Memórias Brasileiras

Antes de conhecido o "ski-mountaineering", estes servir de exemplos de minhas memórias favoritas. Minha vida brasileira, brasileirisma, e minha irmã brasiliera.

Dairy Queen Delight

(Minya Peak - Delta Range - Sep 2009)

Labor Day turned out to be an ice-cream lovers dream. Three days to attempt Institute Peak. A cloud capped Institute encouraged us to set our sights on the ever delightful corniced peak of Minya. The peak was swirled like the tastiest vanilla soft-serve on a hot summer day.
Highlights:

(Orca VW Bug!! - Free Willy's Alaskan Cousin?)

(Glacier camping - in summer requires rock removal)

(Little did we know the peak would soon be cloudy)

(Up, up and away)

(Phooey! Not enough pickets and a CLOUD)

(Kick-stepping our way to the frosty cornice. September snow is incredible!)

(Great views of the Deltas on our way down)

Sunday Slop

Late Season Reminds Me to Make the Best of It
(evening ride after a long Sunday storm - late Aug '09)

Autumnal Arctic

Pipeline Perspective

Languid Light

Muddy Mischief

Juxtaposition

Waterski the Arctic: It just had to be done.
Ben and I successfully waterskied Toolik Lake.
First time in Toolik history.

Friday night: Clear skies and calm water
Air Temp: 60°F (15.5°C)
Water Temp: 60°F (15.5°C)

(in water getting ready)

(whoosh, such fun!)
...
Then we did it again two days later.
Sunday morning: Fresh snow and wind
Air Temp: 25.3°F (-3.7°C)
Water Temp: 55°F (13°C)

(Ben and I limber up)

(whoosh, such slightly colder fun!)

Poetic, is it not?

The Pawn of Your Affection

React, retract...Check.
Like a game of Chess
Was falling in love with you.

The Bishop played the part
Guarded, protected the heart
Strategically shielded the King

Pressured points of persuasion
Titillated with temptation
The Queen took the Knight

"... I did not see it coming," she said.

Checkmate

One Pack of Marlboro Lights Please

I think I'd like to start smoking. With Alaska on fire, I feel like I should at least get a nicotine buzz from all the smoke.

Despite very few wildfires in the Arctic or even within 100 miles of Toolik, we have spent much of the past 2 weeks smothered in smoke.

(click image to see detail)
The yellow indicates area burned. In less than 2 weeks the burn scar across Alaska has increased from 1 million to now 2.5 million acres. Most of the fires are in the interior part of the state. Toolik, which sits 300 miles north of many of the largest fires, has been thick with smoke when the wind blows from the south. Many days our horizon is just a pale blue.

Taken from a time-lapse camera looking out my Toolik office window.
Sunday, Aug 2
Wind direction: N
A rare day of clear skies and clean air.


Monday, Aug 3
Wind direction: S
This is typical of what we get these days.

Liar Liar...Alaska on Fire

Smoke looms over the Tanana River.

This year marks one of the worst wildfire years for Alaska in the past 50 years. Over 1 million acres have burned in the state. The state's largest fire, over 200,000 acres, is burning just 50 miles south of Fairbanks. This pales in comparison to 2004 in which over 5 million acres burned across the state, but it lands in the top 15 worst burn years in the past 50 years. And it's not even August yet.

July 21, 6:30 pm

Fire burns south of Fairbanks

July 22, 7:00pm
Winds shift and Fairbanks disappears.

A Day of Play in the Brooks Range

In the Mood

Dreaming of dancing

In far away places

(Tango w/ Mike on Muldrow Glacier - Denali, 2008)

(Forró w/ William - BBQ, Piracicaba, Brasil 2004)

Post-Processing

Would this be a crime?
To free myself from time
Clear post-processed dates
Promptly from my plate
Linger on the Midnight sun
Awaken deep in freedom
No more stale cold gray
Nothing left to do but play?

Is there another dance?
To boldly take the chance
Abandon responsibilities
For endless possibilities
Letting go of one
Holding on to none
Not needing to define
Would this be a crime?

