Over the past week and a half we enjoyed a great visit with Jonathan our 2nd oldest.  For 3 days, Jon and I hiked in Kachemak Bay State Park.  We took a relatively long walk on one of those days and climbed to the Poot Peak Summit.  I've enclosed a few photos of Jon and me on the summit, as well as a photo of Poot Peak from across the bay.  Climbing that peak was a huge challenge, but a wonderful and rewarding experience.  I could have done without the sleet that started soon after we reached the top.  We almost gave up on climbing that last few wet and slippery feet through the loose rocks to make the summit.  We had come to a rock wall that we could have easily climbed up  (with all the hand and foot holds) but were not convinced we could have safely climbed down.  So we made a firm decision to not go the rest of the way.  Then right after deciding that we saw a different way and it was much more doable.  That's how we made it to the top.  Life lesson learned:  sometimes making a firm decision about what not to do, gives the perspective to see clearly what can be accomplished, or maybe even what should be accomplished.  I am looking forward to more hikes in the Kachemak Bay State Park.  I really enjoyed this challenging experience.  But I think I should have started doing things like this before I turned 50!

the trail is so beautifully maintained, it was a pleasure just being there. i highly recommend it to riders with reasonable fitness and confidence in technical riding and trail runners who love a great run in the woods!

comfortably numb 29 sep 08

Skyrocketing oil prices have become a global concern and a source of much debate as to what really lies behind them

IBON Features-- The market price of crude oil has more than doubled over the past year to reach record-high levels of over US$147 per barrel last July. And oil prices continue to fluctuate, with industry players blaming a number of factors, including jitters caused by the current financial crisis in the US. Skyrocketing oil prices have thus become a global concern and a source of much debate as to what really lies behind them.

Executives from the major oil companies who were recently grilled before the US Senate Judiciary Committee once again attributed record-high oil prices to “the fundamental laws of supply and demand.” But while such market factors are responsible to a certain extent for high prices, they do not take into account other factors, such as speculation. Crude oil, also known as petroleum, is the most actively traded commodity in the world, with the largest markets in New York, London and Singapore Exchanges. Prices commonly quoted are those in spot markets (Dubai for crude and MOPS forrefined petroleum products).

In an article that appeared in BusinessWeek in May, Larry Chom, chief economist for Platts (the world’s leading provider of energy information), said that the actual costs in producing the most expensive barrel of oil is only around $70 or $80 a barrel, with the remainder the “market’s risk premium plus speculation”. This implies that the current price of US$147 a barrel is inflated by some $67 to $77 a barrel due to speculation.

Speculation artificially increases oil prices because most oil is not traded in spot or futures markets but through long-term supply contracts. Because ofvertical integration, most oil traded is between TNCs divisions (intra-TNC transactions) and do not need a spot market, yet the amount or the volume of trading in the commodity markets has substantially influenced pricing.

It should be noted, however, that oil transnational corporations, while they may not be directly engaged in speculation, do benefit from it. At the Senate hearing, John Hofmeister, president of Shell Oil, the US arm of Royal Dutch Shell, admitted that his company could be successful with oil prices at $35 to $65 a barrel. A mid-2006 report released by the Bank of Kuwait said that in Saudi Arabia, the break-even point on a barrel of crude is US$33, while in Kuwait it is only US$17. 

Thus, the current US crude-oil futures price represents record windfall profits for the oil companies. Exxon Mobil, the largest oil company, reported record 2007 profit of US$40.6 billion while Royal Dutch Shell reported the largest earnings of any company in Britain of some US$31 billion.

But speculation itself is not enough to explain high oil prices. For that, the structure of the global oil industry itself must be scrutinized. Historically, the global oil market has never enjoyed genuine free competition since it has constantly been dominated by a handful of American and European oil giants. The current term for these oil giants is
“supermajors,”  meaning vertically-integrated private-sector oil and gas companies engaged in all stages of the oil industry-- exploration, production, refining, trading, marketing, and, sometimes, transportation.

The six “supermajors” are: ExxonMobil (US), Royal Dutch Shell (UK-Netherlands), British Petroleum (UK), Total (France), Chevron Texaco (US) and Conoco Philips (US). These six firms jointly account for US$1,482 billion in revenues and US$134 billion in profits as of 2006 according to Fortune magazine. They can also produce more than 80 million barrels per day of crude and refine more than 112 million barrels per day of various petroleum products.

The monopoly control the oil firms exert over the market allows them to manipulate prices. In 2006, for example, the US Commodity Futures Trading Commission filed a civil lawsuit against British Petroleum (BP) North America, alleging that BP traders-- with the consent of senior management-- “purchased enormous quantities of propane” to establish a dominant position in the market and then withhold fuel in order to drive prices higher.

