Ian Out There - Southwestern Desert Lands

Exploring Sonora

2012-01-29T14:39:00.000-08:00

Wilderness found

Rarely do I visit a place that gives new meanings to words themselves. Not often do any of us explore a landscape that brings new perspective to concepts previously planted squarely in one's mind. Matter of fact, there are very few places left on this Earth that can truly remind our presently over-electrified minds what wilderness really is. I will call this place Sonora, and I have just returned.

Don't worry about how to get there. Don't go searching all over the Internet for things to do while you're there. Don't busy yourself with maps and menus and matrices, for it is unlikely that any of those things will mean much once you are there. There are directions to this place – though I will not recount them here. And there are further specific place names and road numbers that may help in travel, but that is neither the goal or intent of this essay. Sonora can be found west and then south when traveling from Tucson – 'nuff said.

When we got to our camp in Sonora we were welcomed by our friend Keith, who has essentially taken up an artist in residence at the wild place. Having become infatuated with the wild desert landscape and intricate ecology of sonora and having already explored from his month-long basecamp Keith was a great guide and companion for exploration. We lost ourselves in rivers of lava and wondered through layers of wildflowers as Keith handily expanded upon the subtle ecology and history of the volcanic dreamscape.

Within minutes of stepping from the car we were engulfed by the desert. Ocotillo in full leaf and bloom rose wildly on all sides, hemmed in by black basalt towers and domes. Craters and remnants of craters splashed with winter color created a lunar-like viewscapes to the west, while swirling desert playa dropped away to the east. In every direction was wilderness for as far as the eye could see.

At night, beside the hot mesquite fire, we ate meat from the coals. The desert was quiet and cold and the sky was lit with limitless stars. The dry air made the guitar chords resound brightly and they bounced off the lava backdrop that formed our protected camp. It was the three of us, two dogs, and 200 square miles of desert.

On day two we learned about the craters by walking their long, elegant rims. Rarely is one afforded the privilege of a hike that describes a perfect circle, ending where you began without a step backward. On colorado we found a perfect nature-built trail of rock benches and steps. We weaved through indescribable formations of eroded tuff mixed with colored lava pours and chunky conglomerates. The geology of the place was confusing to the eye and mind, though it was impossible to not make an attempt to make sense of it. I wanted to capture the place with photos that I could share later. I wanted a way to prove that what I was seeing did indeed exist.

We repeated another circle hike in the afternoon, traversing a wide crater rim a mile in diameter. Elegante was dark and ominous, its tone more subdued and somber than colorado had been earlier in the morning. This crater held a secret. Its floor appeared entirely inaccessible, being rimmed with loose basalt cliffs for 360 degrees. Looking into the crater floor was like looking into a time and place before mankind, it was a place before footprints and before trails and before our impacts have scarred a place.

As the sun settled and turned the sky to red we were at the edge of elegante with our backs to the crater floor and our gaze turned west toward the mighty shield volcano that built the place on which we stood. It would been quite a show, watching the unfolding of this grand volcanic place. Just as the desert itself was morphing my mind's definition of wilderness was being rearranged. Sonora, in the last moment of the day's sunlight, was unfolding the definition of wild before me.

The sun set, the moon rose. We were still just three humans and two dogs alone in the desert.

Places

2011-12-14T20:13:00.000-08:00

Places.

Place.

Placed.

Places are best defined by the places nearby.

Our place, in a wild corner of the desert southwest, is more a conglomeration of all the places that we visit throughout our local adventures.

Oracle is a quiet cluster of homes nestled in a high oak-laden canyon at the foot of a mighty granite ridge. Oracle, to us, is also Cochise Stronghold, The Homestead, Peppersauce Canyon, Mt. Lemmon, the Ironwood Desert and all the other places that are just a days drive away.

Our place is a wild collection of towering granite walls, endless catus gardens, limitless sunsets, mystical native forests, remote crags, and desert vistas. Its just a small slice of a very big space . With each adventure we cut off a bigger slice of our place – and in this place its hard not to have another spoonful.

We've placed ourselves in this desert.

Oracle, Arizona

2011-11-03T15:38:00.001-07:00

Bonnie Lake and Fairytale Island

2011-05-17T10:03:00.000-07:00

Why Be Inside

With nearly all the Northwest rivers nearing flood stage it's a good time to get out and explore some lakes. For our last adventure we headed out to Turnbull Wildlife Refuge, a wild section of lakes, sloughs, and puddles that get lost on the map. Overshadowed by the mountains and dense forest to the north this slightly random area southwest of Spokane really surprised us with its rugged terrain and one-of-a-kind island camping. Thanks to Paddle Routes of the Inland Northwest we found our way into Bonnie Lake for the night and were happy we did.

The route to Bonnie is unconventional. The gravel roads that lead you their wind aimlessly through miles of plowed fields. It feels more like your on your way to the Corn Maze rather than a cliff-lined lake. The boat launch is in a place called hole in the ground. It is a slough. Boats coming down from the lake look they are paddling through a dry meadow. The parking is limited, the access rough, and a small handful of unlucky fisherman were the only one we shared it with.

We paddled against the very slight current, through handfuls of songbirds and cattails as the basalt canyon narrowed to meet the lake's outlet. We passed a fascinating and seemingly very rare basalt rock arch. Tucked into a defile cross canyon was a wild waterfall cascading from the plateau. All around us were rims of basalt capped with stately pines. The scenery went from meadow to cliffs in maybe a mile of paddling.

All the while the birds singing loudly and the greening grass beneath the wide-spaced pines contributed to the park-like atmosphere. We paddle into the lake and reach a small spit. The lake opened up to us and further north we could see an island, looking out of place and stuck in its location clogging the lake channel between high cliffs. The sun was setting and we hugged the east shore to take it the last warmth of the day.

Reaching the fairy-tale island we discovered some well used camps. We lit a fire using old fence parts I gathered at the put-in. We drank, ate, and were merry. Osprey and bald eagles visited our island home. The stars were bright, it was a warm night, the fisherman had long gone back down the slough to their trucks. It was easy to forget were maybe an hour from home. With the wildness of the place it was easy to forgot that Spokane was just an hour over the hills.

The oil baron

2011-05-10T00:32:00.000-07:00

The oil baron never gives up. He's always out there looking for black gold.

Mountain biking Spokane

2011-05-08T10:12:00.001-07:00

It's been about a month since the mountain biking season began here in Spokane. With the ski resorts closed for weeks and the spring rain keeping the dust down the miles and miles of Spokane singletrack has been in prime condition. Yet, on any weekday ride I'm likely to see less than a handful of other riders and more likely to be rewarded to riverside trail, old-growth groves, and fantastic views.

While far from a local source on the trail system here, I have been riding tons lately in Spokane, I wanted to share a couple fantastic mountain biking areas. For you locals, and those spring road-trippers I wanna run down some areas I've been loving getting lost in. Spokane's most surprising recreation resource in the massive trail system along the Spokane River. The riding is fast and smooth, intricate, and endless.

Current conditions for Spokane single track mountain bike trails: May 7^{th, 2011.}

Riverside State Park

The mighty maze of well ridden single-track at Riverside is nothing short of perfect right now. These soils are well drained and I've yet to find any trail with substantial amounts of mud. Most trails are just fantastic packed surface or otherwise lightly coated with pine needle mulch. Many downed trees have been cleared in the last two weeks. Flowers are out and the forest is alive and colorful. Deep Creek is running strong and the trail in the creek corridor in gonna get you wet. Ticks are out as well, as the last couple of rides came back with these nasty little beasts. Favorite trail heads: 7-mile junction, Sontag Park.

High Drive

High Drive is exposed and faces south, so I'm sure this place was rideable before I starting riding it in mid-April. This place is warm when the suns out, dress for the summer and not the cool of spring. There are a few muddy trails, but they are mostly confined to the low areas down by the golf course, and the fantastic traverse trails are in great shape. There has clearly been a lot of work put into this built-on-the-side-of-a-cliff area and any rider will hold these outstanding trail builders in high regard. I have a feeling its important to get to these sun-beaten trails before they loosen up as the summer goes on. There are people here, so weekends are not a good bet for faster riders.

Liberty Lake

Liberty Lake's Mica Peak trail system is awesome right now as all the creeks are in full pour and the marshes and backwaters are full of water and thus wildlife. The steep trail connecting the old-growth cedar grove and the BoyScout cabin is washed out in places but goes if your descending and don't mind a carry or three. Most of the single track in the nw corner of the park are heavily mudded and beat to shit by horses. The double-track throughout is full of muddy holes, and over-run by streams. There is meltwater coming from everywhere and thus you're gonna get wet on these trails right now. Snow was encountered just beyond the BoyScout cabin on May 5^th. The waterfalls are fantastic right now.

Beacon Hill / Sekani

So many well-maintained trails. All of them so rideable. This is the place I haven't hit as much as liked. What I did ride was not muddy and just about perfect. Lots of riders in Sekani means the trails are super mountain-bike friendly, if not also real confusing. There are tons of good looking dirt jumps built at the park that I'm afraid of.

Priest Lake

We went up here at the end of May and got pretty shutdown. At the north end of the lake it is full-on snow with slednecks at the parking lots. Lower down at the river and visitor center parking the trails are still not cleared with many down trees and snow patches.

Bring out the canoe

2011-04-13T08:59:00.000-07:00

Bring out the canoe; it's time to go climbing

My car, The Subaru, will not die. So we're trying to use is as hard as we can just for sake of it. Last week we strapped a 17' Grumman to the vintage Yakima rack and drove straight into the wind for two hours. While I did smell burning oil the car seemed unaffected and happy to make the trip.

We were headed for a boat-access granite crag in the heart of Washington. With winter weather in the mountains heading to the Columbia Highlands was our only choice, and with the climbing guide swearing it was granite we just had to check this place out. The road was closed for construction when we got there so we rallied through the sand and grass and launched by carrying along an airport fence. I took a picture of the Gazetteer because we were now attemptimg a "new approach."

Three trips from the car and we were ready to launch. To who ever invented dry bags with backpack straps: I hope you own your own island by now.

Banks Lake was deserted. We saw maybe four fishing boats from afar over the three days we were there. The weather was spotty but rarely did we have a problem with the winds

After feeling are way towards this "granite pennnisula" we found our way into a narrow passage with noisy Canada geese and sandy beaches. I couldn't help think how nice the place would be when it's warm out. There appeared to be lots of climbing to be had in this unnamed corridor but we couldn't find sign of any route development. Nearing the end of the day, we choose to milk the last heat from the sun and make camp. We'd have to find said peninsula tomorrow.

We were lost in a complex mess of granite domes and spits rising unnaturally out of the water. Banks Lake was never a lake, it was filled as part of the Grand Coulee Dam project. Looking at a map you begin to understand 'they flooded the Grand Coulee!'.

We paddled the next morning into an idyllic cove littered with spring flowers and ringed with clean granite outcrops. It did exist. The clouds were swirling around, all dark and nasty. We got one pitch in and they let loose. What more can one ask for of the first climb of the season.

After cowering under a small tarp for hours in 40 degree rain we saw a little break of to the southwest. Then the sun came out in force and we headed for the summit of what the book calls a pinninsula but I am hoping to call something else. Whatever the case it was the tallest granite outcrop sitting above a long inlet called Old Devil's Lake. From there south we had great views of the basalt outcrop call Steamboat. (That's what white people call it anyways, I'm sure this magical island has a native name).

We had found the 'sandy beach camp' and the 'tall white granite face' - no thanks to the maps found within Central Washington Climbs - and also found a wide-selection of freshly bolted granite sport routes just minutes from the lakeside. With the binocs we scoped many mixed lines up the prow of what I believe is Post Modern Wall. With further route development potential and lots of good looking multi-pitch routes we will sure be back to this nice little cove camp - whatever you call it.

Photos: 1)Yes, Michelle did load the canoe all by herself. 2-5) The scenes of Banks Lake

below)The map photo we used throughout the trip.

2011-03-30T15:32:00.000-07:00

Snowmelt makes me dream rivers

Scoured by warm wind and rain the winters snows are melting fast in the mountains around Spokane. In the St. Joe to the east the roads are nothing but mud. In the Selkirks to the north the transition to rain was slow and the highest elevation sit covered in classic snowy cement. Well, this week the snowpack will begin to fill the rivers and streams with meltwater, the sun will come out, and waterways will come alive. There is definitely still snow to ski but I find my mind dreaming up adventures in warmer wild places. Choppy deep green lakes and azure wave trains are just around the seasonal corner – I can feel it.

We'll take a journey similar to that of each water molecule. Leaving the tops of the mountains for the river filled bottom lands and ending up lazyly floating around a lake, blocked by any downstream progress by dams like Albeni and Post Falls. Of course we're lucky enough to be able to easily hop around dams and over entire mountain ranges, clearly our mobility is enough to make any H2O jealous.

The historic and varied waterways that weave through this collection of inland NW ranges are now the top of the map pile. The Pend Oreille and the Coeur 'd Alene are massive drainages that sit east and northeast of Spokane and the sheer amount of water out there beckons summer exploration. Our early spring recon has begun though the drastic dreary weather has kept us scoping rivers from the shore and planning routes the old fashioned way: using maps gleaned from small town bookstores.

The most local rivers are just a start with the most beckoning terrain being further east in Montana. The Yellowstone and the Missouri traverse nearly the entirety of the state, and the sheer density of smaller navigable streams is incomparable to the drier regions we've been exploring for the past years. All in all the canoe is hoping to get a lot of use this summer.

So get on the phone, give a call, and let's plan a trip onto these wild rivers.

2011-02-24T10:56:00.001-08:00

I don't care what anybody says. I love snow.

I'm biased though. Horribly biased, and its getting worse. I think it would be hard for someone to convince me otherwise.

I don't care if it makes driving a nightmare, or that I have to wake up early and shovel off the car. I don't mind when powder drifts into my jacket. Or even when trees drop pillows onto my head. The inconvenience is just a reminder of how fleeting the moment is.

I've been spending a lot of time in the snow. Good snow. Hidden away in the St. Joe Mountains of Northern Idaho thePeak Adventures crew, led by guide and owner Ryan Stanley, have been skiing new lines off a many unnamed ridge. Every run is in fresh high mountain snow. We a fortunate that, by sheer luck of topography, our snow has been protected from the sun and wind. Every track laid down is marking yet another first decent. The eraser comes quick though, as the next storm is already there.

http://www.youtube.com/user/PeakAdventures1#p/a/u/0/l2OFbZDtHBc

I'll let the video tell the true tale.

IanOutThere

2011-01-28T11:22:00.000-08:00

Adventures pour from the hills like cold honey. We are no longer living in the desert and we are surely no longer pedaling our way through another rice paddy. The gray skies on the Inland Northwest rarely give way to warm sun or night sky. Our Kansas has long been the wild west and the exotic continent of Asia and we are definitely no longer there.

But the adventures do come and we happily greet them, with more respect than we did before, knowing our meeting could be fleeting. When the fickle weather picks a side, we're out. Winter rain is stifling, but winter storms are welcome. So are the moments of blue ski sun, those that remind me of red rock and long Mojave days.

In the time between, we plan. Maps, guides, forgotten information buried deep in the web, our own wintery drives to scout for upcoming climbs and floats – these are the reminders of time before Netflix and baseboards and the convenient neighborhood grocers.

Sherman Pass is the highest plowed road in Washington. We go there, to 5,500 feet, to find something exotic, to be reconnected with the many foreign landscapes that pepper our memories. There is a front-end loader in the parking lot, we skin up and ski the power-line swath cut over the pass, the sunset is colorful, log trucks continuously grumble by, the Forest Service bathroom is shoveled out, and apparently it costs $21 to park. We spend the night in the Sno-park lot, huddled low around a fire melting into the snowy dirt lot. If anyone were to show up so late in the lot we would surely look primitive to them – we're getting closer.

The next morning the clear sky gives way to gray and the snow warms to goo. We skin along a well-groomed trail further into the wild land. There has been a big fire on the flanks of Sherman Peak and the logging history is not clearly evident. There are views into the Okanagon and the Selkirks. The log truck's compression brakes echo across the entire valley and the warm snow sticks to our skis and slows us to a crawl. We turn a wide open corner into a small saddle. Snow Peak looms wild and beckons to be skiied. We find an igloo, likely built not long ago, near a well-signed junction and eat lunch out of the wind. We are Eskimos in Kansas.

2011-01-09T14:04:00.000-08:00

These are the telemark ski leashes I've been building. I still have materials for a bunch more so if you need leashes, get a hold of me. Friends of IanOutThere get a discount!

2010-12-18T17:26:00.000-08:00

Here. Now.

Winter met us in Spokane. It was cold, then colder. The mountain got a great start and we skied pow the first week of December. Then it got warm and stayed cloudy. The snow melted and the streets dried out. I went on a bike ride. I thought Spokane might have a secret cloud cover that never went away.

Then the sun came out. We went to the river. No one was there because it was cold. The trails were melted out and there were great blue heron and mallard ducks and beavers.

The swinging bridge above the rapids was sitting in a sliver of winter sun. It was warm and shiny and smelled like old railroad ties. You could feel the cold air coming off the river and mixing awkwardly with the sun warmed pines. Back in the tress, leaving the river, we dodged puddles of black ice, and it was bitter cold. The sun had gone down.

2010-11-18T14:49:00.001-08:00

The end of an era

Now that I'm settling for the winter I can take the time and look back through last seasons photos. IanOutThere came to an end as fast as our free-time summer when work at Naturalists At Large came crashing in from all sides. After a final last hurrah in the Tetons with Alok we made a 18 hour push from Jackson to Ventura to start our fall season. The photos from the season at NAL sum it all up... too busy for much more than work. Looks like I didn't even take my camera out for almost 5 weeks according to the date stamps.

My driving schedule was huge and so were the trips. I spent countless hours on the highway, alone in the cab of a box truck. I made a classic tour of California, including all the regular NAL haunts: Joshua Tree, Mono Lake, Point Reyes, Yuma and the Colorado River, all the while with Ventura in between. The state just seems to get bigger and bigger as the years go by.

I was happy to be part of the core crew on two of NAL's biggest, most logistically insane trips of the year. Highlights include 80 pounds of meatballs, on the river under only stars, and rally-driving overloaded box trucks through the sand. Let's just say supporting 300 people down a wild desert river is not a simple task.

So happy to have explored so many corners of California. The wild west is still wild.

IanOutThere

2010-09-25T08:25:00.000-07:00

Cle elum, Bend, Jackson Hole, Utah, Vegas, Ventura, Point Reyes, Tilden Park, Oakland farmer's market, Ventura,Bishop, Levitt Meadows High Sierra, Mono Lake, Berkely

Why don't I blog about work. probably because I'm too busy driving.

2010-07-31T16:22:00.000-07:00

Back in the Washington Cascades

I've been telling people this: Those Washington Cascades are nothing like ours in Oregon. Yup, the volcanoes are there but the exploded remnants up north are bigger and more glaciated. Squeezed in from all directions throughout those big volcanoes are endless ranges coming from all directions. The approaches are wild with waterfalls and the mountains shoot up into every view. From the dense valleys to the icy summits its a long way up and the trailmakers' favorite tool is the switchback... and once your in the mountains there's granite and andesite and snow and ice to keep one busy for a lifetime.

Well, all this still holds true, and there's more. Yesterday we made a one-day ascent of Mount Daniel's 7,899 foot East Peak. It was our first notable journey into the Central Cascades this summer and we were quickly reminded of the sheer size of the range.

We climbed from 3:30am to the reach the peak by 10am. During the dark hours of the morning we climbed through pitch black forest to reach still ponds reflecting the morning clouds. Mount Stuart and the entire Enchantments sat to the east and we watched them fend off an early morning advance of desert cloud cover to leave us with a fantastic clear route to the summit.

Unfortunately the summer heat was immediately upon is and the snowfields turned to guck at once. We rushed up through the heat to beat the encroaching mountain melt-down. We climbed straight through the morning to make sure we could descend the steep snow before the sun had its full impact. The day was wild and hot and long and gave us a complete view of the many ranges laid out before us.

The Cascades, in their entirety, are all well within striking distance from Harvey Basecamp and from our Mt Daniel summit we saw we had a lot of work to do. I wished to be able to point of the names of each and every peak near and far, and for that, we must climb and explore across the range. Sometimes the only way to pick out and name the mountains in the distance is to have climbed them before. So, ...off we go.

