sad
moment of blog silence for the 11 folks that died on K2 this week, and for the survivors.
Fire! Fire on the Mountain!
This past weekend, I experienced wonder and awe in the presence of Vulcan.
My good climbing buddy Keith, with whom I have summited five Cascade volcanoes, invited me along on a climb of the Mazama Glacier on Mt. Adams. Adams, aka Pa-Toe/Klickitat, is situated directly north across the Columbia River from Mt. Hood (aka Wy-East). Pa-Toe has the second largest eruptive volume (surpassed only by the dazzling Shasta in Northern California) of all the Cascade volcanoes. A story is told that Pa-Toe and Wy-East (two warrior sons of Sahale, the great Spirit) strove for the love of Loowit, a beautiful maiden. Loowit proved indecisive, so the brothers grew restless and joined in battle to win her heart. Cities fell, forests burned, and love begot hate.
My good climbing buddy Keith, with whom I have summited five Cascade volcanoes, invited me along on a climb of the Mazama Glacier on Mt. Adams. Adams, aka Pa-Toe/Klickitat, is situated directly north across the Columbia River from Mt. Hood (aka Wy-East). Pa-Toe has the second largest eruptive volume (surpassed only by the dazzling Shasta in Northern California) of all the Cascade volcanoes. A story is told that Pa-Toe and Wy-East (two warrior sons of Sahale, the great Spirit) strove for the love of Loowit, a beautiful maiden. Loowit proved indecisive, so the brothers grew restless and joined in battle to win her heart. Cities fell, forests burned, and love begot hate.
This saddened Sahale, and he smote the brothers and the maiden for the destruction their romantic struggle created, and their selfish betrayal of their land/people. Even in his punishment, Sahale showed his love for these three, and raised up volcanoes from their bodies where they fell. Wy-East (Hood) lifts his head in pride and gazes on the Maiden Loowit (Helens), who was a gorgeous white-capped cone until the recent eruption, while Pa-toe (Adams), a tender-hearted romantic bends his head in sorrow as he weeps over the outcome of such an event.
The South side of Adams is known for its amazing glissading chutes. The butts of many climbers wear slide chutes into the ice, and allow for amazing fun sliding down the mountain, using ice axe for rudder/brake. We dropped 6,000' in about 2 hours. Now we were close to the base of the glaciers on the South side, and at a loss in what to do. The fire had spread to about 400 acres by this point. over two-hundred foot tall flames were digesting the forest, turning verdant, wet, Doug Firs into match sticks in minutes. If the winds changed, the smoke alone could asphyxiate people waiting on the glacier. Up to this point, we had received no word from below.
Then word came, and the word was crazed. A woman was running up the glacier in a tank-top, Umbros, and running shoes, screaming and wailing about the carnage below. People have been overtaken by the flames. The fire is heading up the mountain. All the vehicles, the camp, and the road have been incinerated. Run for your lives, and now, back up the mountain. So upwards she ran, sliding and wailing. She was filled with the most supreme panic I have ever seen.
How to digest this? Did she just flip out? Did she get away from a growing inferno that had taken her friends? Why was she wearing such gear, with no supplies, running up the glacier? Should we climb back up? The only way to get out, and get out quick, was to head directly toward the fire. Deep breath.
This was a big situation. But it also swept away my fell mood. Death was a real possibility if something weird happened. We had extra food, but knew that unless we went towards the flames, we might have to bivouac on the glacier again, subject to changing winds and other threats. I had no control over the fire, but had a lot of control over myself. Get tactical. What would Man vs. Wild do? Probably something rash.
On that note, Keith made it clear that he was going to run ahead and search for a ranger. And so he went, running down the glacier towards the fire. We tried getting in touch with Search and Rescue and local Rangers, but only were able to get through to 911. No real good answers, but we were encouraged to head down to the RTM Trail and find a ranger. Keith was on the right tip. By now, the fire was over 500 acres and spreading. So beautiful, and terrible as the dawn. So we faced this forest of Sudden Flame, this Eryn Bragollach. Were we to fall, as Bregolas? Or flee as Finrod? Or to carry on, but suffer greater loss than death as Hurin? Or to sneak by with the skill of brave, brazen Beren?
