bpope’s blog

This fall, I made my way to Leominster a few times to climb at Crow Hill.  Bottom line, I think it’s a great climbing area, and I’m definitely excited to do even more climbing there.

Sun Gypsy (5.6) aka Triple Overhangs

The good: There’s lots of good to be found at Crow Hill.  It’s close to Boston, and easy to get to. There are climbs for all ability levels, offering toprope access for nearly every route.
The bad: If you want to set a top rope, bring lots and lots of webbing (20 ft or longer slings).  Also, the area can remain damp after rains.
The ugly: If you’re a sport climber, you better head elsewhere, there’s only an occasional bolt on these walls.
The awesome: Perfect for beginning trad leaders.  End Crags and Practice Wall have

For a complete guide, I found that Boston Rocks has a comprehensive evaluation and hearty recommendation, and I definitely agree.  I’m looking forward to getting back, pushing my leading abilities, and trying Jane (5.11) again.  Once upon a time, Jane was one of the hardest pitches anywhere in the country, so it’s got a great history.  I was able to work each individual move on toprope, so it would be fun to link them together.  Leading it is a while in the future, yet…

One of the things I do in my “free” time is to help out Troop 205 in Newton as an Assistant Scoutmaster.  I’ve been involved in the troop for over 10 years, first as a Scout and now as a leader.  A few years before I got involved, it was a troop tradition to use camp in/near the cabin at the Nobscot Scout Reservation (or here on Google maps).  During winter and rainy trips, it was a great fallback just in case anyone got too wet or cold, and a nice place during the summer for group gatherings.

Since I’ve been involved in the troop, though, the cabin hasn’t been in serviceable condition.  For years when my father was Scoutmaster, he worked to lay the foundation for a cabin renovation.  Unfortunately, when he died, work had not yet been started.  Steve Burnham, then an Assistant Scoutmaster and now Scoutmaster, began work about a year and a half ago, in memory of my father.  Last fall, I worked with Steve (and many others) to jack up the whole cabin, pour a new foundation, and lay it back down.  Having successfully finished that, the next big hurdle was replacing the rotten columns on the porch.  A few weeks back, we got over that hurdle! It may not look like much, but it involved jacking up the whole front of the cabin a few times, checking that the overhang was level, cutting the beams to length, and installing them securely.

the cabin with temporary 2×8s (before) and permanent 8×8s (after)

We’ve still got to finish laying the porch flooring, framing the interior, and repairing the roof, but we’re now closer to a serviceable cabin than we have been in a long while.  Lots of work to do, but it should be pretty fun, and I know Dad would want it done.

I want to preface the following commentary by saying that I’m not an expert of any kind in technology, the internet, new media, or communication. These are just some observations and opinions…I could easily be wrong. Also, I highly respect the individuals that I have worked with over the past few years and nothing said here is meant as a direct criticism, more a general trend.

That being said, over the past few years, I’ve had the opportunity to sit on the National Executive Board of two large, international organizations: the Boy Scouts of America and the Sigma Chi Fraternity. In essence, these boards governed the direction that their respective organization would take, and the strategies necessary to get there. Most of the detailed work was conducted by sub-committees in which I participated. In all cases, the membership was primarily older and business oriented, with a healthy smattering of lawyers. Also in both cases, these organizations were struggling to keep up with developing media and modes of communication, specifically reaching their membership in these new ways.

My basic observation: Just because you are using a new form of media, it doesn’t mean that using that medium is a good idea.

Really, all of these boil down to older men succumbing to technology buzz that they see as “cool” and “youthful.” In one particular meeting, the prevailing direction of the conversation was “Well, the pamphlets we distributed haven’t shown success. Let’s put out DVDs instead; that will appeal to our youth membership.” Very little thought/discussion went in to the specific type of content that was delivered. In some cases, the exact same images and text were just transcribed to another medium. As I see it, that just adds cost and an additional step between the user and the information. That seems silly to me. The media was not used for the reason that it was so compelling! Content rich in video and interaction were often ignored. (For a while, the flash drive craze was great…free flash drives! Of course, now I have too many small capacity drives.)

The same goes for websites, blogs, social networks…anything really since it all boils down to good design and communication.