Photos: 1)The view south from Daniel's southeast ridge showing Rainier and Spade and Opal Lakes, 2)Michelle at the summit 3)up the steepest of the snow gullies 4)Mt Daniel East peak and our route

2010-07-29T10:55:00.001-07:00

Middle Sister is surely my favorite peak in the Oregon Cascades. Last weekend, the classic central sister made for a good day in Bend's local range. Eric, Tyler, and I had finally got our shit together, our schedules aligned and we made a midnight rendezvouz in Redmond. The drive through the night is a great part of these adventures, and from when we left Redmond at 3am we past not a single sole on the way to the Pole Creek trailhead.

With record hot temperatures forecasted for the day I was a little worried about the snow stability as the day warmed up. And indeed after returning home we heard of a late afternoon rescue on Hood the previous day. Somehow there are still mountaineers out there that don't understand the dangerous nature of a melting sno-cone. I had set in my head a 'summit-by' time for 11am. Knowing the steep snow step midway on the north ridge may pose a problem after a few hours at these temps we had move along before the inevitable melt-off began.

And move along we did. Stopping briefly and infrequently and keeping our eye on the prize as we blasted up the steep and forested east flanks of Middle Sister. The sun came out abruptly and everything was immediately hot. This was going to be a test of endurance in these temperatures. It reminded me of the Arizona desert – only with the added reflectivity of the snowfileds. Higher onto the mountain a slight breezed picked up and at the col I tossed on my shell and good my helmet and ice axe ready for action. We had very short food supplies between us – we ate the last of the pretzls and fruit snacks (I will pass by the story illuminating how this happen). We happily found the steep snowfield step well travelled with good steps kicked in and now starting to melt into rotten snow. The pitch was short and deposited us on the north shoulder which then relented in steepness, cross another low-angle snowfield, and plopped us onto the small summit.

Views in all directions. A little bit of whining a rejoicing. A sip of water and enjoying the summit breeze. Then reverse down the continually softening snow step and back to the col, which is now seeming like grand central station with a roped party descending, two couples ascending and a few solo hikers departing to the west. I attribute it to the general increase in recreators in Bend lately – the trailheads and notable backcountry areas are clearly seeing increased use (not to mention the Search and Rescue seeing a lot more boneheads lost in the reasonably straightforward Three Sisters Wilderness).

Once off the solar-oven snow fields and down through the thankfully shaded forests we reached the catchtrail heading back north to Pole Creek. The temperatures low on this west flank under scant lodgepole trees were truly opressive. I can recall no other time in Central Oregon where I have felt so blasted by heat and sun – my only comparison to this afternoon come from adventures in Mojave and Colorado desert lands. There is heat that can not be escaped, dry wind that sucks the moisture from your pores, and shade to thin to help. Our final trail miles were as all final trails mountaineering-in-day trips should be: brutal, hot, and way longer than they seemed going in. What a great trip!

2010-07-01T10:32:00.000-07:00

An exploration

An intense month of exploration in Southern Utah's canyon country has come to end. Back in the comfort of the casual Central Oregon landscape I am almost finding time to reflect on the very wild places we have been recently. We explored, I believe, the heart and soul of the mighty Colorado Plateau. We navigated into the most intricate of slickrock mesas and defiles. We descended canyons, made wild by the extreme nature of their terrain and later traversed every two-wheel drive road we could in search of the most open land.

Finally, we made ourselves psuedo-locals in the culturally bizarre small towns of Springdale, Escalante, and Page. The region is completely one-of-a-kind and beautiful, but most importantly, it is still wilderness. It has fought back against the spread of humankind and won. Its rivers have been tamed and exploited and cities continue to expand their tentacle but the harsh life this wilderness promises has helped maintain a wildness in the place.

When we first arrived in Zion on May 15^th the rivers were high and flowing thick with red sand. The desert sun was still tempered by the spring rains and everywhere was exploding with wildflowers. We counted up to fifteen different species in bloom on one trip into the Escalante. The winds were present too. We had read about the tortuous May winds of the desert in a couple of guidebooks but nothing could have prepared us. The desert is an exposed place and a strong wind just adds to the desolation and intensity of the landscape. There was no help from vegetation so you had to turn to the geology for reprieve. It is a rare day when reading the wind on the landscape in needed for your daily comfort and survival. Finding a spot out of the wind does not to prove to be as easy as finding a spot out of the sun for example – having the telltale sign of shade as your guide. With wind it is more subtle, you hike across a wide sand-blown valley to an alcove that looks great and its the windiest place out there. Where there is less wind, the sand drops out of the heavy air and onto you and into your eyes. There is no escaping the wind.

By June the desert was feeling regular again. It was hot, but not unbearable, there were flowers, but only those guarded by canyon walls, and clear, spring-fed streams replaced silty torrents. It was the quality and nature of the watercourses and the water within them that changed the most for us. The amount of silt carried in the creeks seemed to change the colors of the whole canyon. First torrential snow-fed maroon cream, then blue glacier-like pools and iridescent falls, then crystal clear mirror-like pools that reflected the ripples into magical orbs. The combinations of colors and light are infinite in a water-filled desert canyon. After a month of day-to-day experiences within these rare, remote canyons the seasonal variations that changed the entire nature the of the beast became apparent. In Escalante, where water is harder to come by than in Zion, the wildflowers and shrubs seemed to respond to the intensifying summer on a daily basis, tightening up their skins almost before your eyes. Every component of the desert wilderness is invariably teased or shaped by the Earth's most precious resource. Its hard not to notice the immediate and ancient role of running water in the landscapes' creation. We were there too, following its courses downwards towards the all-encompassing Colorado and learning about the coming and going of the land.

Photos: 1)The Waterpocket Fold 2)Descending into Deer Creek, Escalante, 3)Buckskin Gulch, Paria River 4)All the rocks of the desert end up in the ocean

2010-06-19T15:03:00.000-07:00

The dragon came from Escalante. He, or she, lived in a grand slot canyon that entered into the heart of the mighty river. In times past the mighty river flowed strong and thick into the even mightier Colorado. Nowadays it was summer, and 2010, and the once formidiable Escalante now trickled into the cold and narrow lake arm that swallowed it without notice.

In the canyon that he, or she, now resides in, is a Grand Cathedral. The alcove holds a spring and large boulders that have fallen from above. It is surrounded on all sides by towering red walls. The walls fortify and protect dark arches that make up the roof of the alcove. These ledges, dark and wet, make good homes for dragons.

After the rivers ran still and the mightiest Colorado backed up behind the dams the dragon found he, or she, no longer gained the satisfaction from cursing through the long river canyon from sea to mountain crest as he, or she, did when the water flowed strong. With wings wide he, or she, would bank from wall to mighty wall and follow the boisterous froth in its entirety, which was reportedly an easy feat for a dragon. Once the heavy waters stilled, parts of mountains dropped from them to the bottom of the not-so-mighty ponds, and with the settlement came that of the dragon. Clear, cool water now seeped from the bottom edge of the concrete spring and filled the former channel with sharp jumpy water – no place for a dragon regardless.

Its easy to see why he, or she, would pick such a place to settle. The slot would be a good place to hold up for the remaining long life of a dragon. The tourists aren't much of a bother and, for a dragon, the climate in surprisingly mild. The sun there is strong and reassuring and the ferns have many day to day usefulnesses. The canyon is named on maps but the name can not be said here. The dragon wouldn't like it published. He, or she, has asked nicely, and considering all that he, or she, has been through.

2010-06-10T14:46:00.000-07:00

We are in Egpyt

If Zion is adventurous, then Escalante is wild. Escalante Grand-Staircase National Monument was designated with a signature by President Clinton and with that penstroke almost 2 million acres of the most wild country in the nation was set aside to be managed by the BLM. The land has changed little under its new federal designation, though now it has been discovered by adventurers. It is a limitless maze of red and cream sandstone canyons and gulches, slot canyons, 1oo-mile dirt roads, primitive campsites, pictographs and pytroglyphs, springs, creeks, and swimmin' holes. The silty Escalante River is the backbone of the region, collecting the 1,000 year old trickling springs and alpine creeks pouring off the 10,000 foot Aquarius Plateau and delivering them all to the backwaters of the Colorado River forming Lake Powell.

We find ourselves again in the land shaped by the Colorado River. After working for so long canoeing great sections of the lower Colorado River, we feel happily connected to all the water flowing on this grand plateau. For we have seen it further towards the sea and know its future place on the land.

The Escalante is a river, but it is also a place. Though it's not an ordinary place. In the Escalante distance has a way of expanding, water is precious, and the energies of cultures past permeate the land. It's the sort of place you top off your rank and fill up the water jugs before heading out into it. Regular maps will lead to being hot and lost. Compasses become important again. I see it as a wild land, long explored by wild people. 1st the Pueblo and Anazazi, then the Navajo, then the hearty (and most likely crazy as all hell) Mormom pioneers, and now us. Hmm?

We've been driving on rough dirt roads for hours now – haven't seen a soul. We are headed for a desert slickrock bench named Egypt. There we will look for the aptly named Egypt slots. They are a collection on sinuous, miles long slot canyons dropping abruptly south into Twentyfive Mile Wash. We imagine them as damp, shady recesses offering cool routes through the Earth with nary a glimpse at the sky.

We get out of the car again under a hot desert sun. I move rocks, fill holes, get down like a golfer reading the break of the putting green. This is a rough road, it has been rough for hours, and Egypt doesn't seem to be getting any closer. We decide to go for it. The mini-van claws at the gravel and slickrocks. I marvel at its strength in this desert blast-furnace, the engineers back in Japan surely never imagine their Honda Odyssey in these conditions. No one would ever imagine anyone or anything in these conditions. These conditions, this place, can can not be planned for or a machine built for. This wilderness road with not a structure in sight attest to that. We are in Eygpt.

That night we burn a bright, smokeless fire of bone-dry juniper. From our lonely site the desert vista is long, yet there is not another fire or electric light to see. The fire reduces to a smolder and the starlit desert is all ours.

In the morning we pack our bags for the unknown, all the while pounding water and feeling dehydrated. We start down the road, continuing where we left off by van the evening before. A small Toyota truck comes around the corner and it is a weird reminder that other people still inhabit plant Earth. They stop and we climb into the bed of the truck. The road is surprisingly rougher still and we flop around in the back of the truck as its tears at the rubber-smeared slickrock trail. We are in Egypt.

We stand atop the 3rd slot counted from west to east. The landscape below us is another world. Slickrock rules the eye. The sandstone has been swirled and pressed by forces past, then eroded by the sensual yet unforgiving hand of water. There is little vegetation and its hard to focus because of the depth and distance in one frame.

The slot is cool and narrow and dark. The bottom is sand and mud, but the walls are hard and sometimes smooth and sometimes rough. We turn sideways , dragging our backpacks behind us. Michele is having a blast because her shoulders fit through almost every squeeze straight-on. I turn to the side and suck in my stomach. The sandstone is all around us – it is comforting but unnerving at the same time. Water has indeed carved this place; best not to think about the how's and when'snow.

We are blinded and melted as we are spit from the bottom of the slot. There are murky, tannic pools of water that we purify and drink. We are in the desert wilderness. The Toyota truck is long gone, our van (thankfully full of gas and water) is 2000 feet up the slickrock that forms our backdrop.

There are no trails in Egypt. There are no bushes or trees to warrant them. You can walk anywhere. A good map and a compass tells you where to walk. We take a bearing and follow it blindly (like in a snowstorm) up and across the tan, and peach, and maroon ramps of rock. It is afternoon and the sun is at its fullest potential. We weave through patches of cacti and sand; we marvel at our posistion on the land. We begin to call it: open desert. Because that's what it is. No water, no trails, no shade, no people, no informative brochures, no shuttle buses running on propane and bureaucracy. Nope. We are just walking on a bearing of 285 degree NW in open desert. We are in Egypt.

Photos: 1)Michelle plots the course for the day. Egpyt 3 below 2)They don't call it Grand Gulch for nothing 3)hiking slickrock 4)Wildflowers everywhere this spring 5)Native rock art along the Escalante River 6)I'm not really stuck, but I could be, Egpyt 3

2010-05-31T11:32:00.000-07:00

Zion Canyon Country

Winter Water

Its the first week of a summer long adventure and we've just left Zion. Snow was heavy this spring in the mountain southwest and the rivers there were running high – clearly not conducive to exploring and rappelling the regions wild canyon watercourses. Though the handful of canyons we were able to explore left us dumbfounded by the beauty of this red rock desert landscape. Its a landscape so completely created by the course of water carving through sandstone on its way from the high desert to the Colorado river the irony is not lost on us. We cannot explore the place fully, purely because the regular forces that created the massive steep-walled canyons are at work at present.

At first entry to Zion National Park we were excited and ready to put some new canyoneering gear to the test. We choose a canyon with a short drainage, supposedly little water, and an easy approach. Easy approach means: park the car at the end trailhead, hitchhike with the tourists scurrying around the park like ants, hike an hour or two straight up exposed slickrock, backcountry navigate to the canyon head. Easy. Turns out the most likely people to pick up hitchhikers these days (even those clearly not running from the law) are French tourists roaming around Utah with a full-size van they bought when they landed. I think our French friends picked us up from the roadside of the wildwest simply for the stories back home – but we got a ride and were soon gaining elevation and perspective of the massive Zion landscape unfolding below us.

Spry Canyon is mellow to an experienced canyoneer (which we are aspiring to be), but to the armchair adventurer it may sound a little extreme. The entrance to the canyon is guarded by loose and exposed sandstone ledges that empty into a narrow defile chalked with brush. This side canyon pours out into a wide and wild-looking bowl surrounded by towers. All the while the geology has mixed up and swirled all the colors of rock to give the place an otherworldly sense. After traversing the bowl and dodging catci we came to a small stream pouring over the slickrock and ending in a wispy fall of maybe 40 meters (130ft). Just a glimmer of water apparently reached the pool below, the rest was sun dried or blown away. We locate two bolts and some webbing, uncoil our ropes and prepare the rappel. The ropes fall through the water then splash and tangle into a smaller pothole halfway down the falls. I clip into the ropes, check the system, and slide the near-vertical watercourse towards the chilling shadows below. “Now we're canyoneering,” we say.

Honestly, after that first big drop in Spry the rest of the canyon seemed to go by in a blink of the eye. The next morning we were ready for more deep Zion. We got what we were looking for, as spring conditions meant melting snow and deep and cold water in the traderoute canyons of Pine Creek and Starfish. I will pass by the chance here to soapbox about how the National Park reamed us, charging us $10 per canyon, thus $20 for a day of technical permits, while the hoards scramble freely amongst every day hike and viewpoint in the park. But my digression on the state of park management in the 21st century will have to wait for another blog entry. A second ride through the Zion tunnel puts us atop Pine Creek, clearly Zion's most accessible technical canyon.

When you see snow at the top of the drainage your just about ready to swim through its OK to be nervous. Despite our wetsuits and neoprene booties the many long, dark pools in the deepest recesses of central Pine Creek Canyon turned out to be debilitatingly cold. Be reminded though: once you start on your way down and pull that rope down to you while your treading water in an iceberg pool your on your way – no u-turn. While the cool water and cloudy conditions made Pine Creek kinda a freeze fest, we found it hard to get caught up in our own discomfort. Spinning down a free-hanging rope though water-carved red walled sandstone amphitheaters vertically hiking past hanging gardens and natural arches it's easy to say to yourself, “I'll be in the sun soon, even though I can't feel my hands, this is beyond fun and way too beautiful to worry.”

Photos: 1)Michelle gets us a ride through the tunnel 2)climbing from Upper Pine Creek to find Spry Canyon 3) Egypt 3 mile-long slot 4)special thanks to our 5.10 canyoneering shoes 5)the final rappel into the wild sandstone alcove of Pine Creek

2010-02-14T15:14:00.000-08:00

I am back from China, back from behind the "Golden Shield" and thus reunited with IanOutThere at BlogSpot.

Soon! look for upcoming stories and adventures from my last three months in Yangshuo, China.

Until then look at the updates on my China photoblog at:

http://penglaiadventures.com/index.php

2009-12-17T20:56:00.000-08:00

While in China IanOutThere will be published by an unfiltered domain. Find it at:

naturalistsnw.com/blog

2009-12-17T20:13:00.000-08:00

Continued to be challenged by the Chinese internet filters and thus still unable to post pictures to either here or facebook.
China is amazing though, and regardless of the limited incoming news the outgoing adventures are limitless.
Much climbing amongst the towers still, despite the cold, we ride rickety bikes out of the town and into the wild villages.
i

2009-11-17T03:00:00.001-08:00

Amazing. China has blocked Facebook. We're all going into withdrawls!

2009-11-17T02:59:00.000-08:00

It's very very cold in Yangshuo China.

Waiting to climb.

2009-09-16T23:06:00.000-07:00

Penglai Adventures Photoblog

2009-09-11T14:12:00.000-07:00

West Ridge
of Columbia Peak (7172ft)

Solo, in-a-day

Yesterday was a long, rewarding day in the Cascades. After a summer of working in the mountains but not really being in them I got motivated and headed out the Mountain Loop highway. The night before I had thumbed through the Beckey guide and settled on Columbia Peak, a “monarch in the Monte Cristo region.” The mountain was indeed striking and foreboding from many perspectives though the summit was accessible by an amazing scrambling route.

I got an embarrassingly late start from Seattle for such a mighty endeavor. My arrival at the trailhead was far from ambitious but I made it up mountain biking the first 4.5 miles to the abandoned mining town of Monte Cristo. Though I had to carry my bike across a wide log bridge and through a couple wash outs I passed a handful of hikers on the approach. This got me excited for a long day and with each over-ladden day hiker I rolled by I got more fire-up about my ultra-light packing job and the bright blue sky overhead. It was gonna be a good day in the mountains.

At Monte Cristo (creepy and interesting at the same time) the road ends and the switchbacks begin. I left my bike and plowed up the steep trail, happy with my choice to go light and solo into this beautiful place. At Silver Lake the route gains a ridge and the views become immediately spectacular. The trail peters out, the trees shrink, the Twin Lakes glisten below, and then the mountain comes into full view. Columbia Peak is a massive chunk of granite with an outstanding mile long south ridge. I sat down in a field of exploding blueberries and was immediately intimated by the mountains huge, expansive faces and precipitous ridges. My route to the summit was not at all apparent.

It was already afternoon and the sun has hot and intense. The sky was entirely clear and there were no signs any afternoon thundercloud activity. The ridge leveled out and I found that with a light pack trail running was reasonably fun – I made up lots of time and realized the summit was still within reach. At 1:30, just three hours after leaving the car, I stood at the base of a small snow field and granite step that would mark the beginning of the technical, exposed sections of the West Ridge. It was lose but climbable and once I lost in the intricacies of the ridge time seemed to stop. There was continued exposure but the climbing felt solid, the weather was almost too nice, and the views only continued to improve.

About an hour later, I reach a high exposed ledge covered with new snow from an early storm over the weekend. Here the West Ridge met a gully dividing the North Face and there was a lot of exposure. The traverse was complicated by the layer of new snow and poor rock quality. I collected my self, kicked some steps across the white stuff and scrambled up the wet and spooky summit pyramid. I was blown away when I looked at my camera and found my summit time to be well under 5 hours. I took lots of pictures of the view, ate a bagel and cheese and chocolate, and nervously began to gingerly downclimb through the snowy ledges and loose sections. It wasn't as bad as I remembered going up and I was soon enough cowering in the shade of a huge boulder at the base of the heathered ridge.

Water had not been a problem on the ascent but sun exposure was. I had forgot my sun hat and was now feeling the combined effects of intense alpine sun and a long day. I drank liters and liters of water but was no able to shake a bad headache. My return hike along the ridge and down to town was uncomfortable but not unbearable. I passed a high school girl in flip-flops about 2 rough miles up from Monte Cristo, were'd she come from? I figured she was more hardcore than me.

I thanked the mountain gods I had a bike waiting from me at the base of the switchbacks. It felt so good to effortlessly cruise down from the mountain meadow without using a muscle as my feet and quads recovered.

There was just a sliver of sun lighting up the peaks of the highest mountains when I returned to the car. I was tired, really tired, and hungry. So hungry I stopped and got pizza from 7-11. It was gross; which means it was really gross because, again, I was really hungry. It was still a good day and the Gatorade made my headache go away. Now, thinking more clearly, I figured I had just found one of my favorite Cascades scrambling routes; West Ridge of Columbia Peak.

