El Viaje

Cakeasaurus

2011-02-09T15:57:00.001-08:00

I'm packing up and getting ready to leave Texas City. My plan is to make my way to Moab in southeastern Utah. I'm meeting the NavUnit, the SecurityChief, and Julius there. They're going to be driving down from Corvallis for a few days. I don't know the exact details of what we'll be doing but I'm sure some mountain biking and rock climbing will be involved. I'm looking forward to our outing. Moab was one of the areas I visited during my original leave of absence and it's high on my list of places to revisit.

It's been a mix of different types of work since my last entry. In early November I decided to take on a contract job to develop an iPad application for a customer of my mobile device application. I finished that job in January. It was a good experience. I learned some new techniques which will be very useful as I further develop my main software product. The client was happy with the end result. He turned out to be a good graphic designer, and when combined with my technical skills it resulted in a nice looking application. The client was also willing to do the bulk of the testing (he was good at it too), which is the part of software development I least enjoy. Despite the positives I somewhat regretted taking on the work. Looking back, it was a distraction from the bakery and ongoing development of my main software product. It was nice to get a good sized check, but because it's for private use the work won't result in an ongoing revenue stream. I'm not sure if it was worth it. If nothing else I learned a few things from it.

We seem to be executing well on our objective of consistently generating a profit at the bakery. We've had four profitable months in a row now and we deployed an inventory management system in January. We had to terminate an employee in December. At HP there were people who's job it was to handle all the legal details which are entailed in terminating an employee. In a small business you get to do it all yourself. For the first time I was exposed to dealing with the Texas Workforce Commission. This is the state's labor management agency. It ended well for the bakery but reinforced the need for us to have robust human resource processes in place. I was glad I had some employee relations experience from my days as a manager. It definitely helped. We've since spent some effort reinforcing our HR processes. I came out of the experience with some admiration for Texas employment law. It's clearly designed to encourage employers to keep people employed, but within a certain set of well thought out constraints. I think the law strikes a good balance between the interests of the employer and the employee. Like many Texans I know, it has a no-nonsense quality to it. The main things to remember are to clearly and consistently communicate expectations, both when they're set and when they're not being met. And above all, write everything down. I ended up sending about 20 pages worth of documentation to the workforce commission in this case. When it come to legal matters, if it isn't written down it might as well not have happened. I imagine a lot of small business owners burn themselves by lack of documentation when it comes these sort of matters.

There's still a lot of things we could do in the bakery to improve efficiency. It's encouraging to see profitability despite all the known inefficiencies which still exist. I also feel good about creating some jobs for the locals. We recently gave one of our employees a raise and made her our first assistant manager. With Nina about to have a baby we knew that we were going to need some help managing operations. We're now using some of the profits to pay ourselves. The cell phones for Nina's family, my mom, and I and certain vehicle expenses (gas, oil changes) are now coming out of the bakery. Relatively speaking it's a modest amount but it's certainly nice to begin seeing some monetary reward for our efforts. We're reserving the bulk of the profits to fund future growth or in case we have rainy days in the future. The sales growth rate has slowed a bit but if the January 2011 sales are any indication we can still expect a strong growth rate this year. Most recently we found someone to help us develop automated cakeball manufacturing equipment. We built a proof of concept unit which produced great results. I'm waiting for the bill of materials so we can order the materials to build what we hope will be a production unit. Hopefully the profits and sales growth will keep coming.

On the software side I released another significant update in January to my main product. The revision added another expansion pack and addressed many stability and reliability issues. Previous versions had proven to be fairly robust, but I'm rather fond of things which never break. I also know that robustness is important to the small business market I'm targeting. The new rev looks to be rock solid. I haven't had a single bug report or problem email since it's release. I'm pretty happy with the results. I've kept raising the price of the software in an attempt to find the point of maximum revenue. The unit volume vs price curve so far has been flat. Unit volumes only go up as the price nears zero. In terms of dollar volume it doesn't look like I've found the maxima yet. The results have encouraged me to continue developing the app. I have three more expansion packs I want to add, one of which is nearing completion. I also want to develop a subscription based service around the app. I've started some early work on the subscription piece, but it's going to take time since it will involve developing a web application to accompany the app. I've become more comfortable with mobile software development but web development is another animal. I have some familiarity with it but I'm going to have learn some new things. That always takes time.

My brother in law, who's a maintenance technician in the petrochemical industry, had an idea for an app which he thinks would be very useful to many folks in that industry. Relative to the app I'm already selling (and the contract app I made) it sounded easy to build, so I took his idea on. The app's nearly ready to be submitted to the publisher. The nature of the app means that the size of the market will be limited. (That said, when you visit this part of the country you realize that the petrochemical industry is huge.) My brother in law says that what the app does is very valuable, so I think we'll be able to charge a fair bit for it. He's been in the industry for 20 years at 3 or 4 different plants and knows a lot of people. I'm hoping we can leverage his network for marketing purposes. The app was quick and easy to build, so worst case it's not much of a loss if it's a flop.

I've had other ideas for useful small business oriented mobile apps which don't seem to already exist but it's pretty limiting when one person is doing the bulk of the work. Playing HR and IT manager, accountant, delivery truck driver, and dishwasher at a bakery doesn't help with time either. I tried to talk one of my engineer cousins in Mexico into becoming a partner but she declined in the end. I think I need to get further along on executing my vision for the app I'm already selling before taking on any other substantial projects. If it keeps growing maybe I'll just hire someone to help with future projects.

I'm looking forward to my bi-annual migration trip. This business stuff has been entertaining. A big part of the fun is not knowing what's going to happen. Figuring out how to overcome obstacles is enjoyable too. There's also a social or organizational engineering piece which I like. There certainly have been some surprises, and I'm sure there will be more. Whether it's going well or not I suppose depends on whether you're getting what you want from it. From that perspective it is going well, but I know that I'm not using typical measuring sticks.

All of that said, at some point (I'm there) things become a bit too routine and I feel the need to leave it all behind for a while. Some aspect of having everything you need in a vehicle with only a vague notion of where you're going and what you'll be doing appeals to me. I accomplished what I wanted to accomplish down here. Time to leave.

The photo at the top is a cake we made for the city's centennial celebration. It barely fit through our door.

Feels Like Work

2010-11-10T16:55:00.000-08:00

It's been about a month since I arrived in Texas City. I called my sister as I was arriving and learned that her and her family were at a fund raiser the bakery was participating in. I went there first. It was a pretty big occasion, with a band, booths selling various stuff, an auction, and a dunk tank. Nina was selling goodies. The fund raiser was for the benefit of a little girl with a rare disease. She was the daughter of a guy I'd gone to school with. Since I hadn't taken a shower in two weeks I decided to volunteer for the dunk tank. Apparently I was the first adult to do so. My nephew and his friend hit the target four out of six times. My five year old niece then surprised me by telling me that she was going to be a big sister. Nina was due at the end of February. After the fund raiser ended I went to the bakery, where I found my mom hard at work (we'd hired her earlier in the year) making our best selling product, cakeballs.

I spent the first couple of days figuring out what I should be doing at the bakery over the next fews months. The bakery was in a pretty different state from where it had been a year ago. Year to date sales were 5x where they'd been at the same point last year. The number of regular employees had grown from one to five. The business was self supporting. Nina had taken some of the profits, used them to hire a couple of professionals, and to buy a larger commercial freezer and fridge. Nina had done a good job keeping up with the growth and re-investing the profits wisely. Sales were no longer our biggest challenge. Our focus now would be to improve profitability, with higher sales as a secondary goal. Our cash reserves have been rather flat. We wanted to get cash on a good, steady, growth rate and use it to fund further sales growth.

I'm the bean counter for the bakery, so it fell on me to figure out where the money was going and what to do about it. Being an engineer, I went straight to the data. After some quality time with Excel I was able to glean some things from it. Labor, followed by ingredients is where most of the expenses were. As a fraction of the total pie, fixed expenses (expenses that don't change with sales) had dropped quite a lot from a year ago. It made sense given the higher sales we now had, and was to be expected. Ok, primary contributors identified and quantified, now what? It was pretty evident that our financial metrology and controls were weak. By the time we knew what our sales and expenses were it was too late to do anything about it. We've known this for a while, but we hadn't done anything about it. With the sales growing like it had just getting all the orders out the door was enough of a challenge. I wrote some software and developed procedures which allow us to measure sales and labor expenses on a near realtime basis. We set a goal for labor expense as a fraction of sales, and did some communications with the staff (been a while since I'd made Powerpoint slides). We reorganized a bit, giving employees primary roles which better align with their natural talents, and have delivered some direct feedback to individuals. An employee manual has been assembled to document standard procedures and best practices. It should also help bring future new hires up to speed more quickly. We're now tracking labor expenses and sales on a daily basis and have set limits which we are managing against. It's been a couple of weeks since we deployed the new systems. We're still ironing out some kinks but early indications are that the new systems and controls have helped. November will be telling since it'll be the first full month in which we've used the new controls. We still need better controls for ingredients (the second largest piece of the expense pie), so that's next on my list for the bakery.

Besides improving profitability we're also working to keep our sales growth going, although with less urgency than a year ago, and at a lower target rate. We're now shipping cakeballs (our best selling item). This past Sunday, for the second year in a row, the bakery walked away with the Best of Show award at Taste of the Town, an annual event put on by the local chamber of commerce. I can't really take any credit for this. Nina and the ladies at the shop are just flat out great at what they do. They can make a pile of garbage look like a work of art. It's pretty amazing what they can do with cake and icing. The orders have been piling up this week, so it seems Taste of the Town was worthwhile. Fortunately we have employees who are eager for more work. They may not be so eager in a couple of weeks.

That's the bakery stuff. I'm also spending time on the software business. I hit a hiccup with a derivative product. I had submitted the derivative to the publisher just before leaving for Texas. Halfway to Texas I learned that the publisher had rejected it. The publisher insisted that I sell it as an expansion pack for the first product, instead of selling it as a separate product. I was pretty upset with them. I submitted an appeal, but it was denied. They called me a couple of times, I think in an attempt to appease me, but they still refused to give in. Gradually, as much as I hate to admit it, I came to realize that selling the new features as an expansion pack was a better way to go. Last week the new rev was finally released. Last week's revenues were double the previous record. I guess it was for the best after all.

Also last week one of my customers contacted me to ask if I'd be interested in developing custom software for his business. I was reluctant. I felt like I had a lot of projects already. There was a long list of things I wanted to get done at the bakery before returning to Oregon. I quoted a price that I thought he'd say no to, but he ended up saying yes, so now I'm working on that too.

I guess things are going pretty well, but it feels like I don't have much in the way of free time. I've only gone kayaking once since I arrived. I have at least maintained the habit of commuting on a bike.

It has been fun learning how to operate a business. It's certainly been a good challenge, and something I've always wanted to try. I realize that I'm treating it as an engineering problem, which perhaps is to be expected. Figure out what you should be measuring, develop a way to measure it, and set targets. If you're not hitting the target figure out what the main reasons for not hitting the target are. Go after the big contributors first, working your way down in order of contribution until you hit the target. The main difference, which really isn't much of a difference, is that I'm measuring financial parameters instead of technical parameters. In the end it's just some number that you chase after.

The biggest eyeopeners for me, at least with the bakery, have been on the customer facing side. Turns out there are a lot of people who desire things which look nice, even when it's something that's going to be eaten. They like it when someone pays attention to them and is responsive to their desires. The bakery does make nice looking products, which also taste good, and we are very attentive to our customers. We screw up every now and then, but we go out of our way to make it right for the customer. I think customer service has been a big reason for the sales growth we've had. The best advertising is a happy customer with a good looking and tasty cake. They tell others, and the guests at their events see and taste the product, which generates more customers.

The photo at the top is from White Sands, New Mexico, one of the places I visited after my last post.

Wizards, Slots, & Rattles

2010-09-27T10:48:00.000-07:00

Here's the first report from El Viaje Fall 2010.

I didn't drive too far from Corvallis until I arrived at my first stop, Waldo Lake. Waldo Lake is located on the crest of the Oregon Cascades. It's about 2.5 hours drive from Corvallis. The plan was to meet the man previously known as FixItMan and the Nav Unit, then do an overnight kayak trip. I say "previously known as FixItMan" because somewhere in the course of this trip we decided to start calling him the Wizard. The Wizard and I spent the night at a parking lot next to the lake and the Nav Unit showed up the next morning. We loaded up the two kayaks with gear and headed out.

The weather was wet. It rained off an on during the whole trip. The lake was beautiful. It has some of the clearest water I've ever seen. When we kayaked over the deepest part the color was a deep purple that I don't think I've ever seen in water. No one seemed to mind the rain much. Eventually we found a campsite on an isolated bluff at the end of a peninsula. I think it was when we started setting up camp that the Nav Unit began referring to FixItMan as the Wizard. The Wizard kept producing objects which we were wisihing we had, which I think was why the Nav Unit started calling him the Wizard. It had started at the parking lot, where the Wizard produced some dry bags. The dry bags kept the critical stuff (clothing and bedding) perfectly dry. Next was a tarp, complete with stakes and cord to string it up. The Nav Unit and Wizard did a great job putting up the tarp, using kayak paddles as poles. The tarp was tall enough that I could stand up under it. It was angled against the wind, so the effective area it kept dry was larger than the floor plan. It kept the Nav Unit and I dry all night, despite sometimes heavy rain. I slept with only a sleeping bag covering me. Next was good fire starter, which proved critical to getting a fire going. The Wizard also constructed the fire pit, which was designed so that most of the heat was radiated towards the tarp. The fire really made the night much more comfortable. It was hot enough to keep us dry even though it was exposed to the rain. The Nav Unit and I at one point jumped into the lake and raced back up the bluff to the fire. I'm not sure we would have done that if we didn't have a fire.

The next morning we paddled back to our vehicles. I said goodbye to the Nav Unit and followed the Wizard east towards his dwelling in Central Oregon. It was nice to take a shower and relax a bit after being out in the cold rain for a couple days. The next morning I left.

The weather quickly turned much dryer as I crossed into the desert state of Nevada. I spent the next night at a trailhead about an hour east of Reno. I arrived there later in the day but I was so taken by the stark desert on clear day that I hiked off in a semi-random direction heading uphill. I lost track of time and returned in the dark, having left my headlamp in the Buffalo. The next day I went on a longer hike, still in a semi-random direction. I came across some aircraft components littered on the ground. I saw landing gear, some kind of tank, and what I believe was a compressor turbine from a turbojet engine. All of it was beat up and worn really bad, far beyond a repairable state. I figured it must be from a plane wreck. There was a military aircraft base nearby, maybe the plane had originated there? After taking some photos I headed back to the Buffalo, making a big loop. I continued driving eastwards, traveling along what was billed as "The Lonliest Highway". I didn't feel too lonely, but it was pretty empty. The highway ran perpendicular to long valleys separated by mountain ranges. The valleys were once filled with glaciers, which had moved south and scoured out the valleys. It was hard to believe that these valleys were once filled with ice. Now it was a hot, dry, bare desert with hardly any vegetation to be seen in any direction. After stopping to climb and run down a giant sand dune, I continued to Eastern Nevada. Near the Utah border I stopped at a park and hiked up one of the taller peaks, Wheeler Peak. Later I learned that Wheeler was Nevada's tallest peak, at 13k ft in elevation. It also housed what was purported to be Nevada's only glacier. The summit provided a great view on a clear day. It wasn't an especially difficult hike, but I definitely felt the altitude. As had occurred in the Andes, I felt a bit nauseous and had a headache. The trees had begun to reappear at higher elevations in Eastern Nevada. At the start of the Wheeler hike there were forests of Aspen and Bristlecone Pine. Examples of the latter are amongst the oldest living things found. The leaves were turning colors. Fall had arrived here. The golden hillsides reminded me of Upstate New York in the Fall. I also visited the glacier. For sure, there wasn't much left. It was maybe the size of a couple of city blocks. It did have a couple of crevasses. It looked like some interesting routes might form uphill from the glacier in the right season.

After the glacier hike I headed southeast into Utah, then east skirting the Utah / Arizona border. I stopped to check out some slot canyons. I ended up doing a 26 mile backpacking trip, almost entirely at the bottom of slot canyons. The bottom of a slot canyon is it's own little universe, and entering one is like being teleported. The bottoms are river beds. At times they were no wider than the width of a person, and had walls which could be several hundred feet high. In comparison to the top of the canyon the bottom is cool, moist, and dark. In some places the canyon widened into miniature oases where trees and plants grew. The canyons form an interlinked network. I estimated that the full network I was in extended for about 70 miles. When a thunderstorm comes the canyons are a bad place to be in. Any mechanical engineer could tell you why, but the sight of logs spanning the canyon walls 50 ft up in the air was all you needed to see. The slot canyons are funnels for huge, intermittent flows of water. In my entire slot canyon trip I found only one spot where I could climb out, and it was a good scramble. At nightfall, bats came out to hunt for insects, sometimes buzzing me. The canyon walls highly amplified all sounds. The swoosh of a bird flying by was startling. I could literally hear grains of sand falling. The water had left it's mark in all kinds of smoothed out, fluidic rock formations. The rock was colored in hues of red and pink by the different layers of sandstone. Parts of the canyon floor were wet from springs or from water which trickled down from a canyon wall.

After leaving the canyon I hiked along a nearby desert trail which started at the Utah / Arizona border. I soon discovered that the trail crossed all of Arizona from Mexico to Utah. I encountered a rattlesnake during this hike. I must have startled it because it quickly slithered off under a nearby bush. It was well hidden under the bush, but I knew it was there. It must have hoped I hadn't seen it or wasn't interested in it because it wasn't making any noise. I picked up some pebbles and threw them at the bush. The snake now knew that I knew where it was. Wasting no time putting it's new found knowledge to work, the snake initiated it's next defensive measure, which was to shake it's rattle. (Thereby also confirming that it was, in fact, a rattlesnake.) I briefly considered trying to fish it out somehow so I could get a better look at it. Some primitive part of my brain protested vehemently against the idea, however, convincing me that any critter which broadcasts it's location so loudly must be capable of hurting me pretty good. The rattle had worked. Upon my arrival at the trailhead I noticed a large "Caution: Rattlesnakes" sign which I had somehow missed. Later I found out afterwards that rattlesnake bites are extremely poisonous, and potentially fatal. One account I read on the web resulted in a 35 day hospital visit plus 13 surgeries. After the hike I headed to Lake Powell. A dip in the lake was very welcome on a hot desert day and was my first bath in almost a week.

That pretty brings me to my present day status. I'm writing this from Page, Arizona, near the shores of Lake Powell. I should arrive in Texas City in a week or so, depending what other places catch my fancy on the way there. The photo at the top is of a horny toad (which apparently is actually a lizard, not a toad) I saw during the rattlesnake hike. More photos are here.

Underworlds & Strawberry Mountains

2010-09-16T07:34:00.000-07:00

It's drizzling outside as I write this. I'll be leaving Corvallis for Texas tomorrow. The start of the rain makes it a bit easier to leave. The Buffalo's got a brand new set of tires, a new drinking water pump (the old one froze during our ice climbing trip in Colorado), and has had a check-up with the mechanic. My house is rented out to college students again. I just need to make some final decisions about what I'm going to take with me and load up the Buffalo.

I've had a few more outings since my last entry. In August the NavUnit, SecurityChief, Matt, and I climbed Three Finger Jack in the Oregon Cascades. After the climb we spent a night out next to a lake, then searched for some caves the next day. The caves were the most novel part of the trip for me. The location of these particular caves is a well kept secret. Cavers in general seem reluctant to divulge the locations of caves. The reason typically given is that others will show up and trash them. After seeing these caves I think another good reason is that you could easily get yourself into a lot of trouble. After hiking cross-country with no apparent trail we came to what looked like giant, cone shaped anthills made out of pumice (a volcanic rock). The anthills turned out to be miniature craters. Inside were holes that opened up into lava tubes. The second one we saw was very impressive. It was a shaft oriented at maybe 80 degrees. The hole at the top was maybe a dozen feet across, but it quickly opened up into a much larger diameter. The shaft went down at least a few hundred feet before it turned completely black. We couldn't see the bottom. It was an odd feeling to suddenly discover that you were standing over a very large empty space which you had previously believed to be solid earth. Kind of like walking on the roof of a domed stadium, believing that it's solid all the way down to the Earth's center, then suddenly peering through a hole in the roof and realizing that there's a whole other environment underneath you. I'd read about caves which extend for many miles, far underground, some with underground rivers and lakes. I now understood why many societies have legends about the underworld.

We'd brought climbing gear with us and started looking for a way to set up a rappel anchor. The second cave required a free rappel down the center of the cave. We didn't know if our rope was long enough to reach anything solid, so we'd have to be prepared to ascend the rope. We weren't sure if we could gather our nerves to do it, but I told the NavUnit that if he could build a solid anchor I would go. The NavUnit's safety module seemed to be operating well, and he's previously rescued climbers off of mountains, so I left the judgment of the anchor's safety up to him. He couldn't find anything near the entrance which satisfied him. There was a dead tree which seemed solid but, as I said, was dead. The rock walls around the crater moved when the NavUnit set up and tested an anchor in them. We didn't have enough rope to reach the nearest ideal anchor (a big living tree), so we decided to look for another cave. Another thing I realized about caving is that it requires a lot of gear. I thought climbing was a gear intensive sport, but serious caving requires far more gear. It was clear we didn't have enough gear. At the very least we needed a few hundred feet of static rope just to set up a good anchor. Better lights would have been good too. We found a third cave. It had a very large opening, with a relatively short drop to a sloped floor you could stand on. The anchor was still a problem. The NavUnit did the best he could with what he had, but it was far from ideal. Since I had previous experience serving as a self propelled disposable anchor tester I went down first. If the anchor failed I'd probably just be permanently maimed instead of instantly dead, as would have been the case with the second cave. Fortunately the anchor held and we all made it to the sloped floor in one piece. The floor sloped downwards under a rock overhang on the side opposite from the anchor. I kept making my way down to try and determine if the cave kept going. At the point where I turned back the cave had narrowed considerably to the point where it was about the width of a human body. It also steepened abruptly. From stories I've heard, squeezing through tight holes seems to be another aspect of caving. A draft suggested that the cave continued through the narrow hole. We called it good, climbed back up the rope, and hiked out to the car. It was a good exploratory outing and introduction into what caving is all about. I'm still not sure how much caving I want to do in the future. Offhand, spending time in dark, constricted spaces doesn't sound terribly appealing. I would like to rap down into the second cave someday, though. Also, spending time in high cold places doesn't sound very appealing either, but I've done it anyway on many occasions.

Over the Labor Day weekend Ann and I headed out to the Strawberry Mountains in Eastern Oregon. Ann had planned out a three day, two night backpacking trip. Neither of us had ever been to the Strawberries. I always enjoy visiting a place I've never been to. An extra bonus is that the route was a loop, so we'd be seeing new scenery the entire time. The Strawberries are a high, craggy ridgeline, surrounded by idyllic alpine lakes, rivers, waterfalls, and meadows. Our route looped around the ridgeline, passing through beautiful alpine landscapes along the way. We took a few short side trips off the loop to visit various lakes and Strawberry Mountain, the highest point in the Strawberries. The weather was mostly sunny. I was glad I had taken plenty of warm clothing, as it got below freezing at night. I was surprised to see a scary looking water ice climb during one of our side trips. We spent the first night next to a spring running through the middle of a meadow with a great view of Strawberry Mountain. After it got dark I tried to sneak up on some deer, but they noticed me well before I got close enough to touch them. We spent our second night next to a lake, which I submerged myself in. It was ice cold. The trip was over all too soon. The next day we hiked around some waterfalls and a lake in the Cascades on the way back home.

Most recently the boys and I floated down the Willamette River which runs through Corvallis. As seems to happen on all our river trips, it was an eventful float. The story is too long to tell here, but I will say that the NavUnit has a new chicken as a direct result of our trip.

We bailed on the adventure race I mentioned in earlier posts. Some combination of barely sufficient training, escalating costs, and other opportunities lead to our decision. I was never really too keen on it, mostly because we were going to shell out a significant amount of cash to do something we can do for free. So, I wasn't too sad to see the end of it. I noticed that my exercise program changed dramatically once the decision was made. The race certainly had been a good motivation for me to get into better shape.

The software business has progressed since my last post. The first business model I experimented with was giving away the software and generating revenue via advertising. I tried that for a month before giving up on the idea, at least for now. It made some money, but not enough to justify the effort. The problem appeared to be that there wasn't enough advertising to go around. I moved on to the next business model, which was paid, ad free software. That resulted in an immediate, relatively large jump in revenue. Over the past few weeks I've been experimenting with different prices, changing the price every week in an effort to find the price which maximizes revenue. It was clear that I was undercharging at the original price. I'm not sure I've found the optimal price yet, so I'm going to keep experimenting with it. I'm now moving on to a third business model, which is offering an enhanced version at a higher price point. The enhanced version will go on sale next week.

It's encouraging to see the business generating some revenue. It's still not a lot, especially compared to what I was making at HP, but it's better suited to my current lifestyle. I also think there's a lot more value the software could add given a bit more time and effort. Hopefully the increasing revenue trend will continue with the enhanced version. For now, I'll be ramping down my efforts with the software business as I switch focus to the bakery.

Before that I'll be crossing the American west in the Buffalo. I'm giving myself two or three weeks tops to make the trip. I'm not sure what places I'll be visiting yet, but roughly I plan on heading south first into the southwest before heading east. The NavUnit and I have arranged to meet FixItMan at a lake in the Oregon Cascades this coming weekend for an overnight kayaking trip. That's the extent of my trip plan so far.

The photo at the top of the entrance to the second cave. The NavUnit took the photo. A few more photos are here.

Tunnels Behind Waterfalls & Windy Mountains

2010-07-20T10:02:00.000-07:00

Summer's arrived here in the Pacific Northwest. The weather's idyllic so I've been spending a lot of time outside. About a month ago Ann and I went hiking in the Columbia Gorge. The gorge is full of waterfalls and rivers feeding into the big Columbia River. Ann and I hiked several miles into Eagle Creek, one of the rivers feeding the Columbia. The last mile was the most interesting. A trail carved into a cliff side painted green with vegetation snaked through a man made tunnel behind the aptly named Tunnel Falls. Apparently it was a Great Depression era public works project. Pretty cool. The photo at the top is Ann approaching Tunnel Falls. Other Eagle Creek photos are here.

Over the July 4th weekend I climbed Mt. Hood with the NavUnit, the SecurityChief, the Chief's son, and another father with his two sons. I guess you could call Hood our home mountain. Between the NavUnit, the SecurityChief, and I we've probably made a few dozen attempts. It's a popular mountain, with over a dozen routes on it. There's everything from the South Side route, which is mostly a long hike on snow, to the infamous Yocum Ridge, a near suicidal route which is rarely climbed.

