life | Bertram's Blog

Maybe Something Is Working

March 18, 2018 — Pat Bertram

Yesterday I had to cut my backpack saunter short because of a cramp in my calf. It wasn’t bad, but I didn’t want to keep on going and maybe make things worse. This answers a question I’ve been pondering about whether I should take my supplements with me on a backpacking trip — both times I ended up with a bit of a problem — the calf this week and the thigh last week — came after several days of being too lazy to take a handful of pills. As silly as it is to get nutrition (and fractured nutrition at that) from various capsules and tablets, apparently, these supplements do help keep me active.

Another potential problem is that I do the backpacking practice from Friday to Sunday, and people who only exercise on weekends often end up with injuries. I figured I wouldn’t have a problem because the days I don’t hike, I take dance classes, but perhaps it’s time to change my hiking schedule. If I only saunter a couple of miles, I have no problem doing other physical things, so I am going to attempt to take shorter saunters more frequently to see if that will help build strength.

It’s one thing if I never build up enough strength to do some sort of epic hike, but it’s another thing entirely if I am prevented from even attempting the dream because of injury. (Besides, one iffy limb is enough!)

Because of the calf situation, the friend who keeps me company while I struggle with the backpack on Sundays suggested we practice tap instead. So that’s we did. And then, when I got back, I still went trudging for a couple of miles. I don’t feel as if I’m getting any stronger, and yet I can remember that just a few weeks ago such a walk carrying a weighted pack would have worn me out. So, maybe something is working?

It seems odd to me, even now that I’m focused on finishing my decade-old work in progress, I am still interested in an epic hike.

In a mythic hike.

I recently came across a really great hiking term — MYTH: Multi-Year Thru Hike. Isn’t that a cool acronym? A MYTH could be something more practical for me to work toward — doing the whole Pacific Crest Trail, but not all in one year. It sounds like it would be a lot more fun that way, especially since so many people who do the thru hike in one year (five months, actually), seem to feel lost afterward, or depressed, or suffering various ills. (Generally, those are younger folks, so I doubt I’d have the same reaction, but who knows.)

Still, a hike of any magnitude is far in the future. More immediately is my May trip. Even more immediately, as in right now, I have a literary trek to take. My characters are about to leave the oasis where they’ve been resting and are heading out across the desert. Considering how frequently bits of my novels come to life, I won’t be too hard on them lest it backfire on me.

See you on down the road.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Unfinished, Madame ZeeZee’s Nightmare, Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

Posted in Adventure, life, writing. Tags: exercising on weekends, gaining strength, getting in shape for a hike, multi year thru hike, preparing for a backpacking trip, preparing for a hike, preparing to hike the Pacific Crest Trail. 5 Comments »

A Whole Lot of Connecting Going On

March 15, 2018 — Pat Bertram

I’ve had a fabulous week so far. Dance classes were wonderful. The people who spew negative energy (or maybe they just soak up all available energy, which feels like the same thing) were absent, so only those of us whose energies flowed together were in class. Yeah, I know — that’s not why most people take dance class, but for me, that energy is the real joy. I absolutely love dancing in a group when everyone’s steps match, when every arm movement is the same. It’s odd even for me to realize how much the independent iconoclast that I am can enjoy such an interconnected activity, but that could be why I like it — it’s not part of my usual hermitic life.

Another great thing that happened was that I finally figured out what to do with my Suspense/Thriller Writers group on Facebook. I’d come to hate the group — there were always problems, the most recent one concerning the image of my books on the header. Since I don’t allow promotions in the group, many people objected to my promoting my own books. And for some reason, there was an upsurge of such complaints yesterday. I finally got angry and said, “I have tried everything I can to accommodate people, but no matter what I did, there were problems. If could delete this group, I would. My compromise is the header. Anyone who objects can leave the group.” One sage woman responded, “I don’t see where there’s a ‘compromise’ in allowing only a promotion of the admin’s work. Maybe the page title should be singular, not plural.”

So that’s what I did — changed the group’s name to Suspense/Thriller Writer (meaning me!). And I very blatantly put up a new header to showcase all of my books. I also changed the group’s description to reflect that it’s a discussion group connected to my author page on Facebook. I don’t know why, but it makes me smile to think of reclaiming the group for my own. If anyone doesn’t like it, they can leave.

