A Place to Call My Own

In the past year or so I've been passively searching for my dream home. I'll be 25 in May and I'm not really in a hurry to buy my own place (within the next five years would be preferable). I rent the lower half of my parents' two-family home, so I have everything I need. I pay them more than they ask for, but it's still barely anything compared to most rent in central NJ.

2011 was the year to "Buy ALL the things!" I honestly didn't save as much as I would've liked, but I did need to make some major purchases. I paid off more than half of my new truck, which made my monthly payments quite manageable. I bought lots of dog-related things, including, well... more dogs. And just a ton of small things that all add up.

Since I spent so much last year, 2012 has been deemed the year to "Save ALL the money!" Paying for my tattoo should be my last big expense, barring any emergencies. I need to cut back on restaurant food, but other than that, I should be in a position to start saving.

My goal? I need to put away a good chunk of money for my next huge purchase -- hopefully, a down-payment on a house. My own house.

I'm hoping that what I want/need in a home will make it less desirable to the average person, and therefore, cheap. I'm not worried about school districts. I don't need a ton of bedrooms. I just want a relatively secluded place on a reasonable chunk of land. Out in the woods, maybe. A half-hour drive into town wouldn't be a bad thing.

I've been looking at chalet houses in the Poconos. Generally, they're inexpensive because most people buy them as vacation homes. They're often tucked away in wooded areas or built next to rivers or lakes -- both features I would love. Many are part of communities, which could be good or bad, depending on their rules and amenities. I plan on having more dogs, a big garden, and backyard chickens. These things may not go over well in a community setting. We'll have to see.

The Poconos isn't exactly close, but still doable as far as my commute to Edison is concerned. Luckily, it's just once a week, so I wouldn't be killing myself too much.

I'm mostly just spitting out ideas here. I have no idea if I'll actually end up in PA. It seems like it would make sense, especially if I want to someday give mushing tours. The Poconos are known for their winter recreation activities, so there's really no better place for me to live -- and still be close enough to everything and everyone back "home".

Am I setting myself up to be that weird dog lady, living alone out in the woods? Yea, maybe. I guess I am crazy, because I don't see that as a bad thing

Blue Eyes and Spitfire

Click the logo above to visit my new mushing site. You may need to refresh a few times if the page doesn't load correctly. I'm still working out some kinks with the domain.

Website Changes

I've been doing some thinking, and I've decided to create a secondary website for all my dog stuff. It will be my "kennel" page, whereas this site will remain my personal/portfolio website. I will also be starting another blog on my kennel page, but it will be for recording my team's progress - strictly mushing-related posts.

I'm sure some stuff will leak over from that blog into this one, and vice versa, but I think it will help those who strictly want to read about dog stuff.

It might be hard to believe, but I DO have other things to write about, other than dogs. And I think this separation will force me to focus on some of my other interests... some of which have definitely been neglected.

So, in the coming year, I hope to blog about the following:

• Food - I love to cook and I love to eat. Hopefully I'll have some interesting recipes or restaurants to review.
• Art - Drawing has always been a huge passion of mine, and I admit I haven't been honing my skills. I'm hoping to create more art and share it here.
• Photography - My photo-taking has dwindled down to pictures of the dogs. I'm going to get back in gear and start photographing some other subject matter. (And the dogs too, duh)
• Homesteading - This is the main reason this website isn't just a simple portfolio hub for my work. One of my main aspirations is to create a food-producing homestead by keeping a successful garden and small animals. Obviously, this is somewhat on hiatus until A. it's warm enough to plant and B. I'm able to legally raise chickens. But there are always things I can read and write about, in preparation for my future plans. And I need to get my butt in gear.

So there you have it. I'll be setting up my kennel page within the next week or two, and I'll post the link somewhere pretty obvious on this site. Stay tuned!

Blogging Life

Another Christmas has come and gone. So often I find myself commenting on how time flies. The space between each blog entry is filled with so many happenings. It's hard to pick and choose what's worth sharing. I try to balance this blog between my own day to day life and information I feel is worth reading. I hope that the day to day stuff eventually becomes as worthwhile as the informative articles I type up. 

The difference between an internet blog and a personal journal is simple: the audience. By publishing my posts online, it opens my life up to readers. Rather than just recording memories and feelings, I'm trying to collect a following. Or at least, I think that's the idea. Maybe that's a little too narcissistic.

I want to take things I find interesting, useful, important, or inspiring -- and I want to share them. And in a selfish way, I hope that stories from my own life will fit into that collection.

It will take time. I have a lot of big dreams and goals to accomplish over the next few years. My mushing adventures are only just beginning. I want to buy a house with a generous portion of land so that I can begin my homestead. I want to raise backyard chickens. I have so many things to cook, so many pictures to draw, and so many photographs to take.

As 2011 comes to a close, I can't help but look back at all the changes it brought. Most good, some bad, but all necessary. Bring it on, 2012. I've got this.

Challenge

Photo by Matthew South

It seems our dry land racing season will be going out with a bang -- and not the good kind of "bang", either. This past weekend was the dreaded Fair Hill Challenge in Elkton, MD. And when I say "dreaded" I only mean it had me more than a little anxious. I had heard plenty of horror stories, so I was prepared to get my butt kicked.