Climbing Hood has often seemed to me like visiting another planet. For starters there's all the snow in the middle of summer. On the lower slopes the ski lifts are open year round. The strangely shaped snow formations on the crater wall (Hood is a dormant volcano) lend the appearance of a long lost city. Fumaroles vent from a couple of spots at the bottom of the crater where the snow is conspicuously absent. Crevasses, giant cracks in the glacier ice with eerily blue walls of ice, are the closest thing I've seen to a bottomless pit.

The weirdest part is the weather. Half the time we've attempted a climb on Hood we've end up turning around due to bad weather. The worst weather I've ever experienced (including hurricanes growing up in Texas) has been on Hood. The coldest I've ever felt (I couldn't feel my arms all the way to my shoulders, despite wearing every warm piece of clothing I owned) was on Hood. The last time I was on Hood my ice axe became completely encased in a clear, thick layer of ice, which I later realized had also formed on my clothing. The NavUnit and the SecurityChief tell the story of their tent collapsing during a storm on Hood. The next day on their way down they noticed that the ski lift towers had also collapsed.

This climb turned out to have it's own bit of strange weather. We ascended as two parties. The NavUnit and I headed out for an alternate route, equipped with extra gear while everyone else went up the South Side route. It was very windy. Later on the way down a fellow told us it'd been gusting to 70 MPH at the ski lodge. The wind would whip up in a second or two and then just as abruptly die down to nothing. On several occasions when the wind suddenly gusted I had to quickly throw my axe into the snow and get down on all fours to keep from being blown away. We put our crampons (metal spikes for our boots) on earlier than usual because the wind was blowing us across an ice patch. Worse than the wind were the tiny ice crystals that the wind picked up. I now know what it must feel like to be sandblasted.

After meandering up the mountain and giving ourselves a good scare on a glacier headwall the NavUnit and I arrived at the bottom of the summit wall. The last thousand feet of the climb lay in front of us. Dawn was breaking (we'd started at 2:00 AM). Our view was filled with the summit wall and thin, wispy clouds moving chaotically at impossible speeds over the wall. The morning glow gave the clouds a pinkish / purplish hue. It was a strange sight. It seemed like an odd dance, beautiful and mesmerizing. The wind was still gusting strongly. I imagined what the summit must be like. Standing behind a jet engine at full throttle came to mind. The NavUnit thought we were seeing the formation of a lenticular cloud, which indicates that bad weather is coming. We never really decided to keep going or not, we just started walking in the direction of the summit and kept moving. We reached the top to find the best weather of the entire ascent. There was hardly any wind. The clouds we'd feared from below felt like a warm fog. Every now and then the clouds would break and we'd feel the morning sun's warmth. The mountain had played a joke on us, and we'd almost fallen for it. Just as we were about to start down the second party showed up. We stayed for a bit longer chitchatting, taking photos, and admiring the scenery.

Eventually we started down. Some of the folks in the second party hadn't climbed much so we roped up and placed all the protection we were carrying on the descent. At the time we thought maybe it was overkill, but a couple of days later a climber fell and broke his leg while descending from the summit. It turned into a nice, sunny summer day. Memories of the ascent seemed like a bad dream, but every now and then a wind gust and a blast of ice crystals reminded me that it had been no dream. A layer of clouds hid the lowlands below us. We dropped down through the cloud layer like a diver disappearing below the water's surface. The wife of one of the guys greeted us at the parking lot with a cooler full of beers and cigars. It had been their first time up Hood. We were back on Earth. Photos from the Hood trip are here. Unfortunately I didn't get any good shots of the colored clouds streaming over the summit.

It's looking more likely that I'll be doing the adventure race I mentioned in the last post. My efforts to convince the boys to do something else seem to be falling short. The NavUnit acquired a two person kayak. I've been running and biking a lot. My longest run so far is 7.5 hours. I've convinced myself that there's an outside chance I might actually finish. Still, we haven't paid the entry fee yet so perhaps there's some hope yet.

The software start-up is going well. At least, the installed base has maintained a consistent growth rate. The first revenue generating version just became publicly available and the business has officially made it's first dollar. If it generates a sufficiently strong revenue stream I'll likely hire some people to help out. It's been a lot of work, I'm the bottleneck in the whole affair, and the users are demanding more features.

The bakery had strong sales in June, but we're going into what's typically been a long seasonal slow down. Nina and the crew are finishing a huge cake shaped like a church. The cake is for the dedication ceremony of a new church, the same one we attended when I was growing up. It's sized to serve over a thousand people.

Hope you're having a nice summer wherever you are.

New Adventures

2010-06-02T12:29:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since my last posting. Most of my time since leaving HP has been spent on starting up a software business. The first product was released last week. Despite almost no advertising, the installed base has grown faster than I thought likely. People from 35 countries have downloaded it. It's gotten some good feedback and reviews. I'm pretty happy with the results so far. Version 1.1 just got released yesterday and I've started work on 1.2. I'm trying to build a good reputation with my installed base, so I'm quickly taking their feedback and incorporating it into revisions. Now, to be fair, you should know that I've been giving the product away. Rest assured, however, that there is a method to this madness.

I've enjoyed starting up a new business. Yes, it's been frustrating at times. Having to do nearly everything yourself can be a big challenge, but at the same time it forces you to learn about many different things. Learning how to write code for a platform that's new to you and is constantly in a state of flux can be extremely vexing. I wondered at times if I would ever finish. In some ways it's very similar to other situations I've been in. I now expect to feel perplexed and frustrated when attempting something new. When the frustration and confusion arrives I recognize it, which in turn diminishes it. For me, it's a sign of learning. I did have the sense to hire someone to build the web site and do the graphic design for the icons I needed, but by far I did most of the work. I think I'm over the hump now. It's slowly becoming easier.

As you might guess, a software business is pretty different from a bakery. All you really need for capital equipment is a computer. Other than a place to sit, a power outlet, and an internet connection you don't need much in the way of facilities either. Part of the attraction for me is that you can work from almost anywhere and at any time. Most of the cost is labor, which has mostly been free in my case. If you're willing to work for free and have the right skills (or are willing to invest the time to develop those skills) starting up a software business is pretty inexpensive. Like a bakery, however, you still need to provide good value and treat your customers well.

The strategy end has been fun too. My mantra for the software business has been "fail fast and cheap." I treated the first rev of the product like an experiment who's objective is to measure the size of the market. If the market turns out to not be there, well you didn't invest much so you're not out much. It would be like an engineering experiment which didn't give you the expected answer. The fact is you still learned something, and what you put into it is the price of that learning. If the market is there, that's when things get interesting. My next major objective is to monetize the market. I have several ideas which I'll be pursuing over the next few months. Hopefully at least one will work.

Besides the software start-up I've kept my finger in the bakery pie (no pun intended). It's maintained a strong sales growth rate, matching total 2009 sales in the first four months of 2010. We're wrapping up the transition of our accounts to a different bank, which was more difficult than it sounds. After a brief and well deserved hiatus Nina is back in the thick of it. We're looking for more employees with bakery experience. I'm really proud of my sister. It turns out she has a talent for employee and operations management (besides customer relations and artistic creativity). In these aspects I'd put her on par with many managers and supervisors I knew from HP (including myself). The size of the facilities keeps popping up as a problem. I may fly down for a week or two some time this summer to build a storage shed and to replace some of the refrigeration equipment. Longer term (maybe this fall) we'll need to put together a detailed expansion plan. The latest big order is for the grand opening of a new church (actually the same church we attended when I was growing up). They want a cake shaped like the new church to feed 1500 people.

Aside from the business stuff I've kept mountain biking with the boys and running with Ann. Ann and I went out to the coast for a weekend about a month ago. We hiked out to a remote waterfall, one of the most beautiful I've seen. The next day we wandered semi-aimlessly amongst the rocks on the shore, finding many odd looking critters in the tidal pools and rock faces. Unfortunately neither of us brought cameras. More recently I participated in Pole Pedal Paddle. This is a relay race. You start out downhill skiing on a mountain, then cross country ski, followed by a downhill road ride, a run, kayaking, and finally a sprint to the end. The event is held in Bend, located in Central Oregon. It was an opportunity to see Cliff, who lives near Bend. Cliff did the cross-country ski and the kayak legs. I did the downhill ski and the biking, while the NavUnit did the run and sprint. We lived up to our team name (Doing It Wrong) by breaking multiple rules, which almost resulted in our not being able to participate. The NavUnit would want me to make it clear that I was the team leader. The photo at the top is of me taking a test ride on the bike I used for the event. I was wearing a snowmobile helmet because the helmet I had brought with me apparently didn't have the proper safety certification. (One of the rules we ended up flaunting.) Thanks to the NavUnit for the photo. The next day we went rock climbing at Smith Rock before returning to Corvallis.

Tim and the NavUnit have most recently been trying to convince me to participate in an adventure race. They're targeting a race in Central Washington which will be held in late August. The web site's description sounds pretty brutal. 50-75 miles of mountain biking and 20-30 miles of trail running, both in high topography terrain on the east side of the Cascades. Then another 20-30 miles of paddling on a big lake. The exact distances, the sequence of the legs, and the course checkpoints will not be divulged until the start of the race. Each team is on it's own with regards to navigating through the backcountry and personal safety. GPSes are not allowed, and you have to carry everything you need (including food and water). You have up to 33 hours to finish the course.

I haven't committed to doing it, but I decided to start training. This past weekend I ran for about 4 1/2 hours in the hills and then mountain biked for 5 hours the next day. I felt better than I thought I would, so I'm going to keep it up. Meanwhile, I'm trying to talk the boys into something more pleasant, like an epic climb in the North Cascades. Or gouging out our eyeballs out with an ice pick.

That's it for now. Thanks for reading.

Bye Bye HP

2010-04-03T12:53:00.000-07:00

It's been a surprising past few weeks. I returned to work at HP on March 1st. I was rummaging through PC parts looking for a power supply (my laptop's power supply had died) when my director walked by. She said we had a meeting scheduled. I was unaware of the meeting due to my computer problems. Power supply in hand, we headed off to a room as I wondered what this could be about. It's not often you have a one on one with your third level manager. She cut straight to the chase, using a practiced and carefully worded script. I had 10 weeks to look for a new job at HP before I was going to be terminated. She said (not verbatim) my nomadic lifestyle wasn't a good fit for the job requirements. I couldn't honestly disagree with her.

It's worth providing some background here. Some weeks before I left Texas I had contacted my manager to tell her that I'd be returning early from my leave. While I was at it I also asked if it was possible to work on a six month on / six month off schedule on an ongoing basis. I saw that I was going to need to return to Texas for months at a time on regular basis. She ran it up the management chain. The answer she returned with was that my best bet was to become a contract engineer. I had contacted some people at HP who were working as contract engineers. Amongst other things I learned that the maximum length of the contracts was six months. Also, the trend was towards more contractor labor. It sounded like what I wanted, so I told my manager that contracting was fine with me. I left it at that. My plan going back into HP was that I'd work until late summer, resign, go to Texas, return in the spring of 2011, and look for a contract engineering position at HP. It was a bit of a surprise to learn that I'd be laid off, but I quickly realized that I was getting what I'd asked for. Then I realized that I was getting more than I'd asked for. If I didn't find another job at HP I would get a severance package. With the severance package I'd be getting about what I would have gotten if I'd worked until late summer, except I wasn't going to be working. I'd be eligible for unemployment. My house in Corvallis was still rented out, and while I was in Texas I had rented out the empty lot next to the building which houses the bakery. A few days after returning to HP I pulled February's sales figures for the bakery. Sales had increased more than 5x in four months. I dug into the value of my 401k and some other HP related assets and found some pleasant surprises. I'd set things up so that a portion of my paychecks would go into various investments, but had forgotten about some of them. I decided not to look for another job within HP.

Another important consideration was that I'd been wanting to leave HP for some time. I was prepared to leave three years ago, when I wrote this poem:

The River

I took a trip down the River. At times the River was calm, at times it was rapid. Mostly it was somewhere in between. Although the River has brought me closer to my destination, I see now that it is moving me further away. Therefore, I must leave the River and continue my journey by other means. Although I will soon leave the River, the River will never leave me. The River has taught me many lessons, which I will need for rest of my journey. For that, I thank the River and wish it well on its journey to the Sea.

I didn't leave at the time because HP had said yes to my first leave request.

I don't harbor any ill feelings towards HP or anyone who works there. No doubt, the place has it's ups and downs, but so does any other employer. The bottom line for me is that my employment at HP has enabled me to do a lot of things that I've wanted to do. For that I'm quite grateful. I've believed for some time that HP had served it's purpose. There's other things I should be doing and I need get on with them.

Yesterday was my last day at HP. My plans are to stay in Corvallis through September. The bakery seems to have caught up with the recent growth spurt. Nina hired an experienced decorator recently and made operational changes which have enabled her to step away from daily operations a bit. It's a welcome change from too many days that stretched into the early morning. Challenges remain, but the shop seems to have survived the infant stage. It's a toddler now, still vulnerable, but less so. Working at the bakery spawned various other business ideas, which I am pursuing now that I'm no longer at HP. I don't know if they'll go anywhere, but for me not knowing what will happen is a big part of the fun.

It's mushroom hunting season here. Matt, our expert mushroom hunter, found a secret location in the forest which has been producing large quantities of morels. We've been visiting the spot regularly for the past few weeks. No one else seems to know about it. Ann and I have been eating them fried or in pasta dishes. They're quite tasty. The photo at the top is of one of the largest morels we've found to date. More photos are here.

Frozen Water & Frozen Buffalo

2010-02-18T17:14:00.000-08:00

After saying goodbye to everybody in Texas I left for Denver. Originally I was going to head due north until Kansas then head west, but it seemed like the makings of a boring drive (all interstate). So, I headed through Dallas before cutting northwest towards Amarillo. I drove a fair bit my first day. The weather didn't look good all day and it got worse. At first it was raining then it started snowing a bit. About 90 miles before Amarillo I stopped at a rest stop for the night. Note to self: Texas has the best rest stops I've ever seen anywhere, hands down. The rest stops are big, with plenty of amenities. The building at the rest stop is open all night, and is heated (I assume in the summer it's air conditioned). It's equipped with free WiFi, well stocked vending machines, plus all the tourist and local history information you'd ever want to know. The rest stop I was at had some kind of highly engineered sewage and water system. I don't remember the details, but I understood that it's water and sewage system were off grid. A set of diagrams explained how it all worked. I didn't see any signs that said you couldn't spend the night at the rest stop, but given what I know about the Texas character I assume the local law enforcement agency doesn't care as long as you don't cause any trouble (which in Texas is best that you don't).

I woke up early the next morning. Since I couldn't sleep anymore I decided to get going. Unfortunately the Buffalo wasn't cooperating. The engine wouldn't turn over. Fortunately, I had parked near the top of a hill. I pushed the Buffalo to the point where it started rolling by itself, jumped in, popped the clutch, and the engine started right up. On the drive up to Amarillo I turned the engine off and then tried to crank it while going downhill (so that I could restart by popping the clutch if I needed to). Still no cranking. I was going to be forced to stop in Amarillo to gas up. Luckily the Buffalo restarted after the forced stop in Amarillo. It had been very cold that morning, but by the time I got to Amarillo it had warmed up. I chalked up the problem to the cold (aren't water buffalos tropical animals?), and kept driving. I cut across the NE corner of New Mexico in a snow storm before gaining the main north-south interstate through Colorado. The weather cleared up some and even got sunny as I arrived in Denver. I spent the first night with the family of a high school friend. The next morning the Buffalo wouldn't start again until it got warm out. Since the NavUnit and Tim were flying in soon and we were planning on going into the mountains I figured I'd better get the Buffalo looked over. I took it to a shop my friend had recommend which was just a couple of blocks from his house. They diagnosed the problem as a loose power cable. They fixed it (for a very reasonable price) and I haven't had any problems since.

My first full day in Denver was consumed by finding, configuring, and restoring a new laptop for the bakery. The old one was, at best, in intensive care. All of the bakery's critical customer and order data was on it. I did what I could in the time I had before overnighting the new laptop to Nina. (Thanks T.O. & family for the help.)

On a Friday I picked up Tim and the NavUnit at the airport. I wasn't exactly sure what we were going to do, but we were equipped for ice, rock, alpine climbing, snow backpacking and snow camping. The NavUnit was using the latest in navigational equipment to make sure we wouldn't get lost. It seemed we could pretty much go anywhere we wanted to go. First stop was Boulder Canyon, a place we had visited on a previous climbing trip. We climbed a couple of flows near the road before leaving for the entrance to Rocky Mountain National Park. The next day we drove into the park and snowshoed to a basin at 11,000 feet. Our goal was to climb the nearby Grace Falls. It took more time than we anticipated to reach the basin. The snow was deep in places and we had to break trail, which is very exhausting and time consuming. We found a camp site near the falls and after dinner bedded down for the night. I think we all slightly regretted having eaten most of the Girl Scout cookies (purchased from T.O.'s oldest daughter) the night before.

The weather hadn't looked good all day. It was snowing on the hike in, and our camp site was pretty windy. The fact that we were above tree line made things worse. We all slept in the NavUnit's tent. In order to fit three people in the tent the person in the middle (me) had to lay down in the opposite direction of the other two. A snow storm raged most of the night and continued into the morning, dropping about a foot of snow. It got pretty cold out. I'm guessing it was significantly below zero, and far below zero with the wind chill. A local later told us it was the worst storm to hit the park so far this winter. As our luck would have it, we had spent the night out in it. We all managed to stay mostly warm, but the weather still looked bad the next morning so we decided to head back down without having climbed anything. On our way down the weather got better and eventually cleared completely. We found an ice flow to climb that afternoon. The next day (also a clear, sunny day) we found another ice flow, which turned out to be the best one of the trip. The following morning I dropped the boys off at the airport.

By our standards (which are quite low) it had been a good trip. The right mix of suffering, fear, and foolishness had been achieved. I for one was pretty wiped out. Heading back towards Denver after our last climb I admitted to the NavUnit that I was having trouble lifting my right foot from the gas pedal to the brake pedal. I realized only later that maybe I shouldn't have told him this while we were heading down the Front Range of the Rockies.

After dropping off the boys I headed back to a friend's house in Denver. I had left some of my belongings with him while I was out with the boys. My friend and his wife were pretty interested in our outing. I told them what we did and showed them some photos. After packing up my stuff I said goodbye and continued with my trip.

I wound up taking what I thought was the fastest route back to Oregon. I headed north into Wyoming before turning west, crossing Wyoming, cutting through northeastern Utah, crossing Idaho, then finally crossing most of Oregon before arriving in Corvallis. The weather hadn't been nice for most of the leg from Denver, but I didn't encounter any significant storms. The Buffalo didn't like the cold high hills of Wyoming. It seemed to lose power for an instant at irregular intervals. I started wondering how challenging it would be to get a 23 year old VW fixed in Wyoming. The Buffalo pulled through though. Once I'd crossed the Rockies and descended it ran normally. The remainder of the trip was uneventful. The best weather I encountered on the entire trip was in the Willamette Valley, where Corvallis is located.

I'm back in Corvallis now, still expecting to start work on March 1. Nina reports that she had a busy weekend over Valentine's day. The new laptop arrived and after some struggle the customer and order records were successfully transferred to the new machine. The Buffalo seems to have survived the trip pretty well. Some external weather stripping is falling off. I think I'll glue it back in place. The faucet for the sink is working again, probably because the water inside it is no longer frozen solid. The potable water level sensor seems to be non-functional, but that's a pretty minor problem. Ann's in the last several hours of her six month exercise challenge. Her fat cat is still fat, and her mean cat is still mean. Weather here is great!

Photos from the trip are here. The photo at the top is of the NavUnit on our last ice climb.

Drowning In Cookies

2010-02-06T13:43:00.000-08:00

I've been pretty busy since my last blog entry. I flew back to Oregon over New Years for a few days to visit Ann. It snowed the night I arrived, but otherwise was the typical cold, rainy winter weather we get in the Pacific Northwest. Ann and I went to the coast one day to do some hiking. It was warmer and less cloudy than it was in Corvallis. Ann's been keeping up with her six month exercise challenge (one hour per day). I saw the guys (Chris, Matt, Tim) as well. We went on a couple of bike rides and played some sort of X-box game one night which involved massacring zombies. It was good to see Ann, the boys, and Ann's chubby cat.

I had considered taking a trip to Monterrey to visit relatives and get a copy of a certified birth certificate but decided against it when I learned that my mom had a certified copy. Nina was keeping me busy at the bakery anyway. In late January she got an order from BP, one of the local oil refineries, for 7500 cookies they needed for a town hall meeting. It was the bakery's largest order yet. We only had a week to get it done. A third of the cookies were decorated sugar cookies, which is a rather complex and time consuming type of cookie. There were some late nights, and we had to temporarily more than triple the bakery's workforce, but it all came together very well. The community really helped out. It was the owner of a local restaurant / catering service who helped us land the order in the first place. When the call went out for extra labor some volunteers and several high school girls showed up. We needed to temporarily store dough in a freezer, but had run out of freezer space. A restaurant and local grocery store allowed us to use their freezer space. At one point the entire bakery looked like a sea of green and yellow as every elevated horizontal surface was commandeered for use as drying space for the iced cookies. We baked 5000 cookies in one day. Best of all, BP loved the product, including the "thank you" cake we threw in. The lady who was our contact hugged Nina and seemed to be on the verge of tears. I got the sense that we had bailed her out of a predicament. We already got another quote request for a 1000 serving order from BP due on Valentine's Day. The local newspaper found out what we'd done and decided to do a story on us (see link), in addition to a second story they're going to do for wedding cakes. The only thing that could have made it better is if BP had paid for the order. As with other large corporations I'm familiar with, making payments is a bewildering and time consuming process. Our contact seems to be doing what she can to get the payment made.

Most recently one of a my older sisters (Conchita) flew in from Chicago for a visit. A niece (my oldest sister's daughter) also came down from Austin for a visit. I hadn't seen either of them for years, so it was great to catch up. Nina (my youngest sister) wasted no time in putting them to work at the bakery.

I'm loading up the Buffalo to leave Texas City. I told HP I'd be back to work no later than March 1st. I feel like I've accomplished what I wanted to accomplish during my stay here, and if anything it's worked out better than I could have hoped for. Chris and Tim are flying into Denver over the Valentine's Day weekend. I agreed to meet them there. We're going to head into the Rockies to do some climbing. I'll also be visiting friends who live in Denver. Climbing in the cold high mountains will be a welcome change from the coastal flatlands of the gulf coast. The weather here will soon start getting hot and humid. No doubt the mosquitoes will be back out in force too. I miss Ann. The universe seems to be telling me that it's time to leave. Although I feel a bit guilty leaving Nina to fend for herself (managing a high growth business with three children and a husband who works full time isn't easy), I can't completely abandon myself either. Besides, as Nina would readily admit, she asked for it.

The photo at the top is from a hike Ann and I took on the Oregon coast. More photos (including some of the bakery in the midst of fulfilling the 7500 cookie order) are here.

Tasting The Town, Christmas Parades, & Victorian Festivals

2009-12-08T13:15:00.000-08:00

Since last time we've finished a promotional campaign for the bakery. We started with a newspaper advertisement promoting "free cupcake day." Next was Taste of the Town, organized by the Chamber of Commerce (which the bakery had joined). I'd never even heard of this event. It's held in a local mall. It turns out to be a big social event. Businesses (mostly food establishments) set up booths in a local mall. People pay $15 to get in. In return they get to sample food from the various booths. They also had wine and beer (free with the entry fee). At the end there's a charity auction. The event was held on a Sunday evening. The ladies did a great job with the booth decoration. Before hand we had made a bunch of cookies and cake balls for samples. I set up a flat screen TV to run slides of some of the cakes we've sold. The event was well attended. A few people (I wasn't one of them) had really taken advantage of the beer and wine. One lady that showed up at our booth was uttering profanity, saying how good our product was, while she stuffed her pockets with samples. One of the Chamber of Commerce employees dropped by before the auction started to tell us that our booth had won the best of show award. It was great to be recognized. Nina was very happy. They called us out on stage to receive the award at the start of the auction.

Next up was the local Christmas parade. We decided to make a giant cupcake for the parade. I was in charge of building the support structure. It took me about a day to build. It was made out of wood. The central structure was 2x4s. Surrounding this was a series of octagons made out of smaller diameter wood which gave the cupcake its form. Plastic chicken wire was stapled to the outer frame. The plan was to paper mache the exterior. Things didn't go quite as planned. The bottom part of the cupcake sloped inwards, so the paper mache would fall off. Nina and Ms Gracia quickly came up with an alternate plan which ended up working quite well. The bottom part (the cup) was made out of a metal coated plastic insulation material, stapled to the frame. The top part (the icing) was made of flexible plastic tubes stuffed with paper then wrapped around the frame. Large purple Christmas tree ornaments were hung on the icing as sprinkles. One of Nina's friends drew a couple of logos for the sides. We threw a large bow on top. The cupcake had a maximum diameter of over six feet. The total height must have been around seven feet. The interior was lit up with a bright work light which gave the cupcake a glowing effect that looked really cool. We loaded up the cupcake at the front of a trailer (everyone got a kick out of seeing me walking the cupcake from the inside), decorated the trailer and my brother in law Jesse's truck, threw some blankets and kids wearing pajamas in the back half of the trailer, and called it good. A generator was loaded in the back of the pick-up to power all the lights and the outdoor speaker which was playing Christmas music. The parade was another big event. The were 120 floats. The route was packed with people. Nina and her mother in law were in front, carrying the bakery's banner. I was driving the truck, with my mom in the passenger's seat. The kids were in the back of the trailer, and a couple of other people were walking next to the trailer waving and throwing candy. Driving slowly down Texas City's main drag I could see the kid's eyes get big when they first saw the giant cupcake. Many asked if it was edible. We walked away with a trophy for the most original float.