We headed toward the flame, soon finding a ranger. She was very mellow. The fire was still growing, blocking out the sun from certain angles, visible from Portland and Seattle. The ranger told us that they were now evacuating the campsite, which was not incinerated, and the cars were in fact, unscathed. There were those that resisted the great conflagration, freeing the road of fire, doing back burns, and clearing a closed road for evacuation. We went as quickly as possible down to the camp, jumped into Mike's pickup, and headed down from the mountain. Helicopters carrying water misted us as they flew overhead (I was in the bed of the truck), and the forest told the tale of the inferno: the top two-thirds of many of the trees were incinerated, but the understory was untouched. The fire danced across the canopy in this area of heavy suppression, but the rest of the woods were not so fortunate. The fire had grown to over 600 acres by this point.
We got out and saw the fire from afar, and it was a sight to behold. This massive volcano was dwarfed by the smoke. Flames were visible from miles away. And that woman was still on the mountain, somewhere, spreading panic amongst the host still on the peak.
Heavy. But liberating. And so beautiful.
As of this morning, the fire has spread to over 7,600 acres (~ sq. miles), the biggest fire in the area in decades. The fire is at 18% containment. There are no reported injuries or fatalities, and the cause is assumed to be lightning and beetle-killed timber.
Wonder and awe. Completely incredible. So scary.
Thus it has since been, but the battlefield has not seen the end of death and destruction.
We arrived at Cold Springs Trailhead at the South of Pa-Toe on Saturday morning at about 8 o'clock. We took friend Mike Niemeyer's truck, leaving other vehicles at the ranger station. Taped up our feet, distributed group gear (ropes, pickets, shovels, etc.), and hit the trail. Most folks that climb this peak take the "dog-route" a gentle slope up the glaciers of the South face of the mountain. We cut East where most continue straight up the mountain, and joined the 'Round the Mountain Trail until arriving at the Sunrise camp, where we made our bivouac. Sunrise is at the base of the Mazama Glacier (our intended route) and is flanked by the ridge of wonders. Upon reaching the camp, I set up my bivy sack, ate a little food, and had a heavy but constructive conversation with Loowit, read some Moby Dick, and fell asleep early without the stomach for dinner. This day saw 6 miles of hiking with 2,000 feet of elevation gain. On the way to Sunrise camp on the RTM Trail, one is treated to the beauty of a glacial tarn, and the bluest of blue waters, sweet as can be.
After a surprisingly restful sleep, I awoke with the rest of the group at 3:00 am, packed up gear and gathered on the toe of the Mazama glacier. Put on harnesses, roped up, cramped-on, and started our ascent. At about 5:00 am, on the Eastern spine on the mountain, we noticed a delicate whisp of smoke rising from Cold Springs camp, our only exit route, and the location of our transportation. We could barely make out flames, but the size of the blaze was observably less than an acre. Concerned by the possibility of a wildfire, we tried our best to call rangers via radio and cell, but to no avail. We kept onwards, and upwards.
I passed by the site where I fell into a minor crevasse (up to waist, catching myself) last year. I knew that coming back to this route would be a little heavy, but for other reasons I was in a miserable mood, with a nonstop chatter of stress in my mind. It was good, if slow, climbing. On glacier climbs, there is a magic early morning of shooting stars, dramatic sunrises, crunching of crampons on ice and the rhythmic clank of ice axes.
At around 8:00 am, we reached the false summit of Piker's Peak (11,657'). We could once again see the fire we had last seen as a minor blaze. It had grown exponentially, reaching about 100 acres at this time. A massive column of smoke rose 3 miles high, so large in fact, that lenticular clouds were forming on top of the smoke. The fire was creating/altering weather patterns. The prevailing winds swept the smoke to the East, onto the Yakima Indian Reservation. Still, the fire was right where we knew our camp to be. Camp, and exit route/transportation. Fire planes and helicopters started to drop retardant and water on the inferno to no avail.
For whatever reason (possibly the same, unknown reason that people want to climb mountains in the first place) we headed up to the summit of the volcano after ditching our packs. Hit the summit, saw the amazing views of Rainier, Helens, Baker, Hood, Jefferson, Sisters, Stuart, and other minor peaks in the Northwest. I took a nap. Then we started our descent.
