Here are Day One and Day Two, if you’re looking for them. Spoiler alert: Today’s post is sponsor heavy, as our partners made the weekend far cooler than it would have been without them. Thanks, sponsors. You are nice.

Our last day at Broad Summit was a spa day, so we started things off with a yoga session led by Gwen Bell.

Gwen was an attendee who also happens to own a yoga studio in Japan. She said this was the only yoga session she’d ever led where she received applause afterward.

Zicam sponsored our yoga, and their representative Kelly has quite an eye. She knew it was a designy crowd, so she brought the yoga mats, set up the towels and pre-filled water bottles, and made everything look so pretty. I brought the Buddha head from home, and Kelly found a cute place for him. (More about the pretty yoga session over on Design Mom, by the way.)

Throughout the weekend, DDF Skincare asked if they could set up personalized facial consultations for everyone.

They had us fill out forms in advance so they could bring specialized products, and then had an aesthetician go through a skincare regimen for each woman. DDF’s products are really high end, so we all tended to gather around when each girl came back with her bag.

My sister Raina is a masseuse at the Fairmont Mission Sonoma Inn & Day Spa, so she brought along a few co-workers to give massages in the Boon Hotel spa rooms. Lots of the guests had never had massages before. As you might imagine, they were a hit.

Boon catered our breakfasts and lunches for the weekend, and everything was as tasty as it was attractive. They made things really easy for us.

We asked Boon to set out a lunch buffet just before everyone left so girls could enjoy lunch outside or take a boxed lunch along for the drive to the airport.

(Photo by Jenny Lawson.)

With Toyota’s help, all the attendees had access to cars all weekend, so we were able to set up carpools on the way to and from the airport instead of having a million separate vehicles.

(Photo by Jenny Lawson.)

I like to think that everyone felt so pampered that by the time they left, they had more energy than when they arrived. I love these girls. They deserve good stuff.

One of the happiest parts of organizing the retreat was working with Eric Rewitzer of 3 Fish Studios. Eric and his wife Annie Galvin (who is also an artist) are friends I met through Evany years ago.

Eric made us these lovely limited edition linocut prints to commemorate the weekend, and took a few photos of the process for me.

California iconography is a running theme for 3 Fish Studios:

(Update: Oops. My original upload contained some similar work by Annie, these are Eric’s prints.)

When I told Eric we were staying in a redwood forest, he already had a few photos of redwoods he’d taken as inspiration. He even surprised us by hand coloring the prints.

They were so lovely, we decided to use them as favors instead of adding them to the gift bag. If you’d like to learn to make your own and you’re near the Bay Area, 3 Fish Studios offers linocut printmaking classes pretty regularly, so drop them a note and they’ll notify you when space opens up. Thanks again, Eric!

All right, I’ve been asleep since last Sunday.

The retreat was amazing, and exhausting, but worth every minute of planning over the last eight months. All the Broad Summit organizers love to entertain, so we incorporated lots of details.

We met up in Guerneville, CA, which is near our cabin, so I brought over my collection of vintage wool blankets. We use them at the cabin all the time, and we had a bonfire planned for the retreat, so I knew we’d need them. Bryan mocks me whenever I come home from the flea market with yet another blanket, but seeing them all stuffed into our laundry basket on the lawn was profoundly satisfying.

We got use out of them all weekend, and they smelled amazing because we store them in a cedar chest to protect against moths. When I was passing them out, I swear I heard Martha Stewart howling at the moon.

It was a small enough group that we could really personalize everything. We wanted to make sure the gift bags really felt like gifts, so before we decided how to fill them, I told Laura that my dream was to get monogrammed totes from Land’s End. She just called and Land’s End and figured out how to make it happen, then collected guests’ initials via email. Then I proposed to her.

We spent Friday afternoon stuffing the bags (more on the gifts inside later), and when they were all set up, they looked zowie — though they do sort of evoke the image of having thirty bridesmaids. I feel slightly faint at the thought of getting that many girls to wear the same ugly dress.

Instead of hiring a caterer, we arranged for a taco truck to arrive before cocktails. For a large group, it’s a surprisingly economical.

Plus, there’s something so decadent about walking up to a window and ordering whatever you want without having to dig out your wallet.

If you’re planning a casual, fun wedding, taco trucks are the way to go. Delicious, and they make for great photos.

After tacos, we headed over to the sangria and soda pop bar. There were lots of non-drinkers and pregnant ladies in attendance, so we took inspiration from Jordan Ferney’s adorable soda bar. BevMo had a huge selection of cute pop in bottles. I called Jordan last-minute to ask where we could get striped paper straws in San Francisco, she offered to tap into her extensive personal collection. Score.

After cocktails, we all changed into our pajamas for a Milk and Cookies PJ Party by the bonfire.

A few days earlier, we found this milk-carton vase at CB2. Perfect.