It is also a myth that the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC) dictates world oil prices. Although the OPEC member-countries account for two-thirds of the world’s oil reserves, and, as of March 2008, 35.6% of global oil production, the supermajors still control the infrastructure needed to transport and refine crude oil, and market and retail refined oil products. The supermajors in fact currently account for one-third of global refining capacity.

Meanwhile, Big Oil has also been blaming state-owned oil firms such as Gazprom (Russia) and the National Iranian Oil Company (Iran) for high prices by claiming these firms deliberately maintain low production in the same way OPEC does. In fact, the largest state owned oil firms have been lumped together by analysts as the “New Seven Sisters,” a reference to the seven largest oil firms that controlled the industry in the mid-20th Century. State-owned oil monopolies reportedly account for more than 90% of the world’s oil reserves.

But these claims may only be a ploy to pressure these oil monopolies to allow more investments by the supermajors. Mexico’s constitution since the 1930s has prohibited any foreign investment in the local oil sector. Venezuela, Russia and Ecuador closely collaborated with Western firms in the 1990s but recently started seizing their assets through a series of privatizations. Peter Robertson, vice chairman of Chevron Corp., has said if major oil companies had access to the vast resources of these countries, they would be using their ample profits to pump more oil at cheaper prices.

Locally, the Big Oil TNCs use their monopoly position to manipulate prices. Since oil firms’ purchases are actually under contract arrangements, this provides room for the local subsidiaries of Big Oil to generate more profits by jacking up pump prices whenever the spot market prices goes up, even if their oil prices have been negotiated long before with lower prices. This explains the weekly oil price hikes that have followed in the wake of upward movements in the oil spot market. 

Locally under a deregulated environment, consumers are left with no choice but to bear the brunt of the increases in domestic pump prices caused by speculation and wild price hikes in the global oil market. Meanwhile, speculators and the giant oil companies rake in billion of dollars in profits. 

While it is true that the Philippine government cannot control the activities of the speculators and the giant oil corporations, it can intervene at least in the local oil industry to protect the Filipino consumers. Unfortunately, amid the hardship that Filipinos face because of high oil prices, government continues to waive its authority to regulate the local oil industry.

The weather was back to spectacular, the fog on the lake provided a nice morning.

Any guess on what the common name for this wildflower is? Take a look at the flowers, what do they look like?

When we went to bed the night before we had no idea that we had a view of Mt Jefferson.

It is sad to see the dead soldiers, if you look close though underbrush and new trees are already growing. We hiked through a section of willows that were over our heads.

I put this picture in to show the impact that people have. These meadows are very fragile so trails become permanent.

Nice shot of Three Finger Jack with Wasco Lake in the foreground.

We had thought that we might camp at Wasco Lake, but there was already a camp set there. Much of the area around the lake was burned and there was significant wind downs that eliminated many potential spots. We decided to check out the Canyon Creek Meadow area. Hiking into the area we were surprised by large numbers of day hikers, it is only a couple of easy miles from the Jack Lake Trailhead.

Our camp was on the edge of the meadow in another horse camp. The meadow in front of camp was really something. While pumping water at the creek I was mezmorized by the smell of the flowers and the colage of colors.

The wildflowers were really something. The white flower is called Cat's ear.

We actually didn't see a lot of mosquitoes, but with the moisture around our camp I decided to use my new bug shelter. It worked great, almost too spacious. I have a more detailed blog on this shelter if you want more information.

 We hiked up to the base of the east side of Three Finger Jack. The striations in the rocks were really pretty.

I had to add this shot of a patch of heather, the smell was heavenly.

While sitting by the campfire at night in came a group of deer, they were a bit surprised to see us there.

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Best of L.A. Weekend Guide

Saturday is National Public Lands Day!

It is a day to give back to all of the natural landscapes that offer our children refuge from the city life throughout the year. Get your family to one of the many scheduled events and plant some natives, remove some invasives, or help repair a trail!

Friday 9/26 take your family on an easy Trail to the Stars at the Upper Las Virgenes park to learn more about our starry skies. 7:30 pm, 2hrs. Meet at the Victory entrance.

Saturday 9/27 is National Public Lands Day! Check out the list of events below and find the one that strikes your fancy. There are plenty to choose from:

Debs Park -  (Highland Park area). Weeding, mulching, seed-seeking, and more from 9am - 12pm. Then, celebrate your hard work by dancing to the sounds of a good old-fashioned string band from 1pm - 4pm!

