Keeping Up

One Dimensional

After yet another fairly long climb on Sunday, and the necessary subsequent days of recuperation, I am beginning to feel flat. One dimensional. It seems that if I am not actually climbing, I am packing for a climb, drinking beers after a climb, uploading photos of a climb, or drinking beers while planning the next climb. I have a permanent helmet line from the glacial sun. Piles of granola bars in the kitchen. Chapstick in every pocket. A reusable grocery sac labeled 'Boots'. And an increasing alcohol tolerance.

Looking back over my calender from the past few weeks, it turns out there have been several activities having nothing to do with gaiters or ice axes. Or beer. Experiences I have had, and have not had the time, or the patience rather, to site and write about. 

A list of those things which have been on my mind and not yet mentioned:

Went to see, and was inspired by, SIFF's A Sea Change.

Although I showed up too late to the event and was turned away, watched Paul Farmer's talk at UW live on the internet.

Read Let Me Stand Alone, which is one of the most amazing books I have read in a long time.

Survived, and kind of enjoyed, the new Transformers movie.

Was impressed by the Andrew Wyeth exhibit at SAM. So impressed.

Took Miss Else on a hike to Lake Serene.

Attended an interesting lecture by Roger Thurow and Scott Kilman, promoting their new book Enough.

Now, as a long weekend approaches, I am looking forward to time away from the mountains. A weekend more multifaceted than my typical Boeapls inspired Saturday/Sunday. A weekend in Seattle. With sunshine. And my sewing machine. Time to finish The Year of Magical Thinking and to begin That Mad Ache. A weekend with leisure to page through magazines. And energy enough to bike, with unsore muscles, to Golden Gardens. A weekend in flip flops. Yes, an entire weekend in flip flops. No Superfeet required.

Bamboo Cycles

I stole this link from L's gchat status:

An article from the BBC about Zambikes, an organization that builds bicycle frames from bamboo in Zambia.

Good find, L.

The Commons

Just discovered Flickr's The Commons. And it now ranks as my favorite use of the internet community. For example, the notes for this photo read:

Description: The Flickr community is invited to assist in the identification of Ms. Deming.

Creator/Photographer: Unidentified photographer

Medium: Black and white photographic print

How great.

Not Five

I have been considering, for weeks, what I would write today. Perhaps I should just avoid documentation altogether.

But, it feels important to note that today J and I would have celebrated our five year anniversary. But also, that tomorrow marks one year from the day I left for Tanzania. And everything changed. And here I become stuck. Should I go into how my departure for Tanzania has led to the fact that we have no Five year anniversary? Or maybe describe the year that would have been our Fifth year of marriage, but instead saw its end?

Or just leave things unsaid. Simply to say I remember our wedding, and our years, fondly. With so much love, still. And that the past twelve months have been the most difficult and emotional months of my life thus far.

I wonder how long I will count my Junes in anniversaries that will not exist. Always, maybe. June 26 will always be the day J and I were married.

Crush

So, last night I had a dream about Greg Laswell, who is my current crush. Not a rated R dream, but just a meet a cute musician boy dream.

The inspriation was clearly Sunday night's show at The Tractor. Which was excellent.

Tired despite the relatively short climbing day, I doubted my advance ticket purchase. I had already see him play twice before and I really just wanted a hot bath and flannel PJs. But, having made the decision weeks ago and having committed to meeting C there, I settled for a hot shower and jeans and headed to Ballard.

Easy-peasy parking and into The Tractor where Pete and J was in the middle of their first song. The first of many great songs. Months ago I had written the band name down as one to check out and I took note when I saw they were the opening act for Greg Laswell. But, I had forgotten. And was more than pleasantly surprised. I am listening to them on my iPod right now. Great.

But not as cute as Greg. Who, it turns out, plays with a cute band sometimes, too.

I enjoy his shows for several reasons. Because I know all of the songs. Because I like all of the songs. Because sometimes he plays a new song. Because it seems like he really wants to be playing music for me (okay, everyone, but just like all of the girls in the audience, I like to think, me). And because he tells stories.

And Sunday was no exception. The sound was great. And it was fun to see a whole band playing with him. He sang Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. And told a story about pooping his pants. Before the encore, the band traded outfits amongst themselves. All in all, a fantastic show.

