What I learned today

First of all, it's really hot. Soul-grabbing hot.
PROOF
This is Darado (a.k.a. the Luck Dragon) and he's my favorite dog in the world. What's he doing in this picture?He's pushing himself into the floor and making himself as flat as he can get because I just asked him if he wants to go outside. It's that hot.
The second thing I learned today is that Elephant Ears (Colocasia esculenta) aren't great cut flowers. Here are some I cut this morning:What's really interesting is that they have a clear sap that turns the water the color of weak tea. I looked it up, and they are high in oxalic acid; I'm going to assume that's what's causing this reaction.
I was curious to know if there was any way to keep these leaves turgid (I used to grow flowers for wholesale florists in Georgia), so I checked my copy of Specialty Cut Flowers (Allan Armitage) to see if he had any information about it. Nope.
Some flowers have to be handled in a certain way to extend the post-harvest life. This includes searing the cut end with a lighter, plunging in hot water or splitting the stem. I decided to try to seal the ends with a lighter and hot water- it was obvious that they were losing turgidity quickly.And here's what I found. The jar on the top shelf is the original container. I just cut those and put them in regular water. The jar on the bottom left had their stem ends seared with a lighter, closing off the vascular system and holding in the sap. And the stems on the bottom right were put into hot water. I think the water was too hot though cause it made the stems mushy like overcooked asparagus.
The water became a little stained in the two "treatments," but not like the original jar. They didn't wilt as fast either. Next time, I'm going to submerge the stem ends in hot water for 30 seconds, then put into room temperature water.

That's all! Nothing ground-breaking.

Culverts, Press, and Poetry

Isn't this cool? Check out these very, very, large metal culverts right next to the road at Kautz Creek. Now try to imagine the road going OVER these culverts (they're supposed to handle future Kautz floods). BTW, this photo partially explains why the official word on the road to Longmire states, "probably [open] in early May." If you are wondering, there are less specific dates for Paradise. Also, news about the park reopening is gaining attention from the New York Times; they discussed strategies to fix the mess (but the story hasn't changed).

Recently, the Seattle Times waxed eloquently about the exclusivity of sleeping in the National Park Inn (NPI) at Longmire this winter. According to the author, visitors with highly coveted reservations at the lodge will be staying at

"one of the most exclusive hotels in the world, the 25-room National Park Inn... this is the only place for a traveler to sleep and enjoy indoor plumbing in the park's largely unpeopled wilderness."

The article goes on to slightly glorify the privilege, but this is not quite as exclusive as the paper might have you believe. As it turns out, climbers have been on the mountain too, a subtle revelation that is slowly spreading across the Puget Sound area. It all started when a few local pilots noted larger teams on the Muir Snowfield and at Camp Muir while zooming by the peak! Then there were rumors of guided clients who made it to Ingraham Flats... (Seattle IS a small town you know). So the word is out: those who booked trips with a concessioned guide service for this spring will be shuttled into the park like the visitors to the NPI at Longmire.
Post climbing ranger "employment:" On the creative writing front, our very good friend and poet, Mimi Allin, was buzzed by the Seattle Times and KIRO Radio. Mimi (former Camp Schurman climbing ranger) has been implicated as the Poetess at Green Lake! Those who walk, run, skip and/or bike around Green Lake may have laid eyes upon her little desk labeled P O E T (look for the red umbrella when it's raining). The desk (and Mimi) can be found every Sunday (since last July) on the NW corner of the lake from 9 to 5. At this very desk, Mimi channels artistic discussion around creative poet vortices (or something like that). Unlicensed and unpermitted, the Poetess at Green Lake has a poem for you..Techncial Sidebar: Mimi walks 4 miles each way to her post. She has only left early once, due to a snowstorm. If you're in Seattle, achieve a creative boost to your life by visiting with Ms. Mimi Allin.

Kendall Knob ..

Dan and I headed out to the Kendall Knob/clear cut area for some quick backcountry turns this morning. It turns out we didn't stay long.
What I have been learning is you need speed to easily execute turns in deep powder. I managed to do that last week at Hyak. However, trees were added to the equation today, and this made it more difficult to want to go fast. It is all a learning curve. On a positive note, I did not hit any trees. I did crash hard when catching a ski on buried alder.
Dan and I found the snow to be deep. Skinning was tiring. It snowed and the wind blew the whole time we were out. Dan had difficulty extricating himself a few times. I had difficulty with the one crash. A little more snow coverage would have made things somewhat easier.
We dug a snow pit at our high point to investigate the snow pack. Mostly soft snow for the top 30". We did a tap test and were able to have a 4" top slide with wrist taps on a fairly low angle slope. (~25° heavily treed) Often we heard the Alpental ski patrol bombing the slopes. (It was sort of scary.)
We made one run through the trees, and called it quits. By the time we left, I90 Eastbound was closed.
Dan breaking trail through trees
The view before conditions deteriorated.

