Stage 9

After an excellent and enjoyable day off in Hohenschwangau (Russ went to an Internet cafe, Bea and Arnulf to the Schwansee to sun and swim, Peter and Sally to the Wieskirche and the church in Rottenbuch, I had lunch with Claudia, an old friend who lives in Fuessen, then Sabine and Michael arrived for Kaffee und Kuchen, Lidia showed up, Peter came down from watching the French Grand Prix, and we all talked for a while as we had done in the morning, then Bea and Arnulf and Peter and Sabine and Michael and Claudia all left, and the remaining five of us had dinner and went to bed early), today was not as good, primarily because it rained all day.

We started the day off slowly, since Russ and I needed to go into Fuessen to see if we could find someone who could reinforce the wristbands of our hiking poles (something about the two of us -- weight, maybe? -- was causing them to break with depressing regularity (i.e., every 3 days or so)).

We found someone who could fix them, but only by the end of the day, so we had to plan to get to Falkenstein by 5:30 so I could take a taxi back to Fuessen to pick them up (such are the absurdities of the H2H).

We set off at 11AM, had an uninspiring lunch at the Hotel Alatsee, and finally arrived at our hotel at around 5:30PM for a hiking time of 5.5 hours. The day was supposed to take only 4.5 hours, but the rain made descents slippery and sapped our wills on the uphills. On the plus side, we saw lots of salamanders (Molche).

The ponchos worked well for Lidia and me, although my propensity to sweat overwhelmed somewhat the natural ventilation. The pack stayed dry, however, and I only got cold when I went bareheaded (oddly enough in order to cool off :-).

The hotel, Schlossanger Alp, seems very nice, and the rooms are large, comfortable, and heated (which will help us dry our boots and clothes tonight).

Russell was a hero today: he offered to come with me to Fuessen to pick up the reinforced and repaired wristbands. When I said that it wasn't necessary for both of us to go, he said that we should play rock/scissors/paper for the privilege. And then he purposefully lost (it is possible :-). He said after that he didn't feel as if I should always be the one who had to take care of everything. Is that a nice brother or what? And then Sally said she would go with him (same comment about girlfriend).

The weather report this morning said the next couple of days are supposed to be rainy too, but I'm holding out hope that they will have changed their minds by tomorrow.

Carcassonne and dinner call....

Stage 8

Well, the Kenzenhuette was an interesting experience. Unlike the Puerschlinghaus (where we stayed the night before), it at least had showers. However, also unlike the Puerschlinghaus, it was full (because it was Friday night), which meant that we were assigned one room for the five of us (three normals and two snorers), in which were to be found only three beds. Now, it must be admitted that the beds were slightly wider than standard beds... but not by much.

My logic machine kicked into high gear: ok, Russ and Sally in one bed, that's clear, now, who is the widest person left? Me? Well, then it only makes sense for the other two (Dave and Richard) to double up, and I'll just have to sleep alone :-). Anyway, since I can't sleep when people snore, I figured I'd be suffering enough as it was.

In point of fact, however, I slept like a lamb. The reason was three-fold. First, Sally kindly inserted my earplugs correctly so that I could hear almost nothing. Second, Russ kindly gave me some Benadryl to knock me out. And lastly, and probably most importantly, the two snorers kindly exerted themselves so as to sleep on their sides rather than their backs, and as a result apparently did not snore. At least, the one time I was awake for more than a few seconds during the night, they were not snoring. Much appreciation is hereby duly noted.

We set off at 7:40, climbing immediately up to and over the Kenzensattel, and then shortly thereafter to the hole in the rock known as the Fensterl. The weather was cool, but the climb steep enough so that I proudly noted a new maximal sweat line on the brim of my H2H hat.

By the time we reached the top a stiff breeze had come up and it was much colder. So much so that when we stopped for lunch on the Kraehe (first time over 2000m!) everyone put on multiple additional pieces of clothing. Sally's delightful pink / purple knitted hat should receive special mention at this point.

We didn't stay long, pushing to descend by a path marked with the same "Nur fuer geuebte" (only for experts) sign that we had been seeing for the last several days. I can report that legs stiff with cold can transform a regular goober path into a truly challenging climb!

Shortly, after, while heading down to the Niederstraussberg Sattel we heard in the distance someone disturbing the peace by yelling through the pristine mountain air. It is amazing the lack of consideration that sopme people have these days, isn't it?

