Ice-Ray Visions

California Running

2011-12-03T12:24:00.004-09:00

When Matias told me in August he was going to California in early December to run his first 50 miler - The North Face Challenge (TNF50) - and asked if I wanted to join him, I of course said yes. Lets face it, I couldn’t go and not run, so I, too, picked a distance farther than I’d gone before - the mighty 50K (about 31 miles). After a very busy summer running season and completing the Rim to Rim to Rim in October, continuing to train for a 50K in December was more challenging than I expected. My legs were flat from the Grand Canyon and motivating to run in pre-Thanksgiving record setting cold (lows fell to -44F/C) took nearly as much as energy as completing the run.

We arrived to California eight days before my event. Matias had decided to double up and compete in the Quad Dipsea the week before TNF50. Thus started our outdoorsy excursions in which we sampled the varietals of not just the wines and olive oils of Sonoma Valley but the landscapes of Northern California. First was to enjoy the Dipsea trail, the namesake for the oldest trail race in the US, 101 years old. Touted as “one of the most beautiful courses in the world,” it is a beautiful and grueling 7.4 mile course from Mill Valley through the Muir Woods to Stinson Beach. I enjoyed running support as Matias traversed this historic trail four times.

Dipsea trail gets lush and Women's Champ Cedar commands her lead.

The view down to Stinson Beach.

Among our daytrips to recover from the Quad Dipsea and to prepare for our 50 mile/50K extravaganza, we climbed to the top of wine country and frolicked along a ridge trail lined with Mandrone trees characterized with smooth red bark and twisted branches.

Sweeping views of vineyards from a Madrone lined trail.

After a dizzying drive up Route 1, we unwound by running through the forested trails along the Avenue of the Giants disappearing behind the mighty Redwoods. These ancient colossals can be as old as 2,000 years, grow to heights over 300 ft; they are fire- and insect-resistant and can survive major floods. They are truly marvelous natural wonders.

So big...we even drove through one!

Where's Waldo!?! There you are! Now, careful Waldo, that tree might not go the distance.

Point Reyes was a must as was the beach. During a night of backcountry camping near Point Reyes we relaxed into an ocean sunset behind a beautiful eucalyptus tree. Leaving the fly off the tent, the moon, stars and ocean breeze kissed our salty cheeks all the night.

The wind blows onshore frequently as evidenced by the tree and my hair!

As soft a sunset as I've experienced.

On race day I happily discovered the course routed us through nearly all vegetation types in which we spent the week playing: windswept beaches, dramatic cliffs, coastal chaparral, low mountains, swaths of prairie, live oak woodlands, salt marshes, freshwater wetlands and creeks, and redwood forests. Outstanding!

(no pics from the race - too busy running)

Unlike Alaskan trails to which I am more accustomed, the trails were wide, flat and the steep climbs were moderated with switchbacks preventing the need for power-hiking and forcing us to run the low grade ascents. The 50K felt very much like a marathon and was perfectly scheduled to intersect with the 50 mile for the final 15 miles of our respective runs. I had the fortune of ceding the trail as some of the best of the best Ultra trail runners surged passed me. Talk about inspiring. I do hope someday I can have that kind of strength and fitness. The 2^nd, 3^rd and 4^th place women in the 50 mile caught me along the way. I cheered them and even yelled out – “Teach me how you do that!” I would seriously love to learn.

After this experience, I am ever inspired to set new goals and improve my training. For now, I intend to enjoy a month of mostly skiing and hiking with a bit of running in as mountainous a region as I can find, to decorate an Austrian style Christmas tree, cook good food, and surround myself with the sounds and smells of an Alaskan Christmas. I’ll save the real training for 2012.

R2R2R

2011-10-22T20:23:00.014-08:00

R2R2R or Rim to Rim to Rim is a double crossing of the Grand Canyon by descending the Bright Angel Trail from the south, ascending the north rim via the Kaibab Trail, backtracking down the Kaibab Trail and climbing to the south rim via the S. Kaibab Trail covering 44 miles and climbing 10,200 ft and of course descending 10,200 ft. I had never heard of R2R2R until this year when I noticed an article in Trail Running magazine – also a magazine I’d never heard of either. Two women had just set a new “known fastest time” or KFT (The KFT for Grand Canyon double crossing was improved upon again earlier this month – Nov 2011). Crossing the Grand Canyon sounded crazy to me, especially the times the women were finishing in - around nine hours, and certainly piqued my interest. Serendipitously, after one, of what was a string of marathon effort trail events, some friends mentioned they intended to run the R2R2R in October and I should join them. The timing was too good to be true. It would be five weeks past the Equinox Marathon and I would not only be in Denver the week before the event (great opportunity to do a bit of acclimatizing), but I would also be traveling from Flagstaff to Page, AZ directly following Denver. No better way to see the Grand Canyon than do it in one shot with a few friends.

I thought long and hard about this adventure. Was I tough enough? Would it hurt me? Could I hack it? Would I have to turn back? I was daunted and yet exhilarated to attempt something that only months earlier sounded to me an impossible feat.

