Warning! Wanderlust Adventure Ahead

practicing yoga in tree pose near a pond for WanderlustWhen my daughter, Courtney, asked if I’d be interested in going to Wanderlust, I said, “Sure!” I’m always up for traveling, but had no idea what she was talking about. Last week, she sent me a video of a class we’ll be taking. I laughed until I cried.

I hope no one gets hurt…

Wanderlust – Whistler 2016, is a four-day yoga festival that includes everything from the obvious, (yoga) and meditation to paddle-boarding, hiking and rocking out to DJs at night. I signed up. After all this isn’t my first yoga rodeo.

In seventh grade, I took a class as an elective at Our Lady Queen of Peace. I was hooked. I loved the relaxed atmosphere and how it slowed my active mind. I continued my interest through college. For a few years after having kids, I took a class poolside at a beautifully landscaped Boulder home. When the sessions became more aerobic than meditative, I dropped out.

It has been a few years since I’ve really been into yoga. With wrist and knee issues, I recently attended a few classes in Boulder to test my body. With a pad under my knees, I could do everything, in restorative, gentle yoga, anyway.

I thought I was good to go.

Courtney instructed me to sign up for all of the classes on her schedule, so I blindly clicked away. Last week, she sent me an email and asked if I had read the class descriptions. Of course not. I rarely read instructions.

One of the classes we’re taking is Acrovinyasa. She sent this video and I laughed until I cried.

We’ll be partners. I assume I’ll be on the bottom. I just watched the video again and it still cracks me up. Think of me spinning around like a top next Thursday. Ha! Still laughing.

My husband, Danny, is coming with us. His yoga themed bad dad jokes have been hitting me in waves. He is running two 5Ks as part of the event and will go on a hike, but he also signed up for a couple of yoga classes. There is hope. I think I’ll buy him that guy’s bandana. Could be a good look for him since he’s planning on walking around town with a cross-body yoga mat and a water bottle. Ha!

I’m really looking forward to the classes, especially the ones involving positivity and opening up the mind to creativity. I truly believe writers, musicians, and artists get into a creative flow that seems to come out of nowhere. It’s why I write with a vague idea of my plot points and could never use an outline. Whenever I concretely think about what should happen next in my book, I go into “deer in the headlights.” Instead, I imagine the characters and setting, and the scene rolls in my head like a movie.

Wanderlust should be a mind bender. I hope my body bends too. I can’t afford any breakage.

Don’t worry, Courtney and Danny will take lots of pictures. Remember, I have no shame.

More Wild Rider adventures.

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Are you into yoga? Have you been to Whistler or Vancouver? Is Acroyoga for you?

Solid Gold Summer Sunsets and What Lies Beneath

Solid gold summer sunset at Malibu Beach

There is nothing more breathtaking than a solid gold summer sunset. Malibu Beach provided an amazing foreground for an unforgettable night. As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, I left my seat in The Sunset Restaurant, kicked off my shoes and snapped a few photos.

Solid gold summer sunset in Malibu

It was one of those magical nights when the color glinted off the waves. That’s when I noticed a few heads bobbing in the ocean. Wasn’t it feeding time?

Golden sunset at Malibu Beach

It made me think of a year ago when I watched another beach …on a movie screen.

Da dum.

Da dum.

Da dum.

Dadumdadumdadumdadum… Jaws at the pool. What a blast, but it freaked swimmers out. Soon very few heads bobbed in the water while watching the film.

jaws at the pool

I spoke with my mom while on my epic road trip. When I mentioned my son, Kelly, was surfing, she expressed concern about a rash of shark attacks. After some surfing of my own, I learned less than 1 shark death a year occurs in the United States and an average of 19 bites. I couldn’t find any news about shark attacks. Then I had a thought.

IT WAS SHARK WEEK!

Have you been enjoying the summer sunsets? Have you watched Jaws? Would you go swimming in the ocean at sunset?

Click here for more Wild Adventures!

The Epic Road Trip Continues

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We were on an epic road trip. The gap between our car and our son’s began to close. He and his posse had an earlier start and were a couple hours ahead, but pulling a trailer has its way of slowing a car down. They were only 25 miles ahead.

We could catch up.

We watched for Uhauls while driving 85 MPH. Then I made a call. We had passed Kelly’s girlfriend! She had pulled over at mile marker 91 and filled up at an Arco station. We were already in the 70s. Whoa! We couldn’t believe it. Kelly and his friend, who would be his roommate in Burbank, had flown down the road, ahead of us by thirty minutes.

We missed them.

Dang.

Then we learned they would take a pit stop before heading to California. There was still a chance.

We hoped to meet them….

Viva la road trip

in a truly Wild place.

the strip

A place where all kinds of epic adventures happen.

cool architecture

Las Vegas.

