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And so, the great adventure begins. In less than 15 minutes, I'm off to Boston to pick up Kate. Then we'll drive to Belgrade (3.5 hours) and spend the night at the camp. We'll awake bright and early, and head the remaining 5 hours (in fair traffic) to It. Of course, the traffic jam will almost be unprecedented. Routes 1 and 1A were never intended to funnel 50,000 people into Limestone for a weekend. It will be an experience. I shall attack this traffic with patience, consideration, and jollity. It's a Phish Festival, after all.

Here's to a thousand surprises, both great and small.
posted by Ben at (0) comments 6:23 PM

 
The moments are ticking away until IT, and my inner voice seems all twisted. It wants to write crazed rhyming poetry that limply flows without meter or rhythm. Maybe I need some sleep.
posted by Ben at (0) comments 10:43 PM

 
There's two random tidbits, that I feel inspired to comment about.

1) Jack Kerouac, author, poet, bobble head. When I first saw the fark headline, but ignored it for Phish setlist fretting. I was puzzled. I showered, and wondered what Jack would think about the whole thing. Was it American consumerism going to far? There's too much symbolism in giving an author an oversized head, and having it bounce around on a spring. Then I read the article, and realized that it was promotional for a minor league baseball team in Lowell. Jack would have been thrilled. He enjoyed sports, and loved Lowell. His only complaint would be that the bobble head is standing on On The Road. It may be Kerouac's most popular book, but it is truly one of his lesser works. My guess would be that he'd rather it be Dr. Sax, or more appropriately The Vanity of Duluoz.

2). Word has finally trickled to me across the internet, that Cat Schwartz of Tech TV (which I don't watch) accidentally posted topless photos of her self to her blog. Accidentally?? Apparently, she likes to put up photos as part of her log and cropped one of these down to the eyes. The thing is that Photoshop kept thumbnails of prior and uncropped shots within the file. The ability to undelete is cool, but that's a bit extreme. I'm glad that I use Paint Shop pro for everything saucy. Not that there's much sauciness. It seems like an unusual twist of the modern internet. Instead of finding interesting things on the way to porn, being a geeky fan and looking for interesting things unwittingly reveals porn. Reading her blog, she seems to be taking this in stride. I guess its because too many people are tweaked about her smoking, and not enough are wondering why she was posing topless to begin with. Why?

Here's the photos. Not Safe for work.
posted by Ben at (2) comments 12:30 PM

 
Yesterday, adelphia's internet service went down, so I couldn't post, search online for jobs, etc. It was rather troubling. I had a great entry about listening to music while driving all thought out.

I drove to Market Basket to pick up some tortillas, and the river started playing While My Guitar Gently Weeps. At first, I wondered, is this an omen? Will Phish play the tune at It? I remember Kate and I being rather disappointed that it was selected to encore one of the 2000 Hartford shows. We dig a well placed cover, but as an encore we'd like covers with a bit more energy. As I was driving down Burns hill, listening more intently to the song, I started to think that I would really like to play the song. Trey must have similar sentiments, except the phish arrangement really isn't as stark and moving as the Beatles treatment. The interplay between George's haunting rhythm guitar work and Paul's bass line was captivating, and really something that is missing from recent Phish versions. They try to make it more rocking. I need to listen to Halloween 94 and see if Page played it hauntingly when they were students of the White Album. It's got to be tricky using keyboards to replace that sparse and lonely, almost percussive rhythm guitar line. Understandably, when Phish plays the song Trey takes his shot at Eric Clapton's tearful guitar solo. Unfortunately, it doesn't pack the impact the accompaniment.

Interestingly, when I was driving back from visiting my grandmother I really got into a different Eric Clapton tune on the radio. This is rather unusual, because I tend to think that Clapton is a bit over rated. I like sloppier guitarists: Hendrix, Young, Anastasio, etc. I guess Jimi Page falls into that category too, but I don't really care for him either.
posted by Ben at (0) comments 10:33 AM

 
I'm completely flabbergasted by last nights Phish setlist. You snooze you loose, right?

07/29/03 Post Gazette Pavilion, Burgettstown, PA
Set I: Daniel, Camel Walk, Gotta Jibboo, Cool it Down, Scent of a Mule, Fee> Timber> When the Circus Comes to Town, McGrupp and the Watchful Hosemasters, Golgi Apparatus
Set II: Crosseyed and Painless> Thunderhead, Brother, Harpua> Bittersweet Motel, Harpua, I Fooled Around and Fell in Love1 2 3> HYHU> Harpua, David Bowie
Encore: Farmhouse

1 First time played
2 Fishman on vocals
3 with vacuum solo
Bold - Major Bust out
Italic - First time played in quite some time

Only 3 songs in the entire show have been played this tour. Many are first time since the hiatus, and buckets are bust outs. Zzyzx has a substantial analysis in his livejournal.

What's left for IT, boys? Icculus????? Destiny?? Forbins-> Mocking Bird (I almost hope not). Spock's Brain? Rocka William? Walfredo? Fluffhead??

There better be some bust out up your sleeves. All Things Reconsidered?? Mound?? I don't know; Phish, you're making me crazy. CRAZY!!
posted by Ben at (0) comments 8:23 AM

 
hmmm. Writing from my bedroom, via the newly setup wireless network is a different experience. The chair is much less comfortable, the temperature less pleasant, and my feline companion is nowhere to be seen. Who knows how this will impact my thoughts, and expositions. I’m not sure about the long term, but I do know that tonight will be short and sweet.

The job search is frustrating, time consuming, and seemingly fruitless. No cold call letters written today. Somehow, I spent hours setting up the damn network. That and my tendency to waste time watching Babylon 5 and The Practice reruns. I suppose now that the network works from my room I can claim more time without having to worry about impinging on my fathers Internet time.

Sure the computer graphics of B5 are cheesy, but every once in a while Harlan Ellison's brilliant wit shows through the melodrama. I also really want to figure out the Vorlons. I was in Washington for most of the Shadow war, so I think that I missed out on most of the secrets the show will reveal. Oh well.

posted by Ben at (0) comments 11:05 PM

 
UM Fall Tour (through Halloween) looks rather disappointing. It's mostly in the Midwest and in the South. No Cleveland (maybe that's good). There's also no indication that additional dates could be added in New England. The holes to fill in are on the southern jaunt. 3 shows in Alabama this year, and only one in Beantown. It makes no sense.

Also, the boys have announced that the 8/16 show at Durty Nellies will be their last one there. Its too bad, but at the same time good. That place was packed when I saw them there in May of 2001. I'm glad I could take them in at such a classic UM venue.

posted by Ben at (0) comments 11:54 PM

 
I was all ready to write about the spirituality of night driving, particularly involving a low-traffic Storrow Drive, but I came home to a pleasant surprise. The fine folks at CDnow sent me a check from their discontinued affiliates program. $27, for putting a stupid banner add on my Peaches site. This is in addition to the box of goodies they sent after I joined (the shipping was over $8.00 - this is why the dot.coms failed). I must have moved a fair number of President's records. I'll have to beef up the Amazon affiliate presence on the peaches page.

The whole thing has made me nostalgic for the old, wild web. Raw creative, unusual pages seem fewer and far between because people feel burdened to provide a flashy layout or some high tech wrapper for their content. Others are happy to do the journal thing. I have no complaints about that, it was always a part of my site, but I really have no interest in reading journals from lots of people that I don't know. War reporters, rock bands (with varying setlists, crazed bass players, who include multimedia content), and mathematicians who can provide rumors and other Phish insight really are the only strangers that strike my fancy.