How does one train for such an event? I’m not sure one does. I had logged more miles during the summer months than ever before. From late June until mid September I competed in a 15 mile rugged trail race at Granite Tors in the Chena Recreation Area, the 24 mile (or so) Crow Pass Crossing in the Chugach Mountains, a 24 mile Yukon Trail Marathon in Whitehorse, Canada, and the toughest 26.2 miles around, known as the Equinox Marathon in Fairbanks.

After the Equinox Marathon, I squeezed one last 20 mile run, a few 12-15 mile runs and a 3 hour fun run around my old stomping grounds in Minnesota as I traveled all around the lower 48 for two and a half weeks before the R2R2R event.

The day before R2R2R I found myself racing to the Denver Airport in hopes to catch an earlier flight to Flagstaff and get a real night’s sleep before the event. Attempting to fly standby only left me sprawled out on the carpeted floor of the Denver Airport for 4 hours while I awaited my originally scheduled flight. My nerves worked themselves up so much I seriously considered abandoning the attempt all together. “This is crazy. I should bail. I shouldn’t do it.” I called Matias, my resource for ultra-running and someone in my life who seems to understand that I choose things bigger than me because somewhere in me I know I am up to the challenge. He reassured me. I had logged the miles. I had done the work. I’d feel worse if I didn’t try. He was right. It only took 5 minutes to talk me back into doing it. Ok. Game on.

With little real effort up to that point put towards what I would eat on this epic journey, I realized my two bananas and some homemade granola bars from my mom (more on those later) wouldn’t be enough. Aside from the Gu packs, Shotblocks and Powerbars, I needed something "real". I had heard turkey sandwiches worked great, but alas, by the time I hit Flagstaff nary a store would be open, so I was now limited to shopping at the airport. I saw a man walk by with a box of pizza. Pizza! During a layover in Phoenix, I snagged two personal pan sized pizzas from Pizza Hut. After doing my best to swab as much of the oil from them, I scarfed up three-quarters of a pepperoni and packaged up the remaining cheese and pepperoni for breakfast and for trail food.

Fast forward to Flagstaff. At 11 pm, I pointed the rental car north towards the Grand Canyon to an arranged hotel room on the edge of the south rim. At least 10 elk later, a little after 12:30 am, I pulled into Grand Canyon National Park and up to the main entrance of the Bright Angel Lodge. I left my gear in the car and roamed around the grounds frantically searching for the room #. It was on the third floor, but I couldn’t find the staircase. I saw someone and asked how I get upstairs. I was met with a puzzled look and a reply of “there isn’t an upstairs.” What? Oh no. “Well, is there a hotel around here that would have a third floor?” The man nodded and pointed me in the right direction. We were staying at El Tovar, not the Bright Angel Lodge. Completely stressed and fearing the wasted precious moments of rest, I raced around the drive, passed an elk as oncoming traffic and reached the correct hotel. I grabbed only what I needed, plus my bag full of pizza and dashed upstairs. The door was cracked, I snuck in with muted headlamp and into the bathroom, where I adorned my running clothes, organized my pack, and set everything exactly as I needed it in case I was delirious after only 3 hours of sleep. Finally I slid onto the floor where a bed had been left for me. Rest found me and when my iPhone alarm quacked the duck at 4 am, I popped up already dressed and felt oddly refreshed.

A cup of coffee, a piece of cold cheese pizza, a cold fried egg peeled off of a bagel sandwich and a banana later, I was ready to go.

We – Jim, Tab, Butch and myself – headed out the door at 5 am exactly and reached the Bright Angel Trailhead 9 minutes later. I was a complete bundle of nerves. How do we pace for this? Will we stay together? Will I be too slow? I decided the best position for me was to trail the slowest person and save something for the return trip. The descent was dark with a sky lit by only stars.

Dust kicked up by our sneakers coated everything in a dark red color. Stopping to pee, Jim nearly freaked out thinking he had peed blood, only to realize it was just the color of the soil. Down and down we went, slow and methodical and I was happy for that. The day dawned as we reached Indian Gardens. Feeling great and relieved that the pace seemed right on target for what I could handle, we reached the Colorado River and stopped for a bite of real food. The boys all downed a burrito of sorts – with beans, hummus, bacon and olives. I pulled out a piece of airport pizza. A duo from Canada with matching backpacks caught us. We had seen their headlamps descending earlier. We played leap frog with them up to the North Rim. They thought they had traveled far from Canada, until we told them we were from Alaska.

Phantom Ranch was nothing like I expected. It was, well, a ranch. I expected something more upscale, not too sure why, but was happy to see it’s simplicity. We re-upped on water and Butch made a phone call to his wife, mainly because there was a pay phone and he could. The mood remained jovial and lighthearted.

