As I sit down to write my weekly blog, I’m wondering how it’s already Friday? It was only one week ago that I was stepping off a plane and into a weekend of girl’s weekend fun. It was without a doubt a fantastic time, and I always find conversations in that setting so entertaining and intriguing. You can imagine the range of topics that came up – most of which I probably shouldn’t share in this blog. However, I have to say my most favorite moments of the weekend were when I could escape the big party and go for a run.

We were staying in Two Harbors, a tiny harbor village, which means you only have to run for about 45 seconds before you can be away from the “hustle and bustle” and start feeling like you own the island. I took a fire road that hugged the coast, which left me with an uninhibited view of the beautiful Pacific Ocean. I ran in the sun, felt the salty air on my face, and embraced that moment in a run when you feel like you’re invincible. I understand that not everyone runs – in fact my pace is so slow it may not even qualify as a jog. However, I do think everyone has something in their life, their own refuge, where they can go and just be. For me, running is my sanctuary and I feel so lucky that not only is my body physically capable of it, but that I can experience different places at my snail’s pace. I chugged along that fire road and used the ocean to bring a calm back to my world. I used it to remind me of just how small I really am, and to remind me that my seemingly difficult things in life don’t have to be that hard.

It was a fine moment…one I know I’ll never forget.

Teammates Micah, Kristy and Scott celebrate after their first-place finish in April's adventure race in Chadron, Nebraska.

I’m not a high performance machine. My favorite jogging top is faded, 5-year-old cotton; I ride a borrowed mountain bike, (Thanks Giant!); and when I manage any time in a kayak, I have my paddle blades turned backwards half the time.

When I started looking into adventure racing this spring I didn’t know exactly what to expect, but despite the word “race” in the sport’s title, the addition of “adventure” appealed deeply to my sense of identity. I anticipated finishing a couple of races, having a good time doing it, and that the wide range of disciplines and being part of a team would keep me on my toes. What I didn’t expect was that the navigation and dynamic would level the playing field enough that this mediocre athlete would be running, cycling and padding her way into the U.S. Adventure Racing Association’s National Championship race near Dallas this fall.

On a fast day I’ll clock one, maybe two, consecutive 8-minute miles, but somehow my teammates, Scott, Micah, and I have still managed two podium finishes. A first-place finish on a snow-covered course in northeast Nebraska in April and, most recently, a third place finish at Angry Cow Adventure’s Run, Row & Roll, that qualified us for the October amateur championship event. I’m pretty amused and pleased by our success.

I’m laughing because the only other national-level competition I’ve ever qualified for was in square dancing. And I’m pleased that there’s a race where someone like me—an enthusiastic but mediocre athlete—can compete in a timeframe tallied by hours not minutes and in the company of racers more like adventurers than Olympians.

- Kristy Holland

I’m really not a writer. I suppose throwing down words on paper might technically make me a “writer,” but the truth is I’m just not. However at a recent team retreat with my co-workers, I agreed to contribute to the Women’s Adventure blog. I can easily admit that I’m a little intimidated by the idea of writing for a magazine’s website. At the same time however, I understand that my contribution is not made in an effort to win any awards or come up with profound words to change a person’s life. It’s just fun way to be more involved with the magazine and share stories and thoughts about my own “adventures” – whether that’s about work, traveling, or playing outside. I can’t promise I can come up with the fanciest words or even the best grammar, but I can do my best to share a little about my world at Women’s Adventure.

Like so many of our readers, I’m just another working female, trying to get as much time in the sun, on as many continents as possible, while trying to put together something called a “career.” I’ve spent years working for event companies that raised money for causes like breast cancer, AIDS, MS, and suicide prevention. I’ve now found myself it a bit a dream job with the magazine. I’m currently producing an event, whose concept was one that I created myself. I can’t begin to describe the emotion and work that comes with being able to do such a thing. This position is without a doubt a true adventure and I’m looking forward to sharing more about the challenges and victories that I have and will encounter.

In the meantime, I am finishing up this first post on a flight to Southern, California; where I’ll meet my oldest and dearest friend for a weekend on Catalina Island. She’s planned for a “girl’s weekend” for us to all get away to enjoy some hiking, swimming, laughing, and wine-sipping! Surely, they’ll be some stories that come from that…I can’t wait to stare at the ocean and feel the sand in my toes, a true luxury that I’ll be sure not to take for granted.