Três Volcanoes Dance in Loneliness

(Pico de Popocatépetl, Mexico, Dec 2007,
as seen from Pico de Iztaccihuatl)

Canta, veja
Cinder ruptures the lonely
Um, dois, três
Magma smothers all sense
Sozinha, solteria
Eruptions rip heart's core
Bata o congo
Lava intoxicates stimulation
Apaixanda
Volcanic ashes fall to lust
Dança da solidão

(Pico de Orizaba, Mexico, Dec 2007)

Spring Floes-n-Woes

As I recover from my crazy concussion of last week (I have learned that I suffered a Grade III concussion. Not the kind you want to have), the local environment has been underwater and under ice with plenty of folks suffering far worse than I.

Eagle is a small village that will never be the same due to an ice jam in the Yukon River causing major flooding and huge icebergs. My friend Brian was working there for Department of Environmental Conservation, as part of their Haz-Mat crew. Check his blog to hear what it was like on the ground: Mother Nature Flexes Her Muscles.

The local newspaper made a slideshow of what can happen when air temperatures skyrocket to over 70°F for a week straight like they did last week.
Spring Flooding

While we really enjoyed the warm sunshine and amazing warmth (well my friends tell me it was an amazing week - I slept thru it), the rivers have had a hard time managing all of the springmelt.

Selection is Natural, So They Say

Selected as a sacrificial child for the gods
Never to know freedom, only to accept fate,
Trapped as a dolphin caught in a tuna net
Floundering for air, only to drown,
Pinned as a zebra calf taken by the lion
Calling out for help, only to be left behind,
Ensnared as a moose cornered by the wolf pack
Fighting back for life, only to be devoured,
Caged as a songbird that only wants to sing
Singing for hours, only to have wings clipped,
Gated as a branded heifer put to pasture
Grazing for survival, only to be slaughtered,
Tangled as a butterfly wing in a spider web
Fluttering for escape, only to be prey,
Natural selection takes it toll, one has to go.


Selecting to destroy the datalogger
Apr 2009

Office Window

What do you see out your office window?
Here's 2 hr time lapse of what I see.

Geometric Memories

The three-sided summit rises sharp and wily,
Corniced creatures stretch to touch the void,
A stable slope holds from slipping into freedom,
Fresh powder on slab compresses the past,
Footprints kicked w/ silent suffering drift in,
Retraced steps tramp freely on crust,
Traipsing along place, time, moment,
Captured on film and over-exposed,
Always pausing to measure the angle.

Assessing the angles on Triangle Peak (Apr 2009)

TrevO cuts a line up first slope.

My turn to break trail.

Fun w/ the sun.

Corniced creatures thwart the attempt
to reach the three-sided summit.

Denali Fly-By

This just in:
There was a fly-by while we were on Denali - back in May '08.
Click for higher resolution shots.
These show OUR trail and camp!!
What perspective, hard to believe that was me.
WOW!

Driveway Blues

I once submitted a poem to a poetry contest when I was in the first grade. It was about snow. I remember working really hard on it and feeling proud of what I wrote. Of course, it never got published. My mom just called and told me what I wrote:

Snow is white
Snow is bright
Snow flies like a kite
Snow is very light

After spending the past week trying to dig out after the many inches of snowfall we received while I was traveling, all in an attempt to make my driveway drivable, and still not succeeding - after multiple attempts at shoveling, getting my car stuck, digging out my car, re-shoveling, getting my car stuck, digging out my car...I'm thinking perhaps I'd like to retract my original poem to something more like:

Snow is heavy, icy and cold
Poor shovel is too weak and old
To cut through the compacted crust
I give up! The driveway's a bust.


My poor cold car just wants one night in a heated garage.
Yes, is IS another license plate shot.
I DO love license plates :-)
But today, I do NOT love snow :-\

Time Zone Haikus

Now boarding all rows
Fake smiles from attendants
Carry-ons too big

Cram into a seat
A not so tasty napkin
Heads bob, necks stiffen

If only I could
Close my eyes and drift to sleep
What time zone is it?

Linking Falls on an Open Mic

Opportunity chooses the high road,
Perception glances down the low.
A heart of gold plays an open mic
Whetting dreams with spinning delight.
Tune the noisemaker, play the chord,
Quickly now before they find the door.
No ties to bind, no hearts to break,
Keep it simple, only music to make.
Melt the vocals, harmonize into one,
Future’s unknown, but for now its fun.

(pics c/o Dreamerskier)

The approach to Tin Can, seen in foreground (Feb, 2009)

TrevO soaking up the sun

Skins off - time to run, fresh pow made it fun... for some.
I'm the world's worst downhill skier and this was a
pretty tough day for me.