We wound our way through a casino. They were in another building.

The Hard Rock Cafe

We headed back into the 112 degree heat and ducked inside the Paris.

We found him!

image

Vegas is crazy. I made a list of my sensory overload, but it was waaaaaay too long. After a night at The Luxor, we hit the road again.

I had forgotten about Area 51 and its proximity to Las Vegas… That would explain everything.

There’s a lot more to come on our epic road trip. It has just begun…

Epic Road Trip

a photo from the car window rock fiormationsI’m writing my 501st post in my car. Don’t worry, I’m not driving. Danny has both hands on the wheel, but he’s going 85 MPH in the right lane. I know! I’ve always called him an old man with a hat, but he’s cruising today. The speed limit is 80. I love it!

We’re in a race.

Our son and his posse are ahead of us in an epic road trip. They got an early start. They’ve been pulling a Uhaul for 600 miles and we’ve cut the distance between us from 120 down to 25. I think we’re going to catch him tonight.

85  MPH
If we do, can you guess where?

I’ll keep you updated. Our road trip has already become a Wild Ride…

Ready for a Wild Ride?

road tripping across the west

I’m ready. My bags are packed and the drinks are on ice. Soon, I’ll be on the road. My husband, Danny, and I will travel almost thousand miles in two days. We’ve driven more miles in less time, but plan to stop along the way.

What kind of adventures are ahead? There will be quite a few. Follow my wild ride over the next week, and you can tag along!

This is my 500th post. Woohoo! That’s a lot of Wild Rides…

Do you plan to take any road trips this summer? Where would you like to go? Any tips you’d like to share?

On Lockdown with Shia LaBeouf #TAKEMEANYWHERE

 

Lockdown from a window inside the Boulder Museum of Contemporary ArtShia LaBeouf and I hung out last Sunday.

The afternoon stretched to more than three hours when two shootings occurred right outside the Boulder Museum of Contemporary Art. I thought it was some rude person tapping on the wall. Nope. Police crime taped the area and placed everyone in the building on lockdown. Most of us were pretty oblivious.

My interest in Shia’s talk began when local newspapers reported tweets of GPS coordinates for his next art installation, #TAKEMEANYWHERE. I checked it out. Using Google Earth, each photo depicted roads, intersections or land formations. Every day at noon, I checked out his tweet with the latest. Yesterday’s was 41°09’30″N 104°39’32″W. It was very cool. I was hooked.

If you thought Shia LaBeouf had a nervous breakdown, think again.

The team of LaBeouf, Nastja Ronkko, and Luke Turner have been constructing art installations for two years. They spoke at MediaLive – Corruption, after a week of installations by other artists at the Boulder Museum of Contemporary Art.

Shia LaBeouf and Susie Lindau at the Boulder Museum of Contemporary Art

They would like to add sincerity to communication in a way that makes you think, emote, and change your perception of the world in some way.

Transparency is their other goal.

Everyone is treated equally. They don’t give their friends or family a heads up about their latest art installations. Everyone finds out at the same time on Twitter. Instead of working in a bubble, the audience becomes a key element in their work. They have no expectations. Shia LaBeouf’s handle is @thecampaignbook. That’s where you can catch up with their latest installation and you could become a part of it, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

The talk included very revealing remarks from LaBeouf.

With an animated and extroverted personality, like yours truly, he talked about growing up in Los Angeles in a black section of town where he got beat up a lot. It didn’t help that the “Chia” Pet was popular when he was a kid. You can imagine. He claims that he is pretty uneducated and went into acting to survive. His father is a blue-collar worker and doesn’t believe acting is anything more than a hobby. He has never seen any of his movies. I’ve rarely heard anyone talk so openly. That’s sincerity.

Remember when Shia wore a paper bag over his head?

“I’m sorry. I’m not famous anymore.” Everyone, including me, thought it was a cry for help. Nope. It was one of the group’s collaborative events and his reaction to being busted by Daniel Clowes. You see, LaBeouf used Clowes’ screenplay and made a short film without citing him. Then he won an award at Cannes. “I fucked up,” Shia said, several times. Wearing the paper bag was his apology. Clowes reacted with a Cease and Desist.

I'm not famous anymore bag worn by LaBeouf in slide show at talk in Boulder

The team rented a room. Curious people waited for hours to speak to Shia. He didn’t say anything, but he did cry on occasion showing that you can still be a man and show emotion after doing something regrettably stupid. It made me think about how most of us react when making mistakes. That took courage.

#TOUCHMYSOUL

I perused LaBeouf’s site called The Campaign Book. They have orchestrated several artistic media events in the last two years. One of my favorites took place in an art gallery. The team wore headsets and sat in front of laptops. They asked people through social media to #TouchMySoul and took calls, broadcasting them inside the room while spectators looked on. One of the people who called hadn’t spoken to anyone in weeks.

