Vermont - Day 2

I honestly don't know where to begin, because the long weekend in VT for the Ride to Cure 2009, was so outstanding, it's really hard to even begin writing about it.

Day 1 we all just got situated. The 8 of us.

Day 2, I headed out and met up with Paul and Steve and some others for breakfast. Steve is the one who got this whole thing rolling. His son is a diabetic and he has done rides in the past in his name. In a round about way, he knew our little group in CT was interested in riding and put the word out to a mutual friend who got us all together and that's when we decided to put our legs to good use, no pun intended. And he's a riot, to boot. Downright punchy and full of it. Tired or not. The man has got it going on.

(Paul, Steve & I at breakfast.)

Paul is.... you know what, I honestly think Paul is a gift from God. There is something about him. He is warm, genuine, honest, fun, loving, caring, and down right loveable! From the first few email exchanges I had with him I just felt like there was something about him. So to spend the weekend here and there with him, and share such an emotional part of the year with him, as well as everyone else, was a very good thing. I admire him greatly.

After breakfast I met up with Speedo and the crew and we headed up to Killington Peak via gondolaaaaaa. (Read: nightmare if you're afraid of heights!) This took up the majority of our day.

When we went to buy the tickets, the girls asked, "One way?" Speedo was thinking, One way? How else are we getting down? Does she think we're going to pack the littles on our backs and mountain bike down the mountain? Maybe hike down the very huge steep cliff or just roll down?? One way?

"No, we need 8 round trips, thanks!"

I didn't realize I was so afraid of heights until we're in this thing and it starts going up a super steep hill and the drop if the thin cable these apparatuses are hanging/rolling on breaks is like 35-40 ft, easily. Egads.

(the view out the back looking down as we went up....)

So the ride starts moving, we start going up, and I was taking pictures, smiling, and saying how much fuuuun it was.... then I realized I was talking really fast and starting to sweat. The gondola was jiggling a bit with every move and every time it crossed a cross bar pole, it made this noise and rattling....

oh --- my ---- gosh!

I think I was pretty pale. I know I was yelling at the kids.

"STOP wiggling!"

"Don't MOOOVE." "Just sit still, ok honey?"

"Let's not talk...... JUST sit still...AWAY from the door!!!"

"Did you hear that??? WHAT was that??!"

This went on for about 8 minutes. Worst ride of my life. I think I may have soiled myself if I had to stay on any longer. Seriously. That phrase, "I almost s*** myself" would have been more than a phrase and quite the embarrassing story for my poor, brave, non height afraid children who mocked me the rest of the weekend and rolled their eyes when re-telling the gondolaaaa story.

I have skied before many times and I fly (not well) ... but something about this gondolaaaaaa.... Wow. Almost sent me over the edge. And that wasn't the end of it.

We finally get to the top and it is absolutely breathtaking. They had a deck off a restaurant up there where you could take in a panoramic view. The problem was the height of the railing wasn't high enough to my standards. It was at below chest level for me, and juuuust low enough for the littles to be able to reach up and hoist themselves up to take a peak at the view, and if they hoisted too high, well, we'd be down a few kids.... I was "on" and fidgety constantly doing counts of the 6 of them, and keeping the 2 littles from running too fast, too far. They were exhausted to begin with, so wobbly on their tired feet at high altitudes and not high enough railings made me a little noivus!

(Greta reallllly close to that railing...)

I had my D80 with me and shot away. I am not huge into landscape photography, but these views were stunning.

(A rock with some cool nouns.)

We took a path up to the very peak of Mt. Killington - 4241 ft above sea level.

(At the very tippy top...The hills are alive.....)

The gondola ride down was much more relaxing for some reason.

We found a yummy market for lunch and I had probably the best Caesar chicken garlic wrap ever! Maybe it was because I was starving at that point and it was well past lunch time, but either way, it hit the spot.

After we ate, we met up with Tim and went to his pool in his condo unit, an indoor heated pool, and went for a swim before dinner. The children would swim all day if I let them.

We weaseled the kids into dinner, the big "carb load" dinner before the ride. No one said anything, and I think a lot of families did the same thing. The dinner was lengthy and my crew was quite tired but they held it together very well. There were plenty f speakers but the one that touched me most was a woman who works for JDRF. Her name is Moira McCarthy.

(Betsey listening and watching with Sheridan, Paul and Tim.)

(GoGo on like her 5th cannoli!)
(Greta fell asleep.)

She had a powerpoint presentation and was very informative as to where the JDRF money raised goes.... something I was always interested in because of the amount of money raised by them. It is such a huge fundraising organization. Huge. I was pleasantly surprised to learn about some of the ways the money has gone to research and for acknowledgement of some funding having been responsible for implementing certain existing things to help better manage type 1 - all things that will aid in and eventually lead to a cure.

Moira said something that stuck with me. She mentioned at her first meeting with board members, everyone went around the table and introduced themselves. There were some graduates of prestigious colleges, some with PhD's some very distinguished backgrounds, and then it was her turn, and she said, "I'm just an M-O-M."

She is just an M-O-M, but she knows. She understands. She is living it, has lived it, and she can give and bring so much to that table as an M-O-M. That touched me pretty deep. She went on to talk about her close friend, THE friend, the one who always listened to her, the one that was always there to help her, lend a hand, THE friend. Then one day her friend called her... from the hospital.... her own daughter was just diagnosed with type 1.

That feeling she conveyed, that was so personal to me, was so overwhelming. The rush of emotions that flooded me about Betsey's diagnosis day, and the sadness that creeps over me when I hear of another case; the understanding of what the mom of the newly diagnosed is going through. It just about kills me.

I am so happy and honored to have been a part of such an outstanding and well run event this weekend. I am delighted to see the look of contentment on Betsey's face as she looked around the dining room and noticed other moms, dad, and children with pumps, bolusing and testing.

I asked her how she felt.

"How does it make you feel to be here, Bets, to be amoung all these people, so many of them diabetic? To see all the pumps and testing? How does it really make you feel?"

She answered initially with a head gesture, like "I don't know."

She knew I wanted more than that. So I waited and watched her beautiful face as she thought about it. Betsey thinks a lot.

And then she said as she exhaled, "I feel like I'm not alone."