Job Description

Responsibilities:The Antenna Rigger assists in the development, installation and maintenance of all guyed towers, freestanding towers and antenna support structures in the USAP (United States Antarctic Program). Installs and performs maintenance on various solar and wind-turbine power generation sites throughout the Antarctic continent.

Additional Responsibilities Include:
- Installs and maintains USAP HF, UHF/VHF, microwave & satellite antenna systems
- Installs and maintains solar and wind-turbine power generation systems
- Installs and maintains antenna radomes
- Develops and fabricates systems for securely installing antennae and other tower-mounted hardware
- Designs and installs technical rigging and rope-access systems
- Performs annual inspections and maintenance on antenna systems at USAP facilities: Palmer, South Pole, McMurdo, and deep field sites
- Maintains inventory and assists with re-supply
- Ensures that work areas meet all RPSC and USAP safety standards
- Frequently climbs towers up to 150' feet in height to perform all normal rigging duties as required
- Frequently lifts 40 pounds

Putting together my tool kit:

Back on the Ice!

Ice!
More ice ! I love imagining Amundsen and Shackleton down here navigating their ships!

Pack ice! We're getting closer...

After a week of travel and trainings, I find myself back in McMurdo Station! Two and half days in Denver for OSHA trainings and general program orientation, a few hours in L.A. with brother Will at a funny comedy club, 13hours 10 minutes in an airplane flying over the Pacific, a day in a half in New Zealand for training and marveling at the most beautiful trees I have ever seen (Christchurch's Botanical Gardens) followed by this morning's 5 hour flight south and I am here.

It is wonderful to be back. Four years seem like nothing and I feel ready to pick up where I left off. Rumor has it, by joining the Antenna Rigger crew, I have one of the best jobs on the station, perhaps only second to helicopter pilot. I am in a small double room in building 210, though strangly there is noone else in the room right now. I thought I'd get put with at least one roomate! Probably tomorrow, someone will show up. I also have a window, which opens! That might take some getting used to, but I'm excited to have a little more space to play with this season.

I've met my team, they seem excellent, I think we're going to have a lot of fun while working hard. I'm scheduled to head out to Byrd field camp sometime in the next week or so. More to come soon!

The Admiral Is Put Down

My aunt Lolly has been a horse vet for as long as I can remember. I had heard of her "putting down" people's horses for them, had heard of the owner's agonizing decision and even had seen some of our family cats and dogs be put down - slowly falling into the eternal sleep as we pet them, comforted them and cried together in a tight circle. Despite Lol's explanation of what was to come concerning Admiral's fate, I was in no way prepared (there was no way I could be) to see our horse named Admiral, who we think of as our brother, be put down.

Over a month has passed since the day on Cloudberry Farm and I have since been exploring the mountains of Wyoming and the canyons of Utah as an instructor for the National Outdoor Leadership School. I have had to set the memory aside from my brain, as it was too painful and distracting to me, but realizing that perhaps writing about it might help the continuing processing that is necessary when seeing a "brother" lose his life. So now as the students are enjoying a day of "solo" I sit on a rock and write in the Utah sun next to the Dirty Devil River.

He had lived with us for about 22 years of my 31. We love our animals, especially when they love us, and as such, Adi became a brother. His first decade of life, so I am told, was not a happy one. He lived in a stable, only turned out for this and that, and was an unhappy and "crazy" horse. Then somehow he ended up with us with three different fields to roam, competing in 3-day events and living next to his various horsy friends in our neighbor Deb's field.

I never took to riding nor do I know an extensive amount of information on horses. I know which side to be on before getting on a horse, I know how to talk to one, and I know how to look where I want to go and the horse will feel it. I don't know what kind of horse Adi is, though I should, or how many hands he is, I just know he is big, strong, and black with a white stripe down his nose (sorry if my terminology is off - I'm sure there is a name for "stripe down the nose" but I am in the canyons of Utah writing in my journal to be typed later.)

Adi was the Admiral, the lasting brother, older than the dogs, always there to greet us, even when the dogs were not. Though he could not wag his tail or run to the open car door upon our return, he was there with a look or a walk to the fence edge ever hoping we would walk over to say hello or goodnight. They were not usually long conversations, though sometimes he or I would linger at the fence.

