check out my new project:
http://my-unemployment-challenge.blogspot.com/
i promise, i'll write the last post for this one soon.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
that just about does it.
my hair was still wet from the shower, a post-hike shower where your suntan becomes two shades lighter because the layers of dirt and sweat and ash wash off, when i headed off to another trail head with my friend max. max is one of the youngest members on staff at sixteen, though you would never know it. he works in the kitchen and is a firm believer in tie-dyed clothing and bandannas. "maxell", as i called him, had asked me a few weeks before if him and i could go on a two-man hike one weekend if he did all the preparatory work. i agreed quickly and that was that.
our hike began a few miles west of camp on a trail, but we soon left the comfortable dirt path and started what was to become one ankle-breaking, off-trail adventure. thanks to a mind numbing, multi-hour, end of the week debriefing, we didn't get started until 7pm. we began going up a hill, which turned out to be a foothill to a bigger hill, which turned out to be the base of an even-larger mound of rock, etc: the hillsides were steep enough to prevent us from seeing whether we were near the top. after just under one hour of going up the hill, our assumed path had us go straight ahead, but on the steep side of a big hill covered in nothing but small boulders. so steep was the path, that whichever foot was on the downhill side was two feet below its counterpart.
i am not good at maps. i had hoped that through the course of the summer, a summer where my life depending partly on me knowing where i was and where i was going, nature would answer necessity's plea and i would develop a better sense of direction. this was not the case. as i said before we were off trail and it was now 8pm so we checked the map often hoping to stay on track. each time we checked we had different ideas of where we were on the map and which way we should be heading. i was sure we would spend the night, lost on a boulder, and be eaten by mountain lions by morning.
max is smart so we followed his take of the map and found our camp, as had a fleet of mosquitoes. we set up camp and went to find a good spot to make dinner. we stumbled upon the crest of a hill which stood, overlooking the river valley. we could see camp perkins five miles out, and miles of cattle-farms even farther out. we watched the sun set as we ate dinner -pan fried pizzas.
we set our alarms for 5:45am and when we woke up set our sights on macdonald peak. we packed only water and snacks for the ascent and started up. we had to climb the steepest part first -up a gravel face- until we hit the ridgeline which would take us up. we tip-toed along the narrow ridgeline; a few feet either way and you would need a hang-glider. we went up, then down into a saddle, and finally began the final assault. we hurled a few snowballs towards camp and then hit the big boulders. the last 200 yards required hands to get up.
we peaked at 9am. the weather was sunny and 70 with a warm with a breeze. burried beneath a pile of cantaloupe-sized rocks and marked by a large upright stick jutting out of the top of the pile was an old, glass, planter's peanut jar. inside was a log with entries dating back nearly 20 years. we spent some time reading the numerous messages and memories before leaving our mark. i brought to the top with me all of the mail sent to me the week before when i was out on a trip. i opened them and read them, 10,000 feet in the air. we relished in the sun and the moment, ate lunch, and headed back down. once back we had to pack our packs and head up the same gravel face we came up.
the next seven hours was the most exhausting hike i have ever been on. we went nearly 8 miles off trail. we had to descend nearly a half mile in the first two miles. we plodded down boulders and hacked our way through thick forests. we trotted through tall grasses and splashed through a river. it was hot. when we finally reached the end and were waiting for the car, we didn't even have the energy to talk. we just sat.
it was the perfect end to a summer of hiking.
at camp i showered (again) and packed my bags. after an adequate amount of begging, i was allowed to go on a day camp for the last week. utah!
i had never been to utah. it was 102 degrees when we arrived. it was also completely empty. sundays are truly rest days in the mormon capital of the world. most businesses were closed. we passed scores and scores of wards (mormon churches), some across the street from one another, all with the signature white steeple.
we met the pastor and our host family and went to red robin for dinner. when we walked in the door i saw two people in the far corner eating ice cream out of a bucket. i got their attention and asked what it was they were eating. they turned out to be employees and said that red robin policy mandated they throw out the leftover ice cream every sunday. so every sunday they made ice cream sundaes that previously i thought only existed in dreams. i found a spoon and joined in the fun.
our host family, consisting of a host mom, host dad, host sister, and host dog, were really neat people. they also lived in a very large house. it was an eight bedroom monster with so many rooms that i routinely lost my way. we finished every day with a swim in the pool and a soak in the jacuzzi. the house was built on the side of a mountain, so when you jumped off of the diving board you could look over the trees and see the salt lake city skyline beaming into the night sky. every morning we were treated to a homemade breakfast and every evening we either went to or hosted a party, meeting all sorts of interesting people. the basement, in addition to a fabulous collection of sports autographs and memorabilia, was a life-size statue of mark twain, sitting on a park bench.
but, perhaps the best part of the whole deal was the parlor where a cherry-wood baby grand piano sat. each night, before bed, we would have a concert/sing-along, at first impromptu, then later planned. the last night we packed over 20 people in there.
actual day camp was fun, too. some kids were nice, some were terrors, some were demonic. all were fun. as the new person, i did not do to much. there were enough of the others and they knew what they were doing. my duties included coloring pictures in the morning, playing piano during song time, and reading dr. seuss during nap time (which i did in a british accent).
one more...
our hike began a few miles west of camp on a trail, but we soon left the comfortable dirt path and started what was to become one ankle-breaking, off-trail adventure. thanks to a mind numbing, multi-hour, end of the week debriefing, we didn't get started until 7pm. we began going up a hill, which turned out to be a foothill to a bigger hill, which turned out to be the base of an even-larger mound of rock, etc: the hillsides were steep enough to prevent us from seeing whether we were near the top. after just under one hour of going up the hill, our assumed path had us go straight ahead, but on the steep side of a big hill covered in nothing but small boulders. so steep was the path, that whichever foot was on the downhill side was two feet below its counterpart.
i am not good at maps. i had hoped that through the course of the summer, a summer where my life depending partly on me knowing where i was and where i was going, nature would answer necessity's plea and i would develop a better sense of direction. this was not the case. as i said before we were off trail and it was now 8pm so we checked the map often hoping to stay on track. each time we checked we had different ideas of where we were on the map and which way we should be heading. i was sure we would spend the night, lost on a boulder, and be eaten by mountain lions by morning.
max is smart so we followed his take of the map and found our camp, as had a fleet of mosquitoes. we set up camp and went to find a good spot to make dinner. we stumbled upon the crest of a hill which stood, overlooking the river valley. we could see camp perkins five miles out, and miles of cattle-farms even farther out. we watched the sun set as we ate dinner -pan fried pizzas.
we set our alarms for 5:45am and when we woke up set our sights on macdonald peak. we packed only water and snacks for the ascent and started up. we had to climb the steepest part first -up a gravel face- until we hit the ridgeline which would take us up. we tip-toed along the narrow ridgeline; a few feet either way and you would need a hang-glider. we went up, then down into a saddle, and finally began the final assault. we hurled a few snowballs towards camp and then hit the big boulders. the last 200 yards required hands to get up.
we peaked at 9am. the weather was sunny and 70 with a warm with a breeze. burried beneath a pile of cantaloupe-sized rocks and marked by a large upright stick jutting out of the top of the pile was an old, glass, planter's peanut jar. inside was a log with entries dating back nearly 20 years. we spent some time reading the numerous messages and memories before leaving our mark. i brought to the top with me all of the mail sent to me the week before when i was out on a trip. i opened them and read them, 10,000 feet in the air. we relished in the sun and the moment, ate lunch, and headed back down. once back we had to pack our packs and head up the same gravel face we came up.
the next seven hours was the most exhausting hike i have ever been on. we went nearly 8 miles off trail. we had to descend nearly a half mile in the first two miles. we plodded down boulders and hacked our way through thick forests. we trotted through tall grasses and splashed through a river. it was hot. when we finally reached the end and were waiting for the car, we didn't even have the energy to talk. we just sat.
it was the perfect end to a summer of hiking.
at camp i showered (again) and packed my bags. after an adequate amount of begging, i was allowed to go on a day camp for the last week. utah!
i had never been to utah. it was 102 degrees when we arrived. it was also completely empty. sundays are truly rest days in the mormon capital of the world. most businesses were closed. we passed scores and scores of wards (mormon churches), some across the street from one another, all with the signature white steeple.
we met the pastor and our host family and went to red robin for dinner. when we walked in the door i saw two people in the far corner eating ice cream out of a bucket. i got their attention and asked what it was they were eating. they turned out to be employees and said that red robin policy mandated they throw out the leftover ice cream every sunday. so every sunday they made ice cream sundaes that previously i thought only existed in dreams. i found a spoon and joined in the fun.
our host family, consisting of a host mom, host dad, host sister, and host dog, were really neat people. they also lived in a very large house. it was an eight bedroom monster with so many rooms that i routinely lost my way. we finished every day with a swim in the pool and a soak in the jacuzzi. the house was built on the side of a mountain, so when you jumped off of the diving board you could look over the trees and see the salt lake city skyline beaming into the night sky. every morning we were treated to a homemade breakfast and every evening we either went to or hosted a party, meeting all sorts of interesting people. the basement, in addition to a fabulous collection of sports autographs and memorabilia, was a life-size statue of mark twain, sitting on a park bench.
but, perhaps the best part of the whole deal was the parlor where a cherry-wood baby grand piano sat. each night, before bed, we would have a concert/sing-along, at first impromptu, then later planned. the last night we packed over 20 people in there.
actual day camp was fun, too. some kids were nice, some were terrors, some were demonic. all were fun. as the new person, i did not do to much. there were enough of the others and they knew what they were doing. my duties included coloring pictures in the morning, playing piano during song time, and reading dr. seuss during nap time (which i did in a british accent).
one more...