Though, I am pretty sure in my dream I let him know that he did not play my favorite song at the concert. For which he was apologetic.

Weather

Yesterday's climb up Unicorn Peak was a lesson in weather change.

We began with clouds.

Which eventually turned into a white out.

At the summit, we had wind.

And sun breaks.

 

As we descended, snow. Which turned to rain.

 

But, then it cleared.

And on the drive home, hail. Then downpour of rain. And sunshine upon return into Seattle.

Photos here. MP's photos here. And AS's photos here.

The Mighty Spartans

When E+M asked me if I wanted to play on their soccer team for the summer, I did not really think about it. Of course!

Although E+M are out of town, our first game was Thursday. I showed up, with the information that the team would be wearing blue and is named The Spartans.

(Side note, you would think, that after years and years of my school colors being blue, that I would have an infinite supply of blue soccer apparel, but apparently, in the eight years of no soccer, my supply has dwindled and I was left with my light blue Annapurna t-shirt. No shinguards. No socks. How?)

I semi-awkwardly inquired the name of the team wearing blue and it was, in fact, The Spartans. I realized, right then, that I have learned to enjoy groups of unknown people. As the team pulled up socks and laced shoes, I was feeling a bit nervous. Nervous is actually an understatement. All day at work I had been nervous. By this point, I was mildly terrified that I would step onto the field and be sorely out of place. A league below the rest of the team. Talk was of games they had played with other teams during the week and of the Seattle Sounders loss the previous night. I sat quietly, observing, having not played a single game of soccer in five years and having only heard second hand of the MLS loss.

But. As soon as we lined up on the field, I safely in right full-back position, I felt like I might be able to play. And the game flew by quickly. I was certainly glad to be in shape, so that the running for an hour and half part of the game was not a problem. My first touches were quite often completely off and my passes a bit light. But, it felt so good to play. To yell. Top of the Box. You Have Support. Man On. Time, You Have Time. Switch Fields. All so familiar. And I realized that I had missed it. I missed soccer.

And now, as I sit here late the evening of Father's Day, I am so glad that my father not only encouraged me to play, but put time into coaching and cheering. And that I have been able to see him continue to play, which only encourages me further. Encourages me to continue to play.

I really do love it. 

Go Irish. Go Norse. Go Spartans.

Capitol Hill

I finally am feeling like my (not so) new apartment is a bit like home. Certainly, it helped having people over last week. But also, having pictures on my wall and leaving my bed unmade once in a while has also made a big difference.

I am still adjusting to life on Capitol Hill, which seems to suit me a bit less than Ballard. I certainly appreciate being able to walk to work. And have a hard time imagining readjusting my life back to bus schedules. I love being close to A. And downtown. And new friends. But, I miss my places. I miss Old Town. Malena's. And Kiss Cafe. I miss the skateboard park. And the beach. Even JoAnn Fabrics. But mostly, just the general level of comfort the neighborhood held for me. And the abundance of parking.

But. Sunday after having arrived home from San Francisco feeling touristy, I spent a bit of time exploring the Hill. After G helped me to re-tape my handlebars (red!), we headed out to find a bit of lunch and ended up spending the afternoon walking nowhere in particular. Completely satisfied by the sights of Capitol Hill.

Lunch was fabulous, at Oddfellows Cafe, which neither of us had ever noticed before and seems to hold Da Vinci Code like secrets. G grabbed ice cream at Molly Moon's and we walked to catch the last bits of the Capitol Hill Farmer's Market. We looped, seemingly in circles, for quite some time. Talking, laughing, and people-watching. (Oh, the people watching.) Perhaps one of my most favorite days spent in Seattle in some time.

Walking. Always the walking.

Feeling more and more at home with each step.

Groceries, Kind Of

I do not have a grocery store particularly near my apartment. However, Whole Foods happens to be on my way home from work. I find this to be less than convenient, due to my inability to actually buy real Groceries at Whole Foods. I stopped on my way home tonight and was more amused than usual by my completely unnecessary purchases.

Mango Gelato (to which I am completely addicted, despite not being an Ice Cream Person)
Coffee (okay, necessity)
Milk (another necessity)
The first of the Skagit Valley strawberries (they smelled so delicious walking near them in the store)
Caldera IPA (in cans!)
Edemame (which, when I opened the freezer at home, I realized I already have)
A Macrina baguette (I prefer Tall Grass Bakery, but they were already gone)
And, Whole Foods Roasted Garlic Dip (for which there are no words, okay one: delicious)

There must be dinner in there somewhere, right?

