Pandora Music

Check this site out.  It is awesome!  www.pandora.com 

About Pandora®

When was the last time you fell in love with a new artist or song?

At Pandora, we have a single mission: To play music you’ll love - and nothing else.

To understand just how we do this, and why we think we do it really, really well, you need to know about the Music Genome Project®.

Since we started back in 2000, we have been hard at work on the Music Genome Project. It’s the most comprehensive analysis of music ever undertaken. Together our team of fifty musician-analysts has been listening to music, one song at a time, studying and collecting literally hundreds of musical details on every song. It takes 20-30 minutes per song to capture all of the little details that give each recording its magical sound - melody, harmony, instrumentation, rhythm, vocals, lyrics … and more - close to 400 attributes! We continue this work every day to keep up with the incredible flow of great new music coming from studios, stadiums and garages around the country.

With Pandora you can explore this vast trove of music to your heart’s content. Just drop the name of one of your favorite songs or artists into Pandora and let the Genome Project go. It will quickly scan its entire world of analyzed music, almost a century of popular recordings - new and old, well known and completely obscure - to find songs with interesting musical similarities to your choice. Then sit back and enjoy as it creates a listening experience full of current and soon-to-be favorite songs for you.

You can create as many “stations” as you want. And you can even refine them. If it’s not quite right you can tell it so and it will get better for you.

The Music Genome Project was founded by musicians and music-lovers. We believe in the value of music and have a profound respect for those who create it. We like all kinds of music, from the most obtuse bebop, to the most tripped-out drum n bass, to the simplest catchy pop tune. Our mission is to help you connect with the music YOU like.

 

THE CROW?

My New Friend

 Strange things have been known to happen in Kelly, WY.  On sunday, July 5th, Eric was up early getting ready to leave for the Middle Kings.  It was six in the morning when I first him scream, “Jess get up!  There is a crow attacking me!”  ”What?  Your crazy.”  ”No, Jess, get out of bed!  There is a crow attacking me!”  I pulled myself from my warm cozy bed to see what was going on.  Sure enough there was a crow standing on our garbage can looking into the screen door.  ”Eric, it’s just a crow?”  ”No Jess, it is attacking me!”  I decided Eric was crazy and that I would go outside and face the crow.  As soon as I opened the door, the crow let out a huge screech, took flight, and dive bombed, talons first.  I dashed back into the house, narrowly escaping the crazy bird.

The Crow

 Eric looked sick about it, “Maybe he’s trying to tell me I shouldn’t go kayaking?”  I had just read a book about the beliefs of Inuit, Alaskans (aka Eskimos).  The Inuits believe that crows are re-incarnated people.  If there is one crow at your house, it is someone trying to tell you something.  If there is more than one crow at your house for a prolonged period of time, it is a bad omen.  ”Maybe it is Jeffe trying to tell you something.”  Eric looked at me like I was crazy.  ”Can’t you just scare it away?”  ”Maybe it hungry.”  I decided to try to feed it.

Maybe the crow is hungry. 

The crow wasn’t hungry.  He approached me, pretending to be hungry.  When he was two feet away, he attacked.  I ran back into the house for safety and started cracking up.  ”Maybe you shouldn’t go kayaking.”  It finally dawned on us that we should let the dogs out to scare the crow away.  AJ and Burley did the trick and the crow flew away.  Eric and I laughed and wondered what was wrong with that crazy crow.  Would he be back?

Burley Bear

Yes!  On tuesday, I was painting the trim of our house when the crow bummed rushed me.  He flew directly out me screeching and talons pointed directly at my face.  He scared the shit out of me.  I dropped my brush and ran for cover.  In the safety of my own home, I tried to decide what to do.  I looked out the door and the crow was on the door step looking at me.  Once again, I thought he might be hungry.  Although, this time I was going to take some safety measures.  I grabbed the thickest sweatshirt I could find and the left-over elk meat from the night before.  I walked to the door reminding myself to stay calm, animals can sense when nervous.  At least horses can.  I slowly emerged from the house, elk steak extended.  The crow cocked his head from side to side.  Would he attack?  I really hope not.