The most recent event was Dickens On The Strand. This is a two day event held on Galveston Island, a 15 minute drive from Texas City. The event is located in the old part of Galveston (called the Strand), which is filled with buildings built during the 1800s. Several blocks are cordoned off to traffic. The idea is to create a Victorian England era atmosphere. People are walking around in top hats and elegant dresses, there are beggars dressed in rags, and police walking around with billy clubs. There are a variety of mini events held over the course of the festival, including a parade, Victorian bed races, magic shows, juggling shows, and puppet theaters. We had a booth set up to sell cake balls, cookies, and muffins. I was pretty familiar with this event, having attended on multiple occasions as a kid. Back then I played the part of a beggar / pick pocket. I remember being offered $20 to lie down in horse poop once (I did it). This time I played the part of a merchant, wearing a top hat, tie, and pants I'd picked up at Goodwill. Nina and her helpers were dressed as bakers while I drew in people by walking around with a plate of samples speaking in an English accent and occasionally saying funny things. One of Nina's helpers called me the "cake ball hustla." I had always liked Dickens because it was a chance to act in a role. Acting was something I've enjoyed in the past but haven't really pursued. Dickens was an outlet for it. I think people enjoyed my act. Some of them requested pictures with me. I have to say being a beggar was more fun than being a merchant, though I enjoyed both.

Although it was a lot of work the campaign and store front seems to have paid off. November sales were more than double the previous monthly sales record and Nina hired a third employee. I'm enjoying a short break now. I think Nina and her cohorts are planning some more events. I heard her say something about me dressing up as Santa and decorating the Buffalo as a sleigh.

Other than the bakery I've continued kayaking. I finished exploring Moses Lake. The eastern end, the last part I visited, proved to be the most interesting. It's a dense marshland of grass, with a maze of narrow channels (barely wide enough for the Pelican) and hidden lagoons. Many times I'd round a bend to discover a lagoon filled with waterfowl. Having seen all of Moses Lake I've moved north to explore the next bayou. My most recent solo trip was out of Dickenson Bayou. I headed out of the bayou into Galveston Bay, visiting an island made entirely out of sea shells. Most recently I took my nephew Cortez out on a trip with me. He really enjoyed it. The photo at the top is of Cortez on the Pelican in a backyard pool.

Nina's slacked off on her running. Between the bakery, kids, and a Thankgiving trip her family took she hasn't had a lot of time. We had worked up to a 40 minute run. We both forgot about the 5k run we were training for. Hopefully we'll have some time this week to get going again. I bought plane tickets to Oregon for the week after Christmas. I'll be there for six days. I'm looking forward to seeing everyone up there. Photos are here.

Pelicans & Tasty Eyeballs

2009-11-04T16:42:00.000-08:00

Since my last entry I acquired a kayak and helped open a store front for Nina's bakery.

My motivations behind getting a kayak were exercise and as a way to "get away from it all" without having to drive long distances. It's a kind of substitute for mountain biking in Corvallis's hills and forests. A kayak seemed like the ideal solution for Texas City. The city is bordered by bodies of water to the north and east. North of town is Moses Lake and Dollar Bay. Although they have two names it's really just one body of water, which I generically refer to as Moses Lake. Moses Lake is a saltwater bay which extends into a marshy bayou to the west. Eastward the lake is bounded by a levee which protects the city from flooding. The levee has a floodgate which serves as a gateway into the much larger Galveston Bay. Galveston Bay extends northward 50 miles inland towards Houston and empties into the Gulf of Mexico on its south side. Galveston Bay forms the eastern boundary of the city. The city's petrochemical port is along the bay, towards the south.

I've never owned a kayak, although I've rented one on a few occasions. My main criteria was price and the ability to haul the kayak inside the Buffalo. I ended up buying a basic 10 foot model. It has the word "Pelican" on it so that's what I've taken to calling it. So far I've mostly paddled it in Moses Lake. My first trip was a lesson on the effects of the wind on a small watercraft. The windier it is the more choppy the water becomes. (I know, it seems obvious, but like many things it's not something you think much about until it effects you personally.) In such a small craft the wave action is a major consideration. Heading crosswind in high wind is most exciting, since it tends to induce rolling. So far I've managed to prevent myself from tipping over, but I've gotten pretty wet on a couple of occasions. I found getting through the floodgate to also be a bit challenging. When the tide is coming in or going out the flow through the floodgate is substantial. Standing waves form on the outgoing side. You have to paddle hard and focus on staying parallel to the flow if you're going against the tide. The marshy bayou at the west end of Moses Lake has the best wildlife, mostly various types of birds. I've seen a few flamingos there. I'm planning on taking one more trip into Moses Lake before I start exploring the Galveston Bay shoreline.

The weather has been pretty nice lately. When I first arrived it was still rather hot compared to what I'm used to. The mosquitoes were still out in force. Since then the weather has taken a decidedly fall-like turn. Most days it's clear and sunny. Warm in the middle of the day, but not hot. The mosquitoes have abated. There's the occasional thunderstorm, but they roll through pretty quickly. It's a welcome change from the seemingly endless days of cold misty rain which I associate with Corvallis for much of the year.

Other than that I've mostly been helping Nina out with the bakery. The display case arrived about a week and a half ago. We had to remove the front door and partially disassemble the case to get it into the building. It's a nice case, especially considering that it's used. Opening day was last Friday, the day before Halloween. The case was stocked with cakeballs, cupcakes, cookies, and brownies. The brownies (which were a special diabetic friendly recipe Nina came up with) were the first to go. The cakeballs have also been popular. Nina and her two employees made some that looked like eyeballs, which were pretty cool looking. Overall the first two days exceeded expectations in terms of display case sales, so it was encouraging.

Nina consistently hears from the bakery's customers that they didn't know the place existed. One said she found the place when she got lost. So, a series of promotions are planned for the next few weeks. First up next week is a free cupcake / cakeball day that's being advertised in the local paper. Then there's an event called Taste of the Town. We're also to making a float (in the form of a giant cupcake) for a city parade in early December. Lastly, we're signing up as a vendor at Dickens On The Strand, a Victorian festival held in Galveston. Between that and the normal orders for custom cakes the bakery will be pretty busy.

Nina and I have continued running. She's broken her record for longest continuous run a few times now. Her record now stands at 30 minutes. In a couple of weeks we'll be running a 5k. The aspirational goal is to run the entire distance. I saw my brother Jose and his two kids on Halloween. The Blur has been relegated to commuting duties, as the nearest hills are a few hours drive. My mom has been busy sorting through my clothes, unceremoniously tossing anything which she deems too worn to keep wearing and replacing it with something she considers more appropriate. I suspect my old North Face climbing t-shirt was one of her victims. Her eyes got pretty big when I answered her question "When was the last time you washed your backpack" with "I've never washed my backpack." Nina talked me into filling out a contestant application for the TV show Survivor. One of the questions on the form was "Which previous contestant do you most identify with." My answer was none, since I haven't owned a TV in years and I've never watched the show.

Hope all is well wherever you are. Here's a few photos.

Back On The Bayou

2009-10-12T09:29:00.000-07:00

It's been a few days now since I arrived in Texas City. After leaving Yosemite I headed east, crossing Nevada, southern Utah, then cutting the southwestern corner of Colorado before heading south and then east into the Texas panhandle. After stopping in Dallas to look at some equipment for my youngest sister Nina I headed south towards Houston and eventually Texas City on the gulf coast.

I pretty much drove straight through until I arrived in Colorado, where I visited Mesa Verde. Mesa Verde is a series of canyons cut into table top mountains. The area is known for it's abandoned pre European cliff dwellings. The national park service operates tours of the dwellings. I spent a day taking the tours before leaving. I was hoping to do some backpacking while there but the park service doesn't allow it. The dwellings are similar to ones that I came across in Arizona during El Viaje #1, but larger. They're located under overhanging rock, so they're well preserved. The prevailing theory is that they were abandoned because of climate change.

I still wanted to get another backpacking trip in before leaving the mountains. I found a wilderness area in northwestern New Mexico called Ojitos which was near my route, so I stopped there for a few days. After exploring the canyons and mesas (including another outing without food) I left the mountains for the flat lands.

I've been pretty busy since arriving, mostly helping Nina with the bakery. She's been wanting to open up a store front for a while now (so far she's been operating on a bake to order basis) but hasn't had the time get everything together. After visiting multiple vendors I found a good used display case which is now on order. We're also upgrading the signage in preparation. Just this morning we settled on final design for the building's sign. The store front should be ready by the end of this month. Nina's given me a couple of lessons in baking and cake decoration. I'm not a natural at it. Fortunately she just hired another employee, who does have a talent for it.

I've lined up some tastings later this week with a few venues in Galveston, a nearby resort town. One of the venues is the San Luis, which is the premier resort on Galveston Island. Hopefully it'll go well and drum up additional business.

Nina's done a great job with the customers and her products. All the customers I've spoken to have been impressed with her work. "Bad ass" is a description I've heard uttered on more than one occasion. I think she's got her recipes and decoration techniques down pat. She'd probably disagree with my assessment, but that's why she's good at it.

There are a series of operational issues that we're working to address as well. In HP wafer fab parlance, rework rates are high. Pans end up with too much or too little batter, ingredient quantities are miscalculated when they are scaled, and ingredients sometimes run out in the middle of a recipe. It all leads to inefficiencies, both in terms of time and ingredient usage. The solution we're implementing is a combination of characterization (figure out exactly how much batter you need for each combination of recipe and pan) and tool development. The idea with the tool is that you input the pan size and recipes, then it calculates the ingredient quantities for you based on a database of recipes and the characterization data. The tool will also output how much batter to put into each of the different pans based on the characterization data. Hopefully it'll cut down on the waste. We're starting out with her two most popular recipes and proceeding from there. If it works out I'll eventually add a supplies management component. Since the tool will know how much ingredients are being used it should be able to track the amount remaining in inventory and raise a flag when quantities are low so that orders can be placed for additional ingredients.

I started running again since arriving. My leg still hurts a bit but I'm managing to keep up with Nina. She picked up running after she was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes earlier this year. With a change in diet and exercise she's lost 40 pounds so far. She had stopped running for a couple of weeks but is back at it again. We're hoping to break her record for longest continuous run later this week.

Other than that I've been hanging out with my nieces and nephew, my friend Elmo, and enjoying my mom's home cooked meals. I haven't seen my brother Jose yet. At some point I'd like to get a kayak and take it out on the bay. Since there aren't any hills here I need to find some other way to get my thrills.

Photos from the most recent leg of El Viaje are posted here. The photo at the top is the inside of kiva, a type of underground dwelling which the Mesa Verde residents used for their religious rituals.

Bears and Pigs

2009-09-30T14:11:00.000-07:00

Just left Yosemite. I entered Yosemite via the eastern entrance. Most visitors enter the park via Yosemite Valley, which is a western entrance. Yosemite Valley is the most visited part of the park, but it's only about 5% of the total park area. My plan was to backpack across the park from the eastern entrance to Yosemite Valley, then take a couple of days to see the valley's sights. I picked up my bear resistant container and a wilderness permit at one of the park offices. I immediately named my container "the pig" since it was heavy and I was going to eat it's contents. I filled it with a week's worth of food and started walking.

My first impression of Yosemite was that it gets a lot of visitors. Even on a weekday in the backcountry of the park you can come across a lot of people. Many trails look heavily used. If you're on a popular backcountry trail you may be sharing the good campsites with 100 other people. Supposedly I was visiting during the off season, so it must be even more crowded during the peak summer season. The closer I got to the valley the more people I saw. These were day hikers who had entered the park via the Yosemite Valley entrance. At some point I started feeling like I was in Los Angeles. I remember seeing guys that looked like gangsters from south central LA hiking up a beautiful canyon with a tall waterfall. It felt even more like LA when I got to valley floor and hopped on the free park bus. It looked and felt like a city bus, but people were dressed a little differently than you would see in a city bus. I remember hearing that Yosemite had begun offering the free bus service within the valley to combat smog from visitor's vehicles which was ruining the views. Since I had left the Buffalo at the east entrance, and my feet were tired, the bus service proved handy for my explorations of the valley.

The valley itself is a dramatic landscape of thousand foot cliffs, waterfalls, big trees, and beautiful meadows. I didn't even try to take photos that would do justice to the place. It seemed like a futile endeavor. The first day I used the bus to visit various parts of the valley. I learned at the visitor's center that the word "Yosemite" means "Those who kill." I wondered who or what "those" referred to and who they killed. The second day I rented a bike (which seemed to have become a popular way to travel in the valley) and day hiked a bit. That afternoon, while packing up, I saw a bear. I was in the backpacker's camp in the valley at the time. My belongings were sitting on picnic a table. I had just put the pig in my backpack. When I first saw the bear he was some distance away, but moving in my direction. I managed to get a couple of photos of him before my brain became too occupied with other matters. I was standing between the bear and the picnic table. I was surprised at how close he got to me before stopping and staring at me. It was close enough for me to see how big he was and to notice his long dagger like claws. I quickly realized that he could do a lot of damage to me. I wasn't sure what I should do, so I swung around to the other side of the table. The bear was now on the opposite side of the table from me. He started moving towards my orange snack bag on one end of the table. I quickly snatched it from right in front of him, then retreated a bit in case he tried to attack me. The bear then went for the backpack. He pushed it over and started looking for a way to get to the pig. I didn't want him to destroy my pack, but I still wasn't sure what to do. Fortunately there was another guy in the camp behind me. I asked him if he knew what I should do. He said to spread out my arms and make loud noises while moving closer. So that's what I did. It started to work, then the guy behind me joined in, and it worked even better. The bear gave out a loud snort then ran off into the forest. The pack had suffered only minor scratches and a wet spot where the bear's snot had landed. Later I learned that these bears can weigh up to 350 pounds and lift three times their own weight.

Having survived the bear encounter, I made my way to the bus stop. I was planning on taking a regional bus back to the east entrance of the park. It was something like $8 for the two hour trip. I got back to the Buffalo late. After a good night's sleep I decided to head out for another trip into the Yosemite backcountry. This time I was going to do some cross-country hiking in less popular areas of the park. I decided to do this trip thin. I didn't bring any food at all, which also meant I had no need for a stove, fuel, bear canister, or cookware. It saved a lot of weight. I headed off again. It had gotten colder and cloudier. Up to this point I'd had clear sunny skies every day. There were less people, and when I headed cross-country there were no people. I spent a couple of days checking out high alpine lakes. There were many of them at the higher elevations. On what became my last day out it started snowing. I had found a wonderful shelter underneath a huge boulder that was near a good water source. Staying dry and warm were not going to be a problem. Even with no food I could easily stay out for many days. However, hanging out under a boulder for a whole day or more didn't seem terribly entertaining, so I headed down. By the time I got back to the Buffalo it had gotten nastier and I was glad I hadn't stayed out longer. Soon enough I was making my way across the sunny, dry deserts of Nevada.

Right now I'm in southwestern Utah, a couple of hours northeast of Las Vegas. My plans are to continue east through southern Utah, eventually crossing into southwestern Colorado. While there I'm planning on visiting Mesa Verde National Park. I just spoke at length with my younger sister Nina and decided that I should expedite my trip a bit. Potentially I could arrive at Texas City in a week or so.

Photos from the Yosemite leg of the trip are here. Unfortunately I forgot to bring the camera on my second outing in Yosemite.

Searching For Yoda And A "Bear Resistant Container"

2009-09-22T17:42:00.000-07:00

The last couple of weeks seem to have been filled with send offs and visits with people I know from living in Oregon. It was great to see everyone before leaving for a while, and I enjoyed all the send offs. The Willamette River float was especially memorable. Amongst other things, the boat got dumped, Matt got sick, and I got to play around with a beautifully made staff that I received from one of my older sisters.

After leaving Corvallis I headed up towards The Dalles. Ann and her family were having a get together over a long weekend. I had been invited. They had rented a house along the Columbia River, which separates Oregon from Washington. The house was really nice. More of a property really. The property was well manicured, had a main house, two guest houses, a boat house, and even a small private beach. It was right on the river. Ann's nephews, Henry and Owen, had come along. I watched Star Wars V with them. Later we went for hikes in the gorge, looking for a Jedi master named Yoda. We visited waterfalls along the gorge on the first day. On the second day we took a tour of the orchard country just south of Hood River, followed by a visit to Timberline Lodge on Mt Hood. After saying bye to everyone I headed south into central Oregon along the east side of the Cascades.

While driving through, I stopped to visit Cliff near Bend. We had arranged to hang out for a few days, but I wasn't sure what we were going to do. At some point I decided I'd just do whatever Cliff wanted to do and see what happens. In GW Bush parlance, Cliff was the decider. Cliff's idea was to climb Mt Thielsen, one of the Oregon Cascades crags, over the course of two or three days. I'd never climbed Thielsen and it's always fun to spend a night or two out in a wilderness area, so I was all for it. Cliff made a good decision by putting me in charge of deciding what technical gear to bring. I brought a full rope, a set of nuts, some draws, and some slings. I was sure it would be overkill given the route description, but Cliff was still a bit new to this stuff and I'd hate to get him hurt. We set out in the early afternoon. Our plan was to hike in until we got tired or found a good place to camp. By the time we got to the base of the route we realized we hadn't brought enough water. We had hoped to find a creek or a melting snowfield, but had seen nothing at all. We only had a liter left between the two of us. The nearest guaranteed water we knew of (Diamond Lake) was four miles away and pretty far down. After a good amount of discussion we changed the trip objective to something that involved spending the night at Diamond Lake. Down we went. We set up camp some time after 9:00. The next morning we filled up on water and headed back to Cliff's truck, taking trails near the road and sometimes bushwhacking. On our second night we car camped at Miller Lake, a high lake east and a bit north of Thielsen. We then headed back to Cliff's house (also a pretty nice place). I spent one night there then left in the morning.

After driving all day yesterday I find myself in Bridgeport, California looking for a "bear resistant container." Bridgeport is on the east side of the Sierra Nevadas close to the Nevada border. I should be less than an hour's drive from Yosemite, my next destination. I'm planning on some backpacking and hiking while I'm there. Apparently you're required to carry anything that a bear might like in one of these containers if you're going to be in the Yosemite backcountry.

Here's a link to some photos. The photo at the top is from Miller Lake. I was fascinated by the dance of the light on the rocks.

Buffaloes and Cowboys in the Wallowas

2009-09-11T14:00:00.000-07:00

I've got a few more days of work left before I leave Corvallis. I finished up with the house and the renters have moved in. I took advantage of the empty house to fix a few things and replace the dishwasher. While I was at it I took the Buffalo to the shop to get a few problems looked at. They found a number of problems (worn out CV joints, holes in the exhaust system) beyond what I was aware of. The input valve for the propane tank had also failed, which resulted in a leak when you tried to fill the tank. Ann was with me when I tried to fill it once. She refused to get in the van when I tried to start it (I don't blame her) for fear of an explosion. I started it up with Ann standing some distance away and drove it down the block and back. Having seen that I hadn't blown myself up I picked up Ann and we proceeded on our way.

The Buffalo's parked at Ann's house until I leave. It's a little less loaded up than El Viaje #1. No ice axe or crampons since I'm not planning on doing anything that involves glaciers. I'll be bringing less clothes too. Clothes are bulky and I learned from El Viaje #1 that the only reason I care about clean clothes is because other people do. I'm also leaving the frying pan since I almost never used it except as a cover for the pot.

After finishing with the house Ann and I took a trip out to the Wallowas in northeastern Oregon. On the way there the Buffalo died suddenly in central Oregon. I got it to restart with the engine cover off and noticed that one of the belts wasn't turning. The belt in question drove the alternator and water pump, both of which are rather important parts. After loosening the belt and trying to turn the water pump and alternator pulley by hand I diagnosed the problem as a seized alternator. It would need to be replaced. Having driven many miles in a 22 year old vehicle I've come to expect these sort of things. The Water Buffalo is a slow, cantankerous, old beast which sometimes refuses to work. It could die at any time, possibly in the middle of nowhere. Half the reason I carry a bike on longer trips is in case I need to abandon the Buffalo at some point. I've learned that, for more than one reason, you shouldn't be in a hurry if you're riding on a buffalo. When these things happen you can get upset, angry, worried, feel sorry for yourself, etc, but it seems like a pointless thing to do. So, I skipped through all of it, pretty much instantaneously in this case. Patience and acceptance are lessons the Buffalo is good at teaching.

Having thus accepted my circumstances, I started thinking about how to remedy the situation. The nearest town was Prineville. We were pretty close, no more than 15 miles. It was mostly flat or downhill. I could coast the downhills, shutting the engine down to keep it from overheating (no water pump) and draining the battery (no alternator). On the flats I'd need to start the engine. If it began to get too hot I'd just stop and let the engine cool. Turning on the heaters could help. If the battery died I could wire the auxiliary battery in parallel. I was confident I could make it back to Prineville without having to call a tow truck. That's when it hit me. I realized I was thinking like I did when I was high school, when I had junky cars and no money. I remembered that I now had auto insurance, and that it covered towing. I had credit cards to pay for stuff. Time seemed more important now. All of this flashed through my mind within the space of a few seconds after having realized what the problem with the Buffalo was.

We had broken down next to a road construction site. I walked over to one of the workers and asked if he had the phone number to a towing service in Prineville. He did. Even better, we still had cell phone coverage. A few hours and a few hundred dollars later we were on our way again.

So much for that. Later I wondered if calling the tow truck was worthwhile. My scheme to get back to Prineville without one seemed like it could work, and may have even taken less time. After some thought I decided that what I should have done was to call the tow truck, but then immediately start working on implementing my scheme. Unless, that is, I felt lazy, which I've now concluded was the real reason I called the tow truck.

On to the Wallowas. The Wallowas are Oregon's second highest mountain range. Unlike the Cascades (the highest range in Oregon), they're not glaciated, nor are they of volcanic origin. I'd been in the Wallowas once before. During that trip it had snowed on July 4th. Supposedly there's some good alpine rock in the Wallowas, but if I were going to drive this far to go climbing I'd go to the North Cascades instead. Our plan was to do a three day, two night tour of an alpine lake basin located in the interior of the range. The distance was 27 miles, plus whatever we added on for short side trips. The hike starts at the end of a glacier carved valley. We headed directly up the main valley before gaining a high plateau, which housed the lakes. All the lakes were idyllic. Pretty scenery, critters of all sizes running around loose, cold streams, and blooming flowers turning meadows into tapestries of color. I couldn't help but go for a dip in a couple of the lakes and shower myself in a waterfall. It was a popular area for backpackers, fishermen, hunters, and horse riders. The lake basin can be reached from many routes.

Just as we were about to arrive at our last camp I met three men on horseback. They were heading out from the lake we were heading towards. Each one had a beer can in their hand. They were a bit lost, but they didn't seem to be too concerned about it. Ann and I helped them figure out how to get to their destination. It turns out they were about to make a wrong turn. They had six horses between the three of them. A couple of the horses had large Igloo coolers mounted on either side of them. They offered us some beers in return for helping them. They were from near by. Two of them were dressed the part of cowboys, with oilskin coats and cowboy hats. The third guy was dressed like a boat captain. He had a sailor hat on and more of a nautical theme to him. All three looked pretty happy. We chatted for a bit. At one point I asked how many beers they had brought with them. Eight cases one guy said. That's about 200 beers. We said our goodbyes, wished each other well, and headed our own ways. Later I wished I had taken a photo of them.

Afterwards I couldn't help thinking that all along I've been doing these trips the wrong way. We say we take fat trips, but that's nothing compared to the kind of trip a pack animal enables. Chris was on to something when he brought up the idea of bringing live chickens on our Sisters trip. I know goats can be trained to carry stuff, and I've always wanted a goat for other reasons. Seems like a good place to get started with pack animals.

That's it for now. Photos from the Wallowas trip are here. The photo at the top is of Glacier Lake. It was the nicest lake we visited.

Three Sisters

2009-08-20T10:45:00.000-07:00

I decided to start posting to this blog again. It seems appropriate since I'm seven working days away from my second leave of absence from HP. For now I'm on a three week vacation. The vacation started with a four day, three night trip into Oregon's Three Sisters Wilderness. The plan was to backpack into an alpine environment, climb a peak or two, and tool around on a glacier. The usual suspects came, along with Cliff (who I hadn't seen in about a year), and Julius. We were six in total.

We started with a several mile hike, mostly along a maintained trail. Where a stream crossed the trail we turned west, more or less following the stream to it's source, the Hayden Glacier. Somewhere below the glacier in a pretty meadow strewn with alpine flowers and glacier fed streams we found our first camp site. After dumping our camp supplies four of us headed up to the glacier. The boys found a good crevasse to descend. My leg hurt so I didn't partake. After heading back down to camp my leg was hurting pretty good. I dipped it into an ice cold stream next to camp and it instantly felt much better.

We had decided to make this a slow and fat trip. Amongst other things, this means that we have plenty of good food. We had a couple of Indian entrees this first night. I also tried grilling some Mexican style corn on the cob (yes, I had hauled corn ears several miles and a few thousand vertical feet, along with mayonnaise, chili powder, and a lime). Everything was great. After meeting Cliff the next morning we packed everything up and headed towards the glacier. Our objective was the high ridge between Middle and North Sister. Climbing the glacier was a piece of cake. It was relatively low angle and the surface was soft. Upon reaching the ridge we found some good camp sites. We set up camp and relaxed a bit. Our next goal was to climb Middle Sister. Middle Sister is the fifth highest peak in Oregon. I had climbed it a few times before. The summit is just over ten thousand feet. It's an easy climb but looks intimidating from the ridge where we'd set up camp. We were already at an elevation of 9000 ft, so we didn't really have much further to go. After saying bye to Julius (he needed to be at work the next day) the rest of us started up. In no time were were on the summit. We stayed on the summit for a long time before heading back to camp. After a meal of salmon, couscous, and more Mexican style corn on the cob, it started getting dark.

We were spending the night in a pretty special place. The ridge we were on separates Western Oregon from Central Oregon. You can see the better part of the state from there, and on a clear day you can see parts of Washington and California as well. Needless to say the views are spectacular. We figured that every other person in the state of Oregon would be spending the night somewhere below us. The night sky was also pretty amazing. There were so many stars, and you could see the structure of the Milky Way Galaxy in the sky. I felt grateful for being able to reach the ridge and stay there for a night. It was something I'd been wanting to do for a while.

The next morning Matt, Chris and Tim ran up and down Middle Sister again. Meanwhile Cliff and I headed north along to the ridge to get a better look at North Sister. North Sister is the fourth highest peak in the state. I've attempted it once (in winter) but have never reached the summit. We had talked about attempting it on this trip, but the conditions weren't appealing (it's easier and safer when covered with snow), and I was a bit concerned about how my leg would hold up. After regrouping with the rest of the guys we broke camp and headed back down the glacier. Matt and Chris were on the hunt for some crevasses to climb. After a couple of false starts they found a huge one, probably the biggest any of us have seen in Oregon. On one side the crevasse opened up into a view of Broken Top. On the other side it was covered with a snow bridge, looking like the inside of a gothic cathedral sculpted from ice.