Contributed by reader, Andrea MacEachern

I enjoy the luxuries I have available to me at my fingertips when I’m in the comfort of my own home. Meals cooked on stove. Laundry done in a washer and dryer. A dishwasher doing my dishes. A warm, dry bed and clean shower with hot water. However, after a long winter stuck in the house, by time spring arrives, I’m sick of these walls and the luxuries within them! May 24th weekend arrives. The first long weekend to kick off summer. Time to break out the camping gear and break the monotony that was the last eight months.

At 29, I’m all grown up and out on my own which means I have to work to pay my bills. My yearly camping trip must fall in the week-long vacation I take each year in August with some mini trips taken on the few long weekends that fall between May and September. Each trip is memorable in it’s own way, but it’s the longer family camping trips of my childhood that are the most unforgettable.

From as far back as I remember, Broad Cove campground in the Highlands National Park on Cape Breton Island, was my second home for two months of the year. Every July, my family loaded the car with the bare essentials and embarked on the three-hour trek to the mountains. Over Seal Island Bridge, around Kelly’s Mountain, Across St. Anne’s Bay on a small car ferry, and finally, the last leg of the journey over Cape Smokey Mountain.

Camp was set up immediately upon arrival and the picnic table was set for our first meal without anything but an open fire and plastic dishes and utensils. My parents felt that one way to get us kids to grow to appreciate nature and the simple things in life was to show us that life can still be enjoyable while roughing it. As long as we had each other, a fire over which to cook our meals and roast marshmallows, the ocean a couple of hundred meters away, a sky lit by millions of stars and a quietness unknown in the city, we would be fine.

In fact, we were better than fine. Even when things went wrong, it was still fine. I have my fair share of memories of camping disasters. Waking up in a flooded tent after a torrential downpour. Thunder that is so loud when the sound reverberates of the mountains that it sounds like the world is going to end. Lightning strikes that came so close at times, we had to jump in the car in our pajamas and drive away from it for fear of being struck. Then there was the time I happened to glance up from my towel where I lay sunning on the beach to see a giant freak wave heading straight for us. The aftermath: half of our belongings floated out to sea and what didn’t was scattered across the beach! Or the time I came face to face with a wild animal near the bushes behind the wash house. A cougar? A bear? A coyote? Who knows! I ran too fast to stick around to find out! And I’ll never forget the summer I decided to take a dip in an unfamiliar lake, and ended up with swimmer’s itch. For the next two weeks, it looked like I had chicken pox! But I took at all of these things as adventures and learning experiences that I can look back on and laugh. There are good memories too. Some of the best times in my life happened in that park. Meeting new friends from all over the world. Watching a pod of humpback whales feeding on Capelin only meters from shore. Laying under a blanket on the beach while the most spectacular meteor shower I’ve ever witnessed took place overhead. Happening across a huge moose trying to take a drink from a stream as a playful, young, red fox ran under and around him! Jumping 60 feet off a cliff into a shark infested lagoon. Campfire gatherings that didn’t clue up until the wee hours of the morning. Eating marshmallows until we were sick to our stomachs! Hiking to the top of Broad Cove Mountain. Swimming at Mary Anne Falls. My only regret? Not taking enough pictures!

Than came the end of August and although it always seemed like we just got there, the end of summer was upon us and it was time to head back home to reality and prepare for another long, hard winter.

Those days may be long gone, but the memories will never be forgotten. I’ve carried the tradition with me to my new home away from home and new life and new friends and someday I’ll have kids of my own and I’ll have a hand in creating memorable camping experiences and I’ll teach them about the simple way of life.

(photo credit: Tim Shisler)

At the fire

A towering granite wall, a river pillowing around an s-curve, a roaring fire, a bag of wine, and a good friend: My first big backpacking trip this year was as close to perfection as it gets. Though 28-miles in two days was a little tough on my toes (I’m still nursing a blister) I feel like I’ve gotten some serious early-season mileage under my packbelt. I needed the warm-up: my summer plans will have me biking, hiking, and adventuring as far away as Glacier National Park, Lake Tahoe, and last weekend Fairbury, Nebraska.

I’ll sleep in a rotating carousel of tents and sleeping bags, breaking-in new shoes while wearing the latest in sock technology, and slurping down recovery drinks and nutritional innovations like a race-and-adventure torn soldier..

