Warrior Dash

What's up fellow out-of-shape Internet users.

About a month ago, my brother Chris texted me and asked if I'd be willing to do Warrior Dash with him towards the end of July.  His wife, Nicole, had been doing it for years and got him into doing it the last two years since they've been together.  Well, needless to say, Warrior Dash isn't the sort of thing a pregnant woman - let alone a woman pregnant with two babies - would be cool with doing, so she was out.  So was the other guy Chris had offered Nicole's ticket to when she decided to up and get pregnant after they had bought their tickets.

So he asked me.

And if you folks know anything about me, know this:  I'm terribly out of shape.

I'm not fat or anything, but I rarely exercise.  I'm on my feet all day at work, so during the school year I rarely feel up for running after wrangling teenagers for eight hours a day.  Granted, I ran a 5K the last couple years for St. Patrick's Day, but that's about it.  I honestly didn't think I'd be able to do it.

It took no small degree of convincing on Chris' part before I finally relented and agreed to do with him.  For those of you unfamiliar with Warrior Dash, it's a 5K obstacle course through the woods, where you scale walls, crawl through tunnels, swim across ponds, navigate your way through trenches, climb through water-spraying death traps, jump over fire, and drag yourself through mud under barb wire.  Endurance is definitely more important than strength.

Nicole hung out at the Finish Line and snapped a few pics as we made our way through the final stages of the course.  We were covered in mud and had to discard our shoes at the end, but fortunately Chris had snagged a few used pairs for us from guys he works with.  After waiting in line for a half hour to showever off the caked-on layers of mud we had accrued, we drove home and I promptly took a two-hour nap, thoroughly exhausted.  I'm definitely doing it next year.

I also was able to download a few pics some event photographers took throughout the race, so I leave you now with some photographical evidence of my day pretending to be somewhat athletic.

Rock and roll.

Clean and dapper, pre-race.  Note the lack of mud, sweat and tears.

The firs half of the course was mostly running through sand, through the woods.  There were few obstacles for the first leg of the race, but running through sand was absolutely brutal on your ankles - my joints were pissed at me by the end of the day.  There weren't any photographers in the first six or seven obstacles, but they had one stationed at the Fisherman's Catch, shown here.

Chris charges over the Warrior Roast in the home stretch, near the finish line.

I am all that is Man.

After the Warrior Roast, you had to scale a wall and then slide down this water slide - who doesn't love water slides? - before splashing through a giant mud puddle.

Approaching the last obstacle of the course:  Muddy Mayhem.

This wasn't hard at all, but it was obviously pretty gross.

Warrior Dash.  Vanquished.

Until 2018. . .

- Brian

The Hough Brothers, in: 'How to Build a Fire Pit'

Hi gang.

Just a mini-installment today, but I wanted to share something with you folks that might come of practical use to you later:  how to build a fire pit for under $100.

Kris and I have been wanting one for years, but haven't been able to buy one because we were either living in a.) a rental property with crappy or un-fenced yard space, or b.) Florida. . . where that shit's illegal.  However, now that we're once again homeowners, and in Michigan - and have a backyard the size of a small park - we decided to pull the trigger and build ourselves our very own bonfire pit.

After researching city ordinances via Midland's city government site, and looking up several different varieties of construction, I landed on a design that was both visually appealing and cost effective (and well-within all applicable zoning laws.)

For $100, I was able to purchase all of the following items necessary to build my fire pit:

1. 48 edging stones (I think the color we went with was 'charcoal red,' - Kris liked red, I liked grey, so we compromised.)
2. 3 bags of pea gravel
3. 3 bags of plain sand
4. 1 tube of rainproof, masonry construction adhesive
5. 1 12-pack of Michigan's own Short's Brewery's Summer Variety Pack (for the hired labor, as my brother Chris offered to help me with some of the tedious, manual labor, and we're both big fans of craft beer.)

Allow me to walk you folks through this. . .

I scouted out the backyard and found a spot that was nestled between two of our large garden 'dividers' (our backyard is split into three, large areas, and the first one Kris and I wanted to leave empty for future house additions and patio use.)  The spot I selected was naturally screened by trees from the road, as well as from neighbors on all sides except one of the ones right behind us (but even then, it was mostly screened by bushes.)

Midland ordinances require all fire pits to be no larger than 36" in diameter, and no larger than 2' high off the ground.  In order to measure this out, I laid out rings of 10,11, and 12 stones out at Home Depot and measured it with a tape measure.  10 stones gave you a fire pit diameter of 25", thereabouts, but the stones were completely flush together.  Although it looked really cool, 25" was almost really, really small.  12 stones (shown here), provided nearly 36" in fire space, but the stones had more gaps between them.  11 stones, with a 32" diameter and smaller gaps between stones was - like Goldilocks herself said - juuuuust right.  After placing the stones down on the desired spot, I cut into the lawn with a shovel in order to trace out the line.

The hardest part of this whole process - by far - was digging up the lawn.  Our grass is awesome, so cutting through it was a total bitch.  And of course my brother, who had previously offered to help with the project, showed up after this hole had already been dug (about 6" deep.) 

After raking the ground level, it was time to stamp it level with a stamping tool (whatever they're called), which I borrowed from Mom.