Malibu Creek State Park - Trail repair and maintenence. Join the Santa Monica Mountains Trail Council from 8:30 am - 2:30pm as they beautify the Regan Ranch. Directions and details at the SMMTC website.

Peter Strauss Ranch - (Agoura Hills) Wetland Restoration in the La Sierra Reserve. Remove invasive plant species from 9am - 12pm. Reservations required, 818-591-1701 x 203.

Paramount Ranch - (Agoura Hills) Join a ranger as you not only restore native plants but learn a little about them as well, from 9am - 11am. Meet at parking kiosk.

Angeles National Forest - (North of La Canada) Help the Treepeople plant native pine seedlings from 10am - 1pm.

Sunday 9/28 head on down to Kidspace for their Farmer Day! Your little sprouts will plant fall seeds and meet friendly farm critters for the price of museum admission.

May you and your family have a nature-filled weekend!

- Ilana Gustafson Turner

On day 2 we got a big surprise, we awoke to drizzle. For those of you not from the Pacific Northwest what means is that the air is basically dripping water. The clouds were sitting on the tops of the trees.

The first task for the day was packing up, fortunately for some unknown reason we had made a last minute decision to put up the rain flys so most of the gear was dry. It still meant adding wet tents and tarps to our load.

Even with the dreary weather the country side was beautiful.

We even hit a few small patches of snow.

 As the day went on the weather began to clear. We began to run into more and more people, many had come up from Duffy Lake, only a few mile hike in from there.

 We decided to stop at the Eight Lake basin rather then cross Minto Pass in the bad weather. We lucked out and ran into a group of hikers that had spent the night in the area and they made a suggestion for a camp.

Jorn Lake, the largest lake in the area had several horse camps and a lot of action. We ended up camping on the Southwest edge of Bowerman Lake. Our afternoon was spent with a fire going getting our gear dried out, especially our shoes and socks.

By late in the afternoon the weather was clearing and we began to explore the area.

The fire had been especially intense in the area and so far not much had grown back.

 This photo is a grim reminder of how much damage the fire did.

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Ruins of Montfort Crusader Castle, on a precipitous slope in the Western Galilee, 180m above the Keziv River (and just a few km south of Israel's border with Lebanon). The fortress was built by Templars in the early 1100s, then destroyed by Salah al Din in 1187, reconquered 5 years later and sold to German knights in 1220. In 1271, the Mamluk Sultan Beibars recaptured it for the last time, and the Crusaders fled to Akko. The castle ruins are inaccessible by road but worth the walk.

13 sep osoyoos

nk'mip campgrounds by the lake

14-16 sep rossland-techno grind-kootenay columbia-7summits

lions campgrounds, rode local trails, epic ride 7 summits (LONG ride, almost died)

16-18 sep revelstoke-keystone standard basin

koa campgrounds, rode epic keystone standard basin (beautiful view, super narrow single tracks)

18-20 sep giant cedar-hemlock grove-banff-lake louise-plain of six glaciers-lake minnewanka

tunnel mountain village campgrounds, hiked plain of six glaciers, lake louise, lake minnewanka

20-21 sep icefield parkway-wilcox pass-columbia icefield-jasper-maligne lake

whistlers campgrounds, drove to jasper through the icefield parkway, hiked wilcox pass, columbia icefields, lake magline, national geographic moment of elks rutting (see video)!

the intention was to round the trip with a ride in the lac du bois grasslands in kamloops. however, as the rain we were driving away from finally caught up with us, we whimp-ed and watched csi in a motel instead.

we are now recovering from an overdoes of tenting and sleeping bagging...

•  Distance: 24 Miles
• Elevation: 4600 ft - 6400 ft

 Day 1:

 Prior to arriving at the Trail head you need to purchase a Forest Service Parking permit, there are none available at the trail head. You can get one by stopping by any Forest Service office, we happened to stop at the Sweet Home office which was right on the way. The permit costs $5.00 per day or $30.00 for an annual pass.

Our starting point was the Pacific Crest Trailhead on Highway 20 at the Santiam Pass. After getting a wilderness permit at the trail head we were off.

The first part of the trail followed the PCT before branching off onto Trail 3491. For a couple of miles we hiked through a section that was very devastated by the fire. One outcome of this is that the views, which would otherwise be hidden by the dense forest were now visible. These are views of Mt Washington and the Hoodoo Ski Area.

I was also interested to see how quickly the vegetation is growing back.

 We took a dog along on this trip, and quickly found that whenever there was water; Molly would stop to cool off. This did require that the only thing she could carry in her pack was things that could get wet.