Maybe he is hungry and wants to be my friend.

 The crow hopped forward and took the meat from my hand.  He is hungry.  I was so excited and hoped I had just made a new friend.  The crow finished his steak and then bummed rushed me again.  I couldn’t believe it.  I thought we had made a connection.  Nope, he just wants me to feed him.  I ran inside and grabbed some more steak.  This time I decided I would make him come to me.   Armed with steak, I sat down and waited.

Maybe he doesn’t want to my friend?

 He hopped over to me, eyeing the steak.  He jumped onto my left leg and grabbed the steak.  All I could think was that this was so cool.  He ate the steak will perched on my leg.  I couldn’t believe it.  After he finished his snack, he he jumped to my other leg, looked at my toes, and then he bit me.  Damn crow!  I screamed and jumped up.  Nope!  We aren’t friends yet.

 Now I was determined to be friends with the crow.  I watched him a little while as hopped around the porch checking everything out.  He picked up a piece of rope and started tugging at it.  Maybe he wants to play tug of war?

Tug of War with my new friend.

 I grabbed the other end of the rope and pulled gently.  Yep, he likes tug of war.  This was the turning point in our new friendship.  We played for a while.  Eventually I was able to pull him close enough towards me that I could pet him.  Talk about being scared.  I wasn’t sure if he would let me pet him or bite my fingers off.  He let me pet him and then eventually he hopped onto my arm.  Crazy!

Bonding

 It was so cool!  I had a crow on my arm.  And not just any crow, the crazy bird that had attacked me a week earlier.  

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 We were finally friends.

Friends at lastThe crow kept stealing my sanding sponges, so I let him play with one of the dog toys.  I think he liked it.

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Eventually the crow grew tired of our new friendship and flew away.

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Like I said crazy things happen in Kelly, WY. 

 

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Skiing in Yellowstone

Brian Lads beautiful turns.

It is spring in Jackson and the lifts have stopped running, but the snow has not stopped falling.  Normally that means mud season in Jackson.  Mud season is one of the worst seasons in Jackson.  The snow melts, the rain pours, and the earth turns to inches of mud.  I usually pack up skiis, grab my kayak and head for warmer temperatures. Not this year.  The Tetons are full of snow and Yellowstone has still has ten foot snow banks.

I joined Jeff Burke, Brian Ladd, and Greg Von Doersten for an adventure in Yellowstone.  Jeff Burke shared an amazing Yellowstone secret.  On the east side of the park lies endless amounts of steep skiing.  The best part of the area is the Pahaska Teepee Lodge, which is only 15 minutes from the top of the pass.

 Jeff Burke getting after it

Jeff planned three peaks for the group, Top Notch, Avalanche, and Done Peak.  The first day we skied Top Notch Peak.  It is a short skin to the top of the Peak.  At the top, is a beautiful view Yellowstone lake and 2000 foot coulars.  The skiing was sick.

Top Notch PeakTop Notch Ridge

The next morning we woke up at 4:00 and headed for Mount Done.  The approach to Mount Done is a 7 mile skin through undulating terrain.  I really put the Marker Duke to the test, while chasing all of the guys on Dinafit bindings.  We summitted Done in 60 mile an hour winds at 11:30.

Skinning through a burned area Mount Done from 7 miles away

After skiing Done, we made the long back to the truck and enjoyed one of the best tasting beers I have had in long time. 

