Some have Psychiatrists Robert Redford has Utah

Still on nursing duty in the high country. The patient is improving slowly. Sister G has flown in from Florida to assist in patient care. In the afternoons I walk or bike for items to prepare for dinner. The mountains rise in the east like a movie set. Spandex bikers zoom by, heads down, legs pumping. Joggers trot by with the universal grimace. Tonight is supposed to be the last night of good weather. Snow blows in tomorrow. The Florida girl in me is apprehensive about navigating in the white fluff. I remember running in it years ago and falling down when the snow clogged my cleats.

Gatorade in the Baby's Bottle

Treking into the Utah clouds up to a gin clear lake in Big Cottonwood Canyon, I am reminded of a statement in a recent NPR interview with a Utah native, " We are born into the athletic caste. Our first bottles are filled with Gatorade."

I think for some residents in this state, that statement might hold true. While hiking, ROF and I were passed by packs of polite mountain bikers, a few surly marathoners, and two greying Leki pole users. At Dog Lake,our day's destination, a toddler was padding along in the alluvial mud. Her model thin mother scooped her up and told me, " This is her third time up here."

I didn't check the bottle.