The dearth of recent essential mass messages can be explained in on word: Surfing. The last couple weeks have brought consistent waves and one epic swell (more on that later), and we have pared our lives down to the bare essentials: eat, sleep, surf. No time for superfluous activities like blogging, reading, conversation, laundry... Actually it hasn´t been quite that bad, and we have even squeezed in a couple of public musical performances (one at a local bar and one at an organic farmstand), Spanish lessons, new friendships, and the preparation of fine cuisine (primarily involving our new favorite fruit, the maracuya).
However, surfing has been the overriding focus ever since good waves showed up just in time for the big Canoa surf comp (maybe you saw it in the news? The Canoa Pro Classic) several weeks ago. The locals boys struggled against the rippers from Montanitas and Atacames, but one squeezed onto the podium in third to salvage the town´s pride.
Rose, I am proud to announce, has been killing it in the waves lately, making huge strides - surfing til her ribs ache, popping a few Advil, and paddling back out for another session. Her recent highlights include a clean, green, hundred-yard long left at Mompiche that brought all us spectators on the beach to our feet, clapping and hooting.
Our Mompiche trip from last week (Mompiche is Ecuador´s finest wave, an incredible lefthand pointbreak) was pretty incredible. We tagged along on a spur of the moment trip some friends were making, and lucked into some truly amazing waves during one of the best (and biggest!) swells to hit Mompiche in a couple of years. Although Mompiche lies less than 150 km north of Canoa, it takes about 6 hours in various buses and pickup trucks (a bit more if you end up walking the last 8 km like we had to due to the dearth of passing cars to flag down...). However, we were rewarded by amazing waves reeling off a rocky point break, every bit as gorgeous as those glossy Indonesia spreads in the surf mags. The big set waves on our first afternoon were solid double-overhead, with glassy calm conditions - truly amazing! The rides were so long it would take 20 minutes to paddle back out to catch another. The wave starts breaking over a reef directly in front of some nasty rocks, and the first section is fast and hollow, but then slows down and rolls more slowly and relentlessly over a nice sandy bottom all the way into the bay - something for everyone! The other highlight from Mompiche was an earthquake (two actually but I slept through the second) - a solid 30 seconds of strong shaking that sent coke bottles shattering across the floor, put a big crack in the roof of the restaraunt we were in, and knocked down a few walls next door. It left us a bit jittery, but the locals were unfazed and no tsunami followed.
Lest our readership start thinking that our life down here in Ecuador has been nothing but fun and games let me compile a short list of the various ailments we have suffered in the last two weeks: bruised ribs, countless sandfly bites, a wasp sting, a stingray sting, a smallpox-like armpit rash (fungal infection?), plus a pair of feet covered in scrapes, scars, and bruises from rock encounters (I didn´t quite master the elegant leap off the rocks which shortcuts the long swim out in Mompiche...).
And in other news, the freckles on my back have finally melded into one uniform, pre-cancerous blotch, and my hair has grown so long that everyone I meet tries to sell me pot. And Rose´s fiddle playing has become so sweet that she has been inundated by requests for lessons, in spite of the fact that she has the only violin in all of Manabi...
Hope this message finds everyone in fine spirits and health heading into the holidays,
Ty
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
San Andreas de Canoa
Hello Friends,
We've had a great couple of weeks here in Canoa, though somewhat anti-climactic. Some of you may have heard about the earthquake that recently hit the coast of Ecuador. Although it was a 6.6 you all probably heard about it before we did. It hit at 10.30 PM last Friday as we learned from our landlord Ricardo the following morning. As he described it, dogs were barking, kids cried, people ran into the streets and Ty and I...slept.
The following morning some great waves rolled in and Ty went out for an early morning surf session. He had all the waves to himself, a fact easily attributed to the thriving night life here. A friend told us yesterday however, that there was a Tsunami warning that morning which was likely more to blame for the lack of surfers than any debilitating hangovers. He'd noticed Ty out there and assumed that Ty was trying to catch the wave of his life. Thankfully the Tsunami never came, but the good waves lasted through the weekend.
When Ty and I aren't chasing waves around and simultaneously trying to hide our pale selves from the equatorial sun, we've both found some new projects to jump into. Ty has become a master handline fisherman, stocking our fridge and freezer with all sorts of fresh fish and contributing to the sudden and welcome spike in our ceviche consumption. Recently we also started polishing some tunes as our Spanish teacher --we finally began taking Spanish classes--invited us to play at the bar/restaurant/hotel where she works, during the ubiquotously popular "hoppy our" as it is known here in Canoa.
I've been spending some time volunteering in the local elementary school. My first day there I thought I was just going to observe and figure out a schedule-which two weeks later remains elusive. That first mornign it became apparent that observing meant teaching an impromptu art class which ended abrubtly when all the students in the school flooded the playground for reasons that still remain mysterious to me. I followed them out there and bumped into the 2nd grade teacher who beseachingly invited me to teach an English lesson to her class of 40. I can't imagine what her classroom is like with all her students are in attendence becuase with 35 it struck me as surreal and even apocolyptic. The chaos was exacerbated by the presence of the drum and bugle corp. practicing immediately outside our classroom, which lacks upper walls. Inside the classroom a particularly small and meek looking girl pounded on desks with a long 2x2--which I later learned the teacher used on her students' knuckles when they misbehaved--expressing the authority that I lacked. A little boy removed the top of his rusting desk and began precarously lugging it around the classroom with an undisclosed destination in mind. Meanwhile 2 other little boys had their hands around each other's neck and seemed to be applying pressure. An endless line of girls in groups of 2 had to use the bathroom and while they wandered out, a puppy and then a toddler wandered in. A boy awkwardly tried pushing the puppy up a girl's skirt while the toddler seated itself on teaching platform and sucked on its passifier, engrossed with the boys who were climbing the window bars. Similar scenes seem to be the accepted reality in schools here. So, if any of you parents and teachers have tips on your art, I could use your guidance.
I hope you all enjoy a tasty Thanksgiving surrounded by loved-ones.
Rosa
We've had a great couple of weeks here in Canoa, though somewhat anti-climactic. Some of you may have heard about the earthquake that recently hit the coast of Ecuador. Although it was a 6.6 you all probably heard about it before we did. It hit at 10.30 PM last Friday as we learned from our landlord Ricardo the following morning. As he described it, dogs were barking, kids cried, people ran into the streets and Ty and I...slept.