And so it was that Adi was getting older. He was retired from eventing and spent a summer in Maine with other horses before returning to the farm in the fall. One of his eyes, he could not well see through and this winter, perhaps because he could not see well our of his right eye, struck his left eye with a branch of some sort. Painful and swollen the eye became and despite the unending care of my mother and her sister, the vet, it refused to get better. Adi was going blind, was in pain and Mom and Lol decided it was time for him to be put down, before he was in more pain.

Rationally, I can understand how someone can make such a decision. But when it came to the irrationality of actually ending a life, albeit peacefully and in great care and expertise, it was something that I am still trying to wrap my head around.

I believe the date was set half a week in advance. Adi's time to die was to be Monday, February 15th, 2010. The execution date was set. And herein it begins. Mom and Lol were sure of their decision. I was left to trust their wisdom in the matter and deal with it whatever way I was able. His execution date set, I wanted to visit with him frequently. He was bothered by the eye, I could tell, but I still enjoyed my visits. Questions raged inside my head, "Does he know?" and "Is it fair that he does not know, if he does not?"

Leading up to the scheduled day and time I had flashes of being about to graduate from high school. Excitedly I though, "This is the last time in English class! This is the last time in History class!" But now I was thinking, "Does he know this is the last time he will be put in for the night? Does he know this is his last night! Does he know he has less than a day alive on this planet with us?" His last days were filled with my questions. They were hard to answer and to even ponder but were nothing compared to saying goodbye to him for the last time.

At very last, the scheduled date and approximate time was upon us. Mom said she was getting to get Adi. At this point, events began to proceed faster than I could keep up with.

I walked with Mom down to the barn. This itself is a sacred task happening thousands and thousands of times over the many years, in all seasons, in all weather. But this was the last. We walked down together, burdened with the weight of the matter and task at hand. Mom went into the barn to get a bridle and rope as I opened the fence, knowing it would not need to be closed again. Adi was there. Standing in the middle of our front field - facing me as I walked out to him. Did he know his time had come? There was nothing I could do. Was this really happening? I spoke to him as Mom emerged from the barn and walked our way, savoring our last communion together. Mom arrived, speaking softly and gently to her Adi, as I pet him and Deb voiced her heartfelt condolences to us from over the fence.

And then we walked him to the barn, leaving the front field for the last time. So many times into the field and then called in before the end of the day. And now his last return...like the President being helicoptered away from the White House. Into the barn he went and into his stall.

At this point my sister, Farley, for whom Adi was bought, was there and Lol had arrived with her tools and supplies. As we stood there on the winter day in our coats Lol gratefully explained what I was to experience, having never seen a horse be put down. She said it is far more dramatic than putting down a cat or dog, that one cannot have a horse lie down before giving the injection, and that we have to remain clear of the horse because there is no telling which direction or how he will go down.

And so already with tears in my eyes I tried to prepare myself as events continued beyond my control of life understanding. A small injection was given to Adi in the neck so that a catheter could be put in his neck thus allowing the drugs to be administered to go directly into a vein. We watched as Lol skillfully put the catheter in. And then it was time for Adi to leave us. In his last fully conscious moments we said our goodbye, and gave him our pats. Lol then gave him the first of two doses of mild sedatives. This was to calm him so he wouldn't be confused or apprehensive of the coming events. It was then time to walk him out to the burial site.

All morning, Dad had nursed a burn pile on the spot where Adi was to be buried in an effort to thaw the winter ground enough so a back hoe could come in and dig a grave after Adi's life had ebbed away.

And so Mom led Adi out of the barn, for the last time. It was as though Adi knew what was coming - trusting Mom and Lol, just as I did, whether he understood them or not, he trusted them. He had for years.

He walked out, doing their will, again as he had for year, with wobbly legs and his head down, not knowing just trusting those who loved him and those he no doubt loved.

He was led to the spot next to where the fire had been by then burned down to ashes. The spot for him, the earth softened and selected to hold his bones and flesh when they were no longer living, before the day was out. Again I asked in my head, "Does he know?"