I’ve got plans for the next 7 weeks, but just in time for the August full moon—prime time in Colorado’s backcountry—my schedule clears up. Though I’m sure I could come up with something on my own, I’m also taking advice for adventures during my favorite month of summer. A friend suggested an epic 78-mile road ride, the Copper Triangle, and I’ve been dreaming of a rafting trip deep in a Utah canyon, but I’d love to hear what you’re planning and turn the tables of inspiration… what’s your August dream—or favorite reality—vacation? Maybe I can take it…

-Kristy Holland

Nolla in the garden

I wish I could bottle up a bit of my niece, Nolla’s, wanderlust. The beaten path has never been for her soles. Even her name lacks convention. When she was ten, she told my sister that she wanted to change the spelling of her name to include two “L’s” — how else could she account for the Spanish pronunciation that she prefers?

At age 12 she flew solo to meet up with some kids to visit Costa Rica for a month. She discovered she was innately immune to the homesickness of the little ones around her. Now, at 14, she’s been weeding the garden and doing way more laundry than needs washing to save up for a trip to Spain.

Today, we woke up extra early to make her favorite breakfast of eggs on toast before she left the nest for her five week trip. She had one last request before she left — a kitchen dance party with Michael Franti. OJ splashed out of our glasses, covering the floor in celebration of her departure. Inspiration from this girl is stronger than my bare feet are sticky.

Nemo and Dory await!

Tomorrow I head to Disneyworld with my almost 4-year-old.

I’ve finally decided to change my diet.   About 2 months ago, I became a “pescatarian,” but now, even fish seems to make me kinda sick.   So, I have no idea what I’m going to find to eat healthy in Cinderella’s Castle or at the “character themed” dinner.  I promise to keep you posted though!

HERA aims to raise $50,000 in memory of the non‐profit’s founder Sean Patrick BOULDER, COLO.

On June 13, HERA will honor the memory of Sean Patrick, the brain trust and creative force behind the HERA Women’s Cancer Foundation, who passed away in January 2009 due to complications related to ovarian cancer. High‐five Sean and HERA by donating $5, $50, or $500 to the HERA Foundation, now through June 13, and help HERA reach its goal of raising $50,000. One hundred percent of the money raised will go toward the organization’s research and awareness initiative programs. Please make your donation at www.herafoundation.org.

A memorial for Sean will take place from 11:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. June 13 on Aspen Mountain. The service will last approximately one hour and will be followed by a picnic. Guests are invited to bring a blanket and picnic lunch, and a wild scarf or flamboyant accessory to wear to celebrate Sean’s colorful spirit and flair for life.

According to researchers at Johns Hopkins University, one in 57 women will be diagnosed with ovarian cancer this year. With early detection, more than 90 percent will survive. Currently, only 24 percent of ovarian cancer is caught early1. About the HERA Foundation The HERA Foundation is a registered 501 (c) 3, whose mission is to stop the loss of mothers, daughters, wives, sisters, partners, and girlfriends from ovarian cancer by empowering women to take control of their health, empowering the medical community to find new directions in ovarian cancer research, and empowering communities to provide support. For more information, visit www.herafoundation.org.

“I realized if I wanted to learn to surf it would probably be a good idea to learn how to swim first.” ~ The Inspirational Story by Arpita Badami

When I had found out I won the Pura Vida Adventure surf trip I didn’t really believe it, not until I had landed and saw our beachside bungalow did it hit me that this was actually real. I knew this would be a great trip but the experience ended up being beyond words.

Arpita and Heather

I was so excited that I won the trip, except I realized if I wanted to learn to surf it would probably be a good idea to learn how to swim first.  I’m being serious, I didn’t know how to swim and so the first steps of the adventure began. I started swimming lessons about 2 and half months before I came to surf camp.  My last day of swimming lessons, we specifically practiced for surfing.  I didn’t like going underwater so I practiced diving into water, and also went over how to tread water.  I’ve always wished I knew how to swim, but never had a real reason to learn.  So yeah I would say this trip pushed me to learn to swim.  It was incredibly empowering to conquer 2 sports at once.  I feel like one fed into the other.  It’s strange because surfing made the water fun for me, where as before it was something that intimidated me.  It’s actually made me want to continue to be in the water and continue swimming.

Arpita surfing

From the moment I arrived the energy was so positive. The images were like out of a movie, horses on the beach, with the sun and waves in the background. The first night I met our awesome surf instructors, Heather and Brett, resident expert Benny, and the other incredible women at camp. It was amazing to hear everyone’s life stories and how they ended up in Costa Rica.