I decided to attempt this one. A shock of pain ran up my right leg every time I kicked the crampons into the ice, so I decided once was enough. After a little convincing (he'd never climbed ice prior to this) Cliff also took a shot at the ice. He did really well and was glad to have tried it. The boys were up for more and went looking for another hole in the ice to wear themselves out on. Meanwhile, since I wasn't going to ice climb any more, I headed down to find a camp site for our final night out. Our last camp was in the trees next to the same stream we'd followed up to the glacier. The water was roaring and cold. It was a great spot to wash up after being out for three days. Dinner was beef stew, chili, and macaroni. Matt, Chris, and I burned some more energy scrambling up a bluff of rock near by. I fell asleep early. The next morning we hiked out and drove home.

I think it's safe to say that everyone enjoyed the trip. We all forgot about the rest of the world for a few days. For me at least, these trips are a reminder that you really don't need much. I also enjoy seeing nature's processes at work. Since you're gaining a lot of elevation you get to see a lot of different environments, and how they interact with each other. The high mountains squeeze water (often in the form of snow) from the moist air moving in from the Pacific. The snow accumulates into glaciers. In the dry summer season the glaciers melt, bringing water to all the living things below. After the living things take the water they need, the water returns to the ocean and the whole cycle starts over. At the same time the glaciers are pulled down the mountain by gravity, grinding away at the underlying rock. The water rushing out of the glacier further pulverizes the rock, and transports it downstream, turning it into soil for the trees and plants below. Eventually the soil, like the water, will also be recycled, and may return in the form of a mountain to start the process again. The sun provides energy, and together with the water, soil, and air, everything the plants and trees need to grow is delivered. In a very real sense the living things owe their existence to the rock and ice. There's a harmony and patience to it all which often seems absent from the human world. Probably it's one of the reasons I like to take these trips.

For the next ten days or so I'll be working on getting my house ready for the renters, and preparing for the drive to Texas. After that Ann and I are going to take a short excursion over Labor Day weekend. Then I'm back to work for two weeks before my leave officially starts.

My favorite photos from the trip are here. The photo at the top is from one of the streams near our first camp site. This particular stream was especially verdant. In the background behind the stream is South Sister.

Last Blast

2008-07-31T07:38:00.000-07:00

The last month of my leave has passed and I'll be returning to work tomorrow. During the first half of the month I was getting my house back in order and dealing with some issues we ran into with the commercial site we were going to buy for the bakery.

I've pretty much finished moving in. I decided to take the approach of only moving stuff from the garage (where I stored everything during my absence) into the house when I needed it. Most of the furniture is in the house now. What's left in the garage seems to be mostly clothes and kitchen utensils. I've gotten more used to living in a house again, although I still often sleep outside in the back yard. I've noticed that some of the neighborhood cats like to hang out there in the evenings.

The renters took pretty good care of the house, especially considering that they were three male college students. They cleaned it really well. There was some damage, but it's mostly minor and mainly falls into the category of normal wear and tear. They left a few valuables. Three bottles of liquor, a lawn mower, and three truck wheels with tires mounted, amongst other things. I recently sold the truck wheels on Craig's list.

After I settled in I had some people over for dinner on a Sunday night. The main dish was chile verde with Spanish rice and fresh made tortillas. If you enjoy good Mexican food you should try the chile verde. It's really good, and cheap too. I fed about 16 people for maybe $15. The recipe I used can be found here.

During the first half of July we ran into some issues with the property we were buying for the bakery. We found out that the place used to be a gas station many years ago. Also, people who used to work there said that they sometimes smelled fumes. I became concerned about the potential for an environmental clean up liability. The roof wasn't in as good a shape as we were lead to believe. Enough inconsistencies between what the seller told us and what we were discovering came up that I decided to exercise an exit clause in the contract. Many thanks to Nina, Jesse, and Elmo for their due diligence on the property and looking out in my best interest. They helped convinced me to exercise the exit clause. There's still an issue with the deposit refund that the seller has not budged on. It's not a large amount of money but I've already talked to a lawyer about it and it could end up in small claims court.

The good news is that my sister quickly found another property, which is better in many ways than the one we were going to buy. It's located in a higher traffic area, the property is larger, it's substantially cheaper than the other location, the layout is more conducive to a bakery, it's closer to my sister's house, and it's being sold directly by the owner. I just signed the closing papers today. We'll be doing some facilities work and equipment installs during August. Then we'll need to get it permitted as a bakery. We're expecting it to become operational towards the end of August, so we're planning a grand opening for September. I'll be glad when it's all done and we can focus more on operations and growth.

During the latter half of July I took a week long excursion into the Mt Jefferson Wilderness Area. This was my last opportunity to get out for an extended period before I started working again. I was alone during the first half of my outing, backpacking and day hiking on the north and west sides of the wilderness. Amongst other places I visited Jefferson Park, a beautiful alpine meadow at the northern base of Mt Jefferson. I've often recognized photos and videos from Jefferson Park in various advertisements. It looked like the last day of winter was yesterday here. The lakes and trails were still mostly covered with snow. The views of the north side of Mt Jefferson were as impressive as I remember. It's still hard for me to believe that I'd gone up it years ago during a climb. The wildflowers were out in many of the places I walked through, adding to the beauty of the wilderness. I was reminded during the outing how easy it is to take water for granted if you spend a lot of time in the Pacific Northwest. It's all over the place here, to the point that the locals often complain about it. After various trips into the desert over the past year I keep thinking better to have too much water than too little. Of course, I may not feel that way after the wet season starts again.

On the fourth night of my Jefferson Wilderness trip I met El Chino, the NavUnit, and Frankie Five Angels (F5A) at the Pamelia Lake trailhead. Our plan was to climb Mt Jefferson, the centerpiece of the wilderness area. Mt Jefferson (or Jeff, as we often call it) is the second highest peak in Oregon. It's considered the most difficult of the major Oregon peaks. Relative to Oregon's other mountains, the approaches are long and start low. All of the routes to the summit also have some technical element to them. Despite multiple serious attempts none of us had ever made the summit. The NavUnit's planning and logistics module had put together a tight plan to maximize likelyhood of success, but there are always elements which are beyond human control. After spending the night at the trailhead we started up. The first day involved hiking, bushwhacking, and scrambling to a point above treeline. The goal was to get to at least 7800 ft. 7.5 hours and 4700 vertical feet later we were at a nice site on the southwest ridge of Jefferson. It had a great view south, right down the Pacific crest towards other major peaks. We set up stoves and began melting snow soon after our arrival. In keeping with the "slow and fat" tradition we had plenty of delicious food. The NavUnit's logistics module had wisely put El Chino in charge of the food. The seemingly endless Italian subs and homemade beef jerky kept us fed for most of the first day. For dinner we sampled shrimp jumblaya and beef stew with avocadoes and pita bread. We threw in some cheese just because we had so much of it. For dessert we had chocolate chip cookies. The crew discovered that an empty half avocado skin makes an excellent biodegrable bowl. I'm sure it's become a day of legend for the critters that scowered the area afterwards looking for flaunt (food we'd dropped). Compared to what's normally there to eat (rocks and ice, as far as I could tell) our flaunt must have been like manna from heaven. After eating dinner we went to bed.

We woke up at 2:00 AM the next morning to a clear sky and still air. It seemed warmer than it had been when we went to bed. Despite the warm air the snow was hard as concrete. The moon was bright enough that I often had my headlamp turned off. Conditions were ideal. After a few hours of scrambling up various forms of junk rock we reached the first technical section: a steep, exposed traverse under a rotten rock pinnacle. Conditions again fell in our favor, as the traverse was covered with frozen snow. The NavUnit found the best line higher up on the snowfield and we crossed with little incident (aside from El Chino's crampon coming off). A little more traversing and we were at the base of the final summit pinnacle. From there we climbed bare rock, mostly without active use of the rope. F5A, with the angels backing him up, lead a short belayed section on exposed technical rock. Two minutes later we were sunning ourselves on the summit. There was a wide grin on everyone's face. The climb had been something of a memorial for a coworker and friend of ours who's name also happened to be Jeff, but spelled Geoff. El Chino left Geoff's work badge on the summit, and added his name to ours on the summit register. After downclimbing and rappelling the summit pinnacle we crossed the still frozen snowfield. As soon as we finished crossing sunshine reached the snowfield. On a previous attempt I'd crossed the same snowfield later in the day after it had been softened by the sun. It much less intimidating this time around when it was frozen. We continued downwards. Upon reaching our camp we relaxed and ate for a while, then packed and headed back to the trailhead. It was about 6:30 PM when I got there. The NavUnit had to head back out and search for El Chino, who had made a wrong turn on a hiking trail. After saying goodbye I hopped into the Buffalo and sped off for home.

The Mt Jefferson climb seemed, in many ways, like the most appropriate way to spend the last weekend of my leave. I'm really happy that we all finally managed to get to the summit. Judging by the entries in the summit register visits are rare, in keeping with Jeff's reputation. Everything seemed to fall into place just right to enable our names to be added. Despite all the weight on my back (climbing gear is heavy) I felt pretty good during most of the climb. The bushwhacking section of the descent and the long boulder / scree field traverse we did as part of the descent were my least favorite parts. Still, I've felt much worse during other climbs, and considering what we'd done I felt pretty good. My feet weren't mangled at all (which is more than I can say for some of my climbing partners), and in a couple of days I'd mostly recovered. I also didn't wind up unable to walk or in a hospital, like Matt did after his 100 mile race (see Matt's Big Blog). I was pretty fat really.

The Water Buffalo's overheating problem seems to have been cured (or at least sufficiently mitigated to enable me to drive it long distances) by my tightening of a hose clamp. I have had to use the old trick of turning on the heater a few times when it was running hot. Luckily there's a heater both up front and in the back, so together they add substantial engine cooling capacity. I keep meaning to check the radiator fan. It seems like I used to be able to hear it when it was running, and I never hear it anymore. Since the heater trick works pretty well I may never get to it. On the way back from a bike ride with Ann the Buffalo died on the highway and refused to restart. It turns out to have run out of gas. The gas gauge doesn't work and I'd been driving it so little that I'd forgotten when I last refueled it.

Tomorrow's my first day back at work. I don't know what I'll be doing yet, as I'm returning in the middle of a reorganization. I showed up at the HP cafeteria a couple of weeks ago to have lunch with a coworker. Several other coworkers showed up at the table. I told them stories from my trip. Their reactions were pretty varied, but they all seemed entertained.

Photos from the Mt Jefferson excursion (including the climb) are here. The photo at the top is from Jefferson Park looking south across a lake towards the north side of Mt Jefferson.

By the way, I added a "Favorite Quotes & Sayings" and "Links" section off to the right of the El Viaje's main text. I don't know who most of the quotes or sayings are attributed to.

Enjoying the Northwest

2008-07-03T14:14:00.000-07:00

It's been a bit over a month since I returned to Corvallis. The weather, especially lately, is the kind of weather that reminds the natives of why they live here.

I've mostly stayed in Corvallis since I returned. In fact, the Buffalo's still on the same tank of gas that I originally arrived on. I've been running and biking a lot, pretty much every day. I've also been doing a lot of cooking. Ann and I have had home cooked dinners every day. Other than that I've been putting time into the bakery.

I decided to move ahead with the purchase of a commercial property for the bakery. I waffled a bit on whether to go ahead and purchase the property or wait and see how the sales went. What finally convinced me was a quote request we got from a corporate customer in early June. We didn't get the order in the end, but had we gotten it it would have been worth a couple tens of thousands of dollars. I don't know how we could have actually filled it baking out of my sister's house. We bid on it anyway, thinking we'd figure it out later. In any case, I took it as a sign to get ready for larger orders. The contract for the property has been signed and we're scheduled to take possession on August 1. Preliminary sales figures for June look like they dropped relative to May, but we got a lot of orders during June for July and August delivery.

My other big project has been an upgrade to the bakery's web site. I've been trying to do all of it myself. It's required a lot of learning, especially since I decided to use Flash technology for the product image gallery. It's been a real challenge, but the programming part is mostly done. I'm slowly realizing that the most challenging part (graphic design) may still be ahead of me. I've never been much of an artist, and it seems like this phase could use some artistic skills. I'll see how it goes. I'd like to have it all up and running by the end of July.

I guess the other big news is that I decided to return to HP when my leave ends at the end of July. I really didn't think I was going to return. A big part of the reason I am returning is that HP is allowing me to return as a part time employee. I was surprised that HP would allow me to return part time, given that head count at the Corvallis site is being reduced. I think it was agreed to in part because it involves a reduction in my pay scale. I'll be dropping down to the pay scale that I was on seven years ago, when I was a specialist engineer. It doesn't really matter to me. I was prepared to live on very little income prior to deciding to return, so it all seems like a boon. What I mainly wanted out of the deal was more free time than a full time position would give me. Admittedly, I'd prefer not being tied down to a geographic location, but there are some nice side benefits to being in Corvallis.

I have taken a couple of excursions with my climbing buddies since I returned. Earlier in June the Nav Unit (Chris), El Chino (Al), and I took a two day trip to Smith Rock. Smith is the best known rock climbing area in the Northwest. I've been there many times, but my last trip was probably a few years ago. It's a beautiful place that's popular with both climbers and hikers. The first day we top roped a couple of routes that were at or above our abilities. The Nav Unit managed to get up both of them. El Chino and I spent a lot of time working the crux moves. I eventually wore myself out trying to figure out how to get up a rock rib. Climbing such routes really exposes the puzzle-like aspects of climbing. The route is a jigsaw puzzle that you have to put together. Attempting a certain move onto a certain spot is the equivalent of seeing if two pieces will fit. Falling off means the pieces didn't fit. On easier routes you can afford to be sloppy. There are many pieces that fit with each other, so you don't have to think too hard. On these routes, at least for me, the pieces had to go together just right.

The next day we lead some rock routes. I got to practice my trad leading again. Trad leading has some game-like aspects as well. First place is the equivalent of getting to the top without falling or hanging on the rope. If you win, the gear and rope were actually a useless, expensive hindrance. The rock has, in a sense, played a joke on you. It fooled you into thinking that you needed a bunch of gear when you actually needed none of it. You think you've won, but were you actually suckered? This realization is, to me, part of the appeal of solo climbing (climbing with no gear at all). Last place is, of course, falling and getting killed. Like all games, there are a variety of strategies that you can follow. At one end of the spectrum is "fast and lazy." The premise behind this strategy is that hauling and placing gear is hard work and takes time. All of the energy you spend messing with the gear is energy that doesn't go into the climbing itself. Better to place minimal gear so you can put all your effort into actual climbing. Soloing is just fast and lazy taken to it's logical conclusion. At the other of the spectrum is "slow and secure." Here, the premise is that you can easily kill or severely injure yourself while climbing. Best to haul and place a lot of gear. Yes, it takes time, but isn't your life worth it? As I progress with my trad leading I'm finding out where I fall on this spectrum. It won't surprise many of you that, relative to the Nav Unit, I'm on the lazy end of things. It's also worth mentioning that the Nav Unit has never had a broken bone and I've had several.

Besides Smith, my other, more recent excursion was a trip I took with Matt to climb Mt Baker. Mt Baker is situated in the northwestern corner of the continental US. It's 30 miles from the Pacific coast and 15 miles from the Canadian border. Baker has the distinction of being the "snowiest" (known) place on Earth. It holds the world record for cumulative snowfall in a single season. 95 ft in the 1998-1999 season. Certainly, there is a lot of snow on Mt Baker. To me, Mt Baker looked like a head of rock struggling to keep above a sheet of glacier ice. The ice extended over the top of Mt Baker in the form of an ice cap. Only on the front part of the head, where the face is located, could you see some rock. Nature was busy here, turning the ice into rivers which fed the valleys below. The sketchiest part of the whole trip was the approach hike, which involved crossing raging torrents of ice water. Matt found a wonderful camp site at 7200 ft on a high ridge. It had spectacular views in all directions and we had it to ourselves. The nicest places are found in spots that no road leads to. While mining ice for subsequent processing into water Matt discovered a patch of ice worms. These critters spend their entire lives (3-5 years) in glaciers. After a big dinner we tried to sleep. At 1:30 AM we started preparing for our summit bid.

We had originally hoped to climb the North Ridge of Baker, but decided against it due to the warm temperatures and possibility of thunderstorms. Instead we climbed the Coleman - Deming route. This route mostly runs on glaciers. It's pretty straight forward and never too steep. Snow conditions were sloshy, but improved a bit halfway up. We saw some mean looking thunder clouds once it got light, and it rained a bit higher up, but the weather held out and got better later in the day. Matt's training for his 100 mile run paid off and we made fast progress up. We reached the summit around 6:30 AM, apparently the first party to summit that day. Shortly after our arrival we saw the sun for the first time. After taking photos we headed back down. We passed about a dozen climbers heading up as we descended. Judging by all the tracks we saw this route is quite popular. On the way down we saw crevasses and hanging glaciers we'd missed during the night. The hanging glaciers were pretty impressive. They looked to be 400 or 500 ft thick. Below them were house sized chunks of ice which had calved off from the glacier higher up. Yep, it snows a lot here.

After resting at our camp for a bit we decided to head back down. We had considered tooling around inside of a crevasse, but there was still a lot of snow and we figured we'd have better opportunities in August. I was back at my house by 9:00 PM. Technically I wasn't supposed to take possession of my house for another three hours but I decided to sleep there anyway. The renters had clearly left.

That's where things are for the moment. I expect it will take another few days to get fully situated in my house. After that I'll be back to work on the web site. Ann and I will probably take a weekend trip somewhere and another Cascades climb is in the works. Sometime in August I'll likely go ice climbing as well. The Buffalo's been getting a nice long rest. On the way out from Matt's house it overheated. Yesterday I found a cooling system leak up front. I tightened a clamp ring and the leak stopped. Hopefully that was the cause.

It's a little odd being back in the house. My first thought on seeing the inside is that it's a waste of space. When I removed the false wall in the garage where my stuff is stored I wondered why I had so many things. Clearly I didn't need them all. The only thing I wished I hadn't left were my snowshoes. I'll probably end up getting rid of some more things.

Photos from Baker are here. I didn't have a camera for the Smith trip. The photo at the top is from the summit of Mt Baker. The thunderclouds were moving north (left in the photo). Matt and I sat back and admired the view while we waited for the sun to come out from behind the clouds and warm us up.

Back In Corvallis

2008-06-02T15:59:00.000-07:00

I arrived back in Corvallis on May 29th. It rained during my entire traverse across Oregon. A fitting welcome, I thought.

After leaving Monterrey and crossing back into the US at Laredo, Texas I headed west. I visited Guadalupe Mountains National Park just south of the New Mexico border and the nearby Carlsbad Caverns just on the other side of the NM border. I day hiked in the Guadalupes and managed to make the top of Texas's highest peak.

From there I headed more or less due north, stopping to see the Taos Pueblo. The pueblo is billed as the oldest continuously inhabited settlement in the US. I then crossed into south central Colorado. I spent several days there hiking and backpacking in the Great Dunes National Park and the adjacent Sangre de Cristo mountains. The dunes are the largest in the US. They seem out of place, being adjacent to lush pine forests and 14,000 ft snow capped peaks. During my backpacking trip into the dunes I was surprised to find various forms of life eeking out an existence amongst the sand. I attempted a nearby 14er but there was too much snow on the ground. Out of all the things I didn't have in the Buffalo probably what I most wish I had brought is a pair of snowshoes.

From the dunes I headed towards Denver. I stayed there with a friend for a few days and went downhill skiing with him one day. I hadn't skied all season and I really enjoyed our outing, as well as catching up from our last meeting. From there I picked up Ann at the airport and we headed to her brother's house in Boulder. I was there for a few days over the Memorial Day weekend. Her two nephews, like other young kids I encountered during my trip, enjoyed playing in the Buffalo. One of them spent the night in it with me. The younger one really enjoyed driving the Buffalo.

Ann and I took a day trip to Rocky Mountain National Park. From what I saw it's a great park. Anyone who likes mountains would love this place. The road which runs along the spine of the park had just opened for the season. It must be one of the highest roads in the US. The road traverses alpine tundra, normally an environment you can only see on foot (at least in the continental US). It was still early in the season (lots of snow) so hiking opportunities were limited (assuming you don't have snowshoes). I hope to return some day with snowshoes or under more favorable conditions.

Ann, her sister, brother, and oldest nephew also ran the Bolder Boulder. This is a 10k run billed as the largest timed race in the US. The run has a carnival atmosphere, with bands playing live music along the route, people running in various outlandish costumes, and cold beer waiting at the finish line. After having dinner with TO, an old high school buddy, I started driving again. I would have liked to stay longer and climb in the Flatirons near Boulder but it was raining and the weather outlook for the next few days suggested it would continue.

From Denver I headed more or less directly back to Corvallis. Returning to Corvallis was a little strange at first but I've quickly gotten used to it. It's nice to be back amongst old friends. Through bike rides with the boys and time spent with Ann I realized there were some little things that I missed. I also have a greater appreciation of the area than when I left.

I'm planning on staying in the Corvallis area at least through June. The bakery is doing well. Certainly, there are still some challenges, but May sales increased 230% over April's sales and we made a profit. Orders have come in from various parts of Houston. My sister's been very busy, often staying up into the wee hours to complete orders. We've made offers on a commercial property in Texas City. The business name will have to change due to a conflict we discovered when we attempted to register the business with the state of Texas. We've also started looking at the supply chain more carefully. To date my sister's been purchasing supplies from local grocery stores. We've been contacting wholesale distributors looking for better deals on bulk deliveries of the most used ingredients. We want to continue our sales growth, in part through further marketing. Amongst other things this involves making improvements to the web site. We're also working on improving our accounting practices. Anyhow, it's all kept me somewhat busy. It almost feels like I'm back at HP. Certainly, I'm having to learn quite a lot, something which I'm enjoying.

I hope to take a few days off in June to take advantage of this year's abundant snowpack in the Cascades. A trip up Rainier, Hood, and / or Jefferson with the boys is in the works. I've been running with Ann (who is training for another race) often and have also returned to mountain biking the local trails. Beyond June there's uncertainty. Once we take possession of a property I'll likely fly down to Texas City to help with the start-up, but I don't know exactly when that will be. Meanwhile, I plan on continuing blog updates.

Here's some photos from this most recent leg of my trip. My camera died in Colorado, so some of the photos are from my cell phone's camera. The photo at the top is of a caterpillar I encountered in the middle of the Colorado dunes. I watched him for a good while, curious to see where he was going. It was very windy that day. He was frequently blown over, and struggled up the piles of sand. Despite this he kept going, but I never figured where he was heading. Only he knows, I suppose.

For those who are interested, the total trip mileage (starting from when I left Corvallis in September) was 19819 miles. The Buffalo's still alive, although I had to apply some duct tape to keep the bumpers from falling off. I'm giving it a good rest by seeing how long I can go without using it.

Many thanks to everyone who made El Viaje a once in a lifetime experience!

Monterrey & Mexico City

2008-05-09T19:32:00.000-07:00

I made my last entry just before leaving Texas City. Since then I've driven to Monterrey, Mexico.

My trip to Monterrey was fairly uneventful until I arrived at the northern outskirts of the city. At that point the Buffalo began to falter. At first it lost power, and shortly thereafter the engine died, refusing to restart. After waiting for 20 or 30 minutes it started again. I'd drive for a bit, then it would die again. I slowly crawled through the city by repeating this cycle multiple times. At one point, while in the city center, I found myself pushing the Buffalo down a six lane avenue in rush hour traffic. I was making slow progress to the south side of the city, where my aunts and uncles live. Darkness was coming, and I gradually realized that I'd likely be spending the night somewhere in downtown Monterrey. I called one of my uncles to let him know that I'd be arriving late. It turns out he was out driving around looking for me. He found me and convinced me to call a tow truck. I finally arrived at his house in the evening. The Buffalo was fixed the next day. It needed a new fuel pump.

I spent my first few days in Monterrey catching up with the many relatives I have there. In addition, my mom had asked me to take care of some matters related to a property she has here. Once I'd gotten the ball rolling on my mom's property I began to explore the areas around Monterrey.

Monterrey is a big city. The city and the surrounding metro area have a population of around four million people. It's Mexico's third largest city. In terms of GDP per capita it's also the wealthiest city in the western hemisphere south of the US. Anyone who's visited other parts of Mexico will notice the difference in wealth. It wasn't always this way. The big change seems to have come with NAFTA. The city's reputation as an industrial center and it's proximity to the US border placed it in a good position to take advantage of the trade liberalization introduced by NAFTA.

One of Monterrey's nicknames is "La Ciudad de las Montañas" (The City of the Mountains). It's an apt description. The Sierra Madre range rises like a wall south of the city, just a few miles from downtown. To the east rises Cerro de la Silla (Saddleback Mountain), an oddly shaped mountain that is a symbol of Monterrey as well as the state of Nuevo Leon. Another mountain, with great craters on its side (a result of blasts used to dislodge limestone for cement production) rises to the west. I was born here. Growing up on the gulf coast of Texas meant that the mountains of Monterrey were the first mountains I'd even known.

I've traveled many times to Monterrey, most often while growing up in Texas City. During previous trips I'd mostly visited family. Although we often took excursions to the surrounding countryside, we'd always visited easy to reach places that were frequented by locals. This visit was my first opportunity to check out some of the more remote spots that don't see many visitors.

My visits only deepened my admiration for the place of my birth. As with Las Vegas, I found a variety of opportunities for the outdoor enthusiast, in some cases just a ten or fifteen minute drive from downtown.

The closest is the Sierra Madre Oriental. This range stretches from its northern terminus at Monterrey southward for 2000 miles. It's a natural wall which limits the city's southward expansion. I visited this range several times during my stay, including once when Al Nagao (a buddy from Oregon) flew down for a few days. Scrambling along the jagged ridge line you see the metropolis of Monterrey to one side and the wilds of the Cumbres de Monterrey (Mexico's second largest national park) on the other side. The terrain in and around the park offers all kinds of hiking, backpacking, and climbing opportunities. It's a vast area that (speaking from personal experience) is easy to get lost in. Water can be a problem. Monterrey itself is arid and desert-like. The rock, however, is porous limestone, and contains underground water. I came across a couple of springs while exploring the Sierra Madre, and also found a few isolated pools and cisterns. The limestone and underground water produces some spectacular caverns, the most famous of which are Grutas de Garcia, just a dozen miles or so outside of the city. During my explorations I found a few caves and abandoned mines. The rough roads within the Cumbres are best explored on a mountain bike. I managed to get the Buffalo stuck on one occasion and had to call on a farm tractor to pull me out.