Lol gave him another dose of the sedatives, to calm him further in his last moments of life. We again circled him with pats and soft words knowing we could not hold onto the moment forever. We stepped away, my arm around my sister, Mom saying her final silent words and then she too stepped back. Lol stepped in, and though it all must have been hard for her too, she was business as she had to be. She told Mom she was ready and Mom said, "Anytime." Now with my mother under my left arm and my sister under my right, Lol gave Adi he injection of the barbiturates - an overdose that would quickly stop his heart. We watched and I wondered, the seconds last a long time. Adi put this head down, uttered a long and low sigh vibrating his lips as horses do. It was as though he was saying thank you, though he was saying goodbye, though he was releasing everything he had lived in his 30 or so years for us. As though his soul was escaping, though he didn't know what was happening, but he know to trust us and he knew it was time for his soul to move on. He was giving us everything he had for us to hold on to what we could.

And then he went down. And he was gone. The strong black body that lay before us was lifeless. The animal we had known for so long was there before us but the soul was already gone. His tongue hung out of his mouth. It was not the quite sleep from a smaller animal. It was fast, because it had to be, but I was not ready to see a brother lose the life within him, even though he trusted us so. Not ready to see the fall to the ground with death. Not ready to say goodbye to our friend and our family member.

I cried hard in my sister's embrace, not wanting to hold back the emotion I felt so raw. I was not the rider, was not his caretaker but I was a sibling and it is not easy to see one go.

I wonder what his thought were, I wonder what he would have said to us. The overriding feeling I get is trust. And somehow that makes it harder, makes me miss him more. He trusted us with his life....and his death. Yes, he is just a horse, but he was one of us for 22 years. We both lived most our lives at Cloudberry Farm, sharing the outside fields and trees and sky. Our separate lives intertwined in the casual greetings of the day or night.

Far had to leave to pick up her son at school while Mom, Lol, Uncle Tots and I, stood by our friend Adi. Lol cleaned up Adi's eye, taking out the stitches and treatment tube that was used to treat his wound and then braided a section of his tail for Far as if he was being readied for one last show. She cut the small braid off and then did one for me and my brothers, should they want one.

The backhoe came, began to dig and I said my last good bye to Adi's body, wishing I din't have to. It was time to leave as I did not want to see the horse moved into the gave by a backhoe. I walked back to the house, though Adi's fields, not knowing if they shall ever be another's. Mom and Dad plan to move soon, the fate of our home unknown. It was the end of an era.

Later that day, Lol said she placed Adi in a good position in his grave. Imagining the dirt slowly covering him up just adds to the pain of his being gone. I told Lol I was grateful for her kind explanation of what it would be like, doing everything she could to help us through the process. And in thanking her, the tears flowed freely again, as they have in writing this.

I talked about it with Mom and Dad and Far but I knew it had a way to go inside my head. It was just hard to explain all the questions I had - what it was like for Adi. I guess I am happy I felt he trusted us, I am happy Mom and Lol cared so much for him, am happy he had such a good life with us. But I am sad he is gone. And he is missed greatly. Driving in the driveway is lonely now, no matter hew many people are home as Adi was always the first to greet us. The transition from the road to know we were home.

The Admiral is gone, Lord of the Barnyard. Thank you for everything. We love you. Life is life and family is family. Live it like you mean it and don't waste the days.

Corwith Cramer C-226C, Part 2

6 FEB: Each day students are assigned to the deck or to the lab (or to help with dishes). Of course, science deployments occur throughout each day. Always a neuston tow at noon and at midnight. My focus, though, has always been the deck. As a student in the lab, I remember being in the lab when the call came from deck that hands were needed. I remember turning my head toward the hatch, feeling like a dog, who has just realized his owner is putting on his running shoes. I will always love sail handling, plotting our course, and navigating with with celestial bodies.

Dawn watch in the lab this morning, but I was free to do as I pleased as students were working on their science presentations and my services as a sign language interpreter were not needed. I spent the whole four hours organizing my celestial navigation progressions and outlines and getting ready for the approaching morning nautical twilight (when the sun is 12 degrees below the horizon). This is a time when it is light enough to see the horizon, but still dark enough to see the bright navigational stars. When the twilight came, just before turning over to C watch for the morning watch, I got angles of Vega, Mars and the moon. It will forever amaze me that one can figure out one's position from three celestial bodies!