Monday, August 17, 2009
let it be
Idaho is not well-known for much of anything. Idaho does not have very many people (There are twice as many people in Chicago, proper). Few know what happens in Idaho or what leaves Idaho other than potatoes (which are not as wide-spread as you might imagine). You might know that Boise is the capital city and you might recognize the distinctive/goofy footprint the state leaves on maps, but beyond those "Idaho" would make a very difficult category in Jeopardy. In case you find yourself on Jeopardy facing a category about the Gem State, you might find it useful to know that Idaho is not last in every category. More acres of land are protected in Idaho than in any other state.
Courtney was on trail during week six, so I was left to plan week seven's trip alone. The group was older than in previous trips, so I decided to try a longer trip -from the western edge of the Sawtooth National Mountain Wilderness Area to the eastern edge, in total about 25-27 miles.
I spent more time preparing for this trip than any other because of a variety of food issues. One girl who was coming had a severe gluten allergy. Gluten is found in wheat, barley, rye, and oats, as well as in many food additives. And, for those of you not well-versed in grains, we were not able to pack anything that had any flour, baking mix, pretzels, tortillas, cereal, oatmeal, granola, brownies, cake, pasta, and more. This compromised about 30-40% of the food we usually take. On top of that, a boy with a life-threatening allergy to peanuts also signed up for week seven ruling out all peanuts, peanut butter, chocolate, and granola bars. This took out another 15-25% of the food we typically packed. The final straw was a girl who was not allergic to anything but had severe pickiness disorder. There is actually no such disorder; I just made that up. But it was unbelievable. In the pre-trip interview she said in a matter-of-fact way, "I will eat bagels, peanut butter, fruit snacks, cinnamon toast crunch, and most desserts." Her food universe consisted of these things and almost exclusively of these things. Even at home, she would eat the same handful of foods for every meal, every day.
I had my work cut out for me. I had much research to do. And much praying.
I researched the two allergies online, with the cook, and read every nutrition label in the kitchen. I spent each night making some sort of food to replace the trail foods we usually rely on. I made berry fruit leather, apple fruit leather, dried bananas with honey and cinnamon, dried peaches with cinnamon and nutmeg, dried nectarines with sugar...
We ended up using a hybrid ration plan with "Gluten Girl" (as I had dubbed her for the sake of quick reference) and "Peanut Boy" each bringing a few things to pack where our resources could not meet their needs.
After a three-hour drive to the trailhead on Monday we began our hike. The weather was hot as we were on the exposed side of a mountain and, more importantly, by the end of July the summer had finally reached the Sawtooths.
Unbeknown to us at the time, the people back at camp were not fairing so well. "The Plauge" had ravaged camp the week before, infecting a multitude of campers with the most violent and most contagious stomach flu I've seen. The final tally was too high to count -the nurses quarters had to turn away kids because there was no more space. We sent a girl to the hospital. It had only gotten a hold of three or four of the counselors (as well as the cook) the week before, but over the weekend it started knocking them down, too. Danny, who was feeling fine Saturday morning found himself quarantined before lunch that day. He puked a dozen times in as many hours. Fearing I would contract it and then get sick on trail, I spend the weekend by myself in the netherlands of camp, wearing rubber gloves and carrying an aerosol can filled to the brim with virus-killing lysol. Because of my voluntary segregation, I found the time to watch Indiana Jones, Fantasia 2000, Return of Jafar and a couple other fine films.
After the first day's hike I was wondering what we could do to add a little spice to the trip. Two of the hikers had done the Ridges program last year and we found out at lunch that they had gone on the same route I had planned. Feeling bad, I was trying to think of ways to compensate.
One positive aspect of this group was that immediately, before we even left camp, they had all become friends. They needed no prodding to talk, include everyone, and for the most part, were self-sufficient. Basking in the freedom this gave us, Courtney and I decided to leave them to their own devices and we left to go up-trail to go make dinner. While we were whipping up a batch of garlic mac and cheese (using cubed cheese, not powder), two hikers stopped by. The man, who appeared to be older than us but not a day over 30, introduced himself from under his shaggy blonde hair as Jason. His hiking partner was a girl of the same age named Rose who had a mysterious looking black box strapped to the back of her pack. I asked them how long they had been hiking. Jason said four days ago, Rose just started that morning. They didn't know each other at all: they just ran into each other on trail and decided to hike together for a few days. Jason had actually been backpacking for over two months in various wilderness areas in the western US.
After dinner I went to their camp and found out that before beginning his adventures, Jason worked as a fisherman in Alaska, at a WalMart in Montana, and at jobs in Chicago and Oregon. He saved up money and then quit working. He does not know how long he'll be out. He does not know where he'll go next. He does not know where he'll end up. When his trip began back in March, he left with three friends. They had to go to 'a wedding or something' (Jason didn't really know) and so he was hiking solo for a few weeks until they finally ran into each other again. From the sounds of it, he is going to be backpacking for quite some time. The only goal he has is to hitchhike the 80 miles back to his car when he was down in the Sawtooths.
Jason asked me if we were going to have a campfire. I said that if we have enough time we would. At that moment, Rose appeared out from the woods and said "if you have a campfire I'll play music on a random Chinese instrument." Needless to say, I decided at that moment we were going to have a campfire and we were going to begin immediately.
She brought over the mysterious black box and pulled out an erhu. An erhu is a Chinese instrument known as the 'instrument of the peasants.' it consists of a small box which rests on the ground and a vertical pole standing about 2 feet from the center of the box on the ground. Two strings, attached at the top of the pole and down to the box are played by what looks like a violin bow. But rather than the bow being seperate from the instrument it is fit, looped between the two strings.
It sounds awful. It's a whiny, screechy sound that brings to mind dying cats. Or nails on a chalkboard. It was also completely awesome. While she clawed away Jason told about more of his adventures, as well as how his sister was a train-jumper, hopping on freight trains and traveling to small towns throughout the US living the life of a modern-day hobo. She is accompanied by her "traveling street musician" boyfriend. The night wasn't complete until Jason busted out a harmonica (!) and wailed away for a few minutes.
That night I had a dream that Mel Phiel, the Dean of Christ College, asked me to go find him an energy drink.
The next day we climbed a mountain pass, the most rigorous thing we've done with campers so far. It took us nearly four hours to wind our way up. Once up we were rewarded with a magnificent waterfall and perhaps the best perch you could ask for in the Sawtooths. Two main mountain ranges run North-to-South. They run parallel for 70-80 miles with a lovely forested valley between. At the southern tip the two ranges smash together, promptly ending the valley of trees with a wall of rock, creating a massive wishbone. We ate lunch on top the knob of the wishbone, looking north down the center of these two ranges and over the tops of several others. We probably saw over 70 miles of land.
We kept hiking to the Upper Baron Lake, our home for the night. Upon arrival a camper puked. Then we had dinner. And he lost it again. The Plague had struck Ridges.
A quarantine tent was set up away from camp and Jake was locked up with two nalgenes of water. Halfway through our route, turning back would have been just as easy as finishing the trip. Jake was plenty uncomfortable. We could hear moans and whimpers coming from the tent, thirty yards away. On our minds were not the sounds but the fact that he could easily face dehydration the next day. Kids at camp became severely dehydrated to the point of hospitalization when all they did was sleep in the infirmary and throw up. They couldn't keep anything down. Jake was fifteen miles from the nearest road. And if he hiked out, he would face the summer sun which was so intense that I drank nine litres of water in one day to stay quenched.
We decided to use the satellite phone we carry for emergencies to call camp to let them know our situation. Paul answered from his cabin. He was in there all day throwing up. The Plague had eaten its way through staff this week. Paul told us to see how he was the next morning. We would take all of his gear, leaving him with just water. If his situation was worse in the morning, or if he couldn't keep going during our hike, we would call in the Search and Rescue team to come evacuate him.
Wake-up time was 0600 in order to beat the heat as much as possible. While weak and tired, Jake was not getting worse so we headed out. The hike was supposed to be a half-mile up and over a 9300 foot mountain pass and then downhill the rest of the way. Maps give you an estimate only, however. Switchbacks -places where the road weaves back-and-forth because the elevation is too steep to go straight- quickly added to the total. We hiked up for nearly three hours with stops for Jake whenever he needed. We finally made it to the top of the peak just after 10:30 that morning. We stopped for a packs-off break and to take in the view which consisted of an even better view of the valley we saw the day before as well as all the land on the other side of the wishbone.
A map session was going on when we heard a rumbling/roaring noise came from the north. Soon, we saw streaks of gray shooting through the sky below us: 2 F-15 fighter jets from nearby Mountain Home Air Force Base were (presumably) on a training mission. They flew within ten yards of each other the whole time, and because we were so high up, we were actually looking down at the jets flying in the valley below. A maneuver which decreases their chance of being spotted by enemy radar, jets often fly through mountain ranges while hugging the terrain, letting the mountains serve as natural shields. Sure enough, as quickly as we saw them we saw them shooting over the top of the range and then back down. Took my breath away.
Jake held up and so we kept hiking until we hit Alpine Lake, one of the most popular destinations in the forest (once there he set up a tent, went to bed, and slept for 18 hours). While our campers were busy catching water snakes, fish, and making bug-gladiator rings, I took a nap. I had plenty to think about. Because just before my nap our friends Jason and Rose came to our camp. I still don't know how they got there because they passed us nearly 24 hours ago. They told us that not more than three hours after we had left the campsite we shared with them two nights ago, they spotted a bear nosing around.