2009-09-08T18:09:00.000-07:00

It all started when Mark and I decided we should take Betty the big blue van to Sunrise (Mount Rainier NP) for our resupply mission to friends on the Wonderland Trail. We got a late start because the interweb clearly said it was nasty up there. We figured we'd save ourselves from the mid-day deluge by walking out to Sunrise camp in the afternoon; just in time for Krista, Eve, and Julie to be finishing off their long day. It was a good call. The views that we had were fantastic.

I wouldn't say we got snowed on so much as that we got slushed on. It was mighty cold in the Cascades this weekend and cheers goes out to those who may have also enjoyed amazing Labor Day weather. Note to self: if you're ever on the Wonderland Trail and it says it's gonna snow at 6500'; bail.

I went back to try and find the weather report I read on weather.gov mid-way through the weekend. It was a special advisory. It said something to the effect that the upcoming “cold and wet storm” would be especially hazardous for those in the “mountain back country.” It was like Barrack Obama himself warning of impeding doom in the Cascades for Labor Day.

We brought a lot of important things to Sunrise Camp, the girls seemed happy about it: 2 bags of salad, fresh bread, Odwalla (which was later used as a mixer), Rogue and Rainier Beer, artichoke hearts and sun-dried tomatoes, chocolate cake. Funny how the 4 day ration that Krista laboriously home-dehydrated took up as about much space as our 1 dinner? I was really sad that they weren't able to put their ration to work for them (those food bags don't pack themselves, ya' know). None-the-less they were still smiling.

Dear Black Diamond,

I don't much like the Firstlight tent you generously sold to me. I think I could have found a better tent in the children's toy section of ShopKo. I can't tell if the fabric is suppose to attract or repel water. Funny, cause my Mirage tent is the best tent I've ever owned. What gives?

Ianoutthere

We did a lot of pointing out the clear parts in the sky. There were indeed many, especially early in the evening when we got a nearly complete look at the stars and the temperature dropped to probably around freezing. The weather came in from so many different directions – the mountain still loomed above and made itself known.

2009-09-04T11:12:00.000-07:00

I've been dreaming about this lake ever since we accidently found ourselves atop

Vesper Peak

(North Cascades, WA)

Photo: Mark Bir

2009-08-03T12:49:00.000-07:00

It's summer in Seattle, which means I have about two free minutes each day to get hours of things done. Hence IanOutThere has fallen by the wayside as my job with BOLD Mountain School, side projects, and personal climbing take precedence. I can't believe we're over halfway through the summer and that soon enough I'll be back in Nalifornia.

I had to take this breathe to publish a few photos from my personal climbing trips this summer. They have been infrequent but Pinnacle Peak (with its fantastic views of Rainer) and the East face of Chair Peak (with alpine style loose 5.2 face climbing and endless rappels) were both great days in the mountains. More ahead, sometime.

2009-06-09T10:34:00.000-07:00

May 27th was a perfect day to be aiming for the summit of Middle Sister.

The snow was firm all the way to the summit. Good thing - we hiked in it all day.

At about 9000ft, at a high saddle we put on our crampons and left the packs and skis behind.The conditions and view were both amazing. Anne' loved the steep,
dense snow high on the NW flank.
We spent very little time on the summit. The snow was softening quick, the mountain was trying to melt from beneath our feet, and the corn snow was just waiting to be skiied.

2009-05-28T09:18:00.001-07:00

Where is IanOutThere???

I'm getting alot of questions like this lately so...

photos and stories will be up soon, when I have more than, literally 1 minute.

May's itinerary has been huge, with big trips to Zion, the Sierra, Yosemite, Petit's wedding in Shasta, and Bend.

Look for a trip report and photos of climbing Middle Sister soon!

til then

2009-04-30T13:45:00.000-07:00

Another Spring Season at NAL

And what a great one it was. I should have known when I started off with two amazing weeks at snowy Montecito Sequoia Lodge I was in for a great spring in Southern California.

In the Sierra during late February we had two groups of fun kids out on program but somehow most of the work has been overshadowed by the blissful weekends in between (isn't that always the case). We did nothing more than play in the snow – adult style. We built snow caves, slacklined in a dug out trench, and then had a paintball war which ended in tromping through deep snow under darkening skies. We made a snow sculpture of the St. Louis Arch and then warmed up with draft Sierras by the fireplace. We used some dead dinosaurs and skied the hell out of Dinosaur Bowl and lapped a trackless powder field under cold, blue skies. I was having so much fun my car getting broken into and towed barely phased me. By the time we drove out of the snow and into the Kern River Valley the only reminder of my misfortune was the many music-less hours of driving.

We took a detour, on the way to Ventura, up the Kern River and found the wildflowers in full bloom. We discovered a new, secret little hot springs called Pyramid that I had driven past many times before. There was a big jump across a cold river to get there. We spent fun days and nights camped along the Kern, singing around the campfire, and enjoying Remington hot spring (one of the finest and most well-built in the region). PC meeting came around in Ventura and we almost forgot to go. Luckily we did though because merry-making and flag football with your best friends is not something to be missed. Turns out.

After the meeting of the season, where you get to see everyone together at least once, it was time to head out into the wilds and enjoy Pinnacles in the spring. Wildflowers, great temps, a few lowly condors, and some bold climbing were on the menu. Days past and there were great small trips that have now become a blur. We made a trip to Yosemite to sneak in some days of granite (beautiful) and then happily took a break from it all while glamping at ElCapitan's luxury campland. I had to cook for 150 people too, but again, I remember mostly the amazing BBQ and beach jam we had at Refugio State Beach post program. The rangers kept reminding us we can only have 8 people in our campsite, little did they know we needed a 15 foot box truck to carry all the beer and burgers for 8 people. After chilling beachside for a week it was back up to Pinnacles for a great small trip where we cooked gourmet food, whipped heavy cream with a slotted spoon, and ate a curry named Vermont (your guess is as good as mine). On the last day of Pinnacles we took the public climbing, for free, as an outreach to the Park Service – there were many characters and it made me happy that I work with children mostly.

The season was nearing the middle by this point and in classic NAL style I had no work but I did have a place to camp and eat for free so I headed there. It was called Natural History training and it was in the Anza-Borrego Desert State Park. On the way I went to the San Diego Zoo with my friend Michelle; her favorite animal was the Muir cat (named in memory of John Muir I guess?), I liked the gorillas. It was great to see my cousins' two new youngsters, Teddy the dog, and my aunt and uncle in SD. Later that week we met Feder in Pacific Beach for 'act like a frat boy' night. Anyways, in Anza we hiked to a cool oasis of palms and a impressive overlook. We learned some things too, from our peers, and my brain got bigger. Of course it may have shrunken' back from all the toxic air I inhaled by exploring the Salton Sea – but I think there was a net gain.

After the sea, and PB, and NHT we took the cube truck on a tour of the Mexican border. No, we did not cross into Mexico with an unmarked box truck, we only toured the fence line that separates us from them or them from us or the fence the Bush built. It was freezing cold in Jacumba when we stopped for Mexican food and watched Super Bad for the second time in a week. I practiced my backing-up on narrow dirt roads with an overloaded truck skills, and we ended up at Walter's Camp last in the evening. The mosquitos had gone to bed and someone had left an old wahing machine tank under the tamarisk for us to build a fire in. Two weeks on the river went by fast (for more stories from the desert lands read the previous entry: The River).

I remember a big scorpion, an open mike night better than most I've seen at real venues thanks to a bunch of talented seniors from Hollywood, getting up at 3:45am – twice, a windstorm with gusts to 45 MPH, lots of breakfast burritos from Filiberto's, cooking 245 veggie burgers, and plumes of dust a mile long as I navigated the big white box through miles of desert nothingness listening to Tom Petty and dreaming about another breakfast burrito.

It been a good season and as I round it all off once-again glamping on the Santa Barbara coast I am already dreaming about coasting past bighorn on cold ripples below the Hoover Dam. 24 hours of work left until I start back up in Seattle June 1 and I already can't wait to see Nalifornia again.

Photos: 1) Wildflowers in Kern River Canyon 2)Shooting stars on the Pinnacles High Peaks trail 3) The southern Sierra from Montecito 4)Muir cat at the SD zoo 4) NAL camp at Pinnacles 5)Colorado River sunset

2009-04-18T07:34:00.000-07:00

The River

It is Sunday morning in Yuma, Arizona and I feel like I am waking up from a long dream. The morning desert wind is dry and all the hues of red are forming into long bands across the sky above the low, dirty city. There is a Harley gathering in town this weekend and already many loud machines are piercing the quiet of the sunrise. The dream I had, it turns out, was real and a week long. I was on the river that makes this place able to be here. I followed that river, which is beyond essential for the entire population of the Southwest, from Blythe to Yuma and left it before its well-used waters cross the Mexican border.

I began working on the Lower Colorado a handful of years ago; the river has changed very little though the place has evolved in my mind. My first season I found the desert hot and oppressive, the locals were on edge, cranky and the whole experience (oftentimes we're guiding and naturalizing for hundreds of students from Los Angeles) could be overwhelming and numbingly tiring. But today, as I wake up from my week-long dream and begin to prepare for yet another I feel at home at a cheap motel in Yuma. The bikers staying next to us see us a locals, ol' Jim at Martinez Lake is like having a crazy grandpa you only see a couple times of year, and the desert dwellers of Walter's Camp welcomed us for Easter beers. We made a ham in a dutch oven, made mash potatoes and asparagus, and ate, as family, under the shade of a tamerisk tree.

I know the river now too: how to wake up and beat the windstorms (and associated dust and waves) that are common in the spring, how to dodge sandbars and get somewhere in the low water fall, how to apply sunscreen hourly to keep your skin from cracking until it bleeds, and how to talk to the locals about good 'ol things like catfish fishin' and assholes from the city. I've spent years now reading books about the Law of the River and the water rights that are always in litigation and limbo. Through study of the river's politics and ecology I have come to understand this region of America far better than I could ever imagined. Few know of the formerly vibrate delta that is now a barren wasteland where no Colorado River water meets the ocean – the water, of course, is in Phoenix, L.A., San Diego, or in the Imperial Valley coming out of a sprinkler head. This water, originating from the high the in mountains of Wyoming, Colorado, and Utah has made its way into everything. You, yes you, wear it in your cotton clothes and eat in your strawberries and lettuce, for the Colorado River is far from just the lifeblood of the urban Southwest it is the financier of the some of the most productive crop land in the US and travels far and wide by way of our heavily industrialized food system.

Before I jump to the top of my soapbox I'll bring myself back to the dream I was having before waking up in Yuma this morning. I was floating, pre-dawn, on a wide glassy river lined with reeds. The sky was turning from starry to colorful and the birds were responding with song. Ahead of me were four groups of canoes, tied together and moving through the current without human direction, their human contents were asleep and oblivious to their naturally well-choosen path. I had had been awake since 4am and had stood at the back of a box truck under lantern light watching kids stumble to pack their things. We are all on the move now, and I could relax for the time being. I tucked my arms under my lifejacket to block the morning chill, leaned back against the cold aluminum of the boat, and let the river do the work.

2009-03-25T15:37:00.000-07:00

G r a n i t e

El Capitan has a way of reaching out over Yosemite Valley and commanding attention. A star in a cast of soaring granite towers and thundering waterfalls El Cap belittles the rest of the magnificent features seen from the valley floor and draws all eyes north and up. Said to be largest continuous wall of granite in the world, certainly in North America, El Capitan holds a special place in the mind's eye of all who have stood in it's shadow. To climbers it is the holy grail, the icing on the cake, the stuff dreams are made of, the light at the end of the tunnel, the end goal, the reason they moved to Yosemite and lived on beans and hid from the rangers for months, the Captain, the shit.

I have never climbed El Cap. I may, I may not. But it's pure existence continues to egg me on as a climber. Every time I visit Yosemite it is a slap in the face saying, “ keep climbing, go travel the world over chasing stone, but I'll be right here – waiting.”

I am in Yosemite in the spring – my favorite time. There are still patches of snow hiding in the shadows. There is road construction everywhere. Curry Village is littered with down trees and the paths are all mud. Tourists still somehow find a way to block the road to rubber-neck from car windows but they disappear in the evenings leaving the valley floor to welcome spring without much fanfare. Camp 4, Yosemite's cheap walk-in campground and home to dirtbag climbers and misanthropes since climbing's conception, is all but deserted. A few brave European couples, some recession struck families trying to save a buck, and some die hard boulderers have staked claims in the first few sites. It is mid-week and rain is forecasted for the weekend – we know we are lucky, for in just a few weeks the spring break hoards will begin pouring in hoping to catch warm weather.

We are happily camped out under a dark green and awaking forest, amongst boulders still cold to the touch, and burning wood wet and smokey. The sky is clear and melting from deep blue to starry black. Climbing was good today. We, once again, touched the famed Yosemite granite. Polished beautifully by glacial ice and speckling in the late-afternoon equinox sun we were alone on a high buttress overlooking it all. The granite cracks were warmed from the sun but the shadows mixed with the waterfall wind to make it cold to standby belaying. After so many months of climbing comfortable limestone stalactites (Asia) and uncomfortable volcanic edges (Smith) this granite, stark, ominous, and exposed, felt real. Climbing in Yosemite is elemental. Your hands and arms ache from the movement, your mind puts together the pieces to protect the moves, and your body understands the commitment. This granite is what moved the climbing ethos forward and I am once again reminded why and how.

On the third day we wake to drizzle on the tent fly. Within the first hours of the morning the storm is upon us and heavy rain puddles on the hard packed floor of Camp 4. There will be no climbing today. The weekend welcomes the rain and disheartened faces repack. I am not disheartened though - two days is all I needed to be reminded. I only needed a quick trip between spring showers to remember. Granite is

2009-02-27T17:12:00.000-08:00

Run for the Hills
Chasing Winter Into The Sierra

There is a lot of road between Bend and Grant Grove Visitor Center at the northern terminus of Sequoia National Park. After hours of lodgepole lined south-trending Highway 97 I got my first glimpse of Mount Shasta welcoming me to California. At the town of Weed 97 melts into Interstate 5 and begins a steady drop into the mighty Central Valley. I could name the towns I passed through but it is more fitting for them to remain nameless. The Central Valley, for all its worth as a agricultural hotbed feeding the nation, has little worth for the traveler looking for scenery and wildlands. My favorite thing to do here is drive, fast and efficiently, all the while keeping my eye on the mountainous prize at the end of the mind-numbing concrete dreamland.

At Fresno I stop for gas and beer. I can see the Sierra crest now, lit up orange from the setting sun and hemmed by darkening forests. 180 is the Highway number now and it makes a circuitous easterly line across the oak woodland and up into the rugged Sierra foothills. I am approaching one of the last explored regions of lower 48. The highest peaks in the Sierra, many over 13,000 feet, are out ahead of me, far ahead of the beam of my headlights but magnetic and making themselves known in the dusk.

In the summer tourists from around the world flock here to stand humbly below regal giant Sequoias. They head straight for the General Sherman Tree, maybe see a black bear leap across the road in front of the family SUV, buy a couple “Squeeze Me S'More” T-shirts, and return to the sun-scorched valley below. In the winter, many roads are closed and those open require escorts along the narrow, snow-carved pathways. The tourist crowd is notably different in the winter. We all share the desire to meet the forest under the cover of snow, to slide into the woods rather than plod, and are chasing (whether knowingly or not) the comfortable loneliness that is held in the winter wilds.

In the morning it's another blue sky day in the Southern Sierras. It's the type of winter day that every snow bum greets with mixed emotions. When one is happily stuck for the weekend at 7500 feet at a comfortable and secluded mountain lodge (http://www.montecitosequoia.com) its hard not to grin as the sun begins to warm the firs and soften the snow, yet snow is what we want. Snow is why we bought skis in the first place – melting snow is fun but fresh snow is divine. Each evening I read the weather with contempt as I yearn for the 'storm of the season' to be predicted, yet each morning I happily apply sunscreen and squint at the brightness. Somewhere along the way I mistakenly taught myself I only like skiing powdery, fresh snow. Though, after some careful research (the methodology I will have to explain later) I find that all snow, when placed at an angle, punctuated by mighty old-growth California red fir and Jeffery pine, and ringed by granite domes and spires is pure enjoyment. Always.

This article first published by On The Go-go

Photos: 1)Alok gains Baldy Ridge 2)Shasta with the camera held out the window at 60MPH 3)The view from home - this week 4) The crew loving the employee built snowcave

2009-02-16T11:33:00.001-08:00

Bend, Adventure, and Why Elephants Are Good Painters

It has been just week since I returned from my Asian dream world. Seattle for a day and then snowy Central Oregon has been a welcome slow dose of America to comfort my landing in the western world. I thought I would miss the jungle warmth, the unrefreshing temperature of the sea, or the pleasure of enjoying the evening with shorts and a T-shirt. In short, I thought I may miss the climate.

Turns out its very much the opposite. I am happy to be back in cold and snow, to drive on icy roads, to have powder thrown into my face and down my jacket. I am happy to remember that tired feeling that can only be accomplished on a winter day. Instead I miss my Thai friends and Thai food. I miss the relaxed pace and complete flexibility of being on my own adventure in a place where new experiences are too easy to come by. I miss Thailand, Laos, and China because it was new -always adventure – I like adventure.

But here's the caveat. Bend is far from new, it is essentially old, when it comes to my experiences in adventure here. I have done this or that before, but my lifelong memories have not rendered the activities of the past week null. In fact having life knowledge in this place allows me to better plan my day, it allows me to track down the good snow or know when Smith is gonna be warm enough. I can pick an idea out of the blue and know it'll be a good one or network with old friends that have a finger on the pulse of the place.

Place is the canvas for the adventure but the mission, for me, is far from complete without the right team. This transition back home, which admittedly I was slightly worried for my sanity before my plane touched down, has be smooth and mentally comfortable because although the place is homely it is not stagnant nor deserted. I was fortunate, it seems like a lot of my friends are actually moving to my hometown. Even better (for me) they don't have jobs! So I got two days of resort tele-ripping with Quinn and Adam, a fantastic warm day at Smith with Wally, old-fashioned Valentine's Day sledding with Tyler and friends, and modern sledding (read Ski Doo 800) with the Harveys. Pretty good for a weeks work.

So here's what I've put together. The adventure equation is more complicated than I thought maybe. You pick a canvas (turns out its not the most important part, but don't go buy a cheap one from a back alley) start to mark out (maybe with pencil) what your product will be, and then go to town. The more good people involved hypothetically the prettier it'll be (there is a breaking point in life and analogy). Last time in Thailand I saw an elephant paint a picture of red and black flowers with its trunk. The massive animal did much better than I could have done. And its true two elephants could paint more flowers and usually came out with a nicer painting. Not so true for all the elephants. They couldn't even line up at one painting – they were much too big.

Photos: 1)Squeezed into Josh's beast on the way to Paulina. 2)The Harvey fleet.

2009-02-08T23:22:00.001-08:00

Tonsai Remembered

Being back in Bend doesn't mean I'm out of stories to tell about my Asian adventure. In fact I can't get many images from my trip out of my mind. Most of them are the days I was saying to my self 'now this is classic Thailand.' I was usually holding by fingers to a bright orange wall of limestone looking out over the sea and watching the boats coming and going.

My favorite days were when we were up high and thus getting a light breeze to whip away the stifling jungle heat. Many days were spent climbing and hiking through the vines and eating Thai food with tall Beer Changs to follow. There were many more days looking out into the jungle from the bungalow deck, watching the monkeys throw things, waiting for this or that to 'go into the shade' so we could dare to climb it. We relaxed in phychadelic bars lit up with colored lights set in bamboo, hammocks hung at every junction. We ate out for every meal everyday, what else is there to do. The resturanturers became our friends and suggested special dishes upon our arrival.

We bought beer from 13 year old boys, unlike in the US, its always cheaper to buy from the little guy. I discovered BBQ beef thai salad and mango sticky rice. My bungalow had a tin roof that drummed me awake everyday as the jungle animals, lizards, squirrels, rodents, birds played their own assymetrical rhythm. After climbing we would head for the sandy iddyllic beaches and bounce around in the ocean, washing the sweat from our faces, and watch the sun go down in a smooth firey drip. It was hard to not be merry.

