U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!

I am an Olympics junkie. For two weeks every two years (I don't discriminate between the Winter and Summer Games), I care deeply about triple axels, 4 x 400 relay teams, doping scandals, medal counts, and tug-on-your-heartstrings human interest stories. I watch NBC exclusively (don't even get me started on the lack of coverage from the Canadian Broadcasting Company--CBC), regardless of what event is on. Jamaican bobsledding? Sounds great. Lithuanian basketball? Sign me up. Bob Costas' commentary on underwater basketweaving? I'm there. So, when we put 2 and 2 together and realized that we were a mere four hours away from the 2010 Olympic Games in Vancouver, we knew we had to take advantage of such a felicitous opportunity. (Actually, I think Jon realized that his marriage pretty much depended on our attendance.) Due to--or in spite of--our procrastination, we procured tickets to the first night of short track speed skating competition, even though we pretty much know nothing about the event, other than the fact that competitors skate ridiculously fast, wear helmets in preparation for an impending crash, and sometimes compete on Dancing with the Stars. Our tickets were for Saturday, the day after the Opening Ceremonies. Due to a well-timed day off of work, we headed up to Jon's dad's house--putting us two hours closer to the action--Thursday night. Friday was a day of preparation for the big event; by preparing, I mean sleeping in, eating too much, and staying up late to watch the aforementioned Opening Ceremonies. We were joined by a good friend and houseguest, so bright and early Saturday morning, the three of us headed to Canada: America's Hat. Personally, I was expecting a long wait at the border crossing, but the customs officials on both sides were well-prepared for the additional traffic, so we breezed right through. Once in Vancouver, the Olympic fever only increased. We met up with some friends for lunch in the Granville Market (Vancouver's Pike Place) and headed to a brewery to catch some televised action. All too soon, it was time to start making our way to the short track venue, so Jon and I jumped onto some public transportation and began the gamut of ticket scalpers and security checkpoints. We settled into our seats, which were good, although not as close as our outrageous ticket prices would imply. Equipped with the requisite cowbell, we were ready for some skating action. We knew it would be incredible to watch world-class athletes, but it exceeded all expectations. We immediately got swept up into the action. Cheering until our voices were hoarse and banging the cowbell in a way that would make Will Ferrell proud, we sat on the edge of our seats as we watched the Men's 1500 meter event and the preliminary rounds of the Women's 500 meter and 3000 meter relay events. When the Canadian couple in front of us sprung from their seats during one of the heats of the Women's 500 meter race, we figured out that their daughter was competing. (In fact, we later learned that she won the silver medal later in the week.) Yes, we were that close to the action.

The most exciting part of the night was the finals of the Men's 1500 meter. We were present for Apolo Anton Ohno's then-record-tying 6th medal, which came as a result of the unexpected crash of two Korean skaters. In addition to Apolo's silver, American J.R. Celski won the bronze. (As a side note, both Ohno and Celski hail from Federal Way, a town only about 30 miles from where we currently live.) I caught the event on a poorly recorded video...except for the exciting conclusion when the guy in front of me jumped up, right into my shot.

Celski, Korea's Lee Jung-su, and Ohno

Our over-priced tickets also earned us entry into a hospitality lounge, so after gorging on some fancy food, we met up again with our friend. We checked out Vancouver's Olympic nightlife and headed back to the good ol' USA. We opted not to stay in Vancouver because it would have been too expensive, but after driving for two hours late at night with two dozing co-pilots, I think Jon would have forked over the money. We had such a blast, we went back the next day (after sleeping in, of course). The friends we met the previous day went to a USA women's hockey game in the morning, so we met them after a nailbiting 12-1 victory over China. Vancouver was bustling with people bursting with Olympic spirit. However, to my surprise, the majority of them were Canadian. I know we were in Canada, but I was expecting more of an international feel. In fact, when we crashed the German Fan Fest/Beer Tent, it was nearly all Canadians. We learned this when the crowd erupted into a spirited rendition of "Oh Canada" upon the gold medal victory of one of their mogul skiers. Regardless, we had a fantastic time with our bratwurst and beer. Next on the agenda was to find the illustrious Olympic torch. We were slightly disappointed to discover that it was surrounded by a temporary, construction-grade chainlink fence, but joined the throngs of other people to stick our camera through said fence to snap a couple of pictures. We hit up a few more hot spots and then it was time once again to return to America (after the obligatory trip to the souvenir store, of course).

I still can't believe we actually went to the Olympics. Our marriage is safe. Now, how many days until London 2012?!?

Mush!