We arrived at Cold Springs Trailhead at the South of Pa-Toe on Saturday morning at about 8 o'clock. We took friend Mike Niemeyer's truck, leaving other vehicles at the ranger station. Taped up our feet, distributed group gear (ropes, pickets, shovels, etc.), and hit the trail. Most folks that climb this peak take the "dog-route" a gentle slope up the glaciers of the South face of the mountain. We cut East where most continue straight up the mountain, and joined the 'Round the Mountain Trail until arriving at the Sunrise camp, where we made our bivouac. Sunrise is at the base of the Mazama Glacier (our intended route) and is flanked by the ridge of wonders. Upon reaching the camp, I set up my bivy sack, ate a little food, and had a heavy but constructive conversation with Loowit, read some Moby Dick, and fell asleep early without the stomach for dinner. This day saw 6 miles of hiking with 2,000 feet of elevation gain. On the way to Sunrise camp on the RTM Trail, one is treated to the beauty of a glacial tarn, and the bluest of blue waters, sweet as can be.
After a surprisingly restful sleep, I awoke with the rest of the group at 3:00 am, packed up gear and gathered on the toe of the Mazama glacier. Put on harnesses, roped up, cramped-on, and started our ascent. At about 5:00 am, on the Eastern spine on the mountain, we noticed a delicate whisp of smoke rising from Cold Springs camp, our only exit route, and the location of our transportation. We could barely make out flames, but the size of the blaze was observably less than an acre. Concerned by the possibility of a wildfire, we tried our best to call rangers via radio and cell, but to no avail. We kept onwards, and upwards.
I passed by the site where I fell into a minor crevasse (up to waist, catching myself) last year. I knew that coming back to this route would be a little heavy, but for other reasons I was in a miserable mood, with a nonstop chatter of stress in my mind. It was good, if slow, climbing. On glacier climbs, there is a magic early morning of shooting stars, dramatic sunrises, crunching of crampons on ice and the rhythmic clank of ice axes.
At around 8:00 am, we reached the false summit of Piker's Peak (11,657'). We could once again see the fire we had last seen as a minor blaze. It had grown exponentially, reaching about 100 acres at this time. A massive column of smoke rose 3 miles high, so large in fact, that lenticular clouds were forming on top of the smoke. The fire was creating/altering weather patterns. The prevailing winds swept the smoke to the East, onto the Yakima Indian Reservation. Still, the fire was right where we knew our camp to be. Camp, and exit route/transportation. Fire planes and helicopters started to drop retardant and water on the inferno to no avail.
For whatever reason (possibly the same, unknown reason that people want to climb mountains in the first place) we headed up to the summit of the volcano after ditching our packs. Hit the summit, saw the amazing views of Rainier, Helens, Baker, Hood, Jefferson, Sisters, Stuart, and other minor peaks in the Northwest. I took a nap. Then we started our descent.
The South side of Adams is known for its amazing glissading chutes. The butts of many climbers wear slide chutes into the ice, and allow for amazing fun sliding down the mountain, using ice axe for rudder/brake. We dropped 6,000' in about 2 hours. Now we were close to the base of the glaciers on the South side, and at a loss in what to do. The fire had spread to about 400 acres by this point. over two-hundred foot tall flames were digesting the forest, turning verdant, wet, Doug Firs into match sticks in minutes. If the winds changed, the smoke alone could asphyxiate people waiting on the glacier. Up to this point, we had received no word from below.
Then word came, and the word was crazed. A woman was running up the glacier in a tank-top, Umbros, and running shoes, screaming and wailing about the carnage below. People have been overtaken by the flames. The fire is heading up the mountain. All the vehicles, the camp, and the road have been incinerated. Run for your lives, and now, back up the mountain. So upwards she ran, sliding and wailing. She was filled with the most supreme panic I have ever seen.
How to digest this? Did she just flip out? Did she get away from a growing inferno that had taken her friends? Why was she wearing such gear, with no supplies, running up the glacier? Should we climb back up? The only way to get out, and get out quick, was to head directly toward the fire. Deep breath.
This was a big situation. But it also swept away my fell mood. Death was a real possibility if something weird happened. We had extra food, but knew that unless we went towards the flames, we might have to bivouac on the glacier again, subject to changing winds and other threats. I had no control over the fire, but had a lot of control over myself. Get tactical. What would Man vs. Wild do? Probably something rash.
On that note, Keith made it clear that he was going to run ahead and search for a ranger. And so he went, running down the glacier towards the fire. We tried getting in touch with Search and Rescue and local Rangers, but only were able to get through to 911. No real good answers, but we were encouraged to head down to the RTM Trail and find a ranger. Keith was on the right tip. By now, the fire was over 500 acres and spreading. So beautiful, and terrible as the dawn. So we faced this forest of Sudden Flame, this Eryn Bragollach. Were we to fall, as Bregolas? Or flee as Finrod? Or to carry on, but suffer greater loss than death as Hurin? Or to sneak by with the skill of brave, brazen Beren?