I almost died trying to slackline from razor rock island to jungly gray island above the sea. But somehow after we all realized I was indeed not dead, and escaped with meager scratches and a bruised foot, we laughed and laughed. The thought of paradise did not mix with such immediatedly dangerous events - laughing was all our brains could do to put it into perspective. Some of us woke up in the middle of the night and found our stomachs very upset with us - ' felt like I was gonna die,' I overheard. Yet in the morning we were all still smiling and laughing. What else was there to do - expect embrace the fact that 'everyday is exceptional.' Tonsai is so full of so much just try not having fun. Try. I dare you.

Photos: 1) Sunset bathes crags. 2)Climbing natties unite: Andrew, me, Sunshine, Liz

Also: Szu-Ting has more Yangshuo, China climbing stories and beta up at littlepo.com

2009-01-21T20:28:00.000-08:00

Sea Kayaking Koh Yao Noi and surrounding islands

Andaman Sea, Thailand

After waiting out strong winds for three days on the magical island of Koh Yao Noi I was able to prepare a sea kayaking trip to explore the karst islands off-shore. Kitty of Koh Kayak rented boats and overnight equipment to us for a truly meager rate and after shopping in the local Thai markets for curry paste, tuna, rice noodles, coconut milk, beer, and vegetables we were able to set off in the afternoon for Koh Hong. What followed, in the next three days and four nights, was some of the most outstanding scenery, fun adventure, and perfect kayaking around a chain of unmatchable islands. The first evening we snorkeled colorful and brilliant coral reefs in secluded bays, then explored a jungle salt water lagoon rimmed by noisy bird calls. We found a deserted beach and camped with views of the wild islands ahead of us.

The next day we found a cove full of tourists and therefore a small Thai bar with beer. It felt amazing to be so alone in the islands and then to come across the only services we needed: a bar. We carried our own food and water but our drink supply was quickly shrinking so we spent the afternoon drinking Thai whiskey and watching the water monitor tease the house cats. We met some Canadians with a sailboat offshore and were welcomed onto their boat for an evening of wine and cheese (a very special commodity in the waters of Thailand). As the sun set we set out for the shore of Pak Bia to light a fire and prepare camp. When we began to pull the kayaks from the sea the water lit up with phosphoresence and instead of cooking dinner we snorkeled into the dark waters playing with the bubbles of light all around us.

In morning the winds had come up and the crossing to Koh Ku Du and the northern tip of Koh Yao Noi looked choppy and far. Unfamiliar with the craft we were a little nervous when we set out into the whitecaps - but this is the Andaman. The water temperature in bathtub, and sun is hot, and the many islands help to limit the fetch and thus the swells. The morning was nonetheless a real sea kayaking experience and we were thankful for the spray skirts and rudders on our well-equipped boats. Another beautiful jungle cove was reached, where just up from the sandy shore a massive old-growth banyan tree was discovered. The water was still warm, or warmer, and the day passed by quickly as we swam and drank rum and Coke by the deep blue sea. We had to launch again to watch the sun set of the western shores of the Phuket Peninsula and then located a deep bay ringed with wild limestone towers. The water in the bay was shallow and therefore limited any sailing or powered boats from entering. It was clearly a home for sea kayaks and we quickly made camp at the edge of a tall cliff face. Monkeys played in the trees above our camp, the tide came up to meet the white sand, stars were out, dinner was Thai-style potatoes and vegetables, we finished the Bicardi. Life was easy, warm, great.

2009-01-17T21:48:00.000-08:00

Dispatch - Jan. 19th, 2009
Koh Yao Noi - Andaman Sea, Thailand

Have arrived and explored a slightly populated jungle island perched in the sea. We, the natties, have met up with friends that have put a lot of time and money into developing climbs on the limestone walls - they have been instrumental in arranging boats and transportation to access these remote climbing areas. It has been like living in a dream on this magical island, the climbing has been perfect in quality and position. I am happy to have been climbing routes just a few years old and was so happy yesterday when we spent the day on a terrace above the sea climbing 6c+ - 6a routes. I said many times yesterday that it may be one of my best days climbing... ever.

Today I will depart for a multi-day sea kayaking adventure into the small islands off-the-shore of Koh Yao Noi. I am looking forward to exploring the jungle islands and azure coves in a deserted island park over the next three days. The oppurtunity for exploration and adventure in this region is truly endless. The Thai people and expats living here are more than helpful in arranging everything. I am happily lost in the island vibe. Pictures and stories to come soon...

2009-01-11T20:35:00.000-08:00

Dispatch - Tonsai, Thailand, midday Jan. 12th

It is completely hard to believe that a week has gone by since my last dispatch. I was more than surprised to login and subtract today's date from that of my last post. Tonsai has this magical way of eating away at the days of your life without you feeling sad or worried to have lost them. Each day is made up of so many different hours of individual experiences that it becomes a place where your mind no longer registers days of the week or length of stay. Instead, here, I rather focus on and remember climbs, meals, swims, people, beers, slacklines, bungalows, Thai friends, and full moons in a collection of events seperate from the calendar.

The climbing has been fantastic for me. I was excited to come here at the end of my trip with some strength and mind built from the climbing in China and Laos. It has paid off, as I am climbing confidently and strong and routes that would have been out of reach during my last trip here. I have enjoyed many days at crags high above the sea in the breeze with views acrost the karst and emerald water. The limestone here, I remember now, is uncomparably strong, the routes uncomparably thoughtful and beautiful. To top it all off a roving band of natties has amazingly all found their way here and to be it these places with 6 close friends adds to the expectionality of each day.

Life in the limestone jungles continues....

2009-01-05T01:32:00.000-08:00

Dispatch - Tonsai Beach, Thailand - January 5th, 2009

I welcomed the New Year tubing and rope swinging on the Nam Song (river) in Laos. We made a quick trip of getting to Tonsai by flying Laos Airlines to Bangkok, and Thai Airways to Krabi. What could have been an arduous bus and train journey was accomplished in a quick day (well worth the money). It felt good to arrive back at Tonsai, a place that was Michelle and I's home for over two months in 2006. Not much has changed except the prices and it felt great to be recognized by a few Thai friends I had met years ago. I am taking a few days to get used to the humidity and heat after getting a little climbing in yesterday. Swimming and beachy hangout time has been fantastic. On the to-be-written list: "The westernized wildside of Vang Vieng" and "Tonsai Time: meeting friends at the other side of the world."
All is well.

2008-12-30T16:44:00.000-08:00

More than the daily dose of adventure

The jungle always adds to an adventure. It's something about heat and humidity mixed with thick vegetation and unknown sub-tropical creatures - a combination that turns a simple day of hiking and climbing into a noteworthy mission. Yesterday the goal was a newly developed crag at Pha Tang mountain 25 km north of Vang Vieng, the the central region of Laos PDR. Myriad factors led to this day of motorbiking and climbing being quite different from a day at the local rock gym.

First, and possibly least, is the gact that this region of Laos is ethnically Hmong. Hmong fighters, hold-outs from the Vietnam War, former American allies, and still clinging to the possibilty of autonomy, have been clashing with Laos military police as recently 2005. In 2003 a tourist bus and some German bicyclists were caught in the crossfire. My fears were mediated after careful research (finding no recent reports of incidents) and seeing no signs of armament while travelling this Highway 13 last week from Luang Prubang. None-the-less motorscootering on rough roads through the poorest of villages in a former war-zone breeds apprehension. So after a hour of riding through this picturesque karst countryside I was mometarily relieved when we arrived at a simple quarry that would safely park our bikes (story has it that our gas would be siphoned if left in teh woods).

From along the newly oiled highway we could see the white limestone towers rising from the jungle, but the approach would not be without its own set of stories. We left the road on a bearing towards the towers and immediately entered a lime orchards with an unknown flowering shrub in the understory. There were many branching trails assumingly from the local fruit pickers. We were following directions clearly written by a non-native English speaker and consequently they were immediately useless. The orchard ened at a small streat that we decided to work along following a newly cut trail through tall ferns. Just 100 meters into the jungle, Josie, leading, was blind sided by a spider web complete with a white and black long legged friend. She maintained resaonable composure considering a large and creepy jungle spider dangled inches from her eyes and its web netted her hair. By the time I reached her she was rid of it and we took the accompanying picture of the peculiar aracnid.

The spider trail ended at a fence and we retraced our steps to the stream and crossed it. We then gained a wide shallow river which we waded easily without our shoes. I did not know it at the time but I think this is where I got the leech bite on my foot that later in the day would not stop bleeding. We easily crossed a patchwork of rice paddies and came to the side of a small hut which I think is used in the rainy season for the farmers. Now just a few hundred meters seperated us from the limestone though an unkept orchard retaken by jungle stood in our way - there were faint trails but nothing seemed continuous. I was cautious to leave well-trodden ground as in my research I also learned of the hundreds of thousands of land mines placed unmapped by the Viet Cong. My nervousness was surely over-zealous and unfounded due to my poor understanding of Laos geography and post-war reparations. I was lacking an objective way to understand these risks (as I would, say, of the possibility of an avalanche) and though it was extremely unlikely we were to come across a unexploded ordinance I was mentally tired apon reaching th base of the enormous limestone massif.

The wall stood tall, dusty, and covered with cobwebs. Bamboo leaned into it and created a quintissential jungle atmosphere. Josie, always strong, made short work of one named climb and then quickly located two others that we had no information of. They seemed very new and we cleaned bugs and dirt and loose rock as we climbed. The 5.11 climbing itself was technical and steep and followed an impressive brown dike through the harder gray limetsone. We climbed 30 meter picthes at eth ground - there was clearly another 300 meter of stone above us. I am now reminded that apon reaching this second set of climbs we encountered a very bizzarre bat trap that was essentialy just a fishing net hung up perpendicular to the cliff between two bamboo poles. We had to get very close to the net before understanding what it was, but as we near the three near-death bats wringled in their unfortunate situation and stared at us in something I can only describe as fear. the whole scene was quite unnerving and added to the mental game that we were already playing with the dirty rock before us.

After our fill of jungle rock we worked back through the jungle and across the river. We were very hungry from the day because we got what we thought was sticky rice wrapped in bamboo leaves - turns out we unwrapped pandora's banana leaves to find what was I think about a tablespoon of uncooked pork. To shorten the already lengthy story: we reached the bikes just as it began to drizzle, we were starving , and the mixed clay and concrete road was quickly becoming trenchorous as it wetted. We had no choice to stop for chicken part and rice noodle soup in the first small village and sit with nice Laos people, only pointing and smiling, as the rain past. We returned to Vang Vieng just as the sun was setting into the bright orange of late evening. I had had my daily dose of adventure - and I think maybe a little extra for good measure.

Photos: 1) The sun sets. The view from my bungalow. 2)Crossing the leech stream and heading towards the tower. 3)Bat in net. Quite possibliy the freakiest thing I have ever seen - sorry but just had to give you nightmares too 3)If the bat wasn't enough this is the spider that almost punctured Josie's eyeball.

2008-12-24T19:05:00.000-08:00

Dispatch - Christmas -
Vang Vieng, Laos PDR

Last night, after a day of rock climbing and rope swinging, we were invited to a grand Christmas party by a Spanish girl and her friends. It was a white elephant dinner party. We sat at a long table in the garden, I between the tall Spanish girl and the owner of the only Laos-owned climbing guide company here. We talked about how tourism is changing his formerly-small hometown into a mecca for western travellers - he listed the pros and cons and had a very relaxed opinion of the whole thing. Tourism IS the Loas economy yet I have not seen the kind-hearted Laos people turned bitter or jaded my the Western dollar. Adam has made a good business of guiding climbing for foriegn visitors. We toasted to his success and his birthday.

The common language was English, but many side conversations rattled around the table in Dutch, Italian, Spanish, and all collections of English accents. The Laos people and children that joined us wore Santa hats and talked in their gentle language. Each person was served a whole fish on a large plate, fried rice and sticky rice, garlic bread, and Beer Lao accompanied the main course. I met many new friends; as nearly all the European countries were represented around the table. A large British man played Santa Claus and carried a large rice bag to collect our presents for exchange. We rolled dice to see who who pick and exchange first - I got a small handmade doll that is a keychain. We ate and dined like kings - for 18 people our bill was 1 million Lao kip (maybe 120USD). No doubt it was a Chistmas party I will not soon forget.
Happy Holidays to all.

Photo: River side bar and swimming hole, Vang Vieng, Laos.

2008-12-21T04:21:00.000-08:00

Dispatch - December 21
Vang Vieng, Laos PDR

The 24 hour sleeper bus ride and the 6 hour minibus ride are behind me now. I will leave that story for another time. Today I found some climbing in a jungle acrost a river. There was a massive rope swing into the river and there was a bar at the shore played Bob Dylan all day. We rode is a tuk-tuk with a drunken driver - but he was kind enough to share his Beer Lao with us after returning us to town. There is an island here that is reached by a rickety bamboo bridge, on the island are many bars and campfires surrounded by routy European tourists. We you get hot you can swim in the river right from your bamboo perched, as long as you don't upset your beer as you jump off. There are endless hourds of western tourists here sitting in resturants watching Friends and snacking on fruit shakes. I happy to have a climbing mission because tubing the river all day and drinking and watching TV all night would truly get old fast. Laos people are very kind and friendly and they don't honk nearly half as much as Chinese drivers. This will be a very nice place to spend New Years and Christmas as every day is a party and you can easily drink and eat too much - which is what I'd do for the holidays back in the states anyways.
hohoho

Photo: Boatman on the Mekong River, Luang Prubang, Loas.

2008-12-16T23:42:00.000-08:00

Dispatch: Kunming, China 12/17/2008

We left friendly and beautiful YangShuo on a local bus to Guilin yesterday afternoon and without much trouble have found our way to Kunming. Kunming is in Yunnan province and lays some 1200km west of Guilin. We slept well on the confortable sleeper car and prior we were able to watch the scenery and villages go by until the sun set. The other train riders were interested in us and watch on as we played cards and reviewed our photos. I tried my few Chinese phases and we shard some laughs with our bunkmates. We met a guy who smokes regular cigarettes out of a big bamboo bong between cars and I was kind and unable to turn the rough Chinese tobacco down. Josie beat me at cribbage after that.

At the Kunming train station we easier than expected found a fancy new sleeper bus that was bound for Luang Prubang, Loas. We got our tickets and will depart this evening expecting a slightly arduous 24 hour ride through jungle and canyon. Let the adventure continue....
~i

2008-12-14T23:56:00.000-08:00

Rock Climbing in YangShuo, China
Beta for Multi-pitch Routes

When I first arrived in Yangshuo I was prepared for a month of limestone sport climbing. I readied myself for pocket pulling and tufa pinching up steep white and orange walls. Once I began to roam the towers and delve into Yangshuo Rock Climbs I reliezed there may be a slightly more elusive Yangshuo climbing scene. I made a point to climb as many multi-pitch routes up these impressive limtesone towers as I could fit into my trip. What I found was a collection of jungle adventures into beautifully unexecpted places with endless panoramic views of a magical land. There was also no shortness of crumbling rock, unequipped anchors, vine pulling, razor blades, hailing buses in the dark, rockfall, rusty mallions, and an ocassional snake. In otherwords: sweet!

Climbers Beta

(note: vocabulary may be a bit tedious for the non-climber friends and family)

There are a lot of fresh bolts in Yangshuo and thus the climbing is fairly safe (some older routes do have some rusty bolts). Many rappell anchors need to be backed-up or rebuilt. Bring lots of webbing and rap rings. Next time I will bring many rapid-links and chains as most rap anchors could use some permanent equipment (this is also true even for some of the single pitch sport climbs). The rock here is both sharp and loose. Climbing here without a helmet would be foolish. Almost every route can be decended via the ascent line with one 60 meter rope. I found the topos in Paul Collis' book to be well-drawn and consistent. Lastly, it should be noted that the amount of rock here makes the possibility of putting up more routes comparable to these completely unlimited. Hundreds, if not thousands of unnamed, unclimbed, unexplored towers rise from the rice fields and river flats in all directions. Climbers seeking limestone walls of adventure need to look no further.

The Routes

Thumb Peak - Happy New Year (5.10b,5 pitches)
This is the first and definently the cleanest multi-pitch line I did here. Climbing in great, bolts are frequent, the top anchor was looking pretty hangered 'til we beefed it up. Bring lots of draws to link the 3rd and 4th pitch.

The Screaming Mountain Turtle (5.9, 5 pitches)
There is a new first pitch to this climb that is maybe 10a that goes to right of the original line with bleached out threads. The rest of the pitches are sharp. I almost broke Szu-ting's wrist with rockfall on the first pitch. We used a #2,#1, .5 Camalot to supplement some sections, otherwise there are lots of bolts. There is a hidden bolt on the traverse pitch. The top pitch requires loose climbing above dubious cams. The final rappell (off route) is a sketchy thread at a chalky stance.

Low Mountain - L Echo des Montagnes (5.8, 5 pitches)
An alpine style route with little hard climbing. Lots of rope drag if you're not careful. The 50 meter free-rappell is the best part of this climb, second is the very cool river of the river. In the shade for first half of the day and bolts everywhere.

Low Mountain - Monkey King (5.10c, 5 pitches)
First pitch is fanastic and clean, link it to the 2nd. The 3rd pitch is soft rock but cool climbing and the 4th is the only bolt protected off-width to squeeze cimney in Yangshuo. Must use every rappell station to get down. Despite being dirty this is a fun route!

Twin Gate Western Tower - Penthouse Platforms (5.10a, 3 pitches)
The hardest climbing is right of the ground. Like it says, big belay ledges, and the cool top-out and views make this an enjoyable route.

Brave New World, East Face - The Witch Woman of the Rock (5.10c, 5 picthes, bolted anchors)
This is the only true trad climb we did and subsequently the most intense. There are indeed cracks from top to bottom but the rock quality is variable. This was Szu-tings favorite route and for good reason: serious climbing, we got use the gear she brought all the way from the states, amazing exposure, even better views, and the only true hand jams in Yangshuo. This route is recommended for experienced trad climbers as we used cams to #3 and a small set of nuts and many long runners. The anchors are in good shape as they are good bolts equipped with rope loops and rap rings.

The Egg - The Deviant Direct (5.9, 3 pitches)
Szu-ting forgot we did this route so it must have not been very good. The 30 meter rappel directly from the top anchor is not eqipped and thus I had to jug back up to the anchor on-route.

Photos: 1)Endless unnamed, unexplored towers along the Li River; between Yangdi and Xing Ping 2)The team at the Egg; Josie, Masa, myself, and Szu-ting

2008-12-03T22:12:00.000-08:00

Climbing everyday

Climbing everyday in China is tiring and rewarding. Most days we gather lunch and breakfast supplies as we walk to the bus station. We gather warm soy milk in a bowl, steamed buns with sweet peanut filling, blueberry bread, sticky rice in bamboo leaves, cookies, candy, mandarian oranges and crisp apples. We then head to the crowded local mini-bus station and cram ourselves and our gear into a breadbox mini-bus half the size of an American minivan. We ride with the locals down wide roads honking and passing tractors and bikers and getting passed by large tour buses and taxis; did I mention the honking. After much honking and much shuffling of people in and out of the mini-bus we arrive at a dusty side street and pay our fare - 2.50 yuan or 35cents USD per person. The bus sputters off and we start the short or long walk through villages to a beckoning limestone tower.

The villagers are busy with their daily chores of picking fruit, washing, sweeping, collecting wood, or working on a new part of their cement homes. One time an old lady got off at the same dusty road as us and walk alongside chatting with Szu-ting as we haeded for the crag. She told her she can always pick out the climbers because they carry backpacks and most of them are westerners. She seemed happy that we passed through her village - unaffected by our presence but entertained by our parade. Sometimes when we are slightly lost and tramping around through someone's orange or rice field a farmer will apear out of nowhere - he has a basket of small tart citrusy friut to share and helps us with finding the right trail - usually guiding us all they way 'til we have located the proper path. I can not tell wheather he just wanted us to stop tromping around in his field or if he actually wants to help us find our way. Either way we are rarely lost for long (speaking Chinese helps very much with this).

Once we reach the cliffside we open the newly republished English guidebook (Climbing in YangShuo; Collis Oct. 2008) and begin to pick out routes that we can do. They always look steep and intimidating and if I'm feeling fresh I head out on lead up the rugged, often sharp, holds. If I'm feeling sleepy or slow I talk Szu-ting into starting up; she happily grabs the gear and begins to work through the technical movements that characterize this limestone climbing. The rock is made up of pockets and side-pulls and overhanging holds facing all directions and therefore, regardless of grade, always keep you on your toes (pun, what pun?). The climbing is protected well by numberous and fresh looking bolts and is consequently quite safe - that doesn't mean it doesn't feel intense or scary for the consistent steepness and adventuresome manner of the stone lends itself to some intimating climbing. Every route is fun and every crag we visit is a new adventure.

