AikenAction

Back in the Country

2012-02-10T19:24:00.008-05:00

It's never a good commentary on a winter when posts are going up in February about the first foray into the backcountry. But that's the state of affairs around here... but what the heck: we're only a month behind schedule. Last year -- a record-breaker -- we got out there on January 1st, and we couldn't believe it. I'm not saying today was quite like January 1, 2011, but it was nice to get out.

One person who was happy to be out there wasn't a person at all. Our yellow lab Oscar has been dying for this moment. Yes, he's been getting his exercise -- I have been running with him more than ever before. And while he does enjoy running, above all, he is a ski-dog. You want to see a dog having the time of his life? Check out Oscar in the woods in wintertime.

Speaking of dogs, snow, and winter, today was full of firsts: it was Gladys' first backcountry ski trip. Don't get me wrong; we didn't ski anything steep, nor did we go far. There wasn't much snow on the ground, and it hadn't snowed in a week. But it was a good introduction, and she shows all the signs of taking to our favorite (behind hockey, of course) winter pastime.

Meanwhile, we were joined by Alison, who also showed signs of loving being on skis out in the woods of Vermont. It was a beautiful day out there, there's snow in the forecast, and we are all geared up and warmed up for the remainder of winter. Bring it on, Old Man!

Post Super Bowl

2012-02-05T22:18:00.003-05:00

Congrats on an incredible season. I'm proud to be a Patriots fan. That's right... give them the game-winning score so that we have time to be in a position to win.

Can't wait till next season. Go Pats!

Dear Tim Thomas,

2012-01-25T13:42:00.005-05:00

As a Bruins fan, let me help clear up some confusion for you: this is ice hockey, not politics.

Next time, go to the flippin' White House with your teammates.

Now let's get back to playing hockey. Sheesh!

Championship December

2012-01-05T14:52:00.004-05:00

There's only one thing better than ushering in a new year with a championship... and that's ushering it in with TWO championships!

Championship #1: Team in Training Fantasy Football League. This year, when the Green Bay Packers went public and sold shares of their team, I didn't even consider buying. Why not? Because I already own a football team -- a fantasy team. Although I have never made the playoffs before, this year felt different. In the middle of the season, my team (known as Team PBR) went on a torrid 6-game winning streak, propelling me into the playoffs. The playoffs weren't easy, as I had to face Team Victorious Secret and Team Nino, our league's two-time defending champion. When the dust settled, however, Team PBR defied all the odds to emerge as champion.

Championship #2: Annual Bahrenburg Boot League. Three times in the last 20, our annual boot hockey game on the Bahrenburg pond in Colchester faced extreme adversity: even in Vermont the pond did not freeze. Did that hold us back? Not in the least; we simply rented the patch ice at Leddy Park and held our tournament there. Location wasn't the only adversity my team faced. Playing against the old guys (starring David and Buck Bahrenburg... I know, tough times when those are your team's stars) and the up-and-coming young guys (featuring the three-brother-combo of Pete, Drew, and Karl), our team lost our first 3 games. Still, our rag-tag team came back to earn the honor of sipping from the silver cup. Victory, I will add, tasted strikingly similar to Pabst Blue Ribbon -- not surprising, given the empty PBR cans seen scattered on the ground around the trophy.

2011 was a great year -- made even better with two hard-earned victories. And what a way to bring in 2012 -- I know this year is going to be great.

Back on the Bloggin' Wagon

2011-12-14T16:32:00.013-05:00

I know that I have been letting my legions of blog-fans down. Without a single post since November 21, I'm sure people haven't known what to do. Should they watch TV? Go out and buy new magazines? Sit inside and drink all day?

The answer is D) None of the above. AikenAction is alive and well; I'm back on the bloggin' wagon!

And alot has been going on. First off, Ali and I went down to the Dominican Republic to climb the highest peak in the Caribbean -- Pico Duarte (elev. 10164 ft). See the photo of me opposite the bust of Generalissimo Juan Pablo Duarte, one of the DR's founding fathers, at the summit. We followed the summit with a few days on the beach in Cabarete (see photo) and visiting friends in Santo Domingo (aka the "Crapital").
Immediately after our return, our truck died and our well -- for all intents and purposes -- also died. On a happier note, we got to enjoy a rare East Coast visit from Lisa Aiken, editor of The Small World Times, the prolific (although slightly inconsistently published) Montana publication. During her visit, we made the pilgrammage to the Mecca for northeastern football fans -- that's right, Gilette Stadium, home of the New England Patriots. What an experience! I can't remember who won, but I can tell you it was an awesome game (read between the lines here, people! Obviously, if the Pats had won, I'd be broadcasting the score, the stat lines, and the highlights. Thank you -- that's all I have to say about this...)

Then Alison and I hosted our first-ever holiday -- Thanksgiving at Johnnie Brook Road! Special thanks to Allton Brown of the Food Network, whose advice on how to brine a turkey, I followed to the letter -- with unbelievable success. With the exception of 30 years of Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter turkeys that my grandmother cooked at her house in Springfield, Vermont, this was the best turkey I ever had!

Finally, Alison participated in the First Annual Santa Run -- one of 1200 Santas to run 5K in downtown Burlington.

And that, I think, brings us up to date. Whew! From now on, I will blog a little more regularly so I don't have to do these monster catch-up entries blogs to bring us up to date. Talk soon!

Amelia Obuchowski 1926-2011

2011-11-21T05:56:00.009-05:00

Back when CDs and CD players first came out, we got our first player and 3 CDs: the Beatles' Rubber Soul, Greatest Hits by the Who, and Wham! There was one other CD -- a collection of old-time big band numbers called Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass.

I only recall Herb being played once -- on a late summer afternoon at our camp in North Hero. I was outside on the deck when the music came on and I heard some sort of commotion in the living room. I moved towards the screen door to see what it was: my Uncle John and Aunt Amelia Obuchowski were dancing in the living room. Uncle John had his stern, but happy face on -- sort of like the straight man in a comedy act -- while Aunt Amelia kept looking towards me and grinning like she was having the time of her life.

And rightly so -- there she was on vacation on a beautiful summer day being twirled around by her husband of more than 50 years. We were all having the times of our lives. I will always treasure the memories of the weeks they spent at the Camp -- pretty much every summer. Uncle John came for the fishing; Aunt Amelia came to relax on the deck and to make shopping trips to Burlington. Even though they were on vacation, they never missed the Saturday Catholic mass, which they attended at St Rose of Lima in Keeler Bay.

Uncle John and Aunt Amelia were the kind of relatives everyone should have. In high school I would stay with them during the first weekend of deer season and hunt with Paul. My dad loved talking politics with Amelia until his polar opposite views from hers got her overly worked up -- and then he'd hand her a chocolate bar to help her pulse get back to normal. After her sister (my grandmother) lost her husband, Amelia made it a habit to visit every Sunday for 50 years (see photo of sister Adeline, Amelia second from left, and sisters Grammy Caroline and Jenny on one of these visits). She has three great kids and amazing grandkids, the youngest of whom celebrated their first birthday two weeks ago -- with Amelia in attendance. It was a fun party, and, as usual, she was all smiles.

Aunt Amelia's last three years were difficult. When Uncle John died in 2008, I know that she missed him. Who wouldn't? She lived alone in a big house for all of that time without her partner for life. Amelia wasn't tall but it took tremendous strength for her to get up each morning and face a day without him. Wherever she is now, I know she is with him, and I am proud of the courage she showed these last years.

My Aunt Amelia modeled how to treat others, to enjoy life, and to maintain a positive attitude when the chips are down. It's an example that we will all remember.

Farewell to a Good Friend

2011-11-01T15:47:00.005-04:00

I have never been a cat person. But one of the very few cats I ever liked was Scout. Our friendship might have been spurred along in the early going by the fact that he belonged to the cute redhead I was dating. But my relationship with Scout eventually evolved from "having an understanding" to being friends.

We laid Scout McKain to rest this morning in the fields in front of our home. Scout, a white and orange barn cat and the most senior pet in our household, was an indoor cat until he moved to this house in Richmond. From then on, he passed hours in these fields chasing mice -- and entire days gazing across them from windowsills.

All of our pets visited Scouts in his final hours -- something Alison and I were unable to do; Scout passed while we were away on vacation. No doubt the one who will miss him the most is Ali. Ali and Scout were teammates and friends for the last 15 years. They lived together in at least 8 houses in a minimum of 5 towns and 3 states. She grew up with Scout -- another reason he and I became friends. He paved the way for three more pets in our household. He was a top-rate mouser even in his final days.

I have enjoyed hearing about all of Alison and Scout's adventures together, and I will always remember him as a good cat and a great friend.

Thanks for 15 great years, Scout. We will miss you.

Explosion

2011-10-14T12:15:00.004-04:00

Just when it seemed that 2011 was going to go down as a bad foliage year, things changed. In three days, the colors went from "brownish" and "dull" to "brilliant" and "radiant." It has been an explosion of color.

You never know when the foliage is going to peak. Thousands of leaf-peepers were treated to amazingly warm Columbus Day weekend temperatures, but the colors were not so great. I, for one, hiked two peaks in the Presidentials. Beautiful weather. Great hike. But the colors? They were, well, okay. Maybe it was the damp summer, everyone said. Maybe Irene had something to do with it.

Just three days later, however, the hillsides and forests of northern Vermont are just like they're supposed to be. Add to the dramatic turn of events a week of sunny weather that has made the leaves shine that much more.

Fall is all around us, and we know what that means. Pretty soon, the leaves will be on the ground, November will be on us... and winter will be just around the corner.

Business Trip

2011-10-03T09:57:00.003-04:00

"This trip is all business."

That's what Kristen Courcelle said as we embarked on a journey to Portland, Maine to run the Maine Marathon this weekend. What did she mean by "all business"? Kristen has been on an incredible athletic streak for the last year. After squeaking her way into a Boston qualifying marathon one year ago yesterday, Kristen has run every event she has entered faster than her last. Regardless of distance or discipline, she has notched PRs.

Looking ahead, however, she has the New York Marathon in November. Knowing this race is known for being crowded -- and therefore very difficult to run a PR -- she was looking for a marathon to run where she would have a chance to extend The Streak.

Meanwhile, I have been looking for a Fall marathon. Heading into winter -- the season when my running usually falls off -- I wanted to get my marathoning back on track. After qualifying for Boston two years ago, I have turned in several marathons that were lower than my expectations. Don't get me wrong... finishing is an accomplishment. Still, it's frustrating when you know you can do better. My goal for the weekend: finish better.

(Also, I didn't really want Kristen to beat me.) Okay, I admitted it.

So with these very business-like intentions in mind, we headed to Portland. And who knew business could be so fun? We stayed with Greg Dolbec, who took care of every need. He got us to a carbo-loading restaurant and provided us with elite-running entertainment in the form of his running friends, who joined us. He also housed us with a beautiful view of the bay.

Except there was no view. Race morning -- in fact, the whole race weekend -- was socked in and miserable. I have never run 26.2 miles in such consistently driving rains. I have to hand it to the race volunteers who were out there all day. I unfortunately tossed aside my favorite running shirt to avoid chafing at Mile 8. (It worked for my chest and armpits; unfortunately I have the worst chafing of my life in other areas...)

The course was a nice out-and-back, although with little fan support and none of the bands and drummers that apparently usually turn out for the event, it was a little boring. And -- not that it was a big deal -- but the clocks and water stops seemed haphazardly placed throughout the course; sometimes you'd have two water stations a half-mile apart and other times you'd go three miles with nothing. The clocks were equally random.

In the end, we both achieved our goals. I ran my best marathon in two years. And Kristen came in shortly thereafter, beating her previous marathon PR by 13 minutes. Something tells me she would have been fine in New York; but because she ran Portland, The Streak may now be in jeopardy.

Heather Jarochym was also on hand to run a highly impressive first marathon. Hopefully she -- and all first-timers who were there -- realize that not all marathons take place in conditions like that!

Thanks to Greg and Katie for hosting us. Thanks to Kristen for making the trip. Thanks to Ali who made me train all summer. And thanks to my legs -- which are now plenty sore, but which carried me back to an acceptable marathon time.

Ultra Runner

2011-09-27T17:28:00.003-04:00

Alison Aiken has upped the ante! On Sunday, September 24, Ali joined the ranks of ultra-runners by completing the Vermont 50K. An ultra, as many fans of this blog know, is any race farther than the marathon distance of 26.2 miles. This year's Vermont 50K, in addition to being mostly on trails up and down steep mountains and bottomless valleys, wasn't 50 kilometers at all... organizers admitted in the pre-race meeting that trail changes and diversions caused the race to be more like 32 miles.

Alison didn't just finish the race. She was the 6th placing female and 3rd in her age group. Rumor has it that top finishers in each age group received a prize. We wouldn't know; as Ali wanted to get home to see her beloved New England Patriots on TV, we missed the awards ceremony. Once we get confirmation on the prize situation, I may be heading out to the store to buy her my own prize.

I'm that proud of her.

Update: Newly released official race results tell us that Alison actually placed SECOND in her age group. Wow! And her 6th place finish is out of 70 women. Dang, girl, when did you get so fast? Also, to clarify, we left before the awards because it was too hot.

Horror-Fascination

2011-09-23T13:42:00.009-04:00

Dogs do not like cleaning tools.

I know, because -- more often than some might think (or believe) -- I use the broom and vacuum around here. Items that I sweep and vacuum up are (by volume) dog hair and dirt. Before we got Gladys, the swept-up dog hair was yellowish-white in color, but with her introduction to the household, it has taken on a greyish hue. The dirt has always been -- and remains -- brown.

Anyway, as soon as I start sweeping, our dogs are nervous. Oscar lays down, but he does not rest; his eyes just follow the broom. Gladys has a horror-fascination. She's afraid, but the broom just keeps drawing her in. Often it almost comes in contact (due to her habit of standing right where I need to sweep); when that happens, she panics and leaps aside.

The vacuum is even more traumatic. Oscar knows I only use the vacuum on the blanket, yet he lays on the blanket until I have to get under his spot. Then he'll move to a spot very close in proximity to the newly vacated place. Gladys, meanwhile, is scared to death of the thing, but she can't look -- or move -- away.

Here's my take. I don't like brooms or vacuums either. But if you're that scared, why not steer clear?

Mosquito Update

2011-09-22T15:23:00.003-04:00

They are not getting better; if anything, they're getting more vicious.

The word around the neighborhood -- and this comes from people who aren't necessarily in love with the cold -- is that if this is how it's going to be, they'd rather just get on with winter.

Whatever happens, we definitely need the temperatures to drop to "below acceptable" mosquito levels. This is just out of control.

Mosquitos Like Tie Fighters

2011-09-19T17:57:00.009-04:00

I don't hear Alison swear very often. But I can't repeat the words she uttered after standing outside with me for 2 minutes this evening.

Not on this blog anyway.

Hurricane Irene has caused great havoc here in northern Vermont. But one effect that nobody anticipated was hoards of blood-thirsty mosquitos breeding and rising in the damp muck left by receding floodwaters.

Today I spent the afternoon moving wood. It was a beautiful warm September day. Ordinarily, preparing my woodpile in September evokes warm and toasty thoughts and images. Usually, while I work, I'll think of warm fires, slow-cooking stews, and chili in front of a Sunday football game. Not today. Today was all about swarming mosquitos in my eyes and ears and biting me through two shirts. They were vicious, and it was intense out there.

Let me be clear: I am putting this out to all mosquitos, friend or foe. Don't come near me or suffer the consequences. Any buzzing mosquito within my reach -- whatever your intentions -- I will swat. And I swat to kill.

Consider yourselves warned, bugs.

Phish Plays Hometown Benefit

2011-09-15T12:25:00.008-04:00

Vermont's Phab Phour played a benefit concert last night at the Champlain Valley Fairground to raise money for flood victims after Tropical Storm Irene trashed everyone's homes and wrecked all our covered bridges.

The show was spectacular, but who would have expected anything less from the band's first Vermont gig since Coventry -- the one Phish show everyone would rather forget?