Then Sally says, I think they are saying my name. And Dave says, I think I heard Russell's name too. And I say, well, if it is Russell and Sally, then it is Bea and Arnulf... and it was. They had come up the Tegelbergbahn and hiked towards us, just like they had done a week earlier in Bad Toelz. I think it was very nice of them to let us know they were there long before we met them, no? Grin. Once again, a lovely surprise!

We walked on. By the time we reached the Tegelbergbahn Bergstation it was around 3PM and we had been hiking for over 7 hours with a long descent of some 900m still to go. Russell was starting to fade, and not even the consumption of an icecream (or was it a Radler Mass?) improved things. By the time we reached the bottom of the beautiful trail leading down the ridge to the Marienbruecke, with spectacular views of Schloss Neuschwanstein (the Disney Castle, for those who haven't been there) and the picture-perfect landscape around Fuessen, he was moving at about half normal speed.

We arrived at the Schlosshotel Lisl in Hohenschwangau at around 7PM, some 11+ hours after starting in the morning. Welcoming us was our uncle Peter, who had booked us lovely rooms in the Jaegerhaus annex. After a short break to shower and change we had a long, lusty, and excellent dinner, during which Russell recovered remarkably. Around 11 we wandered off to bed, all, I think, well satisfied with the day.

One last thing: Dave left us to return to the US in the middle of dinner, and we will sorely miss him. Our first guest hiker, our first (and most prolific!) photographer, as well as the best hiking companion you can imagine (never complaining, always watching out for others, fit as a fiddle, albeit with an odd run / stop hiking style and a tendency to snore when sleeping on his back :-), it was a pleasure and an honor to hike with you, Dave! We look forward to seeing you at the end of the H2H for another few days of hiking if you can swing it with your employers back in the US.

And that was that. The next day was to be another rest day. I heard no complaints about the plan, for a change :-).

Stage 7

Another day, another beautiful hike: from the Puerschlinghaus to the Kenzenhuette. For the first time, I think, we did exactly what I had planned without unexpected alterations or delays, and so I was able to get a better feeling for our hiking speed: what I did last year in 6 hours, we did in 6 hours 10 minutes... which is for all intents and purposes identical when you take into account the group delay factor caused by us being five people instead of last year just me.

It was an unfortunately eventful day for Russell and me, with a couple of nasty moments. I was first: when walking along a narrow path on a steep mountainside above Linderhof I caught my foot on an oddly projecting root and was launched off the path downhill. I think I must have been at least six feet above the ground at one point and Dave, who caught a glimpse concurs

I was extremely fortunate in several ways. First, I must have cat genes: I turned in the air to keep my feet under me and to land on my haunch, then immediately turned further on the bounce so as to land the second time on my front, which allowed me to quickly arrest my fall. I still ended up over a dozen feet down the slope, but that was far better than it could or would have been had I landed on my head or had I started cartwheeling.

Second, there were no rocks where I landed, so I survived with just a couple of scrapes (and, a bit of a back-ache that showed up the following morning, so perhaps I pulled a muscle or two when I landed).

Third, at the point I fell there was a grassy slope, but at many other points along that path there were rocks and trees or even vertical cliffs. It was a sobering reminder of how quickly things can go wrong when you are walking in the mountains.

One odd minor side-point: about a minute later when I was telling the others what happened one of them said, "Your heart must be pounding!", so I checked my pulse: standard for hiking at perhaps 100 -- it didn't seem to have affected me at all. I'm not sure if that says good things or bad things about me, but it sure is interesting.

Next Russell. About five minutes later Russell was climbing above and over a large fallen tree that was blocking the path, slips, and slides down into protruding branch stumps, narrowly avoiding getting impaled and reaping an impressive set of bloody scratches on his arm for his effort. Later he was, in a much more dangerous place on top of a narrow ridge, to repeat my stumble, but he managed to catch himself at the last moment before he went off the trail.

I wouldn't say that either of us were pushing the pace faster than we should have done; it was just momentary inattention and poor decision making. As I said, sobering, but ultimately no serious harm done. Nevertheless I will change the H2H site after this hike is done to note that this day's path should not only be avoided if the weather is bad, but also if anyone hiking it is inexperienced: there are some vertiginous stretches that were, according to the team, significantly more difficult than the Klettersteig up Kofel that we did the day before.