My suggestions, which I think should be fairly obvious but apparently aren’t, and are often ignored:
- Content needs to be matched with the medium it is broadcast in, which in turn needs to be chosen based on the audience targeted.
- If you are trying to make information available on a website, that information needs to be both (1) easily accessible via a path that is both obvious and as brief as possible and (2) very easily searchable from the home page. Remember that the user doesn’t know what you (the author) know. Specifically, if the user doesn’t know the information is there, it is essentially useless. If you want to get certain information across, the design needs to steer the user towards it. Just putting it on the website doesn’t mean that people will read it.
- If you are going to start a social network, for goodness sake make sure it is at least as good as what’s out there and, even better, adds value. Nobody needs yet another profile to maintain, especially if it’s a crappy interface.

Overall, online communication needs to accommodate a wide range of users, from neophytes to experts, from people who know what information they’re looking for to casual browsers. The web itself isn’t cool, what you can do with it is. Getting the message across is all about design and content, and it’s all in the details, so pay attention to them!

My good buddy Matty B had a dream.  His dream had nothing to do with civil rights or equality, though I’m sure he values those things very highly.  His dream was to drive to the base of a little-visited mountain range in Nevada, get out of the car, and hike to the top.  How did he get this brilliant and inspired idea? He was staring out a plane window on a flight home from Stanford, saw the snow capped peaks and became captivated him.  How long ago was that?  4 years.  This summer, we made that dream become reality.

On Friday afternoon, Matty B picked me up and we started driving east.  We picked up Nancy at a BART station and the crew was complete.  We crashed the night in a hotel in Fallon, NV and got to the trail by 9 the following morning. Google maps was really useful here, showing which dirt road would take us to the valley of our choosing (the Florence Canyon).

Google earth image of our route. Day 1 in green, Day 2 in red

USGS topo of our route. Day 1 in red, Day 2 in green.

Our hike started on a dirt road, then we peeled off and followed a creek for a little ways before heading up to the ridgeline.  After we gained the ridge, we ate some lunch before continuing on our way.  Hiking cross-country yielded some absolutely amazing views and interesting, varied terrain.  Unfortunately, the only “wildlife” we saw on our first day were some cows out to pasture, but there were some pretty interesting plants like flowering cacti.

Being in the wilderness, Matty B got all caveman on us.

The coolest part of the first day was the summit ridge.  From the direction we approached, we were treated to a knife edge ridge; sharp rocks and fun scrambling (if you wanted to, it would be easy to avoid this ridge, but where’s the fun in that?).  Unfortunately the summit wasn’t deserted.  Within the past couple of years (judging by images from SummitPost) some kind of cell tower or radio repeater powered by a large set of solar panels/batteries had been placed there.

Um, yeah...we conquered the mountain.

The next day, we headed down another ridge in search of a new adventure.  Before setting out, though, we played a little bit of catch with the frisbee we had brought (we are all frisbee players, so it kinda makes sense).  (Unfortunately, all my pictures after that point got deleted, though I’m not exactly sure how.)  The way down was substantially more fun than the way up, and not only because we didn’t have to walk uphill.  As we crested one ridge, Matty B and I caught sight of a buck as it darted down the mountainside.  The next ridge we crossed involved some interesting traversing around a rocky summit before heading steeply downhill through a talus field.  Good stuff!

Stellar summit ridge.

Eventually we got back to road, and Nancy and I were ready to head straight to the car. Matty B, however, wasn’t done adventuring.  He was curious what was around the bend in the road.  Turns out, Matty B’s adventure sense was right on: it was an abandoned mine (that I later noticed on the USGS map).  It looked not too old, and reasonably stable so we strapped on our headlamps and headed in.  Smart move, I know.  We ventured down the tunnel a good 60 yards until it took a right turn.  From there on, it was pitch black and Nancy and I headed forward another 50-60 yards or so.  There, the floor dropped away sharply and a huge seam opened up in the rock.  At that point, we figured it would be a good idea to turn around.

Having finally fulfilled our adventure quota, and Matty B’s dream, we headed back to San Francisco happy.  That is, until we saw Sand Mountain.  Having driven most of the way up in the dark, we missed the scenery, and this thing was awesome.  The high fees and impending rain kept us from climbing it, but seriously, how many sand dunes (1) are that huge and (2) can sing?

