Woods and Water - Spring Hiking

Today some friends and I headed out into the woods and along the shore of Lake Superior to do some hiking, despite some rather wintery weather! As kind of a parody/tribute of a favorite Blues Brothers quote of mine, I put on my Facebook page: "Its May 16, gusty winds, 32 degrees, its snowing.... and we're going hiking. Hit it!"
The weather may have been less than desirable, but it was still a great day to be out in the woods. Our morning was peppered with snow showers, at times even while the sun was shining! The snowflakes falling in the sunlight looked like little jewels falling from the sky.

After our woods hike, the skies were clearing and it was starting to warm up a little, so we decided to tromp through the woods to a remote part of the Lake Superior shoreline. The hike through the woods to get to the shoreline was quite rough... more like a jungle than anything, and we had to climb over a LOT of downed trees, but once we got to the shoreline the struggle was worth it.

It's Not About the Weather

While we wait for Hurricane Sandy to arrive, I am still finding sand caked on my bike from an earlier rainy, muddy ride. It seems that every time I have ridden this bike so far, it has rained. Of course today, on my inaugural ride with fenders, it is sunny and dry. A friend consoles me by reminding me of the approaching hurricane. Surely I will have the opportunity to test the fenders then. I take the idea seriously and begin to mentally map out a route on some local trails, before realising how utterly insane that is. When the townsfolk are stocking up on canned goods and flashlight batteries, I should probably stay indoors.




With the season marching on toward starker days, I find myself thinking of weather.As cyclists we all tend to have an idea of the "perfect weather" for riding. For some it's the height of summer. For others it's that elusive "60 degrees and sunny, with a mild breeze." A few riders I know prefer cooler temperatures, and some even claim to enjoy rain. I think for me, the biggest revelation has been that, when push comes to shove, I can feel good in almost any weather.






After a recent post describing a rainy ride on dirt roads, a reader wrote:"It's in our nature to want to be comfortable and coddled, but you celebrate the joy of pushing yourself through rain and mud." I felt guilty reading this, because honestly I don't feel as if I am overcoming discomfort or pushing myself when I ride in those kinds of conditions. And I think that is the key to my being able to do it. The secret is to find a way of being comfortable, to just go with it and appreciate the situation for what it is, rather than spending energy on trying to overcome it. Maybe this is just a different way of looking at the same thing, but to me it makes a big difference. Rather than pushing through discomfort, I extract comfort.




Part of it is of course practical considerations. Figuring out how to dress, eat and drink in different conditions. Over the summer I stumbled upon some tricks that enabled me to ride in heat in humidity like I'd never managed to do before. And last winter, I discovered that riding in sub-20 degree temperatures was also very doable with the help of strategic layering. But equally important is the attitude. We have to be curious, interested. We have to want the experience.




What is my idea of perfect riding weather... Probably high 40s to low 50s, with heavily overcast skies. I feel most alive then; the raw energy in the air makes me want to ride faster, further. But in the end, it's not about the weather, but about finding comfort in whatever is thrown at me, about feeling coddled by the beauty of the surrounding landscape.

Angels Landing :: The Overture

Two miles after leaving the trailhead, way down in the valley, you arrive at Scout's Lookout. You've already climbed 1,060 feet, but you know that the “worst” is yet to come. Watching other hikers scale this first portion of the ascent to Angels Landing, you get this sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You notice a few people sitting in front of that big rock. You approach them and ask the question “Did you do it?” No. They went a short ways up but turned back. The trail is too steep. It's scary. I sat there with them for a few minutes, then decided to go on. At the least, I had to try it. Lots of other people have done it. There are chains for safety. Yee gods, chains!

Yes, chains. Thank God! Just grab hold and pull yourself up, someone says. Yeah, right. But I do. And I did. You don't even notice how steep it is or how far down it would be if you slip and fall. Well, not much, anyway. You try not to think about it.

You concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and holding on to that chain as if your life depends on it, because it does. But before you know it you've gotten over the first major obstacle.

Then you see this! And that sinking feeling comes back a hundred-fold. The trail goes up the edge, up the spine of that peak! Another 440 feet in height, in less than half a mile.

