The Great Solar Eclipse of 2017 crossed the continent, from Oregon to South Carolina, and gave millions of people the chance to witness one of the most awe-inspiring events in the natural world.

But you had to be within the "path of totality", a narrow band across the earth's surface several thousand miles long but only about 70 miles wide. Outside that band you would only see a partial eclipse, not a total eclipse.

And there is no such thing as a "partial total eclipse", despite the impression blogs and the news media might give. I honestly think that's why so many people misunderstand the utter beauty of the spectacle; they may have seen a partial eclipse in the past that was total somewhere else, and even though they weren't in the path the news kept gushing about it being a total eclipse, so they assume they must have seen a total eclipse and just didn't find it all that impressive.


Posted by Dan 08/29/2017, revised 09/06/2017

This was my second year at HITS Palm Springs, returning to defend my 2015 title. Since I didn't write about last year, and last year was kind of a long time ago, just a single, emphatic word summed up my memory of that winter desert race:

COLD!!!!

So this year I did a fair amount of preparation to brace myself for the 55 degree water and the prospect of emerging soaking wet into 55 degree air to go bike in the wind:

1. I spent the week reminding myself to quit whining like a wimp.
   
   
2. I showed up to transition dressed like I was ready to go ice fishing, to preserve my core temperature as long as possible. (This made body marking something of a challenge).
   
   
3. I got in the icy lake 10 minutes before my wave start to "warm up" or more precisely, to "numb up." This was a critical step. I got the painful part out of the way early, so that I was able to start the race devoid of all feeling.
   
   
4. I added one more piece to my T1: an insulated vest with the pockets loaded up with hand warmer packets.

The swim was a success, despite the fact that almost half of it was into the direct glare of the morning sun.

I put on my toasty vest in transition, and I knew I was going to be plenty cozy, even if I couldn't feel my feet for the next three hours.

And then I set off for the "easy" part of the race.

The first obstacle came up early in the ride. The course support was a bit sparse out on those desert highways, and a few intersections had police presence, but they weren't necessarily actively directing traffic.

I approached a red light, and felt a little nervous since no one was preventing cross traffic from taking their green. But you don't stop for red lights during a race! I proceeded through with some hesitation, and cleared the intersection just in time to avoid a pickup truck barreling through. Yikes!

Not long after, I found myself at another huge intersection. There were no other racers in view ahead, and I panicked, wondering which way the course went. One of the downsides of being at the front of a race is that sometimes the course disappears.


Posted by Kimberly 12/07/2016

Vang Vieng is a small town in Northern Laos which is unfortunately a stop on the backpackers beaten trail, destroying any charm it once had and turning it into a feeding frenzy for those looking to squeeze an easy buck from the ignorant travellers. We had to stop however because just outside Vang Vieng are incredible limestone cliffs and the only climbing sites in Laos. The weather was threatening to rain but we decided we couldn't risk missing the only chance we would have. We grabbed our shoes, rented the rope and harnesses we would need from a local shop and headed for the closest, driest site.

Eager to get some real climbing in

Posted by nik 11/15/2008, revised 11/15/2008

It's RAINING! And by 'raining,' I mean a waterfall on my head. This makes Oregon's rain look like spit.

But I rode to the uni in shorts, sandals, and a tank-top. Haha. It's deliciously warm, except when you get soaked all the way through, and then have to enter an air-conditioned lecture hall. Ugh. I'm so glad I shaved my head, though! This much rain would not be nearly as fun if I had a mop on my head to worry about.

Oh yeah, and remember those little walk-ways through the trees that I mentioned? Not as nice when it's dumping water. I've been entirely against unbrellas my whole time living in Oregon - only Californians and ninnies use umbrellas in oregon - but here, it's just a smart choice. I'm going to have to use an umbrella for the first time in 4 years!
Posted by Whitney 02/25/2008