In any case, I’m looking forward to the next crazy idea that Matty B comes up with.  If it’s anything like the first, it’ll be fun.

As always, check out the galleries or full flickr set for more/different pictures.

Further information: SummitPost has a page on how to get there.

Background reading: YDS grading (see 3rd and 4th class)
For future climbers: check out the galleries or flickr set for images of maps and pictures with our route drawn in.

After successfully making it up both Mt. Whitney and Mt. Shasta, I turned my sights towards another of California’s 14ers. I bought Porcella and Burns’ “Climbing California’s Fourteeners” and pored over it, trying to identify a mountain and route that would be both doable and exciting. Immediately Mt. Williamson and Mt. Tyndall looked really fun, but they are closed for most of the year (big horn sheep). The next thing that caught my eye was Thunderbolt Peak, specifically its 5.8+ summit block. A close second was Middle Pal, which looked like a great hike over varied terrain, with awesome alpine lakes along the way. I couldn’t decide, but the Inyo National Forest quota system decided for me…no reservable permits for Thunderbolt, but plenty of space on the way to Middle Pal.

Sweet. All that was left was actually figuring out where to camp and which trail to hike, right? After picking up our wilderness permit via “nightbox” service at the White Mountain Ranger Station, Kurt and I stayed at Sage Flat Campground, just west of Big Pine, on Friday night, rolling in at about 1:30am. We slept in until about 9 before driving just a little further up the road to the parking lot labeled “Trailhead Parking.” It occurred to me then that I really didn’t know much about the trail we were supposed to take, except that it was called the South fork of Big Pine Creek. I also knew we were taking the “East Face” route detailed by Porcella and Burns. Critical missing piece of information: where did it all start?

Just past the latrine at the parking lot, though, was this helpful sign. TRAIL it proclaimed. Well, that had to be right, we figured. So we locked up the trusty PT Cruiser and set off optimistically into the already hot morning. I knew somewhere in the back of my head that we were looking for a sign that pointed out the split between the North Fork and South Fork trail. So, pretty soon, Kurt and I were excited to find the sign for the North Fork. But where was the South Fork to be found? It seemed we weren’t even on the map yet, so it turned out to be pretty useless. We decided to follow the creek because the other option turned into a road. After another 20 minutes, we figured the trail we were on was just a fishermen’s use trail. So, we about faced, and decided to try our luck along the road, which turned out to head exactly where we wanted to. Another 10 minutes brought us to the sign we were looking for, and we were finally off in the right direction. Great start to the trip: wandering unsure of our direction for an hour. And we were supposed to eventually go cross-country? Uh-oh…

Google Earth image of our route. Day 1 in green, Day 2 in red

Lesson for future hikers: if you can, just start from the Glacier Lodge, it makes everything super easy. Drop your packs there, bring the car back to “Trailhead Parking,” and walk back along the road. If you decide to start on the trail from the Trailhead Parking lot you’re already on the North Fork trail. You’ll want to hang a left when you see a campsite/picnic area on your left about 15-20 minutes after leaving the parking lot. Cross the bridge just past the picnic area and follow the trail as it angles left off of the road. This will eventually bring you to where the North and South Fork trails diverge. There’ll be a sign there that looks something like this:

The split of the North Fork and South Fork trails.

The hiking was nice and easy for the first hour or two on the South Fork. We stopped at the wilderness boundary for lunch, as our stomachs were rumbling and it was just before the uphill began ernest. There, we were passed some by trailhead-bound backpackers who had originally set their sights on Mt Sill but turned around. “It’s a f***ing long hike!” they exclaimed, obviously happy to be heading downhill. Fortunately, our approach was a bit shorter than theirs, and we were optimistic as we got back to hiking. The trail was very clear and straightforward, with the only annoyance being the seeming cloud of mosquitoes that descended upon as as we moved past Willow Lake — definitely put on bug spray if the area is at all wet!

Despite being a bit bothered by the altitude, Kurt kept up fine and pretty soon we were at Brainerd Lake. I saw a few cairns, and so we followed these for a bit until they petered out. Instead, we headed up the boulder field and found ourselves at Finger Lake not too long afterwards. For those seeking an easier time, or if you don’t like boulders, there is a reasonably well-used trail all the way from Brainerd Lake to Finger Lake. Personally, I thought the boulders were fun, and good warm-up for the following day. Kurt might disagree with me. Tip: there is a use trail, lightly marked by cairns, which we found on the way down. If you can find this your way will be a little bit easier and minimize the distribution of impact.

