I’ve interrupted my self-imposed, unintentional blogging hiatus to re-bring you what you really should not have been missing:

A return to “what I did yesterday.”

So, let’s see... by the time you read this, it’ll be not today, so my ‘yesterday’ is right now.

Today... er, yesterday... I got tossed about on the waves at work and left not feeling like I accomplished anything. As a pick-me-up, I left a few minutes early to get some time in on my fancy bicycle before the sun went down.

I always feel better after riding. If I don’t ride for awhile, I start to miss it. My knees and legs start to ache from inactivity, and I start going a little stir crazy. As I'm in my car or walking down the street, I wistfully watch other cyclist pass me, wishing I could be where they are.

When the exception of the “ache from inactivity,” I used to have the same reaction to a lack of TV and corn chips. Used to.

After I got home from the ride, and while I’m feeling all full of myself, a friend stops by and suggests that I need to date more.

Talk about a buzz killer.

Other hikes I am just now getting around to mentioning:

Stewart Mountain -- Stewart is the ridge that keeps sea-level Bellingham from having unobstructed Mount Baker views. The land is owned/maintained/whatever by a logging company and, presumably, the power company (what with all of the power lines going up, though, and over the hills there).

I followed the logging/access road that heads up the hill from the parking lot at the North Lake Whatcom Park. (Don’t follow the trail directions in the link unless you really want leisurely stroll along the waterside). Walk around the gate and follow the road up the hill. And up. No joke about the ups. The first two miles are killer. At any time you can turn and see views of Lake Whatcom and some peak-a-boo views of Bellingham (trees and power lines may obstruct your view). Eventually the road winds back in through the trees and levels slightly. When you reach the crossroads, go straight (and under the power lines) another mile or so until you reach a Y in the road. Go left. Go up. Stop when you can look down on Acme and out to Mount Baker.

If you go: you’ll be spending a lot of time walking through clear cut, so you may be exposed to a lot of sun. I don't have all of my facts and figures... there may be anywhere from 2000ft to 3000ft elevation gain. Whatever it is,

Oyster Dome -- There are a number of different trailheads for this hike. The hard trail starts down on Chuckanut Drive and zigzags up the hill. The less hard one (the one I prefer) starts on Blanchard Mountain at a parking lot that is also a launching area for hang gliders.

The Bat Caves are the coolest. You can scramble around on top of the rocks or, if you brought a flashlight or head lamp, explore some of the caves created when all of the rocks fell. Careful if it's wet, though.

Instead of my rambling on about it, check out this article from the Seattle-PI. The article is 8 years old, but it's still good.

I’m turning my snark mode off for this one. Mostly.

Last weekend Erland, Ben, and I hiked to Hannegan Peak (Forest Service, Hiker Bob, Green Trails #14 Mt Shuksan).

The hike begins at the end of Hannegan Pass Rd and follows Ruth Creek before the trail climbs a total of 2000 feet to Hannegan Pass. The first 3 miles is a gradual incline, but the 4th mile to the Pass is at least an 1000-ft elevation gain. The next mile to the peak is also 1000 vertical feet.

At 6100 feet, the views up there are pretty cool. Canadian mountains to the north; full view of the Cascades to the west; Ruth Mountain “right there”, and Shuksan and Baker peaking out behind the Nooksack Ridge to our south. And there are a few patches of snow, even at the the beginning of September.

Our target was to be back to Bellingham by noon, but we (ahem... I) totally underestimated how long that distance and elevation gain would take. Plus we spent at least 45 minutes at Hannegan Peak just sitting there.

If you go, prepare for a long day. In fact, many people backpack this trail through Hannegan Pass and on to Copper Mountain or through Whatcom Pass. This being Labor Day weekend, we saw our share of both day hikers and backpackers (55 people, 5 dogs, 5 horses).

Hot tip: there’s a great campsite up near Hannegan Peak. That is, there’s a level spot, it has a great view, and there are a few trees that might offer at least a little bit of protection. However, the closest water is, um, not close. Bring lots.

I love football.

No, really. It’s a game I really love. I’ve skipped church for it; I’ve cut phone calls short because of it. I once held back my bladder's natural urges for nearly an entire half because the game was not worth leaving (but that was before TiVo).

I never played it, though, except in backyards. And I still have a hard time with some of the football-ese. But the grit, determination, and perseverance it requires to win a game in the NFL or even in the college ranks is amazing. You can’t just show up and win. You need to prepare, practice, and execute. <donald-miller-mode>It’s a metaphor for life, really.</donald-miller-mode>

Because of my admiration for this game, I can instantly connect with any other football geek/fantasy football player if ever our paths meet. Start with the ice breaker, “So who went first in your draft?” and I’ve got a friend for life.

Sometimes, though, even I can’t take some of the goofiness. The rest of this is an open letter to that guy at the pub who was constantly using first person plural pronouns when referring to the Seahawks:

Hey, dude. You’re a pretty excited fan, huh? Yeah, the team looks pretty good this year. Hope those receivers can hold up. Yup, the first game is at Detroit. I’ll put 5 bucks on that, sure, even though the Lions are starting Kitna.

Oh, what was that? Did you say “we”? “We drove down and scored...”? “We pulled that game out at the end...”? “And when we went to the Super Bowl...”?

You own season tickets, huh? Oh, right... your dad does... riiiiight. So I can see that this game is important to you. You get excited, you cheer the team on, you rejoice when they score, you complain when something goes wrong. Cool. Do that. All that.

But, dude... Puh-lease. You don’t play. You don't coach. You don't clean out the lockers of the cut players. You don’t get tackled, you don’t commit penalties, you don’t score touchdowns. You watch. You. Don’t. Play.

Do not think for one minute that you can assume that you’re part of the team. The city doesn’t own the team, your daddy doesn’t own the team, and you don’t know any of the players. Hasselbeck does not send you Christmas cards. You don’t go to church with Alexander. You didn’t even send flowers to Jackson after his last surgery. You are an outsider. A stranger. They don’t know you. And if it weren’t for your credit card, the team wouldn’t care about you.
 
They are them. You are you. “We” is a term best left to Green Bay Packer fan. If you continue to use it injudiciously, the next thing you know you’re going to blame the refs, the other team, and/or the other team’s public address announcer for the crummy things that your stinky team commits on or off the field.

So here’s your charge in a nutshell: Don’t act like you’re from Wisconsin.

And if you are, Bummer. We all have our own cross to bear.