I Heart SF

I have been sitting here, trying to write something. But, realizing that if I continue to attempt, it may never happen. So instead. A list, written on the airplane to help me remember. Photos are here.

Thursday.
Picked up at 5a.
Airport + slept the whole flight.
BART into Civic Center on Market.
Walk up to hotel on Hyde + Sutter.
Check in.
Nap.
Walk.
    Nob Hill.
    Chinatown.
    Coit Tower + Filbert Steps.
    North Beach.
    Pier 39. Cheesy.
    Fisherman's Wharf. Cheesy. Arcade.
    Russian Hill + Lombard Street.
Walk back up and over Hyde Street.
Back to hotel. Shower.
Nook Cafe for dinner.
Back to hotel + bed.

Friday.
Breakfast (french toast!) and coffee across from hotel at Thad's Cafe.
Walk back toward Fisherman's Wharf to Blazing Saddles bike rental shop.
Bike across Golden Gate Bridge to Sausalito .
On to Tiburon.
Lunch at Cafe.
Ferry back to San Francisco. Pier 41.
Tattoo on Columbus in North Beach neighborhood.
Beer at Rogue Brewery.
Random travelers.
Phone died.
Back to hotel. In cab.

Saturday.
Slept in.
Check out of hotel, but leave bag.
Walk down to Market.
Everything closed until noon.
Walk up to Haight Street.
Everything closed until noon.
Eat at incredibly cute cafe and drink coffee.
Walk around and look at houses.
Visit Doe.
Cute park.
Walk back to Market.
Visit Rare Device.
Find bookstore + buy Let Me Stand Alone.
Back to hotel for bag.
To BART and airport.
Read.
Small plane to Salt Lake City + Read.
Layover + Read.
First class upgrade from Salt Lake City + Read + Flight of the Concords.
Traffic on I-5 into Seattle.

The short visit was excellent. I enjoyed being a tourist the first two days and then on Saturday, pretending I lived in a perfect row house, being green, walking my dog without a leash and spending time in cute cafes.

I certainly think there is something to be said for travelling alone. I felt completely relaxed the entire time. Knowing that I could do whatever I wanted to do, whenever I wanted to do it. I felt okay looking silly with my camera around my neck the whole time, stopping to pause as I chose. I ate when I was hungry. Sat and drank coffee when I felt like sitting. And I loved the walking. Everywhere. 

All in all, I am quite smitten with the city.

Graduation Night

Cutting the official Graduation Ceremony short (okay, after barely attending the official Graduation Ceremony) Team Blackout descended upon Capitol Hill for some celebrating. Which, in true Blackout form, included Rainier beer and champagne. I still find it pretty amazing that a group of random people can be thrown together and have so much fun. Following the tradition of cheesy graduation themes, I am sad the class is ending and can only hope we continue to climb, play, and drink together. Class of 2009. Cheers.

Photos from the entire course are here.

Postcards

After seventh grade, good friend ES's family moved from Minnesota to Seattle. We kept in touch for a while, the old fashioned way. Letters. And postcards. ES's postcards were the best, with a mountain seemingly floating in the sky. A mountain whose name I knew only from the caption on the back. Mount Rainier.

In seventh grade, how could I have even grasped the idea of standing atop a mountain floating in the clouds?

But, last weekend I did. Stand on top of Mount Rainier.

The whole experience is still pretty surreal in my head. I suppose because there was almost no planning, and it happened so quickly. The prior weekend, on the way home from our Graduation Climb on Little T (the mountain most near Mount Rainier and, though dwarfed by its neighbor, Washington's third highest peak), MP persisted until SO'M and I agreed to fill a rope team to climb Mount Rainier the next weekend. Having already climbed the mountain three times, SO'M agreed, under the condition we attempt to do so in a single day. Most people, with some amount of common sense, do the climb in two (or three, even four) days. But, he wanted a challenge. And we all had committed to do Trail Maintenance on Sunday, leaving us only Friday night and Saturday available.