8 FEB: Spent the afternoon on Garden Key exploring Fort Jefferson, interpreting classes on the history and natural history of the Civil War era fort. We all went snorkeling after class, though it was "worse than pole." "Pole" was our first real Crazy Horse snorkeling endeavor and therefore our reference: it had clear water, but nothing to look at except sea grass, tiny lobsters and a pole in the water. Needless to say it was good to stretch the legs on the island and give the arms a bit of exercise with some butterfly strokes in the ocean.

9 FEB: Underway again. Dawn watch again this morning. Got my celestial sights (this morning from Vega, Altair, Antares and the crescent moon.)in and worked out what is really required to get the latitude and longitude from the heavens:

1 instrument error measured

3 angles measured

3 times recorded and converted to universal time

27 tabes entered to get 36 numbers

30 arithmetic exercises

9 lines drawn on a plotting sheet

7 latitude or longitude distance measurements

Naturally, it is quite satisfying to have a position that is within a mile of the actual position when checked with the GPS!

A cold front came through during the evening watch when we had the deck. The winds had been light and variable but we knew from the VHF radio that the front was going to hit very soon. It took all of a few minutes for the winds to jump to over 30 knots. We were out on the bowsprit furling the jib in the darkness as it really hit and the rain started to fall, first as a few little drops, and then a downpour the clear sky above us was overcome by a cover of clouds as though someone was pulling them over us like a blanket. It was quite exciting to be out on the bowsprit, with a job to do, in the strong wind and rain. I could hear the students' nervous excitement in their voices as we got the jib in nice and tidy-like. Afterwards, one of the students said, "That felt like war!" For students who have never been out to sea before, it is pretty intense to be suspended on a net above the black ocean, that with each wave threatens to reach up and soak them, furling a sail in the darkness by feel and cooperation as the temperature drops suddenly. Everyone was very focused and as I unclipped from the bowsprits safety wire with my windward side soaking wet, I was very happy. I love moments like that. And the students will never forget it.

10 FEB: Back at Key West. Our watch brought the ship in under 30 knots. Overall, it was a wonderful sail and interpreting on a sailboat for a wonderful student, named Shanna, was really a great experience. I was assigned to wherever she was assigned and was there to interpret the deck lectures and wherever else I could help with the communication - on deck at night wearing a red headlight to illuminate my face and hands, while trying disturb anyone's night vision. It was great that I was very familiar with the Cramer and how the ship is run. I certainly have a long way to go in terms of my interpreting skills and I was grateful for Shanna's patience, positive attitude and good natured feedback. I was also grateful when, after I misspelled "chlorophyll" and "phytoplankton" for the millionth tim, she was not annoyed but said it was, "endearing." She certainly taught me a lot. And hopefully she learned a little bit from me and the rest of the crew of the Cramer.

12 FEB: Back at Mystic now. Finally here and in bed by 0300 and though I wanted to sleep a long normal length sleep, I was awake at 0715. Oh well, lots to do. I certainly miss my bunk though. Like a little cave of wondrous sleep. It is strange to walk through the hall of the Mystic staff house without leaning first towards one wall and then towards the other in coordination with the ships rolls back and forth as she cuts through the water. There is always a satisfaction when that skill comes back. To walk through a passage way in complete balance in a heavy sea...Already I miss the sense of accomplishment that comes with one day out at sea. And of course I always miss the team, and being part of a crew on a mission. It's what I live for.

Soon to head home and get ready for the NOLS semester course which I will start briefing for in about a week. Just found out I'll be working the first section (back country skiing) with Rob Lloyd of Crazy Horse and now Fishers Hornpipe lore! Needless to say our students are going to have fun as we cavort around the backcountry together.

I will miss these Williams-Mystic students and faculty, who have become my shipmates. They are wonderful and they are lucky to be in such a wonderful program. To finish with a quote, from Oliver Wendell Holmes that I have had in the front cover of my journal since the summer sailing Downeast with Outward Bound:

"I find the greatest thing in the world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving. To reach the p[rot of heaven, we must sail sometimes with the wind, and sometimes against it, but we sail, and not drift, nor live at anchor."

Corwith Cramer C-226C, Part 1

1 FEB: On the Cramer again. It is wonderful to be a sailor again. We spent the morning and afternoon with orientation and trainings: fire, man-overboard, and abandon-ship drills were carried out and the students were broken in into 3 "watches." My watch was B-watch and our jobs for the drills was sail handling - passing, striking or whatever sail handling was needed in the emergency.

