The Wormlips Scrapbook

When I got back from my backpacking trip on Thursday, an e-mail from Steve Nuñez awaited in my in-box. The subject was Down But Not Out.

I had the great misfortune of being thrown from my bike this past weekend resulting in a mild concussion (ALWAYS wear your helmet while riding, Kids!!!), a severely bruised shoulder, and a broken rib. Really, I’m fine for the most part, but not much can be done about the broken rib but to minimize my activity and try and manage the pain as best as possible while it mends by itself (I must admit, that’s a tough one).

Anyway, I’m home for the next couple of daze and may be able to do some work here (i.e. scheduling, travel arrangements, book orders, receive and respond to emails, etc.) Please don’t hesitate to call or email me if there’s anything I can assist you with.

Poor Steve. What a drag, I thought. I’ll call him tomorrow.

Tomorrow (Friday) he was in the ER with a ruptured spleen. That afternoon he was recovering from surgery in Room 337, expecting to be back on his feet in six weeks. Saturday morning when I called, he was in the ICU. His kidneys and liver had shut down. Saturday near midnight Bari phoned to say he wasn’t expected to make it through the night. He died early this morning.

It is cliché to say that Steve was one of the kindest people I’ve ever known, but it’s true. His genuine sweetness and gentleness never ceased to impress me. Every time I saw him he always wrapped me in a bear hug. His standard phone greeting was a cheerful, Hello, Ginna-There. It’s Stevie-Here. During some work conversations he could be so linear and methodical I’d start to get impatient, but I always kept my feelings under wraps, because he was too well-intentioned to have to deal with my crankiness. I loved him for smuggling me M&Ms and Milano cookies during meetings. I saw him act stressed a few times, but never grumpy.

I still don’t get how someone can be so completely alive one moment and so irretrievably dead the next, and I am heartbroken that we have lost him.

Rest well, Steve. We will miss you more than you could ever have imagined.

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As promised, three videos from our trip to the Trinity Alps this week.

What I did upon encountering a wee patch of snow:

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A wee narrative about a stream and its surroundings:

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Cheryl and Jill and a wee thunderstorm on a mountain lake:

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Hi, friends. Sorry I haven’t written for a long time. I’ve become increasingly aware of how boring this blog is.

However, newly returned this afternoon from a short backpacking trip to the Trinity Alps, I will succumb to the desire to show-and-tell. Actually, I don’t feel like writing so I’ll put this up in the form of a gallery with plain old captions. I’ve edited the photos down from 400-plus to 36 images.

As you probably remember: click on a thumbnail to see a medium-sized view. When the medium-sized view is visible, click on its white link below to see the big picture.

Note: Before we left for our trip, a ranger told me that the fires and air quality weren’t a major problem where we planned to visit. But by the time we arrived, the south road into the wilderness had been closed. We took a three-hour detour and dropped in from Callahan. You’ll see from the photos that there was a lot of haze but, except for some stretches when the wind changed and our eyes and throats burned, it wasn’t bad.

Another note: All the photos of me are thanks to Jill.

Next entry after this: three videos from the trip.

Okay, here ya go — pictures of Tangle Blue Lake and environs.

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