The following morning some great waves rolled in and Ty went out for an early morning surf session. He had all the waves to himself, a fact easily attributed to the thriving night life here. A friend told us yesterday however, that there was a Tsunami warning that morning which was likely more to blame for the lack of surfers than any debilitating hangovers. He'd noticed Ty out there and assumed that Ty was trying to catch the wave of his life. Thankfully the Tsunami never came, but the good waves lasted through the weekend.
When Ty and I aren't chasing waves around and simultaneously trying to hide our pale selves from the equatorial sun, we've both found some new projects to jump into. Ty has become a master handline fisherman, stocking our fridge and freezer with all sorts of fresh fish and contributing to the sudden and welcome spike in our ceviche consumption. Recently we also started polishing some tunes as our Spanish teacher --we finally began taking Spanish classes--invited us to play at the bar/restaurant/hotel where she works, during the ubiquotously popular "hoppy our" as it is known here in Canoa.
I've been spending some time volunteering in the local elementary school. My first day there I thought I was just going to observe and figure out a schedule-which two weeks later remains elusive. That first mornign it became apparent that observing meant teaching an impromptu art class which ended abrubtly when all the students in the school flooded the playground for reasons that still remain mysterious to me. I followed them out there and bumped into the 2nd grade teacher who beseachingly invited me to teach an English lesson to her class of 40. I can't imagine what her classroom is like with all her students are in attendence becuase with 35 it struck me as surreal and even apocolyptic. The chaos was exacerbated by the presence of the drum and bugle corp. practicing immediately outside our classroom, which lacks upper walls. Inside the classroom a particularly small and meek looking girl pounded on desks with a long 2x2--which I later learned the teacher used on her students' knuckles when they misbehaved--expressing the authority that I lacked. A little boy removed the top of his rusting desk and began precarously lugging it around the classroom with an undisclosed destination in mind. Meanwhile 2 other little boys had their hands around each other's neck and seemed to be applying pressure. An endless line of girls in groups of 2 had to use the bathroom and while they wandered out, a puppy and then a toddler wandered in. A boy awkwardly tried pushing the puppy up a girl's skirt while the toddler seated itself on teaching platform and sucked on its passifier, engrossed with the boys who were climbing the window bars. Similar scenes seem to be the accepted reality in schools here. So, if any of you parents and teachers have tips on your art, I could use your guidance.
I hope you all enjoy a tasty Thanksgiving surrounded by loved-ones.
Rosa
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Photos!
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| Peru and Ecuador |
As promised, some photos from Peru and Ecuador. Just click on the image above and check out the slidshow. Enjoy!
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Domestic Bliss
During our visit with her in Peru, my aunt Elena, in a good-hearted effort to encourage us to quit our ramblin´ways and settle down, threatened to buy us that paragon of stable domesticity, the blender cozy. We resisted strenuously, but it turns out that the joke is on us, because here we are, mere weeks later, settled down in Canoa, Ecuador, renting a furnished apartment and wishing we had an embroidered cozy to cover our unsightly blender.
Regardless, we are very psyched to be settled for a while, after nearly a month of steady travel. First a quick update on our path to Canoa, then a bit more about the lovely village itself as well as our present attitude and station. (I have been reading Dickens as of late, patient reader, and I fear it has influenced my writing style in an adverse manner)
Anyhow, we moved north from Mancora (the site of Rose´s sunburn which is healing nicely, no scars) on an epic bus ride, aided by a friendly Argentine fellow traveler, to Montanita, which was still bustling at 2 AM when we arrived. Convenient, as we could grab a hamburger to curb our hunger at that ghastly hour, but not great for sleeping as we were soon to find. Montanita has a nice righthand point break, and a restaraunt that serves terrific coffee and huge Ecuadorian breakfasts (The Happy Donkey), but was just a bit too wild for us. All night parties every night, 2 for 1 drinks from 6:30 til close (6AM) at all the bars, blaring music competing for dominance over the natural silence of the night... Anyhow, after a few days we headed north again to Puerto Lopez, where we did some kayaking (we saw humpback whales, a sea turtle, and swamped on every single surf landing!) and a bike tour. Then north again to Canoa, where we now reside, via yet another epic bus ride. This one was supposed to take 5 hours, but ended up lasting 8. In fact, we have yet to take a bus ride that didn´t take hours longer than the advertised length. Luckily this one passed quickly, entertained as we were by some wonderful kung fu movies, played at maximum volume. Though my spanish comprehension is still lagging, I could follow these pretty well, and cheered loudly with everyone else as the protagonist delivered his trademark death blow, a sequential chest-pounding which leaves his victim apparently unscathed until his head explodes nearly a minute later!
After a few days in Canoa, we decided it met our criteria for a longer stay, tranquility, warm water, waves, trails and dirt roads to run on, a spanish school, and good fruit smoothies. We lucked out and quickly found the perfect little rental, a 2-story brick place (we are hoping for a seismically inactive stay, as the town was levelled in 1941 and 1998 - ironically the patron saint of the town is San Andreas). We have a dining room table made from a huge log round, fully stocked kitchen with fridge and stove/oven and a USA style bathroom downstairs, and two bedrooms and a balcony upstairs.
I won´t bore you with scenes of recent domestic tranquility but here is a taste: preparing fresh dorado ceviche, playing some tunes on the three (yes readers, three) stringed instruments we brought, pan-roasting green coffee beans for the morning´s coffee, trips to market, trying to teach the neighborhood kids how to play the mandolin and fiddle, Rose baking terriffic bread, endless blender-loads of fresh fruit smoothies (including my new favorite flavor, avocado, try it!). Plus we bought an 8 foot funboard (after a brutal haggling session to bring down the price, which ballooned with our interest) so we have been surfing a bunch.
Anyhow, loyal readers, some photos eventually I promise, as well as a tale of getting lost in the jungle with nothing but the roars of howler monkeys ringing in our ears...