I'm sure that some journals are funny, witty, and everything I wish was more prevalent on the web. They may even utilize some abstract, modern, prose technique, which revolutionizes self-expression. I won't find them. There's no random walk along today's internet. It's a directed trickle, with an occasional surprise google result. Oh for the wilds, when you had to read a bunch of crazy stuff, or follow 2-3 sequential links to get to your intended information. The internet introduced me to bands like Dodgy, when I was trying to find naked pictures of Ginger Spice. Today's teenager would get the porn, and have no excitement in the quest.
posted by Ben at (0) comments 11:42 PM

 
Here are some notes from Summit Ave, typed furiously while waiting for water to boil and dinner to begin. Kate and I just returned from the Pirates of the Caribbean. This was a great, fun film loaded with wit, depth, action, and that Johnny Depp swagger. Bless it. This morning we fashioned the banner that we'll hang from our masts at IT. It's a watermelon, looking a fair bit like a parody of the Japanese flag. Yesterday we entertained a visit from his royal coolness, before JC packed up and returned to the wilds of Wisconsin. Its always good to hang with a brother. We toured Cambridge, hung out, and watched The Mexican. Not too shabby. note note. avast ye.
posted by Ben at (0) comments 5:42 PM

 
Consider this.

posted by Ben at (0) comments 4:18 PM

 
"Fast Enough for You". I was caller #1. I was so fast enough for you, Bob Stewart. Unfortunately, I needed to be #5. I think I got into the que again, but nothing came of it. We'll see what Nicole plays. Hopefully its soon. She's a phishhead, so I'm hoping that she has an extra pair of tickets. Bob redeemed himself when, after announcing teh winner he siad You Enjoy Yourself. He knows, despite being a Panic fan.
posted by Ben at (0) comments 2:05 PM

 
The River played "Birds of a Feather" to kick of, at least to my listening, the free ticket friday It ticket give away. I got a lot of busy signals until the tune was almost over, and it was too late.
posted by Ben at (0) comments 8:41 AM

 
Cold calls and a headhunter have defined my day. No progress yet, but things might somehow work that way. At least the cold call letters seem like I'm doing something, which is more fulfilling than the internet job search. Somehow that just saps time and has yet to bear much fruit.

The pictures of Uday and Qusay are rather disturbing. Releasing them seems like it is a questionable move stateside, but it keeps with standard media practice in the middle east. I didn't enjoy seeing them on CNN durring my lunch. It seemed to offend my sense of human decency. Now, am I upset that they were killed, or just that I had to look at the results of that action?

Its clear that we won the war phase of the military action in Iraq. They could have turned themselves in and continued to live. Well, I'm sure someone would have tried to kill them, but that's a different issue. They chose to continue to pose an active threat against our military. I would have rather taken them alive, just as I'd rather we take Saddam alive. I doubt there's much hope of that now though, he really has nothing left to loose.

I wonder, does Saddam weep for his sons knowing that his tyranny corrupted their morality? Does he weep knowing that his refusal to step down started a chain of events which resulted in their deaths? Is he sane enough to realize that those bloody, mutilations were cause by his faults? Or is he just filled with a mad rage of denial, contempt? I understand his feelings of loss, but how many innocent sons has he killed, and left buried in unmarked mass graves? How many parents were denied the simple knowledge that their children were dead? At least Saddam can watch TV and see. At least he knows.
posted by Ben at (0) comments 9:55 PM

 
The quest for gainful, inspiring employment continues. There's no stopping now. In fact, its expanded to a whole new range of possibilities. The recent acquisition of a laser printer, to replace the ailing, inconsistent, and always streaky HP allows me to torment the employment world with cold call letters. Hard, physical, cold call letters. Yes, I want to work for you so much that I called up and asked around for your name, so that I could send you some nice personal mail, which I hope that you see as a fine opportunity to take a break from real work and crappy meetings while still on the clock, and not actually slacking like you will be in 5 minutes when you check FARK, CNN, or whatever website suits your fancy, salaried, notion of procrastination.


That goes for all of you, engineers everywhere. I will not relent in my faithless support of the vestigial US Post Office until you fashion a well paying position for me. I shall not yield.

For something a little less polemical, or on second that maybe a little more, this morning I read an editorial in the Telegraph lauding Tony Blair's speech to the US Congress for rallying congress to forget about GW's intelligence/credibility debacle and focus on defining and understanding the role of the United States in the modern world. While I haven't read the speech - I will track down a transcript. The editorial got me to thinking about the nature of the 21st century, and the idea of global government and the US as a peacekeeping force.

As a point of fact, the US military acting as a peacekeeping force is not a new development. We're just dipping our boys in hotter waters. Liberia seems to be boiling. Of course, this is nothing new. Large numbers of our troops are stationed throughout Europe to prevent further war on the continent, allowing the great old world nations to again achieve some sort of stability and prosperity. The UN didn't magically alleviate all of the troubles of Europe. It was certainly helped by the fact that we never, not in 50 years, pulled our troops out. Its too bad that Iran isn't communist. It'd be a lot easier to justify an extended military presence in Iraq without playing our hand. I'm really looking forward to getting a glimpse of our cards when I read Of Paradise and Power, if I can ever get it from the library.

Some detractors of the US and it's global presence, argue that we are too arrogant and that like Rome, someday we shall fall. I disagree. Not only will our representative form of government be viable in the long term, until it evolves an even more perfect form within the constraints of our founding documents, but the US itself will not be crushed by its own weight. One of the fundamental requirements of effective government, is that it must be able to communicate with its constituents. Rome was far too big. It would take weeks or months for messages to travel from one end of the empire to the other. The schism and eventual collapse was inevitable. Today, that's not the case. Communication and transportation technology allow instantaneous information exchange across the globe, and a person can physically travel between any two developed locales in a day or two.

The globe isn't too big for a single representative system. Of course, that system cannot be generated with treaties or by politicians ordaining it. It must grow organically. The US is simply spreading the fertilizer of a global democracy.

One question I do have, is what is the upward bound on the size that a government can be with our current technology. Could a populated Martian colony be an equal partner in a representative human government? What about the asteroids and moons of Jupiter? How far could it expand?

My other question is this. Why do environmentalists support the Kyoto treaty, which clearly encourages industry to locate the most polluting facilities in the regions of the world that, thus far, had the least human caused environmental impact? It just doesn't make sense to me. Truly, a successful treaty should have equal requirements regardless of the industrial state of a signatory nation. Perhaps clauses could be added to support compensatory tariffs on non-member nations. Free trade is the key to the development of the world.

Perhaps the size of a government is limited by the speed and volume of trade between constituents. That would spell problems for Mars.



posted by Ben at (0) comments 11:14 PM

 
I'm glad to be done with typing my old, crippled narrative. While, I'm sure the detailed play by play will be nice when I'm aged and forgetful, it wasn't exactly inspiring reading for me. The recent Phish show entry, which I detested at the time, seemed the most captivating as a whole. Others had sections, but I think they missed the real spiritual essence of the trip or were at least too mired in details to actually capture the vibrancy of the moments.

I really think that trees can be bodhisattvas. When my brother and I were having our big blow up of a fight, and he stormed off to the payphone to talk to Jodie, for a time that must have approached infinity, without telling me, I left a note half joking about taking off to search for a bodhisattva to help me to enlightenment. I was feeling a bit bad about the fight, but simultaneously wanted to throw some spiritual words at him and make him feel dumb. I'm a jerk. Anyway, a tree set me straight.

I spent some time meditating (sort of) on a picnic table staring at this one wise tree. It wasn't an outrageously old tree, in fact it was skinnier than many in my back yard. It was just conveniently located and full of character. The spaces in its branches left a lot of room for the outside world to seep in.

Anyway as I contemplated it, its presence massaged my thoughts. Peace dispelled the clouds of my soul, and understanding took root in my mind. While the revelations along the Hoh river, were deep and sweeping, this moment was a bright point of light within my being. It was singular, small, and with a radiance that illumined other ideas.

I had hoped for a last adventure with my brother before our separate lives caused us to grow too far apart. The tree offered the idea that a last adventure isn't last because it was planned to be so, but because it stopped being an adventure. My embarrassed mind flooded with images from sit-coms and movies about teenagers and the "failed" last summer vacations as a family. Too much effort? Or is it that the little moments should start to surpass the big in terms of importance and appreciation.

Did the relationship outgrow the convenient framework of grand experience to require less defined nurture? We'll see.
posted by Ben at (0) comments 11:29 PM

 
This is the last of these typed entries from the past.


Phish Setlist 7/13/03 - The Gorge, George WA.

Set 1: Runaway Jim, Scents and Subtle Sounds, Axilla -> Carini, Dog Faced Boy, Round Room, (sunset) Halley's Comet*, Guyute*, You Enjoy Myself
Set 2: Llama, Wolfman's Brother -> Jesus Just Left Chicago, 7 Below -> siketish jam-> 7 below, Harry Hood, Chalkdust Torture.
Encore: First Tube
*Mike played an electric bagpipe.