We headed toward the flame, soon finding a ranger. She was very mellow. The fire was still growing, blocking out the sun from certain angles, visible from Portland and Seattle. The ranger told us that they were now evacuating the campsite, which was not incinerated, and the cars were in fact, unscathed. There were those that resisted the great conflagration, freeing the road of fire, doing back burns, and clearing a closed road for evacuation. We went as quickly as possible down to the camp, jumped into Mike's pickup, and headed down from the mountain. Helicopters carrying water misted us as they flew overhead (I was in the bed of the truck), and the forest told the tale of the inferno: the top two-thirds of many of the trees were incinerated, but the understory was untouched. The fire danced across the canopy in this area of heavy suppression, but the rest of the woods were not so fortunate. The fire had grown to over 600 acres by this point.
We got out and saw the fire from afar, and it was a sight to behold. This massive volcano was dwarfed by the smoke. Flames were visible from miles away. And that woman was still on the mountain, somewhere, spreading panic amongst the host still on the peak.
Heavy. But liberating. And so beautiful.
As of this morning, the fire has spread to over 7,600 acres (~ sq. miles), the biggest fire in the area in decades. The fire is at 18% containment. There are no reported injuries or fatalities, and the cause is assumed to be lightning and beetle-killed timber.
Wonder and awe. Completely incredible. So scary.
Now With More Bragging!
Scott Storch is good at what he does. From new Clipse due later this year. Label drama came to an end.
"Fast Life"
Pusha T:
"I 3D it,
If I say it you can see it,
no red and blue lenses needed"
Terrence McKenna:
"...And in fact, this is what is happening in the psychedelic experience. There we discover, just under the surface of human biological organization, the next level in the organization of language: the ability to generate some kind of acoustical hologram that is manipulated by linguistic intent."
"Fast Life"
Pusha T:
"I 3D it,
If I say it you can see it,
no red and blue lenses needed"
Terrence McKenna:
"...And in fact, this is what is happening in the psychedelic experience. There we discover, just under the surface of human biological organization, the next level in the organization of language: the ability to generate some kind of acoustical hologram that is manipulated by linguistic intent."
Why doesn't anyone talk about Cynthia McKinney?
(A) Green Party Presidential Candidate. I would maybe vote for her. The only candidate so far that has really impressed me. She had a great interview on DNow a while back.
Sum-r-here!
Other cool things!
1.5 yrs ago in Salem, OR, I was at the Humane Society Thrift Store. After rummaging through the bins of used puppies and cats, I found a gas powered compost shredder. Butter. So awesome. Better sleep on it, it is 15 whole dollars. Came back the next day, fucker sold. Why is that implement so cool? Why have I regretted not buying that for over a year? Because it helps you turn out the dankest compost ever. More surface area, quicker decomposition, less smell, finer grade end-product, ability to use things like blackberry canes, chop watermelon rind, bananas, everything. It is just good.
Fast forward to almost today. Got a 2.5 HP electric shredder (almost as pictured):
for $50 off Craig. Shredded the entire compost pile and it lets me sleep easier at night knowing that there are not pieces of straw longer than 1.5 inches. I am so excited about the prospects of even better fertilizer. This compost system here has been better and more productive than any I have had before. I credit Dr. Earth's compost starter, red wigglers from Pistils, turning it every other day, chicken shit, and burdock leaves.
Other conspicuous consumption!
I bought this amazingly pretty Hujsak (Hee-sock) 61 cm bike frame. Retiring my red bike. Feel wierd about it, like I don't really need a new bike. I was taking lovely 30 mile rides in Salem every weekend (not spent climbing) last year, plus a 175 mile trip and that bike served me fine. Its only 5 years old. Built it for $450. I am inspired to sell it for what I can get, while the fixed-gear-backlash is in full swing. I am comforted knowing that all of my bike friends have bought and gone through several bikes in the time of my owning the old red bike. I can treat myself too. Catholic guilt.
Gonna get it powder coated! Yellow! Got some wheels! Brakes! Campy! Fancy! Shooting for keeping costs under $500! The frame builder is cool, high-end, and helpful to this day. It is steel. I love it.
Sterling, would I that you were a Hen.
He's the cutest and sweetest. He mainly likes to perch on your shoulders, nuzzle his face under your ear or hair. This manouvre he must redo often, which makes it sweeter. He also climbs onto you and sleeps in your hoodie pocket, tail-out. Trilling noises. He has my heart, but alas, will be crowing all the time soon. His special chicken breed is Self-Blue Old English.