We have seen the various members of the band play locally (even, in some cases, at the Fairground), but this was certainly special. A feeling of homecoming filled the air -- and of people doing good. It's nice to live in a place that produced the single best band in the history of music -- and that's my unbiased opinion.

Keep up the good work, Phish!

Great Pumpkin -- Race Report

2011-09-14T07:21:00.018-04:00

Halloween and Autumn came early this year in South Berwick, Maine in the form of the PumpkinMan Half-Ironman. Despite the fall theme, and although triathlon organizers -- who ran a perfectly tight ship (all present agreed that it was one of the best organized races) -- decorated the race site with pumpkins, corn stalks, and fall colors, the entire weekend sure felt like summer.

For me, the whole PumpkinMan experience began on a run in June when prolific triathletes Marty and Kristen Courcelle (pronounced "Core-selly" by the Finish line announcer at the Pumpkin) talked me into signing up. Never have I trained in three sports like this year, so it felt good to taper all week long and then head up to Maine where our group of 5 Pumpkin-Mates (Lauren Cady and Alison Aiken -- two more elite triathletes -- rounded out the team) rented a beach house in nearby York Beach. We arrived a couple days prior to race day and found the coast of Maine to be in off-season mode. Still -- with Kristen serving as tour-guide (since she knows the area) -- these lead-up days were all about lobster, soft-serve ice cream, sitting on the beach, and catching rays.

But wait, you say. You thought this was a Race Report. Well, I guess you found me out: I just use these race events as excuses to take mini-vacations. And with summer lingering this year in coastal Maine, we were definitely in summer vacation mode... until Sunday morning. We got up at 3:45 -- yes, that's three-four-five A.M. -- and arrived at the race site before 6 to pick up timing chips, set up our transition areas (known to triathletes as "T-Zones"), and stretch out. After a concise pre-race meeting (did I mention that the organizers did everything right?), there was a moment of silence honoring those who lost their lives in the 9-11 attacks ten years ago and the national anthem. Everyone was ready... except Mother Nature.

It has been a long summer, and Ma Nature had a little trouble waking up; Knight's Pond, where our 1.2-mile swim was to be held, was blanketed by thick fog, so we couldn't see the swim buoys. There was a half-hour delay, before they finally fired off the start cannon. Alison and Kristen started in the same wave, but the rest of us started separately. After the swim was an unofficial "fourth" leg -- the PumpkinMan Hill Climb. Between the pond and the T-zone was a 200-meter hill that was timed as if it were another leg. The winner of the hill climb won a special prize (not sure what the prize was, but anyway...). On the course I got to see Howard and Jill several times (thanks for the critiques of my transitions, Dad) and Heather and her mom. It was great to have fan support at a faraway event. I've ridden 56 miles before once and 50 miles several times, but never in a race setting (to give you an idea of the "settings" in which I trained, during one of my long training rides I stopped for a Rueben; on another, I had an ice cream and cookie sandwich). I enjoyed getting in packs with coneheads riding $5000 bikes and leap-frogging with them. Also, I will add that, despite being a half-ironman neophyte, the little camp-stool I brought for my transitions was the envy of the entire T-zone.

By the time the race was over, our Pumpkin-Mates had amazing results. 5 Mates, 5 Personal Records (I can claim this since it was my first half). Kristen made the podium in her age group -- amazing. It was just a spectacular race for all. Heather brought gluten-free brownies for Alison at the finish -- a gesture that Alison can't stop talking about. The weekend was so perfect, that Alison and I stayed an extra night and watched the New England Patriots post an excellent first week victory for the 2011 NFL season. Then we arrived home to find that I won a raffle for Phish tickets at the Fairgrounds Tuesday night.

I have often heard about the results of hard work and training paying off. I didn't realize that hard training affected professional football, rock and roll, and weather. If I had known, I would have trained for a half-ironman a long time ago.

Irene Strands Old Friend in Richmond

2011-09-01T15:14:00.013-04:00

Craig Leach, who I have known since about age 4, was in the neighborhood over the weekend. He seemed very relieved that Hurricane Irene was leaving his home and family in South Carolina well enough alone while we hiked Camel's Hump (photo above left) and had a cookout with more old friends the Bensons.

It wasn't until Sunday that the reality of the situation began to set in: Irene was going to hit Craig dead-on while he was visiting Vermont. First, his flight was canceled on Sunday. Then, on Monday, he couldn't even get out of my road (photo above right). The longer he stayed in Vermont, the more stuck he became!

We made the most of the situation. In keeping with the recommendations of local, state, and federal agencies, we stocked up on alcohol prior to the storm. Craig also helped us split and stack half of our winter firewood supply (photo below) -- and, by all indications, seemed to enjoy doing it. He finally made it home to his family on Tuesday, but not before we enjoyed the much-needed opportunity to catch up!

Before I sign off on this post about hurricanes and best friends, I do want to say two things. One, I wish the best to those people who are still struggling to clean up and dig themselves out after this unbelievable storm. Everyone is contributing in their own ways, and this is very good to see. Second, I want to mention Craig's brother Shane, who passed away this spring. I am thinking of Shane's family, and we will all miss him.

For more Irene photos, check out Ask Oscar

My Wife the Runner

2011-08-27T13:37:00.005-04:00

This morning I swam, biked, and ran the Shelburne Triathlon sprint Number Four in hopes of qualifying for the US Age Group National Championships next summer. I entered under the incorrect understanding that I needed to finish in the top third of my age group in order to qualify (which I did, placing 3rd out of 9), but in reality I had to be in the top 10 percent. (Had I known this, I probably wouldn't have entered!)

Anyway, while I was off trying to qualify, my wife Alison was out for a jog back and forth over the bike and run courses. I joined her for an additional 11 miles after my race (which I barely managed). Anyway, all told, Ali ran 26.21 miles in 3 hours and 36 minutes -- eclipsing her best official marathon time by over 8 minutes and running in a Boston-qualifying time!

Question: who goes out and runs a marathon on a Saturday morning? And who does so in a Boston qualifying time?

Answer: Apparently, my wife the runner.

New Breakfast Habits

2011-08-22T15:20:00.004-04:00

I am not one to change my morning breakfast habits. Which is why, for 35 years (or whenever it is I got off the Gerber's), I have been eating Wheaties or Cheerios with milk and banana slices every morning. Sound boring? Tedious? I beg to differ; if it tastes good, why change?

[Important note: There are two exceptions to the above paragraph. 1) In moments of weakness, my mother did allow us to get sweetened cereals -- usually Alpha-bits (because it was educational) or, on extremely rare occasions, Fruity Pebbles, which we would go through in one sitting. And 2) when I was 8 years-old, I did eat Rice Krispies for 5 months because Kellogg's ran a promotion whereby kids could earn points by saving box tops and sending them in for cash. I earned 5 whole dollars though this deal... and haven't really eaten many Rice Krispies since.]

As I have learned more about food, where it comes from, and how it is made, however, I have slowly been making changes. For example, not really wanting to eat beef from feedlots where they feed grass-eating cows a diet of corn and antibiotics, I have been getting most of my beef from local farms that graze their cows in fields. I have been buying bread from local bakeries, rather than in supermarkets. One baker -- Red Hen -- even makes a bread with wheat grown in Vermont! Who knew?

Changing up breakfast, however, is not something to take lightly. A creature of habit, I have grown into my morning routine. Besides, what could be healthier and more wholesome than Wheaties, the breakfast of champions, or Cheerios, the toasted whole grain oat cereal? After months of denial, I finally studied the nutrition information of my two breakfast staples. The number two ingredient in Cheerios is corn starch. And not just corn starch... modified corn starch. Meanwhile, farther down on the Wheaties ingredient list (behind sugar) is corn syrup. Without getting into a rant about the mass quantities of corn being produced in America (so much that only subsidies from the federal government make it profitable and so much that they're putting it in my cereal and calling it Wheaties and in my automobile at the gas pump!), if I wanted corn for breakfast, I'd buy Corn Flakes!

So I have introduced new breakfast options. First, I worked with oatmeal, sweetened with honey and cinammon and spruced up with fruit. Pretty good, but I don't like having to cook in the morning. So now I'm onto granola mixed by my local bakery. There are different nuts, seeds, and raisins in there. It's not Wheaties, but it's good. But I also know where everything in my garnola came from, and it is what it is.

There are no double-agent foods hiding in my granola only to be revealed later.

The Birds of Richmond

2011-08-14T16:00:00.004-04:00

Last weekend, Ali and I went for a tour of southern New England. After a leisurely morning, we headed to Rumney, NH for an afternoon of rock climbing before catching the Alison Krauss concert at Meadowbrook Pavilion in Gilford. Comments: Rumney is a great spot. And Alison is just as good as ever. Saturday, we headed south to Bristol, RI for Karl Bahrenburg and Nicole Guercia's wedding. Comments: the wedding was spectacular and everyone I saw had an awesome time. Best wishes to K & N! Also, I will note that on our way out of town the following morning, Ali and I had breakfast at The Corner Cafe in Newport. I had some sort of Portuguese sweet bread French toast mixed with egg and peppers -- amazing. Ali had an omelette that blew her mind. It was the best breakfast I have had in awhile. Finally, Sunday, we continued to West Hartford, CT where we had lunch with family and met the newest member of the McKain family: Ben. Comment: kid toys have officially displaced the dog toy area in the McKain family room. It was great to see everyone, and a nice time was had by all.

But the trip report is not what today's post is about. Rather, I wanted to relay the experience that we had back in Richmond before we departed on the big southern New England swing. Wanting our dogs to have had at least a little physical activity before the dog-sitter arrived that evening, we took them for a walk to the river before we left. The walk contained the usual: nice views of Camel's Hump, plenty of dog running and ruckus, and a meander past the cornfields on our street. As we approached the river, however, I had a first-time Vermont experience: a single bald eagle emerged from the river and coasted over us. It only had to beat its wings once as it glided through the air. It checked us out, glanced at the dogs, and headed upstream.

The Bahrenburg family has some tight relationships with birds, so it came as no surprise to me to see such a beautiful creature as we left on Karl and Nicole's wedding weekend. But what did it mean? Was that eagle going to look after us on our travels? Was it going to keep an eye on the house and dogs? I left on Friday completely confident of both. As we drove away from home I knew we were in for a great weekend.

I was right.

Term Limits

2011-08-01T10:34:00.006-04:00

This is not a political blog.

However, I have followed the debt crisis in Washington. But I'm not going to write about that. What I am going to write about are the people who were debating it. "It" in this case refers to the fact that we can't spend more money than we have and the fact that we need to raise more to spend more. So... the big question that in my opinion was never answered: why were we debating?

I'll tell you how to solve this -- and every other problem -- in Washington. First, some history: neither George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, nor James Monroe chose to seek third terms as President. Clearly, they saw the wisdom of term limits. Franklin D. Roosevelt was the only president to break George Washington's precendent, and then Harry Truman quickly commissioned a study of presidential term limits. Congress quickly followed the commission's recommendations, amending the Constitution to limit presidents to two terms.

They did not go far enough. Senators and Representatives should also be limited. Congresspeople, beware: I am gunning for you! No more should senators be able to "outlast" a president. Let's get some good, healthy turnover down there on Capitol Hill! Serving in Congress shouldn't be a career; it should be a community service stint. These clowns spend half of their terms partying, half campaigning, and the other half sounding off like John Belushi in Animal House ("did we back down when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? No!"). Do you question my math? Notice no Congresspeople did either.

The debt ceiling debate was really just a symptom of a larger problem, which is that we put these people in Congress for life. Let's put a revolving door in the Capitol Building and start running some new blood in there. Limit Reps to two 4-year terms and Senators to two 6-years.

Any candidate who makes congressional term limits their top priority -- regardless of any of his or her other politics -- gets my vote.

Garlic!

2011-07-14T16:17:00.006-04:00

In the old days, we used to hold up big fish we would catch... now I guess I'm holding up garlic. Still... look at the size of those things -- I seem to have, as they say, caught my limit!

This garlic has been a long time coming. I planted it in November. All spring -- before anything else in my yard (not to mention the garden) was growing -- these things came up. There was a brief scare when their "garlic scapes" didn't come up. But apparently some garlic doesn't grow scapes, so I finally just pulled the stuff. It is currently hanging in the shed to dry out. Then we braid it and hang it in the cellar.

Then... it's garlic time!

I have always been a big fan of cooking with -- and eating -- garlic. A couple years ago I discovered some locally grown garlic at a farmers market; it was eons better than store-bought (which I already liked). And mine seems right along those lines, except I know exactly where, how, and with what, it was grown. (Note: I have become quite food-phobic lately... in other words, if I don't know exactly how a food is made or where it came from, I don't trust it.)

I formerly used a garlic press to crush and cut up garlic cloves, but now I don't because I like chunks of garlic in my food. Then a few years ago, I began reading about the health benefits of garlic: as long as you let it breathe for 10 minutes before cooking it, garlic has all sorts of allyl sulfide compounds that can cut one's risk of prostate cancer in half -- and they reduce the risk of stomach, colon, and breast cancers. Well, I've never been a big fan of prostate cancer, so this fits right with my personal platform.

Excellent -- so it tastes great... and it's good for you too!

Weeding

2011-07-11T17:22:00.013-04:00

My distaste for weeding is well-documented, but here is the problem: I just don't like looking at a messy garden. Do you see the tension, then, that accompanies my life as a gardener? Which is worse -- having to weed? Or having a garden that looks like my sister's hair in the morning?

Bottom line: I spent several hours in the garden this weekend. In addition to the slight sunburn (despite wearing my new "head umbrella," which I won at a recent Canada Day party because I answered all the hockey questions correctly on the Canada trivia quiz) on my neck, I also contracted an affliction I have named "Weeder's Finger." Weeder's Finger is a pain that starts between the thumb and forefinger and shoots across the palm to the base of the pinky. You don't understand; our garden was (and still is) really weedy, and I pulled zillions of them. (See "before" and "after" shots above -- of just one row of our garden.)

Something has to give here. I can't be weeding like this all summer. Yes, we have lettuce coming out our eyeballs, and yes, the peas are as sweet as can be. But I just don't like looking at a garden that looks like a rat's nest. And my Weeder's Finger can't handle pulling too many more.

I'm just about at my breaking point.

Morning Fog

2011-07-01T09:53:00.004-04:00

I look out the window every morning when I wake. In theory, a quick glance should tell me about the day to come, how to dress, and what to expect. In reality, however, my early morning data from the window is generally misinformation.

Because we live yards from the Winooski River in a corridor of farm fields and flood plains, a morning mist hangs over us regardless of season. Walking the dogs in the morning is always a grey (but not gloomy) activity -- grey in the sense that low clouds block whatever "real" weather exists beyond.

I've learned to predict by feel. Although every morning looks grey and cloudy, I can feel whether it's going to be a rainy day or whether the sun will burn off the fog in an hour or two. On a sunny summer day, you can often see a bluish tint to the mist above. On days when you leave the house, you'll drive through the clouds, turn away from the river, and -- suddenly -- a blinding sun greets you. Looking back, you can see a ribbon of low clouds smothering the river valley that winds among the hills.

I like our misty mornings. I don't need to see the sun to know it's coming. And when it does finally make its appearance and the clouds begins to burn away, I appreciate it all the more.

Smashing Pumpkin!

2011-06-19T17:27:00.002-04:00

Alison Aiken, just weeks after rocking the triathlon world with her stunning performance at Bristol, New Hampshire's Mooseman 70.3 Half-Ironman has announced her entry in an upcoming 2011 half-ironman. Many onlookers expected her to retire after the Mooseman, but -- despite an injury -- she proved that she is at the top of her game. "So many great memories," she says of Mooseman. Sources close to the sport expect nothing less than another outstanding performance from Aiken.

In a related story, Mark Aiken has also decided to race the squash event. This move has experts more than a little befuddled. Although his slapshot has improved in recent months, the other Aiken has done little to prove that he is capable of competing -- or even finishing -- an endurance event this grueling. "He must have been tricked -- or conned," said one anonymous triathlon specialist. Said another, "Maybe he's delusional."

The field is shaping up to be phenomenal -- Marty, Kristin, Lauren, world champ Maria, and many more will be there. An exciting event to say the least.