Off to the North Rim. I had no idea what to expect from this trail. How steep would it be? Would it be runnable? Happily the first few miles were a low angle uphill on a wide easily runnable trail through a steep narrow canyon following a river. Absolutely gorgeous. We nearly ran into a deer and two fawns. By this point we encountered a few other groups and I was surprised by the popularity of the event. Since most of my running events take place in Alaska, I was unaccustomed to seeing other people on the route. I presumed we’d be the only ones out there attempting the double crossing. Naïve. We encountered probably 20-30 people going for the double crossing that day – maybe even more.

As the steep canyon opened up into a large wide valley with sweeping views on the multi-layered and seemingly endless canyon looming above us, I spied a steady stream of people headed our way. What the? I couldn’t believe the sheer number of people hiking down. Amazing. Come to find out this was not a regular occurrence in the GC, but rather, 300 people from Phoenix had been bussed in that day to hike north to south. Aside from the hassle of maneuvering around the oncoming traffic, I found their numbers exhilarating and distracting. The terrain was truly runnable and I pleasantly felt strong and capable.

I held a steady and solid third place in our group. Still worried about a second half bonk, I slowed my pace to keep the fourth in our team in sight rather than pull away with the other two. Once passed the caretaker’s house, the trail steepened and the shade of the early morning was replaced with scorching sunlight. I paused to gaze at a long streaming waterfall across the valley and to look back for my running mate. Eventually, my pace slowed and I began to walk. A very springy and lively couple passed me as we switched back higher and higher. I was impressed with their speed. I tried to push the pace to keep up with my new competition, but that didn’t last long and I found myself stopped waiting for my teammate to catch up.

I had done little research on this route and did not know how much farther the route would go. There was still the return trip to consider. Tab and I would climb our way to the North Rim together, sweating and panting. A water-stop about two miles from the top revealed a series of serious R2R2R runners. I was awed at their strength, their good humor and that many of them knew each other. A Russian woman sat waiting for her husband, who was a bit slow that day (mind you they were already on their back as we were still heading out) remarked how despite not having run in the past four months, "Endurance is easy, it’s just a matter of taking care of your body." Her words struck me. Onward and upward. Finally the trail flattened enough to prompt a slow jog and finally I reached the North Rim in about seven hours and thirty minutes. Now, all we had to do was go back!

Fifteen minutes to down pizza, banana and mom’s homemade granola bars and we were headed back. Tab was looking a little rough around the edges, but seemed in good spirits. So downward we headed. Running down was fun and easy for me. It was thirteen or fourteen miles of bliss, with all of it runnable. Again, I slowed my pace to keep my teammate in sight. I found myself alone for long stretches and with a low angle downhill it was easy to take in all the sights I missed on the way up. I couldn’t help but marvel the true awesomeness of my surroundings.

As we passed the Cottonwood Campground, someone called out asking if we were the Alaska crew. Can’t seem to go anywhere these days without running into someone I know from the state. Sure enough a friend of mine, or perhaps an acquaintance you could say, was out with a group of friends backpacking through the canyon. What a treat!

The final miles before Phantom Ranch seemed long with anticipation. I found myself reenergized as I passed back through the narrow canyon and eventually onto the sandy trails of the Phantom Ranch. I waited for Tab and as he approached the ranch, he walked, slowly and looked spent. We sat for about 20 minutes working food into him, refilling water. Low grade dehydration had set in, shutting down his stomach and appetite and leaving us with no other option than to walk ourselves up and out of the big ditch, no matter how long it would take. I was feeling in good spirits and attempted to temper myself so as not to be a drain on my companion. The slower pace allowed me to breathe in the Colorado River, marvel in the way the late afternoon sun ignited the tops of the canyon walls, and savor the smells and sounds of the deep canyon.

We passed over black bridge and headed up the South Kaibab Trail. I kept a few 100 yards head of my teammate, just far enough ahead in hopes to keep him moving, but not so far as to become intangible. As dark set in, the prudent thing to do was to climb out together, walking as one. So I stopped and waited. We spent the final two hours walking quietly in the dark, with no sense of where the trail went, save for a headlamp glow off in the distance from time to time. My teammate continued to plod along, sipping water and even managing a small bite of a sacred Snickers bar I’d been saving for just the right moment.

The pace was slow, my legs were tired and my mind drifted to the clock. I spent a lot of time wondering how long it would take and found as fatigue settled in so did frustration with the never-ending trail. When I become completely exhausted, I find I can lose myself by counting. Once I counted the footsteps it took me between pieces of litter while backpacking through excruciating heat of the Baja Peninsula. To combat myself and negative thoughts, I counted…footsteps between switchbacks, lights up ahead, stars in the sky, anything to help occupy my mind.

Finally, as the trail steepened and turned into what seemed like endless switchbacks, it unexpectedly stopped and we were at the top. I stood, a little stunned, comprehending the finality. The trail ended, we were done. A jubilant moment was passed between us and then I quickly transitioned into motion to get us back to the hotel. At nearly 7:30 pm and fifteen and a half hours since we began our adventure, we finished! The trailhead for the S. Kaibab Trail is two miles from the hotel, as easy walk under normal circumstances. The shuttle buses stopped running earlier in the day. Tab was nearing hypothermia and cooling off quickly. With one bar on the cellphone we squeaked off a few rescue texts and shortly our friends Amber and Kelly – who opted for their own version of an epic day of running from south rim to river to back up the south rim – picked us up. A warm car was the best sight indeed!

