The Man

Two Quotes for Today

"If a vocal minority, however fervient its cause, prevails over reason and the will of the majority, this Nation has no future as a free society." - President Richard M. Nixon, 1969

"A spirit of national masochism prevails, encouraged by an effete corps of impudent snobs who characterize themselves as intellectuals." - Spiro T. Agnew

Wade Simmons from 'New World Disorder 7'

'The Forgotten Man'...A MUST Read

"The forgotten man... He works, he votes, generally he prays, but his chief
business in life is to pay." - William Graham Sumner

So sets the stage of the new book, The Forgotten Man, by Amity Shlaes. Miss Shlaes uses her experience, as a financial columnist and historian, to take a new look at The Great Depression. Specifically, FDR's impact on the economy, and Sumner's forgotten man, during that time. This is history I never learned in school. The focus is on citizens, not programs, and how they fared under the New Deal.

FDR's merciless attacks on "big business."

His attempts to pack the Supreme Court.

The creation of special programs, via Executive Order, with no oversight from Congress.

The Federal Government's entry into the utilities industry.

The second Crash in 1938.

The personal stories, and intriguing facts and detail, keep The Forgotten Man from being a drab read. As a conservative, an interesting observation struck me: In an effort to get more cash in circulation, FDR did not call for tax cuts to put more money in the hands of consumers to spend in the free market. President Roosevelt demanded more government programs.

I highly recommend this book.

The "Castle Doctrine" is alive and well in Texas

From the National Post: http://www.nationalpost.com/news/story.html?id=145182

At first, Joe Horn appears to be doing his neighbourly duty. When he sees two men allegedly breaking into a home on his street in suburban Pasadena, Tex., in the middle of the day, he dials 911.

But the 61-year-old's call quickly takes a decidedly unneighbourly turn.

"I've got a shotgun. Do you want me to stop 'em?" he asks the emergency dispatcher less than 20 seconds into the call.

"Nope, don't do that," the dispatcher replies. "Ain't no property worth shooting somebody over, OK?"

Moments later, Mr. Horn defies the dispatcher and steps outside.

"Move, you're dead!" he can be heard saying on the Nov. 14 audio recording.

Then comes the sound of several shotgun blasts. Mr. Horn returns to the telephone.

"Get the law over here quick," he says. "They came in the front yard with me, man. I had no choice."

Police arrived soon afterward to find two men with gunshot wounds; both died.

That was three weeks ago, but Mr. Horn has not been charged with any crime. Police are waiting for a grand jury to decide whether to indict him. The case has divided Texans into two camps: Those who support the shooter's apparent vigilantism and argue his actions were reasonable under the Second Amendment; and those who say he is a murderer whose actions may have been racially motivated.

Mr. Horn is white. The two dead men -- Miguel Antonio DeJesus, 38, and Diego Ortiz, 30 -- were black.

Pasadena Police expect the grand jury to be convened in the next few weeks. Meanwhile, tension is mounting.

The New Black Panther Nation, a black activist group, led nearly 200 protesters to Mr. Horn's otherwise quiet street for a rally on Sunday. They were met by a roughly equivalent number of his supporters; bikers revved their engines to drown out Quanell X, the New Black Panther Nation's leader, when he tried to speak.

"We don't condone anyone breaking into anybody's home and stealing. But we also don't condone a citizen becoming the police, the judge, the jury and the executioner, all at the same time," Quanell X said in a telephone interview.

"We believe that a system of law is in place, that every human being is granted due process in the system of law. Mr. Horn circumvented that, abandoned that and literally threw that whole due-process system away."

Local newspapers and radio talk shows have also been deluged by responses from Mr. Horn's defenders.

"If we had justice like this for all criminals, this would be a much safer country," one supporter wrote on YouTube.

"I believe what Joe did was right and I applaud him for it. And if you're some worthless human being that has to go steal other people's hard-earned possessions, you deserve to die."

On the 911 recording, which is widely available on the Internet, Mr. Horn repeatedly tells the dispatcher he is not going to let the men get away. At least 11 times, the dispatcher advises him not to leave his home or shoot.

An investigation is still under way, but a spokesman for the Pasadena Police said it appears Mr. Horn shot the two men after he turned a corner and found them in his yard.

Police estimate he was two to three metres from the men. One was hit in the chest, another in the side.

The victims began running in opposite directions, but both soon died, said Captain A. H. "Bud" Corbett. He described Mr. Horn as sounding "aggressive" in the recording.

"If Mr. Horn had just walked out and blown away two people walking by on the sidewalk, he'd have been locked up, and he probably would have been charged," Capt. Corbett said. "But that is not the case."