The smells of the ship immediately took me back to my experience as a deckhand on the Cramer (3 weeks in the summer of '02 sailing off the coast of New England) and then before that as a student on the Cramer's sister ship, Westward during the fall of '99 sailing from Woods Hole, MA to St. Croix). The memories connected with the smells are amazing. The scent of the galley, the engine room, the heads and the labs - they are overwhelming and memories come flooding back.

After sailing aboard Crazy Horse and learning a lot about electronics and batteries and engines, Cramer's engine room was a fantastic place. I spent a lot of time with usty, the engineer, who head also been my engineer 10 years ago. Now 10 years later, I could ask intelligent questions and discuss the amperage, voltage, wattage and other operational details of the systems on board. Needless to say, I was fascinated by it and now hope to someday soon work as an Assistant Engineer on SEA's other boat, the Robert C. Seamans.

3 FEB: Getting my sea legs under me as students struggle to find theirs in this alien environment. There have been many "donations to Neptune," the God of the sea, as the students lose their lunches...dinners...and breakfasts...over the side in painful resignation. I felt a bit "lumpy," as we said on Crazy Horse, for a few days and on account of being in the choppy Gulf Stream waters, as we made our way west towards the Dry Tortugas. For lunch we had delicious burritos and I had felt better than ever. But soon, the feeling changed and I was on the lee rail looking at the water in a state of a bit of miserywondering which of the next handful of seconds, my stomach was going to tighten like it can in no other way and my lunch was going to be launched out of my body and into the turbulent waters below. This, accompanied with the humility that comes with making donations to Neptune, makes for a demorilizing ordeal.

I dry heaved twice and amazingly that was it - very thankful to not have donated. I felt spared - as if Neptune was quietly saying, "I could have gotten you if I really wanted to..." No one ever beats the sea, beats Neptune...that's what I love about it. People think they can conquer the mountains, but noone thinks they can conquer the sea. It's power is just too great. And therefore it is amazing sense to be in harmony with it, especially because it often doesn't seem to last too long. And oh, the feeling of crawling into my bunk (top bunk, all the way aft on the starboard side)...relief like no other kind.

5 FEB: Three watches rotate in 5 shifts throughout the day, so over the course of three days, each watch has stood all shifts of the day. Dawn watch 0300-0700 gets the sunrise but also has "dawn clean-up," a not so fun daily clean of the ship's below decks. The there is morning watch 0700-1300. One of two long watches (6 hours, while the others three are 4 hours), this watch is a good chunk of time where we are all used to being awake and at work. 1300-1900 is the afternoon watch which includes the distraction of having an hour or two of reports of engineering, weather, navigation and science completed during the last 24 hours, and this is followed by a class on the literature of the sea, a topic of nautical science or oceanography.

The evening watch, 1900-2300 is a pleasant one and usually involves the fun of sailing into the darkness. And of course, there is mid-watch, 2300-0300, which typically involves the infamous galley clean up, though sometimes it is now done by the evening watch these days. It is not to best job especially if tired and on a rolling sea.

Lots of sail handling today. Always a good activity and always makes the deck watch fly by. Started the day with 30 knots of wind!

Here is what meal time looks like below. Do not let the table hit your knees or things will slide what seems to be uphill! The second video is of A watch, who has just taken the deck for night watch. (The lights on the mast - red over green - mean we are a vessel currently under sail power.)

Spaceships, Sailing Vessels and Mystic Seaport

Out west I went last November to do a training course with the Wilderness Medical Institute of NOLS and teach a NOLS backcountry ski section of a semester course. I passed the very rigorous medical training and then headed into the backcountry with only about 50 cm of snow. It was not ideal skiing conditions (or even traveling conditions) considering we had to put our skis on our sleds. But we had fun and played in the backcountry and I quite enjoyed when the temperatures plummeted to -26 degrees C. It was a wonderful feeling to feel as though I was back on the Ice again!

But now gears have been changed, for just a short bit. I am in Mystic, Connecticut working as a sign language interpreter for a Deaf college-student attending the excellent Williams-Mystic semester program. It's my first real job as an interpreter and after a two hour session of interpreting, I'm amazed that I'm a real paid-interpreter (if not yet certified). I've had lots of help and feedback from my partner in crime, and I'm learning a lot. (The students are all hopefully becoming State Radio fans with their new CDs.)