After my nap, feeling relieved to have escaped so much already and somehow still confident that our luck was turning, Courtney and I took an 80 minute hike around the lake while our campers bummed around camp. It was a cool hike with 30-foot boulders to scale and 7 or 8 waterfalls to cross.
With Jake back to nearly normal on Friday, we decided to hike to Bench Lakes for the afternoon before heading out at Redfish Lake. The heat and sun were pretty brutal (we also had a later start), but we made it, spending nearly 4 hours splashing in the chilly lake, sleeping, and eating all the leftovers we had. To cap off both the trip and my summer of Ridges, a night hike was planned. We left just before 9 pm and hiked north. While the sun set to our left we went down the mountain.We slept next to the parking lot which was actually quite scenic (sounds of the flowing stream, wind in the trees, etc.) and not like parking lots from the midwest. While we basked in the starlight, campers shared stories from school, the best being when an English teacher had a nervous breakdown and left during a discussion about the validity of the Oxford comma.
Danny picked us up and I went back to camp with enough time to see the campers off and have one meal before heading out again for a weekend mountain summit with my friend Max as a way to kick off the last week....
Courtney was on trail during week six, so I was left to plan week seven's trip alone. The group was older than in previous trips, so I decided to try a longer trip -from the western edge of the Sawtooth National Mountain Wilderness Area to the eastern edge, in total about 25-27 miles.
I spent more time preparing for this trip than any other because of a variety of food issues. One girl who was coming had a severe gluten allergy. Gluten is found in wheat, barley, rye, and oats, as well as in many food additives. And, for those of you not well-versed in grains, we were not able to pack anything that had any flour, baking mix, pretzels, tortillas, cereal, oatmeal, granola, brownies, cake, pasta, and more. This compromised about 30-40% of the food we usually take. On top of that, a boy with a life-threatening allergy to peanuts also signed up for week seven ruling out all peanuts, peanut butter, chocolate, and granola bars. This took out another 15-25% of the food we typically packed. The final straw was a girl who was not allergic to anything but had severe pickiness disorder. There is actually no such disorder; I just made that up. But it was unbelievable. In the pre-trip interview she said in a matter-of-fact way, "I will eat bagels, peanut butter, fruit snacks, cinnamon toast crunch, and most desserts." Her food universe consisted of these things and almost exclusively of these things. Even at home, she would eat the same handful of foods for every meal, every day.
I had my work cut out for me. I had much research to do. And much praying.
I researched the two allergies online, with the cook, and read every nutrition label in the kitchen. I spent each night making some sort of food to replace the trail foods we usually rely on. I made berry fruit leather, apple fruit leather, dried bananas with honey and cinnamon, dried peaches with cinnamon and nutmeg, dried nectarines with sugar...
We ended up using a hybrid ration plan with "Gluten Girl" (as I had dubbed her for the sake of quick reference) and "Peanut Boy" each bringing a few things to pack where our resources could not meet their needs.
After a three-hour drive to the trailhead on Monday we began our hike. The weather was hot as we were on the exposed side of a mountain and, more importantly, by the end of July the summer had finally reached the Sawtooths.
Unbeknown to us at the time, the people back at camp were not fairing so well. "The Plauge" had ravaged camp the week before, infecting a multitude of campers with the most violent and most contagious stomach flu I've seen. The final tally was too high to count -the nurses quarters had to turn away kids because there was no more space. We sent a girl to the hospital. It had only gotten a hold of three or four of the counselors (as well as the cook) the week before, but over the weekend it started knocking them down, too. Danny, who was feeling fine Saturday morning found himself quarantined before lunch that day. He puked a dozen times in as many hours. Fearing I would contract it and then get sick on trail, I spend the weekend by myself in the netherlands of camp, wearing rubber gloves and carrying an aerosol can filled to the brim with virus-killing lysol. Because of my voluntary segregation, I found the time to watch Indiana Jones, Fantasia 2000, Return of Jafar and a couple other fine films.
After the first day's hike I was wondering what we could do to add a little spice to the trip. Two of the hikers had done the Ridges program last year and we found out at lunch that they had gone on the same route I had planned. Feeling bad, I was trying to think of ways to compensate.
One positive aspect of this group was that immediately, before we even left camp, they had all become friends. They needed no prodding to talk, include everyone, and for the most part, were self-sufficient. Basking in the freedom this gave us, Courtney and I decided to leave them to their own devices and we left to go up-trail to go make dinner. While we were whipping up a batch of garlic mac and cheese (using cubed cheese, not powder), two hikers stopped by. The man, who appeared to be older than us but not a day over 30, introduced himself from under his shaggy blonde hair as Jason. His hiking partner was a girl of the same age named Rose who had a mysterious looking black box strapped to the back of her pack. I asked them how long they had been hiking. Jason said four days ago, Rose just started that morning. They didn't know each other at all: they just ran into each other on trail and decided to hike together for a few days. Jason had actually been backpacking for over two months in various wilderness areas in the western US.
After dinner I went to their camp and found out that before beginning his adventures, Jason worked as a fisherman in Alaska, at a WalMart in Montana, and at jobs in Chicago and Oregon. He saved up money and then quit working. He does not know how long he'll be out. He does not know where he'll go next. He does not know where he'll end up. When his trip began back in March, he left with three friends. They had to go to 'a wedding or something' (Jason didn't really know) and so he was hiking solo for a few weeks until they finally ran into each other again. From the sounds of it, he is going to be backpacking for quite some time. The only goal he has is to hitchhike the 80 miles back to his car when he was down in the Sawtooths.
Jason asked me if we were going to have a campfire. I said that if we have enough time we would. At that moment, Rose appeared out from the woods and said "if you have a campfire I'll play music on a random Chinese instrument." Needless to say, I decided at that moment we were going to have a campfire and we were going to begin immediately.
She brought over the mysterious black box and pulled out an erhu. An erhu is a Chinese instrument known as the 'instrument of the peasants.' it consists of a small box which rests on the ground and a vertical pole standing about 2 feet from the center of the box on the ground. Two strings, attached at the top of the pole and down to the box are played by what looks like a violin bow. But rather than the bow being seperate from the instrument it is fit, looped between the two strings.
It sounds awful. It's a whiny, screechy sound that brings to mind dying cats. Or nails on a chalkboard. It was also completely awesome. While she clawed away Jason told about more of his adventures, as well as how his sister was a train-jumper, hopping on freight trains and traveling to small towns throughout the US living the life of a modern-day hobo. She is accompanied by her "traveling street musician" boyfriend. The night wasn't complete until Jason busted out a harmonica (!) and wailed away for a few minutes.
That night I had a dream that Mel Phiel, the Dean of Christ College, asked me to go find him an energy drink.
The next day we climbed a mountain pass, the most rigorous thing we've done with campers so far. It took us nearly four hours to wind our way up. Once up we were rewarded with a magnificent waterfall and perhaps the best perch you could ask for in the Sawtooths. Two main mountain ranges run North-to-South. They run parallel for 70-80 miles with a lovely forested valley between. At the southern tip the two ranges smash together, promptly ending the valley of trees with a wall of rock, creating a massive wishbone. We ate lunch on top the knob of the wishbone, looking north down the center of these two ranges and over the tops of several others. We probably saw over 70 miles of land.
We kept hiking to the Upper Baron Lake, our home for the night. Upon arrival a camper puked. Then we had dinner. And he lost it again. The Plague had struck Ridges.
A quarantine tent was set up away from camp and Jake was locked up with two nalgenes of water. Halfway through our route, turning back would have been just as easy as finishing the trip. Jake was plenty uncomfortable. We could hear moans and whimpers coming from the tent, thirty yards away. On our minds were not the sounds but the fact that he could easily face dehydration the next day. Kids at camp became severely dehydrated to the point of hospitalization when all they did was sleep in the infirmary and throw up. They couldn't keep anything down. Jake was fifteen miles from the nearest road. And if he hiked out, he would face the summer sun which was so intense that I drank nine litres of water in one day to stay quenched.
We decided to use the satellite phone we carry for emergencies to call camp to let them know our situation. Paul answered from his cabin. He was in there all day throwing up. The Plague had eaten its way through staff this week. Paul told us to see how he was the next morning. We would take all of his gear, leaving him with just water. If his situation was worse in the morning, or if he couldn't keep going during our hike, we would call in the Search and Rescue team to come evacuate him.
Wake-up time was 0600 in order to beat the heat as much as possible. While weak and tired, Jake was not getting worse so we headed out. The hike was supposed to be a half-mile up and over a 9300 foot mountain pass and then downhill the rest of the way. Maps give you an estimate only, however. Switchbacks -places where the road weaves back-and-forth because the elevation is too steep to go straight- quickly added to the total. We hiked up for nearly three hours with stops for Jake whenever he needed. We finally made it to the top of the peak just after 10:30 that morning. We stopped for a packs-off break and to take in the view which consisted of an even better view of the valley we saw the day before as well as all the land on the other side of the wishbone.
A map session was going on when we heard a rumbling/roaring noise came from the north. Soon, we saw streaks of gray shooting through the sky below us: 2 F-15 fighter jets from nearby Mountain Home Air Force Base were (presumably) on a training mission. They flew within ten yards of each other the whole time, and because we were so high up, we were actually looking down at the jets flying in the valley below. A maneuver which decreases their chance of being spotted by enemy radar, jets often fly through mountain ranges while hugging the terrain, letting the mountains serve as natural shields. Sure enough, as quickly as we saw them we saw them shooting over the top of the range and then back down. Took my breath away.