Almost a World Record

While everyone is Jackson is chucking themselves off big drops, my friend Ben Stookesberry is also chucking himself - off waterfalls. This was a possible world record first descent.  The current waterfall world record is 107 feet run by Tyler Bradt.  According to the Denver Post, “Kayaker Tyler Bradt dropped 107 feet over Alexandra Falls, located along the Hay River in Canada’s Northwest Territories, and in the process setting a new World’s record.”  Alexander Falls 

Ben estimates the drop he took to be around 120 feet.  Not only is the falls big, but at the bottom of falls live a 22 foot anaconda, according to locals.  Ben’s account of the event came to me in an email:  

” I can’t take the tittle away from Tyler Bradt yet, but there is a good chance I will 
run this one again with some sort of supper glue on my spray skirt and a willingness to 
get beat down by massive converging currents in the pool below.   This 33 - 39 meter 
falls is an example of hydraulic perfection in Brazil. 3000 cfs on the Current River 
converge into a 15 foot wide power tongue that plummets into the pool 107 - 115 feet
below.  Due to heavy rain, the river was running about 9 feet above base flow creating
a roiling pool with a 6 - 10 foot boil in the pool below. Certainly the act of running 
a falls like this seems to be the epitome of hedonism, but certainly the act of running 
a falls like this seems to be the epitome of hedonism, but I like to think about it as 
a group descent.  My safety and film team at the bottom consisted of Ryan Mac and Chris
Zawacki. Ryan McPherson has been to Brazil for the last 5 years and knows more about 
Brazil’s class V rivers than anyone else on the planet.Chris Zawacki is your go anywhere
do anything positive laid back kind of guy that is an amazing boater and photographer.  
My company at the lip consisted of two of the most positive people on the planet… 
Jesse Coombs and Pedro Olivia.  Pedro has been pushing this trip to the amazing quantity 
of huge runnable falls that exist in central Brazil and he can be seen in the photo 
living it up in the 70 degree spray of this monster. As you already know, Jesse Coombs 
is the hardcore kayaker\business man that brings a coherent analytical perspective to 
extreme end of the whitewater spectrum.”
 Ben Stookesberry
 
Ben’s sprayskirt blew when he reached the bottom of the falls, which means he cannot claim a the Wolrd Record.  But I give him huge props for the attempt and cannot wait to see his upcoming video.  

 

Jackson is Still Going Off in April

What month is it?  There will be no corn skiing in Jackson this year.  Jackson has received more than 40 inches in the last week and the forecast is more snow.  The last week of March has been filled with days of bottomless powder.  The skiing is better than ever and the mountain scheduled to close in six days.Eric kill’n it on Cardiac Ridge

 

  1. It is time to get your “huck on” in Jackson.  Locals are going crazy.  Each season skiers create a mental check list of what they would like to ski.  Right now is the time.  This week I was able to check off SNS.  SNS is a 25-35 ft crack drop (depending on who you talk to) at the top of Rendevous Bowl.  Backcountry JHMR

The sun peaked through on Friday morning and Cody Bowl was attacked.  Nothing was left untouched.  It was pretty incredible watch.  People flung themselves off everything and anything, getting the last winter rush before JHMR closes for the season.  The weather forecast for the next week is snow! 

Freeride World Tour Championships, Verbier

Verbier, Switzerland is home of the O’Neill Extreme.  The O’Neill Extreme began in 1996.  According to the organization it is,

Considered the most prestigious event in the Freerideworld. For the “grande finale” of the Freeride World Tour the elite of Freeridewill tackle the mythical North Face of the Bec des Rosses, a dauntingly steep and frighteningly jagged 500 m rock-face. The Bec des Rosses presents in places some 55° sheer slopes. In an upright position one could nearly lean on the face with one’s elbow. With steep and narrow couloirs and high rock cliffs. Around 5000 spectators join the riders at one of the most beautiful natural arenas of the Alps, the Col des Gentianes in Verbier.”hanging snow and terrain, it asks the riders to be particularly skilled with top physica lcondition, thorough mountain experience, and top placements in the previous contests.”

 Bec De Rosses

The competition was scheduled for Saturday.  I arrived on Thursday, which gave one day to scout the Bec de Rosses. The rules of FWT state that no competitor shall ski the contest venue one month prior to the event.  So all of the competitors gathered across the valley from the Bec armed with binoculars and cameras to try to find a safe line.  Many of us were concerned with the snow conditions.  Verbier had just received a meter ofsnow in the last week and there was a lot of slide activity.  Not only did we have to find a safe way to impressively negotiate the face, we had to be concerned with avi-danger.  Not an easy task to achieve with a pair of binoculars.