Our days would start with yoga by the beach, becoming balanced while listening to ocean waters; this was followed by a fabulous breakfast and smoothies with fresh papaya, mango, and pineapple; then surfing with a combo of adrenaline and zen; relaxing afternoon of hammock time with a tropical cocktail or a massage if you choose; finally, a delicious dinner with great conversation and drinks flowing. Ahhh bliss!!

The best moment was the first time I caught a solid wave. Amazing!!! I couldn’t believe it. I used to be scared of water above my head, and somehow here I was actually surfing and loving it!! It still gives me chills. After that, I was like bring it on, I can do anything. I remember in one day I went surfing, paddled out into deep waters (which was the most terrifying for me), and zip lining (yes I also have a slight fear of heights). There is nothing like facing fears.

Arpita and the gang

This adventure was revitalizing, relaxing, and healing all in one. It went far beyond my expectations. If someone asked me to plan my dream vacation I couldn’t have done it as well. I’m a changed person since this trip and have come back a better person. I wish I could share this experience with everyone. I have learned you can do anything you want. So make the time and find a way to go to Pura Vida Adventures. What you will leave with is priceless.

Arpita Badami won the Pura Vida Surf trip last November and had never swum before.   She went on the trip in April and only started swimming 2-1/2 months prior to her surf adventure.  I think her story is an inspiration for all women who have wanted to try a sport and were afraid. Her story is about conquering your fears and feeling empowered by achieving your dreams. I feel that everything is meant to be and that Arpita was meant to win this contest. She received a gift that has changed her and will always be a part of her life.  ~ Tierza of Pura Vida Adventures

By Raina Gardner, New Hampshire Ecuador Semester Program student 2008

Raina and her teammates

Imagine standing at the summit of Mt. Cotopaxi, Ecuador’s tallest active volcano. The sun has risen on the horizon bathing the world below in a rosy glow, and casting shadows from the mountains of the Andes. The numbness of my fingers and toes falls away from my consciousness as I look back on the journey that brought me here. From the chilly New England autumn to the abundance of the Ecuadorian jungle, I have experienced the power and beauty of these differing environments, and I know that my view of the world will never be the same.

I am surrounded by the people that I have come to love and trust. We have all experienced this amazing journey together, and they are my source of strength and comfort when I struggle. Together, we have experienced physical, emotional and spiritual challenges, and have grown into a strong, cohesive, and devoted group.

Focusing on the study of environmental and cultural sustainability, art, and physical activity, the semester was a constant learning experience, and a chance for personal growth. With our feet as our main source of transportation, we traveled to small communities throughout Ecuador where we learned the crafts of the people. We embroidered, carved wooden bowls, made baskets and worked with leather. Some of my best time spent on the journey was staying in the jungle. From making jewelry out of the seeds that grow there, to making Chicha, a traditional drink made of chewed up yucca, a plant common in most of the meals, we learned from a culture that most do not have the opportunity to experience. These generous teachers shared their knowledge with us, teaching us valuable skills that are so often overlooked in our fast paced life. From nature we learned how to adapt, accept, and flow with the land, and the constant changing of the weather. We developed a unique sense of belonging on this complex Earth, a connection that will stay with us always, no matter where we go in life.

The team atop Cotopaxi

We make our way back down the beautiful mountain. My body is tired, but my soul is awakened by a true passion for life. The time has come to go back to New England, and although the semester is over, the journey is not. I return home to continue on my path, and to pass on the knowledge that I learned to others.

I first heard about The New Hampshire-Ecuador Semester Program when I was attending one of Kroka’s summer camps. I had been a devoted Kroka camper, returning every year for one of their summer expeditions. I thought that this trip sounded incredible, and from then on it always stayed in the back of my mind. Having been home schooled for the past three years, I decided I wanted to experience something new, and this semester seemed to be perfect for me. Having briefly studied South America and the Spanish language, I was really interested in a first hand experience there, and to really broaden my view of the world.

This reflection was written by one of the 12 semester students on the New Hampshire Ecuador semester 2008. The program is run by Kroka Expeditions, a small Earth Living Skills School based in Marlow, NH and taught by Ecuadorian teachers. Coming from Ecuador, where the teachers were born and raised, studied and now run their small family farm they have worked many summers at Kroka. They are experienced wilderness educators and devoted to sharing their love of this world with young people.