We passed through many meadows, many of which had been snow patches and then marshes just weeks before. In this picture the transition from fire area to unburned area is beginning to show. 

 My hiking partner was my constant teacher, providing the names of wildflowers along the way. Of course I failed the course miserably, but I do enjoy the flowers. Each is unique and has its own special beauty.

Three Finger Jack was our constant companion. This shot is from the Southwest side of the mountain.

 The view from our first night's camp at Lower Berley Lake. The Berley Lake basin is off of the trail and the access trails are not marked. We used the GSP to locate the lakes. There were trails off of the main trail that were marked with piles of rocks that provided the route into the basin. We spent an hour exploring the two main lakes before deciding to camp on the west end of Lower Berley Lake. The camp site had been used by horse campers so were rather well outfitted, although this one didn't have the characteristic nails in the trees that we have found is typical of horse camps.

For an afternoon adventure we scambled up a near by craig hoping to find Craig Lake. As it turns out that lake was some distance away, but the view from the top was worth the climb.

This is a view to the south, with Mt Washington and the North Sister. 

Looking down at our campsite, it is in the trees at the edge of the lake.

 In the evening I decided to give fishing a try. As with many of the mountain lakes the fish are very willing. This lake was reasonable deep and water temperature was cold so the fish were in great shape. I quick caught and released six nice cutthroat trout.

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What kind of a hike a man likes says a lot about him. Today I learned that there are two very different styles of hiking (I'm sure there are more, but for now, these two are startlingly apparent). Barely having recovered from the first day of hiking, we decided to try a more difficult, but shorter hike. The hike to Loch Leven Lakes had an elevation gain of roughly 1,200 feet over 4 miles, for a total out-and-back distance of 8 miles.

The three lakes are named, Low, Mid and High Loch Leven, and they are approached in that order. Most of the elevation gain and mileage occurred before reaching Low Loch Leven Lake. It took a while to get there given the elevation gain, but once there, it was beautiful, but in a way that Lake Tahoe is not. Lake Tahoe, and especially Emerald Bay, is majestic and grand and overwhelming in its beauty. It's like a beautiful woman who knows she's hot. The Loch Leven Lakes with its granite-backed calm waters are subtler, more serene and peaceful, and more private. Even the most crowded of the Loch Leven Lakes, the Low and first one, had one tent and perhaps 15 people and 3 dogs hanging about while we ate our lunch on the rock overlooking the lake. Closet Granola would say that these lakes are more like the girl-next-door, which he has a thing for.

After our picnic lunch, we headed towards Mid Loch Leven Lake, only about 0.5 miles away from the first one. This lake was prettier than the first and had fewer people. Unfortunately, it had one particular person we didn't need to see...Speedo Man. Our comedy show of the day consisted of watching him jump off a rock, in his Speedos, while his friends tried to get the perfect picture of his less-than-acrobatic-moves. I'm not sure what was funnier, the way he looked or the fact that he wanted a picture of it. We tried to ignore him while we sat on our blanket and read our books. This lake has a lot of nooks and crannies that allow for a little privacy...not enough to do anything scandalous, but enough to feel like you're not surrounded by people.

Once our annoyance threshold had reached potentially-dangerous levels, we left and hiked the rest of the way to High Loch Leven Lake, about another 1 mile away. Each lake was prettier and less crowded than the previous and this one was no exception. There was not a single soul up there other than us and we took our time taking pictures of the granite rocks and trees and their reflections in the clear blue of the lake.

After the climax of the hike, it was 4 miles back out to the parking area and almost all downhill. Our poor knees and shins were begging for mercy by the time we got back.

After the hike, I asked Closet Granola which hike he preferred, Emerald Bay or Loch Leven. Being the complete opposites that we are, I preferred Emerald Bay and he preferred Loch Leven. I loved the constant beauty of the Rubicon Trail and how at every turn, it was the same thing but you saw a different side to it. I didn't like that you had to climb over so many rocks with just an ugly view of the highway and nothing pretty to look at or photograph. Not until the end, did you get to see something that made the hike worthwhile. I guess this is the difference between men and women...we prefer the constancy of one wonderful thing because we see it in different ways all the time, while men prefer the chase and the exciting climactic ending.

Overall rating: Pumas

Rating system:

• Heels: So easy you can hike it in heels
• Flip-flops: Too long or hard to hike in heels, but flat flip-flops would work
• Pumas: A nice stroll not much harder than walking in the city
• Trailblazers: If you want to be nice to your feet on this hike, they’ll need some more serious protection and support.
• Hiking boots: Pull out the ugly shoes and summon your closet granola. This hike is going to kick your ass.