 It was difficult to tell how large all of the features were from across the valley, so a group of us decided to ski underneath the venue and get a feel for how large the bottom cliff bands truly were.  As we skied underneath the venue, the entire face of the Bec de Rosses slid. We all straight-lined to safety. Luckily, everyone was fine, but the organization had to choose a new venue for the competition.

 Mount Gele

It was decided that Mount Gele would be the new venue for the competition.  The morning of the competition we loaded the lifts at 7:00.  I stood on top mount Gele and once again I was the only girl at my start.  Instead of asking for some comforting words from the other competitors, I kept to myself and focused on the run I was about to ski.  The crowd that was gathered at the bottom of venue was enormous.  I could hear their cheers from 1000 meters up.  I couldn’t see the other girls ski, but I could tell how well they skied by the cheers of the crowd.  It sounded like everyone was kill’n it.

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I was the last girl to ski.  As I eased into the start, a helicopter buzzed over my head with cameramen hanging out all sides to film my run.  Talk about pressure. The film crew was not the only pressure I felt for my last run on the world tour.  I had to place in the top two in this competition to guarantee myself a spot on the tour for next season.  This meant no falling and I had to ski well.  I dropped intoa 55-degree chute over heavy exposure. The snow pack was variable; pockets of powder and lots of bulletproof ice.  At the end of the chute, I traversed across an exposed area into a wide-open chute with perfect powder.  In the middle of the chute I hit a small cliff and ripped down to the finish.  I skied a good solid line and placed second in the competition.  I also finished second overall on the Freeride World Tour and guaranteed myself an invite for next year.

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I did not get to ski the Bec de Rosses, but she will be waiting for me next year and I will be ready for her.

 

Krasnaya Poliana, Russia



 

 

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The first time I heard about the O’Neill Extreme, I was in Verbier, Switzerland competing on the IFSA Freeride World Tour.  It was my first time to Europe and I found myself standing on top of what I thought at the time was a massive peak.  The name of peak was Mount Gele.  It was the first run of the competition and my stomach was so wound up.  There were three starts for competitors to choose from.  There was a half hour to the start and I looked around to see where the other girls were starting.  To my surprise, there were no other girls around.  I looked over at start 3 and saw all of the other girls gathered there.  This made me nervous.  What made me really nervous was that the only other competitors at my start were the Frenchies.  The “frenchies” are the French men who dominate the tour.  Alarm bells went off in my head.   My heart was racing and I needed a way to calm my nerves before I had to compete.  I decided to ask one of the frenchies what he thought about line, hoping a little local knowledge would calm my nerves.  I walked up to Gurlain and asked if he would give me some advice about my line.  He said, “If you ski that you will die.”  Awesome! cw0074.jpg

I collected myself, telling myself that I could ski the line I had chosen.  My inner pep talks usually include, “You got it.  You live in Jackson and ski some of the most challenging terrain in the lower 48.  You can do it.”  I skied the line.  It was the most difficult line I had skied at the time.  The line included an over hanging snow field above heavy exposure and funneled down into mandatory 25 foot air.  The air happened to drop into a much smaller chute/straight line than I had expected, but I stuck it and proved to myself that I could ski in the Alps with Europeans.

            The competition ended and my line skied into second place, but it also developed a love for competing in the Alps.  After the competition, all the talk was about the Verbier O’Neill Extreme.  The O’Neill Extreme is an invite only competition that includes some of the biggest names in the ski industry.  Jeremy Jones, Schroeder Baker, and Jen Ashton to name a few of the competitors that have had the honor to compete in this competition.  The O’Neill not only features the best riders,

the competition takes place on one of the most challenging faces I have ever seen, the Bec de Rosses.  Since learning about the O’Neill extreme, it has been one of my goals to compete on the Bec de Rosses. 