Sea-Tac International Airport: Monday

I'm twisted out of my gourd on lack of sleep and caffeine. I've elected to stay awake until check-in opens. It may not be the wisest decision that I've ever made. A small group of army folk, and a couple of phish kids are passed out on the floor, quickly advancing themselves to the 5:05 check in for Northwest.

Today was a day of change, joy and sadness. We awoke to rains at our Rainier National park site and had the joy of packing out in the damp and muddy. It wouldn't be much of an annoyance, if I weren't worried about water weight throwing my pack over the 50lb weight limit. Fortunately, NWA scales indicate that did not occur.

We headed from the rain to the arid fruit capitol of Yakima. Somehow in less than an hour we went from wet rainier to a very dry, quasi desert. The plentiful rivers in the region endow it with sufficient resources for high quality farming. With almost 100% chance of sun, fruit and veggies thrive. We hit up a grocery store - which was very well adapted to a highly Mexican community. There was a tortilla/chip production facility within the store as well as boxes of hot sauce and loads of Mexican staples.

We ate lunch at Tequilla's Family Restaurant - a place a few blocks from the city center that used old dining cars as dining rooms. It appeared to have been part of a block or so romanticizing the rail industry. There was an unusual variety of different freight cars from various railroads behind the block, providing an interesting decoration.

Tequilla's served their lemonade in giant margarita glasses and refilled the beverages readily. Pat ordered a super burrito and I a seafood enchilada. It was surprisingly good. There was a green sauce which tied the crab and shrimp's delicate flavors to the more traditional Mexican sides.

We made a cash run to Wal-mart but the cashier only gave me a 100, not small bills.

The drive from Yakima to George was relatively short. We stopped at the other side of the river to visit a petrified forest. The uninspired state park caged the petrified wood, making it unsuitable for photography and barely interesting to view. The cage was heavy 1/4 inch wire - quite unsightly.

We hit a gas station to refuel and call home. Kate relayed the prior night's setlist. I couldn't make heads nor tails of it. The first set seemed almost random and the second set either a mockery of the text book second set or something sublime. Aside from the debut of Mock song, it didn't seriously impact my wish list. Ghost would have been nice, but I've seen it. Apparently, Hood and YEM hadn't been played recently - so there was hope. Divided Sky seemed out, but I was still excited.

Entry and parking at the Gorge was rather easy, and will call almost joyful. Instead of having to deal with careless venue people we got to work with a phish staffer who apologized profusely for the shipping foul up.

We entered the amphitheater early to try to score posters, but apparently they were all sold out on night one. I liked how Cinci split the allotment 50/50 so some one-nighters had a chance of getting the litho. Oh well. The amphitheater itself was very pleasant - aside from some recently installed safety fence. The view of the Columbia river gorge was unreal: rocky bluffs, dry brown sand and sapphire blue water.

Interestingly, the venue is not remotely symmetric. We took a seat on the top tier of the terraced part of the lawn - surprisingly close to the stage, Page side. This side also happened to offer the best view of Nature's show and provided smoke clearing breezes. It was nice to just sit and relax for a couple hours, pre-show. I enjoyed watching the crowd. Two older couples sat in front of us, without any youth to draw them in. Its nice to see Phish reach across generations to older (presumably Dead Head) folk who actually seem to live normal lives. Old wookies don't count. A rat's a rat regardless of the tour.

West coast chicks weren't so hippie as New England or even the mid west. The bikini top seems to be favored over the apron shirt in this part of the country. There were a few home made dresses but it wasn't a fashion show - unless you were looking for gaudy tinfoil club wear that both Mike and I would find embarrassing if it was in our closets.

I had tried to guess the opener, but couldn't think of anything sunshiny enough to kick things off. Runaway Jim certainly did the trick, though. The second song was a new number "Scents and Subtle Sounds". It's a very sectional song, like much of the Round Room material and even included composed fight bell parts. It was a really touching song, with some great lines. I thought a lot about Kate during this tune, and it brought a joyful tear to my eye as I could thing of no song that I'd rather sing with her in our off kilter - out of key fashion. I hope to hear this one a lot on the future.

The Axilla/Carini combo was a nice dose of high octane rock, with a little exploration.

Dog Faced Boy was a rapid cool down, but it set the stage nicely for Round Room - which I had wanted to hear. I love Mike Songs. The sun started to set, and I was hoping for Divided, but the band offered up something even better to provide a soundtrack as the sun fell behind a hill. Interestingly, Kuroda had not been lighting the show at all until this point. Nature was enough. The Halley's was very joyful, and broke into a high energy happy jam. The tune even got Pat bopping around a bit. Towards the end of the jam, Mike played a whistle/synthetic bag pipe thing. It was cool and unexpected.

Guyute was a nice romp/ I haven't heard it for a while. Mike also brought out his new toy for a section of this tune.

It was late in a long set and I expected a quick rocker to close, but the band defied expectations and lay out a fun YEM. The lights weren't quite ready for the tune - it was too bright , but the band didn't relent. Pat seemed to dig the tune, or at least sections - especially the tramps jam, and ensuing funk. I don't know how Mike can slap out such funky bass lines while performing the trampoline choreography. The vocal jam was rather lengthy, and ended in some odd screaming.

It was a great set, I couldn't have asked for better.

Set II opened with the surprise Llama. It stretched out a little in the fast tempo style of the song - but didn't go too far out. That was for the Wolfman's, which went funky and beyond. It segued into Jesus Just left Chicago. Page really hit the vocals well, and soloed with a lot of blues energy.

7 below -> my left toe -> 7 below was an insane, very sectional jam. I think that there was a MLT or at least a Siket tune in the middle, but I'm uncertain. This was definitely the most exploratory improv of the night. I really got a kick out of it when Fishman grew tired of Trey's dissonant sonic youth type stuff and just hit out a tremendously rocking beat. The band locked on and the jam soared.

The hood that followed may have been the best Hood that I've heard. They played around with the intro for a while (always a good sign) and even teased 7 below (which made me laugh out loud). The hood chant is much less practiced on the west coast. I even got some dirty looks from confused folks. The tension/release jam after the Mr. Minor section had a bit more teeth than was common in recent years. It wasn't just about some new age groove. It was a journey from the Minor to the point of feeling good about hood.

The chalkdust closer was also noteworthy, there seemed to be a time signature change - at least unusual syncopation- during the ham. It wasn't just a look out, close the set tempo.

The first tube encore was perfect. It was the new tune that Pat really wanted to hear, and they rocked out, riding the peak hard.

It was a great show, and icing on the cake of a great trip. I'll get deep and introspective again after I sleep, and shower, and smell less bad.

posted by Ben at (1) comments 11:11 PM

 
The last day of hiking. Hints of a Bodhisattva tree.

White River Campground - Mt. Rainier National Park: Saturday

I gather under a tree to write in my journal, hopefully keeping it out of this light rain. It’s the second rain of the trip, and the first to come at an annoying time. The rain struck during dinner, as Pat was prepping the second or third round of hash browns. The frying pan was small and our stomachs big. A couple extra rounds might have been appreciated. As I write, Pat's calling Jodie on the park pay phone.

Our day began rife with unresolved tensions. We set out on the trail for the Elkhorn glacier. Not too long after starting, we saw an antlered Elk on the path. He bounded off rather quickly. The approach path stopped a lithe shy of the glacier's rock covered bottom. We bush whacked, and followed old climbers paths along the edge of the moraine, passing the gaping yawp that spewed forth the White River. Further up the glacier, there was less accumulated rock fall but more cracking. The woods that we bush whacked through were the dustiest that I have ever seen. Pat and I were caked in the muck by the end of the hike. After approaching the glacier for some time, we decided to scramble up on a ridge to a modest, rocky peak. The views were great, unfortunately there was no safe way to approach a giant glacial waterfall across the Elkhorn. Sometime about now the tension started to abate. It was about time.

Our goal was to get to a look out tower on a distant peak, so we walked the ridge until we reached some snow fields descending to the adjacent valley. There was a steep climbers path on the side, which we followed until it was time to cross a number of streams and jump a river/ Fortunately, the silicone that we picked up at REI seemed to be working. Our boots were dry. We followed the path on the other side down river until it joined one ascending the Burroughs - a series of peaks extending from Rainier to our target.