This week is the first week of the program and it has been preparing the students for the 11 days we are about to spend in the Florida Straits on S.E.A.'s Corwith Cramer (a ship I worked on as a deck hand in 2002.) It'll be quite fun to be on the ship again, sextant in hand, doing everything is sign language! I plan to enjoy it as much as I enjoyed Space Camp during Deaf Week a few years ago! Similarly, I plan to enjoy the experience and get more out of it than any of the current students, but that I'm used to. No doubt, some of their lives will be changed, as mine was when I sailed on the Westward in 1999. They are in for a trip, and I am excited to see them go through the process.

To follow our progress go to the Williams-Mystic website: http://www.williams.edu/williamsmystic/expeditions/offshore.html

We'll be offshore from Feb. 1 - 11.

I have been in a very excited state of vehicle bliss. I'm surrounded by cool sailing ships, recently spent a number of days doing some electrical work on Rob Lloyd's new boat (www.fishershornpipesail.blogspot.com) and then listened to a lecture on the similarities of aircraft and vessels of the sea. Then I spent yesterday's down time on the Nautilus nuclear submarine built in the 1950's. Needless to say, submarines likeness to spaceships, make me love them - except the missile and war part of the things. Since I don't ever plan on joining the services, I'll just have to get my very own vessel someday to pretend I'm on a spaceship. The sailboat will be named Apollo 8 (the first human voyage to another celestial being - the moon) so that when someone calls me on the radio, I can feel like I'm in space! Someday...soon!

Some pics from Rob's boat:

The old wiring set up.

Part-way finsished.

Upstream and downstream complete! Doing the wiring on a boat is something that soothes my soul. Such order in the chaos! I don't really understand it but I love making the connections that will help make this boat operate again. It's like connecting the nerves on Frankenstein. We're slowly bringing this ship back to life. And of course, I feel like I'm on a space station...

After the 11 day sail, I'll head back west to work a NOLS semester course out of the Rocky Mountain branch where I'll be instructing all sections: Wilderness First Aid, skiing, canyoneering, rock climbing and river kayaking/rafting over 87 days! I even get to work the last section with two of my cousins!!!!

That's as far as I know! The rest has yet to come but floating out there are another season of Deaf soccer, another airplane voyage, and more work in Antarctica! Also trying to find a good light weight HAM radio so that Dad and I can get back on the air - perhaps in Morse Code as "CW" takes less power which is paramount if I'm going to be carrying the thing. Life is good! And I hope it is with you as well!

Departures

And once again I find myself outward bound. The room has been cleaned, my coaches locker cleaned out at school, and everything cleaned up, with as many loose ends tied as possible. Savoring the moments in the comfort of my home, I strike out again for another task. This one for a Instructor Training Course with the Wilderness Medical Institute of NOLS. New people, a new place, new challenges and uncertainty. It is hard to leave the family and the friends. It is hard to leave the community that speaks with their hands. It is all challenging, and can be stressful, but it brings new life and excitement of which I live for.

All to0 quickly I am across the country. Strange to think that it would take 5 days to drive here but I can close my eyes, and suddenly I am here in a matter of mere hours. Commercial air travel is something I never get used to. Just north of Seattle for the night, then a 19 hour drive to Lander, Wyoming. My truck, Timmy, has been waiting for me here, and it was wonderful to see him again. I greeted him like I would one of our dogs. Timmy and I have been through a lot together. Reliable and always ready! The adventure continues.

Downeast Maine!

A 28-day sailing course taking me my co-instructor 100 miles "downeast" almost to the Canadian border! I'd done the legs of the journey to and from fabled Cross Island but never the round trip, and never as Captain of the ship. So finally after too many years of putting it off, I got the course!

The course was wonderful. 300 miles were made over the course of 28 days. It was wonderful to be back in a pulling boat and really go on an expedition. No circles, no futsing around, just getting ourselves through the fog and rain and wind to Cross Island and then back.

My partner in crime: Dr. Ice (aka D. Rice)

Mistake Island!

The view from Cross Island: an array of 26 radio towers used to communicate with underwater submarines. Fascinating!

Waddington Mountaineering in B.C.