Jake held up and so we kept hiking until we hit Alpine Lake, one of the most popular destinations in the forest (once there he set up a tent, went to bed, and slept for 18 hours). While our campers were busy catching water snakes, fish, and making bug-gladiator rings, I took a nap. I had plenty to think about. Because just before my nap our friends Jason and Rose came to our camp. I still don't know how they got there because they passed us nearly 24 hours ago. They told us that not more than three hours after we had left the campsite we shared with them two nights ago, they spotted a bear nosing around.
After my nap, feeling relieved to have escaped so much already and somehow still confident that our luck was turning, Courtney and I took an 80 minute hike around the lake while our campers bummed around camp. It was a cool hike with 30-foot boulders to scale and 7 or 8 waterfalls to cross.
With Jake back to nearly normal on Friday, we decided to hike to Bench Lakes for the afternoon before heading out at Redfish Lake. The heat and sun were pretty brutal (we also had a later start), but we made it, spending nearly 4 hours splashing in the chilly lake, sleeping, and eating all the leftovers we had. To cap off both the trip and my summer of Ridges, a night hike was planned. We left just before 9 pm and hiked north. While the sun set to our left we went down the mountain.We slept next to the parking lot which was actually quite scenic (sounds of the flowing stream, wind in the trees, etc.) and not like parking lots from the midwest. While we basked in the starlight, campers shared stories from school, the best being when an English teacher had a nervous breakdown and left during a discussion about the validity of the Oxford comma.
Danny picked us up and I went back to camp with enough time to see the campers off and have one meal before heading out again for a weekend mountain summit with my friend Max as a way to kick off the last week....
Friday, July 24, 2009
Musings and bits.
Well we’ve been without internet for two weeks now. Add that on top of the week I was gone backpacking and that equals the longest I’ve gone without writing.
So we begin. Two weeks ago…
As suspected, 7th-9th grade boys are truly awful people. In fact, if you rank age groups from most valued to least, you’ll find that this age group exists at the bottom. I say all this tongue-in-cheek of course (and I have not yet to take out girls that age. Check back next week to hear about that upcoming experience…), but the sliver of truth in this one is pretty evident. Now, I don’t blame them 100%. They have almost no potential as functioning human beings at that age so they almost can’t help it. Okay. I’ll stop now. But they do smell bad no matter how big of a heart you have.
Danny and I left with 10 boys on Monday morning, including Paul Brenner’s nephew (Paul’s most recent job was the
At the start of the trip Danny took pole position as I hiked caboose. In front of me was Snow. No more than 90 seconds into the hike he was slumped up against a tree, exhausted. He would get up, take a few more steps, and then slowly collapse into a pile of unhappiness, right on the trail. Meanwhile, Danny, who had assumed wrongly that people who signed up for a hiking trip knew what hiking was, kept hiking as if all were normal. Fifteen minutes in he realized Snow and I were out of eyesight and so he waited. And waited. And waited. We had been on the trail only fifteen minutes but relative to them me and my buddy Snow were only about one minute into the hike, so Danny ended up waiting twenty minutes before we finally showed up. Knoll, relieved that we had not been eaten by bear, was not too excited to learn about the status of our tenth hiker. After the third collapse a while back I had loaded all the food and group gear Snow was carrying into my already full pack. After discussion, Danny decided to take on Snow’s personal gear, including a heavy sleeping bag which he roped to the back of his bulging pack, giving him a 100-inch girth. So, with nothing to carry but an empty pack and his water, we expected better results...
Before taking off again, this time with me in front, Danny asked how often Snow stopped to sprawl. I told him every ten steps. Thinking I was exaggerating he decided to count once we started. It was exactly ten steps until the first stop.
Our route needed dramatic revision. We shortened it and took what was left at half-speed. At this mind-numbing speed we each coped differently. When he was at the end, Danny would veer far to the extreme right of the trail and then to the extreme right, snaking it up the trail while we were all going straight. I exchanged my trekking poles for a memo pad and a pen and wrote everything that came to mind. I will share some of them with you now.
-Most of you know I really like cheese, so this might come off as biased, but I truly believe it is the most versatile food in the world –even more so than bread. It is delicious on its own or as a supporting character in other dishes. It is appealing at any time of day, from a
-When making medium-to-large decisions, people often say they are “weighing all their options”, “thinking it through”, and “considering all the factors”. After debating this for a while with myself I think this is not really the case. People would like to take it all into consideration, but there actually isn’t a way to put that many factors into a decision. We might think about a lot of different factors that could influence the decision, but in the end we pick something solely because of one or two crucial factors. We take the rest of those ‘factors’, after the decision has been made, and make sure that we can construct them so as to support our already-made decision lest it seem like it was made because of only one or two reasons. That is not bad or deceptive. That is called finding the good in things, realizing how much possibility lies in nearly everything, and working with what you have been given. In the end, most of the factors begin-and end-in the gray realm. Most of those grays don’t begin to change color until well after the decision has been made, if ever. If it wasn’t this way, there wouldn’t be much of a decision to make in the first place.
-Life is both better experienced and better enjoyed when you are dirty.
-I don’t like the motto ‘live like you are dying’ or ‘live as if you were going to die tomorrow.” It’s dumb. Because, if you do then you are doing things not willfully, but as a reaction to a threat; not out of faith but presumably out of fear, and, in the end, it is just bad logic. Reworded it reads, “Love [A] because tomorrow you might not have [A].” The possibility of not having something is no reason to love it!
It’s almost as silly as telling a child at dinner “think of how many hungry people there are in the world and be thankful that you have food!”
-I propose “Die like you are living” as an alternative.
-95% of the stories Snow told while around the campfire had to do with videogames, including rants about videogame settings that I could not even understand. The best (bizarre/funniest) rant of his that I could understand was his tirade about somebody he was playing online who claimed to be 13 but sounded like he was really 9. Imposter! Relating this directly to his propensity for hiking I have decided that, with an iron fist, I will ban any offspring of mine from bringing anything xbox or playstation related thing into the house on the mere chance that they will suffer similar side-effects.
-Some of my favorite bits of wisdom (small things that make a big difference) include:
+Do not use lined paper for anything.
+Keep your fingernails and toenails trim and clean
+Dental hygiene is important
+The morning, even if you are not a morning person, is the most carefree, most peaceful, and most hopeful time of day
+Say hello -or at the very least smile- to every person you walk past
+Keep your head warm whenever it is below sixty degrees. A warm hat and a good scarf keep sicknesses at bay better than orange juice
+The musical choices you make can affect everything in your life
+Healthy eating should be most focused on liquid -not solid- intake. Drink plenty of water, milk, tea, juice. And throw in Keystone Light in there for posterity. Limit fruit drinks and pop. You’ll be good to go. Have that second cheeseburger.
+Sleep outside
+As a general rule of thumb, older people have more to say than younger people. Seek them out if you want something.
-I could stand to re-read some Dr. Seuss books
-Dr Seuss’s Lorax has the word “dank” in it.
-The dash is my favorite piece of punctuation, followed closely by ellipses
-Siestas will be a part of my life from this day forward.
-There has to be some yet-to-be-invented food out there. I’m not talking about Nabisco releasing a new kind of cookie. I’m talking about a new food category. Completely new. For example, there was a time before people knew ice cream existed. And then someone stumbled upon it. There has to be a new food out there. I want someone to find it.
-one of the boys just said “there was this girl at my school and she was hot and she liked me and she had a facebook and she asked me if I had a facebook and I don’t so then she didn’t like me anymore”
-
HERE MARKS THE END OF MY THOUGHTS WHILE HIKING BEHIND SNOW.
So that was that. The hike was nice. I will not bore you with a page of descriptions of trees and rocks. Note:
Danny and I did have very memorable slimes before bed every night.
The weekend after was staff refresher weekend –a weekend filled with activities and fun to ensure that we are rested and ready to go for the last half of summer. By the end of the weekend I was actually exhausted, but it was fun. Friday night the girls had a themed dinner. They chose the theme of Titanic. We began with finding dates by drawing names out of a hat. I ended up with two. Danny and I of course hammed it up, trying to one-up each other all night, steal everyone’s dates, and talk in a Will Ferrell/Dan Logas voice. During our dinner of coconut shrimp I was given the task of attacking Danny every time he got out of his chair (he had to get out of his chair every time this one girl, Jennifer, got out of her chair [and this guy Jurgen had to tackle me every time I tried to get to Danny]). Very fun. Towards the end of dinner (and I did briefly create a dance floor) we were startled by lights flashing and were told that the ‘ship was sinking’. The ladies hurried us to the boat docks and ushered us into canoes (they were all still wearing dresses and we were dressed up as well –I even slicked back my hair ;-) ) where, amidst the setting
After changing we watched the movie
As if energy was not important at all, breakfast was followed by camp relay, a massive event involving bicycles, eggs, string, giant water bikes, greased melons, a lake, and body paint. I painted a picture of an aborigine witch doctor all across my chest and stomach in hopes that a tattoo of the man would burn into my flesh. It worked.
We finished the afternoon with a game of water jousting on the jousting dock in the middle of the lake. Exhausting. I then helped prepare a dinner of steak and potatoes for the counselors. To cap off the weekend
Danny and I hosted a staff talent show. I wore all black with white sunglasses and Danny wore all white with black sunglasses.
Now some odds and ends:
Until this week, I had gone nearly three weeks without sleeping in a building.
My voice has been getting progressively raspier all summer.
It has been brought to my attention that I have said ‘sweet’ nearly 20 times in these posts. This is most certainly intentional.
I read mail in a kayak in the middle of a lake today.
I ate a chunk of authentic honeycomb.
Sunday night, two hours after receiving new campers, a storm came tearing over the lake and through camp. I saw three 80-foot trees, all within 50 yards of each other –and me- fall, all within 90 seconds. We lost power for the rest of the day and a truck got smashed by a tree.