During the ascent we encountered a marmot, which I had hoped to photograph, but it was moving along the trail faster and lower than my lens liked. He made it past a bend before I could shoot him, but before we reached that spot he was back and running down the hill. I took a shot or two until I realized that a second, enraged marmot was coming at me. I snapped an undirected photo that I hope was at it and the flash gave the creature pause before it ran and hid behind a bush. We also saw a marmot sunning itself on a rock projecting from the summit of one of the Burroughs - the one with the stone couch.

Unfortunately, by the time we were up, Rainier had clouded in and was obscured. Our view of the other peaks in the region was still pretty good. Aside from some snowfields, it was a gentle hike across the Burroughs to Frozen Lake (which was only half frozen). From there, we headed towards the Freemont mountain lookout, along a well traveled ridge trail.

I was pleased that after an extensive day of hiking that we were passing most of the folks who drove halfway up the mountain. Unfortunately, when we got to the lookout it was in cloud. I did enjoy the chance to observe the structure. Was Kerouac's on desolation so small? There was barely room for the beds and the desk. I was pleased to see the cheat-sheet labeled panoramas on the trim for almost all of the windows.

Our descent along the wonderland trail was rather uneventful. I enjoyed hiking a section of this trail - which forms a ring around rainier. It was pleasant, forested, and quite gorgeous. There was a lofty waterfall not too far below the Sunrise campground. It seemed as though the couple we saw there was engaged in post proposal celebrations. We didn't stop to sip champagne and left them to their moments.

It was a long day hike, but it provided a nice end to the hiking portion of this experience. The rocky peaks around rainier were simply breathtaking. Pat's already planning to come back for the summit.

Last night - after I finished writing, I spent some time lying on our picnic table staring at a tree 0 what started out as thoughts on how to best capture the essence of the tree (this time Japanese flat brush painting) shifted to contemplations of other potential combinations for this week. Similar thoughts entered my head on the trail. On Mt. Adams, had we pressed on to the Lunch Counter (9000 ft) instead of camping at crescent glacier - this might have been very different. I was in good shape, and wanted to go further up when Pat decided it was dinner time and said that I shouldn't push too hard in high altitudes. So I spent the night acclimatizing to 7000ft instead of 9000 which may have increased my difficulties at the summit. Had the summit hike been smoother, Rainier may still have been on the table. It would require a 3 day block of time taking us from Tuesday-Thursday or if we needed a town day for waterproofing Wed-Friday. Either way, we wouldn't have enough time to get to Olympic National Park (5-6 hrs from Rainier) and see anything of value before the phish show. Especially, given that pat's itinerary (which involved a 2 am wakeup to get to the summit) would have left us too exhausted to do much the following day. Rainier would have eaten the whole vacation and cut off what I felt was valuable and educational time. My favorite hike was up to Bogachiello. I'm glad that we sought variety and not the summits of two of the Cascade's tallest Volcanoes. I can't imagine being as fulfilled by that itinerary.

posted by Ben at (0) comments 5:17 PM

 
Angry writing is rarely poetry.

White River Campground - Mt. Rainier National Park: Friday

Sometimes I wonder what is it that makes a person happy and why is it that people spend such time trying to make others happy at their own, unindicated expense?

After hiking 9 miles and driving 6 hours, Pat was in an unusually crabby mood. We drove up to the Summit Lodge (as planned for dinner). The lodge wasn't the nice, park restaurant that we were expecting. It was more of a Ski Lodge snack bar or like the thing a top of Mt. Washington. Of course, its perch on a hill offered spectacular views of rainier. I really enjoy eating out when I travel, and figured that since we were up there we could eat there. Pat didn't voice disagreement. He simply stated "eat here, or cook back at the site". Since I hadn't eaten meat since arriving in WA, and had done a lot of physical activity necessitating protein consumption, I figured we could eat there. It was a bit pricey, but not too unreasonable. $6.50 swissburger w/ fries and $2.00 for a drink.

During the meal, in the gift shop, and waiting for him to get off of the phone with Jodie, I felt very disharmonious. It had been building all day - but I started thinking of things that I'd write in my journal when I realized that was a foolish way to avoid solving the problem. So on the drive back I asked Pat what was up and why he was such a ball of stress. It wasn't long before things became ugly. He said that he didn't really want to eat there, but conceded that it was the only restaurant option as driving out to civilization was deemed too taxing. I recall a long drive between Mexico Beach and that state park we stayed at for a few days of Spring Break in Florida. I grew to enjoy those drives/ f course, they may not be to Pat's tastes - and certainly that is understandable after half a day of nearly continuous driving. Now, I don't want Pat to be my chauffeur, but he doesn't feel comfortable with me driving because he didn't pay $15 a day for an extra driver. I think bending the rules would be ok if it relieved an ill tempered driver who was putting rage, not even reasoned aggression behind the wheel.

From there our argument shifted to my being inflexible and trying to have things my way. My only sticking point has been eating out when we can. He then inverted his point to be that I'm not really asserting my will enough. Why can't he understand that when I say that all I want is to see a variety of things and sample local restaurants that’s all I need to be happy? What more complicated things does he need? Is this just home/Jodie sickness talking or is there a more complicated issue?
I think that he really wanted to do Mt. Rainier. Of course, in our initial planning before he came out west we'd decided 3 days in Olympic National Park, Mt. St. Helens, Mt. Hood and to leave room for some interesting climbs that he might hear about at NOLS. We decided that the 3 days required for an ascent of Rainier was not an economical use of our limited time. Rainier was off of the table before I got here - But after a month of technical glacier training Pat wants to show off his new skills and conquer this noble volcano.

I can't blame him, but I know that I'd just piss him off if I was along. I seem to piss him off enough as is. Yes, I'm having a good time 0 but I'm not having the great last crazy adventure for two brothers that I was expecting. Maybe that was an unfair expectation. Pat isn't a freewheeling spontaneous guy, and I'm not really either - but I cm simulate the appearance with a flexible variety of plans.

Lets just say that if both Pat and I were driving down a road, near dinner time and saw a Pirate ship restaurant - only one of us would stop. Fortunately, there are no pirate ships here to divide us.

I did mention that his constant use of maps was annoying. This chronic fear of going wrong seemed eerily similar to some of Grandma's issues - although a bit more subtle. Anyway, he was upset that I hadn't been involved in much planning. I recall picking the Hoh rainforest over Easter and the St. Helens - Adams swap was a no brainier. Hood was nixed due to the glacier obstructing the trail (or more accurately a lack of glacier creating an impasse). I also don't think that its fair to say I wasn't involved in the planning of the Rainier Nat'l park trip, which we did in the car at a gas station, with a map half out of my sight. I frequently staid " I can't really see but is there any…" and through questions directed him to our current plan - a loo[ to Elkins glacier and a couple of peaks. Of course, I haven't mentioned these last couple of things to him ye. Things were a little too heated (on his end) in the car to really facilitate a discussion. I think the fact that I am almost always relaxed while he is a stress ball only frustrates him. I just don't see how yelling at him would resolve this conflict.

Fundamentally, I am not sure what the key issue is. Rainier? Spending Money to eat out? Lack of sleep (this is apparently an issue of significant concern - dude complains about waking up at 6 after going to bed at 8) or is it misaligned priorities and an inability to effectively communicate individual needs. I speak mine plainly, but that may not be the best way. Perhaps, if they were veiled in layers of sarcasm they would be more clear. I doubt it. I just wish that we'd done this trip before the NOLS course when we could be wide eyed together as we explored this vast state.

My fascination with wildlife photography might be an annoyance as well. While I enjoy photographing unusual creatures, it usually seems to confuse Pat. On the hike to Bogachiel, a grouse and its grouslings were in the trail. The babies were arranging themselves delightfully on a log. I had to shoot them - but got yelled at for chasing after wildlife. I moved no more than two feet from where I first saw them to when they were all off of the trail, and both of those feet were along the maintained path.

He didn't seem too annoyed by my desire to photograph some of the Elk that we encountered this morning on our way out. I suppose that big game is more sporting quarry for photo safaris than birds. They are easy to focus on, but could take the photographer if they so desired.