Regardless, we are very psyched to be settled for a while, after nearly a month of steady travel. First a quick update on our path to Canoa, then a bit more about the lovely village itself as well as our present attitude and station. (I have been reading Dickens as of late, patient reader, and I fear it has influenced my writing style in an adverse manner)
Anyhow, we moved north from Mancora (the site of Rose´s sunburn which is healing nicely, no scars) on an epic bus ride, aided by a friendly Argentine fellow traveler, to Montanita, which was still bustling at 2 AM when we arrived. Convenient, as we could grab a hamburger to curb our hunger at that ghastly hour, but not great for sleeping as we were soon to find. Montanita has a nice righthand point break, and a restaraunt that serves terrific coffee and huge Ecuadorian breakfasts (The Happy Donkey), but was just a bit too wild for us. All night parties every night, 2 for 1 drinks from 6:30 til close (6AM) at all the bars, blaring music competing for dominance over the natural silence of the night... Anyhow, after a few days we headed north again to Puerto Lopez, where we did some kayaking (we saw humpback whales, a sea turtle, and swamped on every single surf landing!) and a bike tour. Then north again to Canoa, where we now reside, via yet another epic bus ride. This one was supposed to take 5 hours, but ended up lasting 8. In fact, we have yet to take a bus ride that didn´t take hours longer than the advertised length. Luckily this one passed quickly, entertained as we were by some wonderful kung fu movies, played at maximum volume. Though my spanish comprehension is still lagging, I could follow these pretty well, and cheered loudly with everyone else as the protagonist delivered his trademark death blow, a sequential chest-pounding which leaves his victim apparently unscathed until his head explodes nearly a minute later!
After a few days in Canoa, we decided it met our criteria for a longer stay, tranquility, warm water, waves, trails and dirt roads to run on, a spanish school, and good fruit smoothies. We lucked out and quickly found the perfect little rental, a 2-story brick place (we are hoping for a seismically inactive stay, as the town was levelled in 1941 and 1998 - ironically the patron saint of the town is San Andreas). We have a dining room table made from a huge log round, fully stocked kitchen with fridge and stove/oven and a USA style bathroom downstairs, and two bedrooms and a balcony upstairs.
I won´t bore you with scenes of recent domestic tranquility but here is a taste: preparing fresh dorado ceviche, playing some tunes on the three (yes readers, three) stringed instruments we brought, pan-roasting green coffee beans for the morning´s coffee, trips to market, trying to teach the neighborhood kids how to play the mandolin and fiddle, Rose baking terriffic bread, endless blender-loads of fresh fruit smoothies (including my new favorite flavor, avocado, try it!). Plus we bought an 8 foot funboard (after a brutal haggling session to bring down the price, which ballooned with our interest) so we have been surfing a bunch.
Anyhow, loyal readers, some photos eventually I promise, as well as a tale of getting lost in the jungle with nothing but the roars of howler monkeys ringing in our ears...
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Chan Chan, or how we came to give our email addresses to 30 Peruvian schoolgirls
Sorry bout the lack of updates, but we have been busy travelers. Anyhow, we are up in Ecuador, in a town called Puerto Lopez. Ecuador is much greener and swarming with Vermillion Flycatchers, which never cease to impress me with their bright plumage. When we crossed the border from Peru we asked the guy next to us in the bus what sort of currency they use in Ecuador (quetzales? sucres?). Turns out they use the good ol US dollar, which is oh so convenient as we no longer have to divide everything by 3 to figure how much it costs.
We have been migrating north in seach of warmer water (which we have found!) and sun (no sign of any of that yet). Apparently the sunny season on the coast doesn´t begin for a couple more weeks. Maybe this is a good thing, since the last sunny day (in Mancora, Peru) resulted in some pretty serious sunburn on Rose´s legs. In fact, she is just now walking without a limp and it is about a week later (slight exaggeration maybe). The only consolation was that the burn was acquired during a great surf session in which she caught a bunch of sweet waves... Small price to pay? We´ll have to see how the scars turn out... Anyhow, we migrated relatively quickly north along the frigid and desolate Peruvian coast. We had a great visit with my aunt Elena, a nun living in Chulucanas, Peru. She showed us all sort of interesting local sights and introduced us to our new favorite pastime, the siesta!
Anyhow, before it drifts too far into the past to remember, I just wanted to relate a funny experience we had down by the town of Trujillo, Peru:
As you can well imagine, Rose and I blend right in down here, except for the fact that we are really white and a head taller than everyone else. We are somewhat self-conscious about our conspicuousness. In fact, the highlight of our trip so far was being mistaken for Brazilians the other day - how cool is that?
Anyhow, one day we were strolling around the ruins of Chan Chan, a huge, pre-colombian adobe city and ran into a huge herd of 12-13 yr. old schoolgirls, dressed in matching uniforms. They were out for a holiday trip (8th of October, anniversary of a war with Chile that I think Peru actually lost) and didn´t seem too keen on the adobe city. However, they were fascinated by us, especially after we started to chat with them a little bit. Pretty soon were were being mobbed with questions (How old are you? How many kids to you have? What the heck kind of name is Ty? (¨Rosa¨ rolls nicely off the castillophonic tongue)), requests for photos with us, and our email addresses. After posing for a bunch of photos and writing our email a couple of dozen times, they were so kind as to give us a ride in their bus back to the main road, saving a kilometer or two of walking. Anyhow, now we have a little sense of what it feels like to be a rock star - or at least the member of a tween-oriented pop group. Should be good preparation in case our musical careers finally start to take off...
More soon loyal readers, and maybe even a photo or two.
Ty
We have been migrating north in seach of warmer water (which we have found!) and sun (no sign of any of that yet). Apparently the sunny season on the coast doesn´t begin for a couple more weeks. Maybe this is a good thing, since the last sunny day (in Mancora, Peru) resulted in some pretty serious sunburn on Rose´s legs. In fact, she is just now walking without a limp and it is about a week later (slight exaggeration maybe). The only consolation was that the burn was acquired during a great surf session in which she caught a bunch of sweet waves... Small price to pay? We´ll have to see how the scars turn out... Anyhow, we migrated relatively quickly north along the frigid and desolate Peruvian coast. We had a great visit with my aunt Elena, a nun living in Chulucanas, Peru. She showed us all sort of interesting local sights and introduced us to our new favorite pastime, the siesta!