Rock climbing development in YangShuo continues at a very rapid pace with one team we talked to reporting as many as 30 new climbs bolted since the publication of the October guidebook. This speed supercedes any American climbing area I have known. Route development and climbing exploration in many other parts of China is just beginning and the possibility to establish new routes seems at this moment endless. Yet, for now, we continue to explore routes clearly established by the adventurers that have come before us. Regardless, many routes we have climbed appear to have had only a handful of previous ascents and as we learn through the grapevine of more recent develpoment many routes we approach may have had even fewer previous parties. I envision a time when I will put my name on a newly created route somewhere deep in rural China. Until then I will continue to enjoy the quality offerings, of both culture and stone, at the cliffs of YangShuo.

Photos: 1) Corey decending via a free-hanging 50M abseil from Low Mountain's SW Arete 2) Approaching Low Mountain through groves of citrus and cotton 3) Szu-ting leading yet another steep 10b at Space Butress

2008-11-28T06:11:00.000-08:00

Yang Shuo Fire and Water Tourism and Fruit Trade Show Event (thingy)

It was perfect timing. Yang Shuo has been hosting their annual town festival and we were lucky enough to catch many of the festivities. Without a doubt it makes up for the lack of fanfare for the more traditional holidays back in America. The events calendar and coinciding tourist influx is beginning to wind down now. The traffic on the pedestrian street moves along well again and the municipal park has taken down the stage. It has been a fantastic evening diversion after a long day of climbing to come back to town and always have an exciting new thing to see. So as the banners fall from the street lights and we get on with another couple weeks here let me recap the most notable events of the Yang Shuo Fire and Water Tourism and Fruit Trade Show Event.

We first knew something was up when a large float decorated with plastic flowers and the local fruit (the gui) shown up on West Street. Szu-ting translated the calendar and told me there would be a beer competition, a marketing respresentive contest, dancing, and a fireworks show. All these items seemed vague and slightly uneventful but little did I know the amount of entertainment value the local government could pack in to these ambiguous titles. Sunday turned out to be the day of most of the excitement so we headed to the park following the loudspeakers. We found the place to be packed, loaded with kids chasing cotton candy and ballon vendors, and what appeared to be traditional native cultural dances being performed on an impressive stage. The costuming was intricate and while I understood very little of the music (or the Chinese Opera and one-act plays to follow) the performances and the turnout was still impressive for this little town.

After a break we headed back into town and found the place to be litterally crawling with tourists, most of them from neighboring towns. Police were everywhere but they seemed content just keeping traffic moving along. We arrived at a cross street to watch what was only described as a beer competition - turns out it was a beer drinking competition and I was immediately sorry I missed the sign-up. The first round was the western tourists and as they lined up to ready themselves to pound a TingSao 22 the local paparazzi swooped in for good photos. I shoot my photo from a balcony across the street. There were subsequent rounds of Chinese beer drinkers but somehow the white guys got all the fanfare at this event?

Just after the beer comp we made our way, with our own beers in hand, to the riverside. It was rumored there would be fireworks at 10. As we neared the waterway we recognized the immensity of our position. It looked as as the whole town plus the 5 neighboring towns had turned out to watch the display. We waded through people 'til we got right down to the water - still having no idea where these fireworks would be coming from but figuring the more dense the people the better the view. At 10:10 we were quite surprised to see that the fireworks would be shot off from immediately opposite the river from us (were talking Deschutes River not Columbia River here). Please remember the Chinese indeed invented gunpowder and still make most of the world's fireworks to this day so one can imagine the scope of a firework show at a festival whose name includes the word fire. For forty minutes we watch a few men run around these massive cannons and boxes launching the loudest fireworks I've ever heard into the air above us. The booms resounded off the limestone tower walls and reflected in the river at our feet. The ferry boats of the river lined up perfectly, each lit by a single light and floated idyllically past and out of sight. The fireworks went on and on, short and tall, flares and firecrackers, left and right, and all the time everyone ohhed and ahhed and took pictures with their cellphones.

The next day we were back from climbing just in time to the marketing representive contest. You guess it a Chinese beauty contest for the Queen of YangShuo (I give that name myself, but it is a good translation). On the park stage again, this time in the evening under lights with even more people standing and straining to get a view. First there was the swimsuit round, then the evening gown, then the question and answer, and then they must have crowned the Queen but we didn't stay for that long 'cause the Q and A was really boring if you don't speak Chinese. All in all a great week of giving thanks time events in YangShuo. Mark your calendars for Nov 22nd 2009 - the fireworks are always the same day!

Photos: 1)The best fireworks. Ever. 2) Ballon vendor
3)View from third pitch of the Egg. Yes we go rock climbing too 4)Westerners and paparazzi and beer.

2008-11-22T21:02:00.000-08:00

It's not just another climbing route!
It's a tower in China

The Thumb: Happy New Year! (6 pitches, 6a+)

Yesterday was the first day we climbed a tower of limetsone. It rose from the rice and vegetable fields of rural China. We rode a crowded mini-bus just a handful of kilometers to be dropped off at the tourist spot called Butterfly Spring. It was the weekend and hoards of Chinese tourists rode bikes along the scenic rode and gawked at the magical views. The buses and trucks and cars streamed past as well, constantly honking and swerving around the biking hoards. We crossed through the quiet farmers tending thier crops and stood below the overhanging, colorful wall. The wall was well equipped with closely-spaced modern bolts and two-bolt belay anchors. The climbing was steep, but not too hard, and I struggled up some sections with my sore finger. Szu-ting made short work of an awkward bolted off-width crack nearing the top of the tower. The crack was razor sharp and the exposure was drastic but she nonethless escape upward without adding blood to the hand-eating fissure.

From the top of the tower the constant honking and tractor rumble fell away, and we were able to finally look out across the landscape of endless towers with the Li River weaving a ribbon a life throughout. Tourists and locals biked and laughed along below us and further, rice farmers swept their crop thin across concrete roofs to dry it in the patchy sun of the afternoon. We took it all in from the summit not much wider than a basketball court and then returned to the edge to begin our rappels to the ground. The anchor was pieced together and the strands of rope and webbing shown the wear of sun and rain. We added a caribiner to the mess, threaded our rope through it, and decended through knife-blade limestone and vertical jungle to the next, and much better, abseil anchor below.

China is a very new place for me to be travelling. Culturally it is unlike anything I have seen. There appears to be a great disparity between rich and poor. Though is seems that the rural people live simple and slow lives that have allowed them to escape the many trappings of the modern automobile and information driven society we have embraced in the west. By the way people drive and honk incessently here it appears cars may be fairly new to many of these villages, cell phones and the internet even more so. As the world continues to become more international, as cultures continue to melt into one another it gives me some sort of solace to see old Chinese farmers shucking rice grains with a wooden, hand-crank contraption.

Each night we explore the alleys and streets of Yang Shuo; it if a tourists destionation for not only westerners but for many Chinese from neighboring cities. There are thousands of resturants and craftman shops. There are western bars and hotels and pizza cafes and street vendors selling fruits and whole chickens and tea and deserts and cotton candy made with a bicycle tire and a wooden tub. Szu-ting translates menus, and street signs, and advertisements for me. I am beginning to learn words and phrases in Chinese which I forget and relearn daily. As I begin to understand how the language is put together I begin to understand the immediate and stark differences to English and I am even further impresses by Chinese speakers that have mastered the English language. I am not only thankful, but truly impressed by Szu-ting's speed and agility in daily translation; for it has allowed me to more fully appreciate the place. A place that continues to captivate my western mind.

Photos: 1) The Thumb; our route went basically right up the center of this colorful, vegetated tower. 2)Yang Shuo town and the myraid limestone towers beyond. 3)Looking out the round windows from "Sleeping On Clouds" lookout in Yang Shuo Municapal Park.

2008-11-19T18:16:00.000-08:00

Dispatch - Yang Shuo, China - 11/20/2008

After two exciting days of travel we have arrived in Yang Shuo. Since there are no direct flights to the mainland from Taiwan so we first had to fly into Hong Kong. In Hong Kong we had planned on tranferring to a ferry that would take us to another airport across the water in China where we could then fly up north to a town called Guilin. Instead, we missed the ferry transfer to collect our luggage and was then forced through Hong Kong customs - once through customs we would have to find another option to get out of the airport. We choose the airport express train that led to the Hong Kong subway. The subway is very modern but very busy and required 5 transfers which we negotiated with all our climbing gear. The other thousands of people were obviously commuters and were surprised by our amount of luggage. We then reached an above ground line that headed for the Chinese border. At the end of the line we worked our way through Chinese customs and were finally on the mainland. We then spent hours trying o find a bus or train bound for the Szenchen airport - even speaking Chinese and English it took alot of asking to work our way through the confusing transportation network in China. We finally embarked on a wild bus ride through the city and ended at a local airport serving domestic flights within China.

We had yet to aquire tickets to Guilin so we went directly to the airline counter and bought tickets with cash for a later flight. We took all our gear and walked to the small neighboring town and had beers and dinner. There was a school bus full of kids that all ran to the side of the bus to say "hello" to the westerner in town. In all my travels in Asia I had never had this much attention from local children - they were clearly excited to practice their English and wowed by a white guy sitting on the street-side. Szu-ting said she had never got so many looks, for even though she is Chinese we were clearly not locals. We had amazing hand pulled noodles for 3 yen (40 cents) a plate for dinner and returned to the airport. The flight was an hour and 500 km long - the train would have been 13 hours so it was money well spent. We were finished after that day and found a hotel with a massive marble and chandelier lobby - it was $18 USD a night. In the morning we found yet another bus to take us the hour here to Yang Shuo. We have been busy working to find long-term housing, get climbing info, and settle into this tourist town amongst the beautful karst towers this region is famous for. More adventures to come.

2008-11-16T18:44:00.000-08:00

Taiwan: Final Dispatch

Sea cliff climbing and Chinese homecooking

One last report from Taiwan before we head to Hong Kong tomorrow morning. Despite the rainy weather outlook we decided we must check out the climbing area here before leaving. So we packed up the Piglet once again and took freeways for and hour and some to the northeastern corner of the island. The climbing is at a rugged cape composed of brightly colored sandstone. You scramble down muddy, slippery fisherman trails right to the edge of the sea and work along boulder fields and tidepools to the base of the crags. Long Dong (yes, that's its real name; it means Dragon Cave) is built from rock unlike any I have seen before. While the guidebooks call it sandstone it compares little to sandstone climbing areas in the states. It is a conglomerate, there are features mixed in that appear to be quartz; the resulting rock is amazingly bombproof and the many fractures create great places for natural gear. Couple amazing rock quality with the impressive position above the sea and you have a noteworthy rock climbing area.

Unfortunately, the winter weather has been consistent since we've been here in Taipei and when we visited Long Dong the rain was between drizzle and downpour. Nonetheless we located a short wall of cracks inside the mouth of the cave and as the choppy waves blasted against the cape we were able to sneak in a few meters of climbing - enough to say we climbed in Taiwan atleast. But the day was only a teaser as now I interpret the routes in the guidebook as more quality than the pictures suggest. I expect Long Dong would support a good week or two of amazing trad climbing and possibly another week chasing around the most recently bolted routes as well.

In other adventure news I have been very fortunate to dine with Szu-ting's family each evening. her mom is an incredible cook and I have had handfuls of amazing homemade Chinese dishes. The meals are always served with rice, which you eat plain just a bit before adding the entrees, and finished with a brothy soup. My favorites have been sea bass, spiced bone-in chicken, seaweed and tofu, handmade sausage, water vegetables and carrots, and mushroom sautee. I have eaten many new items - they are too numberous to list - and I am thankful for the Yi family's hospitality.

Photos: 1)A rainy day ay Long Dong Cape. 2)An array of homecooked Chinese courses. 3) A well-animated cliffside warning sign.

2008-11-14T19:19:00.000-08:00

Taiwan Road Trip Part I:

Big cities, chicken rice, and alpine tea

Days are very full and therefore moving very fast here in Taiwan. It turns out this small island figuratively floating off the coast of mainland China has much more to offer than the neon bustle of Taipei city. The rains continued to pour down as our jet lag faded away and as the coastal climbing areas to the northeast sat damp and sad against the Pacific we decided to turn our dreary days into a sunny road trip that headed south and into the rugged interior mountains. Therefore, Wednesday morning we loaded Szu-ting's trusty 'Piglet', a miniature Nissan hatchback not seen in US markets, and weaved through Taipei surface streets to finally gain the comfortable Taiwan southerly freeway. I was constantly amazed by the density of Taiwan's cities, for as soon as we left the trappings of Taipei we passed through city after city, each taller and more built up than nearly every large city in the US. Every few miles was yet another tower of industry, a skyscraper of commerce, or a massive housing project fed by even a more massive power plant. Along this flat west coast the Taiwan Straight is churned up and dark brown, the prevailing winds turn mighty windmills, and the interior mountains are shrouded by haze.

Though, here, in the largest cities south of Taipei is where the true character of Taiwanese people and cuisine emerges. Szu-ting usually starts the introduction to each town like this: “the featured food item for here is ______.” This particular evening, in the town of Jah-yi (it should be noted placed names are provided in English by a process called ping-ing in which you just write letters that somehow make the sounds that are the word, an inexact translation as best) the featured item is 'chicken rice' which turns out is exactly that – chicken (cold with all the parts) and rice (warm). It is not my favorite Chinese dish, Szu-ting likes it a lot. I am glad she only ordered one. I instead opt for a grapefruit and honey drink which is fantastic and then eat some little round cakes cooked in a giant-round-waffle griddle on the street. I find a candy store and an Asian bakery that has some sort of ham croissant that is filling. On the streets there is a bustle that is unlike anything American – scooters and cars mix with vendors selling everything, neon lights bath the streets, ally ways fill with steam of cooked everything, and I wonder how a city can be so alive and interactive – there can be nothing more different from an anywhere-America strip mall.

After Jah-yi we begin our easterly ascent and the driving adventure begins. We wind up one and half lane roads into the steep green mountains illuminated by full moon light. The character of the landscape changes immediately and the cities turn to villages as the terrain steepens – there is no longer room for massive cities, only collections of homes and business perched on terraces seemingly carved from the slope. In one high village, surrounded by fields of tea, we find a karaoke celebration at a temple with a view and locate nearby lodging at a beautiful stilted 'bed and breakfast.' It is mid-week and the proprietor welcomes us to his office for tea served from a antique table made from a slice of old-growth cypress. He has much to tell us about his region, Szu-ting does her best to translate but it is late and constant translation in tiring so I let them talk in Chinese, as I watch the particulars of the tea pouring and making. Pour the tea leaves into a ceramic pot, pour the water over them with reckless abandon letting the water spill over and on to the wooden tray, pour the tea from the pot through the strainer and into the glass pot, pour off the first cup sloppily, but use it to warm the small drinking glasses, which have been pulled from boiling water themselves and set out in front of the guests. When the leaves are ready to provide tea pour it carefully into small ceramic jars with narrow necks, turn the jars into the glasses, and let the aroma of the brewed tea sit in the vase for inspection. The tea is ready. Talk, in Chinese, about mystical giant trees in the mountains, of trains climbing into high forests, of Barack Obama and the American economy, and of your home and your tea and your guests. Drink carefully and quickly, yet enjoy each sip. Walk to the veranda and point out the cities below. Welcome your guests once again. Sleep.

Photos: 1)Wind farms line the entire west coast of Taiwan. 2)Elder sister pond in Alishan National Forest 3)Terraces of tea from our lodging high in the mountains.

2008-11-14T07:38:00.000-08:00

Taiwan Roadtrip Part II:
Old-growth forest, winding roads of despair, jungle gorges, the other side of Pacific, and gold-medal traffic jams

We woke up amongst alpine tea terraces and devoured a traditional Taiwanese breakfast of fruited rice, chive omelet, pickled veggies, and shredded pork. Piglet, our squeaky and efficient transportation was ready for another day of driving adventures. When I thought we had already climbed to the top of the highest peaks I found myself mistaken as the road just continued to wind up and up to a place called Alishan. To my amazement Alisan is home to a montane old-growth forest of Taiwanese Red Cypress. It is a well developed and touristy park but that did not distract from the majestic forest that we toured through via a elfin wooden boardwalk.

This forest brought back many memories of old-growth forests past and I could not help but draw comparisons to the sequoia forests of the Sierra that I have come to know well. These Cypress, well over a 1000 years old, occur, just as the Sequoia, in a narrow band at around 6,000 feet on a particular aspect in a particular soil in a particular mountain range. Immediately, upon their discovery, the locals recognized their spiritual nature and protected them from harvest. The story of conservation is very similar to that of the Sierra forests. The park has recently added to their protection by building elaborate boardwalks touring through them, because just as the Sequoia, these giant trees are fragile and sensitive to soil compaction. While hikinh through these mighty trees one comes across elegant shrine's to historical figures past, vintage railway lines, azure Koi ponds, and creeky suspension bridges. These images will be forever imprinted in my mind.

After a morning exploring Alishan, and just when I figured our narrow road had topped out we again climbed up and over rugged mountain passes and had amazing views of many 3,000 + meter peaks. We descended only briefly to find food in a small village and after a soak in a well-developed hot spring the darkness forced us to find lodging in a train station town at the foot of the steep mountain faces. A river ran its course through this town and we found a simple night market with BBQ and candy stands to occupy our evening. In the morning we had a simple breakfast from a handful of street vendors and again headed back into the mountains via the most amazing collection of one-lane roads. The roads are windy, very windy, with mirrors at each corner, which are best used to determine if the oncoming traffic is a bus or heavy truck. Often the road barely fits Piglet because the rest of the road has since fallen into the valley below. I can only compare these routes to those I have traveled in the Italian Dolomites, though somehow building these grades in loose rock and in a land of monsoon rains seems more impressive that those carved out of solid granite. Szu-ting told me the route we took is only a couple of decades old and it is known that 100s of people died in its construction. I did the driving, she only screamed a couple of times, mostly because oncoming big rigs threatened to squish us or catapult us into 2000 meter of air, but Piglet held her ground and we worked our way up and over Taiwan's mountain pass. Many hours and maybe 5000 S-curves later we enter a impressive and very scenic gorge called Toroko on the English signs(tidal goul is what Szu-ting calls it, but that conjures up images of some scary sea creature blob monster from the deep).

Tidal goul (toroko) is far from scary. In fact it was the most impressive natural wonder we came across on this trip. It is a massive gorge framed by jungly vertical walls with a thin stream forming a wash at the bottom, huge marble boulders litter the stream bed and wispy waterfalls pour in from nowhere. An engineer marvel, the narrow road enters and exits endless tunnels as it somehow works its way through the defile. I have no words left to describe this place – but I will, just as Szu-ting suggested, put it on the must see list of any travelers to Taiwan.

After Toroko I though the scenic tour was over but we then gained a road that headed north along the rugged Pacific coast of the island. The ocean was an incredible blue and the green mountains came down to meet the sea in incredible relief. This was the scariest part of the drive as well, as the rain poured down, trucks rumbled along the curves, people passed haphazardly on corners with utter disregard for the double yellow line. We worked our way slowly and finally, much to the relief of both of us reached a freeway leading back to Taipei. We entered a 15km long newly built tunnel taking us northwest, near the end the temperature of the tunnel must have reached 110 degrees. I was only scared for a minute – the rest of the drivers seem uneffected so I drove on and was soon back in the comfortable evening outside air. Once reaching Taipei we exited to surface streets and spent the next two hours weaving through Friday night traffic back to Szu-ting's neighborhood. Buses, scooters, trucks, and cars merged in and out of a constantly changing traffic pattern. There must have been but I noticed no true organization pattern. Szu-ting read the signs, I attempted not to permanently mangle any school children as the weaved through the 4 lanes of crawling commuter traffic. Everyone honked at someone, I was amazed that damaged cars and scooter drivers did not litter the street-sides. Amazingly, without incident, I somehow managed to navigate Piglet back to the MingDe neighborhood and immediately had a cheap Japanese beer for my troubles. An adventure? Yes. Beautiful? Very much so. Driving in the cities and mountains of Taiwan? Unforgettable.