The big surprise on our hike out, which I expected to be routine, was that we found ourselves amidst a herd of elk. At first it was just two calves eating off of the trail, we slowed hoping that the mother was on their side. Then a few steps later, we saw another elk on the trail. It bounded off into the woods before we could even get a good look. There were more on either side of the trail, motionless, with all of their eyes on us. Twice, when we thought that we were out of the herd we found more Elk: seeing at least 10 distinct animals, and certain that more were watching from the distance. Pat wondered if they were watching us more than we were watching them. Olympic national People Preserve.

The hike through the rainforest seemed faster than the hike in, I guess that I was less in awe and more focused on reaching the lot -especially after picking up some diapers from a couple hoping to bring their baby up to Hoh lake. An extra pound of useless crap (onces = pounds = pain) or a good turn? I know how I chose.

The drive was fairly continuous and uneventful; as Pat worried that the campground would be full. It wasn't, but others in the Park were.

If the weather holds tomorrow should be great fun with spectacular views. Mr. NOLS-It-All has thrown up his hands and said that he doesn't care what we do - so it's my time to explore.

-----

No, I sit beside a raging river with sounds of beating. The rush of water cascading down the slopes of Rainier is underscored by a perpetual thunder as stones are hefted by this water - the great force. The river is a muddy brown, soiled from glacial shaping of the land. Truly, this sight is of god's hand. It is the bountiful, ceaseless creation: the true marvel of this earth. It is not static - it pulses with life.

The park has set a log bridge across the White River and I stood upon it staring into the frothing hand. I watched in awe as small portions of the river's course changed before my eye. Rocks pilled up creating a pillow of leaping water where there once was a troth, while other mounds of surf disappeared - with thunder announcing the rock's movement. This white river is both soothing and inspiring. I feel cleansed, having had my legs baptized by stray droplets of the creator's broth.

posted by Ben at (0) comments 11:50 PM

 
Here are some stark naked notes on a day hike in the wilds.

Olympic Guard Station - Olympic National Park: Thursday

Early to bed, early to rise, or so the saying goes. But, I doubt Ben Franklin had to deal with the interruptions of a deer feeding beside his tent. In fact, I'd wager that his actual maxim involved bedding a lady. That's what those early hours were for…

I took a couple photos of the noisy black tailed deer. They were the best that I could do without actually leaving my tent.

I had a rough time getting to sleep. It was too early. The fact that I'd wake up at 6 didn't reset my body clock. Morning came, and I awoke foggy, rather groggy, and stumbled about for a bit before pumping some water and eating my oatmeal. The day's objective was Bogachiel Peak (5474), rising up at least 4500 ft from our current site along some 7+ miles of trail. When the book said that it was steep and that there were only 23 switchbacks I got a little worried. Mt. Adams got pretty steep near the top, and I'm used to an almost excessive number of switchbacks, as are found in the Whites. Apparently, in the West the switchbacks are very long, often more than 200 ft in length and laid out such that we ended up on top of a ridge west of our camp site when the trailhead was 0.6 miles to the east.

The hike from the ridge to Hoh lake was a bit more relaxed, and passed through a beautiful alpine meadow lush with vegetation. While clearly out of the rain forest, this piece of earth still received more than a fair helping of rain.

The clear green-blue waters of Hoh lake were a refreshing sight, especially as it was bordered by Alpine Ridges on almost every side. Some water escaped over a lofty, but trickling waterfall. There was a marmot on the opposite shore, which I hoped would wander into photo range. Something distracted it after it rounded a bend and was out of sight. I enjoyed studying the ecosystem of the cool clear pool, with little vegetation aside from some algae near the falls. Insects seemed to satisfy the diets of the native fish and frogs, the latter of whom showed no fear of the former - drifting and swimming lazily along the smooth surface. The fish seemed to be trout of some sort and would jump for anything that looked like a bug. I certainly missed my fly rod.

While Hoh lake provided no insight into the mysterious character of J.Ho, it did start me wandering about another puzzle. How did the fish end up in a small glacial pond over 4000ft up and 14 miles of trail from the nearest road? They couldn't swim up that gigantic waterfall. Could they be progeny of some prehistoric trout that were cryogenically frozen inside a glacier? Were they stocked by an ambitious backpacker? Or was a stocking plane stupid enough to drop steelhead into a small mountain lake? What purpose could that serve? Was it a mad plot to repopulate much of the Hoh river? I'd imagine many eggs and fry go over the falls.

The hike from the lake to the peak was mostly along a ridge offering stupendous views of heretofore invisible Mt. Olympus and its surrounding peaks. The most interesting feature of Olympus was an enormous glacier which crossed much of the mountain. It was buttressing at its edges - hundreds of feet high. The textured ice was quite distinct from this distant vantage point.

The peak [Bogachiel] was at a fork in the trail and seeing no summit route, we scrambled up rock and grass only to find side trials from either part of the fork lead to the summit. The peak may not be outstanding in terms of its height but it offered a panorama of the park, which I couldn't imagine being surpassed. If it is, tell me where.

There were clear views of Olympus and its neighbors bordering the Hoh river, and great views of the park north of the Hoh valley. Peaks rolled off to the blue horizon I had never fully appreciated the absolute hugeness of the park until I was upon a summit and couldn't see its end, except for hints of the pacific lying 20 miles to the west, but much of that obscured by snowy, or lush green peaks. The summit also offered glimpses of the 7 lakes, bright blue glacial bodies - filled with liquid sapphire. Pat says the blueness of the water comes from a lack of oxygen in snow and glacial melts. I'm not sure, but whatever it is - the lakes and even the bluish Hoh river are gorgeous.

During our descent from the peak we spotted what we think was a herd of 30+ elk lounging on a snowfield. The rocks just don't grow that color brown around here. The descent was uneventful, but grew tiring. 14.5 miles is a long day, even on easy trails.

Interestingly, it was cooler in the rain forest's bountiful shade than it was in the shady spots along the less densely forested mountainside - below the Alpine zone but above the river. Upon reaching camp, Pat and I went to refresh ourselves in the mighty and quite frigid Hoh. The current might have been stronger today. Every inch of my body touched that icy water at least twice. I cleaned with breath taking immersions, while Pat choose a less shocking method of cupping water. I think that he missed half of the fun. When I tried easing my back in, the cold water literally took my breath away. I wasn't too thrilled to be gasping at the time - but as a memory its pretty cool. Another punish word choice.

Dinner was a bizarre macaroni and cheese with dehydrated refried beans mixed in. It ended up being a little soupy and Pat completely wigged out when I pulled a plastic kitchen spoon from my pack. He saw it as such an insulting waste of weight that he refused to use it - and ladled his serving with his thin spatula.

The NOLS nazi strikes again. There's no cold hard theology to guide a hiker or backpacker n a spiritual quest in the outdoors. Aside from the rules of safety, nothing is concrete, and even those seem to change. I remember Pat yelling at me for sliding down part pf Mt. Washington with an ice axe in my hands. Now He'd encourage me to drop 1500 vertical feet with nothing but a grivel to stop me.

A mother and two baby deer are between my tent and the ranger station. They have very floppy ears and are moving away. It’s a very grassy and open area - it must seem like very easy food.

Interestingly, today's hike made me further contemplate and better appreciate the nature and makeup of the spiritual outdoor experience. While I have always tried to keep away from a summit focused fallacy, I can see how the Whites breed that sort of hiker. Almost all of the 4000 ftrs in NH are within a day hike from a road. Out here, it seems that few non-volcanic peaks are day-hike-able. Instead of placing an emphasis on the summit, the focus is on immersion in the wilderness. It is the proper order of things. The views from the ridges and the view from Hoh lake may have satisfied me more than the view from the top. Perspective is key in the panorama of mountains. I can't think of a single Ansel Adams photo taken at a summit. He captured the west in black and white. It is not a place to experience from the highest heights, but with every footstep.

-------------

I flew the kite out on the rocks in the riverbed. It worked well for a while, but then the wind died and the kite landed in a stream. I tried to fly it again, but it ended up waffling and landing in the black dust that collects near the rocks. I wished it, and its still drying as I sit in my tent awaiting sleep - or a need to go outside. The kite provided a good excuse to stand out and stare at mountains.