Shaken, Not Stirred

At just before 2:00p today, the Washington DC area experienced something quite unusual. An EARTHQUAKE! Not just a little temblor, mind you; but a rather strong Magnitude 5.8 earthquake. I won’t use the word panic, but to say that fear ran rampant for a while would not be much of an exaggeration.

I was in a meeting at work when I sensed a slight movement. I didn’t give it much thought at first. Such movements are not unusual in our building, which seems to shudder a bit anytime a big rig goes by. In the next second, the movement seemed to gather a bit more momentum. Then, I heard it. The slow, deep rumbling that grows ever-louder as it travels from the underground in parallel with a quake. That’s when I knew for sure that we were in the midst of being shaken by an earthquake.

One of the worst aspects of being in an earthquake is the confusion. If you’ve not been in one before, you’re not sure what’s happening. It’s difficult to comprehend the movement and sound as being a force of nature. Having grown up in an earthquake-prone area, I had an advantage over others in the office. I knew what was happening. As the shaking grew steadier and stronger, I grabbed my co-worker and pulled her to stand under the door jamb with me. As others came out of neighboring offices — some more calmly than others — I told them to either stand under door jambs or crawl under desks.

[collage compiled from images from the USGS website]

I don’t know how long the quake lasted, but it seemed like an eternity. I’m not embarrassed to admit that by the time it was over, my hands and legs were shaking in a mini-quake of their own. Just because I’ve been in earthquakes before doesn’t mean that I’m used to them. Or that I wait them out calmly. Just ask my mother how I railed at Mother Nature, shouting “Enough already,” when a particularly strong quake we experienced when I was in high school was followed by what seemed like un-ending aftershocks.

Following today’s quake, we were evacuated briefly while the engineers checked to make sure the building was structurally sound. By 2:30p, the all clear was given. I returned to my 5th floor office to finish the last half-hour of my workday before heading home.

As I unlocked the door to the condo, I wasn’t sure what I would find. Would all the breakables be on the floor, shattered to bits? I had not used earthquake putty to secure them to the shelves on which they were displayed. Why would I? We weren’t living in an earthquake-prone area. A few minutes later, I had my answer. The damage was minimal. Yes there were items strewn about. Yes, some things had fallen off shelves and out of cabinets. But only one thing was broken — a pottery cookie jar that was a gift from my mother.

No; I'm not in the habit of leaving drawers and cabinets open!

Left: Good thing the soil was dry; easily cleaned up with the vacuum.
Right: Ouch! That knife could have done some damage.

the skewed and the fallen
one of the oddest sights to greet my eyes was the “evil eye” on the wall; somehow
it managed to flip itself over during the quake without falling to the floor.
(the inset shows the way the evil eye should have been hanging.)
and what about my Elephant candlestick leaning drunkenly on the mantel!

shattered to pieces, the cookie jar was with the other items on top of the cabinets,
some toppled over, while others remained upright.

In a not so pleasant coincidence, 26 years ago today, a magnitude 7.5 earthquake hit China, killing over 70 people, injuring 162, leaving 150,000 homeless, and destroying 85% of the buildings in the Wuqia-Shufu area.

Considering the destructive power of this force of nature, our earthquake experience today was just a little shake, rattle, and roll. Something for which to be grateful.

Seeking out the light

'Tis the year's midnight...the world's whole sap is sunk.' And in these days between Christmas and New Year, away from the artificial glare of the city, I've been seeking out the light. Dawn is a matter of a few minutes, between 9 and 9.15 a.m. Christmas Day dawned quietly, in washed silver and blue.
Below, sunset on Christmas Day at 3.30 pm, beside the Spey in the face of a tearing gale.

Boxing Day dawn was a panoply of cloud shapes. Mild temperatures (14 degrees!) allowed me to stand outside to view the return of the sun.


There was no sunset where we were that day, just the grey half-light deepening imperceptibly into dark. I had somehow expected today's sunrise to make up for it with a gaudy show, but it was delicate and restrained.

Instead the show came tonight, with 10 minutes of fire in the west.

Happy cows

If you make it to the end of the rather blurry shot of this label in Mellis's cheese shop you'll see why the cows are happy. Actually the implication that these Isle of Mull cows are uniquely happy made me smile, because feeding cows with the spent grain from whisky distilleries is commonplace in Scotland. My father was a grain merchant, and I grew up with phone calls from farmers wanting this grain, or 'draff', for their cows, or my father trying to sell excess loads of draff to farmers, or giving haulage firms directions to remote farms deep in the hills in the days before satnav.
That apart, a visit to Mellis's shops in Victoria Street, just off the Royal Mile, or in Morningside or Stockbridge, is a treat. The shops are more like caves - cold, dampish caverns stacked with great wheels and pillars of artisan-made cheese.


The happy cows also made me smile as I remembered my student vacation job as a tour guide at Glenfiddich distillery. It was a disappointment if someone didn't come up with a 'happy cows' remark when hearing about how the spent barley was disposed of. The fact that there was no alcohol in the barley was beside the point.

What Does Your Life Lack?

On the list below, I need more creating, long walks, and love; always more love. Can't get too much love. What about you?