Anyhow, before it drifts too far into the past to remember, I just wanted to relate a funny experience we had down by the town of Trujillo, Peru:
As you can well imagine, Rose and I blend right in down here, except for the fact that we are really white and a head taller than everyone else. We are somewhat self-conscious about our conspicuousness. In fact, the highlight of our trip so far was being mistaken for Brazilians the other day - how cool is that?
Anyhow, one day we were strolling around the ruins of Chan Chan, a huge, pre-colombian adobe city and ran into a huge herd of 12-13 yr. old schoolgirls, dressed in matching uniforms. They were out for a holiday trip (8th of October, anniversary of a war with Chile that I think Peru actually lost) and didn´t seem too keen on the adobe city. However, they were fascinated by us, especially after we started to chat with them a little bit. Pretty soon were were being mobbed with questions (How old are you? How many kids to you have? What the heck kind of name is Ty? (¨Rosa¨ rolls nicely off the castillophonic tongue)), requests for photos with us, and our email addresses. After posing for a bunch of photos and writing our email a couple of dozen times, they were so kind as to give us a ride in their bus back to the main road, saving a kilometer or two of walking. Anyhow, now we have a little sense of what it feels like to be a rock star - or at least the member of a tween-oriented pop group. Should be good preparation in case our musical careers finally start to take off...
More soon loyal readers, and maybe even a photo or two.
Ty
Monday, October 8, 2007
Huanchaco
Greetings from Huanchaco, Peru! We arrived in this quiet beach town on Saterday after spending 3 days in Lima visiting museums, dodging traffic, and trying to decipher Spanish language newspapers (things are not looking good for Pinochet´s family). Among the more unusual museums we visited was El Monestario de los Dezcalsos (monestary of the barefooted monks). It has an enourmous collection of Peruvian religious art decorating the monks´quarters, preserved from the 17th century. We toured the rooms where the monks slept, ate, prayed, made wine, and mixed medecines. The monestary was, and still is, an oasis in the midst of a pretty overwhelming city, made more so by the remarkable amount of diesel in the air. After 3 days we felt glad to board a bus for the 10 hr. overnight ride north which began with a viewing of ¨Die Hard 4 ¨ that made the journey through the endless outskirts of Lima all the more riveting.
Although Lima was stimulating, it feels great to be in a more tranquil town where a person can hear the ocean and breath clean air, smell the ceviche! We spent some time in the water yesterday, I laying on my surf board and paddling around more than standing on it. The surfers here share the waves with men dressed in blue pants and white shirts, a sash around their waste paddling slender and pointed boats made of reeds. Traditionally a fisherman´s sport, they paddle out in unison and seem to share a ride on the same wave back into shore--no competition for waves there.
Pues, we´re heading into the neighboring town of Trujillo today to check out language schools now. So, look for the next EMM in Spanish!
Hasta luego,
Rosa
Although Lima was stimulating, it feels great to be in a more tranquil town where a person can hear the ocean and breath clean air, smell the ceviche! We spent some time in the water yesterday, I laying on my surf board and paddling around more than standing on it. The surfers here share the waves with men dressed in blue pants and white shirts, a sash around their waste paddling slender and pointed boats made of reeds. Traditionally a fisherman´s sport, they paddle out in unison and seem to share a ride on the same wave back into shore--no competition for waves there.
Pues, we´re heading into the neighboring town of Trujillo today to check out language schools now. So, look for the next EMM in Spanish!
Hasta luego,
Rosa
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Back in Time - Delicate Arch
Still in Wyoming - til October 2 when the long road finally heads south! We've been enjoying the lovely fall weather and colors. Backpacking, fishing, climbing, traveling, and catching up with friends.
Anyhow, the purpose of this EMM is to show some photos from back on the road in the spring, which we are just now getting sorted.
These images are from a great jaunt into Arches National Park for an evening picnic and light show at Delicate Arch, which is still standing in spite of the reports of a notorious soul climber/free soloist trying to tear it down...
In addition to the lovely arch view, Rose and I met some fascinating expat Russian amatuer photographers on a whirlwind (5 day, 4 state) southwest photo tour. They noticed Rose and I eating a dry supper of bread and cheese (and a cucumber) and gave us a beer to wash it down with. Then they included us in their celebratory dessert of port and fresh grapes (nice combo!) and entertained us with tales from their epic photographic odyssey. They were ecstatic about the photos they nabbed of the arch, and relieved to be travelling without their wives, who apparently prefer souvenir shopping to marathon 5 hour drives between photo sites - imagine!
Enjoy the photos,
Ty
Anyhow, the purpose of this EMM is to show some photos from back on the road in the spring, which we are just now getting sorted.
These images are from a great jaunt into Arches National Park for an evening picnic and light show at Delicate Arch, which is still standing in spite of the reports of a notorious soul climber/free soloist trying to tear it down...
In addition to the lovely arch view, Rose and I met some fascinating expat Russian amatuer photographers on a whirlwind (5 day, 4 state) southwest photo tour. They noticed Rose and I eating a dry supper of bread and cheese (and a cucumber) and gave us a beer to wash it down with. Then they included us in their celebratory dessert of port and fresh grapes (nice combo!) and entertained us with tales from their epic photographic odyssey. They were ecstatic about the photos they nabbed of the arch, and relieved to be travelling without their wives, who apparently prefer souvenir shopping to marathon 5 hour drives between photo sites - imagine!
Enjoy the photos,
Ty
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| Delicate Arch |
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Back in Ol Wyomin
As usual, I'll begin this essential mass message with an apology for the long gap. My only excuse is that Rose and I are reading the latest Harry Potter, and things have been looking pretty desperate for our hero...