The cold beer soon after never tasted so sweet.

Due to logistics, the celebration only lasted long enough to drink a beer and share a smile with my teammates. We parted ways, as the group was headed south to Sedona to recover and I had to be to Page, to the north, the next day. I stumbled into a hotel in the sleepy town just outside the park, planning the meal I would eat, only to learn the hotel restaurant had closed 10 minutes earlier. The receptionist offered up a McDonalds just next door, but that oddly enough seemed too far to walk. I skipped dinner, ate my last piece of airport pizza, took a bath and slept fitfully. The following morning, I was planning my celebratory breakfast and oh how I would feast. I walked downstairs, loaded up my car and went back to the hotel restaurant, only to find out they stopped serving breakfast twenty minutes earlier. Low on calories and exhausted, I nearly cried on the spot. Eventually I found a hole in the wall coffee shop run by a Spanish speaking man with Mexican music blaring in the background, who upon my order of eggs, toast and coffee, forgot to make me my coffee until I reminded him. Needless to say, my post R2R2R celebration was a bit lacking.

On the drive to Page that morning, I opted to drive back through the Park and along the rim. I stopped like any normal tourist and got out, took pictures, read the informational placards and marveled at the enormity of it all. I hiked back to the S. Kaibab trailhead, as I wanted to see it in the light of day. I wanted to stand at the top and look down and see what we had climbed out the previous night. It was gratifying to look out across the great divide with legs aching and mind tired. I decided my mother should market her homemade granola bars and they should be coined: Roxanne’s R2R2R Bars – baked with love to carry you through.

Hard to comprehend that yet again I accomplished my goal, overcame the suffering and finished with a bit of grace and a good attitude. I will forever be in awe of those that race the distance and cannot help but wonder if one day I’ll be back and be faster than ever.

Vitamin D

2011-01-03T22:12:00.003-09:00

On a Christmas drive to Anchorage I ran into an old friend.

Sunday at the Trailshelter

2010-12-12T10:39:00.000-09:00

I had the great fortune to spend some time catching up on news from 2007 & 2008 - papers left behind for firestarter, splitting wood, preparing food from the heat of a woodstove, melting snow for water and watching the sun and moon pass along the sky. With ever decreasing air temperatures (bottoming out at -43F) and increasing spirit - I found a day alone at the Trailshelter to be just the kind of day I'd been longing for.

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When the mercury cannot rise above thirty five below,

And breaking trail is thwarted by scorched blazes of a summer's wildfire,

There's a little hut offering sanctuary to the wayward skier,

That tenders quiet contemplation as frost melts from frozen lashes,

And serves a pastel sorbet evening sunset.

Just another long weekend in the White Mountains Recreation Area.

Running into Grace

2010-10-31T23:22:00.012-08:00

(big smiles after my first win - Harder'n Hell 1/2 - Oct 2010)

If I run another race,
Will I gain another Grace?
To keep a soulful smile
On a tired but happy face?

(real tears after finishing 8th in Equinox, Sep 2010 - copyright: Daily NewsMiner, Fairbanks, AK 2010)

Love the DOWN!

2010-08-19T18:02:00.005-08:00

(Brooks Range, August 2010)

A Midsummer Night's Dream

2010-07-14T18:37:00.010-08:00

How now, spirit! whither wander you?

Over hill, over dale,
Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,
Thorough flood, thorough fire,
I do wander everywhere.

The course of true love never did run smooth.

O hell! to choose love by another's eyes.

Swift as a shadow, short as any dream;
Brief as the lightning in the collied night,
That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth,
And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!'

(The view from Matanuska Peak as not yet seen by thine eyes)

My Next Life

2010-07-08T00:17:00.001-08:00

(Dall sheep dot mountain ridge - Brooks Range, 2009)

In the 3rd grade my favorite animal was the dog - specifically the Chow Chow. I would check out books from the library and flip through the pictures pretending to have a dog of my own. I still love dogs. By the 5th grade I had fallen in love with the elephant - to this day I don't know why. As I moved into junior high my interest turned passionately towards the oceans and I was all about whales, until of course I discovered the manatee.

If you had asked me what animal I wanted to be in my next life, I would have said a whale - for they swam the oceans and many varieties cover incredible distances in any given year. They are adventurous, social and huge, yet graceful creatures. This all changed when I moved to Alaska where I was introduced to the mountains. I had never seen such wonderful landscapes before, nor dall sheep. On a hike through the Brooks Range my first summer here I was asked what animal I would be reincarnated as, and I knew my ocean days had washed ashore, for I wanted to come back as a dall sheep. They spend their days wandering some of the most remote and incredible ridges, they frolic in gorgeous mountain valleys snacking on avens and sipping the freshest water around. They even winter in the mountains. I don't know how they do it, but they subsist on the high slopes year-round. Incredible, agile, hardy, wonderful creatures they are.