At one point, the girls came out to 'help us.'

After using a large level to make sure it was 100% level (I don't want water accumulating in one spot or another), it was time to move on to the next stage. . .

First I put down a layer of sand, in order to help form a more level and sturdy base, that would also allow some more drainage.

Next, I placed the first layer of edging stones, which would end up being half-buried in pea gravel, which I put over top of the sand to provide more drainage in case of rain.  I also added a small perimeter around the outside of the stones in order to prevent the fire from singing the grass.

I forgot to take a picture of it, but I also added an additional, thin, layer of sand over top of the pea gravel inside the pit in order to prevent any of the moisture-laden pebbles from exploding from the heat (which, I guess, is something they do.)

The finished product:  it adheres to all city ordinances, cost next to nothing, and will be getting it's 'maiden voyage' on the Fourth of July.  Stay tuned.

- Brian

Traverse Smitty, Pt. II

(Contd.)

Smitty and I had stayed up for quite awhile the previous night after all the womenfolk had gone to bed.  Shortly after we finally turned in the dreaded rain that had been in the forecast arrived. . .

Overnight, raccoons had ambushed our campsite, which we had anticipated in advance.  We had stored most of the food in plastic totes, except for these disgusting hot dogs that we had attempted cooking over the campfire (they were charred black on the outside and barely cooked on the inside - pretty gross), which even the raccoons didn't want.

Somehow the raccoons had been able to stumble across our sealed package of muffins that we had saved for breakfast, and had gnawed through the plastic shellcasing in order to get to them. . .

They put all the work into getting those frickin' muffins, yet were clearly appalled by the grossness of our hotdogs that were sitting out, open and available, on the picnic table. Go figure.

Hours later, while people were still getting around for the day and showering (there were huge lines for the showers up at the bathhouse.)

Kris had realized yesterday, after we had set the tent up and moved all our cots and crap into the tent, that we had forgotten to put tarps down underneath the tent.  Knowing that it was going to rain a lot on Saturday, Kris and I were able to shimmy tarps in underneath the tarp (miraculously), with only a few areas exposed.  In the end, our tent barely leaked, which I was extremely cool with.

Once everyone was showered and ready to roll, we all loaded up and hit the road.  We had decided to drive around and check out a few touristy areas that Smitty and Rita recommended outside of Traverse City for the day.  It was still raining a little, but it had lightened up to a drizzle.

What. The.  F***. 

Entering Leland

Smitty wanted to check out the historica fishing village in Leland, and there were lots of restaurants and shops to check out as well.

We didn't eat here, but we did frequent their bathrooms.

Abby makes a friend. . .

Historic Leland Fishing Village

Smitty drops some knowledge. . .

This section of town specialized in comically-overpriced souvenir stores.  We bought nothing.

The wharfs

No idea what this dude's up to. . .

The infamous Smitty

Is this a loom?

Some big-ass tree of some local importance (at least according to its plaque.)

Following our trip down to the Leland Fishing Village, we swung in to a local pizzeria for some lunch.

After lunch, hitting up more souvenir stores

While the girls shopped, Smitty and I ducked into a local distillery to to try out some whiskeys.  For $5 you got to try four half-shots of whiskey and receive a free shot glass with the distillery's name on it.  Not too shabby at all (whiskey was decent, but I've had better.) 

On the way back to the van.  The kids loved walking this trail of stones down the sidewalk, and of course the Cannonball brought up the rear (Smitty was good enough to wait up for her.)

Since the rain had let up, we decided to take the kids out to the Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes. Due to some special promotion they were running - and because we had State Park tags on our van - we were able to get all seven of us into the Dunes for FREE.  Booya.

The long climb begins. . .

You'd think this initial wall of sand was the worst, but beyond it the dunes stretch on for frickin' miles. . .

We decided to try and trek across the Dunes until we reached Lake Michigan, which, in theory, didn't sound too challenging at first. . .

Without a doubt, the most athletic one out of all of us was this kid right here.  While we all trudged along sluggishly, Abby zigzagged her way up and down various dunes to either side of us, posing for the occassional picture before zooming off again.

Still on our forced march to the Lake.

Signs of exhaustion

Looking back at how far - or not so far - we had come thus far (the parking lot is in front of that tree line at the base of the hill.)

Picture of whatever lake this is.

Abby, going full-tilt down yet another sand dune. . .

Into the wild.

 

Smitty spots Lake Michigan in the distance

The kids were troopers for this hike - I think we adults complained far more than they did.

Sweaty

Plotting our next move

Lake Michigan, through my telephoto lens

The kids occupied themselves during a little break by drawing in this little sand pit

Smitty, Rita and Abby

On the way back, time for another portrait (our portrait from the previous locaiton didn't turn out that great due to uncooperative children - go figure.)

Frickin' Cannonball. . .

Heading back downhill (downdune?)

Team Hough and Smitty.  Really, really tired.

Smitty makes a mad dash for the van. . .

(Kris and I made a lame attempt running down the hill as well.)

No drones?  Thanks, Obama.

Photo courtesy of Abby (not sure what's being discussed, here.)

Stay tuned for the thrilling conclusion. . .

 - Brian