Backcountry tracks show off how to carve a turn.
I chose to link some falls.

Babies!

Oh the silly things we do to our kids...


Little Harry the headless horseman


Eliza the Bee


Spencer the Bunny...is he dead!?!


Morgan the Cavewoman

Gung Hay Fat Choy!

Celebrate the Year of the Ox

Release your wish to the universe

The Heart of the Sourdough

Ed heading down the lone trail.

check out Ed's blog for the real story of what we did:
http://edplumb.blogspot.com/2009/01/caribou-bluff.html


- by Robert Service

There where the mighty mountains bare their fangs unto the moon,
There where the sullen sun-dogs glare in the snow-bright, bitter noon,
And the glacier-glutted streams sweep down at the clarion call of June.

There where the livid tundras keep their tryst with the tranquil snows;
There where the silences are spawned, and the light of hell-fire flows
Into the bowl of the midnight sky, violet, amber and rose.

There where the rapids churn and roar, and ice-floes bellowing run;
Where the tortured, twisted rivers of blood rush to the setting sun --
I've packed my kit and I'm going boys ere another day is done.

I knew it would call, or soon or late, as it calls the whirring wings;
It's olden lure, it's the golden lure, it's the lure of the timeless things,
And to-night, oh, God of the trails untrod, how it whines in my heart-strings!

I'm sick to death of your well-groomed gods, your make believe and your show;
I long for a whiff of bacon and beans, a snug shakedown in the snow;
A trail to break, and a life at stake, and another bout with the foe.

With the raw-ribbed Wild that abhors all life, the Wild that would crush and rend,
I have clinched and closed with the naked North, I have learned to defy and defend;
Shoulder to shoulder we have fought it out -- yet the Wild must win in the end.

I have flouted the Wild. I have followed its lure, fearless, familiar, alone;
By all that the battle means and makes I claim that land for mine own;
Yet the Wild must win, and a day will come when I shall be overthrown.

The when as wolf-dogs fight we've fought, the lean wolf-land and I;
Fought and held till the snow are red under the reeling sky;
Even as lean wolf-dog goes down will I go down and die.

Ed and Skye

Caribou Bluff Cabin - White Mtns

Inspiration

There are certain people in this world that remind you of the power of love, the resiliency of family and the strength found in friendship. One of my closest friend's father has been ravaged with a rare form of lung cancer - has persevered through countless surgeries, radiation and chemical treatments. Despite extreme suffering, spreading tumors, and all the ups and downs this illness offers, this family continues to pull together and lift each other up time and time again. Regardless of treatment, this family has spent celebrations, weddings, and holidays together; sharing each new moment in life.

Centered here is a die hard fan of the Tour-de-France, who only has 1 lung, and his supporters this summer at first annual Tour-de-Family Fun. As you can see he is one tough character. His wife, has such incredible tenacity, positive energy and goodwill, we could all be more like her. Together they keep their hearts open, through it all.

Their daughter ranks as one of the greatest people on this planet. Her accomplishments cannot be listed in such a simple blog. Regardless of her father's condition she has managed to keep it together - including running a first rate research lab at one of the toughest and finest research institutions in the world, taking time to experience places like China and Africa, and even treating herself to a sabbatical in NYC. She can claim the unique distinction of having had a cocktail on ALL seven continents!! She has more frequent flier miles than anyone I know, as she will be on the next plane to WA, to be there for her family whenever they need it. And through it all she still offers me, little ol' me, a supportive hug and the kindest of words on my worst days.

My friend, I love you.
You are truly an AMAZING woman.
You bring a beauty to this world that is unlike anything else.

Warning: Objects Are Closer Than They Appear

Lost in loneliness.
Reflecting back.
Diminishing horizon.
Car ride for one.
An open road.


Illinois or Indiana or maybe even Ohio

Open road in Montana

North thru Alaska - Dalton Hwy.

AK Northslope - Near Imnaviat Creek.

Peru Pics and Potatoes

Lima! Did you know it practically never rains in Lima.


Yes, I do love a good license plate.


Tasty Inca Kola!


Colca Canyon terraces. Some of these were used by the Inca
and civilizations predating Inca reign.


Some of the biggest papayas I've ever tasted.
Mangoes, too ripe for waiting, w/ passion juicy fruit flavors...