Inspirational Athletes

2011-06-09T10:37:00.006-04:00

What a week in sports!

A picture says a thousands words, and this accompanying image simply sent chills down my spine. Robert Gordon Orr at the beginning of Game 4 of the Stanley Cup finals waved a giant flag bearing the number 18 for fallen Bruin Nathan Horton. Of course the B's won the game -- with inspiration like that, how could they lose?

For anyone who wonders what was the difference between the Bruins in Games 1 and 2 and the Bruins team that showed up for Games 3 and 4, the answer is obvious: the Rome hit on Horton was the difference. I am looking for a big Boston victory in Game 5.

Speaking of inspirational athletes, I witnessed an incredible display of athleticism this past Sunday at the Mooseman half-ironman triathlon. Actually, the display has been going on for months (that's how long it takes to train for an event like this), and Sunday was just the culmination -- a victory parade, if you will. Well, if victory parades are ever this grueling.

Congratulations to Marty, Kristin, Lauren, and Alison for kicking rear end in this unbelievably hilly endurance course. They dealt with frigid water temperatures in the 1.2-mile swim, Devil's Hill twice in the 56-mile bike, and several other nasty hills in the half-marathon run. They all looked great and performed amazingly. Their dedication to training all winter and spring paid off.

And, finally, speaking of athletes, thanks to Doug and Ruth for spectating with me. Just so you know, keeping up with these to uber-bikers while we were pedaling to the best viewpoints on the course was no walk in the park! Thanks for being part of the best spectating team in the race!

97 (Potential) Strawberries!

2011-05-25T16:01:00.005-04:00

This weekend is it! The seedlings are going in the garden! In order to get things ready, I have been slaving away erecting a fence. After all, just yesterday morning, Gladys the puppy saw her first deer -- two doe grazing not 75 feet from the garden. The point of all the work getting these starters going for the last two months is not to feed a bunch of animals! (You could, in fact, rename this garden "Operation Feed Mark and Ali.") Also, some animal -- maybe a raccoon or fox -- has been trespassing in the raised bed where I planted lettuce, spinach, and mesclun. Most of those, I fear, aren't coming up as a result. So we will have a fence by the weekend -- that's a promise.

In the meantime, there are a few plants already going -- the garlic (planted last fall), peas (planted in April -- same as the greens), and strawberries (perennials). I am most excited right now about the strawberries -- my favorite fruit. At last counting, there are 97 flowers in our strawberry patch (see photo) -- a patch which started as about 10 plants installed just last year. Last year's harvest -- about 10 berries a day for most of the summer -- was a pleasant surprise, and summer 2011 is shaping up to blow last 2010 out of the water. Let's hope so.

In the meantime, if you are looking for me, I'll probably be outside working on the fence.

Vindication!

2011-05-24T18:19:00.006-04:00

Every now and then my father brings up the time I mowed his pear tree. When I was about 8 years-old, he, my Uncle John, my sister, and I planted a small orchard -- about 20 apple, plum, cherry, and pear trees -- next to our camp in North Hero. 30 years later, it is a beautiful orchard, but one of the trees didn't make it.

In an unrelated story, I recently received an email from an old friend. Out of touch since we were teenagers, Phillip came across my website and gave me a shout-out to see if I remembered. He wrote, "Do you have a sister named Lisa and a father named Howard? Is your birthday in March? If yes, my birthday is the day before yours, and I used to spend several weeks with you each summer when we were 9, 10, or 11."

Of course I remember. We met Phillip when his father built the North Hero camp, and our families remained good friends ever since -- they even joined us at holidays. Well, until we sort of lost touch -- probably 20 years ago. But good friends remain friends, and it has been great catching up with Phillip via email -- we have talked about our times spent together and filled each other in about where we've been since and where we are now. He lives in Chicago, is divorced with two kids, and has a beautiful red-haired girlfriend. I can't wait to see him in person sometime.

His memories of the times spent with us are fond. And his recall of details is amazing: the double sinks in our old house, the Air Supply song my sister and I loved on the radio one summer, and the time he used all seven Scrabble tiles on one word and got the 50-point bonus. He had one more memory that wasn't as fond. He recalled our ride-on mower and 2-acre lawn. "Once I mowed the grass," he writes, "and accidentally rode over some newly planted tree and destroyed it." He kept it a secret (something he regrets now) because he loved visiting us and was afraid he wouldn't be invited back. I can understand his fear. It's been 30 years that my dad has accused me of mowing that tree!

Well, I want the world to know two things. One, it is great to be back in touch with my friend Phillip. And, two, I didn't mow that tree. It's been 30 years, and I am innocent!

The Right Tool for the Job

2011-05-20T08:15:00.005-04:00

When I was 20, I never would have believed that I'd be blogging about planting grass in my backyard. One, they didn't have blogs 20 years ago, and two, why would I have believed that I'd have sunk to writing about such mundane topics?

Well, 20-year-old Mark, the backyard needed grass seed, but have no fear: I'm not blogging about it. Rather, this is a write-up about the tools I used. It's a subtle but important difference.

We already seeded the yard twice. First, using 5-year-old grass seed, we put the seed down and watched 4 straight days of driving rain wash it all away. Later, using the same 5-year-old grass seed, we sprinkled it on the areas in need, covered them with straw, and watched absolutely nothing happen. Clearly, the seed was past its usefulness. So I went to the store for more, and the guy recommended breaking up the soil in addition to covering it up with straw. So I raked up the straw and went about breaking up the hard-pack topsoil.

With a shovel -- which made for slow, tedious work. What I really needed, I realized, was an aerator -- one of those spiked rollers that would really break things up with much less effort. For some reason, I poked my head inside our tool shed... and low and behold, hanging on the wall was an aerator (pictured above)!

Where did it come from? I certainly never had one. Could it be that when I married the lovely Alison two and a half years ago I unknowingly married a girl who owned an aerator? However it came to being, it made the job much more pleasant -- and quicker. The soil is broken up, the seed spread, and the hay scattered. And Alison informed me that when her neighbor moved away 5 years ago, her roommate at the time pulled the aerator -- along with our clothes-drying rack -- out of his dumpster.

Really? The neighbor's dumpster? We use the drying rack all the time, but I never knew it came as the result of dumpster-diving. And, as for the aerator, it only took 5 years, but we finally used it too.

Small Town Government

2011-05-17T11:56:00.004-04:00

Wanting to be involved in my town, I attended a Richmond selectboard meeting last night. It was government in action, a slice of Americana, citizens and residents looking out for their home. It was also pretty darn entertaining.

Most of the entertainment value came from one disgruntled resident who was sitting behind me. I have experienced her in town before -- she has always been exceedingly rude -- and I am very pleased to discover that it wasn't just me she doesn't like. She doesn't much care for the members of the Select Board either! The chairman of the board had to interrupt her during her 4 or 5 outbursts. She used to be on the board, but was removed in the last election. She has definitely taken on the role of "Member at Large" since her ouster.

During the meeting, I watched them listen to a report from the school board, take away my favorite parking spot in front of our grocery store (they're worried, apparently that I might run over a kid walking by -- probably a legitimate concern given the unsafety of the spot), delay a decision on a private canoe rental company, and outlaw the tasting of wine samples at our community farmers market. Doesn't sound very interesting? I assure you that the human interactions, outbursts from the angry lady, side conversations, and the back-and-forth discussions were better than anything that was on TV last night (bear in mind that the Celtics have been eliminated and the Bruins weren't on till tonight).

Besides, it's my town -- and that made everything that happened at the meeting very interesting to me.

Letter to April Frost

2011-05-12T13:40:00.000-04:00

Dear April,

Thank you for the “Think Like a Dog” program you held at your home on May 7. Even though you started right out by telling me that my dog’s misbehavior was my fault not his, I didn’t take this the wrong way. I feel I deserve some credit for taking this the right way and not being offended; on the other hand, you did explain exactly why this is the truth -- and you are right.

Your demos were expert, but you taught me what I need to know to train my dogs. And you didn’t just “tell”; throughout the program, the practice sessions were helpful and confidence-building. I want you to know that we have taken what we learned on Saturday, and we have been practicing and training all week.

And we have already noticed changes – not the least of which is that we are a happier family. Our dogs want to behave, and they have just been waiting for us to learn how to communicate to them how they are supposed to act.

Thank you for teaching us!

April Frost owns Animal Visions Holistic Center for Animals and Humans

A Rock Star...

2011-05-10T17:47:00.002-04:00

...I'm not, but what I am is playing at the Open Mike at On the Rise Bakery in Richmond. This Thursday, 7:30PM. The pizza's good, the music fun... and everyone who's anyone in Richmond will be there. Don't miss out!

Ahh, Spring Rolls!

2011-05-09T12:19:00.010-04:00

Spring is here, which means the April issue of EatingWell magazine has been out for weeks and weeks. And besides the usual interesting articles, the well-researched features, and the scores of great original recipes, this April’s issue had something else: a contribution by me! That's right -- I did some photo captions and a small write-up about everyone’s favorite spring vegetable, asparagus.

EW is a funny place, because they always have to think seasons ahead. The magazine is focused on fresh food in-season, but if you ever visit their headquarters, there’s something amiss. You don’t put your finger on it immediately, but eventually you figure it out. In order to get season-specific recipes in each issues, they are barbecuing in February and March, they’re slow-cooking stews in June, and they are testing holiday cookies in September. So we did this asparagus project back in January.

When I first saw the layout for the asparagus piece, the photos of the salmon-and-asparagus spring rolls really jumped out at me. In fact, I made a mental note that I would make them as soon as the asparagus came up. Of course, that was months ago, and I almost forgot. Until, shopping the other day, I came across shelves of asparagus. Instantly everything came back.

The rice paper was a little difficult to handle (which is why my rolls in the photo look like they do and not like the ones in the photo that came out of the test kitchen -- well, that and the fact that this is ME we're talking about and not the experts in the test kitchen!); I actually found lukewarm water to be more effective than the “very” hot that the magazine recommends . Maybe, since they tested in the dead of winter, they just wanted everything hot. Also, I substituted sweet potatoes (which I needed to use up) for carrots (which I didn’t have.) Besides, since they’re the same color, who would know the difference?

My favorite things about the spring rolls were the dipping sauce (soy sauce, orange juice, lemon juice, and crushed red pepper) and the asparagus that had just the right crunch, and wasn’t all chewy from being overcooked like the way I usually do it. These spring rolls were just a riot of different flavors -- that all went together well. Besides, I always like colorful food -- and this one had the bright green of asparagus in spring, pink, orange, and red. As I wrote for the EW blurb, Ahh, spring rolls!

Raspberry Patch

2011-05-05T16:44:00.013-04:00

"Although I have at different times grown, with more or less success, nearly all species of hardy bush fruits, I have always been partial to the red raspberry."
-- George Aiken

Two years ago, my uncle David Aiken dropped 7 or 8 raspberry plants on my porch. "For your garden," he said. At the time, we didn't have much of a garden; just a 10x20 foot plot over which I had run the tiller and constructed three cedar beds. Along the western edge, we sunk the berry bushes in the clay.

Since then, the garden has grown, and so have the berries. Each year, we have reclaimed more of the field of goldenrod that surrounds our garden, so that it is twice the size we started with. And, not wanting a berry patch right in the dead center of a vegetable garden, last weekend we dug them up and moved them -- about 25 bushes in all.

A few things to note. First, Uncle David warns me that we will be forever digging up raspberries from the original patch location. "Unless you think you got all the runners," he says, meaning "there's no way you got all the runners." Okay, I can live with that. When it comes to gardening, I generally don't like to do things right the first time anyway. Second, the new patch location is near the edge of our lawn. Another life goal nearer to accomplished: to minimize my time spent cutting grass! If David, as he promised, shows up with blackberry bushes, we'll dig up even more of the lawn and insert them.

Finally, my great grandfather George wrote that history does repeat itself. I'm not saying I'm nearly the farmer he was, but I will say that these plants descend from his berry patch in Putney, Vermont.** I don't have his green thumb, but we are, in fact, growing food at my home and putting it on the table to eat. And it's not just rewarding to keep that legacy alive; it's a lot of fun too.

**Important note: when the original berry patch was planted, one of the plants came from Sue McKain's yard in Connecticut. Does this mean the Aiken strain in my patch isn't completely pure? If yes, that's fine by me; in fact, I prefer a hybrid anyway.

Utah Where Have You Been?

2011-05-03T16:30:00.009-04:00

This post is quite delayed; the goings-on that follow occurred a month ago! But I just can't change seasons without mentioning the past winter's crowning runs. We arrived in Utah for the 600th inch of their record-breaking year.

The suspects were the usual: David, Jill, Howard, Chris, Bob, Sue, me, John, Lisa, Ali, Em, and Jack (I believe these are in order by age). Also making appearances throughout the week were Glenn, Michelle, Kurt, and Kurt (no order here). Not much was happening weather-wise when we arrived, but the next morning, the "Stay-inside-or-else" chain was across the condo door so they could do control work on 14-20 new inches of snow. The first few days continued that way as we took turns skiing Alta and Snowbird. I took a day off in there somewhere to run 19 miles in Salt Lake City and on the Bonneville Shoreline Trail at the foot of the Wasatch. (And no, I can not explain how running 19 miles constitutes a "day off.")

The snow hit again towards the end, and Johnny and I met Colchester native Kurt Sowles for a backcountry day in Big Cottonwood Canyon and my best (and snowiest) turns of the year. What runs!

The week was full of great snow, great company, great food, hotly contested Jenga and Spot It games, and plenty of beer-(and wine)-drinking.

I couldn't believe it when the week was up. One thing is certain, though: I could live in Utah. (Wait a minute, I have lived in Utah!) Well, put it this way then: I feel the same way as Emily. From her note to Jill and Howard: "I can't wait to do it again next year!"

Gladiator

2011-04-25T06:50:00.003-04:00

Meet the new addition to the Aiken family unit. Gladys is part border collie, part spaniel, and part unknown. She was rescued from a shelter for strays in Tennessee with a high kill rate and fostered for 3 months in Kentucky before coming north to Vermont. She went for two walks yesterday (her first full day with us) while Oscar was out running. She loves her new home and new family... and we love her!

Boston!

2011-04-21T17:24:00.006-04:00

It was a journey, full of ups and downs, but we did it! On Patriots' Day 2011, Ali and I ran the Boston Marathon. We spent 3 days in Beantown, staying with amazing hosts the Halls. Hilary Hall impressed all by running her first-ever marathon while raising $18K for cancer research. Ali and I ran the whole race with our friend Lauren. Kristen, who qualified for the race on the same day as Ali, ran an amazing PR. Ryan Hall (we suspect some distant relation to Hilary) broke the Boston course record, but only placed 4th, while Geoffry Mutai set a world marathon record.

We were pretty cold waiting for the start, and I nearly ruptured my bladder on the bus ride to the start. Otherwise, it was a great day on the oldest marathon in the world, a great crowd, and a great weekend.

Now I can focus on the Spring's most important race: the Vermont City.

The Over-40 Club

2011-03-11T09:13:00.008-05:00

Many people dread milestone birthdays, but I have rarely had a year start off so well. Although my birthday wasn't until Monday, festivities started on Friday when Alison, Oscar, and I went backcountry skiing (see photo) and then Ali took me out for dinner at our favorite Richmond restaurant (I had the Steak Frites). Saturday I had to work, but when I walked in the door (five minutes late) all my coworkers had a donut waiting for me with candles. After they sang their rendition of Happy Birthday to You (it was rousing, let me assure you), I made my wish -- "I want snow on my birthday" -- and blew out the candles. Saturday night, Alison threw a great party for me here at our house. What a great time. Not only did she tidy up to the point that I thought I had walked into the wrong house when I first got home, she and the other party-goers made tons of great food. (While it was all amazing, the highlight may have been Jenni's "Death by Chocolate." Wow.) Again, there were candles and singing; again, I wished for snow on my birthday. Sunday, I took a rare weekend day off and, before a birthday dinner (jumbalaya) with my dad and Jill, ran 10-miles with Ali, Oscar, and our running group -- in the rain in 35 degrees. It sucked. BUT... it was a celebration of Jan Leja's 400th organized Sunday group run. So afterwards, we all forgot about how much it stunk running in freezing rain and went to breakfast...