One kid pooped an astonishing ten times in the four day Ridges trip.
This past week on site was nuts. The best story is that I met a lady who not only graduated from Valpo, but also went to my high school.
I also saw a fox.
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Only three more weeks here. I’m looking forward to taking my time after August 9. College, of course is always a rush and the final semester/graduating was very intense. Leaving for
I have had little time to actually look into post-Idaho plans, but I have moved forward somewhat. I had an interview with Captive Free, a band which does traveling ministry. Initially I was very interested in it. However, after a few weeks of thinking and praying, I have been feeling that I am being led elsewhere. I really miss school already. For some time I’ve thought about eventually going back to school, getting a PhD in something and teaching humanities in a small liberal arts college or university. Recently I’ve been exploring more into that dream and have really been liking it. I know I need a little more time off before going back and I have also been told that if you wait too long to go back to school, you won’t end up going. [Aristotelian mean, enter stage left.] So, as of now I am considering taking a year or two to pick a course of study, take the GRE, research, apply, visit places, make some money to pay off loans/save for new loans and starting sometime between fall 2011 and 2012. Rather than finding a job that travels all the time, I think it would be most beneficial to choose one location and a job that isn’t all consuming so that more of my time and energy could be devoted to those ends.
So that’s where I am, eight weeks into this great western adventure: still in the Middle of Nowhere,
Monday, June 29, 2009
post grande
Prologue::::this is a very long post. beware. Sorry. But I do finally have some pics to post. Hopefully by the end of the week they’ll be up.
with our packs, gear, forty pounds of food, and a full tank of gas in our brown 1990 gmc safari, courtney and i left camp perkins and headed (even more) west for oregon. after being here for nearly a month-and-a-half, our first real trip couldn't have come at a better time. although idaho is sweet and camp perkins is a blast, cabin fever knows no boundaries.
we left camp at seven a.m for the eleven hour drive. fifteen minutes up the mountain we found our boss's radio between the two front seats. we turned around and drove right up to the mess hall, honked the horn, and made him walk out to get it. we proceed back up the mountain and then down again, only this time on the other side. i am driving and therefore we occasionally get turned around and then i have to turn the van around.
this trip was a test. not only was it our first ridges trip of the year, not only was it a half-day's drive away, but i was danny-less. and, because i have time to think about these things, i have the math to prove that this trip will be the longest i will have gone without seeing danny since christmas. even more emotionally devastating, it will be the longest i will go without seeing a phi psi in more than two years.
we entered oregon at 12:55 and the western time-zone a short time later. i was very excited about this, as courtney can attest to, as i have never before been on that time. i was checking her cell phone clock nearly every 45 seconds to see if the time had switched. when it finally did i danced in my seat.
one of the first things we did in oregon was stop for gas. now in oregon (as well as new jersey), motorists are, by law, not allowed to pump their own gas. this law, stemming from a 1940's fear of fires/explosions lives on today in part due to the threat of drive offs and in part to give people jobs. so there we sat, in our sweet looking safari while a young man put gas in our tank and washed our windows.
now i don't know what you picture when you imagine what oregon looks like, but i always thought it was one big forest. i was mistaken. the eastern two-thirds of the state might have a collective 40 trees. that's exaggerating a bit, of course, but it is true that over half the state is classified as a "high desert." our average elevation hovered around 3,000 feet. the first two hours in the beaver state were spent weaving in and out of small mountains/big hills made of reddish brown rock. before long the land flattened out and we were in the desert. for real. nothing but sagebrush, hard cracked earth, and little yellow flowers for three hours. between the idaho-oregon border and bend, oregon (our first night's destination) there was a total of three places you could have stopped. one place was a rest stop with a billboard noting how the barren landscape had chased away the last attempts of settlement during the early 1900s. the second place used to be a general store but now exists as an empty wooden shell with busted out windows. the third stopping area had a gas station. five hours of driving. one gas station. it was a beautiful drive.
as we neared bend we saw three mountains rise up out of the horizon in front of us. while most mountains in the area topped out at 6,000 feet or less, these three mountains -named 'the three sisters'- soar in at over 10,000. actually ancient volcanoes (last eruptions occurring 2,000, 50,000, and 100,000 years ago respectively), these mountains are world famous in climbing cicrles. they can be extremely treacherous, are laden with multiple glaciers each, and recently many tremors have been recorded on them. http://www.permatopia.com/wetlands/images/Three_sisters.jpg they are still very snowy and made a really cool contrast with the dusty ground we were traveling on.
after an rei stop (new boots, spoon, food mug, and rope!), we headed to where we were supposed to spend the night. paul had placed an 'x' on the map of oregon in his oregon road atlas and told us we could camp there. we drove past an hour of cattle ranches, all the while thinking we'll have to spend the night in a ditch on the side of the road when a national forest service sign appeared on our left. a small 28 site camp named 'skull hollow' (awesome) was our stopping point. it was a low service camp: two porta-potties, no streams or wells, and no office. it was quite literally a splash of land with a gravel loop around it. you pay by slipping a five dollar bill in a lockbox chained to the ground. it was also one of the most beautiful campgrounds i've been to. all around us were small mountains and on the horizons were the sisters (known to early settlers as 'faith', 'hope', and 'charity').
we picked site #23, set up the tent, made some pasta, and listened to country music (as we had been doing the whole trip). we slept for over 9 hours. early in the morning a bird decided to mimic an air raid siren on a branch above the tent. i managed to go back to sleep somehow and then had a dream where my dad and i were driving around in a big motorhome (it happened to be father's day that morning...) and cardinals were coming out of the air vents in swarms and dive bombing our heads.
after waking up a final time we made breakfast and busted camp in record time. we went to a starbucks (after passing cooly road) to plan our week in more detail. we drove to bend to pick up the boys. i was driving and i got lost a whole lot. bend is a city with many bendy roads and many one way roads. i went down the wrong bendies and once even went down the wrong way of the street.
Nearly everyone drives a Subaru or a Volvo.
we finally arrived at the church. we packed and drove three hours south to the willamette national forest, where they do have trees -many, actually. we camped the first night next to a large lake (technically a reservoir, but whatever). i cooked up a really tasty potato cheese soup on our msr whisperlite stove.
the next day's hike was wicked. we hiked from 10am until 7pm with few breaks. we ascended 4,000 feet over the course of the day. two of the three boys were not very happy. mosquitoes were more horrendous than anything i've ever seen. but we saw some really nice views and the smells were even better. This forest was filled with douglas fir and cedar trees. also, little wildflowers of all sorts were everywhere and with plenty of sun like we had, the smells just swirled around all day. i also peed off the top of a mountain.
all day I had a hankering to watch the first two indiana jones movies.
danger showed its ugly head when, at 7pm, we were nowhere near a good camping spot, we were out of water, the sun had just disappeared down the other side of the mountain, and the fork in the road we were standing had different markings than the map we were holding. court and I debated what to do for a good 10 minutes before finally deciding to take path 305 up the mountain. after 15 minutes we ran into a little stream on the side of the mountain (water) and we found an awesome little nook to sleep in. it actually was a little land peninsula and reminded me of pride rock from the opening scene of lion king. it jutted out past the thick trees that lined either side of the trail and hung over the valley below.
battling mosquitoes I cooked up some rice and beans while the others busted up camp. With the leftover rice we made an improv cinnamon and sugar rice pudding. bed felt really nice. i was the first to wake up the next morning and walked the 150 yards to the end of the peninsula (where mosquitoes did not travel) and looked out.
the second day we made some rockin chocolate chip pancakes and made our way to lizard lake. on the map lizard lake looks like a scenic mountain getaway. turns out this stagnant lake doubles as the world headquarters for mosquitodom. we threw our tents up at 6:00 after the quickest dinner ever (hashbrowns and cheese) and stayed in them all night. I cannot describe how thick these bugs were. While throwing up the bear bag I could see nearly 100 on one of the campers. I was really tired and fell asleep shortly after the tents went up. I slept for 11 hours. I haven’t slept that much since I was in the crib. I think the mosquitoes sucked the energy out of me.
The third day was the best day. we had gone south and up. Now we were going north and straight down the valley. One of the campers, a chronic whiner, still found reasons to complain. We passed awesome waterfalls and hummingbirds were out and about all day. butterflies also love Oregon and there were hundreds. It was not uncommon to walk right into a cloud of those fluttering little guys. They especially liked me. They would land on me and I would name them. On one break I even counted seven on my pack. We camped at the trailhead and ate cheesy Italian pasta and fudge. the campsite was located on a trail built in 1888 and is part of the Oregon military trail. A log fence surrounds a protected meadow. In the morning I woke up and sat on the fence and watched the fog lift up and off of the mountains. It was smoky mountainesque.
Our penultimate day was spent driving back up near bend. We camped at the same place: skull hollow! This time was even sweeter. I made a sweet leftover pie: bottom layer of cornbread with cinnamon, then a layer of refried beans with chili powder, then mashed potatoes with mrs dash, then cheese. After cooking it we put the lid on and made a fire on it to melt the cheese. After eating that I made cheesecake. I saw every color during the sunset. we all had a little alone time so I sat on the ground and watched the sun going to bed as I wrote a few letters and took a few pictures with courtney’s camera.
the drive home to Idaho was also story filled. Three stories, actually. Well, four if you include the fact that I saw an undercover police pick-up truck with lights blazing flying down the highway
1) at 2:11 pm western time I finally figured out what I want to do in life. It happened all of a sudden and seemed to come from outside of me. I am going to be in a country band. Now just think about it for a minute. Although country music isn’t at the top of my playlist, I do like it. The reason it makes so much sense is because if you make a venn diagram of all the qualities I like in things, country music fits most of them: It is very fun to play. They travel to places I like to go to or would like to go to. I think fans of country music would be fun.