This summer, my first summer south of the Arctic Circle in 5 years has opened my eyes to a new way to enjoy the mountains I so dearly love - mountain running. Apparently people like to run up mountains and through mountains for fun - fantastic! Why didn't I know about this sooner? The idea was first presented to me in Born to Run by Christopher McDougall. It's a great book and all about people that run in the mountains (ok, it is about so much more, but you'll have to read it to fully appreciate it). From the book I learned people have been running through the backcountry, up and over mountains for...well forever. For some reason I never thought about this before, and as with many things, I'm behind the times. To make matters even better, Alaskans like to do this too.

There is a group called the Alaska Mountain Runners and a running series in the Chugach mountain range, near Anchorage, with races specifically geared at running up and sometimes running back down mountains. I couldn't let something this wonderful go untried, so I competed in my first mountain running event in early June. It was an all uphill battle of some 3,500 ft of elevation in something like 4 miles. I had no idea what I was doing, but I loved every single grueling minute of it. I haven't breathed so hard since being at altitude on Denali (nor have I moved so slow!). I was on all fours scrambling through steepest terrain and by the time I had climbed high enough to be above treeline I sneaked views as I attempted to "powerhike" like the others to the top. I am sure my powerhiking looked more like slow motion walking, to the extent that the very humble and encouraging winner of that race, Matias, gave me some coaching on his way down. My response was to scowl at him, like the"know-it-all" gal that I can sometimes be. When the winner of the race offers some helpful pointers, one should never scoff, but rather gratefully smile and immediately put into motion whatever was suggested. I digress...the race sealed the deal. I love mountain running. Since then I have spent every possible moment putting the words of wisdom the winner gave me that day into practice. I powerhike up everything in sight and more importantly I am learning how to run downhill. As long as I get to the top, the real key is to get back down, efficiently and fast, which requires a lot of practice, and some incredible leg muscles. I've decided to compete in a race on a more grandiose scale at the end of month and I am training like crazy to figure it all out. I certainly have found my latest passion and obsession.

While on a training run on Mt. Healy, a small peak 2 hrs south of Fairbanks, aka: Flatbanks, I had an epiphany. With a liter of water on my back and sneakers on my feet, I set off in the rain, feeling light and free. It took me under 3 hrs to get back to my car - pretty speedy for this elephant/whale/manatee wanna-be. While I frolicked and absorbed not only the rain, but the intermittent view of the valleys below, it struck me that mountain running just might be my opportunity to experience a little of my next life - now. If I work hard enough, I just might get to be the dall sheep that I've been dreaming to be.

Solstice Saturation

2010-06-21T14:34:00.004-08:00

A little solstice plant.
Replenishment.
The roseroot.

Roseroot: Grows in cold regions - Improves mood - Alleviates depression - Reduces fatigue

If I had known of the therapeutic powers of Rhodiola rosea, I would have indulged. It may have brightened my mood. A soggy solstice trip cut short: driving up river beds next to gold mines allowed us access to areas unknown, damp down sleeping bags, packrafting under stormy skies, hitchhiking in a car already too full, a 6 hr power nap in the front seat waiting for gas. Four days of ... what? A saturated sour solstice soiree. I felt let down with expectations set too high. Will I ever learn? Perhaps next time I'll remember to replenish in the little things, like the roseroot.

Pastel de Carne

2010-06-03T20:03:00.006-08:00

Este post é para Zé Mauro, meu ultimo amigo. Sinto saudades de você.

Zé Mauro.

I remember the day we met sitting at a round table at ESALQ, jeans jacket, white t-shirt. Little did I know he was about to become one of my closest friends.

His favorite saying was, "Aw, Come On!"

He called me "menina" and "my friend".

He hated to see me cry and told me that anyone with blue eyes was not allowed to cry, only brown eyes are allowed this luxury. Brown eyes are ugly, but blue eyes, they are SO beautiful they could never experience sorrow. I cried a lot when I lived in Brazil. I often felt quite alone because of the language - a language I love dearly but struggled so much with. But Zé Mauro was there to cheer me up.

We had a pact. He would speak only English to me and I only Portuguese to him. He always made me do the ordering when we were in public, he would make me talk on the phone (that was so hard!).

He went to lunch with me, the movies, to a book signing, my birthday party, dancing, even out on a Friday night to play Yahtzee and eat pastel de carne. He made me feel so welcomed, he was my friend.

He IS a heart of gold.

Recently my friend married the woman of his dreams. A woman from his town, where they have bought land next to the Amazon River. A woman that is drop dead gorgeous and has a smile that instantly puts you at ease, such a lovely woman. Soon he will become a professor at the university in Santarém, a dream come true. He and his wife will build a house on their land and he will be reunited with his family.

Family is the most important thing in life to Zé Mauro. He has never understood how I can live so far from my family and I have given up trying to explain to him what my Alaskan life gives me. He chides me every time we talk because I'm too alone, too independent, too far away.