Trivia Pursuit tip of the day: The potato originated in Peru!

see the rest at: Peru Pics

Solo in Huaráz

My Christmas present to myself this year was 5 days in Huaráz.
Here are just a few of the special places I got to know.


Towards Laguna de Palcacocha
6,000 m peaks abound!


The Way Inn


Plaza de Armas, Huaráz

In Lima, I met a guy riding a motorbike w/ his friend from Toronto to Ushuaia, Argentina. He had a glorious ride through the Cordillera Blanca Mtn Range - the same mtns I experienced while in Huaráz. Since my camera was nearly out of pictures, I've included his slideshow here to give you more of a taste of what Huaráz region was like. Spectacular countryside, to say the least! Click here for more: Motorcycle ride travel blog

Sicko in Peru

Sicko in Peru,
Oh what to do?
Not feeling well,
The trip from hell,
If only to stop the poo.

Maybe a hug,
Or some great drug,
Would be a remedy,
To this clamity,
Of feeling like a slug.

A Day on the Jack River

(Jack River ski line-up - Dec 2008)

(Headed into the valley)

Jack River be frozen, Jack Ice be slick
Can't wait to make the ice tools stick
No cape today for Christie's still sick.

Three "buff" gals and two hearty dogs
With temps so warm, it ain't no slog
A day so delightful will go on the blog.

Caribou herds, Penny's got 'em retreating
Hold it...Perfect picture for "Season's Greetings"
With Erin, Amy, Penny and Clem not fleeting.

Where's the ice? It must be a trick
Keep on going through all the thick
No climbing today, light wanes too quick.

For December in Alaska short is the wick
On Mother Goose's ice cold candlestick
No worries, next time we'll use the pick.

(Season's Greetings from Erin, Amy, Penny and Clemson)

(Fun little downhill section - wohoo!)

Color Me Softly

We are destined to become,
What we’ve already been,
Moving forward to the past,
Into quiet submission.

Mysteries must be solved,
Everything unknown must be found,
Whodunit, in what room,
With feet and hands bound.

Dreaming of days gone by,
Not believing that we know,
Yesterday’s secrets are tied,
In tragedy, family, quid pro quo.

Ignorance keeps us on life support,
Hungry for greed, stupid bliss,
Anarchy won’t pull the plug.
Never to be held without selfishness.

What do we see,
As the mystery of the young man dies?
Feral visions ravaged with,
Silent screams and cries.

Love is not to prevail,
Compassion lost in reality.
Always apply two coats of paint,
To mask all originality.

Graffiti, tattoos, comic books, cartoons.
Spiderman's web of deception,
Guised as good, computer enhanced,
And air brushed to perfection.

Be good, behave, be bland,
But don’t be bright.
Fear your neighbor, not the rules,
Keep hearts and minds locked tight.

Live without mystery, not without fear,
Obey your mother, read the signs
Ask no questions, only paint by numbers
And stay within the lines.
…
Please color me softly, sparingly.
Let my nascent hue scratch through.



(Katchemak Bay, May 2006)


(Trindade, São Paulo, Brasil, 2004)

Pose like a tree, won't you?

Om is for the amateur, the beginning of all,
Strong in the core, reach back towards the wall,
Don’t kick, just stand with head under heart,
Hold, breathe, align hips and feet, twine like art,
Use your arms, look inside, find focus not ego,
Push in, pull out nothing, and let everything go.

(On my head happy NOT to be packrafting this day - Brooks Range - Aug 29, 2006)

Yoga on the Haul Rd after an oilfield tour, north of Toolik - Aug 6, 2006)

(Mary and I at sunset - Toolik Aug 18, 2007)

Reflections

(Kennicott Glacier Exploration - July 2007)

Stanch rapid whir like a hurricane bursting at the brink of control,
Turn steadiness upside down, with scarcity of sanity or soul.
Swirl the push and pull of remembrances like tug of war,
Manifesting winners and losers, yet never settling the score.

Icy liquid blue soften to translucent sunrise hues,
Scour rippled beginnings, deeply cleansed, anew.

Oh Commander of tender-hearts: one, two, three and then four.
Unleash them beating wildly with only a whisper sent to shore.
Take solace in the back eddy, a pool for the mighty oared,
Reflecting no way back, nor regret, only merciful reward.


(packrafting Saganavirktok River, Northslope - June 2008)