Anyhow, here is the latest. We have been back in Lander for the last couple weeks, and are oh-so-relieved not to be living out of a cramped Cavalier any more. We enjoyed a great visit with our friends Brian and Katie, who flew out from Vermont to visit and spend some time in the Wyoming mountains. We carried all our climbing gear into the Tetons for some bouldering (it was rainy). Then we spent a few days back in Lander, staying up at the cabin, climbing at Wild Iris, and playing music and bridge. Finally, we embarked on a five-day trip into the Cirque of the Towers. In spite of the continued rainy weather, we were able to climb Pingora, Wolfs Head, and Mitchell Peak, do some great bouldering, and catch some fish. Rose was especially successful in providing fish to supplement our meager, sugar-free diet of various dried foods. The Grouse Whortleberries were in full swing, as well as a few blueberries, but they seemed to take more calories to gather than they provided in sustenance. It was fabulous to spend some time with Katie and Brian, and sad to see them return to VT. Check out a few photos here:
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| Back in Old Wyoming |
Last weekend Rose and I ducked up to Tensleep, WY and attended Nowoodstock VII, a great music festival at the foot of the Bighorn Mountains. Saw some good music, including Tensleep's own Jalan Crossland, the Dan Walker band, and a really tight Colorado bluegrass band called "Great Divide". We also got some climbing in up at the Mondo Beyondo in Tensleep Canyon.
That's all for now, the only other major news is that we are departing for Peru on October 2! Hasta luego.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Haida Gwaii
Well, the truth is, we've been hearing some disgruntled rumblings from our loyal readers about the general lack of essential messaging lately. And the only argument I can make in our defense is that being retired is not all about watching the clouds and wondering what to make for dinner. Especially not when you're visiting Barbara and Charlie Mack on Haida Gwaii (aka Queen Charlotte Islands) Ty and I just arrived in Lander, WY after spending 2 magical weeks with his folks in BC. Winnowing down the trip to a handful of highlights is a tall order, but here's an attempt:
After arriving we didn't waste much time in setting out for a 4-day kayaking trip that took us out to the untamed western side of Haida Gwaii to visit the site of an old Haida village. On the way, we paddled over miles of a colorful, watery universe including colonies of bat stars, sun stars, sea enenomies, moon jellies and muscles. Rock crab scuttled around in the eel grass, and we caught some tasty rock fish. At the village site we found two totem poles still standing in the abandoned woods amid giant ferns and moss-covered hemlock and sitka spruce. The paddle home was exciting for several reasons including the two orcas we saw and the fabulous blue tarp sail that Ty rigged up for our double Kayak, allowing us to sail most of the way home. On the paddle home we also stopped by an amazing little organic farm on Maude Island, to do a little weeding and learn about the challenges of organic farming at the end of the earth.
Our visit with Barbara and Charlie also included some fabulous bear viewing, salmon berry picking, music playing, halibut fishing and some wild hikes and runs through the mossy rainforest of Haida Gwaii. Certainly experiencing all the wildlife and the beautifully rugged landscape of the island was a great adventure, but perhaps my favorite moments of the whole trip happened at the dinner table where we all had a chance to tell stories, polish our political diatribes, laugh, and enjoy the colorful bounty of BC (inspiringly, the Macks are on the low-carbon 100-mile diet).
The entire trip up to Canada was a lot of fun, from being harassed by Canadian customs officers at the border crossing (you don't have jobs?!?!), to our last night in a funky little town-owned campground in Milk River (Ty's place of birth). In fact, our only disappointment in Canada was with the quality of the programming on BBC radio, which Canadians explained was normal since the entire "regular" BBC staff takes the whole summer off and the B-team is left to run the show. That and the tiny cups of coffee at Tim Hortons (Canada's answer to Dunkin Donuts) - I really felt like an American saying "You call that thimbleful a Large?"
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Freeridden, or freeloading on Freerider
Success! Over the period of four days I was able to free climb El Capitan via the route Freerider, a three pitch variation to the Salathe Wall that skips the oh-so-impressive (and burly!) Salathe headwall.
I lucked out and met a fabulous partner Tom Moulin while I was up mini-traxioning (rehearsing alone with a self belay) the upper pitches on May 17. Tom was also hoping to free climb el cap, and had already stashed a bunch of food, water and bivy gear to support such an effort. So, after a weekend in the Bay Area and a recon trip from the ground (via some handy fixed ropes and a bunch of climbing) to the boulder problem pitch (the technical crux) with el cap veteran and great climber Nick Martino, we headed up the route, swapping leads, following free, and hauling only a light bag.
A marathon day one brought us to "The Alcove", a great ledge below El Cap Spire. A whole bunch of quality and pretty damn physical climbing including the fearsome monster offwidth pitches. We then took a rest day at the alcove, during which I finally knuckled down and finished Wuthering Heights - neither Tom, nor Cedar and Nick, who climbed the route a day later and shared the Alcove our second night and were resting the next day could be convinced to read more than a page, despite the fitting title and the fact that it was the only book at the bivy (only book on el cap?).
Day three took us up to "The Block" - only 5 pitches higher in a shady morning's climbing. I led the boulder problem pitch and fired first try, to the relief of my extremely thin tip skin. Tom fired the boulder problem on his second try and had the pleasure of leading The Sewer, the foulest pitch on the route, which was soaking and muddy as usual, uggghh. We rested all afternoon, ate most of the last of our food, obsessed about the coming pitches, and tried to ignore the overwhelming smell of urine that accompanies many el cap bivy ledges when it hasn't rained in a while.
Day four took us 8 more pitches to the top. I took my only fall of the climb following the first corner pitch above Soux le toit ledge in the morning, but lowered back to the belay and sent it next try. The second corner pitch, one of the toughest on the route, was nice and dry and I was relieved to fire it first try, but not without a pretty good fight. The traverse over to the "Knights of the Round Table" ledge (where the route leaves the Salathe) felt desperate, with the ricey footholds and exposed position, but I managed not to fall. The final four pitches, including the somewhat fearsome wide pitch went smoothly and we topped out around 3:30PM. We then rapped the route and cleaned off all our stashed gear and trash - this was the part that I dreaded but it went pretty darn smoothly and we were back on the valley floor well before dark and had plenty of time for a shower and pizza at camp curry.
I am eternally indebted to Tom, who was a great partner for the route and put in a lot work stashing all the gear that let us do the climb without hauling heavy bags. Tom came really close to a free ascent too, missing only the second monster (which he actually lowered down to on our rest day and laybacked!), the first corner, and the traverse pitch.
Anyhow, a huge relief to have finally achieved a long-term climbing goal. Now my friend Brian Lenz is out from Jackson for his first week ever in the valley, and he is helping keep me from resting too much, and distracting me from moping around and missing Rose, who is now home in Wisconsin, where I will be joining her in a week. West Face of el cap tomorrow so I gotta rest up...