Today I get to go to Cascade Surplus Electronics in Gresham. Sounds bad for one big reason (greeesh) but I have been ordering from this place since living in Tivoli. Full circle. They have the bomber deals on DPDT stomp switches.
I am seriously considering building a new bike. I found a fancy handmade steel frame on Craigslist. I think it could really be a near-zero investment, selling my old (3 yrs young) bike. The builder is Hujsak (built the bike that broke the bike speed record(+153 mph drafting a race car)), and his new frames are like $1,200+, this dude wants 250. Seems real. Seems weird. Money is the weirdest.
It's been a long time...
Portland rules.
House is so awesome.
Here are a few pictures courtesy of Adam and his big digital camera!
Chicken Coop:
My friend Rachel:
Me and Lady Clucksly:
Our Front Yard. We are continually removing more concrete to plant more food.
Our backyard:
Adam takes good pictures. Jonah takes good stuff.
I went up Mt. Hood with my friend Keith Hill the day before last. It was deep. It was just us two, after leaving a third party on the Palmer Glacier due to insufficient conditioning/experience/etc.
We made such good time. Left the parking lot at 2:15 AM, hit the Hogsback and started up the Pearly Gates variant before the sun was hitting the cauldera. This was my first time with the Pearly Gates. So fun. Crossing the bergschrund was cool. One nice blind corner move with some nasty exposure. THen while making our way up 60 degree ice, we found all the rime ice to dissolve into nothingness and leave us with exposed rock. This led to some very cool mixed climbing (crampons on rock nubbins, stemming against 3 ft wide chute icewalls). Then we topped out at 9 am, with the best weather possible. Ate a cookie, then descended unroped via the Old Chute. I was feeling so fit and confident and coordinated. It was great. Surrender and relaxation and experience.
Since we were heading down so early, we were able to glissade 3/4ths of the way back to the car. This meant over 5,000 vertical feet descended in about 2 hrs. Ideal. (Glissading is just sliding down a glacier on your butt with your ice axe as a rudder/brake).
Here are some highlights.
This is at the top of the Pearly Gates route. Not very good to detail the route, but pretty.
Summit picture with Keith "King of the" Hill. The bulge in my jacket is my very very frozen waterbottle. Or a gun.
Summit Shoutouts!!
Hood Shoutouts from B8D8X9D on Vimeo.
Ken Burns effect Attempt:
Hood Ken Burns Attempt from B8D8X9D on Vimeo.
Thats kindof it for now.
House is so awesome.
Here are a few pictures courtesy of Adam and his big digital camera!
Chicken Coop:
My friend Rachel:
Me and Lady Clucksly:
Our Front Yard. We are continually removing more concrete to plant more food.
Our backyard:
Adam takes good pictures. Jonah takes good stuff.
I went up Mt. Hood with my friend Keith Hill the day before last. It was deep. It was just us two, after leaving a third party on the Palmer Glacier due to insufficient conditioning/experience/etc.
We made such good time. Left the parking lot at 2:15 AM, hit the Hogsback and started up the Pearly Gates variant before the sun was hitting the cauldera. This was my first time with the Pearly Gates. So fun. Crossing the bergschrund was cool. One nice blind corner move with some nasty exposure. THen while making our way up 60 degree ice, we found all the rime ice to dissolve into nothingness and leave us with exposed rock. This led to some very cool mixed climbing (crampons on rock nubbins, stemming against 3 ft wide chute icewalls). Then we topped out at 9 am, with the best weather possible. Ate a cookie, then descended unroped via the Old Chute. I was feeling so fit and confident and coordinated. It was great. Surrender and relaxation and experience.
Since we were heading down so early, we were able to glissade 3/4ths of the way back to the car. This meant over 5,000 vertical feet descended in about 2 hrs. Ideal. (Glissading is just sliding down a glacier on your butt with your ice axe as a rudder/brake).
Here are some highlights.
This is at the top of the Pearly Gates route. Not very good to detail the route, but pretty.
Summit picture with Keith "King of the" Hill. The bulge in my jacket is my very very frozen waterbottle. Or a gun.
Summit Shoutouts!!
Hood Shoutouts from B8D8X9D on Vimeo.
Ken Burns effect Attempt:
Hood Ken Burns Attempt from B8D8X9D on Vimeo.
Thats kindof it for now.