I spooked a couple who were camping on the island, but they were fully clothed - not really an issue. (the guy wasn't really fully clothed - but close enough)/ I think that their books were a little too engrossing so they didn't hear me thrash through the woods.

The campground is much more crowded than yesterday. It seems like a lot of people are stopping here on their way to ascend Olympus. Its too bad many will skip this day hike that offers such views.

posted by Ben at (1) comments 11:03 PM

 
I had hoped to bundle the next two or three entries from my Washington journal together, but time and my increasing verbosity limits me. I have to pack for Maine, go to the bank, visit the Library to check on Of Paradise and Power, and get to bean town before the New Deal starts playing a free show opening for the equally free Reid Genauer and the assembly of Dust.

Here is an entry describing the day I met a Rainforest.


Olympic Guard Station - Olympic National Park: Wednesday

The bubbly sounds of the Hoh River sooth me as I write. Some 9 miles from road, and even farther from civilization, we are immersed in the Hoh Rain Forest. Dinner will be pizzas. The bread is exploding from Pat's lunch tin, rising with yeasty good ness. I think that man should endeavor to consume at least one yeast product daily. These little creatures truly are "man's best friend".

Out here in the wilds there seems to be increased conflict between myself and my brother. I'm not sure of the cause, and thus unclear of a way to resolve it. It isn't an issue of control, as I basically let Pat pick out stuff with only two standing edicts and a request for variety. My constraints are rather reasonable. 1) No planned half ascents of rainier. I don't want to deal with the whole "So you climbed Rainier halfway in good weather" thing. We decided that is time constraints and the difficulty of acclimatization wouldn't make it the best use of our time. We will visit its base and play on some glaciers but not ascend to Camp Muir only to turn around. My other request was that we don't go to the North Cascades and repeat Pat's NOLS class. It would seem obvious, but he's suggested visiting the same camps and peaks that he hit on his course. While limited knowledge of the area may be partially responsible, I'd rather not go on some month old nostalgia trip, or worse yet encourage Mr. NOLS-It-all. I'd rather enjoy time with my brother.

He really had a fot when, after loosing a bottle out of the mesh pockets on my pack while descending Mt. Adams (on my butt) I still packed my bottles in their pockets. While I will agree that its not a good place to put them while glaciding, the folks at LL Bean who diligently designed the pack weren't overly fanciful about pocket utility. Pat's just being overly dogmatic about things that he learned at NOLS. He's always seemed to have difficulty recognizing that people who may know a little less about some technical aspects of camping are not completely ignorant about everything. He actually thought that I knew nothing about protecting food from bears! I can't count the number of times the techniques were discussed as part of a Skill during our troop meetings, nor the number of times they were practiced on a Scout trip.

The chances of a bear going after your food at Franconia Falls are probably a bit less than they are in one of the Nations largest wild parks, where a herd of Elk will cross a parking lot, but prevention is practiced in both locales. No one wants a critter tearing apart a bag or a tent for food anymore than they want their cars broken into.

I hope that Pat's mid afternoon journaling has helped mellow his mood. He may have been out here too long to appreciate another day in the wilds.

Today was another day in the wilds, in a land as different from New England forests as I could imagine a woods still treed by spruce and firs. Today we entered the Hoh Rainforest, a glacial valley facing the Ocean that receives over 140 inches of rain annually. The visitors center is some 13 wooded miles from US 101, so deep in the woods that a herd of Elk unapologetically strolled across the parking lot as we were walking back from paying our hikers double taxation. $10 per vehicle park fee + $13 backcountry permit. Sam Adams, where are you? I didn't have my camera so I lost the opportunity to shoot these graceful beasts with elegant antlers and a golden brown hide. My camera hasn't left my side since.

Before beginning our trek, we walked along the self-guided trail "The Hall of Mosses". This loop explored the environs of the rainforest. This great hall of mosses was naturally spacious with ceilings suspended far above on pillars as thick as four men, or even larger still. The colors were pulled from an unimaginable palate of greens, lush dark and shady to bright youthful and sunny shades with textures as varied as bark and lace.

I took a lot of pictures, but I'm not sure if I captured the space which defined the Hall of Mosses. There was so much life, but also volumes of air disturbed only by waves of sound coming from a songbird. It was a patient, graceful forest with giant trees and plentiful mosses. The closest thing that I have seen to it was Yoda's swamp on Dagobah.

One thing that I really enjoyed about the trail was that part of it journeyed beside a 190 ft trunk from a spruce. This trunk was still missing part of the tree top, but gave a physical sense for these trees great height.

Another tidbit, was that competition on the ground is so intense that tree seedlings cannot survive. They only sprout on logs of older, dead trees. Are these trees reincarnations, cannibals, or is this just a sign that death begets life? Some bow-legged trees were shaped by straddling their nurse log before it could decay.

The Hoh River trail offered fewer views than the name would suggest. It followed the river, but did so at a polite obstructed distance, winding through rainforest with these that seemed increasingly larger, but simultaneously less surprising. They are majestic and played tricks on the mind as they entered peripheral vision. There was one mountain view very near the visitors center, but apart from that, nothing. If I hadn't foolishly wanted to swim in the chilling waters of the Hoh River, I may not have ventured across our little streamlet to the adjacent island and witnessed a gorgeous panorama of the mountains bordering our valley. I snapped a number of photos studying the mountains, the river, and the relationship between them. I'm most interested in seeing the ones that I took while fighting the currents of the river.

One interesting thing of note is the decreased tree resolution of the mountains. IN the whites it doesn't take much distance for the forests to blend into one canopy. Here, all that I can see are distinct trees giving their land some additional shape.

The thing that makes me wonder if my brother is loosing interest is that even as I enthusiastically told him about the view, he was uninterested in taking his sneakers off to cross the stream and see the view. Why are we here, if not to see as much as we can?

Pat's backcountry pizzas were pretty good. Again, not exactly filling but ok. At this point, Pat's trained to eat constantly, but not in quantity. I still like 2.5 meals a day.

After dinner, Pat conceded to the crossing and enjoyed the view. But later when I returned from the latrine, wanting to ask Woody Guthrie why "This land is your land, this land is my land" was stuck in my head, and why Natalie Merchant's Ophelia backup singer was doing vocals, Pat seemed lost in thought. I asked what he was thinking about, and he replied, "What I'll do when I get home." Hmmmm.

posted by Ben at (0) comments 3:44 PM

 
Not much introspectiveness today. We acquired some equipment for the wireless network. Soon it will be ready.... sooon. I also fooled around with Phish's "from the road", and checked out the flash video for mike's single. That's a lot of mike.

From the Road.
SoulFoodMan
posted by Ben at (0) comments 11:19 PM

 
This entry recounts a day of rest and transition.

Kalaloch Beach Campground - Olympic National Park: Tuesday

As I sit beside this silver ocean, I wonder if I wasted precious daylight waxing my boots when I could have been basking in the sea and surf. Gone now is the luster of the shining pacific. Its now cloud gray awaiting a sunset uninterrupted by land.

Today was a light hike/travel day. I guess Pat's sensibilities won out in the end. We began the day with oatmeal in a light Columbia rain. The weather didn't detract us from exploring Beacon Rock state park. We hiked up to Little Beacon Rock for a foggy view of Beacon Rock and the surrounding gorge. As we made our way further on our oath we observed a thin waterfall jet from rock down into a waiting pool. Our view was from a perch above this water, and the site limited access to the basin beneath the falls. Pat was perturbed as he had hoped to shoot some extended exposure photos of the falls. I didn't mind so much as the skewed overhead vantage point provided insight into the water's leap from rock face. Further up the trail, but likely the same stream, we found The Pool of Winds. This pool is part of a chamber bored into rock by the stream, with only a narrow entry way separating a giant basin and sizeable waterfall. I'm not sure how the large tree trunk became so perfectly lodged in the flow of water. Was this a prank played by some logger, or a bizarre natural circumstance? The log showed little sign of decay, but at the same time, I can't imagine this shallow stream moving a log in even the highest waters.