Tom Lambright, Mr. Horn's lawyer, insists his client was simply defending himself because the men "made lunging movements."

"He's trying to protect his own life," Mr. Lambright said recently. "He's scared."

The recording also indicates Mr. Horn keeps up to date on his rights. At one point, he lectures the dispatcher and reminds him he has the right to protect himself, and "the laws have been changed in this country since Sept. 1, and you know it and I know it."

This is thought to refer to a new state law strengthening Texans' right to defend themselves in their homes, vehicles and workplaces. The so-called "castle doctrine" took effect on Sept. 1.

Guns are easy to acquire in Texas and most are unsympathetic to the plight of criminals. The state leads the U.S. in executions: 405 since the death penalty was reinstated in the 1970s.

"Texas is a frontier state. It has a lot of tradition in terms of people being able to protect themselves," said Fred Moss, a professor of criminal law at Southern Methodist University in Dallas.

"What disappoints me is that the vocal minority gives the image of Texas as being a bunch of gun-toting, chest-thumping, macho types who think you ought to be able to gun burglars down as they run away."

If the grand jury decides not to indict Mr. Horn, Quanell X will lead another march back through the quiet suburban neighbourhood and directly to his door.

He expects it will be necessary. "We live in the deep South," he said. "And in the deep South a white man killing a black men is as common as apple and cherry pie."

The New Ride

My desire and my riding has finally outgrown my '04 Specialized Enduro Expert. I bought that bike from my friend, Mike. That bike got me hooked on mountain biking. Lately, we've been trending to the steeper, faster, bigger...and I needed a ride that could propel me forward. I looked at a few different bikes, but always came back to the Enduro line. Mike had an '07 Enduro Expert that he let me ride a couple times.


I got the word that he had already sold his so, I started searching for another one. Then the word came down that his was still available, and he made me a deal that was too good to pass up. I think I am now a sponsored rider of the Kabul Fight Club.

(Thanks to Mike for the image.)

Teanaway, Part II

Part I was a truncated ride up Miller Peak, which is chronicled here:

Digging Deep on Miller Peak

One week later, and much convalesced, we headed back into the Teanaway to get some more mileage in this beautiful area before the snows shut things down. We decided on a counterclockwise ride of what is known as the "5 Drainages" ride. Most people do it in a clockwise direction to take advantage of the beautiful, buff trail descending 1,800' down the Eldorado Creek drainage. Mike, however, had heard that counterclockwise would set us up for a beautiful 3,100' descent. An early start from the West Side found us in Cle Elum well before first light; we camped out in the Pioneer Coffee Roasting Co. and sipped mexican mochas until the sky started to get light.

The fall colors were even more brilliant than the previous week, but the weather looked even better. We were off by 0800, after Mike set up his 2007 Specialized Enduro rental bike for me to try out. The nine road miles cruised by and we started up the Eldorado Creek trail; most of it is 'hike-a-bike' so, we consigned ourselves to pushing. We rode where we could and, once I got the feel of it, the '07 Enduro climbed very well. I was very impressed with the ProPedal adjustment on the Fox DHX Air Shock. As we climbed higher, the scenery got better and better: the trees opened up, the ridges and snowcapped peaks rose up around us, and the beautiful, rust-red volcanic rock of the Teanaway began to appear. Suddenly, we were at the saddle and could see down into the Beverly Creek Drainage, North to the Stuart Range and the Enchantments, and West to the heart of the Central Cascades.

As a sidetrip (unintended), we pushed our bikes to the summit of Iron Peak's second summit (6,510'). We found a register, placed by the Mountaineers, at the high point, and then got set up for the descent. The descent back to the saddle was interesting, mostly for the surroundings and position in the high alpine. After some videography, we dropped into the drainage and started the good-ness. The upper third, or half even, of this trail is no slouch of a descent; you can't just point it straight and go. There are 'babyheads', sharp jogs, and other potential day-killers along the way that keep you on your toes and your brakes. One thing I had noticed is that the beefy build, and stiff front hub, of the '07 Enduro rolled through (and over) stuff that would have collapsed my '04 Enduro. This was a whole new All-Mountain weapon.

After crossing two huge scree fields, the trail finally started to buff up, as it entered the lower-elevation forest. It was then that I finally started to get comfortable with the '07 Enduro. I was able to get low and stuff it into corners in ways I could never have done on my '04. The beefier, stiffer components, the larger brake rotors, and the altered geometry lent more confidence when attacking things straight on. It truly is a great bikel; Specialized definitely has the formula, in my opinion. As we descended lower, the trail began to open up and we rocketed towards to trailhead. In the end, we cut the overall ride short due to all the filming, and such, that we did. It didn't matter, though, as it was a great day in the mountains, and a great close to the high alpine riding for the season.