There are some large rock walls within the Cumbres, which are climbed using big wall techniques. Someone had just finished a new route in the Cumbres when I was there. It had taken four days to complete and required the use of a portaledge. The best technical rock, however, was in El Potrero Chico. This place is just outside of the small town of Hidalgo, about 15 miles northwest of Monterrey. I climbed there with Al for a couple of days. El Potrero is arguably the most well known technical rock climbing area in Mexico. The reasons are obvious once you visit. It's a two hour drive from the US border, or a 30 minute drive from Monterrey's airport. A paved road takes you, in some cases literally, to the bottom of several routes. Many more routes can be found within a two minute walk from the car. There's a pool right next to the road where you can refresh yourself after a day of climbing. Plenty of free camping can be had just off the road, and the quaint town of Hidalgo is just a mile or two away. If you want to do some wilderness climbing there are plenty of opportunities further inside El Potrero.

The routes were typically sport routes. Closely spaced, modern bolts that are in good condition encourage you to push your leading skills on harder routes. When I asked a woman from Colorado what kind of rack I needed she said simply "20 quickdraws." Some of the lines are huge. I found a 6000 ft long, 50 pitch 5.9 in the guide book. It's no wonder El Potrero is sometimes referred to as the "Yosimite of Mexico." The routes tended to be juggy, with lots of natural buckets of varying sizes. I'm guessing you can climb here during most of the year due to the dry climate and relatively warm temperatures. Summers would probably be the least desirable season owing to the furnace-like desert temperatures, but even then you could probably find routes that are in the shade.

Further away from Monterrey, but still within an hour's drive there's a lake, a large accessible spring you can bathe in, and (at higher elevations) forested regions where many Monterreyans have weekend cabins to escape the heat.

Besides Monterrey I also took a short side trip (via airplane and bus) to Mexico City to visit family. I'd never been to Mexico City, but many people had warned me about traveling there. The picture they painted was a densely packed, crime infested and polluted place that no-one likes. Happily, that picture was a bit exaggerated. Certainly, there are a lot of people there, and traffic can be awful, but there are also a lot of parks and greenery spread throughout the city. What I liked most about Mexico City was the climate. The city center is 7300 ft above sea level. This results in a cool, relatively wet climate, very different from Monterrey's more extreme desert environment. There were often thunderstorms in the afternoon. Trees grow easily in such a climate, making it a naturally green city.

Mexico City has a lot of history. Originally founded by the Aztecs as Tenochitlan, the capital of their empire, the city became known as Mexico once the Spaniards defeated the Aztecs. It served as a colonial capital until Mexico's independence in the early 1800s, and Mexico's capital thereafter. Today it's the world's second largest city. While visiting the city's central square (called the Zocalo) I found some interesting contrasts. Ancient Aztec ruins were sandwiched between the colonial era Presidential Palace and modern glass office towers. Shaman performed ceremonies to ward off evil spirits just outside the city cathedral. Tens of thousands of protesters swarmed into the square to protest against a wide variety of policies (notably, recently proposed reforms of the state owned oil company) in return for a free bus trip, lunch, and a few pesos. It was an odd mix of sights, and a reminder of Mexico's blend of indigenous and Spanish culture. Owing to time constraints I didn't get to explore the outdoor recreation opportunities near Mexico City, but I know that there are a couple of 18,000+ ft volcanoes nearby.

Accompanied by a cousin, I returned to Monterrey via overnight bus with stomach problems. My stomach problems lasted for a week. I've recovered now, it's getting hot here, and my business is finished, so I'm thinking it's time to start the return trip back to Oregon. On the way back I'm going to stop in Denver to visit some friends. Ann will be there as well with her family over the Memorial Day weekend. I'll likely pay a visit to Rocky Mountain National Park. Other than that my stops will depend on what other interesting places I encounter along the way.

Photos from Monterrey and Mexico City are here.

Not Building A Bakery (Yet), On The Road Again

2008-04-06T09:16:00.000-07:00

It's been about six weeks since I arrived in Texas City. My stay was a bit longer than I had anticipated. Much of my stay was focused on my sister's bakery. The plan was to convert my sister's garage into a cake and cookie bakery. During the first half of my stay I was getting up every day, going to work at my sister's place, and returning to my mom's at the day's end. The first big task was to build a shed and move the stuff in the garage into it. Next big task was gutting the garage interior. Work progressed faster than I had thought it would.

Once the garage was gutted we were ready to start on the utilities work. The electrical system for the house needed an upgrade so it could handle the additional power requirements of the bakery. It was then that we got some bad news. The city's electrical inspector would not issue a permit for the work that was needed. My sister had spoken to the government officials some time back about the project. The person she had talked to, who was in the health department (and is now retired), had given a verbal okay for the project. Turns out he shouldn't have given the approval. The electrical inspector wouldn't permit the work on the grounds of zoning laws. After a brief meeting with the city officials they gave us a unanimous "no."

We moved from denial to acceptance in record time, then began looking for commercial properties which would be in compliance with the zoning laws. We found an ideal building that's pretty much ready to go. All we'd have to do is move in the capital equipment. The seller also seems to be eager to get rid of the property. A financial analysis, however, showed that the operating costs would be significantly higher at the commercial property than they would have been had we kept to the original plan. At current sales volumes we'd have a difficult time covering the operating costs. So, our focus moved towards increasing sales through marketing. The marketing effort seems to be paying off, but it's clear that it will take greater sales (about 50% more) to hit the point where the business will be self sustaining at the commercial location. For now, the bakery continues to operate out of my sister's kitchen, and the commercial property remains available.

If nothing else, the bakery project has been a good learning experience. No doubt we would do some things differently if we were starting the project all over again. Like riding a bike, it seems you have to fall a few times before you figure it out. The injuries could have been worse, as we hadn't taken deliveries on the construction materials or the capital equipment and we were able to cancel the orders. Hopefully I'll be returning soon to acquire the commercial property. My sister is certainly determined. Stubbornness seems to run in the family. I think given our financial resources we've made a good marketing effort (more learnings there also), but it will take some time to see if the sales consistently come in.

Other than the bakery, I've spent time with Ann (she dropped in for a long weekend shortly after my arrival), my sister's kids and some old high school friends. Towards the end of March TO, one of my old high school buddies, came down from Colorado for a long weekend. I hooked up with him and Elmo at a beach house for one night. It felt like the past 20 years had suddenly been erased. The reunion reminded me of why it's probably best both for ourselves and the local population that we remain separated by a few thousand miles. I don't know what aspects of our individual personalities causes it, but when the three of us get together it's typically lead to trouble. Even now our parents tell us to "Be careful" when they know we're going to be together. Thankfully, it was only one night. Had it been a whole week the Buffalo would now be a diving wreck in the Gulf of Mexico, a nice house would be ruined, and a boat that belongs to none of us would never have been seen again.

Towards the end of my stay I entered some photos from my trip in a local art festival. A photo from the North Cascades won first prize, so I stayed a little longer than I'd been planning in order to attend opening night of the festival (and collect the prize money). The festival's still going on, but I've been living the civilized life for too long. The Buffalo beckons. Time to saddle up again and continue El Viaje. I'll be heading back into Mexico. I'm planning on visiting relatives in Monterrey and Mexico City, and hope to get some backpacking and climbing in as well.

I'll miss my family and friends in Texas City. I've spent more time with my mom than I have since my summer vacations during my college days. I've always admired my mom's attitude towards life, and that admiration only grew during my stay. I've slowly realized over the years how much of that attitude has been transferred to me.

The photo at the top is from a bike ride I went on with my niece and nephew. During our ride we encountered the trail hazard seen in the bottom left of the photo. I was tempted to bunny hop it, but poked it with a stick instead. We beat a rapid retreat when it snarled at us.

Big Bend & Building A Bakery

2008-03-07T07:33:00.000-08:00

Thought I'd update everyone on El Viaje.

Since returning to the US I've spent time in Big Bend National Park, driven across Texas, and done a lot of work on my sister's bakery in Texas City. Somewhere during this time frame Ann paid me a visit.

Big Bend is located in west Texas. The southern boundary of the park is the Rio Grande, which forms the border between Texas and Mexico. Anyone who's ever visited west Texas knows that there isn't much out there. Tiny towns are separated by great distances set in a vast landscape of mountains, hills, and desert. Big Bend is a large, remote park. True to its name (and the tendency of Texans to "call it what it is"), the park is set along a spot where the Rio Grande takes a big turn from south to north as it heads towards the Gulf of Mexico. Centered in the park is the Chisos Mountain range. Surrounding the central range is an arid, lower elevation stretch of the Chihuahuan desert.

I started my visit with a five day backpacking trip which took me through and around the Chisos. On my first day out I met John and Ray. They were a couple of Canadians who were on a seven week tour of the southeastern US. Big Bend was the westernmost point of their trip. I've always liked Canadians. Relative to most Americans they're more laid back and easy going. Ray and John proved to be no exception. Ray and John were partners in a window washing business located in Toronto. They were living out of a two door Honda Civic. Their Civic carried a ladder tied to a roof rack which had been drilled directly into the sheet metal. Turns out they'd been funding their trip by washing windows along the way. I learned quite a bit about the window washing business from them and admired their unique and ingenious approach to funding their vacation.

As it turned out that we were doing roughly the same route. We often hiked together, sharing food, water, and camp on a couple of occasions. Ray was an expert window washer. He was capable of simultaneously washing windows with both hands and had come close to the world record time for washing a standard sized window pane. I learned a lot about how to properly and quickly wash a window from him. If ever there was such a thing as professional window washer, Ray was it. John had a business degree and knew a lot about marketing. His advice will be very useful for the start-up of my sister's business.

We summitted Emory Peak, the highest point in the park, on the first day. While I was taking my typical "Slow and Fat" approach to backpacking, Ray and John were on the "Slow and Thin" program. Ray was hauling a type of small backpack more often used for hauling books on college campuses than for multi day treks in the desert. He was wearing heavy steel toed boots which he normally wore while washing high rise windows. John was carrying a slightly larger day pack. They were hauling almost no food, no stove, no shelter, thin Coleman sleeping bags, and what turned out to be an inadequate amount of water. They had an abundance of enthusiasm, however. Neither of them had ever been to the desert or even undertaken a real backpacking trip. They were in a constant state of wonder and awe as we trekked along the route. I taught them what I'd learned about desert backpacking, provided them with hot food, and gave them some of my water when they ran out. Near the end of our trek I invited them to join me for a float down the Rio Grande in the Sea Hawk. They readily and gratefully accepted my invitation. After some car shuttling we set out for a two day trip which started at the western end of the park.

The Sea Hawk was billed as a four person watercraft. With three guys and overnight gear it was a tight fit, but we all managed to squeeze in. The Rio Grande is a dirty river. The muck in some parts smelled like sewage, no doubt due to livestock and the fact that one of its banks was a third world country. It's also very shallow in parts, requiring on multiple occasions that we exit the Sea Hawk and pull it along as we waded through the shallows. During our trip I saw a dog, a cow, and two women cross the river. All of them were heading from Mexico to the US. The day our trip ended I saw a minivan with Mexican plates drive across the river from the US to Mexico. I was surprised at how permeable the border was. While in Mexico I was asked on a couple of occasions if I'd be willing to take carry my inquisitor across the border to the US. At the time I thought it was a ridiculous request given my previous experiences with international border crossings. My most recent border crossing experience had only reinforced this view. (The van was searched for 20 minutes by five border patrol officers and a dog when I crossed from Mexico into the US.) After spending two days on a remote section of the border, however, my view changed substantially. It'd be pretty easy to get just about anything through this part of the border, especially if you're on foot and have some desert backpacking experience.

We spent our one night out on a beach on the Mexican bank. We joked that the Mexican border patrol would pick us up an deport us. In my case it would have been a short journey, just 30 feet to the opposite bank. In the case of Ray and John it would have been a good way to save money on their return trip, which they were planning on undertaking immediately after the river float.

What the river lacked in water quality it more than made up for in scenery. The Santa Elena Canyon was especially spectacular. I had not realized that such canyons existed along this river. The Santa Elena is a narrow slot canyon with shear sides rising over a thousand feet. In some places boulders the size of office buildings had fallen into the river. Some portions held deep water. John and I took turns scaling the walls along one deep water section. The canyon also held the most challenging rapids of the float. They were class three rapids. Not very high given the one to six scale used for rating rapids, but with our craft and incompetence we managed to come within a hair's breadth of emptying the Sea Hawk of it's contents.

Our float ended soon after exiting the canyon, somewhat later in the day than we had expected. After a hasty goodbye, exchange of contact information, and expression of desire to meet in Houston in December, John and Ray immediately began their return journey to Canada. I enjoyed their company and their excellent stories (best left unrecorded) and hope to see them again some time in the future.

After some solo hiking in the park I began winding my way eastward along back roads towards the Gulf Coast. It seemed to get hotter the further east I went, so I stopped for a haircut in a border town. I'd planned on just a trimming, but when the barber attempted to run his comb through my matted hair I remembered that I hadn't bathed in quite a while. Unwilling to tolerate the thick hair I somewhat reluctantly told him to cut it with clippers all the way around.

Further on the Water Buffalo's engine suddenly died while pulling away from a stoplight just as I'd answered a phone call. The fellow behind me helped me push it across the intersection to a safe spot. After checking a few things I witnessed a car accident at the same intersection. The driver of one of the cars pulled up next to me and, without getting out of her car, asked me how badly her car was damaged. I told her that the right front wheel was at an odd angle and sheet metal was rubbing on the tire. After suggesting that she find a place to park and wait for the police she made a remark about "not having any other vehicle to drive" then took off down the street. After the police took my statement I tried starting the van. It seemed to be running as well as it ever had. It was an odd sequence of events, as if the engine had died just so I could witness the car accident, and the whole sequence had been triggered by a phone call. I shrugged my shoulders and after a night's rest kept driving.

After stopping to enjoy the surf at a beach, I reached my sister's house in Texas City in the early evening. The next morning the van died and refused to restart. True to it's beast of burden nature, the Buffalo had carried me to my destination, but once it had arrived, it stubbornly refused to do any more work. A $30 voltage regulator cajoled it into running long enough to discover that it was overheating again. Another $30 to replace the fitting that was repaired in Mexico fixed the overheating. Since then I've changed the oil, given it a good wash (free with the oil change), and driven it minimally. I figure it's earned a good rest, and it's still got a lot of work left to do.

Within a week of my arrival Ann flew in for a long weekend. We hung out with friends and family, and visited the local attractions. I even put her to work on the bakery construction. It was great to see her and my friends and family enjoyed meeting her. My sister's pets especially enjoyed her visit.

Other than the few days Ann was here I've been working every day since my arrival on the bakery business. The plan is to convert my sister's garage into a cake and cookie bakery with all the necessary permits. So far we've added drainage on the exterior (the garage had been flooding when it rained), built a shed, moved everything out of the garage, and gutted the garage's interior back to the frame. I'm ordering the construction materials today. The work has gone a bit quicker than I thought it would. Many friends and family have helped (my sister's racking up the free cakes) and even more have offered to help (don't worry, I won't forget to call you). I've also learned a lot about demolition and construction. I'm happy to report that the "safety third" philosophy has been successfully deployed in a new environment. I'm hoping to have it all finished by the end of March. Once we have the permits we'll be doing some marketing for the business. (Gotta put that new capital to use!) After the start-up is complete I'll be heading back to Mexico to visit family. I expect to leave for Monterrey some time in April.

That's it for now. Hope all is well back in Oregon. Photo links are here.

Baja, Chihuahua, Victorio Statue, El Magnifico Misses An Opportunity

2008-02-13T09:07:00.000-08:00

Since my last entry the Water Buffalo was cured of it's ills and I crossed over into Mexico.

The Buffalo was diagnosed with a fuel starvation problem caused by a bad ECU (the main engine control computer). The ECU would occasionally stop sending a signal to the fuel injectors, resulting in the cutting out which I was experiencing. The cure was replacement of the ECU. Apparently this is a common problem on these engines. The shop had a collection of these ECUs, all of them labeled with "cuts out or "stops running." Fortunately there's a shop in Los Angeles which refurbishes these units. Unfortunately, the part cost almost $1000. So far the problem hasn't recurred.

After stopping to acquire Mexican auto insurance and exchange dollars for pesos I crossed into Tijuana. Crossing the border wasn't what I had expected to be. I didn't have to stop or speak with anyone. I hardly even slowed down. I wondered if I somehow managed to slip through some place where I should have stopped. It seemed odd that the Mexican government wouldn't at least want to know who's entered the country, or have a chance to inspect incoming vehicles for contraband. I later discovered that I was supposed to have stopped and picked up a tourist visa. After paying a fine I later obtained a visa and a temporary vehicle import permit in La Paz.

After crossing I headed south on the main highway that runs along the length of the Baja peninsula. For the first 50 miles or so the highway is basically an interstate. After that however, it turns into a shoulder-less two lane road, filled with cars, 18 wheelers, buses, and RVs from north of the border (especially, it seemed, Canada). Driving on the road brought back pleasant memories of traveling to Mexico with my parents and siblings. Before my father died we travelled regularly to Mexico in an old van along a very similar highway. Us kids would play games and sleep on the floor while my parents took turns driving. It was a bit of shock to suddenly realize that, many years later, I once again was on a narrow Mexican road in an old van which I slept in. I had always looked forward to those childhood trips because I knew that at the end there were a bunch of cousins (there were twelve children on my mother's side) to play with.

More pleasant childhood memories came rushing back when I took a dip into the Pacific Ocean on a deserted stretch of beach I'd found. When I was a kid growing up in Texas my parents often took us to the nearby beach. I always enjoyed playing in the sand, but even more I enjoyed getting tossed around by the surf. I remember being very disappointed when I moved to Oregon and discovered that the ocean water was too cold to wade in. I ended up spending the night on the beach. Early the next morning five men showed up in a beat up truck and began picking up stones from the beach. After getting dressed I asked one fellow what they did with the stones. He said they sold them in a nearby town, from which they were shipped to Tijuana, where they were sold for use in the construction business. Picking up rocks seems like a pretty thin living, but I suppose they weren't in a position to pick and choose how they made their living.

On my way down the peninsula I took a detour to visit San Pedro Martir National Park. This park has the highest peak on the peninsula. The peak's name is El Pichado del Diablo (The Devil's Peak). I think it's a bit over 10,000 ft in height. I went on a three day backpacking trip, intending to summit the peak. I was surprised to find snow, water ice, forests with tall stands of cedar, and outcroppings of grey granite. The scenery bore an uncanny resemblence to parts of southern Idaho I'd visited earlier in my travels. I wasn't certain at the time, but I don't think I managed to summit El Diablo. After backtracking multiple times and trying various routes I managed to get to the top of a peak which looked like it could be the highest peak in the area. There was a pen at the top but no register. From the top I could see the Bay of California to the east and the Pacific Ocean to the west. I gradually came to the realization that I didn't know where I was, wished I had the Nav Unit with me, and backtracked all the way back to the Buffalo. On the way back I saw a sign for an astronomical observatory. I figured it was worth a visit. After parking at a locked gate I hiked up to a building which housed a large optical telescope. It was from there that I finally saw El Diablo. It definitely was not the peak I had gone up. It was an impressive looking peak, reminiscent of some of the peaks I saw in the Idaho Sawtooths. I briefly considered making another attempt, but I couldn't identify a route from that vantage point, so I figured I'd most likely get lost again. I headed back towards the highway.

Continuing south, the highway cut inland into a vast desert filled with cacti. I spent a couple of days in the desert practicing animal trapping (didn't catch anything) before continuing on. After the inland desert the road briefly followed the Pacific coast. On a dirt road off the highway I found a hidden lagoon with a few fishing boats, a shack, and two trucks. I intended to stay for a couple of days and explore a bit, but I soon got myself stuck in the sand. How uncharacteristic of a water buffalo to be stuck in the mire, I thought. Seeing my predicament, a man drove out from the shack and spent the better part of his afternoon helping to get me out. His name was Narcisso. He was an older fellow, so I took to calling him "Don Narcisso" ("Don" being a title of respect). Afterwards he invited me to his shack for coffee. His shack was about the size of my van and was made out of old pieces of plywood, tin sheets, and pieces of plastic. I hung out with him for a couple of days, sharing coffee, chatting about various topics, and exchanging stories from our lives. He had been a fisherman for forty years, but couldn't work anymore because his knees had given out. He said making a living as a fisherman had become very difficult anyway. Too many fishermen and not enough fish, he explained. He now spent five days a week living in the shack to watch over the fishing boats while their owners were home for the evening. He never asked me for anything despite the trouble I'd put him through and refused to accept anything from me when I offered.

Soon after the lagoon the highway headed east, eventually reaching the eastern coast of the peninsula. A bit before reaching the east coast the highway passed near the town of San Ignacio. I stopped there to check out a campground which a Canadian fellow who I'd earlier met had recommended. He said he would be there. I've taken to avoiding places which require paying for a spot to spend the night (a practice which I learned is known as "boondocking" amongst the RV crowd), but it sounded like a good deal and an idyllic setting. It was indeed an idyllic setting. San Ignacio is a literal oasis in the desert. A desert spring had been dammed up, creating a small lake surrounded by reeds and palm trees. The campground was right on the lake. The Canadian fellow was there as promised. The campground was owned by a different ex-pat Canadian. It wasn't quite as good a deal as I'd been lead to believe, but considering what was included (use of a kayak, showers, WiFi, an excellent breakfast, and a real bed) it was pretty good living for the money.

The next day I reached the town of Santa Rosalia and for the first time saw the Bay of California (also called the Sea of Cortez) up close. Santa Rosalia wasn't much to my liking (it's an old industrial town), so I continued on. Later I would return to Santa Rosalia to take the ferry across the bay. The highway stays near the east coast for a good stretch. I spent a couple of days on some empty beaches between Mulege and Loreto before continuing on towards Loreto.
Near Loreto I met a Czech fellow (now living in Denver) named George. I ended up parking the Buffalo next to him and his wife's camp site. They were living out of their van, like I was. The day before I met George his wife had caught their van on fire. It actually looked pretty bad. A rear interior quarter panel had turned into a molten pile of plastic and she had suffered burns on her hands. Luckily she'd managed to put out the fire before the whole van was engulfed. Some of the wiring had been burned through, resulting in various electrical problems. I spent a morning playing electrical engineer and repaired the electrical system. They really appreciated this and often invited me over for dinner during the remainder of my stay there. George and I also went on a hike up a canyon together.

Later I went on a backpacking trip up into the same canyon I'd day hiked with George. I really enjoyed the canyon. It contained a series of minature oases formed by pools in the rock. There were occasional water falls and places where the water had worn a natural water slide into the rock. I dropped down some of the water slides into the pools. One night I had my first bivy of the entire trip. I managed to get lost and was unable to find my way to camp before it got dark. All I had were shorts, a t-shirt, and a fleece, all of which were mostly wet. My night out reminded of one of the definitions of a bivy: A place where you lie down and shiver for the night. It wasn't the most pleasant night of my life, but I managed to get by.

The place where I purposely spent the night was much nicer. I'd found the perfect spot under a garage sized boulder. The ground here was fine sand. It conformed very nicely to my body. Since it was under a monolith of rock it was dry. Further into the little cave under the boulder there was a perfect spot for a fire. Moving away from the cave but still under the boulder (thus affording protection from the rain) was a bunch of dried plant matter which I used as fuel for the fire. I slept between the fire and the fuel. No need for a bivy sack here. Even the sleeping bag seemed superfluous. When the fire got low all I had to do was move the fuel from one side of my body to the other. I found a few plants nearby that were edible. Some of them were actually pretty tasty.

On the hike back to the van I ran into some construction workers. They looked rather menacing at first. One of them had two tools that looked like ice picks in his hands. He initiated a conversation with me, asking me for a cigarette. Later another five or six crossed to my side of the street, one of them with a machete in his hand. We started chatting. They asked me all kinds of questions, mostly about what I'd been doing. I suggested that we stage a photo, with them holding the machete and picks in a threatening fashion. I would then send the photo and an email to friends and family, claiming that I'd been kidnapped. If anyone sent ransom money I'd split it with them. They all had a good laugh from it. I would have taken the photo if my camera hadn't run out of batteries. When I left I promised to return on the next working day to show them some of the photos. I did return, but I forgot to take a ransom photo. I think they enjoyed my visits. At least, it was a good excuse to stop working. Not that they needed an excuse. Even by their own account, they weren't actually doing much in the way of work.

After visiting the construction workers I continued south. I stopped in La Paz (where I fixed my permit situation), Cabo San Lucas (at the very southern tip of the Baja peninsula), and Todos Santos. Of these three I spent the most time in Todos Santos. This was a charming town on the Pacific side. It was a surfing hot spot. I mountain biked, hiked, and got into the water again. From Todos Santos I headed back north to Loreto. I had bought a dingy from the Czech fellow. I called it the "Sea Hawk" since that's what was printed on it. I rowed it out to an island, taking snorkeling gear along with a homemade spear. The water was very clear, and there were a lot of sea critters to see. It was like swimming in a giant tide pool. Despite all the creatures I didn't manage to spear anything. I had wanted to paddle further out and spend more nights on another island, but the on day I had set for this the wind had picked up and the sea got pretty rough. As it was, I'd had problems with the Sea Hawk's oars. They kept coming apart, usually at inopportune moments. It seemed like a bad idea to head out in such seas with the craft I had, so I packed up and headed north, returning to Santa Rosalia.

I planned on taking the ferry to the mainland (specifically, to the city of Guaymas) from there. The ferry was docked when I arrived. It's departure was delayed by two days due to rough seas. The ferry ride lasted about 13 hours, the first half in rough seas. The ferry was an old Norwegian vessel, originally designed for short river trips. Like many things in Mexico, it was being used for a purpose that it had not been intended for.

From the port of Guaymas I headed inland to the city of Hermosillo, then east across the state of Sonora, towards the city of Chihuahua. On my way to Chihuahua I planned on stopping for a few days in Copper Canyon, a national park. I had always thought that this part of Mexico was all desert. Guaymas and Hermosillo certainly were, but as I headed east the road gained elevation, eventually reaching the highlands of central Mexico. The desert gave way to pine forests, rivers, and waterfalls. There were patches of snow and ice on the roads. Before reaching Copper Canyon the Buffalo began overheating. I found two leaks in the cooling system. A local mechanic, who everyone referred to as "El Maestro" (the master), managed to fix the leaks using plastic cement and silicone. He charged me the equivalent of nine dollars (plus a few beers we split after he was done) and had me on my way the same day. An American mechanic would have wanted to replace the parts and would have charged me at least $100. I admired this fellow's resourcefulness. The last thing he was going to do was replace a part, which given my remote location would have taken many days to obtain. Even if the repair later fails it at least allowed me to reach a major city where parts are easier to come by.