After exploring the waterfalls we crossed the street and ascended Beacon Rock. It was a well crafted - over maintained railing guided climb up an otherwise shear and jagged rock. From the walkway, we could see much of the western part of the gorge and a house built out of a geodesic dome. My camera battery died before I could shoot it. So much for that indicator on the lcd. The summit offered views of both sides of the gorge as fogy plumes awoke and rose from their beds in the crags and crevices. The view offered an aerial look at the technological sublime of a hydro-electric dam traversing the gorge with three different sections.

Our car travels took us to REI in Portland. Pat exchanged a helmet that he bought for me in case we ended up doing some really technical stuff. I'm more interesting in seeing a sampling of Washington's offerings than devoting lots of time to reach a really technical spot. We also replaced my lost nalgene and scored some silicone waterproofing for our boots. I became especially dissatisfied with the state of my boots' waterproofing during our descent through Mt. Adams' melting snow.

We took lunch at the Salmon Creek Brewery in downtown Vancouver, WA/ Their Scotch Ale boasted of blending British malts with local Yakima hops. It was an interesting, mild brew, but not exactly true to style. The house root beer was quite creamy - Pat ordered a glass. My lunch salad was ok and filled with green things but nothing to write home about.

The afternoon was dedicated to the drive to Olympic National Park. It was quite a haul/ We at dinner at the Kalaloch lodge - the only game in town - and dined on clam chowder. Snapper almondine and lemon pepper halibut. It was both tasty and pricey. Typical National Park conditions/ We had a seat with a gorgeous view of bleached logs of driftwood and the rolling Pacific. Hanging plants by the windows encouraged local hummingbirds to promenade.

The tide is rising and starting to roar as the waves break in their approach to shore. Oh ocean, I know you not as well as I would my own, but in your reflections, I see signs of home. With quite contemplation, I skittered through your surf like a long legged seagull searching for a meal. My quest was less basic but no less essential. I sought connection to your bountiful waters. It didn't come from wading, but perhaps I can find it by watching and listening. So, I begin my notes on a Pacific Sunset.

Pink and hazel fogs cross to the horizon and the distant peninsula. Fizz. Roar / Yawn. The sounds of the sea stretch beyond vision.

The clouds above become more distinct and hint at purple.

My interest in writing wanes as yellows being in to show/

The blues in the sky are more apparent, defining the gray cloud cover with a smooth hand.

The tranquil sunset moves me tow rite of the news that Kate's grandmother passed away. It was a sad July 4th, when Kate heard that here grandmother's time was limited. After 20 years of battling cancer, this inevitable end must have seemed forever at bay. I wished that I could comfort her now, as I did then but distance, cell phone troubles, and an equally problematic payphone dashed any hopes I had. I'm glad that I had on two occasions met this fine lady and enjoyed her oft regaled desserts. It is not much of a connection but it is a link to grasp and relate to Kate's memories and experiences.

The purple clouds are gliding towards the horizon on course for their destiny.

posted by Ben at (0) comments 4:54 PM

 
MHart0124: you know, my life has changed since I've bought my first pair of Tevas
- Mark Hartman after recently returning from active duty in Iraq and Kuwait.
posted by Ben at (0) comments 12:23 AM

 
I'm typing my journal up unedited, with the raw incoherence of some of my ramblings, and perhaps the raw essence of the experience. I will edit and polish the tale for a photo page that I will put together after snapfish finishes with my stuff. Here are the first two entries in my notebook, comprising the accounts of my arrival and Exploits until I slept in Beacon Rock Campground.



Near Crescent Glacier - Mt. Adams: Sunday

"I just got buzzed by a humming bird," said I as a black torpedo shot across the glacier/snowfield.

"Yeah, they do that. They're crazy." Pat replied as he fussed with his sleeping bag, near the tent.

The fire is on melting snow for some form of "spaghetti" with elbow macaroni, and lots of nuts. We were stupid and forgot to fill our water bottles at the ranger station, so we'll be melting our water tonight.

I also must note that I am disappointed in the burdensome tax Washington has levied against the hiker. A $15 permit is required to pass the tree line on some mountains, or to ascend others. The permit system for Mt. St. Helens was particularly inconvenient for us, and since all of the permits sold out last night before I landed the volcano may be crossed off of our tour list. We'll se hoe things shape up with the weather and the mountains.

The flight from MHT to DET was rather bumpy. The pilot ascended and descended rather steeply. Also, there was something wrong with the plane. Upon landing, they started noisily repairing it before I stepped off. I ate a slice of pizza in Detroit. $2.95 for 3/4 of a $6.00 personal pan from the pizza place. The flight from DET to SeaTac was much smoother but, clocking in at over 4 hours, was a bit long. I sat next to two Tanzanians and across the isle from a school teacher from SE Washington who was returning from a trip to Paris. His daughter is a Chem E from U. Washington.

The rain fly just fell off of the kromholtz tree I propped it up to dry on. I suppose I should pause to put it on. Pat's doing some sort of alchemy over the whisperlite.

I got involved in the alchemy, unfortunately there were some results which upset pat. My pot holder, which isn't very great, requires a lipped vessel to supply any support beyond the compression offered by flimsy aluminum. Unfortunately, Pat's fry/baker doesn't qualify. I was called in to hold it level while he fryed some sunflower seeds and mixed in brown sugar. The whisperlite was too hot.

Caw - said some non-crow bird. It's pretty big.

Pat's very frustrated by cooking troubles. He doesn't want my help either.

I guess he got too little sleep. I didn't think that the crankiness would manifest itself so soon.

- Dinner Time -

The meal was good, but portions were a tad small. That’s fine. We ate big at El Presidente for lunch.

After dinner, when the breeze picked up as a prelude to sunset, I set to flying my backpacking kite. It was a cute Christmas gift a few years ago that I haven't had a chance to put to use. It was fun, but kept me from recording my thoughts about the intervening days.

Anyway, one thing that I really enjoyed about the flight was that the skies were very clear most of the way. I was tracking our location by using natural landmarks for a while. At one point, I could see both sides of lake Michigan. I believe that our route took us north of Milwaukee, but south of Green Bay. I saw the Door county peninsula jut off. We went south of Ashland, a town near a big lake and crossed the Mississippi north of Lacrosse. I saw the bend near there from the south facing window. After the Mississippi I lost any good signs to a land of 10,000 lakes. That was about when they served dinner, and I fell into an intermittent sleep which lasted until the pilot announced that we could see Mt. Rainier. Wow, that’s a big rock rising up out of a range of much smaller peaks.

Pat met me at baggage claim, and we took our rental car towards Mt. St. Helens. He was amazed that I had no trouble staying awake until well after 3 am eastern. Maybe I was half adjusted to Pacific time. I seem to have a lot less of a problem here than I do with central time.

We camped near a lake between St. Helens and the Store that collected the hiker tax. There were some big Douglas firs there. Some of 4-6 feet in diameter. Trees that Kate mentioned that after reading The Interrupted Forrest that she'd like to see. Big trees remind me of her. That's silly.

Breakfast plans for the morning were foiled as my stove refused to ignite. It was clogged. This is surprising for a virgin stove. That coupled with St. Helens 50 hiker limit sent us to Portland to find an REI.

Portland seems a bit more rundown than I expected. Certainly there are some interesting things: a nice convention center, a gated China Town, and pleasant shops but it seemed that the buildings were dingy with shadows of Cleveland - but without a valley of steel mills and refineries to explain it. Could paper be that much of an influence?

On that note, the drive from our site to Portland traversed a lot of area with evidence of clear cuts. I felt funny about them. The chilling regularity of the trees in the quilted forest is unsettling, but at the same time I use plenty of paper. I'm even writing this on some. I don't feel that I can claim that clear cutting is wrong until I can think of a way to tree farm that is better both ecologically and for the business.

After finding an REI to repair the stove, we crossed into Vancouver WA to eat lunch. Unfortunately, the Salmon Creek brewpub was closed. We ended up at El Presidente stuffing ourselves at little cost.

We drove along the Oregon side of the Columbia river gorge to approach the mountain. The spires of basalt, waterfalls, and ridges were quite captivating. It was also interesting to note the general hubbub of use of the river by recreationists. Below the damn, there were a number of fishing boats/yachts in this grande river. Above it, flotillas of windsurfers and kite-surfers danced with their colorful sails like a school of fish in a small pool.