Kurt coming up the boulder field, with Willow Lake in the background.

We made camp at the north end of Finger Lake, where there are a few great camping areas. There, we ran into Brian, who also had his sights set on Middle Pal. He was planning on going up the “Northeast Face” route detailed in Secor’s guide, and also helpfully illustrated by several trip reports on SummitPost. The route description sounded really similar to ours, except for one critical difference: the start. Porcella and Burns instructs you to go to the far right (west) of the Middle Palisade Glacier. This is wrong. Begin by going up the morraine in the center of the glacier and you’ll be fine. Since Brian was alone, and seemed to know what he was doing, the three of us decided to team up for the trip to the summit.

While we planned on getting up at 6 to make a solid attempt at the summit, Kurt and I both knew that if we wanted to make it back home at a reasonable hour, we didn’t have much of a shot at the summit. No matter, we figured if nothing else, we’d make it to the glacier and then turn around; no reason to waste a beautiful day of hiking in the Sierra. We started up the slabs across the lake (to the west) in the early morning light. We definitely didn’t take the easiest route up (probably 4th class), but it was fairly direct and it managed to let us gain a substantial amount of time on the pair that had left camp about half an hour ahead of us. We saw them take a turn to the right and head for the western-most side of the Middle Pal Glacier (where a large wall separates it from the Norman Clyde Glacier). The day before, we had spoken with them and they had planned on doing the same route we were headed for. Either they were headed for something else, or they messed up their route-finding. In any case, after we had headed in the right direction, we saw them begin their descent.

We finally were ready to turn onto snow (the eastern portion of the Middle Palisade Glacier) at about 10:00. Kurt thought we should turn around.  Brian (who turned out to be a great trip-partner) was psyched about continuing, and I wanted to go, too.  I asked for another 30 minutes. “I only want to touch the start,” I said, knowing full-well what happens if you give a mouse a cookie. Soon we found ourselves at the base of an unlikely set of ledges. “What if we turn around at 11:30 instead?” I proposed. Kurt was pretty excited to try to reach the summit by now, too (as I had hoped) so before he could change his mind I launched up the 4th class ledge and was around the corner, looking up Secor’s chute. From here on it was sustained, exposed 3rd class climbing. Some of the rock was rotten, and much of it was loose, but careful hand and foot placements meant that I wasn’t raining rocks down upon my followers. I was in heaven. Even when it got windy near the top, I felt great: exhilarated but also completely in control of my head. If only I could feel this way every time I climbed!

This is sorta what it looked like going up.

We topped out just before our “final turnaround” time of 11:30. The ridge was absolutely incredible. Nothing in front or behind you, except for thousands of feet of air. A knife-edge ridge stretching to left and right. Sun shining. Slight breeze blowing. Just awesome. It is in moments like that in which every negative thought on the way up vanishes. It is memories of that moment that make every sore muscle and blister after the trip seem not so bad at all. That is what keeps me coming back.

As we relaxed and munched on dried mango (protip: always go with Philippine brand) Brian pointed out that had he been leading up the mountain, his self preservation instincts would have turned him around long ago. Fortunately I have repressed most of those instincts. That led to a short discussion of what our mothers would think…I think mine has given up worrying too much, and would be happy to see me happy. Or, at least, she doesn’t let me know she worries too much. Of the three of us, my mom is definitely the most okay with my trips to mountaintops

And down we go...

Now just for the trip down. Always a little trickier than the way up, as the adrenaline ebbs and you’re forced to face the thousand foot drop in front of you. Again, I was just having an awesome time. Kurt and Brian exhaled deeply as we finally made it back to the glacier. There we also saw another pair of climbers’ footprints (and trekking pole imprints). They had, apparently, turned around at the sight of the 4th class climbing. Either that, or they wanted to get home at a reasonable hour. So, out of the three parties attempting Middle Pal that day, we were the only succesful ones.

Heading down the Middle Pal Glacier. You should be able to pick out Kurt and Brian in the larger version.