Another call was from a man upset at Labeouf for misusing his fame. He felt he should head up a cause to aid people instead.

LeBeouf, Ronkko and Turner #Touchmysoul

After his rant, Shia asked, “Do you think people need to be listened to?”

“Ah, of course they do.”

“And what do you think is going on here?”

“You’re listening to me.”

“Have a good day.” Shia ended the call.

Boom. That’s what connection is all about. We need to be listened to. That’s why so many are addicted to social media. The likes, adds, or whatever the interaction, boosts endorphins because of those connections. That’s not a bad thing.

Susie Lindau with Luke Turner and Danny Lindau

Danny and me with Luke Turner.

How can we become more sincere?

By really listening. Shia thinks everyone has a right to disagree too. It’s all a part of the exchange. The bottom line? Keep reaching out to communicate.

Another favorite of mine is #STARTCREATING. They had it written in the sky and then recorded#start creating sky written people’s reaction.

After the talk, I asked Shia if his “very sincere public apology” helped him to forgive himself and if the healing process was helped or hurt by it.

He said, “It definitely helped.”

#TAKEMEANYWHERE

Those GPS coordinates spelled out #TAKEMEANYWHERE. The team was commissioned by The Boulder Museum of Contemporary Art and The Finnish Institute in London and will travel from May 23rd to June 23rd.

LaBeouf, Ronnko, Turner GPS Google Earth #TAKEMEANYWHERE

That’s an E.

Each day at noon they will tweet their GPS coordinates. Whoever picks them up first can take them anywhere. The first day, they were near Estes Park. The first person to arrive drove them to Oscar Blues in Longmont. The next day, they tweeted a location north of Fort Collins. The last time I checked, they were in Nebraska. 41°09’50″N 96°08’15″W

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LaBeouf, Ronkko and Turner use social media to hitchhike across the US.

Check it out. Maybe they’ll hitch a ride with you! I once hitchhiked in a very unconventional way.

Nastja Sade Ronkko and Susie Lindau at BMoCA

A selfie with Nastja Ronkko.

Shia still conversed with people after the museum’s doors reopened and we were free to go. He answered questions, had pictures taken and signed autographs. He was patient, relaxed, and took his time with each person even though there was always a crowd pressing in around him.

What about the lockdown?

Boulder Museum of Contemporary Art

Apparently, some crazy dude fired several shots into the Boulder Creek outside the Public Library. Then he aimed at police so they shot him. Minutes later, more shots were fired outside the museum. They haven’t found that shooter yet. How weird was it that we were inside celebrating positive communication while crazy maniacs shot guns right outside? Since we were on lockdown, we had more time to communicate. Bonus!

The Campaign Book site. Be sure to click on hashtags to check out their installations.

@CampaignBook on Twitter

#TAKEMEANYWHERE.vice.com

Click on my home page for more Wild Adventures 

Twitter – @susielindau

Did this surprise you or did you know about Shia’s art?

A “Tail” of a Whale Adventure in Three Acts

ACT I

Last Friday, a monstrous spring snowstorm promised downed powerlines and trashed landscaping in Colorado. My husband, Danny, and I shrugged and headed up to the mountains. We looked forward to tremendous ski conditions and assumed we would share the highway with many others. Forecasters predicted snow in feet.

Funny thing. As we merged onto I-70 in Golden, our daughter, Courtney, called on her way home from work. She had to pack and pick up a friend before driving up to meet us in Breckenridge.

As expected, we got stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic. One mere mile outside of Georgetown, we came to a dead halt. CDOT had closed the highway hours earlier because of “hazardous driving conditions,” but we had ignored all the warning signs.

I-70 in snowstorm

Then Courtney called. She had just started on I-70. I suggested taking the frontage road to Georgetown instead of the crowded highway.

An hour later, we started to inch forward. As we passed Georgetown, Danny said, “I think we just passed Courtney’s car.

They ended up right behind us. No lie.

ACT II

It’s been over a year since my partial knee replacement. Before going under the crazy laser scalpel, that is Makoplasty, to replace messed up bone and cartilage, I could only ski two, maybe three runs before calling it a day. Since surgery, I’ve been careful.

Peak 7

 

The dump of snow proved to be heavenly for skiers and snowboarders. Saturday, I sailed through fifteen inches of ice cream snow in Breckenridge and took NINE runs. Courtney and I quit before exhaustion caused a crash and burn scenario. She had a business trip in Utah the next day.

snowboarder Courtney Lindau at Peak 7

On our way down the gondola, we met three people in the medical field from California. They all looked twenty-five because California. One was an orthopedic surgeon. Whoa! I asked him about my squeaking, squawking knee after replacement. He said that was normal for some people. YAY! Then he added the technology was so new, they don’t know how much time we have before wearing it out. Bummer. I did point out that I was pretty small and wouldn’t stress out my joints as much as a linebacker.