Ty
Friday, May 25, 2007
Freerider
Friends, Faithful readers of our not-so-faithful Essential Mass Message,
I wish you could have seen what I just saw, the sight that moved me to do a number of things, including but not limited to, calling my parents (who sadly weren't home), contemplating calling everyone who ever knew about Ty's desire to free climb El Cap, and finally sending out an Essential Mass Message. This is really the perfect medium to communicate something that is so inspiring it's too big for the phone. Not to be seen from the ground with the naked eye, only visible through high powered binoculars, Ty Mack is now about 1800 feet off the ground on the face of North America's most majestic (and absolutely fucking huge!) monolith, El Capitan for the first of four days he'll spend on it. He and his partner Tom started at 4 this morning, and if you're familiar with the Freerider route, they're now on the monster off width just below El Cap spire. I felt a little strange peering at those two specks moving (with remarkable speed) up the wall, as I could see them, and they could not see me, but the absolute certainty and skill with which they moved made me resist pulling my eyes out of the binoculars. Ty might turn a becoming shade of red if he reads this, but watching him on that wall, practicing his art, made my heart swell.
Well friends, I hope you are practicing your art too. When I left for college, my dad gave me a short list of things he proposed one should always do; besides cleaning hair out of the shower, living lightly on the earth, and being in the company of folks who love you and whom you love , he advised that people should always be doing something that they love. I hope you are now, (I mean besides reading our blog).
Cheers,
Rose
I wish you could have seen what I just saw, the sight that moved me to do a number of things, including but not limited to, calling my parents (who sadly weren't home), contemplating calling everyone who ever knew about Ty's desire to free climb El Cap, and finally sending out an Essential Mass Message. This is really the perfect medium to communicate something that is so inspiring it's too big for the phone. Not to be seen from the ground with the naked eye, only visible through high powered binoculars, Ty Mack is now about 1800 feet off the ground on the face of North America's most majestic (and absolutely fucking huge!) monolith, El Capitan for the first of four days he'll spend on it. He and his partner Tom started at 4 this morning, and if you're familiar with the Freerider route, they're now on the monster off width just below El Cap spire. I felt a little strange peering at those two specks moving (with remarkable speed) up the wall, as I could see them, and they could not see me, but the absolute certainty and skill with which they moved made me resist pulling my eyes out of the binoculars. Ty might turn a becoming shade of red if he reads this, but watching him on that wall, practicing his art, made my heart swell.
Well friends, I hope you are practicing your art too. When I left for college, my dad gave me a short list of things he proposed one should always do; besides cleaning hair out of the shower, living lightly on the earth, and being in the company of folks who love you and whom you love , he advised that people should always be doing something that they love. I hope you are now, (I mean besides reading our blog).
Cheers,
Rose
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Catch Up
Once again we have been too busy to blog, and are running out of excuses so I won't make any. Anyhow, here is what we have been up to since leaving Moab on the 26th of April.
First we drove across S. Utah stopping at Natural Bridges (where we bagged all the major bridges in well under the tourist average of 1.5 hours) and camping in Capital(ol?) Reef NP. Then on to Escalante where we took a gorgous run up Calf Creek to the amazing waterfall pictured at left. The only blemish on this perfect day was a brazen raven who stole our only LaraBar (the new Mole flavor too!) from our pack and then taunted us from the air for a half hour. This day ended in Zion, where we caught up with some old friends of mine in the local climbers ghetto. My hopes for a quick jaunt up Moonlight Buttress were thwarted by the 90+ degree head and the lack of psyched partners, but we were able to do some cragging and I ran up "The Organasm" which was super fun. Then off to Flagstaff where I smashed our mtn biking dreams by driving under a low hanging branch - but it can't be all downhill and daisies can it?
Next down to Phoenix for a nice visit with Rose's grandfather and his wife, who kindly sold us their Chevrolet Cavalier - the ultimate incognito roadtrip vehicle. In it we are invisible to ornery park rangers and marauding bears, knock on wood...
Then on to J-Tree, after which Rose headed to Long Beach for a coffee conference which she enjoyed thoroughly, and I off to Yosemite and the upper pitches on the Salathe and Freerider on El Cap.
Reunited later at Lover's Leap in the glorious Sierras, we had a great visit with the Mack clan, and my folks (who I hadn't seen in almost 3 years!) in Reno.
Then back to Yosemite Valley with a quick detour to catch up with my friend Anne Stanley in Bishop (she is off to Pakistan now for a trek into K2!) - Tioga Pass opened early which helped cut the drive times down.
Then off for a glorious weekend with Rose's aunt Gwynne in Mill Valley - birthday partying, wining and dining, mtn biking, swimming in the icy pacific - what a place!
Now back in the Ditch again (yosemite valley), lurkin' (resting and killing time) and staying at Camp 4 (legendary international climbers ghetto).
More soon - we promise,
Ty
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Better late...
Ty here, apologizing for the lack of essential mass messages lately. It turns out that the days are shorter out west, and there just isn't enough time to fit it all in - good thing we don't have any real time drains, like jobs
Anyhow, here is what we have been up to since our fabulous stay in Boulder with Adley and Galen (see first photo in the following photo album):
A quick jaunt to visit my friend Nick Meyer in Gunnison, CO. Nick and I got a day of climbing in the Black Canyon - did a route called "Trilogy". Super cool in a Black Canyon sort of way - intimidating, a bit loose and scary, but pretty damn fun overall. On our way out of town, Nick rode us into the ground at the legendary Hartman Rocks.
Then over to the Grand Junction area, where Rose and I climbed Independence Monument in Colorado National Monument (so many monuments...). We did a wild route called "Otto's Route" which follows a line of great two and three finger pockets (drilled by Otto) which once held lengths of pipe and allowed a ladder-like ascent of this lovely sandstone tower. The pipes are all gone now, leaving a really fun rock climb.
Indian Creek next, where we camped with friends from Wyoming (and Idaho) and climbed some lovely splitter cracks, listened to gobbling turkeys and chattering chukar, and did some mountain biking too.