Zé Mauro - I love you. You are so beautiful and I am so excited to see you complete your PhD and head back home. I know I am a terrible friend and I do not call, I do not write, and I still have not come back to visit. But I have kept everything you have ever shared with me.

Your kindness, friendship, compassion, and chiding have filled my heart with only the kind of warmth the hot Brazilian sun can bring.

Saudades meu bem. Um beijão.

Trinken wir einen Stampl?

2010-05-22T16:13:00.005-08:00

The perfect way to celebrate a birthday:
Start the day at 6:30 am for Sourdough Sams breakfast w/ Cody & Amy (NOTE: if you get there at 0630, you don't have to stand in line).
Leave Cody to spend day baking, cooking, preparing a party while Amy and I venture on (2nd NOTE: Amy has the best husband-to-be EVER!).

Load, bikes, packrafts, pfds, and head out to Angel Rocks Trailhead for another incredible Doublemint Twin adventure.

Hike 12 miles along a gorgeous alpine trail stopping to admire the spring flowers and bask in the warmth of the sun.

Take a hidden turn down a winter trail - it's so easy and delightful!

Take a right, then the left to avoid the bushwack and pop out exactly at the Middle Fork of the Chena - yahoo!!

Blow up the packrafts, put away the camera, forget to capture packrafts in action and enjoy 2 hrs of easy paddling. Take out at mile 43 Chena Hot Springs Road & package up the rafts.

Hop on bikes for the final 6 miles back to the car, find the rhythm of the road to quickly pass the miles.

Top it all off with "dee-lish" finger food Cody style, great friends, sweet and tasty Birthday Schnaps and of course a trip through the birthday spanking machine!!

These were just a few highlights of a perfect, easy, nonstop day of companionship, fresh air, a wee bit of adventure and mouthwatering food. Certainly the perfect way to spend a birthday.

Season of Summits

2010-04-28T16:12:00.008-08:00

Three for three

(stopping atop the OBrien Icefall on a perfect 10 evening)

Kicked steps only 4 days after 100 mile ski up Triangle
Single pushed in a quick 12 hours up Item
Improvised ice tools employed to get up Black Cap.

My 2010 mountaineering season, while short, was a blast and a year of reaching out to farther limits. A year of unique experiences on each mountain adventure. Never have I kicked steps from top to bottom of Triangle. It was exhilarating to lead a class of newbies one step at a time.

(kicking steps up steep summit ridge of Triangle)

My first "alpine" style ascent up Item Peak left me tapping the vein of the addiction going fast and light can lead to. As winds pounded on myself and Max relentlessly, we moved quick and strong. Side sloping exposed rocks while wearing crampons didn't ravage my ankle as feared. Roped together in winds so strong the rope was held in the air, we were treated with unique views of the Jarvis Glacier and an intermittent glimpse at Silvertip.

(the wind on Item accompanied us every second of the day)

Never have I successfully seen what lies above the OBrien Icefall. Paradise lies there, but don't tell anyone. Black Cap, 9800 ft, by far has been my greatest climb in the Delta Range. A group that has never climbed together before moved quickly and efficiently. A weather pattern held. Crust did not sog. A can-do attitude pushed us on, despite challenging terrain and lack of proper gear. Using pickets as ice tools, carabiner belay devices, ice bollards for rappelling, we graced the top of Black Cap and witnessed views of the Deltas only dreamed of before. Endless daylight and a stable snowpack made for a glorious descent. Views of the Wrangells were had. A magical weekend that will stay with me for many months to come.

(rapping off an ice bollard on the descent of Black Cap)

It is with sweet bitter that I bid the Deltas an "adieu" for 2010. I now set my sights on enjoying my first summer in Alaska below the Arctic Circle. Basil gardens, bike rides, training runs up Moose Mtn, and a sub 4 hr Equinox are among my new aspirations.

Wizard of OTZ

2010-04-06T19:58:00.005-08:00

Incognito in Kotzebue:

Kotzebue is a Native Village of roughly 3,000 people in the western arctic that lives on a gravel spit. I traveled there recently in route to do a few days of field work on the Agashoshak River, a beautiful little spot in the western Brooks Range. It was a week of new experiences - snowmachining to work, camping in an arctic oven equipped with a travel wood stove and all, and witnessing a small piece of native village life.

My trip also included an unexpected flight to three small villages: Ambler, Kobuk and Shungnak. My first flight in a Caravan. A delivery of lots and lots of soda and a few passengers, including a girl that was medi-vac-ed out earlier that week and a State Trooper who rode along so we could pick up a "perp" in hand-cuffs at Shungnak. It was a pretty full village experience.