... where through the windows we watched the rain turn over to snow. It snowed all day and all night. And all day the next day -- my official 40th birthday! See? Birthday wishes do come true, so take them seriously. Driving to work, the interstate was the worst I have ever seen it. I called Alison and told her not to go to work. Alison called her boss, who invoked the "Powder Day Rule" and the two of them came to Stowe for the day with friends Patrick and Sarah. Work was like play, so I got to make a bunch of runs in unbelievable snow. All told, it was Vermont's 5th largest snowstorm ever -- and the biggest in March history. Happy Birthday to me! Anyway, then I went to Monday night hockey where many players seemed to have been scared off by the snow. However, although many weren't there to witness it, I scored what is known as a Birthday Hat Trick... that's right: 3 goals on one's birthday.

Moral of the story: for those who haven't turned yet, get psyched. 40 is the bomb!

New Era

2011-02-26T05:41:00.005-05:00

Have you ever had the experience where, for example, you bring a raincoat, but it never rains?

That has been my experience after purchasing and installing (with much assistance from my neighbor Mark G, without whom I don't know how I'd survive!) an agressive set of tire chains on our plow truck. (The photo doesn't really do justice to the "teeth" on these things -- great for traction and for chopping up the solid snow and ice that can make a driveway treacherous!) With all the snow we have had this winter, it has been quite a struggle out here in backwoods Richmond! Alison and I are like homesteaders up here on our hill, digging out our woodpiles, shoveling our roof, and plowing our 800-foot-long driveway. And, although I do love all the snow (and hope for more), it had gotten the better of me; on a couple occasions I got the old plow truck stuck.

No more. I put those chains on and waited for more snow, but it never came. Until yesterday. A good 10-12 inches covered the driveway, and I was ready at 5AM today. I plowed that driveway so it's nice and wide. I pushed snow uphill and then backed the pickup into position for the next storm around the turn in the drive and to the top of the hill. Readers, be the first to know: it's a new era in snow removal in Richmond.

Backyard Ski Adventure

2011-02-04T17:15:00.008-05:00

With the latest storm, backcountry ski season is definitely here. For today's adventure, I didn't venture far. I didn't drive and I didn't need to catch a ride. Where did I go, you wonder? I hit the ol' backyard!

Our house is situated in a nook surrounded by hills on three sides. And these hills are steep! The problem is that there is alot of fallen timber behind us, but I always figured if we got enough snow, there could be some quality turns back there.

Verdict: I was right!

Oscar and I went down the driveway and skinned our way up the "Peninsula" -- a small outcrop of a hill that juts out from the main geographic feature (and forms one side of the three surrounding the house). There was so much snow -- more, I think than in some of the higher Green Mountains (or maybe it was because I was breaking trail in this spot for the first time all season). At the ridge, we traversed a ways -- picking our way through fallen trees -- until we came to the line above our house.

The whole way, Oscar had to bound like a deer to get through the snow. And although he put more tracks in the snow than me, he made one thing clear: this dog loves the downhills! (For more on his downhill antics, click on the top photo. Yes, that's him airborne at the bottom of the pitch!) Anyway, for my part, I loved the whole adventure -- the up, the down, the views of the neighborhood, the views of our home, and especially starting and ending right here.

Photos: Left: Oscar breaking trail. Right: ski tracks.

Minus 24

2011-01-24T18:32:00.004-05:00

You'd think the end of the world was coming. Radio DJs, newspapers, and TV news have been predicting it all week: freezing cold coming this weekend. They were giving advice on how to survive, what to do and not to do, alternatives to being outside, and so forth. The last thing anyone would do after listening to the reports of gloom and doom this week would have been to venture out-of-doors.

Well, Ali and I had a rare day off together on Sunday, so despite the cold, we decided to go for a backcountry ski trip regardless. If it was too cold for us (or Oscar) we could turn around, right? Usually, the last thing I want to see at a trailhead is cars. But when we arrived to find about 13 cars at Sunday's packed little trailhead, I found myself glad. "Good," I thought. "There are other people out there in the world smart enough to find out for themselves rather than trust the media."

Imagine if we had listened? We'd have missed a beautiful trip in the woods, a wrong turn that enabled us to make some turns in a spot we'd never skied before, and Oscar bounding through the snow like a dog on a mission. Thanks to the media for being wrong so often I no longer listen. Nothing you say can scare me.

Musical Event of the Year

2011-01-17T05:49:00.002-05:00

In the biggest musical event to hit Richmond in all of 2011 (so far), folk meets soul as Mark Aiken and Leon Walls join forces at Richmond's best nightspot On the Rise Bakery.

Wednesday, January 19 at On the Rise. Don't miss it!

Holiday Traditions

2010-12-25T11:13:00.005-05:00

When I was 19 years old, I participated in a boot hockey game on Christmas Eve morning. Every Christmas Eve since, that game has been held on the beautiful Bahrenburg pond -- 20 years. Holiday traditions are special, aren't they? Traditions that emphasize family, giving, and holiday celebration. This particular tradition -- just as special in my opinion -- is all about friends, the outdoors, and that sacred winter activity known as hockey. I guarantee that everyone on the pond yesterday feels the same as me -- that our annual Boot League is one of the most special of winter traditions.

Happy Holidays everyone!

One Last Bit of Summer

2010-12-21T06:12:00.004-05:00

In an effort to get one last bit of summer before the long, cold Vermont winter, Alison and I went to Mexico this fall! You may think this is old news, because we went at the end of November. But such is the way it goes in AikenAction Land; I'm a bit behind on my reporting!

The nice thing is that we missed a rainy Vermont week right before the snow started falling. We ran, rode bikes, snorkled, sat on the beach, and -- maybe best of all -- ate unbelievable food for 10 days. The food was a highlight because it was so good! Everything we ordered at restaurants was totally fresh. We bought a lot of fresh food -- corn tortillas made that day at the tortillaria, fresh snapper at the pescatoria, veggies at the vegetable stand, and so forth -- and cooked several great meals at home.

Have you ever had corn tortillas from an American grocery store? They are dry and crumbly... because they're just not fresh. And that has always frustrated me. The only thing they're good for is my famous enchilada casserole (a topic for a future post) -- not for tacos or anything like that. But we went to one restaurant in Tulum -- La Lorena -- where I asked the owner to show me how they make tortillas. Then I went straight to the hardware store and bought a tortilla press to bring home. Which has begun a new era in Mexican cooking here in Richmond. Fresh corn tortillas are the bomb!

We met Rob and Amy French down there, which made the trip even more amazing than it already was. While there, Rob tested every flavor of hot sauce available on the Yucatan, thereby receiving the "Hot Sauce Award" (see photo of trophy. This particular trophy is an heirloom and will most likely be cherished by him for years to come. Congratulations Rob. (For more background info on the trophy, click here.)

And now that I have this tropical fix out of my system, let's get on with Winter!

No Excuse

2010-12-12T22:05:00.003-05:00

There's really no excuse. My dog Oscar, author of "AskOscarDog," the wildly popular dog blog, hasn't had much of anything going on lately. Yet he hasn't put up a post in months! Meanwhile, I have been running around like a chicken with my head cut off, working two jobs, climbing at the gym, attending and working skiing events all over Vermont, playing hockey. And Oscar has nothing going on.

So why he hasn't been posting is beyond me. All I know is, with a schedule like his, I am sure we can expect much more regular activity on his blog moving forward.

Fire in Stove

2010-10-25T09:30:00.006-04:00

It takes a whole season to prepare and gather a wood supply to heat one's house in wintertime. In fact, with wood needing to dry for a year or more, you could say it takes even longer.

But when the temperatures drop, the air gets damp, and the house ceases to be the warm haven it has been in early fall, I always look forward to getting the wood stove fired up. That said, I always try to put off the first fire too. No need to waste our wood, right?

Finally, though, temperatures drop into the thirties and forties and frost covers the lawn every morning for weeks. It's time. I cut the kindling; I ball up newpaper. The long, straight chimney draws the smoke up above, and the wood crackles. Suddenly, we forget all rooms of the house except the front room with the stove. The flames dancing inside the glass doors are more captivating than television, and the non-stove areas of the house resign themselves to a winter season of neglect.

Heating with wood is a dirty, troublesome task that is ongoing throughout the year. But once we light the first fire, I forget the difficulties and enjoy the warm dry heat that a wood fire provides.

Boston-Bound!

2010-10-10T09:22:00.013-04:00

Alison Aiken is headed to Boston! That's right... last Sunday she achieved the impossible; in the first-ever Smuttynose Marathon along the seacoast in Hampton, New Hampshire, she ran a Boston-qualifying time of 3:44:20. Yayyy, Alison! What made the accomplishment even more special was the fact that Ali's training partner Kristen Courcelle was also on-hand at Smuttynose. The two runners, determined to qualify, ran in several triathlons and foot-races this summer, and they did speedwork together too -- often in hurricane-like and rainy conditions. But regardless of weather, they never bagged out of a workout. The result: Kristen also qualified with over a minute to spare. Both of them ran strategically perfect races and remembered their rainy sprint workouts in the final miles. There were never two more deserving qualifiers!

Big congratulations also go out to Marty Courcelle, Newton Baker, and Mark Aiken, who ran strong marathons and to Heather Jarochym who kicked rear-end in her first-ever half-marathon.

All in all, it was a beautiful day in which many accomplishments were made and many goals achieved. And that's what recreational running is all about.

**Note: you will notice the sleeve-like things hanging off Alison's waist (directly under her race number) in the photo; these arm warmers were cut out of an old pair of ski socks and were meant to be "throw-aways" once she warmed up as the race got underway. But not Alison. She carried the old socks for 25 miles, and she will have them for the next race she runs... and probably the one after that and the one after that.

Roasting Dogs

2010-09-29T10:34:00.008-04:00

Hot dogs, that is. Obviously!

Less obvious -- and you may find this surprising -- is that until a few weeks ago, I had never roasted a hot dog on a stick. How did this come about? Well, how I went 39 years without doing it, I'm not sure. I have great experience with s'mores around a campfire, but I guess I limited my expertise to sweet desserts.

This Labor Day weekend, however, Alison and I decided to spend three or four days at the Aiken camp in North Hero. Unfortunately, our hot and dry summer came to an abrupt halt a few days before the weekend; one of the Atlantic off-shore hurricanes sent off-and-on rain and crazy wind our direction for the whole weekend, confining our activities mostly to reading, Scrabble, and other indoor pursuits.

One night for dinner, however, we ran into trouble. It was so windy we couldn't keep the gas grill lit. Fortunately, we had decided to have a fire in the fireplace. And I think the accompanying photos (along with demonstrating exactly how bald I have become here in my old age!) tell the rest of the story. Jalepeno chicken sausages roasted over hot coals, a whole wheat bun, sauteed onions, and spicy mustard... and I had myself a great meal! S'mores for dessert and a few beers to wash it down... and I was ushering out the last of summer in style.

The Cup

2010-09-15T21:44:00.003-04:00

What a lucky girl. On her second anniversary, Alison Aiken got to have dinner with her in-laws AND get her picture taken with Lord Stanley's Cup. Amazing... What a life she leads!

Go Ahead

2010-09-08T13:26:00.011-04:00

Are you serious? Sometimes I can't believe the stuff I read in the news. Ordinarily, this isn't a political or current events blog, but some stuff is so ludicrous, I can't let it slide. FIrst it was this mosque down the street from the Ground Zero site. Now it's this reverend who plans to have a Quran-burning in front of his church on Saturday.

Here's where we're at, the way I understand things: pretty much everyone agrees that it is his First Amendment right to have his little book-burning. Everyone is also pretty much in agreement that he's a goldarn idiot for doing it. Most further agree that extremists abroad are only going to take this act the wrong way and that the backlash can only mean bad news for American troops and tourists overseas. Again, I have to ask: you're really serious?

This reverend character has called his critics "cowardly." He has called the Islamic extremists who might retaliate against Americans cowards as well. Well, here's what I say. Anyone can burn the Quran down in Gainesville with our police and armed forces protecting him and his First Amendment right. If he's going to call everyone cowards, how about stepping up to the plate? Why not hold his little book-burning over in Afghanistan or Pakistan? Yeah! Find a city square, maybe right in downtown Islamabad, and set up shop. Then burn your books... go right ahead.

Update 9/13/2010: This reverend guy did end up canceling his book-burning... most likely in response to the logic put forth in this blog.

Latest Article: Climbing the Six Summits

2010-09-07T09:55:00.011-04:00

Check out my latest article -- which chronicles my journey this summer to the high point of each of the New England states and which appeared in the September 5 issue of the New York Times. Also be sure to check out their sweet interactive map that accompanied the article. Nice job on the map, NYT!

And, finally, some photos from the adventure: top left: Johnny at the top of Connecticut (JG), top right: me at the Three Corners (JG), bottom left: the high point of Rhode Island, and bottom right: the diner where we had breakfast in Rhode Island (JG). For some real New England accents, check this place out.

New Dental Expert

2010-09-03T13:59:00.002-04:00

Despite having just one filling (lifetime), I am no dental expert. However, after interviewing 16 dentists in 6 months, here's where I am an expert: when it comes to Dentists in New Hampshire!

The latest dental exclusive appears in Around Concord magazine. If you like teeth, this one will really give you something to chew on! Exciting write-ups on 7 dentists. Now that's a mouthful.

Okay, enough with the dental puns. Click here to read the profiles.

Chicks Dig Runners

2010-09-01T11:09:00.005-04:00

Running has a lot of positive benefits -- it's cheap, keeps you in shape, gives you the leeway to eat more -- but most obviously... chicks dig runners! Here I am enjoying this benefit before the "Dress for Success" leg up the Killington Mountain Road during last weekend's Heart of Vermont Relay. I definitely plan to keep running... and I think I might stick with the hairdo.

Slugs With Drinking Problems

2010-08-23T11:30:00.006-04:00

For the most part, our vegetable garden has remained predator-free this summer. Although it is surrounded by two-foot-high chicken-wire-style fencing, I do not doubt that any deer, squirrel, or rabbit that wanted to munch our lettuce, tomatoes, squash, or berries, could certainly step or hop right over the barrier. But, so far, the garden has remained more or less undisturbed. Japanese beetles did attack one basil plant, but one carefully placed beetle trap 40 feet from the garden seems to have mitigated that problem.

There is one pest that, until recently, we couldn't seem to defend against: slugs. When our plants were young, slugs would eat the plants. Once they bore fruit or veggies, these slugs and snails would crawl onto the veggie, leave their slimy trails, and munch away. And there was really nothing we could do.

Until I left a mostly empty beer can in the garden. The next morning, it was covered with slugs. Could it be? Were these slimy gastropod molluscs actually alcoholic?

Answer: yes they are. I started leaving 2-inch-tall cups of old beer in the garden. Every morning, the cups would be full of slugs who had drunk themselves blind and then drowned! First, I used an old Coors Light that had been in the garage (hot then cold then hot then cold). They loved it. But I wondered, are all slugs lager-lovers? In the back of my refrigerator, there has been a Long Trail Blackbeary wheat beer for some months. I am not a big "fruity" beer drinker, so I decided to give it a go. Up I filled the little cups and then I came to check it out next morning. Sure enough, there are plenty of slugs with more discerning palates; all the cups were full.

Here is what I have surmised. Slugs are drunks. If you want to rid your garden of them, beer is the answer. If you feel sad for them, perhaps suggest some sort of program, but remember, you can't help them if they don't want to help themselves. However, do pass along that I don't want them eating food in the garden. Otherwise, I will be there -- with beer, that lethal toxin to which they can't say no.

Article Covers Triathlon Camp

2010-08-08T00:52:00.004-04:00

Check out my latest article in Vermont Sports about Maria Cimonetti's triathlon camp. An awesome coach teaches an awesome sport!

Man Lost In Garden

2010-08-05T12:29:00.018-04:00

(RICHMOND) A northern Vermont man disappeared late Wednesday. He was last seen harvesting sun-gold tomatoes in his vegetable garden.