Other than that, we had a great day. I think, and Dave, with whom I have had a running joke of responding to his "Man, it is so beautiful here" comments with "It is going to get better", concurs, that each day has been better than the last in terms of the countryside and the trails.

At one point we heard a couple of loud and insistent "caws" from a raven flying nearby, and when we looked at him he curved back to pass us and demonstratively did two 180 degree barrell rolls. Yes, he actually flew on his back for a few seconds, then flipped back rightside up, then did it again. Jonathon Livingston Raven in the flesh. We applauded, which must have pleased him, because the following day we saw what must have been the same bird and he did exactly the same thing.

Last thought for the day: I caught myself wondering at one point when it would start to feel real. I've lived with the idea of doing the H2H for such a long time, and in fact hiked from Bad Toelz to Hohenschwangau last year, that there is a pervasive aura of deja vu about the whole thing, as if I can't quite believe that I'm now really hiking. In addition,it is still so early in the hike that it doesn't feel like we have done anything really yet.

I wonder when I'll feel like I have really achieved something? Not, perhaps, until Montreux, which I have for long regarded as a "reward" stop, when we get a couple of free days and will eat and stay (if possible), in some very fine hotels and restaurants. A reward implies achievement, and moreover we will by then have done 40 stages, so perhaps that is why it feels that only then will it be real....

Russell's Third Post

Yet another communication from the twilight zone known as Russell's stream of conciousness...
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Stardate 1.06 THE REST DAY - oh frabjous day callooo callay! A rest day has been granted! My brother is the wizard bearing fireworks!Wheelchair access everywhere is necessary as I am unable to ambulate more than to the toilet from the bed. Like a rickety pensioner, I hobble to breakfast whereupon pork and fruit are masticated. My feet though balloon-like upon going to bed, have decreased to merely a US size 14 (UK 13) ie. 2 sizes overswollen. We have come to rest in the most gorgeous town of Oberammagau, a unique yet classic bavarian town. Our hotel neatly situated in the center affords minimal excursion distances for the wounded. I have a few tasks. To cleanse clothes, to translate for Sally's purchasing adventures, and to frequent an internet cafe to post some blogs into the whirling electron storm of the website. These things done, I embark upon an anesthetic quest on the good ship Radler! Known throughout the world for it's healing benefits, it's wonderful flavors, and it's ref
reshing liquidyness, the Radler is known by other names: Shandy, Alsterwasser, Panache; however, you might never have tasted this half-half mixture of lemonade and beer, as the lemonade used in Europe is not available in the US (if you are reading this as an Amerikanos) -not really lemonade, more like Sprite but less sweet and less limey, it creates a beery drink that can be quaffed in nanoseconds. I have graduated from drinking in half liter quantities to the full adult portion of the MassKrug, one intense full liter. Seconds later one orders a second. To order liquids in this quantity generates a knowing grin from waitstaff personnel. They know you are very thirsty, they suspect you might have an ethanol habit, and they are aware that the toilets will soon be vigorously a-flushing. After hiking for days and miles, even on a rest day the body is in water defecit. T'would be intelligent to drink pure water, replenishing the body and mind, achieving once again a healthy balance for
the trials to come. Less than bright is to consume vast quantities of Radler-juice. This fools the body into thinking it has a revitalizing positive fluid balance, whereas really you're just feeding the liver empty ethanol carbs, drinking lots of sugary lemonade, and achieving a negative fluid balance as the beer acts as a diuretic, not offset by the lemonade component. Drunkenly dehydrated, you pruneishly order too much pork for dinner in the form of a pig knuckle or a schweinebraten, and the next day's grumpiness is guaranteed. I look at my companions and realize I am the only one consuming alcohol. I worry for them as don't they know misery loves company? I hope that tomorrow's hike is without distance or grade.
STARDATES 1.07-1.09 Gollum once again reporting. These days see me moving at an ever slower pace. I have found that to offset injury, one can learn much from the snail. The slower you move, the less likely you are to run into anything. Everything can be reasonably evaluated over time, and avoided if problems might arise therefrom. Each day's hike sees successively increasing distances, and as such, my dismay and pain grows commensurately. I like days of perhaps one or two hours hiking, interspersed with numerous rest stops, a couple of second breakfasts, some more breaks,
a lunch, and then the intermittent mountain-top restaurant with panoramic views and liters of radler-juice. How one is to get to the mountain top with such little hiking is a time-space dilemma I cannot delve into here. We H2H through-hikers have agreed to the tenet of utilizing no mechanical transportation en route. I begin to regret this foolhardy agreement, as I find that each mountain-top restaurant is serviced by a reliable, rapid, vista-exposing, yet sadly mechanical, gondola. Perhaps I would have been better served with a less absolute approach towards modes of transportation. The feet are a sore substitute for the wheel. Heck, a ride down from the top in a two man paraglider wouldn't be cheating would it? Sadly, the answer is yes, and my quadriceps feel as heavy and as leaden as a snail's shell as I descend the endless millions of meters on day 9 down into the crazy Ludwig II town of HohenSchwangau. www.photocase.com/de/photodetail.asp?i=68578 or google under pictures for
Neuschwanzstein. If you are ever here, you will find my snail sweat trail embedded into the path down to and beyond the castle into town.
There will be a rest day tomorrow; therefore, no murder has to occur tonight. As the weakest member of the hiking team, I must always consider taking myself out of the equation as this incessant slowing of the pace of others' will way heavily upon them over time.