And get kicked it did. The ass-kicking began at around 4:30 AM, Saturday morning. I crawled out of bed and finished loading the truck for our drive to Maryland. We left an hour before the sun came up. Brutal. Thankfully, AJ drove down, and we made it to the race site in less than two hours.

We were signed up for the two-dog bikejor class and scheduled to race at 12:01 PM. There were three other teams in our group; two were in the same "sportsman" class and the third in the "pro" class. We were third to the chute and the dogs were as amped as ever. Dexter has especially shown a great deal of excitement at the beginning of races, which is cool to see coming from a rescue mutt in his first real year of actual mushing.

Our first run started out a bit shaky. The starting line launches you uphill, on gravel, over a bridge. Since I don't know how to ride a bike (I'm only half-kidding), I scared some spectators (and AJ) as I wobbled through the loose terrain. Somehow, we made it to level ground and the dogs galloped through the picturesque Maryland landscape.

Photo by Matthew South

Things got a little tricky once we hit the first big obstacle -- a stream. The team ahead of us was held up as the driver had to coax her dogs across the water. I wasn't sure if Dexter could handle passing, so I waited for some distance to open up between us. When I let the dogs go again, I was pretty stunned -- the ripped through the stream like it was nothing.

After the stream, we were pretty much neck-and-neck with the two other sportsman teams (the pro team had gone out first and rocketed to the finish). My guys handled the terrain with ease -- they pulled me up the first hill without a problem. However, with two teams trotting in front of us, I held them back.

This is where things got ugly. One of the other teams had a tangle and asked me to pass. I tried to push Dexter forward, but after we passed, he pulled around to meet one of her dogs. A little bit of snarling ensued, along with some tangled lines, but luckily no bloodshed. I apologized profusely, but in the heat of the race I doubt it was noticed. I pulled my team aside and let the other teams go ahead. I didn't want to mess up anyone's run with Dexter's inexperience.

I stayed relatively close to the other two teams for the next mile or so. I held my guys back to avoid passing, since it was clear Dexter wouldn't be cooperating. Then we hit the big, albeit gradual, incline. The teams ahead of us slowed down a bit, so I teetered trying to keep a steady pace without passing. As the first team approached the top of the hill and began their quick ride down, I decided to let my guys speed up. With their eyes on the team ahead, they successfully passed the other team that had been alongside us. To help motivate, I changed gears and pedaled. Or tried to.

My (brand new) bike's chain jumped clean off the gears and I wobbled awkwardly over the top of the muddy hill. Unable to steady myself, I toppled over. Luckily, I landed in a soft spot and the dogs didn't continue down the hill without me. I got back on my bike to ride again, but wiped out immediately. In the initial spill, the front tire bent sideways and was no longer perpendicular to the handlebars. Thankfully, trail help wasn't far behind. Fellow musher and friend, Romil, straightened out my front tire. It was then that we noticed my front brake was also shot. "Do you want to keep going?" Romil asked. I did.

So I continued on and squeezed my single brake tight as we careened down a steeper, root-and-rock-filled decline. We made our way through the soggy tunnel and onto the gravel road, which would take us to the finish. But not before another tangle. Since I could no longer pedal, I kicked off the ground and tried to keep the dogs going. Dexter was losing steam. Romil came to my rescue once again and ran ahead of us to get the dogs running. We finally crossed the finish, in just under 25 minutes. Definitely not our best run.

Photo by Patty Kulpa

My disastrous run on day one had me more than a little apprehensive about day two. My bike was fixed up (as much as it could be). I would only have a rear brake and I couldn't change gears. I planned to take the trail slow and stay away from the other teams, to avoid tangles or passing issues. At this point, I had all but thrown in the towel. I wasn't there to compete anymore -- I just wanted to run my dogs and enjoy it.

Day two's race began on a better note. We tore up the starting line without any wobbling and the dogs flew through the trail with ease. I was a little thrown off by the driver who started almost immediately after me. She had missed her start, and as per the rules, had to run last. I was under the impression that the 1-minute starts in between drivers still applied, but she took off only a few seconds after I did. I wasn't concerned with beating her or anything -- I just would've liked a heads-up when she came storming past.

I kept my dogs slow, as planned. I stayed behind a team for the majority of the race. I could tell my guys wanted to run like hell, but I held them back. They pulled me through the stream, up the inclines, and down the declines. I pedaled sparingly, just enough to keep steady.

We almost ran intro trouble at the very end of the race. I held them back as the team in front of us went down the steeper hill, over roots and rocks, through some frozen mud, and into the tunnel. When we made our descent, it was difficult to keep them going slow, given the terrain. I noticed, almost a second too late, that the team in front of us had stopped short at the tunnel entrance. At the speed we were going, we had no choice but to pass. I held my breath and hoped that Dexter would ignore the other dogs. And wouldn't you know it, he totally did.

Finally, with no teams directly in front of us, I let them cut loose. They tore through the gravel road and made it to the finish line. We clocked in at around 19 minutes for day two -- a whole 5 minutes faster than the day before. Once we work on Dexter's passing, I'm confident we will become real contenders in this race. But until then, I'm satisfied with my non-sled-dog-mutt and my 9-month-old. Hell, for only their third time running on trails with other teams, I'd say they did pretty damn well.

Photo by Patty Kulpa

We'll see you next year, Fair Hill. Hopefully with three dogs, a rig, and a little more experience!