Two years passed before I finally received my invitation.  In September of 2007, I received an email while I was in Argentina.  The email stated that because of my results last season, IFSA World Tour Champion and US Freeskiing National Champion, I was invited to compete on the Freeride World Tour.  The FWT included four stops; Mammoth, Russia, France, and the finals would be at the O’Neill Extreme.  I couldn’t believe it, not only was I invited to compete in the O’Neill Extreme, but I was also going to Russia. 

 

Krasnaya Poliana, Russia

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Krasnaya Poliana is the most developed ski resort in Russia.  It is located one hour from Sochi, Russia and borders the Black Sea.  Sochi, Russia has been proposed for the 2014 Olympics.  The resort has been called the “Courchevel” of Russia.  The most illustrious of Russian’s travel to Sochi for ski vacations, including President Putin.  I couldn’t wait to check it out.

On January 31st my husband, Eric Seymour, and I landed in Sochi, Russia.  After the usual travel mishaps, we walked off the plane and were so happy to see a small man holding a sign that read FWT.  We climbed into his van and we were on our way.  After one of the most terrifying rides of my life, Russian’s drive faster than Mexicans with less regard for oncoming traffic, we arrived at our Hotel Vertykal.

Hotel Vertykal 

All of the competitors were at the hotel and had amazing stories about how cool the resort was.  The next morning we were up at and ready to check out the resort.  This was the first time we learned that not everything in Russia is as it seems.  We were told that there would be a shuttle ready to take us to the resort at 8:30.  All of us were ready and waiting for the driver at 8:15.  The shuttled pulled in at about 9:45 and we were off to the resort.

Drew Tabke at Hotel Vertykal 

 

We piled out of the bus and Eric went directly to the ticket window.  Doing his best to buy a ticket from a woman who spoke zero English, Eric finally figured out that the resort does not accept credit cards or US cash.  So we set off to find an ATM machine.  We were able to find three ATM machines, none of which worked.  At this point, we were to say the least frustrated.  Being in a foreign country with no money is a bit of a vulnerable feeling.

 This is an interesting side note about the Sochi area.  No one accepts credit cards, not the resort, not the restaurants, not even hotels.  There is only one working cash machine in the greater Sochi area.  This cash machine works well, but only allows you to withdraw $300 US dollars a day.  So before you head to Sochi, get cash, Rubles, in Moscow. 

 On our way up the lifts

With Rubles in our pockets, we finally loaded the lift at 12:00.  To reach the top of Krasnaya Poliana, you must take a series of slow two man lifts.  This takes about forty-five minutes.  There was plenty of time to check out the breath taking scenery.  The mountain range comes up directly from the sea, which you can see on a clear day.  The range towers up to 3000 meters and almost everything looks skiable.

 Almost to the top

 At the top of the resort is a ridgeline with some of the burliest in bounds skiing I have ever scene; 55 degree spines and pillow drops.  We headed straight up there.  The top bowl is about 1000 feet of sick skiing and funnels down into 4000 feet of the best tree skiing I have ever done.  The trees are deciduous and perfectly spaced.  The snow is maritime snow, like the snow you find in Washington.  We were in heaven.  As the day came to end, we skied down to the base of the resort to wait for our not so timely bus driver.  We waited about a half hour watching two Russian men with pet monkeys convince tourists to take photos with the monkeys.  We decided it might be a while, so met up with some of the other competitors for a coffee while we waited.