The Mt. Adams ascent was generally pleasant. A wide, smooth trail guided us to tree line . The rest was a mix of snow fields and pock marked volcanic rock. It was too warm for rhine ice, so no crampons were needed. Nothing was scary until the corniced bank we are camping atop of, and that wasn't bad yet. So far, the views of Mt. Hood have been fantastic. Looking in that direction we can see the land below us shift from lush to arid as the pacific humidity is blocked by the mountains.

Watching the sunset over Mt. St. Helens was quite nice. As its hazy shroud lifted in purples and pinks.

All is well at 8000+ ft. I'm going to put on some socks and get to sleep,


Beacon Rock Campground - the Columbia River Gorge: Monday

The ascent of Mt. Adams was a success. We awoke by six and prepared a breakfast of cheesy bagels before ascending the snowy slopes of this 12,276 ft mountain: the second tallest in Washington. I made it to the Lunch counter without too much difficulty, but grew weary climbing the ski-slope sized incline to the Pikers Peak false summit. Once we left the marked trail just above our site it was free range hiking towards the summit. For simplicity and ease of hiking we followed others footprints up the hill.

Somewhere between the false and true summits a combination of dehydration and altitude sickness sapped my energy. While I could move muscles without pain or soreness, I lacked the energy to move more than 10 steps without stopping to breath and relax. Pat was relatively patient with my difficulties in the ascent. A month of trekking around over a mile high had acclimatized him quite well.

We summated by noon. Regardless the views of Ranier, St. Helens, Hood, and the distant Olympics were spectacular.

The descent was more interesting as much of it involved glaciding - a fancy technical term for sliding down the snowfields on your butt. Using an ice axe to control my speed, I descended from the summit dome. Somewhere along the way I lost my Government Mule water nalgene. I still need to acquire a replacement.

Before starting our second glacide, from the false summit to the Lunch Counter Pat asked if I would like to go first. "Sure", I replied. "That way if I loose another water bottle you can pick it up." This amused a fellow relaxing on some neighboring rocks.

This glacide was wall traveled, providing us with a luge track to guide us in our 1500+ ft vertical descent - more fun than any water slide. Pat and I created our own mini avalanches and rode down a slope in 5 minutes that had taken 2-3 hours to ascend. It was grand.

We hiked back to our site, broke camp and did a steep high speed glacide down to the little valley below us. It was wild, bumpy, and very fast.

After packing out and driving 13 miles of logging road back to "town" we headed towards Mt. Hood and the town of Hood River for dinner On the Oregon side of the gorge, this seemed to be the nearest moderately sized community. We stopped at Horsefeathers, the Big Horse Brewery and Restaurant.

I ordered the beer sampler, while Pat enjoyed Weinhard's root beer. He ordered the smoked salmon quesadillas appetizer as a dinner, which we ended up splitting when my salmon fettuccini became delayed. The quesadilla combined plenty of salmon with apples and seasonings to make a surprisingly tasty dish

The salmon fettuccini was also quite enjoyable. It was in a cream sauce that accented the salmon flavor. This also contained apple chunks. These must be the secret to cooking salmon in the Pacific Northwest. The sampler contained 9 different beers, most of which (6) were rather dark. Most of the brews had that Cascade tang but were rather subtle with that hopping. The Summer stood out as a surprisingly malty Pale Ale with as much body as zing. Interestingly, the winter, porter, and stouts which were a little watery in texture were much better compliments to the creamy salmon fettuccini than I had expected. The porter was unusually woody, which really fit the smoked fish much better than the Old Port Porters (both cherry and regular) did in Port Washington, WI.

After dinner, we drove the modest distance to beacon Rock campground on the Washington side of the gorge. Beacon Rock is something to behold. Its some sort of a jagged puzzle piece behemoth rising from the river.

Somehow, I feel that the waters of the Columbia will have many a part to play in this week.

As an aside, I will note that while windsurfer traffic had dramatically decreased from Sunday, Kite Surfers were more prevalent. I enjoyed watching them from our elevated perch at the microbrewery.

posted by Ben at (0) comments 12:10 AM

 
Since I'm typing my old journal, I'm not taking the time to be self-reflective. I do recognize that posting regularly keeps people I don't know (or haven't identified) like SUNY Brockport and NET1Plus coming back. Here's the content, which is useful for my records anyway. My Phantasy Phish picks.

Pick (pts) Song
Set 1 Opener (9) Chalkdust Torture
Set 1 Wildcard (5) Run Like An Antelope
Set 1 Closer (7) Walls of the Cave
Set 2 Opener (8) Mike's Song
Set 2 Wildcard (4) Also Sprach Zarathustra
Set 2 Closer (6) Pebbles and Marbles
Encore (5) Tweezer Reprise
Wildcard (3) Sample in a Jar
Cover (4) Funky Bitch
One-timer (15) Halley's Comet


This link will take you to my standings.

posted by Ben at (0) comments 10:41 PM

 
I'm back from the wilds. I won't write much, as I didn't get much sleep last night/this morning. Whatever. Planning to sleep at airports/on planes was not wise. I'm all deja vuey. I did keep a journal out there, and will type it and post it.
posted by Ben at (0) comments 10:34 PM

 
Strolling through the walk-man section of best buy, I noticed that new crappy features have started to weasel good features out of CD-discmans. I was shopping to replace the one that was stolen last week, and it seems that when I purchased it last fall I acquired the last of a dying breed of quality players with simple useful features. Yes, it played Mp3s and read CD-RWs (features I don't intend to use, but don't really blame Sony for adding - its all firmware). What upsets me is that now sony doesn't make a single discman with both a headphone jack and a line out to deliver consistent quality sound to a car stereo or to my computer. Even their tape adapter kit is optimized for the headphone jack. Instead of this crucial feature, sony is shoving radios, tv tuners, and mp3 storage into their models. Who uses this stuff? Sony is still bundling a number of discmans with car kits. I can't be the only one who wants to listen to cds when I'm on the road, but is still too cheap to get a car CD player.
posted by Ben at (0) comments 11:05 PM

 
Damn you musictoday! Damn you! My tickets to see Phish at the gorge are scheduled to ship today, and because of the 4th, arrive on July 7th. The problem is that on July 5th, I hop a flight to Seattle and will be bumming around in the wilds until the show. Supposedly, tickets were supposed to ship 2nd Day Air via UPS in the week following June 16th. This horror of scheduling is entirely the fault of Musictoday. Apparently the ticket printer (selected by musictoday) forgot to put barcodes on all of the Phish tickets causing horrific delays. Fortunately, there is a way to resolve this conflict. I'm in the process of having my tickets sent to will call. I am unfamiliar with the process of will-call but anticipate that it will involve a lot of standing in a line. We'll just have to get there early, if we still hope to get a poster (if they have posters).

I'm back in NH right now, organizing stuff and getting my window fixed. It looks like I'll be heading to Boston for the fourth. We'll go see the 1812 overture played properly, with cannons, catch some fireworks and relax. Originally, Kate and her roommates were planning to throw a hosewarming/4th of July party. They forgot to invite people and plan it, so it's been postponed; apparently to next week (whilst I'm in the wilds) but Kate's hoping to change that. We'll see. If I'm around area Phi Taus will certainly be invited. You may be invited regardless - who knows. Harvard Party!!

I read the
The Interrupted Forest: A History of the Maine Wildlands by Neil Rolde - a former Maine State Senator. The book starts be discussing the current state of Maine's wildlands and the various viewpoints of conservationists, industry, the preservationists and the property rights (read rights to others' properties) groups. He then explores the history of Maine's land ownerships and how the state reached a point where corporations own massive tracts of land, often allowing people to build on company land for little or no payment. The history starts with colonization and moves briskly to the present, only getting mired in the post-revolutionary land speculation. While it's nice to know that Henry Knox bought a lot of land, the names of every other major speculator makes tiring reading. It was a thought provoking read, and it coupled with my cog railway epiphany and impending trip to the west coast's wildlands with my brother - who after a month of total immersion with like minded individuals is probably a radical environmentalist - may lead to some profound conclusions.

I wonder how many times in the next week my brother will say "I'd rather kill a man than a snake."

posted by Ben at (0) comments 8:50 AM