The man, identified as Mark Aiken, never claimed to be a good gardener, although his agricultural endeavors have improved from 4 years ago when his only production was a single red tomato that fell off the vine and rolled down his driveway only to rot between two rocks. This year, he has actually overseen a 20x50 foot plot that is bursting with peas, squash, tomatoes, greens, berries, and cucumbers.

The garden, in fact, was jungle-like -- particularly where 5-foot tall tomato plants have been over-run by chest-high zucchini plants. The last Alison Aiken saw, her husband was reaching into the wall of overlapping plants. She heard a muffled yell and some sounds of a struggle. When she looked back, the man was gone, the only clue that anything had passed: two manhole-sized zucchini leaves rustling slightly in the breeze. No sign of her husband remained.

Despite the man's disappearance, Mrs. Aiken is quite pleased about the strawberries, tomatoes, and squash that continue to grow. The cucumbers -- which have proved to be the most prolific growers of 2010 -- she can take or leave. "My husband ate most of these," she said, "in salads, plain, or with dip."

The only witness was an owl (see photo), whose services were retained by the Aikens for security issues in the garden. He declined to comment on the case, saying that this particular situation was beyond his jurisdiction. When pressed as to what, exactly, his jurisdiction did include, he answered with one word: "Birds."

If you have any information regarding the whereabouts of this individual, please contact the appropriate authorities.

Ultra-Runners Go the Distance at Vermont 100

2010-07-19T10:32:00.006-04:00

This weekend, I changed my running status: I became an ultra. An ultra is a runner who has run a distance greater than 26.2 miles.

Enough about me, however. My 30-mile run was simply to keep Todd Archambault on the race course late at night (we finished just shy of 2am)... after he had already run 70 miles of the Vermont 100 Endurance Run. Todd was one of 130 athletes who completed the entire 100-mile race on an "ultra-hot" Vermont summer day. Todd had a busy week at work, and I don't think he was adequately rested for an event like this. Add to this, he was nursing a seriously injured heel. But he battled these factors, plus dehydration and overheating, to come in under the 24-hour threshold and earn the coveted Vermont 100 belt buckle. There were other runners who have run in our Sunday Run With Jan group at the event: Serena Wilcox and Steve Meunier. Both finished. Also from our area were Kelly Wilson (ultra ski instructor from Stowe!), Jen Sorel, and John LaCroix. All finished. Obviously, northern Vermont runners are doing something right!

Although this weekend's Vermont 100 was my first glimpse of the ultra-running world, I found that previous experiences from my life helped me to feel right at home. A veteran of 3 camp-out Phish festivals, I noticed more than one similarity between an Ultra event and a Phish festival.

First, both groups arrive a day in advance in hole-in-the-wall places full of excitement and anticipation. They set up their tents, talking about past and future experiences and sharing stories. The day of the event arrives and, in both cases, participants approach their days with strategies, plans, and methods for maximizing their experiences. The events themselves are long and grueling -- survivable by only the fittest and most prepared. Late in the evening, certain members of both groups hallucinate, hearing voices and seeing shapes. The morning following the event, exhausted and battle-worn, people share stories over camp stoves and bagels about their past 24 hours as they pack up and get ready -- wistfully, in most cases -- to re-enter the real world. They say their goodbyes, knowing that they will all be together in some field someday in the future at another venue, another event.

Here's to all the runners who put themselves out there in the attempt -- successful or not -- to run 100 whole miles this weekend. And to the friends and supporters who helped and supported them in their quests to finish. And to the people who put the event together. It was an unbelievable weekend.

Great Book

2010-07-13T14:21:00.004-04:00

Have you ever finished a book that was so good you didn’t want to pick up another for awhile? As if to bask in the glow of the one you just put down...

That’s how I feel about Leif Enger’s Peace Like a River (Grove/Atlantic), which I finished at around 1:30am after about a 5-hour marathon read of the final chapters. I’ve never been much of a fan of the reviews that publishers quote on bookcovers, but a critic from the San Francisco Chronicle does sort of hit it on the head on my edition’s cover: “Peace Like a River serves as a reminder of why we read fiction to begin with.”

Exactly right; published in 2001 and set between Minnesota and the Badlands, Enger creates characters that are real – even though men can’t levitate (as one of Enger's does) and 6 year-olds can’t write epics with perfect rhyme and iambic meter (again, one of his does) – and plotlines that are fantastical, heroic, tragic, and romantic. All at once!

Read Peace Like a River. Read it if you like historical fiction and modern fiction, heroic characters and characters who are flawed. If you like characters who reach out and grab you and villains you can’t stand.

Read Peace Like a River if you want a book you can’t put down.

Summer Rules

2010-07-06T12:01:00.010-04:00

I do not have many rules, so listen up.

First rule: in summertime, when you pass kids selling lemonade by the side of the road, stop and buy some.

Even if you don't have time.

Even if you were going the wrong way and have to turn around.

Even if you don't like lemonade.

Here's the deal: these kids are sitting diligently out in the heat -- taking breaks only periodically to run through the sprinkler. It's not, come to think of it, so different from actually starting up a new business. Lots of excitement initially accompanies the fanfare surrounding getting set up -- the carrying of table and chairs out the the roadside (their "investment"), the designing, drawing, and coloring of a big sign to attract customers (a.k.a. their "marketing strategy"), and the mixing of -- or helping a parent to mix, and the level of parental involvement is of course directly proportional to said parent's tolerance for spillage -- lemonade (their actual product).

Once the setup is complete, however, reality sets in. Particularly for young entrepreneurs who have the misfortune of living on less-than-thoroughfares. The discovery that one's business idea is less glamorous and glorified than one originally imagined can be a difficult pill to swallow.

You can see, then, how you stopping can turn their day around. You are what every entrepreneur wants and needs: a customer! So. You have already made the kid's day just by stopping. But maybe you want to do more. Maybe you want to truly make a difference. Maybe you're the type who likes spreading goodwill and cheer everywhere you go. If you are, then read on to Rule #2:

Rule #2
Whatever the going rate is for a cup of lemonade (here in 2010, it's around 25 cents), pay ten times that. Never will the words "keep the change" mean more to a small business owner -- or to you. As you return to your vehicle or continue your walk (whatever you were doing before stopping), you'll hear small feet pounding up to the front door ("Mom, look!"). Your sense of satisfaction will be surprising -- even to those of you who are experienced cheer-spreaders. There is something about sipping lemonade you bought from a kid on the side of the road after overpaying. Take my word for it -- it's worth it.

New Station

2010-06-26T18:02:00.010-04:00

All my life I have wanted to live somewhere that had an incredible radio station. Growing up near two college stations, there were sporadic moments of radio greatness, but just as often they'd broadcast "Cats Screeching in the Night" or "Out-of-Tune Flutes Attempting to Shatter Glass" programs for hours on end.

I've lived near Public Radio stations that have had interesting news shows, Garrison Keillor's show on Saturday evenings, and the occasional folk or blues show, but classical music has been their main musical genre. And, don't get me wrong, I have nothing against classical; it's just that this is the year 2010 here, people. How about some music that came from this century?

Recently, however, I saw a guy riding his bike up the Main Street hill in Burlington. Dangling from his bike frame was a placard: "Farm Fresh 102.9." Hmmm, what's this?

Fresh is right. Farm Fresh Radio is broadcast from an actual farm in Bridport, Vermont. Their only commercials are brief, creative sketches done in their own studios or soft-spoken DJs plugging their sponsors. Their music lists generally include more songs and performers that I have not heard of then ones with which I'm familiar. Still, after most songs, I am left wondering who that was. Just as often, I never find out; there is so little chatter on the station that I have usually reached my destination by the time a DJ comes on to talk. If I had to come up with four words to describe their playlists, they'd be "bluesy," "bluegrassy," "Americana," and "gives-me-faith- that-there-is-still-a-universe-filled-with-great-new-music-out-there" (yes, hyphenated words count as one word, and if you don't agree, I make the rules on this blog.) In the last few minutes, they played Frankie Lee, Guy Davis, and Root Boy Slim 'n' the Sex Change Band featuring the Rootettes.

They are grassroots, word-of-mouth, and underground. The guy riding around advertising by bicycle fits perfectly with their message and mission. And don't count them out because they are new or because they are small. I have a feeling about Farm Fresh Radio 102.9. A feeling like they are about to take off. And that they're going to be here for a long, long time.

(Note: if you don't live in town, check 'em out at farmfreshradio.com. You can listen to them on-line and get their on-line playlist to find out who that last-musician-to-play-in-your-car-before-you reached-your-destination was.

Aiken Launches Website

2010-06-17T08:22:00.008-04:00

Mark Aiken's new website exploded into cyberspace this week. Not exploded in a bad way (like "crashed and burned"); rather it is up, running, and already making waves. Don't miss out on the excitement: the new site address is, of course, www.markaiken.com. Check it out! And please make sure to let us know if you have any issues (other than you are "wow'ed" out of your mind), try out the "contact us" form, and click on all of the different links.

In a related story, followers of AikenAction have surely noticed the overhaul of the blog's layout. The blog's creator is looking for feedback. Did you not even notice? Is the site more readable? Not enough color? Font too small? Better than ever?

These events are all part of a stronger representation on the Web, and so far, feedback has been nothing less than stupendous.

New Sport

2010-06-12T12:35:00.005-04:00

I have a new sport: it’s known as “Hosing.”

The only equipment necessary is a garden hose and a water-supply to hook it up to. Ideally, you would have a flowerbed or other receptacle to pour water into, but this is optional.

Here’s how the game works: first, walk into your yard with the running hose as if you have a purpose (the more purposeful you act, the better your results will be). Then start observing. I think you’ll find the results quite satisfying.

A less refined version of the sport has been called “neighbor-watching.” The guy across the road from me just put in a new driveway. Another guy operates a landscaping business from his home, and he spent a number of days planting a stand of trees between us (I probably needed to practice looking more purposeful), while up the road, a lady is putting siding on her new addition.

Another piece of optional equipment in Hosing is beer. I recommend cans for optimum efficiency. Take up this exciting new sport and get ready for hours of enjoyment.

Good Thing

2010-06-11T05:19:00.004-04:00

"Glad you made it. Celts in a war. Kobe is terrific. I hate him. But love you."

I know a good thing when I see it. I sent this text message recently when Alison, after a 3-hour late-night drive with some friends, sent me a text announcing they had arrived at their destination.

A good thing is a wife who, receiving the above text, recognizes that this is an expression of eternal love and devotion and that, given what I was in the middle of at the time, is a highly meaningful and caring gesture.

Go Celtics!

Unmet Goal

2010-06-09T17:54:00.007-04:00

This spring, I find myself in uncharted territory. For the first time in my running career, I didn't achieve a goal that I had set for myself. Actually, let's go back a few steps. It's not the first time I didn't meet a set goal; in my second marathon (the 2006 Vermont City Marathon), I failed to meet my goal of beating my time from my first VCM. The uncharted part is that this is the first time I CARED!

Why did I care? I don't really know, except that since that ill-fated 2006 marathon (for which the temperatures were in the 80s -- too hot to run 26.2 miles, that's for sure!), I have run personal bests in five consecutive marathons. So I guess you could say I wasn't accustomed to coming up short -- regardless of the effort I put in.

Was I surprised by the result at this spring's Vermont City? I can't say I was. I definitely didn't put in the time -- or the quality of -- training as I did for my last marathon. But I secretly hoped I wouldn't need to. This year's marathon wasn't as hot as the 2006 VCM, but it was deceptively warm. Still, I can't blame the weather when my training was so lackluster. So how do I respond?

I look no further than my spouse as a role model. Running the LaCrosse Marathon in Wisconsin, she missed the goal she set for herself by a minute. Then she was disappointed when the Mooseman Olympic-distance Triathlon (see photo) cancelled its swim portion due to weather. Alison wallowed in disappointment after both of these races for about a grand total of six minutes. After that, she was already on the lookout for other races to run -- in which she could meet her goals.

The lesson those of us goal-missers can take away? Regroup, refocus, and keep trying.

Alrighty, then. I'll look into running a fall marathon.

Amazing Athletes

2010-05-18T19:12:00.005-04:00

Ladies and Gentlemen, take a close look at this picture. It's as close as you may come in your lifetime to true greatness. Lauren, Coach Jan, Meg, Alison, Marty, Kristen, and Liza are just part of a team of elite athletes that is not only participating in a grueling three event race this June, they have also -- between them -- raised thousands of dollars in support of cancer research (speaking of which, don't forget Casino Night this Friday!).

But let's focus right now on this race. It's a swim, a bike, and a run. The swim takes place in Newfound Lake in New Hampshire, a lake, I'm sure that freezes solid in the winter and surely is fed at least in part by run-off. The race may be in June and they may be swimming in wetsuits. But, I'm sorry. Ladies and gentlemen, when the people pictured in this photo jump into Newfound Lake in a few weeks, they will be submerging themselves in, that's right...

...About twelve degrees!

Good luck, Team, and have fun. I'll be on the sidelines cheering -- and nowhere near that water!

New Skills

2010-05-12T16:17:00.007-04:00

It didn't take long: only a year-and-a-half of marriage and about four years of a relationship prior to that. But it is official... I now know how to make an omelette.

This is not a food blog, so you will not find a recipe or a list of how-to steps in this post. Besides, when it comes to omelettes, you almost need personal coaching -- there are subtleties in the craft like knowing how long to cook your eggs and how to keep them from sticking to the pan. In fact, if you don't have an omelette-maker to observe, or someone to give you that one-on-one attention, I suggest you stick with scrambled eggs. They taste similar, and you can add ingredients like onions, peppers, and cheese. You just don't get the, oh, so cool "look" of an omelette. Like when I make one.

My omelette mentor, of course, was my lovely wife. I will be the first to admit that she does a lot of things better than me -- a lot. I am going to put out the claim, however, that in the case of omelette-making, the student has become the master.

Pie

2010-05-10T18:27:00.009-04:00

Strawberry-Rhubarb pie, to be more specific. In fact, before I say another word, take a look below...

Here's the deal. I found the recipe at the GlutenFreeHomemaker.com. That's right... totally gluten, wheat, barley, rye free! So those of you out there cooking for the gluten-sensitive, this is a pie for you. Now, you can go to the Homemaker's website for her recipe (and I highly recommend that you do), but I, of course, like to improvise when I cook (ie I like to cut whatever corners are possible), so here's what I did:

1) The Homemaker leaves the crust up to you. I was dealing with a severe time shortage, so I bought a frozen gluten-free crust at the Natural Food store. Okay, not completely accurate. I called Alison and she picked up the crust at the Natural Food store. Okay, then, that's out there. Now, two things about the crust. One, I'm going to skip to the end and mention that if this pie had a weakness (and, mind you, it was a pretty damn good pie), it was the crust. Next time, I plan to do something different with the crust, whether it's from scratch or from a box, it won't be a frozen crust.

Anyway, the Homemaker calls for a 9-inch crust, which I confirmed mine was. (Note: it didn't say on the package what its dimensions were, but I confirmed the 9-inches with a 25-foot Stanley carpenters' tape measure.)

2) Whew! Finally, we're through Step 1. Sheesh!

3) The Homemaker calls for the following ingredients: 4 cups rhubarb (I used 1.5), 2 cups strawberries (I used 3), 1 cup sugar (yep), 1/4 cup corn starch, 1 tablespoon lemon juice (I used a quarter of a lemon and squeezed it), 1/2 cup sorghum flour, 3 tablespoons brown sugar, 2 tablespoon butter (I used 1). Also, the Homemaker abbreviates all her measurements like 4 c., 3Tbl, etc. You'll notice I don't do that. It's fricken confusing.

4) Wash and cut the rhubarb into slices that are 1/4 to 1/2 inch thick.

5) Wash and slice the strawberries.

6) Add sugar, corn starch, and lemon juice.

7) Toss to coat.

8) Let it sit while you get into step 9.

9) Prepare pie topping, which is sorghum flour and brown sugar with butter cut in.

10) Dump the fruit mixture into the pie crust, then sprinkle the topping on top (that's why they call it the topping, Einstein).