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The hospitality in Russia is unforgettable.  We sat at an outdoor café sipping coffee and talking about how we would all like to move to Sochi.  Two of the most beautiful women I have ever seen walked out wearing fur bikinis and boots.  The boys’ heads turned and their jaws dropped.  The two Russian women walked up to us with trays of three different types of vodka.  She smiled gesturing for us to take one.  We couldn’t believe it, beautiful women, dressed in fur, and serving free vodka shots.  As “true” travelers, we couldn’t pass up this cultural experience.  Everyone took a shot.  It was the best vodka I have tasted.  Russian vodka is infused with all types fruit; my personal favorite was the plum vodka.  After the shot it is customary to eat a salted pickle.  And it actually tastes really good.  We were stoked.  Russia was turning out to be a skiers dream.  To our surprise the women kept returning with more vodka shots, apparently there is no limit on the amount of free shots in the base area.  Needless to say we missed our shuttle.

 The competition was scheduled for Monday, which was one day away.  All of the competitors gathered for a meeting with the organizers.  At the meeting, we learned that President Putin was in town with Olympic Committee and he had grounded all air travel in the mountain range.  This was not good for a heli competition.  Due to the grounding of all air travel, the competition would be held in bounds at the top of the resort.  This new information did not bother the competitors because the top of the resort was sick.  The next bit of information was what was alarming.  Not only would there be no heli skiing for the next week, there would be no heli rescue.  This means that if a competitor should be hurt in the competition, with a life threatening injury, it would take at least three hours to reach a hospital.  Competitors do not plan on getting hurt, but we are all there to compete in an extreme skiing competition, shit happens.

 With the new information in mind, I rode the lifts to the top of the mountain to start scouting.  There were two main features at the top of the peak.  I decided to ski the one on the left that looked like a melted candlestick.  It looked kind of gnarly, but very doable and the risk was not very high.  If for some reason I did take a tumble, I was confident I would not get hurt.  I took multiple photos of my line and headed back to hotel to download them on to my computer.

The line I skied for the competition           

Competition morning we woke up at 5:30.  The organizers wanted us to load at 6:30 because there was weather coming in and they wanted finish the competition by noon.  I put on my ski clothing and headed down for breakfast.  Breakfast was always an adventure because it was included and you ate what you were served.  This morning we sat down to a “breakfast of champions”, cold hotdogs and rice.  After a delicious Russian breakfast we headed for the resort.

 I rode the lifts to the very top of the resort and was so excited to ski my line.  I hiked down to scope the top of my line.  This would be the first time I had seen it from the top.  FWT rules state that no skier shall ski the venue one month prior to the competition.  Therefore, the only scouting you can do is with a camera.  The snow looked great, the entrance was a bit steeper than I had expected, but nothing I couldn’t handle.  I studied my entrance and memorized each turn I expected to make.  Next I began to warm up and started to focus on the competition.  While I was stretching and focusing, many competitors approached me and asked me what I planned on skiing.  I felt like I was in Verbier all over again.  The response from the other women was that I must be off my rocker to ski that line.  After all that was a “guys’” line.  So much for a confidence booster.  Once again I had to resort to my inner pep talk, “You can do this Jess.  It’s not any steeper than the top of Once is Enough.  And if something goes wrong, you will be fine.  You got it!”

 I dropped into my line with confidence.  A number of men had already skied the line, so the snow was really skied up and difficult to ski fluidly.  There was a lot of slough moving and my heart was racing.  I skied down to the choke and dropped a 20-foot cliff into a tight straight line.  I was so stoked when I skied through the finish line.  I had just skied the hardest line of my life.  I knew I hadn’t skied as well as I had hoped, but I was psyched that I had skied it.  It was the hardest female line skied that day.  I finished third in the competition.

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I spent the last three days in Russia with a photographer, Stas from Moscow, who works for a Russian ski magazine, “SKI PASS.”  It is the equivalent to “Powder” in the US.  We spent two long days working hard to get shots for the magazine.  At the end of the two days he asked if we had been to a Russian spa yet.  We looked at him as if he were crazy.  We were here to ski, not to go to spas.  He returned our look and said that if we had not yet been to a Russian spa, then we had not yet experienced Russia.  Who knew that Russia was known for its spas?  We decided we had to go.