In any case, Kurt didn’t rest easy for long though, the adventure wasn’t over. I took a few steps on the snow and promptly fell through, fortunately catching myself with my elbows. As my feet dangled over the bergschrund, I dragged myself onto the snow’s surface and rolled a little ways. Silly of me, I thought to myself: the snow had been softened by the warming rock. And if Kurt wasn’t scared of the snowy glacier before, he was now. Other than that, the rest of the trip back was largely uneventful, even if it felt long. Back at Finger Lake, we rested for a little bit, packed up camp, and headed back to the trailhead. Long hours in the car later (Kurt is a champ at long-distance driving), we pulled into Cupertino at about 2:30 in the morning. “See you at work in a few hours,” we said as we parted.

Quick nap back at camp before the rest of the trip to the trailhead.

As always, check out the galleries or the flickr set for more, and higher quality, pictures.

I thought I hadn’t been climbing outside in a good long while, then my Uncle Joe let me know that he hadn’t been outside in at least 10 years.  So, when an opportune weekend to visit Seattle came up I knew I had to take a day to go climbing with him.  After spending Saturday in the city watching the Sounders with Campo, I walked on over to the ferry terminal and caught a boat to Bainbridge.  For the rest of the night, Joe and I hung off of his porch and messed around with prussiks, autoblocks and etriers, and got excited for climbing the next day.

Campo's got some sweet Sounders season tickets.

We got a thoroughly gentlemanly start (read: opposite of alpine), since I wouldn’t get out of bed until 8 am.  That put us at Index by about 11 that morning.  We racked up at the car, and headed to the base of the Lower Town Wall, an area known as the Great Northern Slab.  Despite not having climbed for longer than I had even thought about climbing, I let Joe take the first lead because he had more cumulative experience than me.  We started out on Sickle Crack (5.7), which is shaped like it sounds.  Slightly larger than a finger crack, it requires a slightly tricky smear before a high step brings your feet into the crack.  Joe protected the move well, though, putting in two pieces of gear!  We headed up around a 5.5 block that required a slightly airy step-over.  The second pitch was a pretty nice hand crack, the first pitch of Pices (5.6).  I’d never done a straight-on crack climb before, but Joe sent it easily and I somehow managed to make my way up.  Joe said it looked smooth, but I think he was just being nice.

Uncle Joe...and he even wore a helmet.

We rapped down, grabbed some lunch, and then Joe handed the rack to me.  It was, after all, supposed to be an opportunity for me to get some practice leading.  As I slung some massive old-school Hexcentrics over my shoulder, I was getting a little bit nervous.  We were headed up the Gully Approach (5.0) which led to the wall’s namesake Great Northern Slab (5.6) a pair of super-fun finger cracks.  As I’ve said before, cracks aren’t really my thing, but I had to try sometime.  Plus, I wasn’t about to let Joe lead all day long.  Instead of doing the Approach unroped, I took the opportunity to practice placing gear, and put in an egregious number of nuts, hexes and cams along the way.  GNS started with a small roof before leading to the face with the twin cracks.  The whole route felt very natural, and I was surprised at how comfortable I felt.  I even ran it out a little bit at the end (which Joe commented on).  

Me on lead.

Once again, we rapped down, but stopped to put in a top rope for the 5.8 (now rated 5.9) fist crack over a small bulge that is the start of Aries.  Joe remembered trying the pitch 15 years ago, and remarked that he kept skating off of it then.  After getting my forearm stuck once, and falling twice, I managed to swing my way up the roof.  On Joe’s turn, managed to send the pitch after falling once (and using way less energy than I had).

Feeling thoroughly sweaty, satisfied (and running a bit late) we took a quick, but very refreshing, dip in the Skykomish River, sorted out the rack and hit the road back to Seattle.

Find out more about the routes on SummitPost: Great Northern Slab (5.6) Aries (5.9)

And, as always, check out the galleries or head straight to my Flickr for more pics.

About my trip report…  that’s what she said.  (Courtesy of my climbing partner Nina Suetake, sometimes better known as @nsmonkeygirl)

Awesome TR by Nina, if you ask me.  I couldn’t have asked for a better trip.  Despite not having met Nina in person before, we got along right from the start.  I felt comfortable climbing, and just hanging out, the whole time.  Climbing with an enthusiastic partner is awesome, and my partner’s smile was constant, enthusiastic, and infectious.  I can only think of one thing I’d do differently next time…steal the rack and lead for a pitch or two!