Here we are in the Waddington Range! Excuse the out of orderness of the pics and writings. The task of updating everything is a bit overwhelming and some things are working and some are not.

We had to move through days of this stuff.

Slide alder...a cherished sight. Yeah, right. Better than devil's club perhaps...

The Jenga!
Mother Teresa is a wicked mountaineer!

The Waddington Range of British Columbia...in all it's splendor, we did see for 30 days in June and July. The quick story is we had a student go anaphalactic on the first night because of eating a sandwhich with buckwheat in the bread - she went to the hospital and rejoined the course late that night. It was an interesting way to start the course...waiting in a Canadian Provincial Park, a bit out of the way, for half an hour for an ambulance to come, hoping the student's airway did not swell shut. (She had already given herself a shot of epinephrine and Benedryl doesn't work for her.)

The bushwacking began: 3 days of moving 1/3 of a mile for each arduous hour. We sweated our way only 3 miles for 9 hours of toil. I would be in the lead sometimes wondering how these students are following me, and not knowing how I was going to get through what we called "the jenga" - a lincoln log array of fallen pine trees that had succumbed to the pine beetle infestation.

But eventually we made it to the snow and alpine territory, and it was beautiful. We climbed some wonderful peaks and had long days of glaciated mountain travel. It was fantastic to be back in the same mountain range that I'd been on two years ago, some new territory, and some old.

We had many crevasse punch throughs, but thankfully no one went through more than up to their waist. There were some exciting times though, and some HUGE, GAPING crevasses that we crossed on relatively small snow bridges. That's all for now. Hopefully the pics will tell some of the rest of the story.

The above picture is from climbing Jubilee Peak. We awoke early and as we made our way up the peak, the sun rose EXACTLY between the two peaks of Mt. Waddington. It was an amazing sight. Many things had to align for that to work out!

To the Waddington

Students come in the morning, the endless list are getting smaller and smaller and transitioning to field lists of things to do. Generally much more enjoyable than the precourse lists such as: Pull and check: fuel bottles, library, tents, stoves, ropes, rock climbing gear, ice screws, snow pro, and on and on...decide how much food to take, look at the students medicals, the route, pull the maps,...The whole process reminds me of high school musicals. A week to go, it always seemed like we were never going to be ready but we always were. And now we're ready, oddly enough. though there are many details to take care of after the students get here tomorrow morning at 7:20am. It'll be non-stop activity until 3:30 when we are scheduled to leave.

A day and a half of driving to the interior of B.C. then a week of heavy bushwacking and then days and days in the snow and in the mountains. We probably won't see anyone except Mike, who will resupply us via helicopter! We'll be out for a month and hopefully in the process make some mountaineers, as well as better communicators, leaders and environmentally conscious people. Generally, my aim is to make better people. i'll do my best. That's it for now! To Infinity and Beyond!

Update

Yes, it's been a while, except for the Mozambique post, but the trip to Mozambique was almost a year ago. Since then:
Soccer coaching of The Learning Center for the Deaf's Varsity Boys team,
A NOLS sailing course in Baja with co-instructor, and member of the Crazy Horse Team, Rob Lloyd. This trip involved much spear fishing and free diving - we caught about 300 lbs of fish during the month.
A few weeks with brother Will in Venice, CA riding the waves...
Then NOLS Avalanche Training followed by split snowboard training, followed by rock climbing training. Then some personal trips, a Crazy Horse reunion in Moab Utah, involving lots of desert golf (9 irons, tennis balls, and holes such as: "around that tree, off the rock and into the fire pit.")
Teaching a NOLS instructor course - quite fun to have some influence on a small group of instructors. Some will be working this summer - I feel like a father having taught my kids what they need to know, now they have to figure out the rest for themselves. Dealing with an empty nest now, but the nest is about to be refilled in a few days.

Briefing for a month long mountaineering course starts tomorrow. Two other instructors and I will be taking 12 students into the mountains of British Columbia in order to school them in the ways of mountaineering, leadership, and living in tune with the planet. (They'll also learn a bit about State Radio, Sign Language and moon rockets - but those things aren't on the NOLS curriculum...yet.)

Excuse the speedy catch up, but the prospect of writing everything was so daunting, it was not happening. Now I will try to stay up with things. I will try to get pics up later. Into the Waddington Range of B.C.!