Fish Pond at the bottom of the resort 

Stas told us he would take us to the best spa in the area.  So we invited a few friends, hopped in a van, and headed for the spa.  We pulled into a dark alley located in a pretty sketchy looking area.  The van stopped in front of an old brick building that had two large wooden doors with graffiti on them.  The graffiti was apparently the number you call to make an appointment for the spa.  So we called.  We were told to come back in two hours because it would take that long to get the spa ready.  Stas seemed to think all of this was normal, we decided to get some dinner and return in few hours.

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As we returned the spa, the anxiety level was high.  Everyone was joking about the movie, “The Hostel.”  If you like to travel don’t rent this movie.  If you have seen the hostel, the “spa” could have been right out of the movie. The van dropped us off in the sketchy area.  We knocked on the wooden doors putting all of our faith in our new Russian friend.  Five minutes later a woman cracked the door and said hello.  Stas said something in Russian and the doors swung open.

 Another beautiful women appeared and ushered us down an intricate path of stonework surrounded by exotic flowers.  Visions of the movie circled my head as I followed the woman.  She showed us to a changing room and instructed us to take off all of our clothing and put on the robes that had been laid out for us. We undressed and walked out to the waiting room.  The waiting room was very comfortable.  The women had set out tea and snacks.  Was this our last meal? 

 We sat quietly wondering what we had gotten ourselves into.  Two women came into the room dressed in native clothing, leather bikinis fringed with fur.  They asked us if we were ready for the sweat lodge.  We followed them outside to a small sweat lodge, more like a very small beaver lodge.  We took our robes off and crawled into the lodge.  It was very small and dark.  We sat around a small fire on a bed of straw.  One of the women began to play an instrument that sounded like didgeridoo.  The other woman began to stoke the fire.  The temperature began to rise and rise.  It was so hot that it was difficult to breath.  I can’t decide if the experience was religious or one of the most intense games of uncle I have ever played.  Imagine seven competitive athletes in a sweat lodge; no one is going to be the first to say uncle.  As the temperature rose, it was hard to breath and I had to focus to keep myself awake.  Just when I thought I was going to pass out, the musician stopped playing and the door opened.  We slithered out of the door into the fresh air.  A large Russian man was waiting for us and escorted us to a cold pool. 

 We were then escorted back to the tearoom.  The next spa treatment was a massage.  I was the first to sign up.  Two Russian giants escorted me into a very small room made of clay and straw.  The room felt at least 120 degrees.  I guess Russians like it hot.  In the middle of the room was a wooden table.  They gestured for me to take off my robe and lay on the table.  I did so.  The men took off their robes and were dressed in loincloths.  What had I signed myself up for?

 I laid face down on the wooden table, which was close to the temperature of the room, hot.  The man touched my shoulder and said, “honey and beer? “  Not having any clue what he was talking about, I said sure.  I like both honey and beer.  The “massage” began.  The two first slathered my body in honey.  Then they beat me with birch branches and I really mean beat.  I thought I would have war wounds if I survived my Russian massage.  Next they took my leg and pulled them up behind my ears.  I had no idea I was that flexible.  To finish the “massage” the men dumped gallons of cold beer of my body. 

 I knew the massage was over when they picked me up off they table and stood me on my feet.  To my surprise my legs felt like jelly.  After being manhandled by two giants, I had no muscle control left.  One of the Russians carried me outside to what looked like a well with a ladder on the side of it.  He said jump in.  I started for the ladder and then he gave me a small push and I was in the freezing cold water of the well.  All my senses came back immediately and I shrieked.  I scurried up the ladder and into the laughing Russians arms.  He escorted me to the coolest hot tub I have ever experienced.  The best way to describe the hot tub is to say that it looked like a witches cauldron, suspended above an open fire.  The best way to describe how I felt in the hot tub is to say that I felt like I had returned to my mother’s womb.

 Needless to say a Russian spa is nothing like an American spa, but it is a must do in Russia.  Russia was an amazing experience that I would recommend to anyone.  It is so different from any other place I have ever been. 

 Eric’s first Russia potato

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