White Mountains 100

2010-04-03T16:08:00.020-08:00

Over 7,000 ft of elevation gain.
100 miles through the Alaskan wilderness.
50 participants - skis, bikes, feet.
40 final miles of "can only get down gu" with an appetite non-existent.
29 hrs of nearly continuous motion.
1 amazing accomplishment, for after a winter of suffering from lasting effects of a head-injury and a nasty sprained ankle completing this race meant more to me than this blog can express.
Even my employer got in on the action - made a generous donation and wrote a wonderful pre-race piece on me: March Madness

Start line: 8am Sunday - bikers line up in the lead, ready to take off. The trail was definitely best suited for biking this year. But next year, who knows what will lie in store. I thought my days of competing were over, but the competitor in me was definitely awakened along the race course. I look forward to challenging my body in a whole new way next year.

Me approaching checkpoint #1. My strategy was to attempt a single push - no sleeping. I started slow, running in 47th place for the first 40 miles, but then I remained steady throughout the rest of the race and improved my rankings with each 20 mile section. My longest period spent off the skis was at the 80 mile checkpoint - 1 hr 10 min. Somehow I was encouraged to keep pushing on, despite watching many other races pull out the sleeping bags and sleep. I felt capable - enough - the whole time - despite many aches/pains/worries - would the single push prove to be a fatal rookie mistake? Somehow, my plan worked and I finished in 33rd place in a surprising 29 hrs and 10 min - a time I never dreamed of accomplishing.

Negotiating the ice lakes. I did this section by headlamp with my friend Ann. The 1.5 mile stretch of overflow proved not to be as difficult as feared. A light coating of snow on much of the ice certainly helped stabilize skis and allowed us to just double-pole along nicely.

A biker rolls on to Windy Gap - mile 60 checkpoint. It was so wonderful to see so many people along the race course all working towards the same goal. The mile 40 and 60 checkpoints went fairly quickly. Mile 40, I was feeling great, scarfed down a baked potato with all the fixings and headed off. By mile 60, I began to tire. I rolled into the checkpoint with friends Ann and Tohru. My appetite apparently stopped somewhere before this checkpoint and it was all I could do to force down the meatball soup. "Meatball Nazi" Dea, despite all her best attempts, couldn't raise my spirits much. I was focused on the decision of whether to push on through the night alone, or sleep a bit. An internal battle raged - should I go or should I stay? Stubbornly, I popped a couple Excedrin, down 2 liters of water, put on the pack and headed out. Hoping the night wouldn't be my downfall.

Darkness descends as I ski through the night. I skied the 20 mile section from mile 60 to 80 alone in the dark. I was unable to eat solid foods, and barely swallowed 3 gu packets in the course of 6 hours. It was a real test of keeping a positive attitude, listening to my body well enough to stay warm, but ignoring all the aches and pains that began to scream with intensity as the darkness waged on. I fell hard on some overflow ice and broke the tip of my ski pole, challenging me that much more for the final 35 miles. My right shoulder cried in pain with each pole stroke, but was temporarily subdued with my new friend Excedrin! I began to hallucinate throughout this section. At one point I saw a tent in the middle of the trail, convinced a racer had set it up and was preparing to spend the night, only to look again, and realize nothing was there. Funny what the mind can do to you. All in all I was really proud of my performance through this stretch. Despite the difficulties I kept it together and never suffered from a major bonk.

6:30am - Monday morning - mile 80. I am frosty from skiing 20 miles through the night. Temps dropped to -20 F, but I survived with no frostbite or cold issues. The volunteers at this checkpoint were as weary as the racers. I managed to down a bowl of ramen, which lifted my spirits to get back out there with the rising sun and push on for the final 20 miles. A section of trail I knew fairly well and hoped would feel fast and be done before I knew it.

Leaving mile 80 at 7:30am - final push. The final 20 miles proved to be the most mentally challenging. I thought the dark would be my hardest leg, but the final push left me anxious for the finish line. Maintaining a frame of mind focused on the present, rather than on the finish proved to be challenging as my body tired with each passing kick. I was tired of the broken ski tip, my legs screamed at me. Only a short stint of skiing alongside Matias, who quickly caught me, brought small reprieve to my misery. A hot water stop at 10 miles to go raised spirits again. Amazing what getting to see friends along the way can do lift any doubts.

Barely a smile left to show relief at seeing 1 mile to go sign. The final 4 miles were by far the hardest for me. Every small incline in relief nearly brought me to tears. I was hallucinating people everywhere, convinced people in front of me were waiting up ahead, ready to ski the final miles together, but as I approached each "friend" they quickly morphed back into a small tree or sign post. My MP3 player quit, so not even Lady Gaga could get me over this hump, it was all up to me. Tired of skiing I would take my skis off and walk uphill. But that proved too slow, the snow conditions were fast and walking seemed to take forever. I begrudgingly put my skis back on and fought for each kick, each bit of glide, ignoring my screaming muscles, my exhausted mind, and my now very very empty stomach. That final mile was such a joy. I glided down the mostly downhill section and smiled a moment to take it all in as I realized my accomplishment!

Finally a chance to lie flat - SO HAPPY! No one expected me to finish so quickly. The friends who were much faster than me had left. The amazing race headquarters gals were all the remained in the parking lot that doubled as the start/finish line. It was an odd feeling. I somehow expected a party, but quickly rechecked my ego and realized that just as the race had been a solo effort, something I did for myself, so the finish was truly something to be enjoyed alone.

