Dad took this picture of me at Pinnacle Peak and I feel like it really captures who I am.
If I had to subtitle this blog post, I’d probably say: “Astonishingly timely.” Because in real life a pile of poop just hit a fan, and having two nights away with no cell phone reception to process everything was just what the doctor would’ve ordered.
But hey, instead of getting into all that, let’s go all social media-style and I’ll show you a bunch of smiling, happy pictures from our two-night stay at Ohanapecosh on Mt. Rainier.
In addition to me and Benji, my sister Colleen and her husband Jordan flew up from LA for this trip, and Dad joined us. We arrived on Tuesday midday and spent Tuesday and Wednesday night, leaving on Thursday morning.
In the eight days since my bike crash, I think every injury has taken a turn hurting the most. One day it was my face; the next, my left knuckles, which have huge gouges out of them; the next, my right calf; etc.
But through it all, one area has hurt the most consistently: my jaw. When I hit the ground with my face, something happened to my jaw, and since then opening and closing it has hurt excruciatingly. Chewing anything proved nigh impossible for the first few days after the crash; even opening my mouth at all involved excruciating jaw pain.
I thought it would be fun, in the sense of “oh my gosh that’s a little horrifying,” to track the evolution of my face as I recover from my crash.
Before we get there, a quick update: I feel decent. Different areas hurt at different times, but with nothing worse than a lot of scrapes, I expect to be able to get back to normal activity fairly soon. Sleeping is difficult because I normally sleep with my face in a pillow. (Also, it’s smoky and hot; our house is about 85 degrees inside.)
Yesterday dad and I had a lovely ride around Mercer Island. After we split up, I thought I’d do a few extra miles, so I headed east down 124th towards the Sammamish River Trail. But for some reason when I got to the bottom of the hill at the intersection with Willows Road, I thought a red light was green and I proceeded at speed into the intersection. I realized my mistake too late to stop, although I locked up my brakes and did the best I could to steer away from the pickup truck that loomed enormously ahead of me like a vast wall.
My cell phone, an original Google Pixel, has been slowly dying for almost a year. It started last September when I noticed the battery seemed to drain quickly. I’m sure the battery isn’t its best after all these years, but later I came to suspect some kind of software issue too, because the charge would jump from something like 72% to 59% in just a few minutes of sitting around unused.
The thing is, I really like that phone, and I hate having to replace electronics. I reluctantly researched new phone options, but kept babying my Pixel along, delaying the inevitable. Recently, though, it started dying on my long bike rides and refusing to turn on until I plugged it in. That isn’t just inconvenient; I rely on a working phone in case of serious emergencies out on the road.
But it wasn’t for lack of trying!
Today while I was heating oil in our frying pan for my signature seared salmon recipe (if I may take a moment to boast, I make a mean seared salmon), I flicked some water into the pan to see how hot it was — and a tower of flames leaped up. It roared merrily for about 5 seconds while I frantically looked for the lid, which I’d left in a location blocked by the flames. Finally I got smart and turned off the burner, the flames died down, and I finished making dinner. No problem! Nothing to see here! Everything’s fine!