If you are ever asked to go dog sledding do you

A) laugh hysterically at the absurdity and unlikelihood of such a plan?

B) refuse based on the fact that approximately 0 inches of snow fell all winter?

C) accept immediately even if you don't know exactly what you're getting yourself into?

If you're anything like us, the obvious choice is C. When Jon's dad asked us to join him and his wife on a dog sled excursion back in February, we jumped at the chance. The whole plan came together when it was discovered that the sister of Jon's dad's wife owns somewhere in the neighborhood of 28 sled dogs. Nothing out of the ordinary there. In addition to racing the aforementioned sled dogs, the family also takes visitors on tours. They had an open weekend and graciously volunteered to let us take part in a sled ride.

We, along with Jon's dad, sister, and respective spouses, rented a condo in Washington's Bavarian mecca, Leavenworth. Even though we were further up in the mountains, the snow was less than ideal. However, we were determined to ride on a sled pulled by dogs, so that Saturday morning, we headed out to a dog sled/snowmobile trail. I really didn't know what to expect from the whole experience, but I will say that my frozen fingers and toes (I have bad circulation, okay?) were totally worth it because we had a blast.

The dogs absolutely thrive on their job of pulling a sled and could barely contain their excitement and energy. As soon as we were all settled in, they took off at a pretty good clip, despite the slushy snow. There were two sleds: a double and a one-seater. Jon and I got to ride together and were expertly guided by his dad's step-niece. Once we got past the area where all the cars and snowmobiles were parked, we were treated to a picturesque winter scene unfolding before us: snowflakes dancing in the air (more likely from the feet of the dogs than from the sky), framed by majestic evergreen trees on either side, snowcapped mountains ahead, and a clear blue-gray sky above. The only sound was the crunch of snow underfoot and under-sled.

Until the dogs made a wrong turn.

But again, our expert guide quickly straightened them out and we continued our ride. All too soon it was over...and the dogs were exhausted.

We took advantage of our location and finished out the weekend the following day with a nice morning of cross country skiing, the only kind of skiing I can--and will--do. Mostly it was for the exercise, but I think just a little part of us was trying to gear up for our next adventure: the Winter Olympics.

Sunrise, Sunset

In order to respect the privacy of our family and friends, we typically try to focus this blog on the two of us, revealing little personal information. However, sometimes it becomes necessary to violate that self-imposed rule. It is with a combination of joy, sadness, and gratitude that I write this post. We've been quite busy with our own lives lately, wrapped up in fun and exciting opportunities that will be written about at a later date. Nevertheless, we've been continually reminded of the importance of family. The past three months have consisted of a roller coaster of emotions and bittersweet moments. I'm often struck by the paradox inherent in that term "bittersweet." Two seemingly opposite emotions that are often indelibly entwined in one another. To move past the abstract and into the concrete information of this post, Jon and I are proud to announce the arrival of our beautiful niece Sadie Marie on December 12th. However, December 12th also marked the day my dear grandmother Florence was admitted to the hospital. After several trips between the hospital and a rehabilitation facility, we are saddened to state that my grandma passed away this morning.

And there is that paradox again. I'm sorry that Sadie won't get to know her great-grandma, but I am so thankful that they were able to meet. While aching with loss, I can't help but feel grateful for having such a loving, generous, and devoted grandma. How can I not be happy knowing she is truly home?

So I end this post with a request. Please pause from your busy day and say a quick prayer. Please send up a prayer of thanksgiving for an amazing woman and a prayer of comfort and strength for a grieving family.

Contentment.

Jon Turns 30

In true "Spoon and Captain Jack" fashion, this post is belated. Extremely belated. Apparently someone (who will remain nameless) didn't feel like writing about his 30th birthday. So, two months later, I've taken it upon myself to briefly recount the events that surrounded the celebration of Jon's official trip over the hill.

I'm afraid I've set a terrible precedent for myself. After swearing that I would not try to surprise Jon on his birthday two years in a row, I did just that. But it was his 30th birthday after all--I couldn't just let it slip past unrecognized. However, there is no way that I can pull this off three times, so I am hereby publicly declaring that there will be no birthday surprise next year.

Jon knew that his "official" birthday present would be tickets to the University of Washington football game. Despite a tough loss to the Oregon Ducks (and their obnoxious fans), a good time was had by all. The real surprise, however, took place a week prior.

I had informed as many of Jon's friends and family members as I could that a fun way to celebrate Jon's 30 years would be to shower him with 30 of something. And shower him many of you did. 30 bags of mini Cheez-Its, 30 temporary tattoos, 30 songs from iTunes, 30 text messages, 20 AA batteries (figure that one out)...you guys are creative. Thanks for all your help!