11) I like my recipe to jump out and bite your head off once in awhile.

12) Bake at 350 degrees for 50 minutes. One thing I learned afterwards from Alison is that I should have put a cookie sheet under my pie while it was baking. Now I have a pile of pie filling overflow at the bottom of my oven.

13) Here's the one mistake I made. I didn't trust the Homemaker and thought the topping looked too floury. So I didn't add it all. Until after I had baked the pie for 30 minutes. At that point, I took a peek (noticing, but ignoring the overflow on the bottom of the oven) and realized that it could use more topping. I added the rest, and unfortunately it just didn't really brown like the rest (see photo). Fortunately, the end result looked kind of funny, but it tasted fine. Like really fine. Bottom line: Add all the topping at the beginning like the recipe says, dufus. Don't think; just cook.

13) Finally, here's the genius: I doubled the measurements and made not one, but TWO pies. I brought one to a party and left it with them when I left (so they probably think I'm super-generous, I mean seriously, who would leave such an awesome pie? But unbeknownst to them, I had another whole pie waiting for me at home!

And that, folks, is the story of my first Strawberry-Rhubarb pie.

Attention Death Eaters!

2010-05-09T13:31:00.007-04:00

Okay, correction. This post is not actually intended for Death Eaters, the evil henchmen and followers of Lord Voldemort.

No, really, I am writing for the benefit of all the Death Racers out there. I am here to help you! Everyone knows that your event is coming up in less than two months. Nobody knows exactly what the Death Race will be like (the exact tasks and course are kept secret until the race is actually in progress), but wood splitting has been a task in the past.

Again this year, an axe is on the list of required tools that all Death Race participants must bring on race day, so one can only assume that you will be using it again in this year's event. So it makes sense that you'll want to be in good wood-splitting shape. And, you may want to experiment with different wood-splitting tools in order to figure which works best for your purposes (remember, in addition to using it in a task, you have to carry it throughout the entire course.

The two piles pictured above are ready to be split. Death Racers, come practice your wood-cutting skills on my piles! I am here for you. Think about it. This could be the difference between finishing and not finishing. Between 1st and 2nd, 32nd and 33rd, 128th out of 129! Let me know when you are ready to start swinging. No need to thank me... Beer, however, is provided during and after (good practice for those of you who intend to drink during the Race -- and for those who were under the influence when you registered for the Race). See you in the woodpile!

Casino Night!

2010-04-26T07:51:00.006-04:00

It's the event everyone is talking about: Alison Aiken's big fundraiser to benefit the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. Here's the deal:

As many readers of this blog (and Alison's fans) already know, Alison has spent the last several months training like a mad-woman for an Olympic distance triathlon -- the Mooseman -- to be held in Bristol, NH in June. She is participating with Team in Training and has pledged to raise $2800 in support of the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. While most mortals spent the winter huddled around heaters and woodstoves, Alison has been out getting herself in killer shape and at the same time raising money for cancer research, which, as we all know, continues to claim and affect lives every day. Thank goodness some people like Alison and her TnT teammates are out there doing something about it... thanks to her hard work and the generosity of many people who have already donated, she has raised $1800 so far. Wow.

As a final push to reach her fundraising goal, Alison has announced "Casino Night" at Casa Aiken on Friday, May 21 at 6pm. Tickets are $20. Tickets are good for entry, refreshments, and -- most importantly -- CHIPS! People will furiously participate in different card and dice games -- or, for those who don't like cards or dice -- ping pong! At the end of the evening, an accounting will take place. Those with the most chips at the end win crazy prizes from places like Evolution Physical Therapy and Yoga, PetraCliffs Climbing Center, On the Rise Bakery, Tuscano Cafe Bistro, Stowe Mountain Resort, Sonoma Station, Bolton Valley, Bridge Street Cafe, Al's French Fries, and many more to be announced.

I know what you are thinking. You are asking "How do I get a ticket!" Here's how:
1) Post a comment on this blog or email Alison regarding how many tickets you need.
2) Click here for Alison's TnT fundraising website to purchase your tickets -- $20 per ticket.
3) Tell all your friends!
4) Pick up your tickets, come to Casino Night, retrieve your chips, and start winning!

For now, join the rest of the world in wondering about the big questions: Will Alison pull out her Las Vegas showgirl outfit for the night? Will pit boss Mark rule the tables with an iron fist? Will Oscar the dog leave the refreshments alone? And, of course, the biggest question of all: who will be the big winner???

Contact Alison for questions about Casino Night!

Good News and Bad News

2010-04-19T09:53:00.004-04:00

I read an article someplace yesterday with bad news. It was about trash bags.

The good news here is that Alison and I are great about separating -- and reducing -- our garbage. Minimizing what you throw away is cheaper, it's better for the world, and it's just the right thing to do. So, at the moment, we separate out all of our glass, cardboard, paper, plastic, and aluminum. We also compost all of our food wastes. The composting probably makes the biggest impact: every avocado pit, banana peel, and apple core that would go to the dump now decomposes in our compost bin with our grass clippings (don't worry, we make strides to shrink our lawn every year!), leaves, shredded paper, and ashes and helps turn our garden into a fertile place for stuff to grow.

Here's the bad news. The article was about reusable trash bags. As I read, I thought about the trash I do bring to the dump. A small trash bag full probably every other week, I throw it in the dumpster before I drop the much larger crate of recycling stuff in the recycling dumpster. But I know where this is going. Soon I'll be emptying out my reusable trash bag and I'll be left with disgusting trash guck and juice which I'll have to wash out when I get home. Yuck.

Doing the right thing can be messy. And a pain. But we still do it.

Changing Seasons

2010-04-09T07:56:00.005-04:00

The seasons are changing. That's right: we have shifted from the season when I play hockey twice a week to the season when I only play once weekly. The next season, coming soon (and known in Vermont as "summer"), is a four-week period when I don't skate at all.

Meanwhile, the changing of the seasons don't always go smoothly, and that was the case this year with the twice-a-week to once-a-week passing. In the middle there were two tournaments during which I played much more than once or twice a week: the Hyde Cup and the Monty.

The Hyde Cup is Stowe's local hockey tourney, held at Stowe's own Jackson Arena. A grueling 8-team affair, the Hyde is about one thing and one thing only: beer. Yes, there was some hockey thrown in there, but teams have to know their strengths, and our team knew ours. And it had nothing to do with moving the puck.

Two weeks later, I found myself 2800 miles west, playing in the Monty -- Whitefish, Montana's version of the Hyde Cup. The Monty was just like the Hyde Cup, with one difference: the Monty is even more about the beer.

For those of you just tuning in, I think you may be starting to figure out what it is about hockey we love so much. Meanwhile, with the Monty and the Hyde behind us, we can welcome in a new season. Happy Spring, everyone!

Training Begins

2010-03-11T16:39:00.005-05:00

What's the best way to start training for an event? Talk about starting to train for the event! Or, in my case, write about the event. That's what I have done with my second Tuckerman Inferno, and you can read what I had to say in the latest issue of Vermont Sports magazine (click here).

I've been talking about the Inferno for months now -- and all the training I'm going to do this year. And I actually got quite a jump on the training by bringing my bike up to the house two weeks ago. Did I ride my bike, you ask? Uh, no. But I have definitely thought about it! Anyway, I finally got on the bike; after a 6-mile run with Oscar this morning, I rode on the stationary trainer for 45 minutes. How can I ride for that long without going anywhere, you wonder? Well, I actually went all over the place, including central Mexico, Leadville, Colorado, and to the bottom of the Mogollon Rim in Arizona. Okay, I didn't physically go there, but I read about all of them in Born to Run by Christopher McDougall. Yes, Chris G, I'm finally into it. And it's good; I could have biked another hour, it was so good. But I stopped; it was time for pancakes. So, Inferno, Vermont City Marathon, watch out. My training has begun (and, PS, the pancakes were excellent).

Tailpipe, Anyone?

2010-03-05T16:16:00.005-05:00

It was 1988. There I was, 17 years-old, driving up Route 7 in Colchester, Vermont in Old Betsy the 1977 red Jeep Wagoneer. On the roadside, was a dark, rusty pipe. "I wonder who lost their tailpipe," I wondered.

Upon closer inspection at home, however, I was alarmed to see that about 6 feet of tailpipe had rusted off of Betsy. The tailpipe was mine.

Fast forward 22 years. I am driving to the Dump with my dog. Over the sound of the radio, I hear a rattle -- the distinct sound of metal on asphalt. I pull over, and what is hanging off the truck? You guessed it!

Have I gone nowhere? Is there no escape? Will I forever be breaking down on roadsides, jump-starting my vehicles, and picking up car parts from curbs and shoulders? All I want is a little automotive stability in my life. And I really don't think that's asking so much.

Aiken Reaches Podium in "Lord of the Boards" Contest

2010-02-04T20:29:00.008-05:00

Mark Aiken brought home silver, placing second in the first-ever Stowe Ski & Ride School "Lord of the Boards" contest. The LOB, held in conjunction with the annual Ski & Ride School fun race, is a grueling 3-part event, combining times of 3 runs in a giant slalom course on snowboard, alpine skis, and telemark skis.

"It was a thrill," said an ecstatic Aiken, between sips of a replenishing fluid (aka a 16-ounce Pabst Blue Ribbon), "just to be a part of the inaugural event." In fact, the event seems sure to gain momentum in years to come. Ski School Director Dave Merriam was heard discussing plans for a Lord of the Boards trophy -- to contain ski, telemark, and snowboard parts. The prize is sure to be highly coveted -- right up there with the Stanley Cup and the Ski Bum Bowl -- in the future.

Regarding this year's second-place finish, Aiken seemed to downplay the fact that there were just two contestants. The big winner -- 2010's Lord of the Board -- was snowboarder Frank Wilcox, who was seen practicing his telemark turns on Gondolier prior to the event (and who put up surprisingly strong numbers in his ski runs). Analysts close to the event (and believe me the event was full of analysis... and trash talk) agreed that the keys to the contest are having a strong ski run, a strong snowboard run, and a strong telemark. The level of brain-power surrounding the event was as astounding as the skills and technique demonstrated by this year's field.

As for Aiken, he will certainly spend his off-season training harder than ever for 2011's LOB.

Aspiring Photographer

2010-01-22T13:25:00.022-05:00

Perry White [thanks for the correction, Sue] told Jimmy Olson, "A photographer always has his camera. A photographer eats with his camera. He sleeps with his camera."

I have been brushing up on my photography skills. For some, this might mean taking a class or maybe reading up about exposure, apperture, or shutter speed. Not me. I am mainly just working on the same thing as Jimmy Olson -- namely, having my camera with me when a photo opportunity presents itself.

Like today, for example. Alison, Oscar, and I went on another backcountry ski. All of a sudden we were in a cave of snow-covered tree-branches -- crystals glistening and occasional beams of sunlight coming through. It was other-worldly; Alison called it a tomb of blue and white (to keep the comic motif going, it was very much like Superman's Fortress of Solitude). I reached into my pack for the camera. But it wasn't there. That's right, I remembered, the camera battery had been dead that morning, so I left it home on the charger.

Yesterday, however, I was ready. One moment I was looking at a cloud (left), when, suddenly, the mountain emerged. And I was there with the camera to capture it. See, not so bad! In fact, I am such the photographer now, check out my next move. I had the perfect "couple's shot" -- Alison and me in front of the mountain! I could just hold the camera in front of us and snap the perfect shot. Beautiful!

Well, I guess there's no need to pat me on the back prematurely. The following are my attempts at self-portraits with a backdrop of Camel's Hump.

I guess I'll keep practicing.

No Thanks

2010-01-15T08:41:00.002-05:00

Listen to the latest "safety initiative” Vermont police are promoting. This winter, police are issuing a ticket and fine of $214 to every driver who goes off the road in bad weather.

Does this sound like a proactive approach? On top of all the stressful factors involved in bad weather driving – poor visibility, changing road conditions, snow flying from plows and other cars, other drivers – now we can also worry about not being able to afford to hit a patch of black ice or drive through an unexpected pile of slush.

Do you think every car that goes off the road ended up there because of excessive speeds? Or that every driver stuck in a snowbank got there because of negligence? Obviously not. Poop happens – particularly on the roads in bad weather.

I admit that there are people out there who drive ridiculously in snowy conditions. When they crash, don’t worry: the cost of the tow truck, their insurance deductible, and the mental trauma of the whole experience will more than teach them to slow down. A cop coming over and slapping a $214 fine on them (aka kicking them while they’re down) isn’t going to help. Neither is the fine they give me when that bad driver hits me – who was going slowly and carefully – and causes me to go off the road.

Is it because the police can’t afford flares? Listen, bill me for the flares if I crash. Otherwise, I don’t need the sort of “help” you are offering if I do wind up in a snowbank.

Life in Black and White

2010-01-08T18:55:00.018-05:00

I used to think that, when my parents and grandparents were kids, there were no colors. All of the TV footage of those times is in black-and-white. And all of the photographs of them as kids are black-and-white. It was therefore no big stretch to assume that the world was devoid of color in those days.

For a short time today, color left my world. On a backcountry ski trip this afternoon, I found myself surrounded by only two colors: white and grey. The above photo is a color shot. See what I mean? Snow was falling and the sky was grey. The ground was covered by a soft fluffy white blanket. And the trees appeared in various shades of grey. The only occasional shots of color I got were -- every now and then when my skis appeared above the fluff -- the small bright green graphics of my boards and an occasional flash of yellow when Oscar darted from tree to tree.

It felt like an old-time ski movie. No people, no colors, just the snow, the mountain, my dog, and me. There wasn't even much for sound, so it was like a silent movie. All I could hear was Oscar's bell, which was muted by snow. Everything was quiet, peaceful, and cold -- although I was sweating underneath on the way up. At the top, the sun attempted to show itself, but the ski remained white. I quickly removed my skins, put on my shell, sipped some water, and got ready for the descent.

Going down was fabulous. I skied the same area yesterday, and it was the best run of my season. Today was the same except that there were 3 or 4 inches of new snow, and it was still falling. So, despite the old-time format, the skiing was phenomenal -- just like in the old ski movies.

New Year Reflections

2010-01-02T06:11:00.002-05:00

When you supervise in the ski school at Stowe, you don't have much time at the end of the year for the holidays and for new year reflections. This year was just as busy as any year, with one difference: because of the way Christmas Eve, Christmas, and New Year's Day fell in relation to my days off, I didn't have to work any of those days. You think blue moons are rare? I wonder when we'll see that again!

Anyway, I did participate in some holiday traditions: boot league at the Bahrenburgs (see pic) and Christmas dinner at Poor Farm with my grandmother in attendance. And I got to go on a beautiful backcountry ski tour (at an undisclosed location -- except to tell you it was east of the Mississippi and west of England) with Ali, Oscar, Karen, and Grayson on New Year's Day. Everytime I get into the woods of Vermont, I am struck at how beautiful winter is.

Happy 2010!

Ornament Statistics

2009-12-17T08:16:00.010-05:00

4 -- number of ornaments that have fallen off Aiken tree
100 -- percentage of fallen orns. knocked down by Aiken animals
1 -- number of ornaments destroyed by Aiken animals (so far)
12 -- hours after initial hanging that ornament was destroyed.
0 -- number of ornaments knocked down by Scout the cat

Note: the ornament pictured above is not the one that was destroyed; it was constructed by Mark Aiken himself circa 1975. He displayed his artistic talent even back then.

Snow?

2009-11-21T22:00:00.005-05:00

One thing that is nice about seasonal work is the opportunity to shift gears and get involved in something new. This is what happens for me every spring and every fall. It keeps life interesting.

Two weeks ago, I re-started my job at Stowe. A small group of us have been working to get our areas cleaned, organized, set up, and ready for business. Now all we need is one thing: snow.

Which has been our only problem -- and it has some people feeling concerned, worried, befuddled, apprehensive, scared, confused... you name it, people are feeling it. It is November in Vermont, the ground is green and brown, and the temperature is 51! Very unseasonal.