The beginning of the end. Doesn't look so bad, but it scared the begeebers out of me!

The view of Lower Zion Canyon is magnificent. I was told it was much nicer from atop Angels Landing though.

I talked to a few people as they came down from the top. “It's not so bad,” they said. “Just take it slow and easy and you'll be okay.” Another said “I'm 73 and I made it, so can you.” “You've already gotten over the worst part.”

But I wasn't so sure. The longer I stayed and looked at it the queasier I got. I wanted to do it, I really did. But doubts can be troubling.

To be continued... Angels Landing :: Interlude

Chinooks, aerial images, Brian Massey & Mizuki Takahashi

The U.S. Army has been spending time with the Mt. Rainier climbing rangers over the past few weeks. On May 22nd, we flew to the mountain and performed hoist and other training missions near Echo Rock, Camp Muir and Camp Schurman. While participating, I was able to shoot some aerial images of the climbing routes. Check out the updated route conditions for new information and photos. Chinook cockpit image taken by David Gottlieb.

The New York Times gave their opinion of Dirk Kempthorne, Secretary of the Interior, and they liked him! The budget outlook for the NPS also sounds good. Of course, time will tell, but it was refreshing to see some positive press.

On a very, very sad and all-too-familiar note, two friends of this blog died climbing on Mt. McKinley last week. Mizuki Takahashi and Brian Massey (both frequented Rainier) fell while traversing high on Denali near the Messner Couloir. The exact details of what caused the accident are unknown; what we do know is that both climbers were well loved in the Pacific Northwest. Mizuki had even contributed reports to our blog last year. I knew her through the solo climbing registration program. Mizuki loved to solo climb the mountain in the winter.

It's been a very rough six months for female alpinists from the Seattle area: Christine Boskoff (owner of Mountain Madness PI), Lara Kellogg (former climbing ranger), and now Mizuki. The loss of these three unique, independent, and amazing women is an emotional setback to many climbers in the region. Our thoughts are with their friends and family. Here is an image that Mizuki contributed to the blog last year.

Acadia :: Another visit to Schoodic Point

Monday, September 17th - - Today was moving day. We were traveling Down East out toward Cobscook Bay and Campobello Island. After a few stops in Ellsworth, and with plenty of time to spare, I decided to stop once again at Schoodic Point. I had checked the tide schedule at the campground and knew it would be high tide at Schoodic about the time I was passing by. Besides, it was yet another beautiful day!




























I had planned to stay for about 30 minutes but enjoyed the sunshine and waves for a full 90 minutes before moving on...

Afternoon Sun over Caribou Falls

Taken last Tuesday during our impromptu 'waterfall tour' down the shore. We stopped at a few different waterfalls that day, but Caribou Falls is always a highlight. Not very many people visit this one compared to many of the other north shore waterfalls, which means that you usually have some time to yourself to enjoy this beautiful drop in the river. We were lucky and got there just as the sun was dropping down behind the trees.

Beartooth Highway

Yesterday I took a break from sorting and deleting photos from my hard drive and decided to follow U.S. Highway 212 from Red Lodge, Montana south into northern Wyoming. This route is also known as the Beartooth Scenic Byway or the Beartooth All-American Road, and, according to an acquaintance, Charles Kuralt put this highway on his list of the top 10 spectacular drives in America. It is also the highest elevation highway in the Northern Rockies. And, it definitely lives up to its reputation!

Looking northeast from Rock Creek Vista Point (elevation 9,190 feet) in the Custer National Forest, Montana. The highway is that ribbon of white way down in the valley.

Looking northwest from Rock Creek Vista Point. The speed limit was 25 mph along this stretch of winding switchbacks that traveled up the south side of the mountains.

The view to the north, a short distance from Rock Creek Vista.

From Rock Creek Vista, the road continued upward and into Wyoming where the peaks were viewed from across wide-open meadows.

Stopping at almost every overlook along the way, I was taken by surprise when I saw this view as the lake was not visible from the road. The wind was quite strong and several times I had to brace myself when a big gust came along.

Taken from near the summit (elevation 10,947 feet at Beartooth Pass) in Wyoming, looking towards the north. It was windy and cold, and the short walk to get this picture was quite exhilarating.