Finally back up to Moab (in a rare rainstorm) for some reprovisioning and a trip in to watch a spectacular light show on Delicate Arch in Arches N.P., where we had the honor of sharing a bottle of port and fresh grapes (great combo - try it!) with some very enthusiastic Russian computer programmers/amatuer photographers/road warriors/bachelors for a week on a whirlwind photo tour of the desert southwest (without their wives and families who, apparently, just slow them down and want to visit the souvenir shops - Rose suggested that maybe they just picked the wrong wives - not to their faces of course).
And finally an ascent of Castleton Tower via the Kor-Ingalls route. Rose relished the physical wide crack climbing and the summit view was spectacular, with a new dusting of snow on the LaSalle Mountains.
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| Canyon Country |
Sunday, April 8, 2007
Good company in Colorado
Well, I must have brought winter west with me; I can't seem to escape it. After weeks of 60 and 70 degree weather, Boulder's white once again. Ty and I had a sunny day of climbing at Eldorado Canyon for Ty's birthday, before the ice and snow arrived. That one day of intense color was so welcome though, the red rock feeding lichen in every shade of green, the vanilla scented pondorosa pines, blue sky.
We've been staying with Adley and Gaelan in their sweet cabin, nestled up against the Flat Irons in Chautaqua Park. Miles of trails meander up through the mountains from their home. They share the park with fox, mule deer, bears, and the occasional mountain lion. We've encountered the former two on some trail runs. The fox are especially friendly...and suspiciously round and sleek looking.
Seeing Ty again and visiting Adley and Gaelan has felt like coming home. We've been playing music, telling stories, cooking. They taught us a killer card game, progressive rummy, a tradition with Gaelan's family. Adley and I tried to make Ty a birthday cake, but it didn't quite turn out as planned. Despite Moosewood's best intentions, nothing beats loads of butter and sugar; baking at elevation's also a little new to us Midwestern girls.
I send love to you all,
Rose
We've been staying with Adley and Gaelan in their sweet cabin, nestled up against the Flat Irons in Chautaqua Park. Miles of trails meander up through the mountains from their home. They share the park with fox, mule deer, bears, and the occasional mountain lion. We've encountered the former two on some trail runs. The fox are especially friendly...and suspiciously round and sleek looking.
Seeing Ty again and visiting Adley and Gaelan has felt like coming home. We've been playing music, telling stories, cooking. They taught us a killer card game, progressive rummy, a tradition with Gaelan's family. Adley and I tried to make Ty a birthday cake, but it didn't quite turn out as planned. Despite Moosewood's best intentions, nothing beats loads of butter and sugar; baking at elevation's also a little new to us Midwestern girls.
I send love to you all,
Rose
Monday, March 26, 2007
On Snow
Ty here again, still in Gunnison, Colorado, posting some lovely photos taken by my friend Nick Meyer on a recent ski tour. Our friends Kevin and Molly Grove (from Bend, OR) flew in on Friday night and we have been skiing up a storm ever since. Molly and Kevin are long time cardiovascular monsters, and Nick is a cardiovascular monster in training (CMIT?), so I have been having a heck of a time just keeping them in sight on the climbs.
The shots posted below were taken during Sunday's excursion up Mount Emmons, a handsome peak which towers directly above the small resort town of Crested Butte. We skied the big bowl (Red Lady) that is clearly visible from town, and then climbed back up and dropped off the back down some really nice north-facing shots into Redwell basin. It has been really warm here this spring and the snow is going fast, which has turned some of the approaches into muddy walks, but there is still plenty of good skiing to be had. There is so much impressive ski terrain in this area!
This weekend, Kevin and Nick are competing in the Grand Traverse, a wild backcountry ski race from Crested Butte to Aspen, a distance of over 40 miles. The race starts on Friday night at midnight - madness! They are praying for some cooler weather so they can breeze over a firm crust instead of slogging through rotten mush. So think of them as you settle into your comfortable bed on Friday night...
Anyhow, check out this web album for a few more of Nick's great photos of our day on Mt. Emmons:
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| Crested Butte Skiing |
Friday, March 23, 2007
Childish Things...
Ty here again. After a few days climbing up in the Front Range, I am now in Gunnison, CO staying with my friend Nick Meyer. Anyhow, I just happened to look in a mirror this morning and was shocked at what I saw. It appears that the longer I am on the road, the more I start to look like James McMurtry. Anyhow, I snapped a photo to record my metamorphosis (before I become totally unrecognizable) - as you can see, the resemblance is already pretty scary. Rose probably won't even recognize me in the airport next week.Ty Mack
PS: For anyone drawing a blank, James McMurtry is an alt-country singer/songwriter from Texas (son of author Larry McMurtry of Lonsome Dove fame). Anyhow, you really ought to give him a listen, and go catch a concert of his if you get the chance - he has written some truly amazing songs and is a damn fine performer. Link to his website: www.jamesmcmurtry.com
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
And
And speaking of a certain small state in New England, greetings from Vermont, my home for another 12 days, 6 hours, and 45 minutes (not that I'm counting). It continues to be winter here, despite the calendar's insistence that Spring's come; but with the foot and 1/2 of powder we got last weekend I had one last chance to ski out here with Rebekah and enjoyed an abandoned mountain on Saturday, thanks to St. Patrick (and his miraculous serpentine sophistry).
A few of my adventures these past few weeks have been musical in nature, getting ready for a show next weekend. And now for a plug, if you happen to be in Burlington on Sat., March 31st, David Rynhart, Joe Shine, Patrick (whose last name I don't recall) and I, will be playing at the Blue Star. And David's written and arranged a couple of the songs we're doing.
So, don't keep your love so confidential and please let your heart be more influential. Taking that advice, I'm going to return to my shell and continue hibernating until I get to see Ty again.
Rose
I've also spent some quality time these last few weeks making great new discoveries courtesy of Pandora and my office mate's tolerance for bluegrass, folk, and hip hop. I encourage you all to check out Zap Mama's "Ancestry in Progress" if you like the latter. Check out Dan Reeder's "After Death Update," and Neko Case's "Blacklisted" if you go for the former.
So, don't keep your love so confidential and please let your heart be more influential. Taking that advice, I'm going to return to my shell and continue hibernating until I get to see Ty again.