For more photos, check out the gallery or the flickr set.  Or, I’ll plug it again, check out what she said.

I updated the galleries with photos and maps for a few trips.  FInd it all in the Galleries section or on Flickr.  Here’s what happened:

- Added maps and Google Earth images for the Whitney and Shasta trips.  I think they’re pretty cool, actually.

- Added a gallery for my trip to Seattle.  I spent Saturday with Campo, planning to just go to the Sounders game.  As it happened, the Mariners were playing too, so we bought the cheapest seats we could and enjoyed the second half of the game.  On Sunday I headed to Mt. Index with my Uncle Joe for a little climbing. (A more detailed trip report on that is coming soon.)

- Added a gallery for my solo night hike of Half Dome back in June.  I left the trailhead shortly after midnight, and gained the summit at a little after 4 am.  The whole experience was one of the most special hikes I’ve been on, bar none.  Interestingly, I began hiking only a few hours after a dramatic near-death fall and rescue on the cables section.  For the full story on that, check out the Friends of YOSAR report here.  I can attest firsthand that the granite was really, really slippery.  Scary stuff, but less so if you are properly prepared.

- Added a gallery from this past weekend’s trip to Devil’s Postpile/Yosemite with Teagan.  Saturday we made camp at the NPS campsite at Devil’s Postpile and made and easy 5.5 mile loop to Rainbow Falls and back.  Sunday we had planned to hike Cathedral Peak and Cloud’s Rest, but the rain and electrical activity in the area nixed that plan.  Instead, we enjoyed a relaxing afternoon in the Valley before heading home.

I was catching up on some back reading in my RSS feed, and came across an opinion piece in the Wall Street Journal entitled “Common Sense May Kill ObamaCare.”  One section jumped out at me:

The final bill, with all its complexities, will probably be huge, a thousand pages or so. Americans don’t fear the devil’s in the details, they fear hell is. Do they want the same people running health care who gave us the Department of Motor Vehicles, the post office and the invasion of Iraq?

Lets look at those agencies that apparently we Americans fear so much:

(1) Department of Motor Vehicles.
Okay, I can see why people would not like the government because of the DMV…long maddening lines.  However, the DMV is a state-run organization and is not administered by the federal government.  Strike 1.

(2) Post office
What exactly is wrong with the USPS?  Unless I’m mistaken, it’s a highly efficient, affordably priced, federally run organization.  You’re upset because you have to wait in line at 5 o’clock because you chose to go to the Post Office at 5pm just like everybody else?  Please, give me a break.  Strike 2.

(3) Iraq war.
Now, I guess it’s pretty obvious that the Iraq war has been fraught with issues through and through.  However, I think it’s rather silly to not look at the entity conducting the Iraq war…and other wars, peacekeeping, and humanitarian operations around the world: the US military.  The US military is a fine example of what a government can achieve.  It is the best in the world, from a technological and a strategic perspective.  It provides for its troops and turns out leaders.  Strike 3.

I’m not commenting on whether or not I like the ObamaCare plan.  I don’t know enough about it to comment.  And yes, I am excerpting from an article that does contain some valid points.  I do, however, think that is one poor excuse for logical reasoning, and shame on the Wall Street Journal for publishing that kind of fear-mongering garbage.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how different my Monday-Friday life is from my Friday afternoon-Sunday life. Consistently this summer, Friday afternoon has found me out the door and on the road to one mountain range or another for a weekend of hiking or climbing. I love my weekend adventures, unequivocally. I love my day-job, too, but not in the same way. It is tough to match the feeling that you get kicking steps in steep alpine snow at 5am, or stuffing your hand into a bomber jam and pulling through a roof of beautiful Sierra granite. I’ve felt more excited in the outdoors this summer than I have in a long time; the pain is well worth it. I ran cross this blog post that starts.

“A good day in the mountains is a day where the real world is completely removed from my thoughts. This could happen on your first couple steps from the car if you are lucky but often times for me it requires something more. It is a knife edge ridge…”

While the author is a snowboarder, the sentiment and love of the outdoors and exhilaration translate well to my point of view.  It’s a good read about the passion that outdoor adventure can inspire.