But you don't have to worry. Everyone I know is doing snow dances. A snow dance, in case you don't know, is the same as a rain dance, only you shake your hips twice and drop the left shoulder in the middle. It's a subtle, but important, difference. Also, Lucie Keene resonated her crystal bowl for snow earlier this week. Which is to say, she cut out paper snowflakes, handed them out for people to write their wishes (everyone wished for some type of "freshies," "blizzards," or, simply, "snow, please!"). Then, she tossed the snowflake-wishes into this giant white bowl, rubbed it with her resonator, and it made this wild sound that made you feel like you were trekking near some Buddhist monastery in the Himalayas. If this doesn't make it snow, I don't know what will.

If you're still not convinced, listen to this. Snow Wakeman, long-time instructor at Stowe, recently visited her psychic. There, she learned that there will be a storm of historic proportions on December 31st of this year. "Stock up on food stuffs and propane," Wakeman advises. "Make sure your vehicles are outfitted with snow tires and, if possible, chains." The New Year's Eve blizzard of '09 is going to leave Vermont buried in mounds of white.

I can't wait.

Quality of Life Improvements

2009-11-06T08:38:00.003-05:00

In recent months, I have implemented two additions to my routine, and I feel that they have made significant positive impacts to my quality of life.

The first new addition -- and this one affects my daily regimen -- has been the use of "couzies" when I consume a beverage from an aluminum can. I have prior experience with couzies, but their use was limited mostly to fishing trips. Now, I rarely drink a cold beverage without one, and it has been a really nice change. No cold fingers from holding a soda or beer, no search for a coaster every time I want to set my beverage down... this has been a very positive development in my life.

The other new addition -- and this one is still in the early implementation stages -- is my new food processor. I say "new" because I only knew we had it for the last two months. I have been informed, however, that it has been part of the household gear pack for much longer. So far, all I know how to make in it is butternut squash/sweet potato soup. And boy is it good. One note about the processor from a QOL perspective: I don't love washing it. But when autumn hits in the Northeast, it sure is nice to settle into your chair with a big bowl of piping hot soup.

Festival 8

2009-11-03T09:20:00.032-05:00

Hands down, it was one of the 8 best Phish festivals of all time. Pictures say 1000 words, so I will take advantage of images in this post, since I there's no way I could possibly write it all. (Note: click on any photo to enlarge.)
Once we got the kitten out of the suitcase and our stuff packed, we flew to Las Vegas where Lisa Aiken -- equipped with camping equipment, food, and drinks for 3 people over 5 days -- picked us up and brought us to the concert site in Indio, California. We arrived at 4am. Of the three of us, Alison grabbed the most shut-eye -- about two hours. That first day, therefore, was a real marathon, but the evening's two sets of music were fabulous.

The next day was Halloween. The band upheld its Oct. 31st tradition of donning a "musical costume" which, this time, was the Rolling Stones' Exile on Main Street -- complete with a horn section and backup singers. The musical highlight of the whole weekend for me was "Lovin' Cup," which Phish has covered thousands of times so that its place is solidly established in the band's canon. But "Lovin' Cup" is also on Exile, so it came up during the Halloween set -- and the place, the band, and, most especially, the guest performers, just went crazy. Out of this world. Also out of this world were 30,000 costume-wearing Phishheads. I camped with a 1920s flapper and a hockey-playing pirate. I also met Jim Morrison, the entire gang from Scooby-Doo, the 1969 championship-winning Boston Celtics, Eve (from Adam and Eve), and about 15 Jon Fishmans. What a night!

In terms of the Festival, Phish took care of everything. Foremost, holding it in southern California enabled the band to provide a rain-free weekend -- very nearly a Phish first. Festival 8 also included a traffic-free entry, soft grass to camp on, clean Porta-Potties, clean and spacious showers (that's right -- Phishheads showered!), and a certified organic Farmer's Market (we enjoyed fresh strawberries and mandarins, and we made breakfast burritos from fresh eggs and peppers). Keeping with another festival tradition started at 2003's IT festival, Alison and I began each morning by running around the campgrounds. And in addition to the Halloween set, there was another Phish first: Sunday's noon-time Acoustic Set complete with free coffee and "8-shaped" donuts. Unfortunately, the line for the morning snacks was too long. Fortunately, the line where they were giving out free Phish Food Ben & Jerry's scoops was not long, so we went there instead.

I'm not going to lie. There were times leading up to the weekend that I wondered if I'm getting a little old to be taking off across the country to follow my favorite jamband. Well, I have to tell you: I had a great time. Since 1991 they have been my favorite for a reason. They put on the best show of any band out there... and they took care of every person who made the trip. Everything was perfect. Trey, Mike, Page, and Fish: thanks. Lisa, great driving and packing. Heather, thanks for looking after our house and animals while we were away. And in answer to the original question: I'd do it again in a second.

See you at "Festival 9"!

Music Update

2009-10-25T13:28:00.004-04:00

The sign below was sighted this week at the Lutheran Church in Indio, California near the site of next week's Festival 8 -- the most recent Phish festival. In case anyone was wondering about the band's status with "the higher ups." Meanwhile, the residents of Indio, who have grown accustomed to the "Phish people" already in town readying the site of 8 for the legions of phans who will be arriving this week, have taken to referring to the site as "Little Vermont." I'm sure everyone will be talking about 8 for years to come...

Poll

2009-10-22T07:20:00.003-04:00

I have had the same email address on AOL since Al Gore first invented the Internet. And there are advantages to never having changed your address: for example, people all know your address. There are also disadvantages, like my Inbox is full of spam. Also, if you are an AOL user, you know that, unless you are diligent about saving messages, you lose them after a few weeks. Also, AOL's address book is really not user-friendly.

So I'm looking to change my address. But here's the other disadvantage: all the cool new email names are taken! Like, markaiken@gmail.com is long-gone. I am looking for a new address that is simple and that people will remember.

So I'm taking a poll. Please leave your new email name suggestion in the "Comments" section of this post. If I use your suggestion, you will be recognized in a soon-to-be-posted segment of "AikenAction"!!! There's incentive if I've ever seen it. Now, get thinking!

Victoria Running Report

2009-10-22T06:57:00.010-04:00

In the words of Perry White, editor of the Daily Planet, a good photographer eats, drinks, and sleeps with his camera. They are never separated! Which, folks, is why I am not a good photographer, and it is why I have no real race-day photographs of October 11's Royal Victoria Marathon. I just never remember the camera! (The photo, incidentally, is of Ali and me at the ferry dock near Vancouver on our way to the marathon. We're so bad, we didn't even take any shots on the ferry!)

The marathon was the culmination of a summer of training. I can't speak for Ali, but it was the most focused marathon training I have ever done. I have always thought it would be nice to qualify for Boston even though I didn't really think it was a particularly realistic goal. But in my last marathon, I missed the qualifying time by 2 minutes. So I thought about what I could do to cut 2 minutes off my time. The answer: focus on pace. I trained just 3 days per week this summer: a long day, a tempo day, and a speed day. Alison ran with me every time, and, I'll say that without her, I definitely would have blown off some of the speed days at the Burlington High School track when it was 85 degrees. Also, she always ran with Oscar on the tempo days when I needed to run at a consistent pace. In short, I just couldn't have done it without her.

Ali also set the Boston qualifying time as her goal -- pretty ambitious, since it meant cutting 8 minutes off her personal best time. In the end, she just missed, but she ran her fastest marathon ever (her 5th PR in a row) by over 5 minutes -- nearly 40 minutes faster than her first marathon 7 years ago. I have a fast wife!

Victoria was billed as a flat course. I' wouldn't call it "hilly," but it was way more rolling than I expected. The course was beautiful -- 12 or so miles went along the Pacific with views of Washington's Mount Baker and the Olympic Mountains -- but it was crowded. A half-marathon and all marathoners who planned to run in over 5 hours went ahead of the rest of the marathoners. I found I had to constantly weave through people. Alison had trouble negotiating the water stops. Otherwise, it was a beautiful day. My race day strategy was to go out fast to build a cushion. I did this and, with 7 miles to go, realized that all I had to do to qualify was run 8-minute miles the rest of the way. Which I did, and I came in 3 minutes under my goal. I'm a little annoyed with myself now for not continuing at the fast pace I started with; but try to explain that to someone at mile 19 when the goal he set for the day is in reach by coasting. Oh well. I'll try for 3:10 next time.

John Gallagher was our host and trip planner -- and he also ran a great marathon, finishing in 3:45. He did a fabulous job choosing restaurants over the next five days in Victoria and Vancouver; despite running 26.2 miles, I gained 7 pounds on my vacation. Also present was Chris Gallagher, who didn't run because of a sore leg. But he provided plenty of moral support; in fact, he was the first one to join me at the bar after the race to watch the Patriots game.

We had a fabulous trip, and we really accomplished something while we were at it. It feels good to work at something all summer and to see results at the end. Now that we're home, we can officially call summer a wrap. It's time to tape up the hockey sticks and get out the ski equipment!

Friendship on Hold

2009-10-07T18:40:00.011-04:00

All is fair in love and football.

For three hours this Sunday, Mark Aiken will be forced to put on hold any friendships he has with fans of the Denver Broncos. Between the hours of 4pm and approximately 7pm, and wearing throwback uniforms from the Sixties (the Broncos duds are seriously ugly), the Broncos will play host to the New England Patriots.

Aiken's friendships aren't the only ones being placed on timeout Sunday. Denver head coach Josh McDaniel is a protege of Patriots coaching legend Bill Belichick, but don't expect to see Coach B getting all choked up when the Patriot defense stifles McDaniels' new offense. Sure, McDaniels learned alot from Bill -- who wouldn't? -- but let's not forget who's the master around here.

As soon as the game ends, all friends can return to amicability... depending on the outcome of the game. If Denver wins, I may not be able to be friends again until I feel better.

Go New England!

(And may the best team win.)

Death Racers Tackle Aiken Woodpile

2009-10-06T11:12:00.009-04:00

The Death Race, an extremely unappealing event (unless you find crawling under razor wire, digging up tree stumps, and running while carrying a bike frame appealing), is held in Pittsfield, Vermont in June. It's not an event I'm interested in; they don't even tell you what the events are until you arrive at the start. How would you even know how to train?

Two Death Racers, Neil and Andy, have answers to these training questions. And they involve wood-splitting, one of the events from last year's Death Race. When Neil and Andy heard I had a woodpile to split, they arrived pronto (see picture above, courtesy of Ruth Penfield). They tested various axes, mauls, wedges, and splitting tools, timed each other, and generally chopped and chopped and chopped and chopped. (Please don't anyone remind them they they don't even know if wood-splitting will even be one of the events this year...). On the other hand, it might not matter; at one point, Andy looked at their progress.

"It's incredibly satisfying," he said.

He thinks it's satisfying? He should try standing there watching two Death Racers chop their way through your woodpile. Now that's satisfaction.

The only problem with the experience was that, once I had splitters, I wound up doing all the stacking. As my dad will attest (and he would know; I stacked wood for him for like 12 years!), I have never liked stacking. I much prefer to split. Still, the Death Racers saved my back and lots of time. And if there's anyone else looking for "training" opportunities, please give me a call. I have the tools you need to train for your next Death Race.

(Photo below: getting there...)

Downtown 10K

2009-09-30T10:53:00.009-04:00

Mark Aiken high-fives an adoring fan
Photo by Jan Leja

I am pleased to report that Oscar has returned to the world of competitive racing. After a couple of bad experiences in organized race events -- after which he decided to limit his running to non-organized events -- he ran in Sunday's Downtown 10K and recorded a personal record of 47 minutes.

Here's the deal. I have been training pretty seriously for my upcoming marathon. I have trained for all prior marathons simply by going out and running with Oscar. It was a regimen that he loved, but that didn't do much for my chances at improving my marathon times. The fact that I have improved my times with almost every race is just dumb luck. However, when I missed the Boston Marathon qualifying time at last spring's VCM by 2 minutes, I decided I had to get serious. I took out my stopwatch and started doing speedwork and tempo runs this summer with Alison. The problem with timed runs is that they don't really make room for chasing squirrels, peeing on bushes, and sniffing the smells -- all pursuits that my prior training regimens DID allow for. The result: Oscar was not allowed to run with me as much this summer.

He already hates the fact that we don't take him when we run 13 or more miles on Sundays. So, knowing that Sunday was a 12-mile day, I knew we had to bring him even though we had registered for Susan Criscuolo's fundraising event. I figured if anyone gave us a hard time, I'd just sit out the race and run on my own with Oscar. We registered for the 9am race at 745. We asked Susan if she had a problem with Oscar running, which she did not. We ran 6 miles (we're marathon-training, remember?), and pulled up to the starting line with almost perfect timing.

Ali lined up with her usual people, but Oscar and I went all the way to the back; we didn't want to run the risk of getting tangled in the mass start. The gun sounded (actually some guy yelled "Ready, set, go!"), and Oscar and I waited for everyone -- and I mean everyone -- to get out of the way. Then we started.

Oscar, who usually runs at an 8-to-9-minute mile pace, was not waiting around this day. He charged along the entire way. Despite running prior to the 10K and stopping to sniff 2 dogs, drink from 3 puddles, and pee once, we passed about 80 people and ran the whole think in almost 7.5-minute miles. Now if Oscar had shown that he could keep up that sort of pace earlier, he could have come along for some of the tempo runs! I think his desire to stop and be distracted was superseded by his desire to lead. Oscar is not fond of being behind people when he runs.

Sunday's Downtown 10K replaced the popular Smokejack's 10K race that used to take runners up and down the streets of Burlington, but that disappeared when the restaurant closed its business a couple years ago. Sunday's event, organized by Susan Criscuolo and sponsored by Green Mountain Rehab and other local businesses, was a huge success as over 100 runners participated. The event raised over $3000 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

And I should also mention that, should I qualify for Boston, I intend to return to the more slackerly and dog-friendly training regimen of non-timed slow and easy runs.

Winter Prep '09-10

2009-09-10T15:11:00.004-04:00

The wood collection has begun.

Team PBR enters Fantasy Football 2009

2009-09-08T14:20:00.005-04:00

That's right, folks! In addition to my world domination of table tennis and cribbage, add Fantasy Football to the mix. I have joined Marty Courcelle's league -- an organization full of heavy hitters like Marty himself and the much-feared Lori Hennessey, just to name two. I have no idea how Fantasy Football works, what players are what, how games are scored, or -- except for a few members of the New England Patriots -- who even still plays in the National Football League.

Which, in my opinion, makes me one of the favorites to win the League. I know these Fantasy players. Watching 10 games at once every Sunday on the Directv Football Package. Keeping copious notes on all the players. Watching SportsCenter late at night to stay ahead of the curve. Subscribing to Chris Berman's Tweets to receive up-to-the-minute updates.

By contrast, I have no idea what I'm doing. And I like my chances. Go Team PBR!

Tomato Update

2009-09-01T10:21:00.003-04:00

At last report, the Aiken tomato patch had been ravaged by tomato blight. Sadly, this situation is still the case; we have had to throw away over 100 tomatoes and many plants. Still, we have salvaged enough tomatoes to make 2009 our best year yet for the juicy red vegetable/fruits.

We are disappointed, of course, to have to let go of our earlier visions of the canned tomatoes and sauces that we had planned to open up later this winter. Still, I have always felt -- and continue to feel -- that there is not much that can beat a garden-fresh tomato. The little orange "Sun Gold" cherry-sized tomatoes have been our cash crop this year -- just two plants yielded hundreds of these things, and they have livened up our salads (and I've eaten lots of them like grapes!). The medium-sized prudens variety -- which proved to be especially susceptible to the blight -- are a good all-purpose tomato. The black krims are a weird-looking tomato, but super juicy, and my favorite are the gigantic brandywines, which are simply made to be sliced up and put on a sandwich with turkey, Vermont cheddar, and cucumber slices. Yummm!

I'm glad I got to enjoy tomatoes from the garden this summer, but I'll look forward to next year. Hopefully then we'll get the tomato-landslide we were hoping for this year.

State Inspection

2009-08-29T15:56:00.005-04:00

I have reason to believe that my mechanic would have failed my vehicle had I brought it to him for my 2010 Vermont Vehicle Inspection. Obviously, I didn't wait around for the big "F" on the test; I went somewhere else. Where, I will add, I passed with flying colors.

