Ironically, the weather forecast for today looks pretty good for a first outing. “Partly sunny, with a high near 53. Southeast wind around 7 mph becoming north.” It looks pretty good for a bike ride too. Maybe I’ll ride my bike out the to marina again.

That means I’ve been thinking a lot about two things this week: the weather and staying dry.

Weather-wise, Saturday’s forecast for the Salt Lake City area says it’s going to be partly sunny with a high of 54 degrees. Sounds dry. Sounds like a great day to be outside, right? Well, the weather forecast has changed dramatically each day I’ve checked it since last Friday, so who knows what it’s really going to be like on Saturday. It’s completely out of my control so there’s really little sense in worrying about it. The weather is what it is. End of story.

Staying dry, on the other hand, is something I can worry about and have some control over. I’m not talking about keeping myself dry either. I’m talking about the “stuff” I haul around with me all the time. At various times I’ve jokingly referred to this “stuff” as my “peripherals,” my “vital external organs,” my “diabetes IV”, my “artificial pancreas wannabes”, but whatever the name, it’s the equipment I carry with me for caring for diabetes and, well, to be perfectly honest, to keep me alive. It’s equipment like my blood glucose monitor, continuous glucose monitor, and insulin pump. When the manufacturer of this stuff says it needs to stay dry, I pay attention.

My plan to keep this stuff dry is to package it all individually in dry bags like this one:

Since they’re clear, I should be able to operate the electronics (mostly) without opening the bag and risking exposure to water. These units also have the advantage of coming with a lanyard so I can secure the bag to me, or if that’s not convenient, to the boat. That will reduce the likelihood of the other kind of “oops” that would turn a pleasant day of sailing into an expensive disaster, if not a crisis. That is, in a moment of pure clumsiness, dropping one of these devices into the lake.

We’ll see how well this works. More on the subject of sailing and staying dry next week. I promise there will be photos too.

So, off I went at about noon. I wasn’t sure I had the fitness for a 60-mile ride, especially with the brisk 15 mile per hour headwind, but I was determined to get there.

By 2 PM, I was there. I expected the marina to be a pretty quiet place in February, but I was wrong. I could see a number of sailboats on the horizon.

After checking out the boats on the lake, I checked out the marina. I found this poster outside the restrooms:

After a half hour at the marina, I headed home…without any mice. I made the return 30-mile trip in an hour and a half. Ya gotta love a 15 mile an hour tailwind!

Coming up the trail towards you are two other hikers out for a Saturday afternoon hike just like you are. Except they’re not wearing clothing anything like yours. In fact, they’re wearing barely anything at all. For a base layer, they have boxer shorts and boots. After that, they have, well, nothing. OK, actually, they have sunglasses and one guy has a hat; the other guy has a backpack, a substantial paunch, and dense layer of graying chest hair. Do any of those count as a layer?

Do you have that scene in your imagination? Good. Now you have in your mind a bit of the scene I encountered on my hike yesterday. It was an interesting scene, to say the least. But, it’s a free country, I guess, and if a person wants to go into the wilderness wearing nothing more than a loincloth, I guess you should be free to do that.

Since it is a free country, my custom for weekend hikes is to take our border collie, Pearl, with me along with plenty of extra clothes, water, and food. I guess years of living with diabetes has ingrained in my mind the need to be prepared for all eventualities.

Another custom of mine is to start my hike at home instead of driving to the trail head. I walked out the front door, down the street about a mile, through an off-leash park for dogs (Pearl’s favorite part) and then, finally, to the trail head for Grandeur Peak. From there, it’s up steeply towards the summit of Grandeur Peak.

We didn’t make it to the summit though. Pearl doesn’t have the fitness yet to attempt that. (Hey, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.) We climbed about 3000 feet (the highest we’ve ascending on Grandeur Peak this winter!) and stopped to enjoy the view. I couldn’t possibly describe that scene in words, so here are some photos that I took:

According to Manny Hernandez, founder of TuDiabetes, there are at least two dozen diabetes-related social networks (as of May 2009). I wouldn’t be surprised if there are even more now. Because I found eight in about 15 minutes of searching online. Below are the ones I found and I’ve also included a brief description taken from their site:

I’m thinking about joining one of these. No, actually, I want to join one, but I’m hesitating because, well, I’d rather be outside doing stuff, whether it’s bicycling or hiking or whatever, than sitting at a computer. With a job as a software engineer and a couple of personal blogs to maintain already, I’m hesitant to commit to spending more time online. Besides, anybody who knows me from facebook (another social networking site) knows that I don’t play the facebook game very well. Months go by between my logins. I’ve had my facebook account for a few years now and I still haven’t filled in anymore than the required elements in my profile. I’d rather spend my online time updating my blogs, I guess.

But, I’m still thinking of joining one, but only because they are specifically oriented towards people with diabetes. Manny Hernandez gave ten good reasons to join a diabetes social network. They’re ten very good reasons.

So, the next question is: Which one? Any suggestions?