September 26, 2005

palm springs in '05

file under: my life

my uncle boyd turned 75 this year. his partner ron threw a bug shindig in palm springs (where they live). elaine and i went to celebrate, along with about 327 of his other friends. it was a great time, all documented for posterity in a docrpm photo album that i'll call ryan, elaine, boyd, ron, and 327 of their closest friends.

Posted: 09.26.05 at 10:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

September 25, 2005

camp mather and yosemite

file under: my life , travel

elaine and i visited camp mather and yosemite back in August. our friends paul and julia had rented a cabin for themselves and their two girls, but still had extra space. they were kind enough to invite us along, and we accepted, not really knowing what to expect.

camp mather has a long history dating back to the construction of O'Shaughnessy Dam and Hetch Hetchy reservoir, where it was used as a sawmill and a place for interested tourists to stay during construction of the dam. today, it's used as a recreational park for residents of san francisco. they have a highly competitive lottery every year for spots at the camp, and apparently it's always packed. well, it certainly was when we were there.

what follows are some of the highlights of the trip. of course, i documented nearly everything in a photo journal of camp mather and yosemite.

...

hetch hetchy and wapama falls
i'd known for some time that hetch hetchy was the primary source of san francisco's water, but didn't know much past that. i had never bothered to even see exactly where it was (it's in the northwestern part of yosemite).

it is a truly spectacular sight. of course, it should be—when the reservoir was created, it submerged an entire valley that was supposedly prettier than yosemite valley (25 miles to the south).
the dam itself is no Hoover, by any means, but it's still pretty grand. you can drive all the way up and walk out on top; look east and you see hetch hetchy reservoir stretching into the distance; look west, and you see the valley carved by the waterfall that used to be there.

Hetchy Hetchy Valley and Kolana Rock prior to being flooded

i took a total of three trips up to Hetch Hetchy while at camp mather; it's only 8 miles away, after all.

the first trip, elaine and i went up with paul and did some stargazing on the dam at night (faciltiated by camp mather; the park is normally closed at night). one highlight was the bear we saw on the road on the way up. the bats were out in force once it got dark, which meant no mosquitoes, and the stars were bright. it was a great evening.

our second trip was for a hike that elaine and i took to wapama falls (~6 miles total). it's an easy hike along hetch hetchy that provides spectacular views or kolana rock and the falls. based on behavior we saw on our way in and out i would, however, like to make a few observations:

1. no swmming in the reservoir also means no swimming in the waterfalls that feed the reservoir. i saw a whole family disrobe and jump right in, just like it was the swimmin' hole back on the farm (or something).


2. guys, don't let your girlfriends take the hike in cute little sandals (no matter how well they coordinate with the rest of her outfit)


3. girls, don't listen to your boyfriends or spouses or resident male experts when they say "it's not that far – why are you wearing hiking boots and carrying water? you must think i'm a sissy or something."


4. dads, don't make your kids and/or wives carry gallon containers of water without backpacks; bad form, really...

the third trip was a day hike with john, paul, and their three girls, collectively. this was on the next–to–last day, and the ladies had gone off to do their own thing, leaving us with the kids. we figured this little excursion had the lowest probably of collective meltdown, with a good exit strategy. right on both counts: the girls loved the dam, and nobody melted down (except for a brief rampup to critical mass right before we left).

bridalveil falls
i hadn't been to bridalveil since i was a kid, so didn't really know what to expect. well, i can tell you at least one thing to expect: hordes. it was really pretty ridiculous how many people were there. it makes sense when you consider that you can park within 1/4 mile of the falls, and there is a paved, relatively flat path that leads right up to it. in a nutshell, beautiful, but jammed. the mist that sprays off the top of the falls pretty much makes up for it.

we went with paul, julia and kids, btw, expecting to continue for a short hike in the afternoon, but there was a meltdown at lunch, and they had to retreat back to camp. this is one thing we came to realize about having kids: you are not the master of your own destiny. you may think you are, but you're not. one second, everything is fine, and the next, there's screaming and shrieking and a black cloud of armageddon approaching.

we continued on to vernal falls...

vernal falls
this is a fantastic but strenuous hike. it's about 4 miles roundtrip, with perhaps a 1500 ft. vertical ascent to the falls. from that point, you can continue on to nevada falls and the john muir trail, or turn around and go back. the hike is a steep ascent along a dusty paved path; at some point, you reach a bridge that crosses the outlet from the falls, complete with bathrooms and drinking fountain. keep on heading up, and you'll eventually hit the mist trail, a beautiful section of the hike where you're showered with mist from the falls. odds are that at this point you'll be rewarded with not only a spectacular view of the falls, but also rainbows that bloom from the pond beneath. a last push up a steep set of stairs and a rock trail leads to the top of the falls. railings are provided so you can stand right next to the falls and look over the edge, along the mist trail and down the valley you just hiked up.