2) i now know 4 news events. While we usually listened to country while out in the wild west, commercials do happen. So I flipped stations only to listen to thriller and then make a change and then abc its easy as 123 and then I heard the news. I was sad at the news and at the fact that I found out.
3) The best story. Before leaving Bend, Courtney and I wanted lunch. And we wanted something ‘authentic’. No fast food. Finding nothing on our way out we decided just to keep trucking and find something at the end of the desert, 5 hours later. well we stopped at that aforementioned gas station and because it said diner on the side. We walked in and were blown away. In a space smaller than your average living room, these people had managed to fit: a restaurant, a drugstore, a bookstore, a jewelry store, an auto parts store, an ice cream parlor, a general store, a u.s. post office, an Idaho souvenir shop, a jail, and a saloon complete with swinging doors. During our lunch two dusty cowboys walked in, spurs a’ rattlin’. they brushed off their chaps and sat down. The old man muttered “two cheeseburgers” and then nodded toward the younger. They were silent for the rest of the time. I just started writing down everything I saw:
A machete, teddy bear, rattlesnake skin, advent calendar, dream catcher, American hunter magazine, coors heavy and Budweiser, motor oil, no les than 30 homemade signs, seattle seahawks backpack, pepto bismol, posters, fake roses, picture of a bronco, handbag with a little wolf head sticking out of it, world map, snow globes, dusty can of popeyes spinach on top of a window, nora Roberts novels, high chair, small tv playing cbs soap opera, cigarettes, easter bonnet, hobo figurine, Humphrey bogart 500 piece puzzle, poster of two leopard cubs, collector pins, fake Indian turquoise necklace and bracelet, mismatching tablecloths, cat litter, chunk of tree root for sale???
3.5) I accidentally filled my water bottle up with soda water at a gas station…and I like it! I never used to. But I do now. How euro!
We got back to camp at one in the morning and had to wake up at seven to leave again for a two day ‘leave no trace’ training course. We went out with paul (the trainer) and four adults who signed up. It was fun. Not much to write about other than the fact that when we got home and danny and I were showering and I decided to do something funny with the fact that I haven’t shaved in three weeks. so with a little shave and a little hair spiking I am now sporting the wolverine look. Sweet! after that we had camp movie night. what movie? indiana jones, of course. then i took my sleeping bag outside and slept under the stars. saw the biggest shooting star ever. i'm not going to sleep inside anymore.
---------------postlogue-------------
During our last night in skull hollow I took a little walk. I saw a bird fly to a tree, tweet to another bird, and fly off. The whole thing took about 2 minutes. Well, when I first saw it I started giving play by play poetically, and with a soft british accent (more tweed jacket and elbow patches than white gloves and tails). I thought I was alone, but apparently the others heard it, snuck behind me, and recorded it. That is mostly insignificant to the story EXCEPT that it put me in a poetic and british mood. Walking down the gravel road to the bathroom (where nearly every good idea begins), the words ‘there are no roads no nowhere’ suddenly popped in my head. In the bathroom I wrote it (if anybody outside was listening they must’ve thought I was nuts. I was speaking aloud in a british accent in a porta potty by myself) and then during the sunset I wrote it out. It is written with a bit of shel silverstien flavour. And although the idea behind it probably has been borrowed about a million times this is just a little something different, which is just the point.
roads. (best when read in a soft british accent)
there are no roads to nowhere
though others say there are
and if you sought to find one
you wouldn’t get very far
before too long you’ll realize
as you look back at what you’ve seen
that your feet now stand on ground different
than where they once had been
different, perhaps, than what you saw
when you first stared down the line
but ‘different’ is the essential term
which essentially redefines
for what once was there is now here
and what was here is there
and even if ‘here’ (once ‘there’) is ‘lost’
it, most surely, is ‘somewhere’
with our packs, gear, forty pounds of food, and a full tank of gas in our brown 1990 gmc safari, courtney and i left camp perkins and headed (even more) west for oregon. after being here for nearly a month-and-a-half, our first real trip couldn't have come at a better time. although idaho is sweet and camp perkins is a blast, cabin fever knows no boundaries.
we left camp at seven a.m for the eleven hour drive. fifteen minutes up the mountain we found our boss's radio between the two front seats. we turned around and drove right up to the mess hall, honked the horn, and made him walk out to get it. we proceed back up the mountain and then down again, only this time on the other side. i am driving and therefore we occasionally get turned around and then i have to turn the van around.
this trip was a test. not only was it our first ridges trip of the year, not only was it a half-day's drive away, but i was danny-less. and, because i have time to think about these things, i have the math to prove that this trip will be the longest i will have gone without seeing danny since christmas. even more emotionally devastating, it will be the longest i will go without seeing a phi psi in more than two years.
we entered oregon at 12:55 and the western time-zone a short time later. i was very excited about this, as courtney can attest to, as i have never before been on that time. i was checking her cell phone clock nearly every 45 seconds to see if the time had switched. when it finally did i danced in my seat.
one of the first things we did in oregon was stop for gas. now in oregon (as well as new jersey), motorists are, by law, not allowed to pump their own gas. this law, stemming from a 1940's fear of fires/explosions lives on today in part due to the threat of drive offs and in part to give people jobs. so there we sat, in our sweet looking safari while a young man put gas in our tank and washed our windows.
now i don't know what you picture when you imagine what oregon looks like, but i always thought it was one big forest. i was mistaken. the eastern two-thirds of the state might have a collective 40 trees. that's exaggerating a bit, of course, but it is true that over half the state is classified as a "high desert." our average elevation hovered around 3,000 feet. the first two hours in the beaver state were spent weaving in and out of small mountains/big hills made of reddish brown rock. before long the land flattened out and we were in the desert. for real. nothing but sagebrush, hard cracked earth, and little yellow flowers for three hours. between the idaho-oregon border and bend, oregon (our first night's destination) there was a total of three places you could have stopped. one place was a rest stop with a billboard noting how the barren landscape had chased away the last attempts of settlement during the early 1900s. the second place used to be a general store but now exists as an empty wooden shell with busted out windows. the third stopping area had a gas station. five hours of driving. one gas station. it was a beautiful drive.
as we neared bend we saw three mountains rise up out of the horizon in front of us. while most mountains in the area topped out at 6,000 feet or less, these three mountains -named 'the three sisters'- soar in at over 10,000. actually ancient volcanoes (last eruptions occurring 2,000, 50,000, and 100,000 years ago respectively), these mountains are world famous in climbing cicrles. they can be extremely treacherous, are laden with multiple glaciers each, and recently many tremors have been recorded on them. http://www.permatopia.com/wetlands/images/Three_sisters.jpg they are still very snowy and made a really cool contrast with the dusty ground we were traveling on.
after an rei stop (new boots, spoon, food mug, and rope!), we headed to where we were supposed to spend the night. paul had placed an 'x' on the map of oregon in his oregon road atlas and told us we could camp there. we drove past an hour of cattle ranches, all the while thinking we'll have to spend the night in a ditch on the side of the road when a national forest service sign appeared on our left. a small 28 site camp named 'skull hollow' (awesome) was our stopping point. it was a low service camp: two porta-potties, no streams or wells, and no office. it was quite literally a splash of land with a gravel loop around it. you pay by slipping a five dollar bill in a lockbox chained to the ground. it was also one of the most beautiful campgrounds i've been to. all around us were small mountains and on the horizons were the sisters (known to early settlers as 'faith', 'hope', and 'charity').
we picked site #23, set up the tent, made some pasta, and listened to country music (as we had been doing the whole trip). we slept for over 9 hours. early in the morning a bird decided to mimic an air raid siren on a branch above the tent. i managed to go back to sleep somehow and then had a dream where my dad and i were driving around in a big motorhome (it happened to be father's day that morning...) and cardinals were coming out of the air vents in swarms and dive bombing our heads.
after waking up a final time we made breakfast and busted camp in record time. we went to a starbucks (after passing cooly road) to plan our week in more detail. we drove to bend to pick up the boys. i was driving and i got lost a whole lot. bend is a city with many bendy roads and many one way roads. i went down the wrong bendies and once even went down the wrong way of the street.
Nearly everyone drives a Subaru or a Volvo.
we finally arrived at the church. we packed and drove three hours south to the willamette national forest, where they do have trees -many, actually. we camped the first night next to a large lake (technically a reservoir, but whatever). i cooked up a really tasty potato cheese soup on our msr whisperlite stove.
the next day's hike was wicked. we hiked from 10am until 7pm with few breaks. we ascended 4,000 feet over the course of the day. two of the three boys were not very happy. mosquitoes were more horrendous than anything i've ever seen. but we saw some really nice views and the smells were even better. This forest was filled with douglas fir and cedar trees. also, little wildflowers of all sorts were everywhere and with plenty of sun like we had, the smells just swirled around all day. i also peed off the top of a mountain.
all day I had a hankering to watch the first two indiana jones movies.
danger showed its ugly head when, at 7pm, we were nowhere near a good camping spot, we were out of water, the sun had just disappeared down the other side of the mountain, and the fork in the road we were standing had different markings than the map we were holding. court and I debated what to do for a good 10 minutes before finally deciding to take path 305 up the mountain. after 15 minutes we ran into a little stream on the side of the mountain (water) and we found an awesome little nook to sleep in. it actually was a little land peninsula and reminded me of pride rock from the opening scene of lion king. it jutted out past the thick trees that lined either side of the trail and hung over the valley below.
battling mosquitoes I cooked up some rice and beans while the others busted up camp. With the leftover rice we made an improv cinnamon and sugar rice pudding. bed felt really nice. i was the first to wake up the next morning and walked the 150 yards to the end of the peninsula (where mosquitoes did not travel) and looked out.
the second day we made some rockin chocolate chip pancakes and made our way to lizard lake. on the map lizard lake looks like a scenic mountain getaway. turns out this stagnant lake doubles as the world headquarters for mosquitodom. we threw our tents up at 6:00 after the quickest dinner ever (hashbrowns and cheese) and stayed in them all night. I cannot describe how thick these bugs were. While throwing up the bear bag I could see nearly 100 on one of the campers. I was really tired and fell asleep shortly after the tents went up. I slept for 11 hours. I haven’t slept that much since I was in the crib. I think the mosquitoes sucked the energy out of me.