Photos: 1)Highway 14 winds through many 3000m passes in the central mountains 2)Shrine to those that died making the road we just drove on in Toroko 3)Piglet at the top of the pass 4)The Pacific meets the mountains on the Taiwanese east coast

2008-11-10T21:40:00.000-08:00

Lost, but at home, in Asia once again

Just one day in Taipei so far and already the adventure has begun. My previous journey's into Thailand and Malaysia have prepared me well for this new place but already I am completely indebted to Szu Ting and she guides me through the maze of eateries and ally-ways in endless Taipei. Just a year ago I was feeling comfortable and at-home in Thailand's biggest cities but here there are many new challenges - most notably the use of Chinese characters in most signage. There is very little English translation and I can only imagine the challenges of eating and navigating without my Mandarin speaking host. My ninja scooter driving and human compass skills have indeed come in handy but they are no match for not understanding a single thing.

After arriving at 6am to the airport and with little sleep we made our way via buses and subways to the neighborhood of Szu Ting's family's home. The weather was windy, dark, and rainy, but somehow my previous summer in Seattle made it feel slightly homely. We wanted so badly to sleep but the timeframe of visa aquitition required us to nearly immediately return to the subway system in search of the proper government office that could reissue Szu Ting a new ID card that would be required for the Chinese entrance 'visa'. The journey, shrouded in a sleepless delirium, took many subway rides and a rainy jaunt on the family scooter through mazes of streets that confused us both. We were successful and rewarded our day with Taiwan Beer and potstickers; which were purchased for $1 and 20cents a piece respectively.

This morning we continued the China 'visa' hunt which turns out is nearly as difficult for Taiwanese as it is for Americans ( mine requires $130 and days in LA traffic jams, hers requires running from office to office throughout the city at half the cost). We added a nesseccary visit at tourist stop Taipei 101- what may be, and appears to be, one of the tallest buildings in the world. I don't know the particulars but it truly towers over an already impressive city skyline and seems to defy gravity as it reaches in the foggy Taipei sky. Taipei in general it should be noted defys the eye in many ways as it reaches in all directions with such a grand density that it dwarfs any American city I have known.

It is a wonder I often have as I travel - how, and why, does it feel good to feel small and lost in an unknown land - to be a foriegner, to stick out of a crowd so completely, to understand nothing and to take solace in that lack of understaing, to have everyone seeing you seeing them and to share that look/unspoken exchange of 'what is your life like?' and... well... I've only been here for two days. We'll get to the and soon enough.
~i

Photos: 1) Street signs guide the way 2)Szu Ting guides the way 3)Taipei 101 - it's huge!

2008-11-08T16:00:00.000-08:00

Dispatch 11/08/08

Today is the day. LAX to TPE (Taipei, Taiwan) this evening.
Quite a harrowing week of preparing for such a massive international trip. Monday I made an early morning trip to LA to apply for a Chinese Visa and Tuesday started off with the loss of my bank card and ended at the filled with joy Joshua Tree Saloon. I have never seen such an emotional and incredible end to an election as all of the young dreamers showed up at the bar to squint through teary eyes as Barack gave his speech. Throughout out the week I have been teaching climbing to my fellow peers at an end-of-season Naturalists-At-Large anchor training that rode on the undertones of a new era in American politics. The regularly hapy and joyous crew was this week overjoyed and hopeful. Friday was syncronistic and insane as I regathered my financial tools and snuck through traffic to acquire my passport and new visa just minutes before being locked out of the Chinese embassy.
As some of you may have known I did some damage to the tendon of my right finger while climbing in Joshua Tree two weeks ago - a challenging injury to undergo just prior to launching off into a three month climbing trip. Because of this and the general nature of adventure my itinerary is splotchy at best and therefore this blog may just be the only reasonable way to keep track off me. I am most looking forward to my adventures in China, and further adventures and climbing with many close friends by the New Year in Thailand.
Keep an eye on IanOutThere for photos and updates

2008-10-28T12:58:00.000-07:00

Fall Musings

After a short 2 months at Naturalists-At-Large I am looking forward now to a grand adventure in China, Thailand, and Borneo this winter. The itinerary, beginning Nov. 8, is starting to fill up with endless forays into new and never visited climbing areas across Southeast Asia. But before I launch into preparations for the upcoming journey I felt it only to necessary to recount a few excellent adventures from the last bit of this play called work.

So to recap: The Southern California fall has been nothing short of fantastic. My regular tour of the region this season included some of the Golden State's most beautiful and less visited natural areas. I began in September at one-of-kind salty, tuffa'd Mono Lake and I moved around working and touring through the dry yet elegant Mojave desert. Along the way I was accompanied by a colorful cast of devoted and outrageous outdoor educators. Campfire music sessions were numerous, miles on the Interstate were even more numerous, and the time spent with friends in wild places was notable in the fact that despite the many times I have visited these places they are still just as I want and need them to be.

Programs at the end of the Colorado River were fun and the weekends following in dirty, quaint Yuma, Arizona were clearly scenes out of low-budget Hollywood flick backdropped by neon cheap hotels and sad palm trees. A canoe trip below the Hoover Dam meant Vegas was just a short drive away but we chose to spend our evening watching the presidential debate in the back of a local bar and wandering the streets of a desert town lost in the middle. In Pinnacles we befriended the rangers, took the superintendent's 10 year old daughter climbing and later, Andrew and I climbed the serpentine Machete Ridge with speed and grace (not always the case) until dark.

This season I reflected on how truly lucky I am do be working at a job that lets me visit some of these incredible places. As the world continues to spin into an increasingly unpredictable place I am excited and thankful to be continuing to live this life of constant exploration, honest fun, and rewarding pursuits. May the adventure continue....

2008-10-18T18:05:00.000-07:00

A nearly secret part of the Colorado River

2008-10-02T20:06:00.000-07:00

Home Back Home On the Mighty Colorado

The Colorado River is a one of a kind place. No other river on Earth can mimic its comforting grand canyons nor the deep mineral hues of its' coves. The Colorado River drains so much of the southwestern US that it encompasses and links many diverse regions. Yet, because of the river's endless enchainment of dams each piece must be explored separately. The Colorado River that I know begins as a chilly silt-free discharge from the bottom of the historic Hoover dam and flows decisively south toward the Davis Dam. Everyone that has visited this oftentimes quiet piece of the Colorado River has become fond of it.

On this particular week this peaceful Mojave Lake backwater is baking at well over 105 degrees. The winds only help to enhance the feel of living in a convection oven. The bighorn hide sleepily in the shade and the echos of my powerboats engine bounce across the tepid clear water. We are supporting nearly 80 people as they paddle through the numbing heat. We wait, we motor, we unload, we swim, and then repeat our now familiar work day. It feels good to be working and living in a place where most humans are only short-term visitors.

On the last day we begin to explore a cove that previous friends had visited. It is muddy and brushy at the shore. After three years out on the river I have never been here before it seems like a discovery is about to take place. We push through the sharp brush and immediately enter into an unknown tall slot canyon. There is nothing like this along this stretch of river; it is unheard of. We are excited and taking pictures like school children. We have made yet another amazing find along the under appreciated river corridor. We all agree we like our job today and then we get back to work.

2008-09-19T22:20:00.000-07:00

Photos from the Eastern Sierra with my new Sony DSC-H50 that I'm still getting used to. I already love this camera (too bad it can't take a picture of itself).

2008-09-02T09:35:00.000-07:00

Seattle. Friends. Rain. Goodbye.

Photos: 1) Krista and I taking our morning vitamins at Potholes State Park; Eastern Washington. 2)Teddy and I contemplating the next step of our YBOYS adventures; Olympic National Park.

2008-08-13T08:51:00.000-07:00

The Tooth - South Face
A (wet) classic

The Tooth could be called Seattle's local mountain. Less than two hours away The Tooth sees nearly daily ascents of it's regular routes. This did not discourage me from planning a weekend climb on one of Northwest Washington's classic alpine summits. Though The Tooth has a comparatively short approach and just a few hundred feet of rock climbing it still requires technical climbing skill and, on our chosen day, and fair bit of Northwesterner gusto.

I wanted to beat the traffic, crowds, and supposed afternoon rain so I picked Mark up at 4:30am. We swung through Bellevue to pick up Ron, who just hours before agreed to head up The Tooth with us, and were at Snoqualomie Pass just before 6am.

The last times I had approached the Tooth and Source Lake was during winter excursions so I absent mindedly followed the winter route towards the base. “There has to be a better way,” said Ron, as we bushwacked up a steep waterfall and splashed through wet meadows. Turns out there's a trail that heads right up to the basin we were aiming for but I explained we were in it for the adventure and that the wet bushwack added to the excitement of the climb. I don't think they agreed.

After cross talus and low-angle snow, and making our way quickly through steep gullies we were at the base of the rocky and damp South Face. Mist swirled in the air and hid the entire route from view. It was silent and eerie below the unmeasurable mountain face at 8am. We brought two 8mm ropes – I tied into both and tied Ron and Mark into one each. We were going to be climbing in a cold cloud, I put my jacket on, and finished adding gear to my harness. I set out on damp rock placing little gear but feeling pretty nervous not knowing the route, not being able to see the route, and watching my toes slip on the wet granite.

After three relative easy pitches we were at the top. The clouds swirled and teased us with views of the rocky ridgeline we were a part of. The last pitch had been exposed and required a few moves of real climbing on real wet rock. I had made a committing desperate move for wet hold just before the summit approach and was happy to now have the three of us standing on top of the vertiginous summit. On the was back we found the trail, and the tourists – I liked the bushwacking better.

Photos: 1)A modified misty photo of the Tooth and adjacent spire. We climbed the illuminated ridgeline from the notch just left of center. 2)Happy summiters.

2008-08-01T11:11:00.000-07:00

Check out more Stuart photos at Eve's blog:

http://www.boletivore.blogspot.com

2008-08-01T09:07:00.000-07:00

[Trip Report]
Mount Stuart - North Ridge 7/30/2008

Mount Stuart - 9,415ft and “without a rival as the crown peak in the Central Cascades” - was an incredible alpine climbing adventure. Here is a recount of our journey on this immense mountain. Many thanks to the team (Doug, Eve, and Andrew) as I had little part in the logistics for this amazing day. Note for you non-climbers some of this text may seem a bit dry and climber vocabulary laden (i.e. you may have to google gendarme).

The Park-and-Ride was deserted at 2:30 am. We were packing our packs two hourslater at The Ingalls Lake trailhead. I had no hand in the planning for this trip so I was impressed by my colleagues timing. As we took our first steps up the wide Esmerelda Trail we switched our headlamps off to meet the looming dawn.

We followed trail to Ingalls Pass and across basins to reach Stuart Pass and a ridge below the West Ridge. We ascended the ridge until a comfortable talus traverse was made to a gully leading to Goat Pass. Looking back we followed the approach notes in Beckey fairly closely, but we instead climbed the ridge from Stuart Pass and then dropped down into the west rock-glacier cirque. During this morning hike the summit mixed with windy clouds and either ominous or inviting depending on the minute you choose to look up to it.

While we worked along the edge of Ingalls Lake the winds were gusty and dark clouds and fog came intermittently. At Goat Pass we encountered lighter winds but seemingly freezing temperatures in the shade. The glistening rime and damp rock was discerning but we were encouraged by weatherless skies to the east. We discussed the West Ridge as a second option if the cold temperatures were giving anyone a second thought. The sunny glacier smiled back at us and we all started to unpack our snow gear.

With crampons, ices axes, and approach shoes we began a tedious and inspiring climb across an sunny snowfield. From the pass we traversed the steep-ish Stuart glacier and easy rock bands to reach a gully below the North ridge. Ditching the crampons we climbed the solid-in-spots 3rd class gully to the North Ridge. We continued on the ridge until reaching an exposed short wall that warranted roping up. We had two 35M ropes which worked great for the 4 of us climbing as 2 parties.

The next handful of 'pitches' after gaining the ridge are fantastic with outstanding rock and cool, exposed movement. Andrew and I simul-climbed these pitches using sparse gear and reached the base of the gendarme without swapping places. During this time we were moving pretty quickly and enjoying the clearing skies and warming sun. The crest of the ridge made for the most exposed and warmest climbing so we made some moves chasing warm stone that may be easier to the west. This was the most memorable part of the day for me.

When we reach the base of the gendarme the belay was in the sun but the imposing 200 foot clean granite block was shaded and dreary. Andrew belayed me as I worked up a series of bulging liebacks with rests and great small cam placements. Despite the moderate solid climbing on this first belayed pitch I felt the immensity of the route, the weight of my pack, and the frigid temperature of the rock all immediately and
simultaneously. It was fucking cold, my fingers were cold, the granite unforgiving and clean. I reached the belay ledge atop the first pillar after strenuous climbing and starting digging in my backpack for more warmth. I brought Andrew up from the sunny belay and onto the icy cold ledge.

Andrew led off the thin belay out across an exposed traverse and into an alcove below an icy off-width crack. After receiving a large cam from our friends ahead of us (it felt like it was lowered from heaven), he was able to grovel up the alpine awkward granite crack. With my pack on my back and Andrew's on a long leash from my harness I struggled and moved slowly through this pitch. My hands became really cold and I had to work sloppily and slowly to clean gear. At the top of the pitch I climbed/stumbled past Andrew to a sunny flat belay and was very thankful the clouds had left us.

After warming up and recollecting we simul-climbed across exposed and wild blocky traverses. We pitched out a short hand crack and a really loose traverse, otherwise we moved simultaneously to the summit. Eve and Doug, who sat side by side us at the base of the gendarme had been lounging in the heat of the summit boulders for nearly an hour. They had won the race against the corrosive cold. I can't remember what time it was when we reached the summit (my camera suggests it was around 3pm). We spent just enough time on the summit to reorganize gear and snack.

We made a regular decent by heading east below the summit ridge and onto the SE flank above the Cascadian coloiur. There was some kitty litter and loose scree but otherwise nothing to slow our decent. In fact once we hit the sandy part of the gully Eve and I got a little too far ahead as we quickly plunged though the more forgiving loose patches. We followed a good trail down and right to the head of a brushy, welcomed creek and then followed broken trail to meet up with Doug at the Longs Pass / Ingalls Creek/ campsite junction. We should have stuck closer together as the route finding at the bottom of the gully was a little convoluted.

We had one last ascent to go. Up the steep switchbacks to Longs Pass we huffed as the sun set on the massive south face of Stuart. We reached the crest of the pass just in time to soak up the last rays of sun. We finished our snacks and water and made the cruiser, but indirect, decent by trail to reach the car by 8:30pm. We were tired – and happy with the day. Simple calculations suggest we gained 9,100 feet over 16 hours, over a 1000 feet being 5^th class. The cold 5.9 climbing definitely was awesome but undoubtedly added to my exhaustion. We stopped at Safeway and got bad sushi that tasted so good regardless. We got back to Seattle at 11pm. I slept in.

Photos: 1) A recon photo I took from Stuart Lake in early June showing roughly our route up the North Ridge (much less snow now). 2)Looking to summit on the early morning approach. 3)Andrew making his way across the Stuart Glacier. 4) Lost in a vertical sea of granite 5)Summit smiles. 6)The rugged south side with descent route marked.

2008-07-21T15:09:00.001-07:00

Squamish.
Bristish Columbia.

The best moderate granite
climbing area in the world

Just a month has past since my last short posting and almost two has passed since my arrival at YBOYS in Seattle. It's been doing a lot of climbing and working and logistics and fun and, did I mention working. The best things about my job has been the cool co-instructors (one was just awarded the position as President of the Washington Trails Alliance) and another, despite her PhD in some sort of computation linquistics, chooses to teach climbing and expertly manage a bunch of boys in the middle of Canada. Also the consistent climbing I've gotten to do with kids in tow has been facinating as I've watch students go from non-climber to amazing climber in a matter of days.

My last trip just ended after a two week tour of Squamish and Whistler climbing areas. The granite was amazing, kids learned a lot, and its the first work trip I've done where I've actually gotten stronger (on the rock) by the end of it. Be warned fellow climbers pack all your food and beer before heading up for that perfect BC roadtrip. The dollar is flat against the CDN dollar right now and it might as well be Switzerland in terms of food costs.

Today, I'm back to the basement of the MetroCenter in downtown Seattle. For the next couple weeks I will be computing, and copying, and calling parents and recieving reports from the trips currently in the field. Anyone up in the Northwest should stop by and give a call - I actually have a couched you can sleep on.

Photos: 1) Managing a rappell with Szu Ting photographing. Squamish Chief in background. Yes there's a kid down there somewhere. 2) Celebrating apple cobbler cooked with charcoal. 3) The team.

2008-06-21T22:23:00.000-07:00

Three weeks in Seattle now.
Always a busy, but somehow easy and enlightening day.
The rain and wind has finally given way to a muggy summer. Seattle has come alive in response to the long awaited nice weather - there is always something happening in the endless neighborhoods of SEA town.
My camera will soon be back in action I will again post photos of my journeys. Tomorrow I will begin a YBOYS trip climbing in the Tieton River region and then on to Squamish, BC.

Photo from internet: I work, sometimes, in the basement of the building in the foreground of the tallest skyscrapper.

2008-06-01T13:27:00.000-07:00

Where has the blog gone?

Hey all.
1) I've lost the cord to my camera.
2) I'm in Seattle. It's a big city and takes some getting used to.
3) I can't wait for a sunny summer in the mountains.
4) Hope you all are well.

2008-03-07T14:14:00.000-08:00

Out of Bend and headed south

We'll the winter season, for us, is over. I write to you from Bishop, California as our annual California spring begins. Bend, over the last few months, was nothing short of insane and Michelle and I both look forward to another Central Oregon winter. But for now our list of upcoming spots on the map is growing.
Look for reports from Bishop, JTree, Ventura, Pinnacles, the North Cascades, and all spots in between.

I am also excited to announce the upcoming audio podcast of IanOutThere.
Look for it soon at: podclimber.com

Thai monkeys will have to suffice til then.

2008-01-19T18:22:00.000-08:00

Winter, winter, winter

It's been a couple of eventful weeks in Bend with winter coming from all directions and in all shapes and sizes. It's been real snowy, then real cold, then real nice and spring-like. The winter here in Bend can't be figured out but that hasn't stopped us from getting out into the wilderness wonderland of Central Oregon.

There a lot of pieces to put together to make it all happen but the recipe for adventure reads pretty easy. Chase the snow on the hill, pick the sunny days for backcountry, climb if it has been cold. This is what we came up with after we put the whole thing in the oven.

Hoodoo TeleFest last weekend, Todd Lake backcountry skiing Monday, Mt. Bachelor perfect pow Tuesday, the amazingly comfortable Mountain View Hut Wednesday through Friday, and ice climbing Paulina Saturday.

Photos: Ian following Big Paulina. Eric Harvey sending his very first ice climb. The view from the window of the shelter (3 Fingered Jack). The odyssey pulling the Ghetto Rocket, Michelle gearing up.

2008-01-06T10:10:00.000-08:00

New Years Day 2007

Paulina Falls -
Newberry Crater
National Monument

I've been wanting to climb this for years. After a week of single digit temperatures reported at Sunriver Paulina Falls seemed finally probable. It was New Year's Day and the sun was out. The temperatures were climbing back above freezing making the well-formed ice sticky and fun. Josh and the Harvey team had already beat us up to 10 Mile Sno-Park and had made a quick snowmobile reconnaissance up to the falls to confirm it frozen and steep. Michelle and I attached the GhettoRocket to the back of the minivan and slid our way down 97 and up out of LaPine. We loaded more gear into backpacks, unloaded another snowmobile, and headed into the crater (at 25MPH).

From the snow-buried tourist viewpoint the falls begs to be climbed. I splashed across the top of the creek, potholed through some deep snow and was soon stomping out a platform and planning an anchor. Josh joined me at the ledge with crampons on his feet and axes in his hands. He rappelled into the freezing mist first. It was loud and wetter than expected at the base of the icy face. Josh wasted no time, took a quick glance around at the alien icescape, turned back around and sank an ice tool into perfect solid ice. Within minutes he emerged at the ledge, hardly out of breath.

For me it was a bit different. Ice tools felt foreign in my hands, crampons were not the normally comfortable sticky rock shoes. I made wild rock climbing moves with legs splayed and arms over reaching. I set the pick in the ice well, too well, and worked hard to removed it for the next placement. I emerged at the ledge at well, breathing hard. The sun was setting. Josh brought a beer. We drank it.