Tip #1: Don't wear Speedos to jump into the lake. One, no one is hot enough to wear Speedos...not even Michael Phelps. And two, the laughter you hear is really at your expense.

Tip #2: This is a great hike for water pooches. There were many dogs swimming in the lake chasing after balls and many dogs hiking down the trail all wet...and yes, they looked less ridiculous than that man in a Speedo.

I sit by the stream munching on some chips, downing a soda, and scribbling in my journal. What I am really doing is waiting. I'm waiting on the sky to open up.

Early this morning the rising sun somehow found a way through or around or under the great billowing clouds of white and grey scattering toward the east - the last remnants of a stormy night. The rain provided a little shot in the arm to a stream depleted by summer heat. At the intersection of the bright sun beams and the clear water currents, I took some photographs.

Now the clouds have decided to close ranks; dousing the light and stealing away the shadows. It is cold and a bit dreary. I can see some patches of blue sky here and there trying to push the clouds apart. A sunny patch develops downstream so I gulp the last of my drink, stuff my gear back into my pack, and head out. It's gone when I get there. It is now up on the ridge a hundred feet above me, but I can't get there from here so I move on down the gully.

All morning long I chased the sun. Always it stayed tantalizingly frustratingly one step away. In the afternoon I crawled down the side of a long waterfall. The rocks were wet and slippery. My boots got filled with water. I was cold and wet and tired, but at the bottom I perked up because I had finally caught the sun.

The gully makes a wide slow turn to the left here and it opens wide to the sky. Sheer walls of grey rock rise tall and straight on both sides. The only trees are sparse stunted ones up at the very top that lean precariously out over the edge and peer down at me. The water, churning and frothing just seconds before, now spreads out into a thin smooth sheet of glass sliding quietly across the wide flat floor.

Everywhere is sunlight. It streams down from the open sky. It reflects off the surface of the water. I bounces back and forth between the walls. The heat seems intense after so long in the cold damp shadows, but I'm glad of it. I lean back against the wall and spread myself out to drink in all the energy that I can. I close my eyes and revel in the warm touch on my face. If I squeeze my eyes tight shut and tilt my head directly toward the sun, I can see the red glow of life illuminated by the intense light as it seeps through my lids.

It is quiet here. The waterfall is tucked around the corner. With my eyes still closed I listen. There is a soft irregular pitter-patter sound. Tiny fragments of stone pried loose by wind or water or sunlight sprinkle down. The chips litter the floor forming a crunchy edge around the water. Eventually some deluge will sweep them away and others will take their place. How many years? The slow carving of the gully goes on and on whether we stop to recognize it or not.

I stayed in that place a long time. Several times I tried to leave, but each time I would stop to photograph something and afterward I would go back to my spot on the wall for a while. Finally I decided I had better get a move on. I sloshed through the water toward the exit.

The walls narrowed, pushing the water back together. They urged it on faster and faster and then unceremoniously kicked it down the stairs of another waterfall. The sheet of glass was shattered into innumerable sparkling shards.

I paused at the edge. Behind me was light and warmth and quiet solitude beneath an open sky of blue and white. In front was a plunge down into a close, shadowy, noisy, splashing world under a thick green canopy. I filled my lungs with one final breath of warm air and followed the water down and down over the rocks - although with a little less wild abandon so as to avoid being shattered myself.

So what has this story got to do with aesthetics? Well, although this story ain't Shakespeare, I hope that it illustrates in a practical way some of the objections that folks have brought against Calrson's view that science must be our framework for appreciating nature "correctly".

There is so much more to our experience of nature than can be explained by science. Something ineffable in nature stirs our souls. As Emerson says in Nature; "...the simple perception of natural forms is a delight." A post by fencer discusses the "spirit of place" in appreciating nature.

As I have mentioned before, I have a background in environmental science and I have spent a lot of time in the woods. Maybe I know a little more about the workings of nature than the average Joe, but most of the time when I am walking around the woods, I'm using the artsy-fartsy side of my brain and not the analytical side. The simple joy of felling the sun on my face trumps weighty thoughts of geologic history or solar radiation calculations.

Thinking about the relative importance of scientific understanding versus the warm fuzzies has put me in mind of several other books that I have on my shelf - works by Muir, Emerson, and Thoreau. Perhaps I had better touch on those next time.

MDW

We just finished up one of the most amazing one-day hikes I’ve ever done. I’m talking about Besseggen, a mountain about 4 hours north of Oslo.

