metal tips may damage features of the ruins. Rubber-tipped sticks are permitted for older people. We'll take it.

Every view change is gasp-worthy.  It isn't just the citadel, but the river and the mountains. If you can go, do.

Machu Picchu Rules

I love most of the Machu Pichu regulations. My absolute fave is that selfie sticks are not allowed. I loathe selfie sticks and their tendency to create self-absorbed people. I can't count the times during the past few years of travel that selfie-stick-users have ruined otherwise fabulous scenery. They're so oblivious. Who could possibly be interested in their photos when their faces are front and center in every single one?

More Machu Picchu rules, and the entire list:

• No general tumult. (The actual word used.) 
• No running or jumping
• No climbing or leaning on features.
• No weapons
• No tripods. This is a tough one, but tripods take a lot of space and time when both are limited.
• No high heels. Duh.
• No obscene acts inappropriate in a public place and that threaten morals and good manners such as undressing, disguising, lying down, or running. They're really against running.

Our guide, Fran, was excited telling us the Machu Picchu story.

Seeing Machu Picchu with a Guide - It's a Rule

If you want to explore this stunning and surprising place, you must hire a guide. We did not need a guide to climb the mountain, however.

Numerous accredited guides hang out near the entry. We happily paid $20 a person for a couple hours of guide services, then provided a generous tip because having a guide increases comprehension and enjoyment immeasurably. Plus it undoubtedly saves the site from people who'd love to chip off chunks of Inca genius.  Evidence of genius is everywhere at Machu Picchu.

The Incas were dialed into the stars, earth, rivers and all of nature. Their astronomical knowledge, agricultural skills, and engineering expertise continue to wow visitors and scientists. 

This wall seems ordinary, right? It is ordinary in Machu Pichu and other Inca ruins, but not elsewhere. Each rock is polished and shaped to fit perfectly with surrounding rocks. A credit card isn't thin enough to slip between the junctures. Even more amazing, the citadel withstood a 6.5 earthquake in the mid-1400s as described in this National Geographic article. Also, a great deal of engineering is in the foundation which extends deep below ground.

By contrast, our guide said, this wall was erected as part of restoration sometime after Machu Pichu was "discovered"  in 1911 by a Yale archeologist, Hiram Bigham. You could put all your credit cards in the cracks and never see them again.

What the heck is this? Note that the small rock "column" remains after the stone it was carved from has mostly disappeared. But why? Our guide couldn't wait to tell us.

The detail carved into rocks on either side of a door anchored the gate. This is just one little tiny thing in a vast outdoor museum of wonders.

I could go on about the Incas, but instead, I will leave you with images of beautiful things that renew each season.

FLOWERS ALONG THE
MACHU PICCHU MOUNTAIN TRAIL