2007-12-25T21:36:00.001-08:00

Michelle skins to the summit of an unnamed butte on Tam McArthur Rim; Broken Top in the background. Three Sisters Wilderness.

2007-12-22T14:20:00.001-08:00

Finally....

It's been the longest hiatus of IanOutThere yet. I've heard from enough folks from afar - nows the time to, again, start putting some pictures and stories up for the world to see.

For those I haven't caught up with lately, Happy Winter!

Michelle and I are 'holding it down' in Bend pretty well so far. After a slow start to the ski season the last week has been a non-stop snow storm at Mount Bachelor. The roads have been icy, the mornings freeeezing, and the white stuff bottomless; just how we like it.

Our first month in Bend has treated us quite well. We have a nice warm house in SE suburbia with a extra room with YOUR name on it. Bring your boards.

1)I titled this photo of the Sisters: the why. And if you'd been there on the day I shot this from the summit bowl of Mt. B you'd know why too.
2) Still untracked - I Sneak a couple turns through the wind-pack in Rainbow Bowl. 3)Don't forget the motorized winter fun this season. The Harvey's don't!

2007-10-18T11:08:00.000-07:00

Owens River Gorge
Alabama Hills
Malibu Creek State Park
Colorado River
Las Vegas
High Sierras
Mono Lake
Ventura Surf Sites
El Capitan State Beach

2007-08-05T12:32:00.000-07:00

The Canadian Northwest Quicktrip

Rivers- Elk and Vermillion
Mountain - Ghostrider
Climbing Area -Grassi Lakes
Hot Spring- Lussier
Parks - Banff, Kootenay, Yoho, Whiteswan, Elbow

Photos: 1) The Odyssey makes its way down yet another gravel road in search of rock and river routes. 2)Banff NP classic too-close wildlife encounter. 3) Michelle waits at a gravel bar on the glacial Vermillion River, while I scout yet again for a route through the braided ripples and endless logjams.

2007-07-30T10:45:00.000-07:00

The Road to the Rockies

We started the last week with two amazing canoe adventures near Spokane. The first was a short evening trip down the Little Spokane River where we had a close and a bit nerve-racking encounter with a momma mouse and a newborn. The second was down a little known stretch of the Pend Orielle River with amazing wilderness camping and scenic big river paddling (get a boat, go here, it's great). We entered Canada that afternoon and made break for the Rockies. Bigger mountains, expensive beer, nice people. We're just getting started up in the north country, more photos to come. Thanks for visiting.

1) Michelle descending the ridge from Ghostrider Mountain (2340meteres). Fernie, British Columbia.

2) Rest break on a mid-river sandbar on the Elk River (I+).

2007-07-25T20:56:00.000-07:00

The Making Of The

OdysseyCamper

1) Square steel tubing sparks as I cut.

2) Harvey welds a corner together. This photo may have fried my camera's LCD screen.

3) The gloss black frame awaits its wood top in its new home.

2007-07-08T16:58:00.001-07:00

Bend In The Summer

Sparks Lake Swimming Hole
36 miles on the Deschutes
Enjoying the new van on Cascade Lakes Highway
Wakeboarding! Thanks Harv.

2007-06-04T14:41:00.000-07:00

August 10, 11, and 12

We got our tickets, you should get yours at:

www.summermeltdown.com

2007-05-28T14:54:00.001-07:00

Welcome, welcome. Thank you for stopping by. So sorry it's been so long.

We are working in the mountains.

The Sierra's are no better place to play for your living.

Just a few more weeks before we chase the nice weather to the north. OR, WA, BC, hooray!

Photos: 1) Bristlecone pine forest; this tree is over 4,000 years old. 2)Just one more Sierra glacial valley.

2007-05-19T13:24:00.001-07:00

Yomsemite Slabs

Sierra Mountains

Joshua Tree Granite

2007-04-22T10:05:00.000-07:00

Lately or

Spring in California

Lately I've been busy. Busy working. But it's not work at the monotonous grindstone that sucks the life from you. It's constant work, outdoors, in the wind and rain, with students and friends, in some of the most beautiful places California has to offer. It is 7 days a week. It involves big weekend drives (or boat rides). We are often tired, muddy, cold, up too early, sore, sleepy, eyes full of sand, dehydrated, numb, annoyed – I love it.

Weeks go by quickly. Outdoors constantly, we move at a different speed. No faster, nor slower, but different.

Naturalists At Large has become a comfortable home throughout the entirety of California. Already this season we have braved the harsh spring elements and floated the lower Colorado, explored the empty beaches of Catalina, and relaxed under Joshua Tree starry nights. Needless to say I have stayed far away from the trappings of the computerized world and the blog-o-sphere of the 21^st century has seemed so distant and insignificant.

Photos: Checking the weather radio for winds; Taylor Lake, Lower Colorado River.

Michelle sneaking in a well-deserved break; Catalina Island.

Band practice N.A.L. Style; Pinnacles National Monument.

2007-03-04T21:30:00.000-08:00

The image of tropical jungle fruit jumped out at me as I scanned through the photos today.

Surely, the cold grays of northeast washington added contrast to the photo from outside the window.

Freezing fog, decending from the PNW wintery cloud mass would, without-a-doubt, finish off these sweet southerners.

I was worried the jungle fever had gotten to me.

Then I remembered, I was merely a visitor in the tropics.

We are skiing again tall firs and pines of home-

faring well amongst the icy forests of the north.

2007-02-08T23:34:00.000-08:00

Note: In just days we'll be touching back down on Californian soil so I figure I should round up the last part of our roadtrip, though I will surely post much reflection and photos from the last three months once back in front of my familiar Viao. Thailand has prompted many thought proviking questions and ideas within my own head I will share them on the blog. Thai politics and healthcare and food and city-life have all been enlightening experiences for me and I hopefully will touch on all those and more in future blogs.
1000 kilometers continued... (Part 3)
Switchbacks, wilderness, and tourist towns

After the action-packed first two days of our trip we found ourselves worn out by the constant back-to-back new experiences. Doi Inthanon had been such a roller-coaster of emotions and travel - going from natural scenery, to guided hikes, to hill-tribe villages, to rough driving can easily make one day seem like three - so the next day we stuck to the winding yet paved route across many small ranges of tree-covered mountains. Villages were sparse, the road was in surprising good shape besides the frequent construction zones where no flagger or sign stood to tell of the forthcoming danger. Many times we dodged large construction machinery and a motorbike carrying an entire Thai family simultaneously. We took two small side roads to explore viewpoints and a developed, though natural, hot spring that the Thais were using to boil eggs. We broke our own rule and drove the last hour to Sappong in the dark weaving through construction barriers and makeshift bridges. We found, in a newly developed tourist area coined the "wilderness adventure center" a quaint and tasteful bamboo and wood bungalow complete with hot shower, western toilet, and fluffy bedding. It set us back 500baht ($15) and attested to the amazing comforts one may live in while in Thailand. For the entire trip we have teased that we had finally made to the middle-class; of course it required a flight half-way around the world to get there.

The next day we followed a recoomendation in the Thailand Rough Guide (a rarity) and went to find the Cave Lodge, rumored to have fresh baked goods and helpful maps of the limestone region in which we roamed. The Cave Lodge, while not overly-friendly, did indeed make up a decent western breakfast and had many poster board signs mapping out the regions many adventures. The staff their served as guides for the area's internationally acclaimed caves - the Australlian owner had been involved in many university sponsored research projects that had mapped 1000s of archelogical sites and worked to put Northern Thailand on the map in terms of noteworthy karst topography. We weren't about to pay $20 for a short kayak trip through an underground cave, so we talked them out of a hand-drawn mapped and pointed the Suzuki for a small forest road that may lead us to the outlet of a huge underground river.

After just a few kilometers down the very rough mud track we came to a gate, through big enough for a car we decided to park in the bushes and jump the fence. We aimed down through big cows with horns and came across a river and dam that was indicated on our photocopied map. We committed to the shallow river corrdior (it is the dry season here and the river was running slow with many sandbars) and began to work our way upstream towards what we hoped would be a large cave. Along the river we saw colorful birds unlike anything before and the water was clear and cool (also abnormal). We turned many bends and began to be enclosed on both sides by limestones walls. Thousands of swifts darted overhead. Both good signs that a cave was nearby. Sure enough around the next corner was a gapping hole about 200 feet high, the river and the swifts poured from its mouth. We entered the edge of the cave on a sandbar. The smell was pungent and intense as we dodged bird bombs. Our plan was to continue up river, up to our knees if nessecary once entering the cave. A very old and thin Thai man tended what looked to a broken raft at the entrace, seemingly not noticing the otherworldy number of birds about him. There was a man-made dam were the river met the light of day backing up the water, we entered the water but our small LED headlamps penetrated very little into the darkness. The water deepened as did the dark. We turned back.

Again at the caves mouth we found the Thai man now loading two tourists onto his raft. We agreed on a price though we did not know how he would paddle or pole us up the river. Once loaded another Thai lady came with lantern, the thin old man grabbed a rope and start pulling the entire boat upstream into the darkness. We immediatly both felt bad about the work he was doing for us, and relaized our mistake, for the river agained turned shallow just after our point of turning back. The current strengthen and the Thai lady began to push as well. We looked at each other decided whether it would be more rude to get off and walk next to the boat or just let them work for us as agreed. Through the cave was nothing short of amazing, huge caverns off to the left and right. More tourist rafts came and past, lighting the entire massive cavern. We approach the daylit entrace of the cave and I couldn't stand being pulled anymore so I hoped off the raft to walk - the Thai's seemed very perplexed but said nothing. At the cave entrance, we were welcomed by other That guides that wanted to take us back through the cave with better lights. It seemed required, but somehow with snuck off back into the dark waters to explore by ourselves the massive side caverns with classic cave formations and rickety bamboo ladders. We found our way back to the Suzuki and went straight back to Sappong for a couple of Thai noodle bowls.

The afternoon was still young so we headed out of town of another 4WD rode that was signed to Suza Waterfall, after 5 stream crossings and 14km of following what can only be described as a wilderness river we came to an impressive waterfall series pouring from a limestone jungle delta into the river. After another lonely and tourist-less hike we retraced our rough road under darkening skies and made to the tourist trap town of Pai again in the dark. We located a cheap but rustic bamboo hut and took to the streets to people watch the many many western and Thai tourists. We met some new friends from Slovenia and assured them that travelling in the US would not be like the Chainsaw Massacre. It was a good end to a very long two days.

The road back to Chaing Mai from Pai is winding and busy and littered with potholes and cattle. But once out of the mountains the road turned to nearly a freeway and the rugged Thai frontier is replaced for rice paddys, homes, and businesses. We felt happy to be back at home in Chaing Mai - happy we had an established base camp here - and, after unloading, went straight to our favorite Northern Thai resturant for Khao Soi (tumeric egg noddle soup) and Thai ice tea with milk. The bustling street which we sat along reminded us we were no longer on the frontier.

Photos: 1)The Suzuki makes one of many stream crossings 2)Not all Thai roads are 4WD; the good highway back to Chaing Mai 3)The border of Myanmar (Burma) is nicely signed; atleast you know where the trail goes 4) Michelle shoots Suzu falls 5)Michelle has papaya with a friendly Thai border gaurd overlooking the Burmese hills

2007-02-07T04:35:00.000-08:00

1000 Kilometers In Thailand's Wild Frontier: Part 2
If we were looking for adventure we found it

After exploring the diverse but relatively sterile and benign Doi Inthanon National Park we were ready to visit more remote sites in the northwest. Immediately after crossing the park boundary we took a steep and roughly paved road the switchbacked to a small but worthwhile series of waterfalls. It was a big change to be all alone sitting alongside a Thai river. The park, who's watersheds fed the stream we sat by, was full of people (though predominantly Thai). We were happy to have a relaxed short hike and lonely clear pools all to ourselves. Instead of retracing the steep paved road from the falls we turn out of the parking area following signs in Thai script. Immediately the road turned to dirt and we began to see signs (in Thai, though we now recognized the white on green lettering) hinting of tribal villages ahead. I shifted the Suzuki into 4WD and wecrawled slowly over muddy boulders and navigated off-angle half-gravel half-sand swichbacks to an unknown goal.

At a dusty intersection at a mountain pass we pulled into a village with a small handful of what I think were Hmong villagers. The Hmong are mountain people that have immigrated from Burma, they are firmly holding onto their culture as the 21st century decends upon them. They are animists (worship and give thanks to many 'natural' gods), dress in traditional colorful costume, and are known for thier skill in farming both opium and hemp. Just ten years ago visting this region would have been much more precarious, for these Burmese border villages were second only to Afganistan in opium (the raw ingredients for herion) production. Agressive efforts by the Thai governments, and especiallly the Thai royal family, have helped these tribes to trade poppy farms for cold vegetable crops such and cabbage, onions, and cut flowers. In turn the stilted homes of the Hmong are now adorned with satelites and solar panels - the streets in the villages are generally paved. Officially, poppy fields are gone and opium production is now "negligiable." It has been hard for us to determine whether the new crops equal the income of an expensive drug crop and how the villages are faring after a disjunct drug war/rehabiltation program that has spanned many erratic Thai central governments. English information on these subjects is, naturally, hard to come by. When we pulled into Mae Noi we could do little more than communicate the direction of our next mapped destination. Some villagers gave slight smiles, though others offered more baffled looks, as they tended their pigs and many small children. The women were generally more friendly and returned our waves - the children most always smiled and waved and sometimes ran alongside the jeep.

The road from the village was tracked with hooves, feet, and motorbikes. Our jeep left the only 4-wheeled tracks in the thick dust. We decended grades of atleast 20-25% through cabbage and other small agriculture plots. It only thing I can compare it to was maybe driving in snow, where too much braking only rendered your front tires useles for steering so it became an uncomfortable balance of sliding without direction and gaining speed while steering. There was no way we would be able to climb this loose road to return the way we came. Decent was the only option. More small stilted homes appeared, rice paddys hinted that we had dropped over 1500 meters in elevation. Signs in Thai indicated more villages may be ahead, our map was vague but encouraging. We passed a single wooden and bamboo house with a rusted Toyota truck (a good sign) and then crossed a small wooden bridge to a graded road. We weaved through dense mixed-race villages to the town of Mae Chaem. We filled our empty stomachs and gas tank, used our map to locate a clean, friendly and cheap hotel ($8), and settled in along a small river at the edge of town.

2007-02-05T04:15:00.000-08:00

1000 Kilometers of Thai Roads: Part One
Doi Inthanon National Park (day 1 and 2)

When we walked out to our rental 4WD last weekend we thought our agent, Mr. Dang, may be playing a joke on us. Our Suzuki 1.3L Carabin with oversized tires, spotlight, and brush gaurd had one other notable aftermarket addition: a sticker of a classic American Indian pasted across the entire passenger door. call it what you will; fitting, dumb-luck, ironic, or just plain bizarre, the little Indian would accompanying us (touting our American roots to every passing Thai) along our 600 mile roadtrip through the Northwestern Thai frontier.

The Mae Hong Song province of Northern Thailand is a jumble of folded mountain ranges that marks the true terminus of the Himilayan range. The hills our covered with decidious jungle species in the low elevations and evergreen species remniscent of Olympic National Park at high elevations. In between (in whats called an ecotone) many environs come together to host a outrageous diversity of birds and mixes familiar species with those of unfamilar jungle (i.e. pines live side by side with philodendrons and climbing orchids). The largest National Park in Thialand (boasting Thaialnd's highest point) is here, the Burmese border paralells the highway often, a handful of native and refugee hill-tribe people reside here (some in inaccessable primitive villages), there are wilderness rivers, an incredible limestone (karst) region with internationally impressive caves, rough Thai towns and friendly westernized towns, and endless unmapped rough roads perfect for our underpowered but capable rental 4WD.

The plan for our weeklong trip was simple: buy a good map (we used a GPS-based map for western motorcyclers), see Doi Inthanon National Park, go places without tourists, get the jeep dirty, check out some hill-tribe viallges, and don't get stuck! The first day we made the short trip down the maintained highway from Chaing Mai to the entrace of massive Doi Inthanon. We planned only one National Park visit since on January 1 the entrace fee increased from 200 to 400 baht. The entrace fee for Thais remains 40 baht. I have spent enough hours ranting about this blatant and twisted two-tierd pricing that is used by the Thai government, but will spare you all with most of barrage that Michelle had endured (but, just imagine for one second the U.S. Parks started charging different prices for different nationalities- a very slippery slope).
Whatever the case we entered Doi Inthanon for the price it took to rent the car and buy the gas to drive it there. The road began to climb steeply, we entered a world unlike anything we had yet seen in Thailand and the cost of the journey easily faded away. We took the first jeep road we saw and ended up, many rough miles later, in a village where all the local people could do was stare. Though they seem to share one old Toyota truck for trips to bring their harvest of flowers and vegetables to market we must have been quite a sight - I waved, they waved cautiously back. We made a slow turn and retaced our steps to the travelled paved road of the park. We followed tourist signs and saw impressive waterfalls ringed by diverse jungle. That night we rented a cheap tent and sleeping bags and spent our coldest night in Thailand huddled around a charchol fire at 2000 meters in the park's only campground. It was a quiet night, and we were reminded of how accustomed to down feather and inflatable mats and the comforts of camping we had become. Even though we spend maybe half the year outdoors somehow sleeping under the Thai stars felt new and exciting.

Nearing the top of this broad mountain called Inthanon you come across an awkward yet beautiful sight. Two twin towers rising from the side of the mountainous jungle. In Thai they are reknowned 'chedi', built as a tribute to the King and Queen's 50th birthday in 1987 and 1992, respectively.
They are of stone and marble and gold and are surrounded by well kept gardens. The views are spectacular. We arrived in the evening, just before closing, and watched the sun melt into the Burmese hills and the towers were reflected into the flower ringed pools.
Also above 2500 meters in Inthanon are two worthwhile nature trails. The first is a short boardwalk at the highest point in Thailand. It weaves through evergreen forests with ferns and vines and endemic epiphytes (air plants) and song birds. We walked along the interpretive path feeling quite at home in the damp temperate rainforest. The second nature trail is 4kms and even though we tried to walk it by ourselves we were motioned over to a small booth were a local Thai explained we would need a guide. We agreed to pay and left with a friendly Thai named Egk who pointed out in simple English mushrooms and orchids and other photgenic plants. The trail was quite impressive touring through jungle, and then savanah, then a forest of endemic (native only to this region of Thailand) tree-sized rhododenrons, and then riparian jungle with blueberries and amazing Sunbirds (also endemic). All the while We looked steeply over broken limestone crags into the deep canyons and ravines pouring from Thailand's highest summit.

After our guide returned us to the trailhead we finished our tour of the park with lunch from the hill-tribe vendors just across the parking lot. Northern style spicy and savory sausage and wierd parts of chickens BBQ'd, served with sticky pasty rice and red pepper sauce. We began the slow decent to a saddle and felt the cold mountain air slowly being replaced with more familiar warmth of the lowlands. Just after crossing the park boundary and heading further to the west we took another unsigned forest road and found ourselves holding dearly to the sides of the Suzuki as we slide and drove down some of the steepest roads I've driven in my life - but I'll save that for part two!

Photos: 1)The best little 4Wd 2)The twin chedi at sunset 3)happy to camping thai-style 4)stone carvings depicting prehistoric Thailand ringing the King's chedi 5)One of Doi Inthanon's many waterfalls 6)classic hill-tribe village stilted wooden and bamboo home

2007-01-27T02:39:00.000-08:00

Keeping Busy: Thai Style

A week seemed to go quickly by in Chiang Mai this January. Though it is January, and most likely wintery in your neck of the woods here in Thailand the weather has an amazing way of hovering around 90 degrees. In the sun it is always hot, but in the shade, with a dry breeze, it is almost always pleasant. While the first part of the week saw both Michelle and I continuing to fight one Thai nasty bug or another by the end of the week we were back in action – this time tirelessly touring the Thai countryside by motorbike – once again.