Stage 6

After a rest day yesterday in Oberammergau, today's hike was relatively short -- only about 9km,+900m, -180m. It was supposed to take around four hours, but in fact it took somewhat longer since we were in no hurry. But first a few words about the rest day in Oberammergau.

Russ and Sally went looking for replacement / better hiking gear in the morning... and appear to have found it. Sally finally found a rucksack that fitted her, as well as new (slightly larger) hiking boots and orthotics to address her Morton's Neuroma problems -- the result, for the first time on the H2H a pain-free day. Russ bought himself a thin pair of socks and wore only them instead of 2 to 3 pairs simulataneously: the result being that his ankle rash seemed to get better.

In fact, today was the first day that both of them seemed to be having a really good time. As Dave put it: up until now their body language said that they weren't sure that they either would be able to or would want to finish the hike, but today that changed. A turning point? Let's hope so.

On my side today was less brilliant. My Morton's reasserted itself, and I developed a muscle strain my left thigh out of the blue that by the end of the day was giving me some real trouble. 3 ibuprofen solved it for this evening, but I'm a little nervous about the 6 hour hike tomorrow.

Back to Oberammergau: I spent the morning learning poetry and blogging, then the afternoon largely on the phone in a board conference call for one of the companies I'm involved with. Lidia and Madeleine arrived around 2PM and we had lunch together, then they played a couple of games with Russ and Sally before going off to play Minigolf with Richard (who had spent the rest of the day on errands, visiting a local friend, and together with Dave eating boundless amounts of icecream and cake). After I surfaces from my calls around 8:45 we had dinner and then played a game of Zug um Zug before turning in. As you can see, blogging about a hiking day is much simpler... at least then everyone does the same thing.

Another spectacular hike today -- including a small and easy Klettersteig up Kofel, with lunch on top while enjoying spectacular views of Oberammergau There followed a great ridge walk with vertiginous drop-offs that visibly worried Sally, and a great hut at the end: good food, funny and entertaining Wirt (owner / server), "urig" (traditional / ancient) common room, and tremendous view into the upper Ammertal. The fact that there are no showers and only one toilet for everyone sleeping upstairs dampened our spirits only marginally (in large part because it turned out that we are the only ones staying here tonight).

The weather gods continue to smile upon us: no rain, a little cooler than the last few days, a little wind, but overall great hiking weather.

Gotta sign off now: Huetten Ruehe started 7 minutes ago: time to go to bed.

Russell's Second Post

Once again my brother Russell provides more bloggy goodness... wait... I've
just read what he has written... I'm not sure that "goodness" is the right
term. It seems as if the stresses and the strains of the last few days
have seriously impacted his brain. But I'll let you form your own
impressions....