The third day was the best day. we had gone south and up. Now we were going north and straight down the valley. One of the campers, a chronic whiner, still found reasons to complain. We passed awesome waterfalls and hummingbirds were out and about all day. butterflies also love Oregon and there were hundreds. It was not uncommon to walk right into a cloud of those fluttering little guys. They especially liked me. They would land on me and I would name them. On one break I even counted seven on my pack. We camped at the trailhead and ate cheesy Italian pasta and fudge. the campsite was located on a trail built in 1888 and is part of the Oregon military trail. A log fence surrounds a protected meadow. In the morning I woke up and sat on the fence and watched the fog lift up and off of the mountains. It was smoky mountainesque.
Our penultimate day was spent driving back up near bend. We camped at the same place: skull hollow! This time was even sweeter. I made a sweet leftover pie: bottom layer of cornbread with cinnamon, then a layer of refried beans with chili powder, then mashed potatoes with mrs dash, then cheese. After cooking it we put the lid on and made a fire on it to melt the cheese. After eating that I made cheesecake. I saw every color during the sunset. we all had a little alone time so I sat on the ground and watched the sun going to bed as I wrote a few letters and took a few pictures with courtney’s camera.
the drive home to Idaho was also story filled. Three stories, actually. Well, four if you include the fact that I saw an undercover police pick-up truck with lights blazing flying down the highway
1) at 2:11 pm western time I finally figured out what I want to do in life. It happened all of a sudden and seemed to come from outside of me. I am going to be in a country band. Now just think about it for a minute. Although country music isn’t at the top of my playlist, I do like it. The reason it makes so much sense is because if you make a venn diagram of all the qualities I like in things, country music fits most of them: It is very fun to play. They travel to places I like to go to or would like to go to. I think fans of country music would be fun.
2) i now know 4 news events. While we usually listened to country while out in the wild west, commercials do happen. So I flipped stations only to listen to thriller and then make a change and then abc its easy as 123 and then I heard the news. I was sad at the news and at the fact that I found out.
3) The best story. Before leaving Bend, Courtney and I wanted lunch. And we wanted something ‘authentic’. No fast food. Finding nothing on our way out we decided just to keep trucking and find something at the end of the desert, 5 hours later. well we stopped at that aforementioned gas station and because it said diner on the side. We walked in and were blown away. In a space smaller than your average living room, these people had managed to fit: a restaurant, a drugstore, a bookstore, a jewelry store, an auto parts store, an ice cream parlor, a general store, a u.s. post office, an Idaho souvenir shop, a jail, and a saloon complete with swinging doors. During our lunch two dusty cowboys walked in, spurs a’ rattlin’. they brushed off their chaps and sat down. The old man muttered “two cheeseburgers” and then nodded toward the younger. They were silent for the rest of the time. I just started writing down everything I saw:
A machete, teddy bear, rattlesnake skin, advent calendar, dream catcher, American hunter magazine, coors heavy and Budweiser, motor oil, no les than 30 homemade signs, seattle seahawks backpack, pepto bismol, posters, fake roses, picture of a bronco, handbag with a little wolf head sticking out of it, world map, snow globes, dusty can of popeyes spinach on top of a window, nora Roberts novels, high chair, small tv playing cbs soap opera, cigarettes, easter bonnet, hobo figurine, Humphrey bogart 500 piece puzzle, poster of two leopard cubs, collector pins, fake Indian turquoise necklace and bracelet, mismatching tablecloths, cat litter, chunk of tree root for sale???
3.5) I accidentally filled my water bottle up with soda water at a gas station…and I like it! I never used to. But I do now. How euro!
We got back to camp at one in the morning and had to wake up at seven to leave again for a two day ‘leave no trace’ training course. We went out with paul (the trainer) and four adults who signed up. It was fun. Not much to write about other than the fact that when we got home and danny and I were showering and I decided to do something funny with the fact that I haven’t shaved in three weeks. so with a little shave and a little hair spiking I am now sporting the wolverine look. Sweet! after that we had camp movie night. what movie? indiana jones, of course. then i took my sleeping bag outside and slept under the stars. saw the biggest shooting star ever. i'm not going to sleep inside anymore.
---------------postlogue-------------
During our last night in skull hollow I took a little walk. I saw a bird fly to a tree, tweet to another bird, and fly off. The whole thing took about 2 minutes. Well, when I first saw it I started giving play by play poetically, and with a soft british accent (more tweed jacket and elbow patches than white gloves and tails). I thought I was alone, but apparently the others heard it, snuck behind me, and recorded it. That is mostly insignificant to the story EXCEPT that it put me in a poetic and british mood. Walking down the gravel road to the bathroom (where nearly every good idea begins), the words ‘there are no roads no nowhere’ suddenly popped in my head. In the bathroom I wrote it (if anybody outside was listening they must’ve thought I was nuts. I was speaking aloud in a british accent in a porta potty by myself) and then during the sunset I wrote it out. It is written with a bit of shel silverstien flavour. And although the idea behind it probably has been borrowed about a million times this is just a little something different, which is just the point.
roads. (best when read in a soft british accent)
there are no roads to nowhere
though others say there are
and if you sought to find one
you wouldn’t get very far
before too long you’ll realize
as you look back at what you’ve seen
that your feet now stand on ground different
than where they once had been
different, perhaps, than what you saw
when you first stared down the line
but ‘different’ is the essential term
which essentially redefines
for what once was there is now here
and what was here is there
and even if ‘here’ (once ‘there’) is ‘lost’
it, most surely, is ‘somewhere’
Thursday, June 18, 2009
perspective.
The first complete topographic mapping of the
imo jean (which i affectionately call iwo jima) is just over 10,200 feet above sea level. between it and another peak called parks mountain lies a lake, fed by multiple inlets, seasonal streams, and waterfalls. parks is a slate gray while iwo jima is pinkish in color. we started our climb at 5:20 am. because there are no trails going up, we had to more-or-less guess which route would serve us best. we (the ridge staff and paul) started up a rocky hillside spotted with scraggly little bushes. after 10 minutes of hill climbing, we hit granite. we had weave in and out and up. we climbed past the remains of giant trees, felled by lightening, wind, and avalanche. after just under an hour of hiking paul, who was in the lead, said 'oh!' five seconds later i knew why. we had come to a place where rocks and/or the mountain itself did not block the rising sun. i took a step upwards and the sun jumped up from behind iwo jima and shot light straight into my eyeballs. my sunglasses were laying comfortably in my tent, 1,000 feet below.
from that point, the hike became a climb. and became much more challenging. we took turns carrying a pack, which carried all of our water, extra layers, and food. carrying this pack adds significant weight and with that, momentum. when stepping on piles of rock (by this point there was no visible dirt. just rocks. the average sized rock was slightly larger than a toaster. the largest rock was slightly larger than a kitchen.), your center of gravity is constantly changing. you wobble. with added momentum, you really wobble. thankfully, paul let me borrow an extra pair of trekking poles for the trip. after wobbling up terrain for a while we came to a point in which we had to slide down a face of smooth granite. at the base of the face was a small ledge extending about sixteen inches out. past that ledge was nothing but clean mountain air. the only way down was to take off the pack and slide it down to paul. only then could i turn around, face the rock, grab hold of the edge, and lower myself down. did i mention i've never liked heights.
it was exhilarating.
next, we hit a boulder field. whereas the last rocky part i talked about had a rough, yet negotiable way up, this field was steep to the point where you could not stand up straight: you had to lean forward to keep balance, even when still. i don't know how, but the majority of rocks we stepped on did not budge. we must have stepped on 20,000 rocks on the way up and probably saw 1,000,000, and while many wobbled, only 30 or so ever came loose and only 5 actually gave way and tore down the mountain. time and gravity have wedged all of these vastly different rocks into one puzzle-like unit. as we went up, oxygen became harder to come by. what oxygen was left was also significantly colder than the valley below. the mountainside of rock soon became the mountainside of snow.
we had chosen a route that would take us to a 'saddle'. unlike most children's' drawings of mountains, triangular mountains with a needle-sharp point at the top are rare. more likely than not, the 'top' of the mountain is long and consists of its own mini system of peaks and valleys. the 'saddle' is the space between two of these peaks. this is especially common in the sawtooth ranges, where the long, jagged tops of mountains creates a sight that looks like the blade of a saw. the side of the mountain directly beneath saddles are also prime places for avalanche runs. snow builds up at the top of the mountain and the laws of physics mandates that when it chooses to go down, it goes down the natural chute which the saddle creates. we went up one of these runs. the run was no longer active this season as the majority of snow had already fallen, creating the swelled rivers and lakes below, but the surface which served as the pavement for the avalanches -deep, thick, and tightly packed snow- remained. because it was so steep, the only way up was to kick your toe in the side of the snowy mountainside and create a step to go up. thankfully, paul served as plow and gave us all a pre-made stairway to walk up on. we had already been climbing for two hours however, and with the added elevation we were pooped, regardless. this also was the most scary part of the climb. during the rock scrambles, our paths were winding and behind us were larger boulders and tree which obstructed what otherwise would be a straight shot. an avalanche chute, however, is what it is precisely because it gives snow an unobstructed path for a long ways. and when i looked back i could see a looong ways.