With the leaks fixed, I continued on to Copper Canyon. The park is located in the highlands, and is actually a series of interconnected canyons, with many waterfalls, fast running rivers, and a few lakes and hot springs. It's a popular park. I hadn't seen any non-Mexicans since leaving the ferry four days earlier, but they were present in the park in spades. I explored the area on mountain bike, sometimes leaving the bike to hike through the rougher bits. Many Tarahumara indians live in the area. I often came across them and their remote habitations during my explorations. Some of them live in caves and rock overhangs that have been walled off. The Wikipedia article on the Tarahumara is pretty interesting. They are known for their ability to run extremely long distances. They practice a form of hunting which involves running after game until the animal becomes too exhausted to stay ahead of the hunter.
I would have liked to take a backpacking trip in Copper Canyon, but I wanted to be back in the US by mid February, which only allowed for a few days in the park. The canyons aren't as impressive as the Grand Canyon, but it's a pretty park nonetheless, and the Tarahumara added a unique aspect to the visit. Somehow I managed to miss seeing the 800 ft waterfall, the tallest in Mexico.

After Copper Canyon I headed for Chihuahua, a large city almost due south of El Paso, Texas. It was here that I found a statue of my namesake, apparently an Apache hero from the past who only had a first name. I also found a poster announcing a Mexican wrestling match, which is the photo at the top of this entry. I'd been looking for these throughout my stay in Mexico, hoping that I could find an event that offered an amateur night where El Magnifico could make his wrestling debut. Unfortunately the event announced in the poster had already been held. I'll have more chances when I return to Mexico in the spring. From Chihuahua it was a few hour's drive to the border crossing. I crossed the Rio Grande into Texas at Presidio, just west of Big Bend National Park, which is my next destination. I'm planning on spending a week or two in the park. I'd like to do some backpacking and might also pull out the Sea Hawk and float it down the Rio Grande.

Baja photos are here. Photos from Chihuahua and Copper Canyon are here. There's also a set of photos of vultures striking various poses here.

Hanging Out With The Boys

2008-01-06T15:18:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm still recovering from the visitations of The Boys From Oregon. I hung out with Matt near Phoenix for a day. After that I drove to Palm Springs, California to pick up Al and Chris at the airport. We went off to Joshua Tree National Park for five days. While I was in the neighborhood I also visited Alex Nieto, an engineer who used to work for me back at HP.

I met Matt at his parent's house early on a Sunday evening. Matt was there with his wife Jasmine and their girl Avery. They were visiting Matt's parents over the holidays. Matt's sister, her husband Luis, and their boys were also there. The one night I spent there was pretty luxurious living. I floated around in a heated swimming pool, often sipping a glass of wine and consuming a variety of hour d'earves. Between stretches of catching up with Matt I played with the kids in the pool. Matt's mom and dad came by every now and then to top off our glasses and plates. Later in the evening I told stories from my trip.

The next day Matt, Luis, and I did a long day hike to the summit of Superstition Mountain. We started out in a wash, eventually heading up a canyon through a forest of Saguaro cactus. The trail was rough and steep but we eventually reached a high valley. From there we traversed, reaching a ridge. The ridge lead to a patch of rock pinnacles which marked the summit. The valley actually contained patches of ice and some standing water. Matt had hauled up a rope, so we decided to attempt one of the pinnacles. Matt lead up a short but highly exposed pinnacle. I followed in sandals while Luis took our photos. It was a sunny, bright day, apparently typical of Phoenix this time of year. All too soon we had to start down.

Throughout our hike, Matt, Luis, and I had discussed all the ways in which the various pointy plants could hurt us. I think the one we feared the most was a broad leaf yucca. These things remind me of a sea urchin, but on a larger scale. They were armed with large, blade-like leafs that came to a needle sharp point. We decided that falling on these leaves would be like falling on the end of a very sharp broadsword. It wouldn't be good. Luckily, we mostly avoided falling on the nasties. Near the end of the hike, however, Matt somehow fell on virtually flat ground, opening a massive gash on his hand in the process. Shortly after that we ran into a tarantula. We were back to the van by mid afternoon. I dropped off Matt and Luis, said goodbye to everyone, and headed for Palm Springs to pick up Chris and Al at the airport.

Things actually went very well. I picked up the boys and then headed for J-Tree. By midnight, on the first day of the new year, we had just crossed the park boundary. We found a place to park, fell asleep, woke up the next morning, then headed into the nearby town for breakfast. We had huevos rancheros cooked by a Cambodian lady and got pretty much what you would have expected. At least she also loaded us up with some New Year's Day "lucky beans." They were actually pretty good. Reminded me of tapioca. Since we'd just had our lucky beans we felt ready to try some of J-Tree's famous rock crags. Mostly we top roped on this first day. Despite not having rock climbed in quite a while, Chris pulled off some impressive moves on a higher grade route. After burning out our arms on the rock we found another campsite in the park and settled down for our second night.

Soon after parking the van the boys pulled out multiple slabs of high grade beef cuts from their luggage and proceeded to cook them. The boys thought this would be a surprise for me, but it was in fact all too predictable. Truth is, when you're with Chris and Al, eating well is an expectation. Really, its even more than an expectation. Its a state of existence. If you are ever for one moment not eating well, or don't feel like you're full, something has gone very wrong. The most likely explanation is that you are no longer with Chris and Al.

It was with this in mind that I had taken on the task of outfitting the crew for a three day, two night excursion into the desert. The only way this was going to happen was if we went "slow and fat." This means hauling lots of food and plenty of fuel. We made final preparations the morning after our steak-fest night. I took it as a positive sign when Chris suggested that there was no need for me to pack in the one liter bottle of El Tapatio hot sauce. A park ranger had really spooked the crew about water. She stated very authoritatively that there was no water on our route and that we would have to haul all of our water in. She also suggested that we do a day hike instead. We kept to our plan, but we went really heavy on the water. I think I hauled in about two gallons.

The plan called for us to hike to the top of Quail Peak, the highest point in the park. We started by hiking along a sandy plain through a forest of Joshua Trees. Chris quickly became the navigator, earning the nickname "Nav Unit." After a few miles on the plain, the Nav Unit directed us into a gradually steepening canyon. This canyon turned out to be full of water, both standing and running. It even contained ice, along with plants which are typically found in bogs. We joked that we should worry more about drowning and over-hydration than dying of thirst. Our first camp was set up in this canyon. Smoked oysters and water crackers were served as appetizers. The main course was tuna and couscous cooked in oyster sauce. The boys seemed pleased, so I called it a success. In celebration, I was christened the self propelled FMU (Food Management Unit).

After breakfast the next morning we started for the summit and reached it around noon. It was overcast but we still had a nice view of most of the park along with the surrounding peaks. We decided to further test our Nav Unit by hiking cross-country (no trail) to a mine shaft located on the map. After spending most of the day traversing we arrived at the mine. It looked pretty old, like early 1800s technology. Timbers framed the entrance. Another timber attached to an iron crank was presumably used to winch material up the shaft. This was the Lang mine, named after it's owner, Johnny Lang. After we finished inspecting the mine the Nav Unit took us down a canyon to the site of Lang's cabin. Little remained of the cabin. We camped near the site for the night. The second night's dinner was rotini and salmon garnished with fresh mozzarella cheese. I added tobasco sauce to give it a little kick. Another good meal, if I do say so myself.

The next day we woke up and continued hiking cross country, arriving back at the van in the morning. After resting a bit we attacked the rock crag next to the parking lot. Chris and I got a lot of good trad leading in. Chris again flaunted his climbing skills by making a 5.10 route look like something he could have lead. Having wasted ourselves climbing again, we headed into town for dinner. After another great meal we found a patch of desert at the outskirts of town where we spent the night. We were glad we had finished our wilderness trek earlier that day. A storm with strong winds and rain moved in that night.

On our final morning together we had another fine breakfast and then researched Johnny Lang. Turns out he was something of a troublemaker. I found a good story on him at this site. Amongst other things, Lang skimmed from his mining partners and made a habit out of killing and eating other people's animals. He also opened the first saloon in the nearby town of 29 Palms. We decided to hike in to another mine in which he had been a partner. This was the Lost Horse Mine. The weather was still nasty at the time but it was an easy hike. No doubt, the Lost Horse Mine was a bigger operation than the Lang Mine. It had machinery and a well developed water delivery system. It was during Lang's tenure as the night shift supervisor at this mine that he skimmed away some of the gold amalgam. Years later, Lang was found dead near this mine. His grave site was nearby. He'd left a note at his cabin which stated that he'd "Gone for grub." He must have been hungry as he had earlier eaten his burros. The coroner declared that he'd died of natural causes. He was in his seventies. Rumors are his fortune still lies buried out in the desert somewhere.

A couple of hours after our last hike I dropped off Chris and Al at the airport. On the way to the airport the boys christened the van the "Water Buffalo." This was in honor of Lao Tzu, an ancient Chinese philosopher and founder of Taoism. He was last seen a few thousand years ago, heading west into Tibet on top of a water buffalo. Hence the name.

Anyhow, the Water Buffalo had been acting up lately, as water buffalos often do. For a while it looked like it wasn't going to leave the airport passenger drop-off area. I decided to head to San Diego to find a good mechanic to look at it. It was the same intermittent cutting out problem it's always had, but the problem had occurred much more often during and after the J-Tree visit. I was hopeful that it could be remedied for good. As I neared San Diego I started wishing that I had the number for a tow truck. The problem got worse, to the point where it was continuously cutting out. I was doing 25 MPH on the shoulder of a twelve lane freeway at night in the middle of a rain storm, with the Buffalo backfiring regularly. It was sick for sure. I turned the hazard lights on and hoped no one would rear end me. I constantly worked the clutch and gas, coaxing the Buffalo to keep moving. I kept whispering to it: "Just a little bit further." I coasted into the shop's parking lot (the engine had died) on a Sunday night.

While I was in the neighborhood I visited with Alex. He'd just returned from his honeymoon. The married life and the new job both seem to be treating him well. We made plans to get together for a climbing trip once I've returned to Oregon.

Right now I'm waiting for the Buffalo to come up in the repair queue. Meanwhile I've been exploring San Diego by foot and tram. This morning I got a citation from the local transit police. I had purchased a two trip ticket, but it turns out its only valid on the day of purchase (which was the day before). As he was writing up the citation the officer asked me what my address was. I told him I'm living in a van. I read the citation after he handed it to me and noticed that under the address section it said "transient."

It was good to see the boys from Oregon. I enjoyed meeting Matt's parents and thank them for their hospitality. The desert trek with Chris and Al was memorable. The most interesting aspect for me was seeing Chris and Al come to the realization that the desert isn't as inhospitable a place as it's generally made out to be. I think Matt has realized this as well. It was a realization I had experienced myself only a few months ago when I first ventured into the desert. For sure, you want to keep your guard up, but all of those trips into the northwest's mountains still count for a lot. The desert has its own brand of beauty to offer and I think we all saw that as well. I really enjoyed the trad climbing too. One of my goals for my year off was to become a better trad climber. The time at J-Tree went a long way towards increasing my confidence leading on trad. Hopefully I'll be able to meet up with the boys again some time before my trip ends.

As soon as the Buffalo's been cured of it's ills and I've stocked up on some supplies I'll be crossing into Mexico. The ice climbing trip to Colorado with Tim is off, but we may still get together in the spring. As a result, I'm unconstrained until mid March. By then I'll need to be back at my sister's place in Texas to help with the bakery start-up. I plan on heading down the Baja peninsula, eventually taking a ferry across the Sea of Cortez to the Mexican mainland. After that I'll likely head east across northwestern Mexico, eventually crossing back in New Mexico or western Texas. I don't know how good my internet and cell phone access will be while I'm south of the border, so folks may not hear much from me over the next couple of months. I'll pass on a more detailed itinerary to Ann as it's developed and as communication opportunities arise. I'm looking forward to spending some time on a beach somewhere. I know I will also enjoy my time with the Mexicans.

Hope everyone had a good new year. I sure did.

Phoenix photos are here and J-Tree photos are here.

Viva Las Vegas! (and Don't Mess With Texas)

2007-12-29T12:03:00.000-08:00

Since last time I've mostly been mountain biking and hiking around Las Vegas. The outdoor recreation opportunities near Las Vegas are surprisingly good. Just west of town, literally a two minute drive past the last suburban neighborhood, there's Red Rocks. This is a sweeping valley bordered to the west and north by colorful 1000 ft+ cliffs. Road riding is poplar on the highway that runs through the valley. There are plenty of hiking and mountain biking opportunities on old horse trails. Then there are the cliffs themselves, which are a popular rock climbing destination. Some of the routes exceed 20 pitches and require use of big wall techniques (eg sleeping in a portaledge hung on a vertical cliff). Beyond the cliffs, washes turn into canyons which lead up into a wilderness area. This a great area for wilderness backpacking. A bit further (maybe 15 minutes drive) northwest of town there is a mountain range with 11,000 peaks along it's crest. Old mule trails offer epic level mountain biking in the same area. The peaks themselves offer winter sport opportunities. There's a ski lift for downhill skiing and snowboarding, plus trails for cross country and snowshoeing. I ran into some local climbers who showed me a photo of a three pitch WI5 ice climbing route which is located in the area.

More than anything I mountain biked. I did a couple of all day rides, one of them with local riders I met. I think I actually preferred the biking in Vegas to Moab. The surface seemed to be more uniform. It's made up of packed granules of sandstone, sometimes embedded with boulders. It doesn't beat dry coastal Oregon clay, but it's pretty good. A plus is that it doesn't get ugly when its wet, which Oregon's clay often is. Most of the trails are old mule and horse trails which head out into the desert that surrounds Las Vegas. The abandoned mines along some of the trails reminded me that Nevada was and still is a place where people go looking for fortunes, but often come back with nothing. The trails spanned the range of difficulty. Some were better suited to long travel downhill bikes, but there are plenty of epic level cross-country rides as well.

While waiting for wheel repairs (I had to hike-a-bike for three hours due to mechanical problems) the mechanic told me about Bootleg Canyon, just southeast of the city. I arrived there on an early Sunday afternoon. It was pretty packed, with maybe forty vehicles in the parking lot. Bootleg Canyon is a mountain bike park, in the same vein as Blackrock near Falls City, Oregon. The trails are on either side of a canyon bottom. A road runs up the canyon bottom to the top of a peak. The canyon was used to smuggle spirits to Hoover Dam construction workers during the prohibition era, hence the name. The county owns the land and actually pays someone to maintain the trails. Part of the parking lot is paved. There is a covered picnic area next to the lot, along with flushing toilets, water fountains, vending machines, and even a dumpster for your garbage. On the weekends there's a shuttle that will run you to the top for a small fee. For sure, in terms of facilities, Bootleg is better than Blackrock. The trail surface was similar to the other Las Vegas trails. There's an extensive "stunt park" where you can practice dirt jumping, drops, and gap jumps. The trails were pretty good, but lacked the large stunts and ramps of Blackrock. My favorites were fast, roller-coaster like trails, with the occasional boulder for use as a take-off ramp. I rode here often with a couple of bikers (Louis and Brian) who I met in the parking lot. They were more novice bikers than I am, but Brian in particular got a lot better even during the time I rode with him. Brian turned out to be a pretty good (5.11) rock climber. He told me about Red Rocks and what it was like. I hinted that I'd like to go for a climb there, but I think he was really liking mountain biking, so we mostly did that.

I spent one day hiking in the Mt Charleston area I mentioned earlier in this post. I'd hoped to reach the summit of Charleston but was turned around by increasingly deep powder snow. Great for skiing, not great for hiking in leather boots without snowshoes.

I enjoyed the Las Vegas area. Besides the outdoor activities the food and lodging is cheap. The "anything goes" character of the city appeals to me. I was surprised at how diverse the population was. It seems like a place that, more than most places I've visited, represents all of humanity. Somehow they all manage to get along and run a prosperous city despite the barren environment. The city's youth probably helps. 100 years ago downtown Las Vegas was a natural oasis with no permanent human habitation. In Las Vegas, everyone is a newcomer, and there's plenty of desert for new arrivals. The city seems to exist solely because of its ability to stand out and attract attention from the rest of the world. More than any other city it's size, Las Vegas seems to me like a city founded and sustained by a single, simple idea. There's good reason that standing out in Las Vegas is more challenging than it is in most cities.

While the van remained in Las Vegas I flew to Houston for a ten day visit of family and long time friends. I left the van at the house of one of the locals I'd met in Vegas. The flight was cheap (another nice thing about Vegas) so not driving to Houston was a no brainer. It seemed like I mostly ate, slept, and talked to people while in Texas. I went on an almost daily bike ride with my six year old nephew, which I enjoyed. After telling him a Frank story I convinced him that wearing a helmet is a good idea. I met my nephew and his sister at their school one day for lunch. Inevitably, when they introduced me to their teachers and friends, the first thing they mentioned was "He eats dog" (see the "Thit Cho" story). I don't think their teachers believed them, but their friends did. Its funny to learn what my sister's kids consider to be my crowning achievement.

I also visited with Elmo, a high school buddy who is now a detective on the local police force. We tentatively planned on getting together in Colorado in late February along with another buddy. Elmo seemed to be doing okay until his in-laws arrived. After that the only place I saw him was in his driveway next to a fire pit with a beer in one hand and, more often than not, some dead animal (as Tim would say) over the fire. As a sign on Elmo's house says: "Texas Ain't For Amateurs." Elmo's wife had given him a 40" flat screen TV for Christmas. Of course, it arrived shortly after his in-laws did. As of the day I left Elmo still hadn't sat down and watched it. To make matters worse, the visit coincided with time off which Elmo had taken from work. It gets even worse (really) but I'll spare additional details. The bottom line is that, by Texas standards, the whole thing was a tragedy. If you don't feel that way then you aren't fit to live in Texas.

I enjoyed hearing Elmo's stories about the criminals he's dealt with. After hearing them I couldn't help but think how true the sign on his house really is. If you're going to commit a crime, my advice would be to stack the odds in your favor by doing it somewhere other than Texas.

While I was in Texas my sister and I spent a lot of time planning an expansion for her bakery business. We're going to turn her garage into a dedicated bakery. I'll be back in the Houston area in the spring (this time with the van) to help with the start-up. Right now I'm on my way to Phoenix. Matt is there visiting his parents. We plan on spending a day hiking in the mountains. After that I'm heading to Palm Springs, California to pick up Chris and Al. They're flying in from Oregon. We'll be spending a week rock climbing and backpacking in Joshua Tree National Park. After that I'll be heading into Baja, Mexico.

Enjoy the New Year celebrations. Recent photos are at this link. I've included the photo my mom probably doesn't want you to see.

More Canyons & Dunes

2007-12-05T17:19:00.000-08:00

The past few weeks have become something of a blur. Moab seems like a very long time ago. I've visited so many places I'm having trouble keeping track of them all.

Since my last entry I've taken two additioal backpacking trips. The first one was along the bottom of a canyon. The canyon started out as a river bed which gradually dropped down, until the walls became fairly high. Besides the typical rock formations I came across a couple of abandoned cliff dwellings (with old corn cobs still lying about), and encountered pools of water big enough to swim in.

My next backpacking trip was into the Grand Canyon. I started out at the north rim and gradually made my way down a subsidiary canyon to the Colorado River. The trip involved a lot of elevation loss, something like 6000 ft. This trip was quite memorable. Topography-wise, the canyon I dropped into reminded me of the deep valleys I saw during my Ptarmigan traverse trip in the North Cascades. From a vantage point within the canyon, the rim, which is actually flat on top, can't be distinguished from a mountain range. Of course, there are no glaciers, but it's much colder at the top of the rim than at the bottom of the canyon. The bottom is a desert, while the rim top is a pine forest reminiscent of some of Oregon's mountain forests. There were traces of snow on the rim, and overnight temperatures on the rim were around 10 F. On the way to the bottom I passed through layers of rock which spanned most of the Earth's existence. The canyon bottom was initially dry but about a quarter of the way down a spring rushed right out of the bottom of a rock face. The lowest point was the wide, muddy Colorado River, which was spanned by a suspension bridge. Certainly, there's good reason for the Grand Canyon's popularity. My trip had been undertaken during what must have been the north rim's off season. Everything on the north rim was shut down for the year. Although it meant tolerating low temperatures, I had the north part of the park to myself. I didn't encounter anyone else until I got near the bottom, where people had hiked in from the south rim. The weather was mostly clear, with occasional high, wispy clouds.

More recently, Ann flew into Las Vegas for a visit. We went to Death Valley and Zion National Park. As most people probably know, Death Valley is the lowest point in the western hemisphere. It's extremely dry. The weather report I saw indicated less than one inch of rain year to date. Death Valley is another place with some impressive topography. Although the bottom sits below sea level, it's surrounded by peaks, some of which reach 11,000 ft. There is a good sized sand dune, many canyons, and the dry lake bed itself. As with the Grand Canyon, temperature and plant life depends mostly on elevation.

Sometime during the past few weeks I ran into a kindred spirit named Mr. Kim. I was taking photos at a park lot when I met Mr. Kim. He was walking towards me from a small group of vehicles. Mr. Kim was wearing what looked like army fatigues, including a cap. His fatigues seemed a bit too large for him. I started wondering what I had done to upset the authorities this time. Whatever it was, it must have been bad if they were sending the military after me. Mr. Kim came up to me and asked if the Westfalia (referring to my van) belonged to me. Mr. Kim had a heavy accent. I guessed he was of Korean ancestry. I noticed that the fatigues appeared to be genuine government issue. His jacket was embroidered with "U. S. Air Force" on the left and the name "Choi" on the right. The authentic looking uniform made it seem more plausible that I was in some kind of trouble. Unsure of whether I should admit to it, I told Mr. Kim that the van was mine. I was a bit relieved when he said that he also owned a VW Westfalia camper van, then proceeded to ask questions about my van.

Eventually introducing ourselves, we talked for a few hours. It turns out Mr. Kim and I had a lot in common. Mr. Kim had bought a van, left his job, and was on a road trip. He'd been on the road for three months and was now on his way home to southern California. Like me, he was doing most of the trip solo. At his wife's insistence he had bought a new van for the trip. We showed our vans to each other, exchanged stories from our trips, and shared "best practices" (good places to park your van overnight, where to get cheap food, etc.) I showed Mr. Kim photos from my trip. He was fascinated by them. Although we were both on road trips, it was clear that what I'd been doing during my trip was different than what Mr. Kim had been doing during his. At one point I said something that produced a strong reaction in Mr. Kim. It was like he had suddenly realized something. He tried to explain it to me, but I didn't fully understand what had happened. Later, bowing his head, he gave me his remaining food. I took it only because he insisted. He then requested a photo of the two of us. I accepted, but asked for a photo in exchange. After taking the photos we said our goodbyes. Mr. Kim thanked me, then bowed again, this time more formally, before returning to his van.

I've kept trying to deduce what it was I said that caused Mr. Kim's reaction and why he had reacted so strongly. I'm still bewildered as to what it was. Oh well.

Another memorable experience was spending a few days in a Navajo reservation. I guess I've never been in a large reservation. It was like visiting a foreign country, which is not what I had expected. It reminded me of trips to Mexico when I was a kid. Many of the Navajo continue to use their native language as their primary language. There were few non-Navajos in most of the reservation, so I stood out. The reservation looked more impoverished than most places I've visited in the US. I saw many street and parking lot vendors. I remember stopping at a parking lot early in the morning. Shortly after my arrival a beat up truck deposited an old Navajo woman, her grandson, a small folding table, and a folding chair. She set a bunch of jewelry out on the table and sat down, waiting for someone to purchase her wares. I assume she sits there all day most days.

I'm in Las Vegas at the moment. I'll be flying out from here in a week and a half to visit family and friends near Houston over Christmas. Between now and then I'll be exploring the wilds near the city. After returning from Texas I plan on starting my trip into Mexico.

The weather's been pretty nice in Vegas. Today was the warmest day they've had in a while. I heard that the northwest has experienced some nasty storms lately. Hopefully everyone's doing okay.

Happy holidays!

Photos from the past few weeks are here.

Biking and Climbing in Moab

2007-11-14T08:48:00.000-08:00

Jeff arrived in Moab shortly after my last entry. We quickly caught up then proceeded to alternate our days between mountain biking and rock climbing.

We soon began to appreciate the area's main attraction: the weather. Through mostly sunny days we sampled the area's offerings of mountain bike trails and rock routes. Like most places, the quality of the trails and routes spanned the spectrum. From a purely technical standpoint, some I will not miss, others I would gladly repeat. One nice thing about many of the rides (and rock routes) is that the landscape is very open. There isn't much to block your view, and the scenery is pretty. From this standpoint, the rides and routes were mostly pleasant.

The riding surface was usually some variation of sandstone. The best riding surface was found on large monoliths of smooth sandstone the locals call "slickrock cowpies." It's a good description of what they look like. The surface is unforgiving if you fall on it, but the traction (when dry) is as good as it gets. Natural ledges in the stone turn the cowpies into a stunt park for bicycles. At the other end of the spectrum was sandstone in the form of sand. When piled up this stuff makes it feel like you're biking in molasses. It reminds me of biking in deep mud or snow. The deepest sand requires walking the bike. In between the two extremes are rocks and stones of various sizes. I got a lot of flats and wheel rim dings from our rides. I think it was a result of impacting hard surfaces with the tire. After finding the limits of Jeff's patience I started avoiding the rocks. This helped with the flats, but was less entertaining.

As with the bike trails, the rock climbing quality also varied. Neither of us had climbed harder routes in a while. We started off on lower grade routes and gradually worked our way up to a four pitch desert tower called "Castleton Tower", which was rated at 5.9. We had planned on doing this climb on Jeff's last day in town. Unfortunately, the day before our attempt we realized that we didn't have the right gear. We needed at least a couple of larger sized cams for protection. The best rock we climbed ended up being on a local crag called Wall Street. The Wall Street rock didn't have much surface texture, but it was very solid, and contained good cracks.

At the other end of the rock quality spectrum was a two pitch tower in Arches National Park called "Dark Angel". It had one route on it, also a 5.9, with a short bit of A0 aid. Like Castleton, Dark Angel is set in a scenic place. However, some of the rock on Dark Angel was horrid, especially at the start. I saw rocks instantly transform themselves into a cloud of powder when pressure was put on them. After releasing a large boulder I learned to stay off the worst stuff and be suspicious of everything I touched. Some flakes would bend visibly when I pulled on them. Jeff said leading on the bad stuff was the most scared he's been in a while. I could see why. The protection is only as good as the rock it's in. In addition to the poor quality of some of the rock, there were many moves which forced awkward body positions and squeezes. We concluded that the only reason the route existed was because it's the only way up a prominent spire. Hiking the few miles back to the van in the dark was a final (and fitting) kick in the pants from the Dark Angel.