Today I tried hiking with a pack again. I wasn’t out long — only about an hour, but it felt good. It didn’t feel as if I were exacerbating whatever bit of my thigh I tore last week, but I’m glad I took it easy. The funny thing is, the pack actually felt comfortable, and it wasn’t until I got back that I realized I hadn’t used the sternum strap. The strap is supposed to help support the load and to keep the pack from shifting from side to side, but if most of the weight is on my hips, I’m not sure the strap is necessary. Still, I will experiment. It’s possible I need a strap, just not the one that comes on the pack.

And best of all, I’ve been writing! After all these years, I finally feel as if I am connected to the story again.

This post started out as a list of things that made me smile this week, but I just realized there is a better theme here: connectivity. Feeling connected in dance class, connecting my Facebook group to my author page, connecting the shoulder straps with the sternum strap and the pack to my body, and connecting to my writing. A whole lot of connecting going on!

Wishing you joy of your own connections.

***

Posted in culture, life, writing. Tags: connecting to my story, creative energy, energy of dancing, Facebook group, hiking with a pack, sternum strap, Suspense/Thriller Writers group. Leave a Comment »

Quantum Banking

March 13, 2018 — Pat Bertram

The workings of the modern world seem unnecessarily complicated at times. On March 3, I put in an order to a vitamin company. I ordered one particular size of a product, but somehow, because I had another browser window open to look at various other sizes of the item, the shopping cart blipped and I ended up with the larger size, which I could never use before the expiration date. Unfortunately, I didn’t notice the change until it was too late.

I immediately called the company to ask them to change the order. They said they couldn’t make the change, but since the charge hadn’t gone through, they could cancel the order and then I could reorder. The woman I talked to mumbled something about a hold on my bank account (although these phone folks were in the Philippines rather than India, there was still a bit of an accent problem). So I asked for an explanation. Apparently, as soon as I placed the order, they put a hold on the funds in my bank account, and although they could cancel the order, they could not cancel the hold. So the money was in my account, but not.

Since I couldn’t use the money, I couldn’t redo the order because the money was already on hold. Nice, huh?

Also, they refused to send me an email saying they cancelled the order. So not only couldn’t I use the money, I had no guarantee that they wouldn’t at some point decide to take out the funds.

So, come Monday the fifth, I called my bank to see what my balance was. And sure enough, the money was missing. When I told the teller the problem, she looked further and said the money was there, but it wouldn’t show on my balance until the hold “fell off.” She also said the hold was placed just that day.

So, the company had cancelled the order but two days later still put through the hold. I called the company, and they said they couldn’t do anything about it, that the bank would have to. The bank said they couldn’t do anything about it, the company would have to. And both said there was nothing I could do about it.

Every day for a week I called the bank for my balance, and every day they assured me the funds were still there but on hold. And every day they said that the hold would probably fall off that night. It didn’t.

So I had money but I didn’t have money. Sort of like quantum physics where a thing is both alive and dead at the same time until it is observed, and no one was observing my money.

On Friday, the ninth, a bank employee looked further and discovered that the hold would expire on the tenth, but that because it was a weekend, it wouldn’t fall off until the twelfth. You guessed it. Come the twelfth, the money was still on hold.

Sheesh.

The bank wouldn’t tell me what would happen if the hold never fell off. They wouldn’t tell me if they would ever release the funds. They wouldn’t tell me how long they would keep the funds in limbo.

Luckily, before the banks closed tonight, the funds reverted to my account. How does the money revert to the account when it was always there? I don’t know. But such is the nature of quantum banking.

***

Posted in culture, life. Tags: cancelling an order, checking bank balance, missing money, modern banking, money in the bank but can't use it, putting funds on hold. 2 Comments »

Blogging, Writing, Planning

March 12, 2018 — Pat Bertram

This doesn’t seem to be a night for writing a blog — I’ve been sitting here playing games for the last hour with a totally blank mind — and yet, I hate to break the habit of daily blogging. It’s one of my few creative disciplines, and generally, if I let myself take a night off, the next thing I know, weeks have gone by without a single post.