this trail was packed, too. jammed with people, many of whom were clearly not equipped for the hike. they were expecting a stroll along a nice little path, not a trudge up a 30 degree incline in the heat, followed by endless, steep stone stairs leading up to a narrow, rocky trail winding its way up to the falls. i heard one girl exclaim, "that was horrible!" as she trudged down the mountain. another girl coming down from the top had no shoes on (her sandals presumably didn't cut it; i saw them in her bag). i don't mind everyone and their uncle seeing the beauty of the great outdoors, but at least think about it for 12 seconds before you go out. please. if you feel down those stairs, you wouldn't just take yourself out; you'd nail about 10 other people as you went down.

sentinel dome
john, paul and i took a hike to sentinel dome one day, followed by a journey down to glacier point. sentinel dome is a bit of a drive from camp mather; maybe 45 minutes. once at the trailhead, it's only a 20 minute hike up to the dome, and an easy one at that. once on the dome, you're offered a spectacular view of half dome, vernal falls, nevada falls, upper and lower yosemite falls, and much of the valley. i recommend the hike highly.

as far as the hike to glacier point...this is another one of those packed destinations, jammed with people. it's an amazing view, but not really any better than sentinel dome. if you feel like avoiding the crowds, i'd skip it.

on our way back from the dome, we stopped in yosemite valley to see if we could catch a sight of some climbers on el capitan. as luck would have it, we did. we managed to spy a small crew of three or four making their way up the monolith. all i can really say is, "wow." those guys have cojones the size of the rock of gibraltar. either that, or they're really, really dumb.

camp mather
the camp itself is pretty nice. it's nestled in the trees, and has lots of facilities (lake, swimming pool, tennis courts, horse stables, archery range, baseball field). it also has a huge dining hall where they serve three meals a day (and the food is good, as far as these things go). the cabins themselves are pretty small, sparse, no running water, naked lightbulbs, no amenities; i think there are several different types of cabins on the grounds, but i can only comment on the one we stayed in. last but not least, communal bathrooms and showers, as well as a laundry room.

a few points, not in any order:

1. you've never seen so many bikes in your life. this place was like huffy heaven. the road past our cabin became a racetrack for the week we were there.
2. the only thing that surpasses screaming kids is screaming parents. i never saw so many parents over the edge in my life.
3. kids are always just a step or two away from completely ruining their parent's lives, or at least trying to. the periodic (and carefully timed) meltdown is de rigeur if you're under the age of 10. i swear they're like dogs—they sense fear and weakness.

***

we had a great time. i'm not sure we'll go back again before we have kids, but i heartily recommend camp mather if it's something that sounds appealing.

Posted: 09.25.05 at 3:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

September 19, 2005

robot love

file under: about this blog

after upgrading my blog software last night, i decided to take a look through my traffic logs to see how docrpm.com had been faring over the past few months. pure vanity, it's true, but anyone who blogs and claims to lack at least some sliver of vanity is a liar, IMNSHO.

at first, things were looking pretty good—about 300 visitors a day. plenty of hits (although it's all relative; i'm not going to be the next Yahoo or anything). and then i started looking at the traffic in a little more depth, and realized that the bulk of the visitors to my site did not appear to be human.

...

while bathing in the love of robots, i was simultaneously saddened by the realization that all of those hits on my web site don't amount to a hill of popularity beans. they could mean something. they could mean nothing. is there a human behind that bot pulling my RSS feed, or have they lost interest and moved on to new syndicated delights? do those googlebots help people find my pearls of web wisdom, or do they index for the void?

i'll never know.

does it matter? if i had no readers at all, just robots crawling my site like zombies, would i keep writing? if i were to say, "Yes", then one might be right to accuse me of the most blatant masturbation (pleasing only myself, for all the world to see). if i were to say, "No," then i would be admitting that i write for others, not for myself. that's not necessarily a bad thing, i suppose, but it seems to lack the purity of the writer who puts pen to paper for the sheer joy of expression.

to be honest, i'm not sure which it is. i suppose i write to communicate my own interpretation of the human experience. that communication doesn't mean much if there's no listener—i'm just screaming into the void. at the same time, what i write here serves as an outlet, a mode of expression i don't find elsewhere. it's a digital diary of sorts, although its public nature keeps me from tawdry emotional exhibitionsim (we can all thank the stars for that). sometimes, i write what i write, and i don't care too much if anyone reads.

digital popularity is illusory, or at the very least, suspect. all it means is that bytes authored by you have passed between your Web server and some other digital ghost. so before getting self–congratulatory about the masses who swarm to our sites, we would be wise to see how many of those in the crowd actually have a pulse.