We packed on Thursday night and took off Friday morning—I rode my bike over to Petter and Eldri’s house to pick up their van (the very same van we took out for a week and a half 4 years ago on our first trip to Norway) and drove it back to our apartment. Susie was waiting there for me, and we loaded up the van with all of our hiking gear. Norway is rich in hiking amenities, and Besseggen is one of the most popular hikes in Norway, so it goes without saying that the area is dotted with tourist huts. Our plan was to take a ferry to Memurubu, spend the night at just such a hut, send our large pack back with the ferry and take just our day packs up over the peak. 40 Kroner well spent, as far as I’m concerned—not having to carry heavy packs up the ridge is worth much more than that, if you ask me.

As Susie piled into the van, she tested out our new thermos by turning it up over her mouth. Next thing I hear is a startled yelp and then some real whimpers of pain. I could tell right away that something was really wrong, but I had no idea what was going on. I just stared stupidly at her as she groped for our water bottle and tried to open it. When I finally realized what had happened—she’d scalded herself with the boiling water from the thermos—I pulled her pants away from her legs where she had spit the water out. It was a really scary moment, but we got cold water on it right away, and it turned out to be alright. She was just thinking that the tea in the thermos had cooled … she has some blisters around her mouth and three strange looking circular blisters on her leg where she spit out the water, but they’re healing well and shouldn’t scar. Thorbjorn says they were 2^nd degree burns, though I don’t really understand the classification system.

Susie had no interest in missing the ferry, and said she thought she would be fine. So we plastered her with wet paper towels and I bought her a cup of chocolate ice cream which she applied to her lip, and we headed out anyway. She’s kind of a badass when it comes right down to it. Not so smart, but gutsy.

With the drama over and the trauma starting to wear off we enjoyed our drive up to the mountains. It turns out that it was the same drive we’d taken when we started off on our trip 4 years ago, and there were moments of recollection and moments of weird deja vu. The Norwegian countryside is really nice, dotted with small farms and lush with green forests. Then you hit the tree line, and it’s all exposed rock, grasses, and stunted trees. The landscape in Jotunheimen has been deeply carved by glaciers, and the story of the ice is written on every rock. Sweeping, steep sided valleys cradle glacial lakes, which in turn reflect the snowcapped peaks that ring the area. This primordial landscape is called the playground of giants, and it’s one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been.

We got to the ferry in time and were soon on our way with a boatload of excited, geared-out Norwegians. Turns out Norwegians are bigger gear-heads than most, and we were surrounded by the latest in outdoor gear. Gaiters as far as the eye could see. These people know how to go for a hike, clearly.

The tourist hut at Memurubu was very cute, with a cozy common room, a dining hall, and two sitting areas with couches and fireplaces. The place really filled up that night, too. Besseggen is probably one of the most popular hikes in Norway, and this was the weekend crowd trying to squeeze the last bit out of summer. We slept in a bunkroom that slept 10, but only had to share it with two Norwegian girls (who were much more hardcore than we were, having hiked in with full packs and with plans to continue in the same vein for the rest of the weekend).

Besseggen itself was totally spectacular. Starting off with a steep climb, we wound our way over glacial ridges and through a steep rocky landscape dotted with gleaming lakes and noisy streams plunging down ever steepening slopes until they became waterfalls. There were little lakes at every level we were at except the very highest, and the bright sun brought out crisp reflections of the surrounding peaks in their waters. This hike is most famous, however, for a section called the “Knife’s Edge,” a narrow ridge about 15 feet across that you climb with a drop of 400 meters on one side and 700 on the other. Looking down on the left you see the dazzlingly blue waters of a glacial lake, and on the other side you see the deep green waters of the larger lake on which the ferries run. The narrow part took about 30 minutes to climb, and was pretty steep in and of itself. Though handholds were abundant and footing secure, it’s an assent which would surely be daunting to one who was afraid of heights. I even had a moment or two where I allowed myself to think about just how close I was to an amazing drop, and I’m usually quite good with heights. Susie, on the other hand, had no trouble whatsoever. Apparently, heights are one thing she’s definitely not afraid of.

In total, the hike took about 6 hours. We had a total blast, and it feels as though Norway is opening up for us. We’re both looking forward to many more trips like this one. We’re supposed to make sure to check out this Preacher’s Chair place … but for now, we’re totally satisfied. As I said, Besseggen is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been.

Check out our photos from the hike, and follow some of those links up above for even more pictures.

Mi papá y yo decidimos ir a una caminata ayer. El plan era que subimos el sendero de Devil's Courthouse en busca de Gentiana saponaria. Un flore purpúreo silvestre que florece entre septiembre y octubre. Si bien que nunca encontró la planta que estábamos buscando, el día era todavía interesante.