The surprise didn't end there, though. Jon's dad graciously offered to share his birthday (which is a week prior to Jon's), which turned into a great alibi. We told Jon that there was going to be a surprise party for his dad at a brewery in Seattle. We knew we were successful when it wasn't until Jon walked in and saw friends that had never even met his dad that he started to figure it out. Thanks again--you know who you are.

I did promise to be brief, so one more thing before I end this post. On October 24, 2009, I witnessed something I never expected to see. With that build-up, I encourage you to check out YouTube's newest star (Jon En Fuego):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XSxXKGfaa_g

"Hey, you guys!": Our Trip to the Oregon Coast

Please pardon the random Goonies quote in the title...it loses a little something in print. But it's a great introduction to the beginning of our Oregon Coast adventure. Fate smiled upon us when Jon and I both had 3-day weekends at the same time in October, so of course we had to take advantage of it. While pondering where to go, we realized that while Jon reminisces fondly about all the family vacations he used to go on to the Oregon Coast, I had never been there. That's as good a reason as any, so rather than getting up and going to work that Friday, we got up and drove to Oregon.

Our first stop was Astoria, Oregon. Jon had mentioned a couple hundred times that the iconic '80s film The Goonies had been filmed in this town (home of the Astoria High School "Fighting Fishermen"). I promptly began obnoxiously quoting the one line that I actually remember, "Goonies never say die." What I had forgotten was that the cinematographic masterpiece Kindergarten Cop was also filmed in Astoria. All together now, "It's not a tumor (pronounced too-mah)." Even though we felt silly doing so, I'm so glad Jon asked one of the tourism office employees where the "Goonies House" was because she promptly pulled out a list of movies filmed in Astoria and even circled the highlights on a map. I'll bet you didn't know Short Circuit (remember Johnny Five?) was filmed in Astoria.

After our stop in Hollywood's neighbor to the north, we quickly visited Fort Clatsop--the site where Lewis and Clark wintered when they finally reached Oregon--before continuing on to the coast. We checked Seaside and Cannon Beach off the list en route to Tillamook, a destination all its own. For those of you not from the northwest, Tillamook is home to a dairy/cheese factory/grocery store/ice cream shop/mecca of yumminess. We restrained ourselves from heading directly to the cheese samples and check out the factory line. Then we went for the ice cream.

Jon had a couple more stops in mind, including Depoe Bay (the "world's smallest natural harbor") before reaching Newport, which is where we stayed overnight. These tiny seaside communities certainly know their audience, as nearly every hotel is located along the water. Our room was no different. For a girl from the Midwest, waking up to the sound of the ocean was a bit surreal.

The next morning took us on an adventure to Heceta Head where we climbed to the top of the lighthouse. We were blessed with gorgeous weather, so the views were pretty breathtaking. While waiting for our turn to climb, we kept hearing this barking noise. After a few moments of investigation, we realized that we were hearing sea lions. Big, stinky, annoying sea lions. This was quite fortuitous because our next destination was the Sea Lion Caves. Unfortunately we had already seen all the sea lions on the beach, but it was still cool to go down into the cave.

We had just enough daylight left to go for a run along the beach near our hotel. Sure, it was sort of windy, and yes, it was getting chilly, but we were rewarded with an incredible sunset and darn good workout. It's tough running through sand. It wouldn't be a "Spoon and Captain Jack Adventure" without a brewery, so we refueled with some tasty beer at Rogue Brewery.

Even though Jon had Monday off, I still had a workday at school, so Sunday marked the end of our vacation. However, we made several stops along the way. We went to another lighthouse, this one at Yaquina Head. As we walked up to the lighthouse from our parking spot, we noticed a lot of people standing on the trail with cameras and binoculars. Curious, we stopped to find out what all the ruckus was about. And a ruckus it was, indeed. A group of gray whales were swimming around, just spouting through their blowholes like they were putting on a show for us. It's no surprise that I have never seen a whale before (minus a trip to SeaWorld), but the fact that Jon had never seen one either made it extra cool.

Exhilarated after our whale spotting, we charged ahead to Lincoln City where there was a kite festival on the beach. Dozens of brightly colored kites were anchored on the beach as the festivities were going on. There were choreographed routines with kites moving in unison to music; it was amazing to see all the twists and turns be under such great control. All I remember from my kite flying youth is getting the plastic Wal-Mart kite stuck in a tree after five minutes. The highlight for us, though, was the kite fighting competition. We were slightly disappointed that the Kite Runner kids didn't make a cameo, but it was still pretty cool and surprisingly intense. Twelve kites were in the air with the ultimate goal of being the only kite still flying. A variety of methods were used to knock other kites down, including wrapping the string around another kite's string to pull it to the ground.