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Stardate 1.03 Lieutenant Uhura reporting

I am awoken by small nerves screaming for respite. It is arguable that I
did not sleep at all overnight. Can one call it sleep when only one eye is
shut, the other open, and one is massaging one's feet? I think not. I fear
that sleep and I will be far from companions on the days and weeks ahead.
Perhaps I will see sleep far in the distance, out-pacing me upon the hike.
I get to the hut, he is pleasantly rested and ready for more activities.
Sleep takes off for more hiking leaving me sleepless. I hate him, this
from-afar-viewed hiker named Sleep. He is invariably in front and skipping
along effortlessly. Sometimes he waits and when I catch up, low and behold,
Sleep has turned himself into one of my companions, perhaps Dave or Sally,
but some resentment towards the lack of sleep sours the interactions with
my friendly companions.

It is a high art to become the nay-sayer of a group. One provides a
necessary counterpoint to the optimistic leader. One points out the lows
and down-sides. This takes devious communication skills. Without the dark
there can be no light. It is no easy task always finding the bad in the
good. Someone has to take on this onerous yet challenging task & during
today's hiking I realize that perhaps this should be my role. I obviously
cannot be the leader as I know nothing of the what the day holds. I cannot
be the engineer as the that also requires some knowledge. Perhaps as Uhura,
I can accomplish this evil goal ? And if I am to task myself, let me do it
with aplomb and vigor! Let me make of this task real artwork, real
accomplishment, with darkly crafted nays of many days duration, artfully
woven negatives of woe and despair, downsides of supreme rot and undermining!

Such are the thoughts of he who must whine and winge, Winey Wingey Man. As
we, probably from my most negative of inputs, miss out on a hike up and
across the BenediktenWand, I realize my training regimen has been woefully
inadequate, and I have only myself to blame for the state I find myself in.
Perversely, I blame all those around me for this.

Stardate 1.04

Gollum reporting. My brother is the darklord, and I have lived a life of
torture and pain. Today we arose at around the time Bavarian birds start
the morning cacophony, earlier than I have ever been awake my entire
life. Apparently the weather is to deliver storms and lightning to us
later in the day. Ah joy. The daily breakfast ritual is a saving grace as
I can eat pork to my heart's content . I occasionally feel guilty at
breakfast. I have been consuming, on average, enough to feed a family of
four for a week or so, per breakfast. It is the feeling of well-being I
seek. A quick respite from the ever-increasing presence of a
dissatisfaction of the body.

Various parts of the body are checking in with damage reports that make it
inevitable that the starship will soon crash into the upcoming hiking path.
My forward shields ie. my ankles and feet, are down with a sock-created
pressure rash that burns like hydrofluoric acid. Note to self - take a
picture so that those who have viewed the perineal chafe achieved upon the
Sea-2-Sea hike can also be wowed by my stage eleven flesh eating
streptoccoccal macerated infuriated cellulitic lymphanigitic class Z
gangrenous ankle hamburger.

A new companion, Richard, has arrived today. He appears to be in even
better shape than most of my companions. I resent him immediately. I cannot
blame this on freshness as he too has hiked a few days to meet us. I cannot
remember the day' s torture as the pain has blotted this memory from my
brain. I do remember Richard running down the stairs the evening prior. I
learn to hate all with whom I interact. It takes many more muscles to smile
than to frown. I save energy by frowning. I hope my companions understand
this innately without explanation, as none will be forthcoming.

Stardate 1.05

GarbageScow cleaner-complainer Billy second class reporting, Sir! A new low
has been reached. It was highly evident to me during last summer's hike
across England, that I am not built for walking on the flats. My excessive
bulk flattens out the natural arch of the feet. More foot surface area on
the ground naturally creates more friction. This slows me down in
comparison to my companions. The bones of the feet, 29 in all as I recall,
each need to be in a specific position relative to one another to create a
state of dynamic tension. When the arch is squashed, the tension is no
longer present, and thus one flat-footedly smacks each foot upon the ground
successively in a parody of walking known as pain. I look like a
carpet-beater in action. I have 29 naysayers sending messages to the
intestines to take control, sit down somewhere to never move again, and
consume pork until some sensation of well being might be achieved
somatically. How am I to deny these 29 important folk their last dieing
wish prior to fracture?

Bradley's rule of hiking #230
Throw everything of any weight out of the pack as rapidly as possible.

Most important items for hiking will be carried by others and can be either
borrowed, as in toothpaste, then returned, or lent for a period of time
whilst not in use by the owner, as in shoes or underwear. I now must hike
at night and must return to the starting point each morning. Pick a very
good place to start
this practice. Seriously, a backpack of 20 kilogrammes is far too heavy.
And that's empty!