that portion of the climb seemed to last the longest, mostly because going up snow is a slow process and also because we wanted to get to the top so bad. as we neared the finish line, the mountains on the other side of iwo jima became visible, and with each step up more and more we could see down the other side.
we peaked at 8:06, two-and-a-half hours after we began. we traveled just under one mile east and just over one-half mile up.
straddling the top you could see whatever you wanted to on either side. we also saw blackish clouds moving in from the west. while that did increase our heart rate, the clouds were either at eye level or below it. and that was really cool. after a few pictures and a few power bars we started back down the way we came. paul taught us a few sweet moves to scoot down the snow quickly and safely. going down went by much more quickly, however it is much harder on the knees. it also was the beginning of a very wet day. it started to mist virtually on our first step down. it increased its tempo from there and by the midpoint down the mountain we were nothing but wet, wet, wet. we also chose to go down a different way than we had come up, a way which included a few small water crossings.
we arrived back at camp and made chocolate-chip pancakes as we busted camp.
the five mile trip to and from our base camp by the lake was supreme. we walked through a bonafide forest, which i liked a lot. with all the rain we've been having, it is now home to the most mosquito-rich area in the universe. swarms and swarms of mosquitoes. whenever we stopped for a water and pack-off break, we would step back from our packs and watch a small gray cloud envelope our packs. sick.
also, we cross rivers by going through them, which is fun and cold. i really like them. on the return trip we saw a group of boy scouts on the other side, attempting to crawl, one by one, over a partially submerged tree trunk which was stretched across the water. as we approached the river from above we saw two or three scouts teeter and totter their way across. without missing a beat and without saying anything we plunged right into the water, boots on. we formed a flying v while facing upstream in order to divert the quickly moving current and sidestepped our way across. with chests puffed out we wrung out our socks as we watched a few more scouts crawl across.
the last two miles were beautiful and quiet. on the trip to our campsite we walked close together and each of us took a turn telling a long personal story. on the return trip we hiked apart from each other and used the time for quiet.
we arrived back at perkins soaked, stinky, and starving. we each ate our weight in food, cleaned the gear, and then ourselves.
we won't go on adventures quite that daring when we're with groups. paul simply wanted us to do something hard to add to our experiences. i will not soon forget iwo jima.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
it never rains in idaho.
the first hike: last saturday after breakfast courtney, danny, and i all loaded our gear into courtney's electric blue pick-up truck. after incessently bugging paul, our boss, to let us go hiking, he finally relented, letting us go on a one night journey. we ate oranges and pb&j sandwiches during the twenty-mile drive north to the trailhead. we pulled into a small store at the trailhead and talked to the guy behind the counter who was also a hippy. he pointed us to where we should park the truck. after petting a few sweet dogs that were running around we took off.
redfish lake is about four miles long. along each side of the lake are tall ridges that serve as footstools to the mountains nearby which are HUGE. our hike started on the southern edge of the lake and took us up onto the ridge on the eastern side. crossing a few very rudimentary footbridges which carried us over mountain streams, we ascended over 1,000 feet until the lake looked like a pond, and then, a puddle. the path was rocky, but wide enough to accomodate us three comfortably. we breezed past a group of five other hikers and once we were higher stopped at several great overlooks including one where a giant boulder jutted out of the side of the ridge to give an incredible panoramic view of the valley and lake below. after just over three miles of hiking on this path we veered east, on another path marked by an old, wooden sign, and into the sawtooth wilderness area.
we hiked alongside and against the stream of a small crick until we started another ascent. here we had our first wildlife encounter: a mountain deer bolted out of the bushes from below, about 20 yardsin front of us. it quickly went up and out of sight. exciting. we heard some falling water and soon found ourselves skirting the top edge of a little gorge. soon after, we arrived at a small lake, the smallest of a chain of three lakes. this system, called the 'bench lakes', also was our destination for the night. we sat on the water's edge and ate the best granola ever, prepared that morning for us by our cook, sarah. after tossing a few snowballs into the water, which was as clear as a window, we decided to fart around a bit and look for a campsite for the night. we walked around the eastern half of the lake, weaving in and out of tall, skinny pine trees, until we bumped into the second, and considerably larger second lake. perhaps the most gorgeous spot i've seen yet, it was nestled at the base of two 11,000+ foot mountains:
after a number of white clouds passed us, we noticed some gray clouds moving in. we quickly found a suitable spot, about 300 yards from the big lake and 150 yards from the small lake and busted camp. luckily, it didn't rain for too long. after we had a safe haven to run to in case more rain came, we decided to explore more. we decided to hike around the big lake and continue to the third. we quickly hit snow that was three, four, even five feet deep. luckily, the warm (relatively speaking) weather had melted and compacted it enough to where we could walk on top of the snow. about every three minutes one of our legs would hit a soft spot in the snow and sink in up to our thigh. it was about four in the afternoon at this point.
the land became less flat and more 'up' and we started to climb up downed logs and small hills, but before we started that i went over to the water's edge and practiced this sweet new bird/native american whistle that anna meyer (caleb meyer's sister[moffat]) taught me. you cup both hands together and blow. hard to explain, but trust me: awesome. after i was satisfied, we started climbing. danny found a place in th hill where you could here an underground stream. after ten minutes of up we decided that dinner was more important than finding that third lake. so we went back. we boiled up a pot of water and made pasta, loaded up with a cup of butter and a half-pound of cheeses, spices, and herbs. it was awesome. as we were finishing eating, we noticed a black cloud racing towards us. we threw everything in a bag, hung it in a tree, and ran to the safety of our tents, just in time to watch hail fall from the sky. we talked for a while before falling asleep. i woke up, looked at my watch, and saw that it was 9pm. whoops. a four hour nap was not in the itinerary, but obviously it was needed. we walked out of the tent and walked aroud for an hour before heading to bed, again.
we woke up to a crisp, cold morning. steam was rising from the lakes. we brought ingredient for chocolate chip pancakes, but without a spatula it became chocolate cake which we enjoyed thouroughly. we loaded up and started our descent. the whole way down courtney asked us all sorts of questions. in all, it was a great first trip.
we came back to camp and immediately were thrust into cpr training, which lasted for 5 hours. let me sum it up for you: two breaths, thiry compressions. repeat.
danny and i left camp each morning for the next two days to travel down the road to a neighbor camp-luther heights-to take a wilderness first aid class. luther heights was sweet. staffed primarily by hippies (most notably pastor eric, who has a large beard, has been there for 25 years, and doesn't own clothing made after 1988), this camp is laid back and full of fun. we spent eight hours each day learning how to make splints, wraps, dress puunctured lungs, do a full body assessment, and an assortment of other cool medical things. the lady who taught it is a first responder on a ski course in
wednedsay was spent in neighboring
after riding we rested on a pier on redfish lake before heading to a park. for dinner and a meeting.
at any given moment, i imagine there are probably 100,000 games of catch going on in the world. if you were to take a picture of each game and rank them in order of how cool the location was, the session danny and i had that day would rank in the top ten. we were on a run-down baseball field on the top of a hill, surrounded by mountains. clouds were rolling everywhere, and the sun was going down. incredible.
per capita,
danny and i are going to memorize the entire 'who's on first?' routine and perform it sometime this summer.
after the horse riding adventure, the entire camp staff packed up their sleeping bags and we headed for an open space in the forrest about 8 minutes from camp. courtney and i fired up our whisperlite camp stoves and heated up some oil. we then made fried oreos and smores. wow. afterwards, a very valpo-esque trifecta of never-have-i-ever, sardines, and one-word took place. interesting... after those games the guys and girls split up. we let the girl have the fire pit to stay warm. us men did a very manly thing and all 12 of us sat in the bed of the camp pick-up truck. for two hours we talked about what was on our minds. it was nice. we finished with a rousing chorus of amazing grace and the battle hymn of the republic. after the girls finished we all layed our bags out under the stars and fell asleep, looking at them. that was the best sleep i have had yet. i did have a dream that i was in
now i am preparing for our first trip. we are loading up a van and driving ten hours west to bend,
on tuesday paul is taking us three ridge guides on a 2 day hike. we asked where we were going. all he said was 'pack warm. we're going high.' when we asked how high, he said 'we're bringing snow shoes.' pray for us.
unfortunately, there isn't much of an accent people here carry. i have, however, picked up a new word that is often used around here; y'all. it is an amazing word. and since i'm living here for a while, i think it i legit for me to use it.
danny and i have also taken to wearing bandanas. they provide a little warmth while not overheating your cabesa. they also can be altered into many funny variations.
yesterday was my first half-day off. i drove to town in a janky old diesel pick-up that belongs to
i actually wrote this blog yesterday, but due to clouds, we have not had internet since yesterday afternoon, so i am just now posting this during a short break. the past few days camp rainbow gold has been with us. camp rainbow gold is a national organization that brings families with children who suffer from cancer together at camps across the nation. so for the last few days we've been able to play, eat, and laugh with them. each night there is a variety show. they should be recorded and played on tv. simply hilarious. tonight there is a dance. danny and i will be showing up in costume.
also, last night, just after midnight and just before bed, i layed down on the basketball court, pulled out the kPod and listened to sweet tunes while star gazing. i saw one billion stars and one shooting star.
finally, before coming to
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