To be honest, I already broke the string of daily blogs at about day 101, but since it was a mistake — I thought I posted something but didn’t — it didn’t affect the habit. But I suppose that raises the question — is it better to blog with nothing to say, or is it better to keep my computer closed?

Well, since I’m here, I might as well bring you up to date on the plans for my May trip. So far, I haven’t done much except schedule visits with friends on my way to Seattle. I had planned to camp at the Carrizo Plain National Monument, but the roads to campgrounds and dispersed camping areas are not paved, and I’m not sure I want to risk getting caught on muddy roads, especially since I would be there in the middle of the week when there would be no park personnel.

I’m thinking now I’ll drive in to the plain as far as I can on the paved road to see what if anything I can see — last year there was a super bloom of wildflowers, but this year, because of the lack of precipitation, they are not expecting much color at all. (Same with the Antelope Valley Poppy Preserve, but one can hope! I sure would like to see those orange fields again.)

I might end up spending that first night in a motel, which doesn’t seem very adventurous, but I’m not sure I’d make it all the way up to The Pinnacles National Park, which was to be my next stop. (My map says it’s a national monument; apparently, somewhere along the way, it got a promotion.)

I still have weeks before I go, so I’m not particularly concerned about not having any plans yet. I wish I could be totally spontaneous, just take off and see what happens, but I know what would happen. I would drive until I couldn’t keep my eyes open, get a motel room, then finish the drive the next day. Admittedly, that sort of trip is its own form of adventure, but not the eye-satisfying, spirit-expanding commune with nature that I crave. And anyway, I might have to do that sort of drive on the return trip to get back before the Memorial Day weekend, and I’d prefer not to do it both ways.

Well, what do you know — I wrote a blog tonight after all. Now let’s see if I can manage to do my novel writing stint, too.

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Posted in Adventure, blogging, life, writing. Tags: Antelope Valley Poppy Preserve, being spontaneous, Carrizo Plain National Monument, daily blogging, postaday, The Pinnacles National Park. 4 Comments »

Doing Not Much

March 11, 2018 — Pat Bertram

It’s been a long time since I’ve done nothing. Every day, there is a compelling item on my calendar — either dance classes or backpacking practice — but ever since I popped something in my thigh on Friday, I haven’t done anything. Well, nothing physical, that is. I’ve been taking it easy, reading and writing. Mostly writing.

I still don’t know what happened to my thigh. The tiny pop I felt/heard was definitely some sort of tear, but it doesn’t seem to have caused major damage. There is no bruise, no pain, no limitation of movement except for the limitations I’ve put on myself. I was concerned about exacerbating the tear, but with no real effects from the pop, I don’t suppose it’s necessary to continue resting. Too bad. I’ve really enjoyed these two days of doing not much.

If all continues to be well, I will go to my dance classes this week and hope that by Friday, I will be able to practice backpacking again without ill effects. Unfortunately, I will probably have to reduce the weight in the pack, so that will set me further back in the conditioning process than I want to be, but better such a setback than shouldering the same poundage and destroying my thigh permanently.

Even if I couldn’t go hiking today, I can do it vicariously through my poor benighted (and gaily bedighted) hero since, oddly, he is setting out on a journey across the desert. (Well, not so oddly considering who the author of this journey is!) Luckily, when I go out to the desert for real, I get to wear clothes that cover almost all exposed skin. My poor hero is clad only in that silly pink and lime green polka-dotted loincloth.

Maybe I’ll write an oasis to give him a break from the relentless sun.

But first . . . more of doing “not much.”

I hope you are having as enjoyable day as I am, and with as little to do.

***

Posted in Adventure, life, writing. Tags: doing nothing, enjoying doing nothing, hiking in the desert, muscle tear, oasis. 7 Comments »

Pop Goes the . . .