Jeff started his return trip to Oregon this morning. It was good to catch up and spend time with him. As always, I've enjoyed exploring with Jeff. I think we both enjoy the uncertainties in life and the range of possibilities which that uncertainty entails. Good luck Jeff, whatever you do next.

As for me, I think it's time to leave the Moab area as well. I'll be meeting Ann in Las Vegas at the end of November. Between now and then I'll gradually make my way west through southern Utah and northern Arizona before heading into Vegas.

Photos from the past couple of weeks can be found here.

Cities, Arches, and Canyons of Rock, Nepalese Jewelry Peddlers

2007-10-31T09:01:00.000-07:00

It's been a couple of weeks since my last posting so it feels like it's time for an update.

Since the last post I visited City of Rocks in southern Idaho, then drove more or less directly to Moab in southeastern Utah.

City of Rocks is a sport rock climbing area, in the same vein as Oregon's Smith Rock. Upon seeing it I thought the name was a good fit. It's kind of like the downtown of a mid sized city, but instead of buildings there's a bunch of rock formations scattered about. I'm not sure what elevation it's at but it must be fairly high, because it was snowing when I arrived in the late afternoon. The area is set in a high desert, surrounded by rolling hills which are actually rather high (~10,000 ft).

City of Rocks is in forest service land. The routes are very accessible via dirt roads and a network of trails. Some of the routes could literally be belayed from your car. There are many campsites and toilets in the area. The tiny town of Almo is within a 15 minute drive and has most of what you need.

As with the Bugaboos, the rock climbing season had pretty much wrapped up by the time I'd arrived. I saw one other party, which looked like some kind of school or guided group. I spent two days there, mostly hiking about and scrambling on some of the rock formations. I considered staying longer but took it as a sign to leave when it started drizzling on the second afternoon. I uploaded a couple of photos here.

Having spent much of the trip to date in cold alpine environments, often with snow, I was looking forward to a sunnier, dryer, and warmer climate. After yet another encounter with the authorities (they said I had parked in some kind of missile range) I arrived in Moab. The afternoon I arrived a thunderstorm came through, but since then the weather's been pretty much what I had hoped for. Most days it's been completely clear, with highs in the 70s. The sun gets just bright and hot enough to almost make me wish it weren't quite so sunny, but only for a short bit of time before it starts to cool off again. Nights are cold, around freezing, and usually clear.

Moab is at the center of a vast, year-round outdoor playground. Within an hour's drive are two national parks (Arches and Canyondlands), a 12000 ft mountain range (the LaSals), multiple sport rock climbing destinations (Indian Creek probably being the most well known), class V river rapids on the Colorado River, hundreds of miles of rough canyon roads for 4x4 off-road and ATV fans, and, of course, the famous slickrock mountain biking trails.

I've been here for a week and a half and feel like I've only scratched the surface. I was a but overwhelmed when I first arrived. There were so many possibilities it was hard to decide what to do first. I felt like a kid in a candy store. I decided to start exploring the area on foot. I spent a couple of days day hiking in the Canyondlands and in Arches. After that I went backpacking for six days, then scrambled up one of the LaSals peaks. I haven't even ridden the bike yet or pulled out my rock shoes.

Arches is a fairly small national park. The entrance is just two miles outside of Moab. It's very popular and has a very touristy, almost Disneyland-like feel to it. The main attraction is, of course, the high density of natural rock arches. All are accessible via day hikes and many don't even require that you leave your car for a good look. In the span of one long day I managed to get through all the day hikes in the park. I hiked into one arch late on a clear, moonlit night, which made it more enjoyable. It is, admittedly, a must see if you're in the area. Photos here.

Canyonlands is a larger, less popular park which is divided into two main districts. The first district I visited is called Island in the Sky. This is essentially a large mesa, mostly flat on top, about 10 x 10 miles in size, and a couple of thousand feet above the Colorado River on one side and the Green River on the other. On the south side of the island the two rivers merge. On the north side the island is connected to the "mainland" by a 40 ft wide neck, technically making the island a peninsula. The natives used to drive bighorn sheep through the neck and onto the island, making it easier to hunt them. Later, cowboys fenced off the neck, turning the island into a giant corral for cattle. On any side the island drops off steeply into canyons and water sculpted rock formations. The canyons look like photos I've seen of the Grand Canyon. The views from the top of the island are stunning.

My first backpacking trip took me on a loop, down the west side of the island to the Green River, up the Green River a bit, into a canyon heading east towards the neck, then back uphill on the north side of the island. For a region that gets less than 10 inches of rain in a year water was easier to find than I had expected. Trees seem to be a good indicator of a spring and pools sometimes lingered at the bottom of steep north facing walls. Some of the water admittedly looked and smelled rather foul, but boiling it will kill anything that might hurt you (so I hoped, anyway). The dead stuff might even be nutritious. It was on this excursion that I came across a rock formation called Zeus and Moses. These are two rock towers, the taller one with an overhanging block near the top. I hiked up to the base and noticed climbing gear on both towers. I later found route descriptions on the web. Moses, the taller one, has a route with 525 ft (eight pitches) of vertical. The descent involves three rappels on two 60 meter ropes. The route is rated a 5.11+, well beyond my abilities, but it looked like you could lower the grade by aid climbing some parts. I found a web page describing a mid air traverse someone had done between the two towers using 1200 ft of static rope. Island in the Sky photos are here.

My backcountry permit was good for a few more days. Wanting to make the most out of the $15 I paid for the permit I next headed to the Needles district of the Canyonlands. Although they're in the same park and just a few miles from each other as the crow flies, it's close to a two hour drive between the two districts.

The Needles are quite different from what I'd seen in Island in the Sky or Arches. I can only describe the rock formations as other wordly. I'd never seen anything like them, either in person or in photos. It often seemed like I was on another planet, maybe the desert planet in the Star Wars series. Like Island in the Sky and Arches, there were canyons and rock pinnacles, but the shapes were much rounder. Many of the formations looked like someone had taken different colored balls of dough, stacked them on each other, then waited a while for gravity to deform the balls into odd shapes. In some areas the formations were very regular, forming what looked to my eyes like a fortress of alien architecture. In other areas there were narrow canyons in the spaces between benches of rock, often with overhanging walls. Inside the canyons trees and plants grew. These canyons reminded me of the old TV series "Land of the Lost" because they seemed like places where you could hide dinosaurs without anyone noticing. Every now and then I'd come across Native American artwork and petroglyphs on the canyon walls. It only added to the feeling that I was in another, strange world. Hopefully the photos convey some of of what I'm trying to describe. I also uploaded a video clip. The photo at the top of this posting is from the Needles.

I later learned that these structures were formed when underlying layers of salt had deformed as a result of the weight of the sedimentary rock which had built up on top of the salt. The Island in the Sky canyons, by contrast, were formed by erosion.

I left the Needles planning on heading back to Moab. I expected to meet Jeff there the next day. Once I got a cell signal I discovered he'd left Corvallis a day later than planned. I headed in the opposite direction instead, towards the nearby town of Monticello, to pamper myself with some restaurant food after sleeping in the dirt for six days.

On the way to Monticello the van started cutting out intermittently. Since the engine wasn't completely dying I pressed on. Once I got into town the problem got worse. On leaving the local burger joint the engine finally died and refused to restart. I figured I might as well take a look at the engine and see if there was anything I could find wrong. After checking a few things I noticed that one of the vacuum hoses was in pretty sad shape. I pulled it off, put my finger over one end and sucked on the other. It definitely had a leak. I didn't really think that this was the cause of the problem but figured I needed to replace it anyway. Luckily there was a parts store just two blocks away. To my surprise the engine ran fine once I replaced the hose.

It was while eating a burger in the restaurant that I met the Nepalese jewelry peddler. She'd hit up the restaurant owner and his daughter first. Initially I thought she was a Native American conducting some business with the owner. However, when she was finished with the owner she came over to my table and introduced herself as a native of Nepal who was on a mission. Her accent was consistent with the region. I hadn't finished my food and for the moment my stomach had control of my brain, so I told her that I had no need for any jewelry before she had even finished opening her case. She then asked for a donation. Still eager to return to eating my food I gave her the first bill I pulled out of my pocket, a ten. She was still curious about something and asked me if I was familiar with Nepal. I rattled off what I knew about Nepal's recent history: For most of the current decade Marxist rebels had been fighting soldiers loyal to the Nepalese king in a bloody civil war. Recently they'd decided to stop shooting each other and were currently negotiating over the structure of a new government. She was surprised at what I knew, but still didn't leave. She then explained that in Nepal there are people who look like me (mentioning my hair) who are called hippies. She asked me if I was a hippie. I'd been living outside for a week in the same clothes, hadn't cut my hair in several months, and hadn't shaved since leaving Corvallis. I must have looked even more grimey and disheveled than I normally do. Still thinking about the rest of my food I searched for a response that would allow me to get back to eating as soon as possible. I finally told her that if I look like a hippie then, yes, I must indeed be a hippie. She thanked me for my donation then headed to the adjacent pool hall to look for more customers / donors. Later, after my stomach relinquished control of my brain I wished I had asked her what her mission was. The backwaters of Utah seem like an odd place to find a jewelry peddler from Nepal.

Since I had an extra day before Jeff arrived I decided to head to the LaSal mountain range after spending the night in Monticello. The turn off for range access is on the way back to Moab. The LaSals aren't an especially aesthetic range, at least close up. They're more like high elevation hills. There's no permanent snow on them and none of the routes have much in the way of exposure. Grass grows on the peaks almost to the summits. However, they form the backdrop for all the places I've mentioned in this blog entry, so I figured I'd might as well pay them a visit.

My original intent was to climb Mt. Peale, at 12.7k ft the highest peak in the range. After slogging up boulder fields, sometimes on all fours, and reaching a ridge line, I realized that I hadn't paid enough attention to where I was going. There was a steep rock chute immediately between me and the ridge that lead to Mt. Peale's summit. I had gone up the wrong gully. Mt. Tukuhnikivatz ("Tuku" for short) was in the opposite direction along the same ridge line. It was closer, and looked easier to reach. It's summit, 240 ft lower than Peale's, instantly became my new objective. More scrambling on boulders and a few small snow patches put me on top. The summit was marked with a wooden pole, a bivy trench dug into the boulders, what I think was a bear skull, and a pile of poop from some animal. It was pretty windy. Some ravens were hanging out just above me performing various acrobatic tricks in the sky. It was actually very majestic. It seemed as if they were surfing the wind, just for the fun of it, never flapping their wings. It was effortless. Every now and then I'd hear a loud swoosh as they dove and buzzed the summit. The things they did would put acrobatic airplane pilots to shame. I sat there and watched the air show until they headed off somewhere else. LaSal pictures are here.

As I post this entry I'm in the town of Moab. Jeff should be arriving later today. We'll be rock climbing and mountain biking in the area and will likely go back to the Needles for more backpacking. I should be in the Moab vicinity for at least a couple more weeks. There's still much to explore here, and it's hard to complain about the weather given the time of year.

Phantom Glaciers, Senior Climbers, Sawtooths, & Illegal Immigrants

2007-10-16T15:37:00.000-07:00

Since my last entry I've visited Glacier National Park in western Montana and the Sawtooth Range in southern Idaho.

After successfully avoiding jail time in two countries I arrived at the eastern entrance of Glacier. There I learned that the road which cuts through Glacier was closed for maintenance. I had hoped to cross Glacier through this road. I quickly decided, mostly due to the immediately bad weather (see previous blog entry, Canadian police encounter section) to drive around the south end of the park and enter on the west side. While having breakfast in a small town on my route I learned that the wind storm had reached speeds of over 50 MPH overnight. The record wind speed for the area was around 110 MPH. Yikes! I thought only hurricanes and tornadoes reached such speeds in places other than high mountains.

Soon enough, I reached the west end of Glacier. My first stop after a night's sleep was the backcountry permit office. After describing my intended route, which involved backpacking to the continental divide, the ranger refused to give me a permit. He said there was too much snow on my route and that it would very likely snow more while I was out. It was overcast and raining at the time, snowing higher up, and the forecast called for more of this. Nonetheless, I was pretty upset at his response. I may never have the chance to visit this place again, I could always turn around if conditions warranted, and, after all, I had the most to lose from the venture. I took him up on his suggestion to check out conditions for myself (I think maybe he considered it a test) by doing a day hike to higher elevations. I picked out Mt. Brown, an 8500 ft peak with almost a mile of elevation gain. I got to within a few hundred feet of the top before turning around due to waist deep snow. Not for the first time I wished I had thrown my snowshoes in the van before leaving Corvallis. In any case, the divide was at a lower elevation, so I figured I could still get to it.

The next morning I showed up at the permit office, prepared with redundant arrays of arguments for why I should be granted a permit. My preparations proved to be unnecessary since there was a different ranger at the office. This time I made no mention of the continental divide and was granted a permit.

I did make the continental divide, although the snow was almost as deep as Mt. Brown. It was overcast and snowing or raining for most of my outing, so I didn't get to see much. My best day weather-wise was the day I hiked up Mt. Brown. On this outing I had decided to try my luck at fishing and trapping. Why buy food and haul it in on your back when there's food all around you? I didn't have a fishing pole with me so I made one. For trapping I made a snare out of dental floss, webbing, and some sticks whittled with a knife. A sapling served as the spring. I used peanut butter for bait. I set it up three times. Each time the peanut butter was eventually gone but the snare hadn't tripped. I'll need to make the trap more sensitive if I hope to catch anything. I think the problem was with how I had whittled the sticks and maybe also the angle of the pull from the sapling. I had similar luck with fishing, but I think the problem there was with the lure.

I have to say that Glacier was somewhat disappointing. Maybe it was the weather, or maybe it was the fact that I had just visited the Canadian Rockies. The Canadian Rockies peaks seemed similar to Glacier's. Despite the name I didn't see any glaciers. I have heard that Glacier's glaciers have retreated substantially. After picking up the van's newly minted duplicate title in Kalispell I headed for the Sawtooths. Glacier photos are here.

The weather looked much more promising as I headed for Stanley, Idaho. The skies were blue and the climate became dryer, reminiscent of central Oregon. I passed through the towns of Victor, Elmo, and Corvallis, all in Montana. Soon enough I reached Stanley. Stanley is a tiny town (the city limits sign claimed a population of 100) located just northeast of the Sawtooth range at the north end of a broad valley. Surprisingly it had a public library, and even more surprisingly it had free wireless internet service.

It was while I was at the library looking for a Sawtooths guidebook that I met Bob Dargatz. Bob is a retired structural engineer, lifelong climber, and all around athlete who lives just outside of Stanley. At the age of 82 he still makes multi-day backpacking trips (often as a guide) into the Sawtooths and climbs 10,000+ ft peaks. He invited me over to his place to pick up a guidebook and map of the area. The Sawtooths were literally in his back yard. He said he typically left from his house when traveling into the Sawtooths.

Bob had a wealth of information on the Sawtooths. He gave me his guidebook, saying he'd just ordered the second edition, and his well worn USGS topo map of the north end of the range. The map was especially valuable, since Bob had marked climbing routes, alpine trails, good camping spots, and a secret hot spring on it. None of this information was in the guidebook or in the available maps. Judging by the fact that some of the routes on Bob's map were not mentioned in the guidebook I think he had put up some new routes. After sharing photos of our forays into the peaks Bob went on to tell various stories from his life. We spent the afternoon and evening together, forgetting to eat. I especially enjoyed hearing Bob's stories about World War II. He had served in the army, first in the Philippenes and then as part of the occupation force after Japan surrendered. For someone of my age, WWII can often seem like the distant past. Hearing vivid accounts directly from someone who had lived it made the war seem much more real. It turns out that Bob has ties to Corvallis. Prior to shipping out to the Pacific he had spent time in Camp Adair, just north of Corvallis. After the war he returned to attend Oregon State. While attending OSU he met and married a local woman. He has a brother in law in Philomath, just outside of Corvallis. Bob invited me to spend the night. Not having slept in a real bed since leaving Corvallis, I readily accepted. The hot shower was nice too. After breakfast the next day we parted ways, having exchanged contact information.

Now, about the Sawtooths. Sawtooths is a good name for the range. They're quite jagged looking, reminiscent of the North Cascades, but even more jagged. The range is contained entirely within the Sawtooths Wilderness Area. The wilderness designation means that the Tooths are well preserved. By law, no man made structures (other than trails and trail signs) are allowed in the area. There are no prepared campsites, you just camp wherever looks like a good spot. The only way in is by foot or by stock (horse, mule, donkey). The marked trails are well maintained. The area runs 32 miles north to south and 20 miles east to west. It has 33 peaks which are over 10,000 ft in height. Unlike the North Cascades the Sawtooths don't appear to have any glaciers of significant size, no doubt a result of the drier climate. Although it's studded with alpine lakes and rivers the valleys in the Sawtooths aren't as gouged out and fjord-like as in the North Cascades. This makes access and movement within the area easier, at least relatively speaking. The rock is pink and gray granite. The summit routes span the range of difficulty, from walk-ups to aid climbs. Judging by the guidebook, some of the peaks have only been climbed using aid techniques. Many of the peaks certainly look quite formidable. Warbonnet Peak, which seemed to be one of the most difficult peaks in the area, is an overhanging blade of rock shaped like a shark fin. The guide book says that you can drop a rock from it's summit and not hear it hit anything for nine seconds.

I spent six days in the wilderness. My arrival late in the season meant that there was snow covering many of the peaks, but it wasn't as deep as in Glacier or the Canadian Rockies. It snowed a couple of the days I was out but the last two days I enjoyed completely clear weather. I attempted two peaks, reached the summit of one, and visited some of Bob's unmarked trails.

The climb up the peak which I didn't summit (Mt. Regan) reminded me of Oregon's Three Finger Jack or Mt. Washington. Most of it was a scramble up a ridge, with the most difficult part saved for the last few hundred feet on the summit block. After arriving at the base of the summit block I went up what I later realized was the wrong route. I kept going up until I got to the point where I didn't think I could make further moves up, much less downclimb. Probably I went further than I should have. The proximity of the summit had suckered me in. Downclimbing what I'd gone up proved to be rather nerve racking. The fight was on in my mind. Panic was a beast making lunges at it's prey, while calm was the sword which beat back the beast's thrusts. Mostly calm won out, but the beast had it's moments.

Upon reaching safer ground I pulled out the guide book and realized that I had misunderstood the route description. The described route continued around the east side of the summit block, traversing along an exposed ledge on the northeast face. The traverse was filled with snow and I had left my ice axe and crampons in the van. It was clear from the description that the route is normally exposed rock. I gingerly made my way along the traverse, not entirely sure of what was supporting me. At the end of the traverse it looked like the route went up into a shallow diagonal couloir, which was also filled with snow. After contemplating the matter for a good while I decided to abandon the attempt. The second peak was a walk in the park by comparison. The route was obvious and the most difficult section had no snow or ice on it. The photo at the top of this entry is Mt. Regan reflected in Sawtooth Lake on one of the sunny mornings. More Sawtooth photos are here.

The Sawtooths was another place I would have liked to stay at longer, but my food ran out and besides, I had to get to an Oregon DMV before my trip permit expired. I hope to return some day to visit Bob and the Sawtooths again.

Speaking of the van, I picked up permanent Oregon plates in Ontario, Oregon, just across the border from Idaho. They're mounted now. It's nice to have the DMV odyssey over with. The only outstanding item with respect to the van is the permanent Oregon title. Ann should be getting it in the mail within 30 days. I'll probably just have her carry it with her when we she flies down to visit in early December.

Ontario was an interesting place. To say the least, I'm sure its far from the top of anyone's list of "must see" destinations. Its main claim to fame would probably be it's plethora of agricultural processing factories. There were many Hispanics there. I almost felt like I was somewhere in Mexico. While at an auto parts store I met a Guatemalan fellow. He worked in an onion processing factory for $8.65 an hour. He said it would take three months of work in Guatemala to make what he makes in a day working in the US. He asked me where I lived and what my job was like. He thought that he had a pretty good job but I think he wanted to see if things were better where I was. I told him that I lived on the other side of the state, in Corvallis. He said that he stays away from that part of the state (referring, I think, to the Willamette Valley) because its less friendly to undocumented workers and he's afraid of being deported. His family is still in Guatemala and they are dependent on the money he sends home. He was looking forward to returning to Guatemala soon and seeing his family, apparently for the first time in two years. On his next trip to the US he plans to bring his son (who just turned 18) with him so he can work here as well. After I told him where I lived he no longer seemed interested in what my job was like. He probably wouldn't have believed what I would have said anyway. He thanked me for translating between him and and the store's clerk, shook my hand, then took off in a van (which was of a later model year than mine), saying that he needed to get back to work. The tacos I had for lunch were the best I'd had in a long time.

A 100x pay differential seems like a huge incentive to come to the US, despite the risks and hardships it entails. If I believed that I could make 100x my pay in Canada I wouldn't have to think too long about heading up there. Instead of working for 12 years to be able to afford a leave of absence it would only take six weeks.

I'm in Boise, Idaho right now. I need to pick up a few supplies, make some gear repairs, and do a little research. My next destination will likely be City of Rocks, a rock climbing area just north of the Utah border in Idaho. After that I'm not too certain of my path. I'll probably head to somewhere in Utah, but it depends on if and when Jeff will be coming to Moab in southeastern Utah.

Adios, Canada (Don't Shoot!)

2007-10-03T13:46:00.000-07:00

Sadly, it's time to say adios to the friendly Canadians and their pretty parks. I would have liked to stay for another week to check out Mt Robson provincial park. However, the van's title is on it's way to a post office in Montana and the current permit expires in two weeks.

I could have easily spent the rest of the trip in the Canadian Rockies, despite the winter-like weather. I had to keep reminding myself that there are other places to see, each with their own unique attractions. Still, it's hard to leave. The Canadians I met seem to have a deep appreciation for the beauty of their land. There was the old fellow who visited the same campground in Yoho twenty two times last year, the woman who left Hawaii and returned to work as a hut keeper in her favorite park, and the couple who returned each year to the campground where the husband had proposed to his wife.

Initially I thought that the Canadian parks lacked a remoteness and a preservation ethic. The huts and lodges in otherwise remote areas plus the popularity of flying in to places by helicopter lead me to this. After looking at a road atlas of Canada, however, I realized that "remote" probably has a different meaning in Canada. There are areas in Canada larger than most American states which are devoid of towns, roads, or, so it seems, any other mark of humanity. If you really want to get away from it all you can always head to one of those places.

It's clear that climbers have had a strong influence on the Canadian Rockies. There are a multitude of alpine huts maintained by the Canadian Alpine Club. I learned that a century ago the Canadian Pacific railroad company had brought over European climbing guides in an effort to promote tourism in the area. Many of the peaks were first ascended by these guides and their wealthy European clients. The guides imported the hut system from the Alps, and it's carried over into modern times. The huts lend an air of safety to what can be a harsh environment. The huts also mean that you don't have to haul as much gear as you otherwise would. In contrast, alpine climbing in the US seems to have more of a "you're on your own" quality to it. There is an American Alpine Club but I never hear much about them. The European influence can also be seen in the common use of guides and the strict guide certification process. It's interesting how choices made a hundred years ago have lead to such a differentiation.

So much for such generalizations. After the van repair I went on a backpacking trip covering ground in two provincial parks and one national park (Banff). The highlight of the trip was the Magog Lake / Mt Assinboine area, seen in the picture at the top. A former park ranger and a climbing guide independently recommended visiting this place. It was a good recommendation. Out of all the places I visited in Canada on this trip I think this was my favorite. Mt Assinboine is about the same elevation as Mt Hood in Oregon. It's often referred to as the "Matterhorn of Canada" due to it's similar appearance to it's more famous counterpart. The hike in was something like 17 miles, but you can fly in by helicopter and stay at a lodge next to the lake if you prefer. I didn't climb the peak, but I did go up a nearby minor peak called Nob Peak, mostly for the views. I had brought along a xeroxed page out of a guidebook describing the routes on Assiniboine and hiked part of the approach. The most popular route is a moderately easy (5.5) technical rock route along a ridge. Apparently no glacier travel is involved. There is an alpine hut near the base of the route. The route description warns that the route is "much more difficult" when it is covered in snow, which was the case when I was there.

The outing wound up being a big loop through valleys, over passes, past lakes and other peaks. In the mornings or late afternoons I'd take short spur hikes to nearby lakes or peaks, leaving most of my load at camp. I utilized the proven "slow and fat" style, carrying a large brick of cheese, a salami log, crackers, a bag of mixed nuts / candy, and several apples for snacking. Despite my best efforts I had to cut another hole on my belt once I returned. Next time I'll have to bring a bucket of lard with me.

The most impressive wildlife of the Assiniboine trip were a couple of moose. I saw two, a male and a female, on separate days. I had always thought of a moose as a deer with different looking antlers. After seeing one at close range I realized that they are much larger than a deer. If a bounding box were drawn around the bull moose I saw it would have been at least as tall and wide as my van, and maybe 80% of its length. For sure, it's not an animal you would want to upset. Fortunately it's the mating season for them so he had other things on his mind. I took photos of the moose but the camera had trouble focusing. There were plenty of signs warning of grizzly bears, but I never saw any. I did see tracks for what I initially thought was a cat-like animal. Later I realized that the claw marks indicate that the animal was not a cat, since their claws are retracted when walking. Most likely it was a coyote. One night I heard a cry from some large animal. Whatever it was it didn't last long, and it didn't sound happy either. Photos from the trip can be found here. I also uploaded a couple of short videos. The first one is a pan from the slopes of Nob Peak. The second one is from an exposed ridge higher up. It was pretty windy.

Next on my list is Glacier National Park in Montana. After that I'll likely visit the Sawtooth range in Idaho. The van's title is in the mail. I'll be picking it up in Kalispell, Montana. Once I have it I'll need to retitle it in another state and then get permanent plates. I contacted the Oregon DMV state offices and it sounds like I can do this without having to go to Oregon, but it also sounds like a time consuming and complicated process. I'll see if I can get plates and a title in Montana or Idaho. If not I'll continue on to eastern Oregon and do it there. In any case, it looks like my multi state DMV tour will continue for at least a bit longer. The WRX has been sold. Thanks go out to my sales team, Jeff & Ann.

Okay, you've made it this far. Here's the story on the subtitle. The most convenient place for me to cross the border back into the US turned out to be a pretty remote border station. There was literally nothing other than the two border stations there. The nearest town, gas station, house, or anything was about an hour's drive away. I arrived late and from all appearances it looked to be closed. A simple metal gate prevented me from crossing over. There were no cars parked at either station. It would have been be very easy to just walk across. If there had been another vehicle on the other side of the gate it would have been a simple task to transfer guns, drugs, nuclear warheads, etc. over the border. So much for homeland security, I thought. I remembered seeing a sign a while back saying that the station was only open from 9 to 6. Okay, I figured, I'll just park here for the night and in the morning there'll be some people there. I had dinner and fell asleep.