Posted: 09.19.05 at 9:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)

September 18, 2005

notifications fixed

file under: about this blog

notifications are now back online (as those of you who are already signed up have figured out).

thank you, SixApart. MovableType 3.2 seems to be quite an improvement.

Posted: 09.18.05 at 11:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

blog upgrade

file under: about this blog

just upgraded to MovableType 3.2. from the looks of it, this is a pretty major upgrade, so there may be some slight problems ahead. if you notice anything that seems to be amiss (i.e., pages that look all jacked, things that are just plain broken, etc.), please let me know. i really appreciate it.

thanks for your patience and thanks for reading!

Posted: 09.18.05 at 9:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)

September 17, 2005

desolation wilderness 09.05

file under: travel

for the past three years, i've gone camping in desolation wilderness with one or more of my friends. we've been trying to make the annual camping trip a tradition. it's a good way to stay in touch with friends and nature alike.

this was the first year we've been able to coordinate an outing with the four of us who have gone over the years (bill, trevor, eric, and myself). bill's been raising kids, which has made it nigh on impossible to plan a trip with him, but this year was different—bill contacted us and said he was up for the hike. after some wrangling over maps and possible camp spots, we decided to revisit desolation wilderness. trevor and i had found what looked like a good spot last year, so it seemed a good choice for a three–day trip (easy hike in, decent day–hiking potential, known site with nearby fishing).

it was all going to be so easy.

Continue with the story or skip it and go straight to my pictures of desolation wilderness near Ralston Lake.

...

day 0: on the road to tahoe
we drove up the day before and crashed at eric's swanky family cabin in tahoe. this made for a good jumping off point, since we wanted to get on the trail early and to our site before it got too hot. we grabbed a pizza dinner and a few last–minute supplies, rationalized all of our gear, had a few beers (and other libations), and then crashed.

part of the idea of sleeping in tahoe the night before was so that we'd have one more night on a soft bed with a good night's sleep. unfortunately, bill had other ideas. he confirmed my theory about people who snore loudly: they always fall asleep fastest, making it nearly impossible for everyone else to get to sleep. i think he fell asleep before he even got into his sleeping bag; the rest was just a formality. as soon as the light was out, he started cutting down trees, and trevor and i started laughing, it was so loud. eventually trevor went in search of peace and quiet; i just laid there and dozed on and off until bill woke up at 3:330, at which point i finally got some sleep.

day 1: the hike in
our departure the next morning was later than expected (it always is), but we did manage to get to the trailhead and on the trail by 10:15am. the first sign that things might not go as expected on this trip was when we got to the trailhead at Lower Echo Lake. first, rumors that there might be a water taxi in service were exaggerated (it was closed for the winter). second, there was an arctic wind coming off the lake that did not bode well.

we set off down the trail and made good time. the pack didn't feel as heavy this year, although i was still huffing a bit on the uphills (man am i outta shape!). in about 2 hours, we made it to the Tamarack Lake trailhead, which was our exit from the Pacific Crest trail (PCT). we followed the rocky path, and ran into two forest rangers as we approached. we chatted with them for a bit, showed our wilderness permit, heard the standard spiel: packing out toilet paper, digging 8" holes for our morning ritual, and camping 200 feet from water. the main ranger we talked to was really cool: young, thin as a rail, tan, absent–mindedly pulling beef jerky strips out of his pocket to snack on.

eventually, we parted ways and continued on towards Ralston Lake, which is only a half mile from Tamarack, up over a small rise in the terrain. we crossed that divide, hiked down by the lake, and started scouting for a camp site. a beautiful point (i called it "Montauk Point", making oblique reference to William Orbit) on the lake seemed a decent candidate, but there were no campable flat spots. in fact, it seemed we would have to camp more than 200 feet from the water. after splitting up and spreading out, we eventually found a spot nestled in the trees just back from the lake. it looked like people had camped there before, so we decided to settle in.