The amount of preparation and effort to put on the race was enormous. The volunteers deserve a great round appreciation for all they offered. Many of them stayed awake for more than 40 hrs straight, kept track of us, fed us, cheered us up, let us rest and in the end were the little bit of extra energy that we needed to push through that final mile.

Cheerleading race headquarters - amazing energy.

All the goodies laid out at mile 40. Each checkpoint was well stocked with snacks and some substantial meal item.

The tire-less volunteers of mile 80 checkpoint - people were in rough shape these volunteers really did amazing job to life spirits throughout the night and second morning. These guys along with all the other volunteers were just so incredible. A HUGE THANK YOU!!

And of course the most recognition should go to the two people who turned a simple idea into an amazingly successful reality. Ed and Ann for all their hard work to make the first year of the White Mountains 100 a smashing success. It was an honor to watch them craft the race from scratch, to rally so many wonderful volunteers: people willing to donate time, gear, and effort, and those even willing to take days off of work. What a humbling experience to be a part of. The race itself was amazing, but the pre-race coordination taught me a whole other lesson about the generosity of people.

Oh and the super-sized vanilla milkshake hand delivered by friends Amy and Cody was by far the greatest recovery drink a girl could receive. Thanks for taking care of me!

Sunday Sunrise-Sunset (36 miles thru White Mtns)

2010-02-07T21:15:00.002-09:00

9:30a

1:30p

4:30p

Esguince en el Tobillo

2010-01-17T16:36:00.005-09:00

What to do when you sprain your ankle on the 2nd day of a 3wk Costa Rican vacation:
R. Rest
I. Ice
C. Compress
E. Elevate

Rest in a tent by the ocean

Or in sleepy Tico towns.

Ice w/ wine . Or any cool beverage of choice:
GUANABANA!

Compress while diving w/ reef sharks.

Elevate on the zip-line.

Indulge in therapeutic Poas crater steam.

Elevate on the terrace.

Engage in pool therapy with 'Sam and Serena'.

Ice in freshwater Cascadas!

Hang 10

Soak in "Salt water baths"

Sip the local brew.

Elevate to see the gringo of Cedral: Seth.

Take a deep breath, savor the Guaro and
enjoy the quiet moments of friendship.

Memórias Brasileiras

2009-10-29T23:31:00.005-08:00

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

2009-09-25T11:19:00.004-08:00

(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

2009-09-01T10:06:00.007-08:00

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

2009-08-10T16:25:00.011-08:00

Waterski the Arctic: It just had to be done.
Ben and I successfully waterskied one Arctic Lake.

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

2009-08-05T11:45:00.013-08:00

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

2009-08-04T12:05:00.012-08:00

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

2009-07-22T18:16:00.006-08:00

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

2009-07-12T14:47:00.001-08:00

In the Mood

2009-06-13T13:51:00.014-08:00

Dreaming of dancing

In far away places

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

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

Post-Processing

2009-06-02T23:59:00.012-08:00

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

2009-05-27T20:47:00.013-08:00

(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

2009-05-06T18:04:00.006-08:00

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

2009-04-20T21:22:00.000-08:00

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

2009-04-15T21:45:00.007-08:00

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

Geometric Memories

2009-04-11T12:50:00.015-08:00

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

2009-03-31T17:43:00.008-08:00

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

2009-03-11T11:55:00.008-08:00

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

2009-03-04T21:34:00.009-09:00

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

2009-02-18T08:30:00.010-09:00

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!

2009-02-03T15:46:00.006-09:00

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!

2009-01-26T13:11:00.005-09:00

Celebrate the Year of the Ox

Release your wish to the universe

The Heart of the Sourdough

2009-01-26T11:18:00.012-09:00

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

2009-01-09T11:15:00.011-09:00

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

2009-01-07T13:24:00.021-09:00

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

2009-01-05T13:44:00.010-09:00

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

2008-12-28T14:34:00.009-09:00

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

2008-12-22T02:22:00.004-09:00

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

2008-12-10T09:59:00.012-09:00

(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

2008-12-08T15:32:00.009-09:00

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?

2008-12-05T18:09:00.008-09:00

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

2008-12-05T16:55:00.005-09:00

(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)

A Silverback's Silvertip

2008-12-05T14:17:00.003-09:00

(Silvertip Mtn, Delta Range - Sept 2008)

Rime encrusted steel points,
Settle icy awakenings.
Frail whispers patiently warm,
Crystalline blowing clouds.
Blended vistas framed in gray,
Tear squinting eyes.
Frozen pink valleys divide,
Sight, sound, route.
Precarious, precipitous rock falls,
Crumble, skip, hop.
Clamoring creeks coolly cascade,
Meditative Zen gardens.
Silverback ravaged earthly aromas,
Stain nylon green.

(Flood Creek, Delta Range - Sept 2008)

(Approaching N. Ridge of Michael Creek - Sept 2008)