I was woken up by a bright light outside the van. I was still trying to remember where I was and how I'd gotten there when I opened the side door. The first thing I noticed was a bright light. The next thing I noticed was a gun pointing at me. Someone in the direction of the light and the gun was repeating the words "Put your hands up!", each time with increasing urgency. Other than the light, it was very dark out, windy, and raining hard. It all seemed very surreal. Still half awake, I was thinking that this was likely a dream. I figured I'd play along. After putting my hands up I was told to lean forward and put my hands on side of the van. Then I got asked a bunch of questions. "Where are you from? Why are you here? What are you doing in Canada? What's your occupation? Where did you cross into Canada? Where are you going? Is anyone else in the van? Are you carrying any weapons?" He was pretty wound up. I think some of my answers confused him, since I didn't really know the answers myself. (Is an ice axe a weapon? Where is it that I was going? What is my occupation if I'm on a leave of absence?)

I don't think he ever really believed that I was a former engineering manager taking the long way to Mexico, but he eventually calmed down. He said something about smugglers, told me that the crossing was closed for the season, and "advised" me to head over to the next closest crossing further east. He said that it was open 24 hours a day. I had already been pulled over earlier that same day by another officer, so I figured I'd better leave Canada as soon as possible before doing something else that would upset the local authorities. I really didn't want to be banned from future entry into Canada. I decided to cross that same night. Of course, when I arrived at the next crossing it was also closed. I turned around and this time got further away from the border station before stopping for some much needed sleep. As I bedded down for the second time that night I thought to myself: "If I run into another Canadian cop again I'm going to have to change some of my habits." No one came by. The next morning I crossed over.

The Canadians must have related their experiences with me to the Americans, because they spent half an hour searching the van. Finding nothing of significance, and looking somewhat disappointed, they were forced to let me back in. They did take my apples and the remaining salami log, saying something about mad cow disease as they did so. Later I regretted not having asked if I could eat the apples and salami while I waited for them to finish searching the van.

Bugaboos & Yoho

2007-09-27T09:30:00.000-07:00

I've been in Canada for a week and a half now. Last week I visited the Bugaboos, a provincial park, which is a well known alpine rock climbing area. The park is full of granitic spires, many of them rising out of sheets of glacial ice. The summits are around 10,000 ft in elevation. Unfortunately the weather wasn't terribly cooperative. It snowed every day I was there and I had one night out in a storm.

I wound up climbing one peak (Eastport Spire). It was easy rock, mostly scrambling, but a bit slippery at times because of the new snow. I wanted to check out Pidgeon Spire as well but I don't think I ever even saw it. I climbed up glacier ice one day to a pass where I knew I should be able to see it, but the visibility was near zero so I didn't see much at all. I spent the rest of the time exploring the area, climbing up and over low points on ridges to see what was on the other side.

Even though I didn't see everything I had wanted to see I could understand the appeal of the Bugaboos. For one, it's pretty accessible. The hike in, while strenuous, is over in a few hours. At the end of the hike there's a really nice hut you can spend the night at. It's got stoves, heating, lighting, cooking utensils, hot and cold running water, and bunks. The electricity comes from a mini hydro generator that's set up in a nearby stream. If you'll just be in the area near the hut and are willing to shell out $22 Canadian per night you can avoid having to haul in a bunch of camping gear (like I did). The most famous spires (Bugaboo and Snowpatch) are within an hour's hike of the hut. The routes on the spires, even just those near the hut, span the entire range of technical difficulty. There's everything from routes for beginners to routes which would challenge the world's best climbers. The east face of Snowpatch in particular is a big wall with routes which are over a dozen pitches in length. The rock is solid high quality large crystal granite, the type of rock that rock climbers love. If you want a more remote experience just head for one of the passes between the spires and you'll find more spires on the other side. The park itself is not especially large, at least compared with places such as the North Cascades or the Olympics. However, the area is quite dense with spires and routes. Besides climbers, the park's natural beauty also attracts hikers.

It's clear, however, that I had arrived too late in the season. July or early August should be prime. The hut custodian told me that the hut can get very crowded in high season, to the point where they have to turn down people (the hut's maximum capacity is forty people). Most days I was there the hut custodian and I were the only people in the park. The hut shuts down at the end of September.

My night out in the storm was surprisingly comfortable. I spent the night in a space formed by two slabs of rock. One slab had fallen on the other and formed a tunnel shaped like an upside down V. It was the perfect size for a bivy sack and some gear. I walled up one end of the tunnel with boulders to keep the wind from blowing through the space and called it good. During the night I could hear the wind howling fiercely at times, but I was warm and dry, protected by a shelter of solid granite. I never thought I'd be so happy to be sleeping under some rocks.

I had seen many pika (a small rodent-like animal) in the area and had noticed that they used the spaces under boulders as shelters. I remembered the advice given in a wilderness survival book I had read a while back. If you are in an unfamiliar environment, observe how the local wildlife gets by and learn from them. Good advice.

Speaking of wildlife, I saw a lot of pika and squirrels. I also ran into a couple of ptarmigan, who's plumage was starting to turn white. The largest animal I saw was a beautiful snow white mountain goat, a ram. He definitely looked ready for winter. Besides having his full winter coat he looked pretty fat. He was lying down when I first saw him and seemed very reluctant to get up. He reminded me of Ann's chubby cat Samantha after she's had a meal. See the link for Bugaboo pictures.

After returning from the Bugaboos I stopped at some local hot springs and relaxed a bit. I next went to Golden, British Columbia to pick up a package. I hung out there for a couple of days before I got tired of being told that it had not arrived. I decided to spend a couple of days backpacking and hiking in nearby Yoho national park. I spent a night in a camp with a bunch of friendly Canadians and explored the area on foot, checking out valleys, lakes, and various passes. It snowed both days I was out. At times the snow was so deep that I had to wade through it, but it was fun to explore such a beautiful place. The park ranger who talked me into this particular area told me that the permits for it are typically reserved to capacity three months in advance. Since I was there at the end of the season I was able to get a permit the same day I hiked in. The pictures from the Yoho trip didn't come out too well but I uploaded a few to this link.

Currently I'm in Calgary. The van recently developed an electrical problem which prevents the windshield wipers and headlights from functioning. I was able to bypass a relay with some bailing wire and got the wipers to work. I thought I could do something similar for the headlights, but before proceeding further down that path I decided to stop listening to my inner third world mechanic. I figured I'd better have a real mechanic look at it before I short something out and burn down the van and everything in it. Luckily I found a VW specialist in Calgary. She was willing to get me in on short notice since I'm living in the van. She just called me and said that the ignition switch needs to be replaced. It should be ready later this afternoon. Meanwhile I've been cruising around Calgary on my bike. The weather's much nicer on this side of the mountains.

I had to stop at four DMVs (one in Washington and three in Idaho) but I managed to get a vehicle permit that's good until October 17th. I should have the replacement title by then. So far I've managed to avoid any jail time.

I'll post another update in a couple of weeks.

Finally leaving

2007-09-12T08:21:00.000-07:00

Well, it's a drizzly morning in Corvallis, which must mean it's time to leave. The WRX hasn't sold and the van's legal work is still being processed, but I don't think my being here is going to help further with that stuff. First stop is the Bugaboos, a provincial park in southeastern British Columbia, Canada. It has some famous alpine spires that I'd like to see and maybe get on. Next stop is the Banff / Jasper area of the Canadian Rockies. Ann and I visited the area a couple of years ago and I'd like to explore more of the backcountry. The photos and descriptions I've seen of some of the routes in this area are pretty wild, but it also sounds like there are plenty routes which are within my ability.

My main concern is lack of familiarity with local weather patterns. I'll be packing good bivy gear (bivy sack and winter sleeping bag) and will be carrying extra clothing in case I have to wait out a storm. I'm guessing I could hole up for at least 3 straight days of stormy weather but I should be able to survive more than that. I'll be using a survival system which Jeff and I invented during our Ptarmigan trip. It's called "SLAP" for short. "S" is for "Stop", "LA" is for "Look Around", and "P" is for "Panic". Later on we shortened it to the "P" survival system. With my newly minted wilderness survival knowledge I should be fine.

If winter weather sets in I may bail early and head south. If the weather stays clear I'm planning on spending no more than 4 weeks in Canada before returning to the US. Of course, I may get distracted by something along the way and never even get to Canada.

I'll be driving up through central Oregon, eastern Washington, and the Idaho panhandle before crossing into British Columbia. I'll need to make some stops along the way at DMVs to look for ways to extend my temporary vehicle permit (the current one expires 9/22) and will likely also make some final gear / map / guide book purchases in Spokane. Assuming I don't get distracted too much I should be at a Bugaboo trail head by Sunday.

The house rental is going well as far as I can tell. No major surprises, but Chris has a good story about the dryer which you'll have to ask him about.

Since I stayed in Corvallis a bit longer than I had originally thought, I set up a web site for my sister's bakery business. It's not completely ready but here's the link to it: www.pattykakes.com. It was kind of fun to figure out how to put it together. The software they have for building web sites these days is pretty impressive, especially the professional grade stuff. There's still a lot of things that I'd like to be able to do but which I haven't figured how to do. My sister also has to do a few things before publicizing it more widely. My trip's composition should allow me time to work on it. It looks like my trip will have two main components: Stretches of time where I'm wandering around wilderness on foot or bike; Stretches of time when I'm recovering from the former. I figure when I'm recovering I can spend time helping my sister. Hopefully her business will do well.

I know some of you believe that there may also be a few sprinkles of time where I'll be sitting in a jail for not driving a fully legal vehicle. That possibility can't be ruled out. I'll have to hope that modern jails have wireless networks.

Thanks for all the well wishes from everyone. I leave you with this photo of Jeff on the sixth morning of the Ptarmigan trip. It'd been raining or snowing I think for the previous 40 hours or so, and we still had most of a long day and another half day to go. Jeff's starting to look less happy. Little did he know at the time that it would get much worse before getting any better.

Stay happy, wet or dry.

Next post will be when I leave Canada, or when it becomes more obvious to me that I'm not going there.

Ptarmigan traverse (kind of)

2007-08-28T14:21:00.000-07:00

I'm back from my trip to the North Cascades. 6 1/2 days in rugged (lots of topographic relief) and remote country. The only other people we saw during our entire outing was on the first half of the first day. The route we took zigzagged up and down above tree line between 4000 and 8500 ft. It crossed several glaciers and countless boulder, scree, and snow fields. It wound through multiple alpine meadows and high passes. I'm not sure how much distance we covered, but we know that during the last 1 1/2 days we traveled 33 miles. I'm guessing based on this that the total length was something like 70 miles. The route was essentially a backpacking trip which required some technical climbing skills. We threw in a summit (Dome Peak) for grins. We were on the "official" Ptarmigan route only the first three days. We were making good time and decided to split off from the Ptarmigan route onto a different route on the fourth morning. We expected the route change to add a day to a five trip. We used ice axes, crampons, and sometimes a rope for glacier travel. On our fourth day we encountered a 35 meter pitch of mid grade technical rock which ended up being the crux of the entire outing. Our third camp site must have had one of the most beautiful vistas I've ever seen.

The weather was variable, everything from clear blue sunny skies to fog and snow. We spent a couple of days mostly in the rain. On our fifth day the visibility was especially bad. We had to revert to map and compass for navigation and despite that we often found ourselves bushwhacking. On the fifth night it poured rain and on the sixth day it snowed. Jeff's feet hurt so much at the end of the sixth day that I had to stop where he was and make camp around him. On the seventh day we found ourselves sitting down every few minutes to rest our weary bodies. I walked barefoot at times on the last day because the boots hurt my feet so much. We saw marmots, bears, and ptarmigans. On the fifth day we found cougar tracks in the snow going up and then down a steep 6800 ft pass.

Despite the unpleseantries, it's a trip which I would do again. I thought the same even as I was hobbling along on the last day. Every time we crossed over a pass we had a new vista. It seemed like each one was more beautiful than the last one. I found myself looking forward to the next pass, just to see what might be on the other side. I also learned some good lessons about navigation in bad weather.

It was great to have Wayne along. A native Washingtonian and a very capable rock climber, he's been coming to these mountains ever since he was a boy. He nailed the crux pitch of the whole trip, a slabby, dirty, 35 meter upward traverse that we almost abandoned. I learned a good bit from watching him. It's very clear that he loves these places.

Wayne outfitted us for the trip, determining what provisions to take. We brought what initially seemed like too much food. On the route we ate all the time, snacking frequently along with the three normal meals. We ate the kinds of things that doctors warn you about: cookies loaded with butter, lots of different kinds of nuts, pancakes, something like 10 different kinds of cheeses. Although we were mostly on the route when there was daylight, we had frequent breaks. In part this was to provide time for snacking. Jeff and I loved it. We called it the "slow and fat" climbing style. It turned out to be just the right amount of food.

Often we encountered meadows of wild blueberries. There was a patch at our third camp. Like hungry bears, the three of us had hunched over and moved about the patch picking and eating delicious blueberries. We never missed a chance to pick a few berries when our route took us through a patch and often ate them as dessert. There were lots of water sources so we didn't carry much water. We'd often take sips directly from the streams we crossed.

Despite all the gorging I lost weight on the outing. When you can pig out and still lose weight, that's a great trip. See some of the photos here.

The house is being turned over to the renters tomorrow. It's all set to go. The remaining problems are: 1) The WRX hasn't sold; 2) I still don't have permanent plates for the van. Jeff is going to store the WRX for now. If it doesn't sell soon I'm going to lower the price. Apparently the van's title holder lost the title and they have to get a replacement. My last temporary permit expires on 9/12 so I'm ok until then.

Ann and I are taking a labor day weekend trip to the John Day area in north central Oregon. I'll be back in Corvallis at least on Monday of next week. I'm not sure what after that. Much depends on the state of the remaining problems.

Spend it like you're jobless

2007-08-18T17:16:00.001-07:00

I'm off the the North Cascades in northern Washington for a week. Jeff, his friend Wayne (who I haven't met) and I are planning a week long ridge traverse called the Ptarmigan traverse. We're also throwing in a few peaks which lie near our route. I've climbed in the North Cascades once before (Forbidden Peak) and really enjoyed it. Good rock (relatively speaking), long, sometimes technical knife edge ridges, lots of exposure, alpine meadows, glaciers, wildlife, and remoteness. It's an area that seems to have a lot of the things I like in a climb.

I'm looking forward to the trip but I'm also a bit concerned about how much suffering I'll be in for. In terms of fitness, based on my Olympus trip I think I'll be fine. However, it seems like I always have some kind of foot and/or joint problem, especially on longer treks. Jeff (and others) finally convinced me to buy some new boots. I think they believe that my footwear is part of the problem. I can't in all honesty disagree. In addition, the leather backpacking boots I took to Mt Olympus were completely soaked after a day on snow and ice.

After some searching, I ended up buying the same model boot Jeff bought last year, which he's been very happy with (best pair of boots he's ever had is what he said). The boots were pricey but they fit well. They're also quite light relative to my plastic mountaineering boots. They are designed for technical alpine climbing. "Alpine" in climbing parlance generally means highly varied terrain, so they should be versatile boots. Although they're not plastics they are supposedly highly waterproof (Jeff confirmed this with his experience). This means they should be good for snow and ice. My plastics are warmer and stiffer, but that shouldn't matter much given the types of things I'll likely be doing over the coming year. Jeff, Cliff and I did a one day trip using my new boots to a nearby peak (Three Finger Jack). They aren't going to work any miracles, but they did well for a new pair of boots.

Unfortunately the new boots don't work with my old crampons (the metal sandals you strap on to boots so you can climb ice). So, I had to get new crampons as well. My old crampons have failed me in some fashion three times this year (most recently twice on the Mt Olympus climb). The plastic boots I have were also getting pretty worn and are held together in part with duct tape. Maybe it was time for new climbing boots and crampons regardless of any foot / joint troubles.

As I mentioned in my last entry Jenny Davis found some good tenants for the house. She's done a great job, much better than what I would have done (yes, I know, that's not saying much). She thought of all kinds of things that I never would have even considered. Anyhow, if you ever need someone to manage your rental property give her a ring. It's been wonderful not having to worry at all about finding tenants. Now all I need to do is get out of the house.

The WRX is up for sale. $12,400 (blue book value) or best offer if anyone's interested. It's had regular servicing and I recently took care of some minor things. A very fun to drive yet practical and reliable car.

I got the van back from having a mechanic look it over. The only things they found were that the front brake pads were near their end of life and the front brake rotors were worn down pretty far. I went ahead and had the pads and the rotors replaced. Compression on all cylinders was good (within spec) and well matched. This indicates that the engine internals are in good shape. I'm getting the impression from various sources that I'll need to check the oil pretty regularly. It seems that these engines, even when they're in good condition, consume oil.

I almost forgot to mention the biggest expense of the week. I picked up a new laptop. HP kept my work laptop so I went out and bought one. I went with a small (13" screen) Apple MacBook. I used Apples in college, and also at NASA. Although I've gotten very used to Windows, I think Macs still have the best operating system on the market. The current OS is actually an open source Unix variant. It's a smart move on the part of Apple. Unix has always been known for its reliability and security. The fact that it's open source means that Apple saves a lot of money on expensive OS development. A nice bonus feature of the newer Macs is the ability to run Windows and Windows based applications natively.

That's it for now. Next entry will be once I'm back from the North Cascades.

Mt Olympus & Ho River

2007-08-09T12:22:00.000-07:00

I'm back from my visit to Olympic national park in Washington. I went half intending to climb Mt Olympus, the highest point in the range. The summit is pretty remote, something like 20 miles and 7500 feet of elevation gain from the nearest parking lot. I spent the first day hiking in along the Ho River. Just the hike itself is very pretty. The trail runs through an old growth rain forest. Huge trees (some of the biggest in the world), moss, and all kinds of plants growing everywhere. It seems very primitive and ancient somehow. There are a number of impressive waterfalls and a crossing over a deep gorge along the trail.

The second day I headed out for the summit. I hadn't really seen much of the mountain until I got about a mile out from camp. I crested the top of a ridge of rubble and then I saw it. It was spectacular. The other side of the ridge dropped down steeply onto the Blue Glacier. Most of the glacier was bare, blue ice, with lots of crevasses. Further up the glacier were massive ice falls, flowing their way around pinnacles of rock 1000 ft or more in height. At the top of the ice falls was a relatively flat and very large snow field with more rock pinnacles sticking out the top. I figured one of them must be the summit. Unfortunately my camera decided not to work (I now own three non-functional digital cameras) so I didn't get any photos. Check out this link for other's photos of what I saw.

Crossing the glacier solo was a bit intimidating. It took some will to convince myself that each step would not result in my breaking through the roof of a crevasse and falling into its bottomless pit. Once I actually got on the glacier I felt better. Still, the thought of falling into a crevasse was something I had to keep beating back, sometimes before each and every step I took. Whether or not such fear was warranted I don't know. Some times I saw features in the ice which suggested I was overreacting but some times I saw features which suggested the opposite. I was constantly on the look-out for any signs of a weak surface, often poking with my ice axe to test surfaces before putting my weight on them. If nothing else it served to convince myself that I was being safe. Soon enough I was across the glacier and on to the next part of the climb.

The next part was a long, pleasant slog up relatively gentle snow slopes to the top of what is called Snow Dome (see photos at the link). The top of Snow Dome is a relatively flat snow field with multiple pinnacles poking out of it. I could understand now why Mt Olympus is properly referred to as a massif. Olympus is basically a huge mound of snow and ice with a few pinnacles of rock jutting out the top of it. It reminded me of some of the pictures I've seen of Antarctica. A landscape of snow with the occasional rock tower poking out. The valleys below had filled with fog making it easy to believe that everything below me was snow and ice. At some point during past ice ages it probably was.

The next phase of the climb involved crossing the snow field to reach the bottom of the pinnacle. Here I had a problem. I didn't know which pinnacle was the highest. I had brought some pages copied out of a guide book with me, but much of their route description didn't make sense to me. Access to the peak which looked to be the highest was blocked by bergschrunds (a type of large crevasse). It looked like I could cross a snow bridge over one of the bergschrunds, move through a narrow pass, and get around to the backside of the pinnacle. I was thinking that maybe the backside would offer better options.

After moving through the pass more pinnacles came into view. I was less sure that I had picked the tallest pinnacle now. I decided to stick with the original pinnacle. It didn't matter to me if it really was the summit or not. More slogging through the snow and I got to the base of the pinnacle. What I could see of the pinnacle looked rather technical and exposed. Here, as at the glacier crossing, I had to spend some time convincing (deluding?) myself into believing that it was safe to try the pinnacle. After getting within 100 feet of the top and trying various lines I decided to stop trying. The up climbing itself was not hard for me. My main concern was being able to climb down what I was going up. As with ladders and trees, down climbing is always harder than up climbing. I was carrying no rope so rapelling was not an option. After giving myself a few good scares I decided I had had enough and came down for good. By this time some clouds had moved in and completely obscured the view of the pinnacle. Somehow it made my abandonment of the pinnacle attempt easier to accept. I followed my path back down Snow Dome. On my way down I passed three climbers heading up. They were the only other people I'd seen since leaving camp.

Before reaching the edge of the Blue Glacier I stopped for a while and admired the view. I was at about the same level as the ice falls, where they flowed around some rock spires. It's always hard to convey the sense of scale which these landscapes generate when seen in person. They more than fill your field of view. Their sounds surround you completely. Here a giant sheet of ice fell, I'd guess over 1000 feet, to the Blue Glacier below. Within the flow of ice, and within the ice fall itself, stood giant (at least several hundred feet tall) rock spires. The spires were resistant to the ice's flow, yet over the eons the ice had carved and formed the rock into their current shapes.

Seeing such things makes it pretty clear that people, despite all of our achievements, are still very much at the mercy of good old mother nature. Any city in the world would be wiped off the map by a process of this scale, let alone the scales on which these processes currently operate at in places like Antarctica. The ice is like a giant pencil eraser acting on the surface of the earth. Once the eraser is done you can tell that something has been erased, but there's no clue as to what was there before.

All too soon it was time to start moving again. I noticed fog creeping up the glacier I was about to cross. At some point, while crossing the glacier, I was no longer able to see either edge of the glacier. In every direction there was just ice and fog. It was a bit creepy, kind of like losing sight of shore. It was too bad I had left the compass which the group of engineers I used to manage had given me back at my house. I continued on and reached the far edge. However, I couldn't find the trail back up the rubble pile. I couldn't even find the rubble pile. I zigzagged along the edge of the glacier, first downstream then upstream, at times trying to push further into the rocks. The visibility had gotten worse. A couple of times I had to beat back a sense of panic before I finally found the trail. It turns out I had initially landed just downstream of it. 30 minutes later I was back at camp and the idea of panic seemed silly. The next day I hiked back out the way I had come in.

The van and the modifications worked great. The gas gauge seems to be inaccurate, but not enough to make me fix it. I've decided to go ahead and add an inverter into the secondary power circuit. They're pretty cheap for my wattage needs and they include battery under / overcharging detection and protection circuitry. Of course, the best part is that they allow you to power anything that plugs into a standard wall socket.

I'm off for a couple of days to Crater Lake with a bunch of friends. I think most are biking around the lake. I haven't decided what I'll be doing but there are a lot of options in the area. Jenny has found some good tenants. The lease has been signed. I need to find out about the status of the WRX tomorrow. I expect to be mostly at home for at least the next week or so. Beyond that I can't say.

Vic

Van is ready

2007-08-04T16:38:00.000-07:00

The van is ready for it's first trip. I installed a second battery to power the radio, interior lights, and anything connected to a cigarette lighter. The second battery is charged when the engine is running. I also bought a 12 watt solar cell array to help provide power on the secondary electrical power system. The bike rack has been installed and I figured out a way to connect my iPod to the car stereo. Most importantly, after spending half a day on it, I got a piece of paper which says I can legally drive the van. I still need to make a roof mount for the solar array, but I figure it's time for a trip. I'm going to head up to the Olympic mountains in Washington for a few days.

The house cleaning is going well. I'm to the point where I need to get the garage cleared up so I can store my stuff in there. Jenny Davis (Chris's wife) is doing a good job finding renters. Last I heard there's at least one party who definitely wants it.

The WRX is at the Subaru dealer to get some safety recall stuff fixed. After that it's off for a new windshield. The current one is cracked beyond what I think the legal limits are. I also ordered a new skid plate to replace the current one, which is all bent up. That's my third skid plate on this car.

I'll miss the WRX, especially when I'm puttering up some long steep mountain pass in an overloaded and severely underpowered van. It's a very fun car, especially for the money. Unfortunately it doesn't make sense to let it sit around for a year, so it's got to go. Ann thinks I'm selling it just to have a good excuse to buy a new car in a year.

I'll write another post when I get back from the Olympics.

More van photos here.

Its Friday!

2007-07-31T16:36:00.000-07:00

Well, the time finally came. July 31st, about 4:00 PM. I left work to start a one year leave of absence from my engineering manager job. My plans are to travel western Canada, the US, and Mexico in a VW camper van for several months. I'll be visiting some people and taking plenty of time to wander the great outdoors.

Before I do that there's a few things I need to take care of. The van I'll be using is at my house but I'm making some modifications to it, mostly in the electrical power system. My friend Cliff came by today to do some final soldering work. I should have all the electrical connections complete tomorrow. I haven't burned down the van yet so I think the mods are going well.

The other thing the van needs is a license plate. It's a long story, but as a result of how I acquired the van I don't have the title yet. The lady at the Oregon DMV (Departmet of Motor Vehicles) said I needed a title to get plates or even just to get a temporary permit. However, Oregon's DMV web site said other things would work as well for the purpose of getting a temporary permit. I'm going to try again some time this week.

The last thing I need to do is get my house ready to rent and store my stuff. I've been cleaning up the place slowly over the past month or so. Next on my list is to finish cleaning the bathroom. After that I need to start packing stuff into my garage. While I do this I'm going to go through my stuff and get rid of some things. The plan is to wall off part of the garage and use it to store my things there. I've comitted to leaving the house no later than September 1st so I have all of August to get everything done.

I'll be taking some short trips in the American northwest during August as well. In this part of the world August is one of the nicest months of the year so I figure I should take advantage. Right now it looks like these short trips won't start for about another week. So, I think I'll be pretty focused on the house for the next few days.

Anyhow, that's it for now. By the next posting I should have the van completed and will add photos of it to this site.

Thanks for all the well wishes.

Vic