after setting up camp, i realized i was a bit cold, chilled after the hike in. i switched into warmer clothes and decided to get into my bag for a bit to warm up. fifteen minutes turned into an hour and a half, and the next thing i knew it, it was four o'clock. i got up, and trevor and eric had disappeared; bill and i joked that they hiked Ralston Peak, and then decided to take a little hike. we walked around Ralston Lake as far is we could, then circled back and went down to Cagwin Lake, a small sibling to Ralston. as we came into a clearing by Cagwin, two fantastic camp sites came into view, which i had forgotten about from the year before. they both had great seating areas, kitchens, and decent cocktail lounges for the early evening scotch we always take on our trips. we made our way back, and discovered that trevor and eric had hiked Ralston Peak, and now their feet were paying for it (they had both complained of slight blisters on the way up).

we cooked up an early dinner (around 6pm), then headed over to Montauk Point for an evening scotch or two. after an hour or so on the point, the wind started howling, and we got chilled to the bone. we decided the make our way back to camp, and then crashed for the evening.

day 2: cold camp
i hardly slept that night. the wind howled like the Mistral, and felt like it too. i was so cold, and couldn't find a comfortable position. i just kept tossing and turning, and every time i moved, a little arctic air came into my bag. bill always jokes about how i get cold so easily, and that night i was frozen.

as it turned out, everyone was frozen. for the first time i can remember, trevor, bill and eric all complained that it was freezing cold that night, and they could hardly sleep. they never complain. it was at that moment, i think, that eric dubbed our site Cold Camp.

morning proved no different: we froze our butts off. oatmeal didn't help. hot chocolate didn't help. jumping around and complaining didn't help. it was just cold, and it stayed that way. we kept searching for the sun, but it never came, or when it did, it always hid just behind clouds, taunting us with its nurturing warmth. we spread out on rocks when it came out briefly, but i think we all went back into our bags again after we realized it wasn't getting warm anytime soon.

eventually we got up and had lunch, and bill, eric and i decided to take a day hike. trevor's blisters were worse than any of us had thought (including him): he was immobile, unable to put his shoes on. so we left him to keep the camp in order, and headed off for an afternoon hike. our destination was Triangle Lake, followed by a jaunt to Lost lake, and then who–knows–where.

what looked like it was going to be an easy little hop turned out to be a bit more than that. the hoof up to Triangle Lake was steep, followed by a rapid descent. Lost Lake had no trail (which was probably why it's lost), so we had to go overland to get there, crossing classic Sierra scree, scrambling up and over ridges, guessing our way along based on our contour maps. eventually, we got to Lost lake and spread out on a big, flat rock, basking in the sun. it was finally warm, and felt good to lay out without the wind that had been hounding us for a day and a half.

at this point, given how much terrain we had crossed, we decided to continue on and make it a loop trek: we would cross overland to Lake Lucille, following the 8200' contour line that we were on. of course, these things are never that easy. it took us a good hour to go the mile to Lake Lucille, much of it involving treacherous treks across steep scree, punctuated by some free climbing that was a little more daring than my fear of heights could handle.

in the end, we made it, and then headed back for camp. we hiked back quickly, making it back well before dark. we all noticed, too, that the temperature dropped by 10–15 degrees within the last half mile of the trail. probably a total of 6–7 miles, if i had to guess (my fancy new pedometer couldn't tell me because it didn't !^&*$*&# well work ).

the night of day 2 was largely the same, the only difference being that instead of creeping out onto the windy exposed rock of Montauk Point, we stayed next to Cold Camp, so that our bags were never far. eventually, we seemed to all warm up. maybe it was the scotch. maybe it was the company. maybe it was that we were out under the stars, and felt hundreds of miles from home and responsibility. whatever it was, it was a great way to end the trip.

day 3: the hike out
morning proved just as cold on the last day, but we had all mummified ourselves the night before in an attempt to keep the cold at bay. we woke feeling slightly warmer, and the sun seemed inclined to come out. murphy's law: whenever you're on a trip and there's bad weather, it always breaks on the last day.

we broke camp pretty quickly, and trevor and eric did their best to bandage their blisters for the hike out.

the hike went by in a hurry...we probably made it to the parking lot in about 1.5 hours or so. we hardly stopped the whole way, and let Trevor set the pace, given his hoof situation. the PCT was like a freeway that morning, with day hikers coming in and asking us how our trip was. i think each and every one of us said, "Cold. Cold, but good." the thing is, when you're out with your buddies in the grandeur of the Sierra, it's all pretty much good, even the bad (as long as you make it home to your warm bed and shower).

***

next year, we might try someplace else. there's been talk of emigrant wilderness, going in near Kennedy Meadow, but i think we'll have to check the weather first. ;-)

Posted: 09.17.05 at 3:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

September 3, 2005

Kenny lives

file under: my life

Posted: 09.03.05 at 12:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)