Rose
Monday, March 19, 2007
Slideshow
Ty here again. I just spent some time putting together a slide show for an fundraising event for the Jim Ratz Memorial Scholarship Fund, which allows two local kids the chance to climb the Grand Teton with Jackson Hole Mountain Guides. Jim Ratz, who died in May 2006, was the former executive director of NOLS, the President of Jackson Hole Mountain Guides, and a good friend to so many of us in Lander and beyond. The scholarship is organized by and awarded as part of the International Climbers Festival, a great event which is entering its 14th year (July 11-15, 2007 - mark your calendars).Anyhow, I put together a slide show for entertainment at the event, which included a fabulous Indian meal cooked by Marcia Sungia (a legendary Lander chef). I digitized a bunch of my old slides (first a blog, then a digital slide show... what is next - a network television show?), so I thought that I would post a few of them here for folks to see. The show was structured to give viewers some ideas of places to visit (and even climb), and may have even featured some cowboy poetry. Unfortunately, cowboy poetry is a performance art and can't really be done justice in print, so I can't post the poem here. Plus, it may have been just a little disparaging of a certain small state in New England (but in a friendly, tongue-in-cheek sort of way of course) and I don't want to get my friends back that direction all riled up.
Anyhow, enjoy the photos. I am heading down to Colorado tomorrow to do some climbing and skiing, visit friends, and anxiously await Rose's arrival in Denver on the 3rd of April. Gotta start having some adventures so this blog doesn't bore everyone silly.
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| Slide Show |
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
One for the river rats...
Warning: This following essential mass message will probably not very entertaining for most folks, as it is targeted at river rats, that strange breed who shuffle around the halls of Building 10N muttering about attenuation assets, ecosystem services, and pre-disaster mitigation. But if you are a river rat, or have an exceptionally high tolerance for fluvial geomorphic jargon, then forge ahead.
Anyhow, even though I am no longer getting paid to look at and think about mistreated rivers, I seem to be having trouble staying away from them. I was on a rock climbing trip the other week (to Indian Creek, the purest crack climbing in the world) and became acquainted with a small desert stream named Cottonwood Creek. This stream, which is located in Beef Basin near the entrance to the Needles District of Canyonlands National Park, is such a fine example of how a small dam can disrupt bedload transport and lead to dramatic bed degradation and tributary rejuvenation, that I couldn't help but snap a few photos. The following photo album illustrates the situation pretty well:
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Upstream of the small dam, which can (barely) be seen near center of the first photo, Cottonwood Creek is slightly incised, but not enough to make the tributaries unravel. The dam has been trapping virtually all the bedload carried by Cottonwood Creek. Given how much fine sediment is stored just upstream of the dam, it probably used to create a large pool that allowed quite a bit of the suspended sediment load to settle out also. Downstream of the dam, a small diversion structure spanning the entire width of the channel, all hell is breaking loose. The channel is incised over 20' in places, and all its small, ephemeral tributaries are rejuvenating and carving deep gullies.
Sure is easy to see what is going on without all the damn trees. Anyhow, best wishes to all the folks back in the River Management Program in Vermont - keep fighting the good fight!
Ty Mack
Monday, March 12, 2007
Important Terminology Change
Ty here again. Anyhow, I talked to Rose this afternoon - she said the layout and such are fine - however, she doesn't like the term "blog" (or its variants - blogger, blogging, and yes, even blogosphere). After giving it some thought, I am in full agreement. The term "blog" oozes like a dank, stagnant, mosquito-infested puddle, good for nothing but breeding disease (nothing except for sediment and nutrient retention, flood storage, wildlife habitat, water purification, groundwater recharge...). And "blogging" smacks of violence, sounding like something that there is no use doing to a dead horse.
As far as alternative terms, Rose suggested something with more E's and S's, so I am proposing the following: "Essential Mass Message" It has a nice ring, and a total e+s count of 10. The variants are as follows: essential mass messenger, essential mass messaging, and sphere of essential mass messages (14 e's and s's in that last one!).
Cautionary Note: Care should be taken that this term is not confused with its near-homophone, the "sensual musk massage". Frankly I'm not quite even sure what this entails, and would recommend contacting Dan Savage at the Onion A.V. Club for details before even thinking about trying it.
As a reformed government employee and scientist, I am going to try my hardest to keep from reducing this fine term to a pathetic acronym like "EMM" and I would appreciate it if everyone else would do the same.
Hopefully we can get all the patents and copyrights locked up in the next few weeks, please try not to use this term too widely until we give the official go-ahead.
Thanks for your understanding as we make this important transition,
Ty Mack
As far as alternative terms, Rose suggested something with more E's and S's, so I am proposing the following: "Essential Mass Message" It has a nice ring, and a total e+s count of 10. The variants are as follows: essential mass messenger, essential mass messaging, and sphere of essential mass messages (14 e's and s's in that last one!).
Cautionary Note: Care should be taken that this term is not confused with its near-homophone, the "sensual musk massage". Frankly I'm not quite even sure what this entails, and would recommend contacting Dan Savage at the Onion A.V. Club for details before even thinking about trying it.
As a reformed government employee and scientist, I am going to try my hardest to keep from reducing this fine term to a pathetic acronym like "EMM" and I would appreciate it if everyone else would do the same.
Hopefully we can get all the patents and copyrights locked up in the next few weeks, please try not to use this term too widely until we give the official go-ahead.
Thanks for your understanding as we make this important transition,
Ty Mack
Indian Creek
Ty here, with the inagural post on our entry into the blogosphere. A large and painful step for a couple of luddites, so we'll see h0w it works. Rose is still out in VT (until April 3 - only three more weeks!), so I am all by my lonesome, out in the lonesome wide open spaces of the West. I've been keeping myself occupied by trying to fire myself into some sort of climbing shape, hanging out in Lander trying to catch up with friends, and preparing for the travels ahead.
Anyhow, just got back from a quick trip to Indian Creek in S. Utah with my friend Kirk. We had a fabulous time - great weather and splitter cracks in one of the most magical places on earth. We spent a day each at Way Rambo Wall and Pistol Whipped, and then spent our last morning getting beat up by an offwidth at Battle of the Bulge called "Big Baby" Check out the following photo album:
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| Indian Creek 1 |
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