El alza fue unos 17 minutos subiendo la colina. El sendero se supone alberga a muchas plantas raras que crecen en una lugar de gran altitud; Sin embargo, no he podido apreciar la mayoría de ellos debido a mi desconocimiento. Una vez que llegamos hasta la cima, sin embargo, vimos una vista encantadora y espaciosa.

El resto del tiempo pasé explorando la zona en busca de Gentiana saponaria. No tenía suerte, pero aquí hay algunas cosas que encontré.
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Mi padre dejó su luces prendido y la batería del automóvil estaba muerto cuando regresamos. Le pregunté si él quería hacer algo y el dijo sólo que esperábamos que alguien parada. Yo no iba a esperar horas. Así que fui al lado de la carretera y recibió la atención de un coche lleno de personas mayores que nunca han utilizado antes sus cables. No importa porque mi padre y yo lo hice y fuimos en nuestro camino sin perdiendo más de treinta minutos.

The four-mile hike begins at the Oregon Zoo, which can be reached by car or MAX train, according to your desire and schedule. Normally I like to park at the Zoo, but today I opted to ride the train and leave my car at the Beaverton Town Square parking lot near the Beaverton Transit Center. It was a good decision because the Zoo lots were overflowing with visitors and they were running shuttle buses from the next exit on Highway 26.

To begin the hike, walk downhill from the Zoo toward 26 and cross the bridge over the highway. Turn left on the freeway on-ramp toward Portland and walk on the right side. The trailhead for the Marquam Trail is about halfway down the on-ramp on the right. The trail immediately begins an uphill climb toward Council Crest, the highest point in the city of Portland.

Follow the trail until it reaches a short staircase at SW Patton Road. Turn right on Patton and take a quick left at the stop sign at Talbot, heading uphill. Follow this road to the entrance to Council Crest Park, taking the paved path toward the top. This path is the rail bed for a former streetcar line that used to travel to the top of the park.

Enjoy the views of the city and several Cascade mountain peaks visible on clear days. (Sadly, I was so out of breath when I reached the top, I did not get any decent shots from Council Crest.)

The Marquam Trail continues down the other side of the park, beginning at a poorly marked trailhead next to the off-leash dog area and the view of Mt. Hood in the distance. Following the trail downhill leads to SW Fairmount and a nice walk among many unique homes built into the steep hillsides and canyon walls of the West Hills.

A left turn on SW Marquam Trail leads to Oregon Health & Science University and the Portland aerial tram, which takes riders from OHSU to the South Waterfront neighborhood.

Today was my first opportunity to ride the tram and it was a lot of fun. The views were pretty amazing.

There was a good deal of controversy surrounding the design, cost and construction of the tram before it was built. I quickly noticed that, despite city leaders promises to homeowners below the tram route that their privacy would be protected, any passenger over three feet tall could easily see every detail of the homes and yards in the tram’s path.

At the bottom of the tram, take the Portland Streetcar (aka the “trolley”) toward the city center past Portland State University and the Park Blocks.

Depart the streetcar at the Multnomah County Library and walk one block north to Morrison and catch the Max train back to the Zoo (or your other starting point).

Not a bad way to spend an afternoon.

Ratings (Scale of 5)
Hike Overall 3
Elevation 1
Sun/Shade 50/50
Revisit? Yes

Seasonal change is a fundamental part of New England life. People who grow up here either appreciate or resent it, and stay or leave accordingly. Personally, I love every month Vermont has to offer except February and March. April, despite mud season and the occasional 40-degree winter hangover, has always been wonderful, in the "hunger is the best sauce" sense. Summer and fall should speak for themselves. November isn't so nice, but... one forgives it because of its proximity to December, which can even be enjoyable because of Christmas. January is fine: you feel like it falls just along the appropriate forward motion of the seasons. Another whole month full of snow (hopefully) and cold? Bearable. So long as it doesn't last too much longer.

There's the rub. February and March come just when one's light-starved psyche is aching for any semblance of a sign that the season is ending. The cold is tolerable if you're used to it. The darkness... well, that's what gets to you. Despite all my love for New England, I've just never been able to shake the Groundhog Day cabin fever. Spring? Not likely. February is consistently the coldest month in the Northeast. March is worse. March is a worthless trollop. She'll tempt you with two, maybe three days of tee-shirt weather early on, and then *boom*. She dunks your head back in the toilet until early April. The feeling is not unlike blue balls. This creates a chain reaction, in that you view the beginning of winter with a much greater sense of dread. Three months of spending most of your time indoors coupled with 4:30 pm sunsets is tolerable when you can see the end of the tunnel. Five? That's something worth avoiding, or at least cutting down.