Friday morning, after waking at six am in order to finish final preparations for my last lecture at SU, I loaded up not only my school and work supplies, but a pack, ice axe, and helmet. And headed out the door. A few curious looks walking down Denny, but a safe arrival at the office.

MP and SO'M picked me up from work.

Time 2:45pm.
Elevation nearly 0 feet.
Awake 9 hours.

An uneventful drive down and food in Enumclaw. Italian.

We registered at the ranger station upon entering the National Park. Encouraging and curious, the kind rangers allowed MP and I to use the 'Staff Only' flushing toilet, for which we were very grateful!

We organized our packs, laced our boots, cinched our gaters, and headed out from the Glacier Basin trailhead, in the White River Campground.

Time 6:30pm.
Elevation 4400 feet.
Awake 12.5 hours.

The first three miles gave us only sixteen hundred feet of elevation gain. Maintained dirt trail a ways, then snow.

Time 8:00pm.
Elevation 6000 feet.
Awake 14 hours.

With dusk upon us, we approached the Inter Glacier. Much of which was free from crevasses, so we remained unroped. We took turns kicking steps, drinking water, and knowing a long night was ahead of us as the sun set. I felt good. Learned the technique of Breath Steps. And also the difference between sharing task of kicking steps with two other people rather than eleven!

Our destination was Camp Schurman. Where most (sane) people camp before their summit attempts. Upon crossing from the Inter Glacier to the Emmons Glacier, we stopped to put on warm layers and to rope up. I must admit, changing into base layers mid-mountain, with wind blowing, standing in only underwear, is quite unpleasant! Bone-chilling, actually. Frozen hands. And feet. And everything.

We reached Camp Schurman, exactly on schedule. In the dead of night, we russelled around camp, surely disturbing all around us attempting to get some amount of sleep. We found a small spot, slightly (only slightly, mind you) blocked from the wind and tried to rest. SO'M was miraculously able to sleep, while MP and I shivered and waited for time to pass. Eventually, we began to melt snow in order to have enough water for the remainder of our climb.

Time Midnight.
Elevation 9800 feet.
Awake 18 hours.

After two hours rest, a break a bit long, given our goal and chilly body temperatures, we set out in the dark toward the summit.

 

The first two hours, were certainly the most difficult of the entire climb for me. Dark. Seeing only footstepts and a rope head of me. Alone with my own head. The path was icy and took a lot of concentration. I was over tired (and, it turns out, PMS-ing). In tears bit, frustrated at the fact that I was awake, mid-glacier, without the person I had imagined being there with.

But, eventually, the sun began to rise. And, accordingly, my spirits. The fact that I was awake, mid-glacier, without the person I had imagined being there with made me feel stronger. And motivated.

The next several hours were slow. We stopped to break frequently. Asking SO'M the altitude. Which was never as high as it seemed it should be. Eventually, higher than Little T, which was somewhat satisfying. But, still three thousand feet to go. Sounding like not so much, but So Much. So Far.

 

We continued up. Always up. Arriba. We stopped to break at 13100 feet. After which, everything seemed harder. My body adapted quite well to the altitude, but from that point on my lungs begged for air and my heart seemed unable to keep up. And I just wanted to be done. Tired, my focus was purely on the steps in front of me. MP in the lead, following a rope team of four boys shortly ahead of us. At one point, I looked up, and saw only MP's backpack. Knowing she was tired, exhausted and nauseous by the lack of oxygen, my first thought was MP took a break and laid back. Until, SO'M asked, Where's Monica? Did She Fall In A Crevasse? Arrest! Completely unaware, I immediately arrested, though took no weight on the rope. MP, who had fallen to her shoulders, nervously checked to make sure we were taking care of her.

From this point, we were all just ready to get to the top and have it all over with. 250 feet from the top, without the summit in view, we were all about ready to turn around. MP was worn of leading when she had no idea where to go. We sat at the bottom of a rock field and decided to take off our crampons (ah, relief!) and rope and head up to the ridge. We reached the crater. But still could not see the summit.

Feeling like this had to be close enough. Exhausted. MP and I were ready to turn around. Until SO'M announced that we could take our packs off and walk a few hundred feet to the summit. Really? The feeling of relief is hard to explain.

Time 11:30am.
Elevation 14410.
Awake 29.5 hours.