March 9, 2018 — Pat Bertram

Today as I was walking — simply walking slowly with a weighted backpack, no false step or stumble — I heard a tiny pop in the front of my thigh. There was no pain, but after walking a bit farther, I felt a faint ache. I had no trouble walking back — the road was downhill all the way, which uses more hamstrings than quadriceps — and when I got to the house and shucked off my pack, I iced the thigh. Now I have it wrapped in an Ace bandage to contain any damage, though there’s still no real pain. It’s entirely possible the effects of any damage will show up tomorrow, in which case I will have to decide if I should rest or if it would be possible to continue my backpack training.

Or it could be nothing.

Still, this is the sort of thing I’ve been concerned about — I know a person can develop muscles at any age. Even the feeblest person can get stronger with a bit of effort. The trouble is that as one is getting in better shape, the body continues to age. My quandary has always been to see if I can get strong enough for a backpacking trip before my body falls apart enough to make it impossible. People always say age is a state of mind, which is true to a certain extent, but age is also a state of body. As of right now, there is no way an average person can reverse the aging process. (I say average person because who knows what mad scientists, holed away in secret laboratories, are cooking up to create everlasting bodies.)

But, as one friend said recently, “What other choice do you have?” We can’t just stagnate, waiting for age to take its toll. We have to try . . . something . . . whatever that something might be. And, for lack of any other dream pulling on me, this fabled backpacking trip is my something.

The more I practice backpacking, the more the dream changes, and it remains to be seen what, if anything, I will end up doing. My research into the Pacific Crest Trail culture makes a thru hike, or even a long section hike, seem less a spiritual journey and more of a bacchanalia, though how people who have hiked all day can have any energy for drinking or sex is more than I can understand. (Admittedly, this is only a small part of the culture, but nothing I want to have anything to do with.)

And then there are the problems of feral dogs, wild bulls, and hikers that disappear off the grid.

Not exactly my idea of a spiritual journey.

I get a bit embarrassed at times when people express their appreciation of my courage and adventurous spirit, because as of right now, my only backpacking experience comes from my local weekend saunters. But even that is something. I mean, how many people strap on a twenty-six pound pack (plus a two-pound belly pack) and go walking. For fun.

Well, we shall see what happens. I hope this “pop” turns out not to be anything serious. I’d certainly hate to give up the dream — whatever that dream might turn out to be — because of something that doesn’t even hurt.

***

Posted in Adventure, life. Tags: adventurous spirit, age is a state of body, age is a state of mind, develop muscles at any age, Pacific Crest Trail culture, popping sound in muscle, spiritual journey, we have to try. 8 Comments »

Room For My Book

March 4, 2018 — Pat Bertram

I don’t know what happened to today. The hours simply evaporated. Now should be the time for relaxing, but I need to do all the things I should have done earlier. (Such as writing this blog.) I did go out sauntering with my backpack, so that’s something, but I got back almost eight hours ago and did . . . well, obviously, not much of anything.

I did finish reading the last of what I had already written of my manuscript, but I am still having a hard time putting myself in the proper frame of mind for writing. I simply cannot hold the whole book in my head as I did when I first started writing. I was younger then, of course, and at the time, didn’t have much in my head. It’s not that I didn’t have things to think about; it’s that I couldn’t think about all the things that were going on in my life, such as Jeff being very sick, our business fading, our savings about gone. So I wrote. (Silly me, I had the idea that writing would solve our financial problems.)

Now, I have to keep a closet in my mind filled with the new dance I’m learning for a performance this June — if I don’t keep it available, the steps will slide right out of my head, and that won’t do at all. There’s a shelf somewhere in the back of my mind for my Pacific Crest Trail research, and that shelf looks like a hoarder’s shelf, with stuff falling all over the place. And then there’s a whole room set aside for things to do before my May trip to make the journey safer and more enjoyable. I’ve closed the door, but I still know the room is filled with items screaming for attention.

I’m sure there are several more shelves, closets, and storerooms in my mind containing stuff I can’t yet clear out, but at the moment, the lights are off in those places, and I can’t recall what I should be remembering.

Is it any wonder there’s no room for my book?

I might have to go back to the way I started writing — by hand. It’s a lot slower than typing, but it allows me the time to arrange at least part of the book in my head so I can move forward with the story.