Spending your whole life in such a climate gives it a sense of the inevitable. In a sick, masochistic, Protestant sort of way, escaping the winter kind of feels like skipping out on child support. I imagine. Since I was three, I've never spent more than a week outside of cold climates. If memory serves, my entire winter relationship with green grass is limited to three days in Mississippi in my junior year in college, a week in California, and a week and a half in the Caribbean in seventh grade.

I move to South America early this November, just when the leaves will have all fallen from the trees and the snow hasn't quite set in yet. Happily, I'll miss those two months that almost make the rest not worth the effort of settling here. And yet, I have a feeling that I'll miss New England's explicitly delineated seasons. February and March have a way of making even the most battle-hardened Vermonter question why they live here. But they also make you appreciate the other seasons when they come around. I still firmly believe, despite my lack of personal experience in other climates, that sitting through the winter makes everything else that much sweeter.

Or maybe when I cross the equator, I'll wonder why the hell I didn't take off earlier. Only one way to find out.

Option #1

Waterman & Twin Peaks

Distance: ~ 12 miles
Elevation Gain: ~ 4300 ft
Estimated Time: ~ 7 hrs
Pace: 3 mph
Difficulty: 9/10
Terrain: Trail, Use Trail

Option #2

Twin Peaks

Distance: ~ 10 miles
Elevation Gain: ~ 3700 ft
Estimated Time: ~ 7 hrs
Difficulty: 8/10
Terrain: Trail, Use Trail
Hike Description

This is one of my favorite hikes. We get to hike on the border of the San Gabriel Wilderness, one of the most remote areas of the mountain range. The trails up to Waterman Mountain and Twin Peaks offer spectacular views and that fresh pine-needle smell.  Sadly no Squid 3 of Clubes tho!

This hike is also a challenge, because of multiple up-downs. The east Twin is the goal of the hike as it gives the best views. The trail up to it is also the steepest. After descending it, there will still be another 1200 ft to ascend. But it is worth it!  Sorry Bea it wont be a dating scene!

I'll probably need some new hiking boots after this one, hopefully big5 or REI has some on sale.   Good thing there is no gas tax on walking!

Here I am on the top. The girl that took my picture cut off my feet and put in lots of sky space above me. This is cropped as well as I could.

The white speck on the very left side of the image, next to my right elbow, is the 1980 Olympic arena in Lake Placid - remember Eric Heiden?

Speaking of Heiden, after winning 5 Gold Medals in Lake Placid, he went on to becoming a world-class bicyle racer, competing in the Tour de France in 1986. In 1989 he became a medical doctor, and today he practices as a renowned orthopedic surgeon. But I digress.

(click to enlarge) Here is a snapshot of Algonquin from the road below.

(click to enlarge) The trail was extremely steep, rocky and often wet. This was definitely class 4 hiking (need arms). The picture shows a section of trail looking down. It  does not look so scary in the picture, since the camera is pointed down, making it appear not as steep as it was.

I was constantly panicked about twisting my ankle or breaking a leg. I once sprained my ankle at home and I could barely make it from the bed to the bathroom. How was I going to get down a mountain on a trail over 3 miles long with such an injury? But with my bad knees, I had no choice but to pick my way down slowly, with countless other hikers, young French-Canadian teenagers to old guys like me, passing me.

Every time I am on a mountain and my knees hurt excruciatingly going down, I wonder why I don't pick up another sport, like paragliding or sailing, that is not as painful.

Interestingly, an elevation of 5000 feet is where most hikes in California or Colorado begin. In New York, a mountain of 5000 feet (there are only two) is a Mountain with a capital "M". This was one of the hardest hikes I have done in years, and as I write this, my legs, knees and feet still hurt.

On the way back I noticed the ski jump structures. These things are huge. Here is a quick picture from the road.

After much encouragement, I have indeed set out on my own! After many years of working with Girl & Boy Scouts, 4H clubs, Boys & Girls Clubs, YCC, adult leaders and a short, unpleasant stint at a local private camp, I have started taking some of my favorite people hiking in the woods, on the prairie and through the small creeks that run through this part of Illinois. Homeschoolers!!

I am still working with many those other groups and have added the joy of writing curriculum to highlight the subjects of my hikes. It mystifies me that so many people are either afraid to go outside or just do not make the time.

These hikes will serve the purpose of finding the time to go outside with the kids, plus, it’ll teach parents & families how smart they really are about Creation and our big backyard!

If you'd like any more information about these hikes or the curriculm I sell, email me at darivar@sbcglobal.net