That boosted my confidence. It concurred with some on my online research for mule-kicking, hee-hawing knees. I tuned out the part about not knowing how much time I have on these manufactured parts.

Forecasters predicted more snow, so I planned to ski again on Sunday.

ACT III

Sunday night seven more inches dropped. A little stiff and sore from the day before, I headed out with the intention to ski a couple of runs and quit early. My son, Kelly, and I, took three chairlifts to meet his girlfriend and Danny on the top of Imperial. As we ascended into a cloud and white-out conditions, I assumed we would ski down the face.

Nope.

Danny led us to Whale’s Tail.

Whale's Tail

After dropping in it was still hard to see where to go.

My favorite bowl, in the shape of its name, had just opened for the first time that weekend. Danny said it would be filled with feet of deep powder, meaning sweet, easy skiing for me.

I followed my group by sidestepping up the mountain to the steep catwalk. Yes. This was farther into the deceptive angelic clouds masking a sheer head wall on the edge of the bowl forming the tail fin.

Then it hit me.

They hadn’t skied it.

We had no idea what conditions existed. I wasn’t sure if my knee could handle heavy, deep snow.

It had been painful to ski Whale’s Tail before surgery and I hadn’t skied it since. My shoulders tightened as we hugged the mountain. Then we skied down to the edge.

I would be dropping into my favorite run from a cornice, but we were still in thick clouds and it snowed hard. We had very low visibility. I wouldn’t be able to see where I was going.

I wanted to ski down to the middle of the tail and drop into my usual spot. Everyone else wanted to drop in from the tip of the fin. I lost.

looking down whales tail

Whale’s Tail on a clear day.

I had always had skied this after several warm up runs.

This was my first run of the day.

I stood on the edge of the mountain and looked down. As everyone dropped in, they disappeared into the cloud.

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In the cloud.

I freaked.

Then I had a flashback to my heli-ski trip. After being dropped off on a mountaintop by helicopter the first time, I followed the group and carved fresh tracks alongside the rest. Sounds wonderful, right? My new boots dug into my calves. The skis they provided seemed way too long for me. They chattered while I carved turns in the wet, deep snow. It put tremendous stress on my knees. I didn’t know how to up-weight through the turns and fought through every one of them. I lagged behind and then watched in horror as our guide headed into the trees. I had never been a tree skier. I couldn’t control my crazy equipment.

Hail Mary’s became my mantra.

I made it through the trip and learned a lot about skiing and myself. Sometimes I had to dig deep.

This time, I took a deep breath and dropped in.

My pole sunk into the soft fin, never reaching bottom, unbalancing and thrashing me about. Unsupported and unsure, I kept my weight over my skis instead of my more aggressive stance on a steep incline.

When I turned to the left, I said, “This is your good knee.” When I turned to the right, I said, “Right turns have always been your strongest.” I said this every time, back and forth and back and forth until I reached the bottom.

As I caught my breath, I looked back up the mountain. It had cleared and the word was out. Tons of skiers learned there were fresh tracks to be made on Whale’s Tail.

skiers and boarders on Whale's Tail Breckenridge

Those dots are people along the ridge to give you scale. Scale on the fin of Whale’s Tail. Ha!

 

They hooted and hollered as they made their way down the fresh snow. Some tumbled. Others face-planted, but they all had fun in the deep snow.

My knee felt strained as if I had taken twenty runs already. Pain from tendons and muscles made me wonder if I would make it down the rest of the mountain. I wasn’t even halfway.

Danny caught up with me.

Danny skiing Whale's Tail

I was furious. “I can’t believe you took me down this. It was my first run.”

“You did great!” he said and then reminded me of rule #1: “A skier never trusts their friends. Not when there’s fresh powder.”

As I iced my knee at Vista Lodge, I swore I would never ski anything that difficult again. The orthopod’s warning rushed back and I felt like I was on borrowed time. I had to face facts.

More snow dumped in Breckenridge as we drove back to Boulder. I woke up and expected to be gimped out and limping, but my muscles only felt the usual strain after exercise. We only lost one branch in the wet snow over the weekend.

Both the trees and I survived.

If we had skied another day, would I have played it safe? Would I stick to easy runs? Keep my knee functioning as long as possible?

Nah. I’m going to wear a full-on knee brace next time.

I am kind of a Wild Child.

Do you take chances to live your life? Has fear gotten the best of you? What is holding you back?