Cookies were from Annie the Baker, who makes cookies for folks who would prefer to eat straight cookie dough. (Peanut butter. Order the peanut butter.) We also had a selection from Bountiful Vegan, because we were hosting women with all kinds of food preferences and allergies.

We pulled over the chaise loungers from the pool area, wrapped up in blankets, and used the milk to mix White Russian nightcaps in our coffee mugs. It was very Prohibition.

If you’d like to see more, Jean Aw took some gorgeous photos of the bonfire and hotel over on NOTCOT. More details from me Monday, have a good weekend.

This is what bloggers look like when you drag us, mewling, from the soft glow of our computer screens and into the light of day. The Broad Summit was ludicrous fun.

So last week, before the paragliding fiasco, I went zip-lining. Melissa and I were supposed to go in Puerto Rico, but then one of you mentioned in comments that there was a newish operation nearby in Santa Cruz. I decided I’d rather zipline through Redwoods, so we signed up with Mount Hermon.

I called Evany to see if she wanted to come along.

- Do you want to go zip-lining with me?
- What?
- Wanna go zip-lining in Santa Cruz?
- Is this a life list thing?
- Yes.
- What does zip-lining entail?
- I do not know.
- Hmm. I don’t know if I can be away from Desi for the day, I’m nursing.
- Bring the baby. We’ll strap him to you.
- OK.

Then the folks at Mount Hermon were all, “You cannot strap a newborn baby to you while you’re zip-lining six stories above the ground.” And we were all over Twitter like, “MT. HERMON HATES BABIES!”

Oh, but I kid. Evany’s husband Marco came along for baby support, so Evany could feed Desi and still live life on her own terms. Boo-yah.

She fed the baby, and then Max and Jon (our instructors) strapped us into our harnesses. That may be the kinkiest sentence I’ve ever typed.

I was impressed by Evany’s willingness to do something so daring right after going through labor. New moms tend to be mortality aware, and Desi was very concerned for our well being.

Speaking of mortality, let’s revisit the six-stories-up concept. Once again, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I pictured some roadside operation with a little cable strung between two trees, and people zooping back and forth ten feet off the ground. Zoop. Zoop! Sort of like the training course, but slightly higher.

I realize my ignorance has become a running theme with these sportier adventures, and my reasoning is thus: If I were to research these things beforehand, I would not go. I’d simply spend a few weeks obsessing over what could go wrong, and I’d eventually decide adventures were for stupid people. Then I’d snuggle up with a down comforter to read back issues of The New Yorker until I grew old and withered — which sounds rather pleasant, actually.

At any rate, that’s how I found myself on a platform contemplating the surprising chasm below. Surprise!

Actually, it doesn’t look as threatening in the photo, but that’s only because you can’t see the giant teeth lining the edges. In real life, it looks more like this:

Intellectually I knew I was safe. They let ten-year-olds zip-line, because it’s difficult to seriously damage yourself. At every point, you’re double-hooked to cables so strong that they’d shear an old-growth redwood in half before they snapped. I was safe, but my spine begged to differ. My spine thought we should go find a nice glass of warm milk and see what was on the History Channel.

I peeked over the edge of the platform.

If I hadn’t signed a contract with Intel saying I wanted to do this (for fun! for kicks!), if Evany had not been equally terrified but holding her ground, it’s possible I would have walked away.

Instead, my medulla was throbbing like a dental drill. I tried to fight the vertigo with Zenlike thoughts. I am well. I am healthy. I am whole. I am plummeting to my death.

Evany went first, and I couldn’t watch. When Max told me the line was clear, I closed my eyes, let out a low whine, and stepped off the edge.

I could feel the wind on my face and hear the cord humming, so I peeked to see my feet dangling above the abyss. Bad idea. I closed my eyes.

About half way across I started to relax. I felt strangely light, like I was flying. It was exceptional. I opened my eyes again and my keening turned into laughter.

Then the next platform was heading at me like a bullet, so I grabbed the cable with my hand and stopped a few feet shy. I had to do what they call a self rescue, which involves dangling with your back to a chasm while you pull yourself hand over hand to the next platform. It’s a treat.

There were six or seven lines on the course, plus an air bridge, and after that first zip, both Evany and I relaxed considerably. I felt the most vertigo and distress on the platforms, perhaps because my brain kept trying to balance so I wouldn’t “fall.”

Every time I left the platform, I had to disregard my terror. I felt my heart in my mouth, swallowed it, and stepped off the edge. Once I was moving, my body understood the physics involved, and I could fly. Evany said, “Next time, we should bring capes.”

The day made me braver, and more secure in my ability to tell the difference between actual risk and perceived risk. I have never been so afraid of something — with the possible exception of labor — and done it anyway. If you’re anywhere near a zip-line, I hope you’ll try it. It will change your subconscious.

Here’s to fewer falling nightmares, and more flying dreams.

I’m profoundly grateful to the team at Intel for sponsoring my Mighty Life List. They paid for this zip-lining tour, and now all of them have to go.