Life after 64 gets better and better

Meanderthals maneuvering on anonymous benefactor's tree trunks. 

 OMG (love that expression - it works whether you mean gosh, goodness or god) -- this has been the longest, most colorful, glorious autumn in the Bow Valley since anyone I've talked to can remember.
It started in August with a tinge of yellow leaves in a few trees and has continued with some politely mild (and not-so-mild) freezes until last night, when it snowed for the first time. And then the sun came up up and melted the white stuff. A ton of trees are just turning gold and others have carpeted the ground with their yellow bounty.
Aspens peek out from evergreen mountainsides and glow golden in the sunlight. There are even red - red!- leaves, which we do not normally get.
The big bonus is that I demanded - and got - some days free from work to hike. We have been going steady since summer finally hit in late July. While I love the kidlets at the daycare and it is an active job with plenty of fringe benefits like hugs and stuff, my soul need the outdoors, the muscle-stretching, lung taxing excursions that can take us to the top of a peak or along a ridge that falls away on either side. As the snow covered the peaks, we have moved the hikes lower, but there are still plenty of options.

These leaves have fallen  but others have taken their place in 2011's fabulous fall.

On Tuesday, we went on what should have been a stroll along a creek which would normally  be dry by now. The leader hadn't been on the trail before and the two hikers who had hiked it hadn't been on it for a while, either. Which explains why when we got to a place where it looked like a box canyon without an outlet, I jumped ahead to scout it out and found a beautiful tiny little canyon carved by the creek (which still had water in it). Some unknown benefactor - whom we cannot thank but are grateful to - had stacked rocks and laid down tree trunks in strategic spots so we could make it through without getting our boots wet.
It meant a bit of balancing and tightrope walking and boulder hopping, and I was in my element. I love that stuff. I never think of getting hurt and falling only means you might get a little wet or lose a little skin to me, neither of which is a big deal. I do not like scree, those spots at the top of our mountains made up of small rocks that allow you to take two steps forward and slide back one, but leaping goat- or sheep-like from boulder to boulder is one of my favorite things.
There are other Meanderthals who are more aware of injury and dislike glacier cold water baths. They are far more cautious than I and slower, which means I have time to take pix like these. It was a swell day. The only one who fell close to getting wet was me, on the way back with one other hiker (the rest preferred a steep bypass route) when a log that had been dislodged by the passage of 19 hikers rolled and fell off its perch on me. Fortunately it was right at the end and there was a boulder underneath so I didn't even get my hiking boots wet or have a rock rash to show off.
Perfect day. The Meanderthals range from 50s to 90s and some of the fittest are the oldest. I'm in the B group. The As climb to the top of everything and even get a bit technical on some climbs. The Cs and Ds pick their own trails and speed. And if the Best Fall Ever continues, we'll be hiking into November, have a little break, then continue with snowshoes or cross country skiis.
Life after 64 gets better and better.

I have often felt lucky to be my age, because as the last of the War Babies, I am young enough to adopt to new technology while old enough to appreciate life BC (before computers).
I started with a 7k paperback book-size laptop (before laptops got a name) from Radio Shack, supplied by my daily newspaper so I could write town and county council stories and file them by licking and sticking a suction cup on my rotary phone (landline) receiver instead of dictating - which involved a whole pit of problems with homonyms and mishearings and misunderstandings. I remember doubling the memory to 14k so I could write two stories on it. Then I went hog wild and bought a Tandy 1000 from Radio Shack, which inexplicably lost its strong market lead in the PC game soon after this model. 
As part of the leading edge of the PC revolution, I launched my sons on paths to high nerdy skills, but didn't stay current enough to keep up myself. A child of the build-it-to-last generation, I refused to buy a new computer every 6 months and thus got woefully behind the dazzling innovations, so when I did upgrade, it was a whole new learning experience--and not usually a pleasant one.
Even with all the help from my sons and employers, I experienced extreme frustration and cursed each new generation as I tried to untangle its nerdy inner workings.
This cartoon brings home a story I did in the high plains desert of Colorado, the extreme eastern corner (next stop: Nebraska), where the mountains can't yet be seen. A report on the police scanner (I was the police reporter for a daily) stated that county deputies has discovered several computers in the ditch on County Road XX--murdered by multiple shotgun blasts.
I so understood the rapagenous impulse that led to the computercides. While I fully acknowledge the advances computers have bequeathed to society, I lament the loss of locomotion as young (and old) children endanger their health sitting at them for uncountable hours as well as the absence of imagination and wild fancy in young children fed every thought and impulse by business-based media cartoons.
And I would not be surprised if someday we all agree the best way to welcome the computer revolution may have been with shotguns.

The Adventure Continues on Route 66

Thelma owns the car, I was Louise in the shotgun seat.

 OK, I've changed my mind. Fact is, I'm still getting older (that "er" is crucially important) and the adventure continues, so: on with the blog.
Sixty-five was an eventful year. OMG.
I lost my mom in January. A release for her, who found life increasingly a burden with little joy, and for me: I now have no one to please but myself. After a few months, it felt as if I'd been wearing blinders directing where I looked and how I behaved all my life--and I had, they were called Mom's opinion. They disappeared. My horizon widened astonishingly and I see things I never did before: people, opportunities, my motives. It's been a new world - and a good one :) 

Still beautiful @ 88. Goodbye, Mom.

I tried to climb a peak called Lady MacDonald--which is no lady--with my buddy of the 65th birthday climb, but we got started late and I lagged behind puffing like a steam engine (if anybody still knows what they sounded like) so we packed it in before reaching our goal.
I got my lungs checked out and found that 41 years of smoking (and two aunts - one one either side - who died of lung cancer) had narrowed my bronchial tubes slightly. So I have an inhaler for when I hike. Have used it once (and didn't notice much difference, but I may not have used it correctly.)
Added a cardio segment to my treadmilling: I dial up the speed, get the diaphragm pumping and build up the muscles - a way better way than drugs to empty stale air from the lungs and suck in fresh oxygen,  I think.
My buddy says we haven't quit, we will get back to the Lady.
Noticed some aches and pains in the last year. I blame work. After applying for every seniors benefit I qualify for (NB-it took more than a year), I get enough for rent and food - if I don't eat too much. I was supplementing with savings, but with women in my family living into their 80s, I was on track to run out of savings well before my last breath.
I started as lunch relief at a daycare a year ago. The Alberta government deems children a vital resource, so tops up the pay of daycare workers, thus the check is well above minimum wage. Plus I get fed well at lunch and on some days, snack as well: a scrumptious perk I deeply appreciate.
I have enough to pay living expenses plus perks like a little traveling :)
It cuts into hiking and tennis time something awful. Yes, looking after kidlets is more active than sitting behind a desk, but it isn't a 21k hike or 2 hours of running around a court. My general body conditioning has deteriorated. I'm a vicious cycle of no time to exercise because I'm working and no exercise when I have time because I'm exhausted from working.
I don't like the aches and pains of an underused body, so I'm working on that.

Hiking the Athabasca Glacier.

These are minor and fixable issues. Life is good. Really good. I spent 65 & started Route 66 by cruising down California's PCH in a 1967 Mustang convertible playing Louise to my buddy Thelma, hiking in some gorgeous country, visiting friends and hugging the WGG - who has unaccountably started kindergarten already!
And that's the update, roundup, status report.
A friend asked me to show her how to blog (on the belief that I would be a gentler teacher than her hubby or kidlets). I used mine as examples and realized I miss it.
It is so neat to be able to start again.