We have fully embraced the 125cc motorbike – as nearly the entire Thai population has - as the perfect tool for exploring small rural villages, endless craft fairs, winding forest roads, and smoggy, clogged city streets. In just a handful of days we have covered many kilometers of Thai side roads and been thoroughly amazed with the continued diversity of this country. We climbed through hilly broken concrete roads, unable to read each and every sign in Thai script, and were rewarded with views over the entire valley from perched atop a massive earthen dam. The dam formed a large reservoir, reminiscent of the manmade lakes the dot the Pacific Northwest, and the drying jungle-coated hills could have dotted many a New England hill, but somehow there was still some things very Thai about the landscape.

For one thing, on this weekday, we were nearly the only one enjoying the ‘recreation area.’ No motor boats humming across this lake, only silent smoke rising from the valley below as rice farmers burned their fields and ditches. The air is always noticeably thick in Thailand, but on this day the heavy air only served to insulate us from the sounds of the world below us. The lake and dam and small landscaped park floated lonely in the sky – kick starting our motorbike was an awkward break in the silence.

Back in Chiang Mai we find ourselves indulging in the options of the Thai city. Fresh orange juice for 50 cents, endless bizarres and markets selling so many things we’ve never seen before, constant temptations of ‘nearly free’ pirated software and movies, street food with unknown names, malls with Western familiarities priced in baht, and colorful Thais smiling, and working, and casually keeping busy. On the weekends the night bizarre comes to us and vendors move onto the plaza just outside our door. Stalls – most attached precariously to a motorbike – sell strawberry shakes, pork skewers, sticky rice, vats of curries, and parts of fish we’ve not yet ventured to eat.

In narrow alleys between the food vendors are jewelry vendors and hill-tribe peoples, shop owners and home-craftmans, each tucked under an umbrella and a single bare lightbulb patiently organizing their wares to attract Western tourists and Thais alike. Again, these affairs have the air of being both casual and bustling – it is a line the Thais have learned to walk well. We also continue our casual pace, heading out tomorrow in a rented Suzuki jeep for an larger adventure to the northwestern hills. We’ve embraced the modus operandi of our host country: keeping busy though sometimes it doesn’t look like it.

2007-01-20T04:07:00.000-08:00

Settled in to our new Chiang Mai home

It's been quite a different Thailand expereince since Michelle and I arrived in the north last week. Neither one of us have had the motivation (as we continue fight off random ills) to make the journey to the rock climbing areas so we've occupied ourselves with the amazing array of city sights and shopping adventures near our home at the city center. We have checked out everything from the night bazaar to the random Asian mall and been both amused and enlightened. I learned to enjoy shopping (probably because I can actually afford to buy cool stuff) and have sampled another wide range of Thai delicacies and gross-a-ties.

Chiang Mai is nothing short of amazing and beautiful. The bus system is nothing more than a bunch of trucks with seats in the back picking up anyone that waves them down. They are called share-taxis, but in the Thai the literal translation in two-rows (since you sit in two facing rows in the back of a pick-up) and the fare is always fixed. It's a solution to public transportation that seems both brilliant and haphazard. Add in many handfuls of three-wheeled tuk-tuk taxis that'll get you anywhere twice as fast for twice as much and you have an incredibly accessiable city. Everything seems nearby, and there is indeed always something to see right around the corner.

Of course, our third common transportation, and by far our favorite, is the 100cc motorbike. For next to nothing you can rent one of these babies for the day and explore the smogless, cooler countryside of the north. On our last journey we were amazed at the views and rugged topography as we climbed through the windy hills. This is the land where the jungle meets the pines and just over the next hills are the mystical and rough-and-tumble regions of the Burmese and Loa borders. In these hills many native 'hill-tribes' still exists in reportedly 'primitives' villages. Maybe you've seen the long-necked Karen women in an old national geographic - visiting the Karen is likened to a 'human zoo' by Lonely Planet so we don't plan on making that trip - but you get the point, these are isolated native peoples with interesting and one-of-a-kind cultural heritage.

It doesn't take a long journey from town to realize just how much open countryside there is in Thailand's north and while we live in a modern, fairly westernized big city, villagers from the rural regions mix in with the urban Thais to sell their crafts and return their earnings to their families. The whole thing becomes a jumble of cultures and economies and one begins to understand how so many challenges have come about by the attempted integration of these tribes. For, just 10 years ago some of these rural peoples were growing over 90% of the world's opium and many have fled to Thailand to escape more repressive governments in their homelands. The situation is a bit more complex than I can describe here, but it's a new outlook of native lifestyles that Michelle and I our struggling to understand.

Not all our adventures have been natural, culturally sensitive affairs. In Chaing Mai I have overcome two dislikes of travelling: touristy activities and shopping. Shopping, as stated above, is just too fun and diverse to pass up, tourist attractions, the same. From elephant camps to snake charmers to insects museums and monkey shows, Chaing Mai has it's fair share of attractions the cater to the western tourist. We have given in - and plan to give in again - to these diversions. The monkey show can not fully be described in words, yet one thing was made clear: these monkeys are in training to pick coconuts, and even though they were on leashes for our protection 'they are released to a large jungle area to play and relax' when the tourists leave. Well... atleast their fed well with our 200baht ticket money - and those monkeys sure can peddle a big tricycle! Hope all is well with everyone... i and m

2007-01-14T20:57:00.000-08:00

Photos: (U)Bells at Wat Suphet. In the 13th century a glowing relic was enshrined here after it miraculously divided. The holiest site in Northern Thailand. (L) A small side street in Bangcock or soi that is being prepared for a festival. The flags hanging are the Thai flag and the yellow flag is that of the King.

2007-01-10T22:34:00.000-08:00

Tonsai - Moving fast (for Thai time)

Two months went by so quickly. We have been living in the dense jungle and walking the dirt tracks of Tonsai town enough days to nearly call it home now. Yet, there are parts of the Pha Nang penninsula I wouldn't want to point out if it was my home.For while I have discovered so many magical places exploring the caves and coves paradise, there is no denying the impacts continued tourist pressure brings to the shores.

The constant hum of generator mixes with the drone of unmuffled longtail engines. The limestine towers serve only to reverberant the sounds of transportation and electricity. Plumbing is a maze of pipes crisscrossing the streets and paths, freshwater barrells sit open on hillsides, the garbage pile just off our porch grows daily, otherwise we are woken by the smell of burning plastic. Talking with the early climbers in Tonsai one can easily imagine how much this place has changed in just maybe 10 years. Climbing brought people to Tonsai, but no longer do they make up the bulk of the tourist load. Everyone enjoys the warm sea water and outstanding beauty, climbing helped Tonsai rival neighboring and swanky Railey.

We were, no one is, exempt in impacting Tonsai. Wee told me 12 years ago he swam in a fresh water pool at the base on Tonsai crag. Since then the freshwater has be diverted and the pool built over with the freedom bar. He's Thai and, alongside many American climbers developing the routes here, built tonsai into a world-recognized climbing destination. I am (just as every other visiting tourist climber is) indebted and thankful of these climbers that put this place on the map, yet I am cautious just how many maps to tonsai there will be.

Without a doubt, climbing an airy corner, steming in limetsone pockets and clipping titanium staples 1000 feet above the deep green Andaman sea is a special moment for any rock climber. Words can not describe the intensity of the steep, pocketed, and often exposed climbing here. It is challengeing yet friendly, melting hot but always sheltered from the rain, through jungle and up fixed ropes. Chasing lines of bolts up asthetic featured limestone in a beachside paradise is still that (no matter what): paradise.

In the photos: The fixed lines leading from the jungle shelf to the base of Thaiwand wall. the banana spider living just outside our bungalow. Michelle surveying the setting sun from railay west, and me "chok dee" the streetside beer salesman in Aonang town.

2007-01-04T22:04:00.000-08:00

The Jungle Hut (B-1)

If rustic jungle living is what your after then this studio is for you! Just up the street from the cheapest beer storein town and if you want 40 baht beef noodle soup from a frothy boiling vat then this is the place for you.

Just off the porch your find a banana spider larger than your hand and in the evenings monkeys and wildly colored squirrels will drop nuts and branches on your roof to keep you on your toes. The shower is cold but nicelytiled and the bug nets only have a few small holes.

Could be yours for just under 500 baht per night. That is of course when we move out and head to Chaing Mi Jan. 11th. Another week of climbing and melting into the one of a kind tonsai life before we trade the two months of seaside adventuring for some terrain a bit more mountainous.

2006-12-31T22:33:00.000-08:00

2007 has come and gone for us here in Tonsai. The fake Christmas trees have been taken down and all the fireowrks have been exploded. And hopefully the Pha Nang penninsula will start clearing out. The last few weeks had by far been the busiests and Tonsai takes on a european feel, as the Thais are severly outnumbered by climbers and tourists. Last night (as the Americans were just waking up to New Year's eve) we went down to the beach. It was essentially a club in the sand with DJs and fireworks and buckets of beverages. I spent Christamas and other days real sick and not leaving the house so it was fun to be back out on the beach again watching the rice paper laterns and Western New Years revelry mix into the already ecclectic mix of Tonsai evenings.

Climbing has been teasing both Michelle and I. After a successful onsight of 4 pitch Humanality 6b+ just days before Christmas (and Michelle leading a series of technical 6as) I was ready to step up any a longer list of steep limestone pocket routes. Christamas eve though began 5 days of mystery Thai sickness that is taking time to recover from. The only benefit is the weight I lost is translating to feeling a little lighter on the crag, but almost a week off from climbing has definently taken some wind out of our sails. The last few days we warmed back up to the idea of pulling on tropical stone with amazing routes at the far right of Thaiwand wall and steep and crimpy routes in the shade of the deep jungle at Wee's Present Wall. The prominent peak at the penninsula's end, Thaiwand, beckons to be climbed again and again - higher and by many varying cool routes. Dangling above the sea one is always reminded just how fun climbing is!

more photos soon: limited internet here in the land cliffs and rain

2006-12-21T23:59:00.000-08:00

A Tonsai climbing update

Michelle gets after it

After our visa-renew, adventure roadtrip to Malaysia through southern Thailand the rustic bungalows of westernized Tonsai were a happy and one-of-a-kind place to return to. It felt awkward returning the steep limestone cliffs after a week of not climbing but after a day Michelle and I were climbing apon the laurels of or previous month of steep pocket training. The climbing in Tonsai is indeed like none other and nothing but climbing itself can prepare one for both the mental and physical stamina required to get up dramatically overhanging routes. Even routes rated 6a or 6b (5.9-10b) are steep and demand muscle, good footwork, and a head for air beneath the feet.

Most climbers who have investiagted a trip to thailand know of the ongoing bolt problems here. Basically every kind of protection bolts used for rock climbing across the world fails here within a few years. Stainless stee, the obvious and standard choice for bolts worldwide breaks down abnormally fast thanks to a combination of intense sun, heat, salt water, and chemicals present in this particular limestone (some folks are saying chlorine gas, but I know too little of chemistry to understand the further complexities). What it comes down to is that anything that isn't new or rebolted is dangerous. For the last few years route builders here have been exploring many option for bolting and now all new bolts are titanium stables or bolts glue-in with super-epoxy - these work, but not without a cost.. Thousands of dollars have gone into equipping the routes here in tonsia, few passing tourists/ climbers recognize this. A few handful of devoted climbers put Tonsai on the climbing map, and many folks (including multinational development companies) are reaping the benefits.

We have been lucky to meet a collection of these Tonsai climbers. Our neighbors, lucky for us, are retroboltng routes daily, and then passing the bolting information on in the evenings. The result: we climb routes that have been lost to obscurity for a few years that are now equiped with titanium bolts just days old - a treat. Add oustanding views, technical and steep climbing on sometimes sharp sometimes flawlessly smooth limestone, cave features, open jungle and ocean below, and you've got a recipe for outstanding rock climbing.

There are always areas to explore. We hike through the jungle, traverse across ledges, wade across sand spits at low tide to reach islands in search of new crags. We are always rewarded with clean climbing in outstanding positions, and are continually challenged by the heat, bugs, and sheer steepness of Tonsai rock. These challenges, after a month, have indeed made us stonger. Michelle is leading 10s high above the ground and looking strong, I am feeling more comfortable than ever on very overhanging ground. Each day we return to our buggy and slighty ghetto bungalow and are happy with our increasing strength and confidence apon jungle stone. The areas come with telling names as well: Hidden World, Cobra Wall, Jungle Gym, Fire Wall, Monkey World, The Nest, and Wild Kingdom. We are truely climbing in a new land.

In the pictures: Michelle leans back from the third anchor of The Wave 6b/10c (5 pitches). Thaiwand wall is across the bay and Tonsai beach is below. Michelle lead the 6b crux pitch and I the rest on this outstanding moderate 100 meter route. Also pictured: approaching most crags means walking across sunny beaches and a few steps up through the jungle; Thaiwand wall (which the guidebook calls tropical alpine climbing) through a regular afternoon thunderstorm.

2006-12-15T19:35:00.000-08:00

Road trip completed
Don't let anybody tell you you can't drive in Asia

After and short week Michelle and I have made it back to AoNang intact and happy. Unexpectedly we travelled 1500 km all the way through southern Thailand, down into Malaysia to georgetown, and then back up again. Every minute was nothing short of exciting. We stayed in a different random bungalow or hotel each night except for in Panang where we just could leave the wonderfully clean and handy SD guesthouse on Love Lane. though we didn't plan it while in Panang we were able to secure a 60 day thai visitor visa so we won't be held to anymore dates of departure and can stay in the country until our flight Feb 11.

The lands of thailand (formerly known as Siam) are diverse and mostly wild. We saw many waterfalls pouring over limestone cliffs and met many friendly locals, with which we could not converse with but who were nonetheless happy to drink ad eat with us and laugh. the kids here are especially interested in us,as they know basic English, are sometimes the most fun for us to hang out with. In Satun we stumbled across an amazing terranced waterfall liek a mix of Yellowstone and niagra and we jumped from cliffs and swam with many local kids while the dad's rolled us Thai cigarettes in their primitive bamboo papers. They feed us for what is less that a US dollar and we shared the beers we had bought.

The roads weave through limetsone towers and along mangrove swamps. there are some 4-lane highways but the second lane is used for thais most common transport: the vespa. These 120-200 cc motorbikes are everywhere here. We have seen up to 5 school kids riding one home from school. We have also seen entire Muslim families weaving through rush hour traffic with the women sitting sidesaddle holding an infant. The Thais are truely industrius and many laws like seat belts and helmets that out governments impose apon us to keep us 'safe' haven't quite caught on in Thailand.

Ao Nong feels welcoming and homely now we are back. This afternoon we will hop the usual longtail taxi back around the penninsula to Tonsai and hopefully move back in to our very comfortable stilted bungalor called Countryside. Tonsai is exciting to retuurn to though we now know how inflated theprices are there, after so much time psent in touristless Thailand. We keep reminding ourselves we are paying still so much less than anything comparable in the US and that beachside, climbing side paradise is a hot commodity where one may be in the world.

2006-12-13T07:51:00.000-08:00

!Road construction!

Not to worry, this bridge is just the temporary until the new concrete one (seen to the right) replaces it.

In this region of Trang, Thailand road construction was the norm, though warning signs, orange cones, and flaggers are nowhere to be found. This area was undoubtedly affected by the tsunami in December 2004 and many on these bridges and coastal roads are being rebuilt by a handful of Thai guys wearing flipflops.

2006-12-13T07:23:00.000-08:00

Culture shocked
out of our culture shock
Southern Thailand's remote hill towns to unexpected Malaysia big city

Georgetown, Penang, Malaysia

Krabi, Thailand is far to the north now. We have made it many kilometers to the south and successfully entered Malaysia on our climbing/cultural/visa renewal roadtrip. Call us Americans, but once again the automobile has proved one of the finest ways to explore the countryside. Driving is starting to feel normal - right-hand drive, suicidal bus drivers, goats sleeping in the fast lane, a 10:1 ratio of vespas to cars, chickens, thai letters on street signs, pot holes, wooden bridges, - despite the occasional twists ands u-turns we must make to find our way.

We had planned to enerted Malaysia and climb just over the border at a small park. After chasing a flying squirrel out of one of the holds, bushwacking through the jungle, being unable to pay to enter with local currency, walking a bizarre hanging bridge through a cave and raging dark river, and blistering hot and humid temps we were able to make it up one 5.10b on grungy jungle limestone. Without a village near the park and without Malaysian ringlet we had to travel further to Kandar to find a bank, gas, and food. We stayed in out first hotel (50 ringlet) and ate out first bread and cheese in a long time (Pizza Hut).. Malaysia was an unexpected change (very developed and quite English) and so we were tempted further south into the country today searching for both granite cliffs and a little longer taste of things familiar.

We found it on Pedang island. High rise hotels, English pubs, wedged in between chinesse food stall and kebab stands. Driving was the most intense today and I think both Michelle and I are still trying to relax from the 4 lane changes across 100 motorbikes at interstate speeds without a single vehicle using a signal. Downtown was even more intense and the only savior was the AC in our Suzuki - a luxury as temps are well over a 100F, 36C.

In search of a small climbing area and 'the oldest rainforest in Malaysia' tomorrow. then a more direct route back to the north and Tonsai. Wishing you all well... i and m

2006-12-09T23:35:00.000-08:00

The roadtrip begins -

To think... just yesterday we were daggling above the sea climbing a limestone tower and belaying from a longtail boat. Today we are careening around corners amongst mopeds and trucks in the rurals roads of Southern thailand..
Notice in the pictures Michelle is waving from the left side of the car. The Sporty is righthand drive and a 5-speed - two days and I'm finally driving on teh right (or left) side of the road!

2006-12-09T23:16:00.000-08:00

Tonsia - Home sweet home

Stage One of our Thailand journey has concluded. We spent almost a month in the perfect international climbing village on Tonsai, Krabi. We climbed over the sea and the in the middle of the jungle. We faught heat and bugs and sharp yet slippery approaches and waded through the sea and talked our twisted stomachs into many a climbing day.

Evenings in Tonsai are beyond relaxing, since every bar in town lays blankets in the sand that are overtaken b y the incoming evening tide. Music is everywhere, fire spinning, BBQs and, Beer Chang are the norm.

Since tourist visas in thailand are only issued for 30 days we are now in the middle of a weeklong roadtrip to Malaysia to get the ever important border stamp before returning to Tonsai for atleast another month. Our adventure in Southern Thailand is thusfar been a cultural expereince and we see things around every corner that is like nothing else we have ever seen before. Driving is quite eventful. Though we a discovering the vibe and comfort of our Tonsai hom eis unmatched and we look forward to returning to Krabi.

The days are constantly busy here even though everyting seems to move very slowly around us. Sometimes the hardest parts of our day is finding something to eat that we can make out what is in it. Communicating is always a challenge and sometimes its just easier to find another eatery than continue to struggle to pick something off the menu. So, admittedly we are limited to businesses that present info in western script - thai characters are nothing but pretty calligraphy to us.

The journey continues and we will surely put up some pictures from our roadtrip with the 2 seater Suzuki Sporty 4WD. Til then -

2006-11-29T20:05:00.001-08:00

Thailand Living...

Whether it's riding around the city on a motorbike or treading through water with packs over your head to go climbing or drifting on a longtail canoe...everyday is an adventure here in Thailand.

2006-11-12T21:23:00.000-08:00

Happy Halloween

and

We're outta here

Tomorrow, Monday, we leave California and our amazing NAL season behind and make our way to Thailand. We will fly all the way to Krabi, were we will then make a bee-line for the ferry docks. We will board a longtail boat headed for Tonsai. Tonsai will be home for the next three months. We may take some sidetrips, but the plan is to take a break from all our driving and endless miles earned during the fall and just be somewhere. It sounds too good to be true: cheap everything, sandy beaches, tropical snorkeling, and rock towers looming above it all. Paradise? We hope so. We'll let you know...
~til then,
Ian and Michelle

2006-08-31T11:23:00.000-07:00

Trading the mountains
for the ocean

Life continues in Ventura. It is like never left the refuge of the commercial warehouse I call home each fall. The southern coast of California is now being bathed in the warmest water of the season. Since there are no rocks to be climbed near coastal Ventura I gave in and bought a wet suit. Kindly Naturalists at Large loaned out their boogie boards and Michelle and I headed to the beach. During the relaxing week of NAL PC meetings we couldn't help to give in to the California vibe and relax on the sand.

Don't think it's all fun and games down here in Ventura. The fall season of NAL is looking huge and I've spent my fair share of time in the office prepping for some massive trips I'll be program coordinating. This weekend I head out to Catalina Island for a treat of a trip. I'm sure to send in a lengthy report from the mythical islands next week. Til then-