The exhilaration of reaching the summit was short lived. Given the ten thousand foot decent ahead of us. The snow was still hard, so we replaced our crampons before heading down. Often going down is as difficult as going up, mentally. Though less stress on the lungs, the knees and ankles, take a large amount of impact. Concentrating on where the next step will be can take a lot out of you. The nearly five thousand feet decent into Camp Schurman seemed to go on and on. I began in the front of the rope, but was nervous about the wind, steep slope, and crevasses, so SO'M lead a bit of the way. Until I felt comfortable again. It was nice to have the daylight, to see the amazing glacial structures around us. We had missed much during the dark approach.

When we finally reached Camp Schurman, we were greeted by smiles and congratulations from fellow climbers and the NP rangers. And a toilet. Though I mostly just wanted to get down off the mountain, the break proved invigorating. I was glad for a bit of time without a pack and new faces.

With an empty bladder and sunlight, we headed down through the last bits of the Emmons Glacier. We unroped as we crossed the ridge into the Inter Glacier and were unbelievably excited by the prospect of glissading. Always, I am amazed at how glissading lifts one's spirits! MP, the fasted glissader of them all, found an amazing chute to follow and we flew down thousands of feet while approaching the Glacier Basin Campground. We even talked SO'M into trying a plastic bag we found on the chute in order to convince him glissading can be fun. Not such a Fun-Hater after all.

We reached the Glacier Basin trail and moaned as the remainder of the hike out caused severe pain to our feet. Despite changing into dry socks. The last three miles dragged on and on. As they always do. Wanting nothing more than to take off my boots, walking on a path can be the most horrible thing ever.

We reached the car, the trailhead, twenty-five hours after leaving energetic and determined. Exhausted and successful.

Time 7:30pm.
Altitude 4400 feet.
Awake 37.5 hours.

The feeling of pulling off my boots and wet socks will never compare to anything. Flip flops and sweatpants were amazing. So glad to be finished and to have accomplished something of which SO'M had given us a fifty/fifty chance, we were all relieved and excited. Chatty. Amazed, actually.

We headed back toward Enumclaw for dinner. At the Rainier Pub. And Rainier Beers.

Still friends. Which is perhaps the most amazing part. So glad that we could spend such an intense amount of time together and remain friends. Better friends, even.

Fortunately. Since we would drive back to Seattle.

Time 11:30pm.
Altitude nearly 0 feet.
Awake 41.5 hours.

Sleep six hours. And wake to spend another day together doing trail maintenance. Which involved a two hour drive, a three mile hike with two thousand feet of elevation, six hours of manual labor, and back home.

In total, I was awake for 42 hours straight. In a period of 68 hours, I slept six. I climbed up and down ten thousand feet in 25 hours. Then, up and down two thousand feet the next day.

Whew. A long and exhausting weekend. I have been asked how it was. Was it Fun? No. It certainly was not Fun. But, it was satisfying. Challenging. And Great. The company was Incredible. And I am so proud of myself. Of all of us. The mental and physical challenge of it was perhaps more than I have ever faced. Talking myself into taking a single step took so much motivation. But, I was able to motivate myself, and that is what makes me proud.

Monday, at Bartell Drugs, running errands, I bought a postcard. With Mount Rainier floating in the air. To send to GM+GP. I think all I will write on the back is: I Stood Up Here. Love, B.

Tuition and a Plan

The last check from the sale of the condo came in the mail last week. And I have already put into use. Given the steep drop in responsibility with the sale, I have set up a Plan. A One Year Plan. Intending to, in a year, following the completion of teaching Spring Semester, head abroad for a while. So. In preparation, taking an eight week TESOL certification course through Seattle Central CC. Though perhaps unnecessary, I am hoping the course will keep me focused and help me to feel like I am following a Plan. Prevent distraction and encourage fiscal responsibility.

Certainly wondering if I am a bit crazy to take on another commitment so shortly after the completion of both climbing class and teaching. But, I have a bit of confidence that after two weeks lacking the structure to which I have become accustomed I will either fall into a routine of completely contended laziness or struggle with incurable boredom.

I admitedly have not thought this all the way through. Have not done all of the research. Or considered all options. But, needing something. A step. So. Here we go. Putting the One Year Plan into action.

Graduation Summit

Our final climb for Boeapls Basic Climbing Class was a successful summit of Little Tahoma Peak.

More photos here.