However, the last kite had to come down sometime, drawing our trip to a satisfying conclusion.

Husker Nation

One of the hardest things about leaving the Midwest (in addition to leaving my family, friends, and home of 25 years, of course) was that I would also be without my favorite teams. We don't have enough time to watch TV to justify anything more than basic cable, but even if we did, we still wouldn't be able to watch the Royals, Chiefs, or Cornhuskers, anyway. (Disclaimer: Yes, I know that there's not a huge demand for Royals or Chiefs games, but I am a loyal fan and would watch them if I could.) No offense to the Mariners, Seahawks, or Huskies, but it's just not the same.

However, we stumbled upon the perfect outlet for my fervent fanaticism this fall. When I first moved out West, Jon discovered a website for the Washington chapter of the University of Nebraska alumni association. Through that site, we learned that a local AM radio station broadcasts Husker games. There's nothing like listening to a Husker game in Washington...and hearing the feed and seed commercials that follow every break in the action.

This season, though, we figured out that we live ridiculously close to an Irish pub that hosts Husker watch parties each week. Thinking that there would only be a handful of fans in attendance, we were shocked to see nearly 50 people decked out in their red staring intently at the TV screens. Correction: Jon thought there would only be a few people. I had no doubts. Husker Nation is alive and well.

We've been able to attend several watch parties this season and the atmosphere is always comforting to me. The fight song is played after every score and "Go Big Red!" chants are raucous. All that's missing is the iconic "More Points!" To my delight, Jon usually fills in that part--I knew I married the right guy.

Speaking of Jon, he's been a great sport, tagging along with me and cheering on the Huskers. All that will change next September, however, when Nebraska travels to Washington for the "Battle in Seattle." I can't wait.

Spoon and Captain Jack's Back-to-School Special

After an amazing trip to Europe in spring 2008, we made the lofty goal of leaving the country at least once a year. However, once July rolled around and we had zero arrangements made and no solid confirmation of when Jon would be able to take vacation time, we revised the aforementioned goal of leaving the country to simply visiting somewhere we'd never been. Hence, the "Back-to-School-Special" was born. After much debate and discussion over what to call our ten-day tour (because it doesn't count unless it has a name), Jon ingeniously came up with the title "Back-to-School-Special." The meaning is twofold: 1) the trip was our last blast before the new school year starts for me, and 2) several of our friends are graduate students living near college campuses. Now that we've effectively checked the box on the marathon, our next feat is to visit all 50 states. For better or worse, when it comes to travel, at times we focus on quantity over quality. Fortunately for us, we were able to experience both on this trip. Due to the nature of Jon's job, we have friends scattered across the country. And bonus for us, many of them are currently located in such exotic locations as Ohio and Indiana, both states I had never visited until this trip. The concept of going to all 50 states prompted a Seinfeld-ian discussion of what actually construes a visit. Merely having a lay-over at an airport obviously doesn't count, but there were mixed feelings about whether or not driving through a state was sufficient. What we finally decided was that a significant event had to occur in order to consider a state properly visited. That said, we tackled 11 states in 10 days, which brings my total to 33 and Jon's to 32. The following photo montage highlights just a sampling of our significant events from each state:

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Hauling our luggage through Illinois

See if you can find our reflection--it's like a game of "Where's Waldo?"

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Playing cards in Indiana

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Worst Spades hand EVER.

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Tasting wine in Michigan

This photo was taken at a winery. Trust me.

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Watching Army Wives in Kentucky

We were evidently more interested in the pets than the show.

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Eating barbecued steak in Ohio

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We were too busy eating to actually document the event, so this picture is from the next day. But it's Ohio, seriously.

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Driving around campus in West Virginia

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Unfortunately we did not see Matthew McConaughey of "We Are Marshall" fame.

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Floating down a river in Virginia

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Appalachia=beautiful.

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Enjoying a brewery in Vermont

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This is the view from the brewery's patio.

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Munching on ridiculously expensive gas station Cheez-Its in New Hampshire

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Again, you have to take my word for it. The Cheez-Its didn't last long enough for a picture.

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Chasing after a train in Maine

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It's not really travel unless you have to run after transportation.

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Getting drenched in Massachusetts

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Apparently being soaked by rain evokes the same emotion as narrowly making a train (see previous expression).

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