Still, this time spent rereading what I’d written has helped me understand why I left the work idle for so long — every one of my other novels has an element of mystery. With a mystery, you know how the story is doing and where it is going. When the mystery is solved, the story ends. Without a mystery, I’m not sure what I am doing, not sure where I am going, and don’t know how to end it. (Well, that last one is a lie. I know the ending.)

For as old a manuscript as it is, the writing isn’t as jejune as I expected it to be. I did find a lot more “was”s than I use now, and too many scenes started with “he did this” or “he did that” rather than something more compelling, but over all, I’m pleased with the book and excited about working on the story again.

I hope I can keep the excitement when I actually start writing.

***

Posted in culture, fiction, life, writing. Tags: closets in my mind, finding room for writing, novel without a mystery, storeroom in my mind, trying to keep my book in my head, writing by hand. 3 Comments »

In Pursuit of Dreams

March 3, 2018 — Pat Bertram

The only thing wild about my backpacking saunters yesterday and today was the wind. And oh, my, was the wind wild! It seemed that no matter which direction I went, I was always heading into the gale. Several times, gusts blew so strongly, I could not take a single step forward until the wind stopped to take a breath. I’d just as soon not be out in the wind, but if I didn’t walk when it was windy, I wouldn’t walk at all. (We’re in the windy time, though truthfully, almost all times are windy here except for a few weeks in the middle of summer when any air movement would be welcome, and in the middle of winter.) Still, my hikes yesterday and today were about a half-hour shorter than the ones I’d been taking — not only is the wind hard to hike in, it frazzles my nerves until I want to scream. (Actually, come to think of it, I did scream once or twice, but that didn’t slow the wind velocity one whit.) That I went out at all just goes to show how dedicated I am in pursuing my impossible dream. (Though I have to admit, if the only weather I ever encountered on a wilderness trail were such unremitting winds, the dream of a long-distance hike would die unborn.)

I’m hoping I will be as dedicated this month to the dream of finishing my decade-old work in progress, a book that was started so long ago that the word “Internet” was still capitalized. I’ve lived so much in that time, written so much — blogs and other books — that it’s hard to put myself in the mindset of the story. If, as in a dream (the night kind, not the hopeful kind), all the characters in my story are different manifestations of my own persona, then how can I still be those characters when I am not them anymore? (Oddly, although much has changed in the past decade, the unsightly fad of young men wearing pants that hang below their underwear is still prevalent today. And of course, politicians are still lying.)

There is no wind in the book to frazzle my nerves, so yesterday I figured I’d spend an easy hour and a half writing, but after discovering that it’s almost impossible to continue writing a dormant book without knowing what the story is about, I spent the time reading the first half of what I had written.

I found myself smiling at the humor. Found myself pleased at the way I foreshadowed the ending in the first few chapters. Found myself chagrined that although I’d written the book to be timeless, I succeeded — the human politics and policies that so dismayed my poor hero continue to this day. As does the struggle to find a balance between freedom and safety.

Today’s “writing” session should be as easy as yesterday’s — I still have to finish reading the manuscript before I can add any words to the story, so there will be no writing. And no wind.

When I do finally propel the story forward, I hope I will do justice to my hero. It was a lot easier to write from a male point of view when I had Jeff to help keep the hero psychologically true to his gender. Perhaps if I inadvertently skew the poor character closer to my own gender bias, readers will accept the change as part of the character arc.

Assuming, of course, there are any readers. Although most of my published books are genre benders, this one is so different, it doesn’t bend any genre — it sidesteps genre altogether.

***

Posted in life, writing. Tags: all characters in a dream are the dreamer, desert winds, foreshadowing, gender rolls in fiction, genre bender, hiking in the wind, hopeful dreams, night dreams. 2 Comments »

Too Old to Hike the Pacific Crest Trail?

March 1, 2018 — Pat Bertram

Ever since I’ve started walking with a twenty-five pound pack two or three days a week, I’ve been waking up extremely stiff and sore and wobbly even on non-hiking days. Apparently, that’s what I get for trying to build up my strength!