Bradley's rule of hiking #231
Water is a non-essential. Sweat and urine can be collected, and reconsumed.

Tomorrow is being named a rest day. I'd like to rest the whole rest of the
trip. I note to our fearless leader that there is no clause for escape from
this hike according to the document (Document - 200 pages long, much
history of all places to be visited, their natural history, geology,
populace, arts and crafts, points of interest, fact, statistics, etc. All
in all far too long a document for me to have taken seriously) ; he points
out, there are alternative routes listed for every day should one choose to
take them. He then points out that I will be relegated to the level of
"join-along-the-way" hiker, a much belittled entity, should I choose to
avail myself thereof. I will not give him this satisfaction. I will take
them all down with me. I must plan for the disaster.

Russell's First Post

I'll turn the blogging "pen" over to my brother Russell... whose unique
writing style will no doubt give you much to think about :-).

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Stardate 1.01 Captain's log
With the best of intentions we set off into the wild blue yonder of
Bavaria. We we`re accompanied the first couple of rainy hundred meters
along the road by close family, and some neighbours. I suspect they were
all happy to see us eventually leave as the preparations for departure had
taken days encompassing event planning, party preparation, cooking,
cleaning, cooking again, cleaning again, guest introductions, parties
(numerous), entertainment, pretense of pleasantries, suffering close family
too close for too long, and of course the fears as to would these people
ever actually get underway.
Already downcast from my loss of my brother's house key, I felt that
perhaps starting on a low note could only help me as there seemed no where
to go but up. I was wrong about this. There was to be much further down to
go as we went up, and down, and across the fields towards our first day's
destination. The family waved us away, and the ordeal was embarked upon
with good humor and well wishes.
Thanks be to God that the next major occurrence, Sally's loss of passport,
driver's license, and all the money she had changed so far (thousands? tens
of thousands? $28.50?), took me out of the perceived mental spotlight as I
had already surmised that something untoward was to occur. My subtle lack
of training the last few weeks had put me so far into the portly category
that I could be mistaken for a barge. My once proud muscularity had waned
and my bulk seemed solely to compose of sausage stuck into a human's skin
sack. For some reason, perhaps the daunting prospect of months of endless
hiking, I had been disinclined to do much hiking in preparation. The closer
the event loomed, the less I exercised. As hiking has become one of my sole
forms of exercise, taking it away left me with walking, sitting and lying
as forms of caloric consumption. Topping the scale at over 250 pounds, in
Munich, my performance anxiety fears were soon to be realized. Day 1
however proved to be physical
ly easily accomplished, and the pork I ate for dinner erased all worries as
to overweightedness - food steers blood away from the brain as it brings on
the sensation of satiety. Who can worry when one is full?

Stardate 1.02 First Engineer Scott reporting
Mutiny on the Bounty is essential reading for all hikers. Or please refer
to the recent hit movie, Pirates of the Carribbean. One has expectations as
to the day's hike, and more often than not, these expectations cannot be
met. I was looking forward to a pleasant stroll through the Bavarian hills,
with happy fresh-faced farm folk waving to us and perhaps offering fresh
milk warm from the teat, or a choice pork sausage recently stuffed. Sadly,
as the bulk from my recent zealous "eating with abandon" philosophy of
preparation made itself known to my feet and legs, the path seemed to
stretch further and further in front. I naturally only had myself to blame
for my feelings as to this day's hike. In an effort to get as far away from
all that I know, and practice, as possible, I had once again put myself
solely into my brother's capable hands. To release oneself from
responsibility might be the goal of every vacationing physician, as we are
too often responsible for the lives of all of
those who seek our help professionally. So, in my warped mind, this means
knowing absolutely nothing about what the day holds in terms of distance,
route, destination, weather, etc. I thus travel as the happy idiot, eager
to follow, an elephant holding the tail of the beast in front, wandering
gaily, free from intrusive worry or concern. Somehow much to my chagrin,
loud concerns were raised by various body parts, and as the day stretched
from, when inquired as to length, some few hours, to some few more hours, I
felt betrayed from both within and without.
It is inadvisable to purchase boots on T-1 day of a hike. I know this now.
I must write all the rules of hiking that I discover along the way to help
the future H2H hikers.
I wonder if I turned off the stove back in SLC?