Here's what happened. I mentioned a minor -- very minor -- issue I have been having with the car. Rather than deal with it by making a big repair now, I would rather wait until after the winter season. So I asked him to jury-rig it. Not only would they not jury-rig it, he said my car would fail the inspection unless I resolved the issue now. In other words, paid the big dollars now.

Half joking, I said, "I guess I shouldn't have told you about the problem before the inspection."

Not joking, he said, "Our diagnostician would have found it."

I bring three cars to this guy for all my repairs and for regular maintenance and oil changes. I didn't realize we were adversaries now!

"I'll call you back," I said.

When I picked my phone up again, my fingers somehow didn't dial the number of my mechanic. They instead dialed the number of the place where I bought my Honda used. Of course, I didn't mention the issue, and of course they didn't discover it. It was a minor issue! At an inspection, you make sure the thing is registered and insured, you check the lights, the horn, the brakes... you don't scour the vehicle and then fail it unless the owner fixes every tiny issue! In addition to my nice blue inspection sticker, the new guy also gave me the thanks-for-buying-your-car-from-us discount on an oil change.

And you won't believe what else. The owner of the dealership noticed my broken radio antenna. To be honest, I don't know if it came that way when I bought it or if it was snapped off afterwards. It didn't matter. The owner himself came out with a drill and drilled out the broken antenna. He re-threaded it and found an old antenna lying around the shop. "I hate not being able to get stations," he said. And the best part of the story? He did this free of charge.

Previously, I could only get two channels on my road. On my way to work each morning, I listened to the radio halfway, then had to switch to a CD or my iPod the rest of the way. Now, I get all the local stations no matter where I am. Thanks, new guys. My quality of life has just improved.

An Investment

2009-08-29T15:26:00.005-04:00

I'm here to tell you about the best investment I ever made: my Triple A membership. Specifically, the emergency roadside towing service. I am currently driving a 2002 Honda -- an extremely nice car, by my standards. But, let me tell you, when you have a history of driving the kind of quality cars I have driven in my life -- starting with Old Betsy, the 1978 Jeep Wagoneer on through to the Stealth (1986 Chevy Cavalier, hatchback, black, undetectable by modern radar methods, that is, if by "modern" you mean circa 1890), to the run of Subarus I drove, right up through my old plow truck -- you need free towing!

One time, my roommate got stuck in my driveway in Bolton (note: everyone I know got stuck in that driveway at one time or another...except for me). I borrowed my dad's pickup, but that didn't help. We couldn't just yank him, because on the downhill side was a giant boulder that would scratch the stuck vehicle. I called Triple A. A tow truck came within the hour, wrapped a cable around a big maple tree uphill from the vehicle (protecting the fragile tree with a section of garden hose) and pulled him up the hill where he could then drive out. Later that day, on my way to return the pickup, I locked the key in the truck. For the second time in one day, Triple A bailed me out. They broke into the truck in 94 seconds.

The latest towing was last Saturday when the fuel pump went on our plow truck. We were in town picking up a load of pallets. Fortunately, the spot where the truck died was 100 feet from the Fedex building, and next to their dumpster was another pile of pallets. Instead of feeling sorry for ourselves while we waited for the wrecker, we talked to a guy in the warehouse and got permission. Then we loaded up a few more good ones. Stay tuned to AikenAction for an update on what we're doing with pallets.

Anyway, my advice to you: get Triple A. I have been towed and rescued so many times, I'm thinking about opening my own towing service -- I've watched these guys operate theirs so many times, I already know how the things work. Problem with this idea is, what happens if one of my tow trucks breaks down?

Haha...not a problem. I'll just call Triple A.

Aliens Attack Aiken Tomato Patch!

2009-08-17T11:55:00.008-04:00

They came down in space ships and shot their little laser guns at all our tomato plants, leaving a path of destruction in their wake. Well, I'm not exactly sure if they were aliens, but they sure were destructive. In 24 hours, hundreds of leaves on our tomato plants, tens of unripe tomatoes, and at least one whole plant (probably 5 feet tall) were blighted.

It's known as "tomato blight," and apparently the unusually wet weather has caused it. It is some sort of fungus that gets in the soil and infects your plants. And once it does, it's wildly contagious, and it moves fast. The idea is to clip the infected areas and get rid of them as soon as possible. And then, because the spores already live in the soil, we're not supposed to plant tomatoes in exactly that spot next year either. Our plants had done so well up till then, it killed us to cut them up and throw parts away. What was heading towards being an epic year for tomatoes will still be our best ever, but it was sad. We have already harvested close to 100 sun gold small tomatoes, and a few black krims. The plant that was lost was a prudens variety (I believe our only prudens). We still have lots of green tomatoes on the vines, and hopefully they mature before the blight gets them too.

I'll be honest; I don't fully understand how the blight works. The UFO explanation works as well as any for me. So aliens, be warned. Come into our garden, and I'll be shooting to kill. Go spread your germy disease someplace else!

Sweat

2009-08-11T14:08:00.006-04:00

I have to ask why. It's 84 degrees Fahrenheit and the humidity is 94 percent. So why -- why -- as I look across my field do I see a guy jogging down my road? It is 2:08pm, the sun is glaring down from the height of its trajectory in the sky, and the guy looks like he is having no fun at all.

My hat goes off to him. I couldn't run right now.

Alison, Oscar, and I ran early this morning. Back then, it was only like 72-degrees with high humidity. Alison's hamstring was sore (which could have only been worse in the humidity), Oscar submerged himself up to his lips in Johnnie Brook when we got there, and I was covered in sticky, uncomfortable sweat. Why do we do it?

Well, it certainly felt good when it was over. And I certainly enjoy having an entire burrito at Mexicali Bar and Grill -- and not feeling guilty when I clean my plate. It will be a great feeling when we have great races in our next marathons. It will feel good when hockey starts back up in the fall and I'm not exhausted at the end of the first session. And it will be great next fall when we go out on some 45-degree day, hike out to cut up some firewood for the woodstove, and the work doesn't kill us.

Come to think of it, the run wasn't actually all that bad, and I've been feeling pretty good all day. Maybe this is that one really hot, really humid week Vermont gets every summer. If it is, we can be thankful it's not in the 90s this year. If it's really overwhelming, go sit by the lake or take a walk in the mountains -- it's always cooler there.

And in the meantime, maybe I'll grab my bike and ride up the road to check on that runner. He didn't look so good.

Bumper Stickers

2009-08-06T08:48:00.009-04:00

"Imagine Whirled Peas." "Not all Who Wander are Lost." "My Other Car is a Tractor."

I'm a big fan of stickers. One of life's blessings is pulling up to a red light when you're in traffic to find that you're behind one of those cars with 50 stickers crammed on its rear end. They make for nice reading. I hate to generalize, but I have noticed that most cars that have this are too small for all the stickers, and they are usually driven by hippies. Whatever... I like it.

I can't say I clutter my car with stickers. Water bottles, maybe. Notebooks, sure. But my car usually remains relatively sticker-free.

My plow truck is a different story. When I first got it, one simple sticker decorated its bumper: "Independents for Tarrant." Rich Tarrant was the former basketball player who ran as a Republican for Vermont's junior senate seat, but got demolished by incumbent Bernie Sanders. I guess there just weren't enough Independents supporting him. Anyway, the sticker was disintegrating from the weather and peeling, and one day the green sticker pictured above appeared over the Tarrant sticker: "Practice Random Acts of Gardening." (I'm not sure who put it there, but I suspect it was either my wife Alison, my dog Oscar, or Scout the cat.) Wherever it came from, I'm okay with it, as I'm a gardener now.

Today, a new sticker joins the Gardening one on the bumper. There was a time in my life when I looked down at country music. "I'll never listen to that... that country!" I said. Then, 5 years ago, Phish broke up. What's a Phishhead to do when his band stops playing? It was an evolution; nothing happened overnight. But in my search to fill the Phishy void, I started listening to WOKO, the local country channel. There's some good stuff on that station! So, when Phish got back together this year, I couldn't get tickets, because every show was selling out in minutes. Fine, I said. I bought 20th row seats to Brad Paisley's show at the Champlain Valley Fair. "Who needs Phish?" I said.

Well, WOKO is holding a contest. Listeners send a picture of their WOKO bumper sticker and their license plate number to the radio station. On August 25 and 26, the station reads off license plate numbers. Listeners then have 9 minutes to call the station to receive front row seats to Brad's concert.

I picked up my sticker and it's on the truck for everyone to see when I make my weekly dump run. I emailed it to the station. So please everyone, tune into WOKO 98.9 on your radios on August 26 and 27. If you hear my license plate read, call me. I only have 9 minutes to respond and collect my tickets. No offense to Phish, but I am looking forward to seeing Brad at the Fair. And I want those front row spots.

And of course, I have 20th row seats for anyone who tips me off that they just read my number. I hear they're great seats.

How To Talk To Cops

2009-07-28T12:50:00.006-04:00

This is not a political blog, but I can't help but add my comments to the many editorial remarks that have been made following President Obama's reaction to the arrest of Harvard professor and historian Henry Louis Gates.

I feel that those who have discussed this issue (if you can really call it an "issue"), have really missed the boat. It's all about how you talk to people -- how Professor Gates talked to the cops that came to his door, and how the Press treated the President's reaction.

1) Some guidance for Professor Gates: Rule Number One, Professor, is don't antagonize them... unless you already know you're getting ticketed/arrested/written up. All reports about the Gates incident -- including Gates' own account -- indicate that Gates began talking back and being rude before they cuffed him. In my older and wiser years, I have found that being nice gets much better results. Like, for example, one time I got pulled over for running a red light. (For the record, it was definitely yellow... and I was in a rush.) However, I didn't get into that discussion. Instead, I apologized, promised I would be more careful, and was completely polite and respectful. The officer let me off with a warning. See, Professor? Don't be a jerk! Of course they dragged you in.

2) A president of the United States told the people what he thought. Then we roasted him for it. Thanks a lot, Media and Press types! Don't expect him to ever give us a straight answer again. And that's what it was: "Sounds stupid to me," was basically Obama's remark. But I'm sure he's learned his lesson; long-winded, circular answers get much better results from our Press than straight answers. It's a bummer. Regardless what you think of his policies, he was a straight-shooter. Mr. President, if you're out there reading this, take note. I appreciated your honesty. Sorry you got dragged through the ringer because of it. There was a recent comment on a radio show that asked a question. "If the President and Sgt Crowley (the policeman who arrested Gates) have made up and moved on -- and they seem to have -- can our Press?" Get on with your lives, people! Please!

25th Colchester Triathlon

2009-07-27T13:04:00.022-04:00

I am sure that everyone made note of this weekend's significant event in sports history: it was the 25th running of the Colchester Triathlon.
I have lost count of how many Colchesters I have run. I did not participate during the event's inaugural year (I had never heard of a triathlon at that point), but I was there for the 2nd year as a 13-year-old ironman (that's what we called people who did the entire half-mile swim, 12.6-mile bike, and 3.5-mile run). I crashed my bike at Mile 1 that year, got up, and finished, covered in blood. With a first experience like that, it's surprising that I returned the following year.

But I did, and I'm thinking that I have run about 16 Colchesters. Some years I trained more than others (and some I didn't train at all). One year I participated on a team. One year, my gear bag got caught in my bike spokes (a bike on loan from Leigh Mallory) and I crashed on the way to the start. I got up from that crash too, but my helmet was cracked and the bike broke, so I never raced. I did, however, do the entire course later that day with a very sore shoulder and a wicked headache. Most years, however, things went -- thankfully -- uneventfully, like Sunday: a fast swim, a solid bike, and a quick 5K to finish feeling good with a respectable time.

I saw some familiar faces Sunday: Leighmo, as always, directing the whole event, Anita Dayvies, serving as head timer for the 25th year, Dave Bahrenburg, heckling runners -- I mean, doing the announcing -- Diane B. timing, Mr. Pecor all over the course doing everything, and, of course, Kathy Baumann, Amy Baumann, and Judy Robinson running the refreshment table as they have every year of the 25 year-old event.

Another face that is becoming familiar to the Colchester crowd is Alison Aiken, who returned for this 25th anniversary year after putting in some serious training in the off-season, particlularly in the water. I was worried that the heat and a little chop in the lake could conspire against her, but no. She kicked booty! No "leisurely finish" this year, was there Dave?

Sunday's Colchester Triathlon was every bit as exciting as ever. It's a great community event, run by the best organizers ever. Can't wait to do it again next year!

A Call For Help!

2009-07-20T09:56:00.005-04:00

You may notice a new feature at the lower right-hand corner of "AikenAction" -- my new hit counter. It's designed to tell me how many visits this site receives. But since its installation, it seems to be stuck at one hit. I guess I'm the only person who ever checked out this site, and, apparently, I only ever visited once.

I need your help! When you next visit AikenAction (ie now), please click the "Comment" button at the bottom of this post. Enter the date and time of your visit. Hypothetically, the counter will register your visit. If it doesn't, I will have your comment and I'll know my shiny new counter is stuck -- or worse, defective.

Or worse than that, I don't know how to turn it on.

A Deadline and a Visit

2009-07-17T16:30:00.012-04:00

Nothing gets things done like a deadline.

On another, however closely related note, our house in Richmond was in disarray last Saturday. We had just stayed at the Aiken Camp in North Hero for 8 days, and the lawn -- as a result -- was a hayfield and the gardens weedbeds. All of our stuff was strewn haphazardly around the house in heaps -- duffel bags, laundry baskets, water jugs, bike gear, cat carriers, a round carpet from the camp that Jill had replaced with an ungrade, and a cooler.

And we were expecting company at 10:45am. There's your deadline.

Let me tell you, Alison and I sprang into action. By 10:44am, the grass was cut, the gardens tidied up, and the house organized. I even went out to Richmond's On the Rise Bakery to pick up bagels and other assorted morning goodies. When our company arrived, we acted like the house and grounds always looked this way and nothing out of the ordinary had transpired that morning. I'm pretty sure we had them fooled.

The company, incidentally, was my grandmother Caroline G. Aiken, my Uncle Dave Robinson, and my Aunt Judy Robinson. The Robinsons were visiting from Atlanta, Georgia, and they were on a tight social calendar with a schedule not unlike the US President's recent visits to Russia, Africa, and the Middle East. We were very excited that they could fit Richmond in.

We snacked for awhile in the front room admiring the view and catching up. Then we walked around and checked out the gardens (see photo above, provided by Aunt Judy). I received some very positive feedback about the vegetable garden: my grandmother -- a prolific vegetable gardener from Springfield, Vermont -- called it "perfect." My Aunt Judy, an expert in all matters of plants and flowers, informed me as to what flowers we have in the flowerbeds (I have no idea what's in there as I can't even tell the difference between a flower and a weed). The problem, however, was that she rattled off the names and types so quickly, all I remember was "primroses" and, unfortunately, didn't retain which ones those were. And before I was able to ask for clarification, my Uncle Dave -- like the Secret Service -- whisked them both into the car and onto their next stop (which, I believe, was lunch at cousin Suzie Shattuck's). Now I know how the smaller nations of the world feel.

It was a really nice visit. Next time, though, I'm going to have a notebook and pencil ready. And I may just skip the snacks and bring my aunt right out to the flowerbed. I need to know what I'm supposed to keep and what needs to be thrown away.

Article in Livin' Magazine

2009-07-13T09:00:00.004-04:00

Pick up the latest issue of Livin' the Vermont Way magazine in order to see my most recent article about the effect that college students have on local economies. Or read it online here at Livin's website.

After the article's deadline, one of my sources, Amy McGlashan, director of the Vermont Campus Compact, who had been on vacation, came back with some interesting data. Check it out: according to a survey by the National Campus Compact, 46% of Vermont college students volunteer an average of 96 hours in their schools' communities. That comes to over 2 million volunteer hours -- valued by the organization at $46.6 million. Those hard numbers indicate quite a contribution! Bummer that we couldn't get that info into the article.

But cool that Livin' continues to print a wide range of articles spanning a broad political spectrum. Keep it up Livin'!