Still, I would have thought that increased activity would eventually translate to an increase in agility and and mobility, but that’s not happening. At my age, tendons and ligaments lose elasticity, muscles lose strength (at a whopping 30% per decade without high intensity workouts and additional protein intake to offset the loss), and joints can be painful even if there is nothing particularly wrong with them. (So if I weren’t trying to build up my strength, I’d probably still wake up stiff and sore.)

Once I’ve “oiled” my muscles and joints by moving around and stretching a bit, I am okay, but I worry about the night stiffness and early morning adjustment on the trail, so I’ve been researching the feasibility of long-distance backpacking for older adults. I know there are quite a few famous folks who backpacked well into their eighties, but some of them were life-long athletes, others seem naturally strong or obstinate. But what about regular folks like me who aren’t particularly athletic and who come to backpacking later in life? The prospect of a long distance backpacking trip, or even a short one, is daunting enough without adding the challenge of age to the mix.

Apparently, though, for someone in reasonable health, there’s no reason not to attempt such a trek, (though anyone with even the beginnings of heart or lung problems would need to check with their doctor before setting out). From what I can gather, everyone, no matter what their age, hurts on the trail. Older folks just have to be careful to stretch when possible, use trekking poles to save knees, elevate the legs when resting to redistribute the blood flow, and carry as light a pack as is feasible. (Feasible for an older person is different than for a younger one. Some hikers can get by with a tarp for a tent, or an almost non-existent sleeping pad, but not me. I need a bit of comfort or I’d never sleep, and if I never slept, I wouldn’t get very far.)

Of course, age is truly relative when it comes to backpacking. I recently came across a demographic survey of hikers, comparing the younger folks with the older folks, and the cut-off age was thirty-four. (The “young” group was under thirty-four, the “old” group was thirty-four and up.) And, in a forum discussing the advisability of older folks thru hiking, I came across a query from a fellow who said he was going to be turning thirty, and he wanted to know if he was too old to attempt a thru hike.

Interestingly, older folks who did long-distance backpacking trips after retirement seemed to have more fun than the younger ones because they knew what they wanted from a hike. Some wanted to go the distance, others just wanted to be out in the wilderness for five months. While a lot of the younger folks complained about the hardships, the older folks enjoyed all of it, even the rain and such because often they were fulfilling a lifelong dream. Some of the experienced older hikers did the same sort of insane mileage as the younger ones, but most seemed okay with going slower and savoring the journey, whatever the length. Older people are also more liable to enjoy the hike because after a certain age, pain and stiffness are a fact of life, so physical discomfort might not as much as an affront as it would be to a younger person.

If I were looking for reasons to give up my idea of hiking the Pacific Crest Trail (more than the day hikes I have already done, that is), I didn’t find them.

So, this weekend I will add another pound to my pack weight for my conditioning hike and bring my impossible dream a step closer to possible.

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Posted in Adventure, culture, life. Tags: age is relative when it comes to backpacking, fulfilling a lifelong dream, older thru hikers, older women backpackers, Pacific Crest Trail, Pacific Crest Trail calls to me, thru hiking. 5 Comments »

Look! A Snowflake!

February 27, 2018 — Pat Bertram

A friend drove me home from the dance studio this cold, blustery afternoon, and every once in a while, we’d see a tiny spot of white.

When I realized what I was seeing, I exclaimed, “Look! A snowflake!” A few minutes later, she made the same exclamation as she pointed out a flake.

I’m sure this fuss over a single flake or two of snow seems silly for those of you who have been all but buried in the stuff this winter, but for a couple of desert denizens, these few flakes amounted to a full blizzard.

Once upon a time, perhaps thirty years ago, more than two feet of snow fell in the desert, but I’ve only seen flurries a couple of times since I’ve been here, and whatever stuck to the ground disappeared as soon as the sun came out. The last time I saw any real snow was three years ago when a friend invited me to go snow hunting. Out here, where it seldom even rains, snow seems a mythical phenomenon. And yep, sure enough, we did find snow — enough to throw a couple of snowballs around; enough to chill our feet.

And we weren’t the only ones flocking to the nearby mountain to gog at the snow that long-ago day — the roads were all but impassable because of the traffic.

Today there was only a bit of dusting on the surrounding mountains, but even here in the desert, we got to see a snowflake. Or two.

Such high excitement!

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