Buffaloes and Cowboys in the Wallowas

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.