For those who lack reading skills, here is a media interpretation of the above account: Iron Peak/Beverly Creek

Icicle Ridge Ride

Having climbed in the Icicle Canyon, outside of Leavenworth, WA, for the past seven years, I have had ample opportunity to stare up at the heights of Icicle Ridge and wonder. Other objectives always kept me from just hiking up the ridge and checking it out. Touted as one of the great, classic mountain bike rides in the area (if not the State), I finally decided to have a go at it.

Mike and I met up with Stefan at the North Bend Starbucks and headed out. Coming down off of Blewett Pass, the thermometer in Mike's truck was still reading in the low 30's. We were not sure about the conditions so, we had packed for a little bit of everything. Once the ridge came into view, we could see there was no snow; we were good to go. We parked at the Icicle Ridge Trailhead, where we would come out, and started up the road. I was all for taking a relaxed pace, to save energy for the descent; Stefan had a different idea of "relaxed" and pulled away. He proved to be a very strong climber, and a good guy to have along for the day.

The ride starts, and ends, at 1,200'; the top of the ridge is at 6,800'. We gained 1,200' on the eight mile road ride. The five mile "hike-a-bike" up the trail would bring us the remaining 4,400' of elevation gain to the ridgetop. A strong climber can ride probably half of the trail. Since we wanted to conserve energy for the descent, Mike and I adopted the "slow and steady wins the race" philosophy. Still, we kept a fairly decent pace, taking occasional breaks and pushing/carrying our bikes. As we got higher, the mountains of the Stuart Range and the Enchantment Lakes area began to rear up. As we pushed on to 6,800', the view South towards the Enchantment Plateau continued to open up.

Nearing the top of the ridge, we could see the trees covered in hoarfrost. It was a beautiful sight. We regrouped, and got ready for the descent. Mike got the helmet cam set up, and we took off. At this point, I realized that the term "ridge" is almost a misnomer; it was more of a broad plateau. The ride moves through several sections of burned forest, alpine meadows, and green forest. The ridge traverse, before the true "descent", is a significant ride in and of itself. I would divide this ride into three distinct, and significant portions: the climb, the traverse, and the descent. Obviously, one could say this about almost any ride. The difference, for me, was the scale of each piece.

At the far end of the traverse, we stopped for a bite before beginning the descent. Once we started, the smiles didn't stop until we were back at the car. Rocky 'downhill lite' sections, tight switchbacks, and buff sidehill runs, kept dropping beneath our front wheels as we rode. Finally, the Pines started getting taller and the trail started getting smoother and more populated. Fun riding all the way to the car. We hit the parking lot just shy of seven hours. We took our time to film certain areas and take pictures. This was a ride we truly wanted to savor.

Devil's Gulch Ride - 09/15/07

Another early Saturday morning, and Mike, myself, and the ‘Nug’, are heading off to our next objective: Devil’s Gulch, outside of Cashmere, WA. Most who ride it claim it is one of the top 5 descents in the State. I was looking forward to it. It was a beautiful, cool morning to ride the 12-miles of forest road to reach the trailhead.

Mike set what I thought was a brisk pace, but I discovered minimal problems pushing slightly taller gears to match it. The ‘Nug’ was keeping up, so far. The first few miles are pretty moderate, climbing slowly. Soon, the road rears up, and the real meat of the approach starts. Conversations ceased as we all bent to the task. After a break, we continued on and reached the trailhead; the ride up took two hours.

Geared up, once again, we took off down the trail. It was pretty dusty, but still sweet. The trail, in the upper section, is smooth and fast with tight flowing turns. It was a lot of fun. Pretty soon, we were at the junction of the Mission Ridge ride. We re-grouped and then headed out again. This second section was still fast, but with tighter switchbacks and sandier edges. After a creek crossing, we took off again. The trail just continued to be fun, flowing, and smooth. Each section seemed to have slightly different characteristics, which kept it interesting.

We had hoped to ride Mission Ridge, as well, but ran out of time. Next time.

Little Bald Mountain - Turning a Frown Upsidedown

Little Bald Mountain, 25 miles East of Chinook Pass, has been on my radar screen for about a year. Mike and I had heard good reports about the ride, and the scenery was supposed to be stellar. People call it an 'epic' ride; as climbers who have had a few epics between us, we were braced for a memorable day.

I picked Mike up at 0515, in North Bend, and we headed out. Mike mentioned he was not feeling well, but we both hoped that it would pass and we could complete our objective. The twists and turns on 410 took their toll, and we took a "medical rest stop." Thankfully, after vomitting about seven times, Mike felt better. We were back on the road. The day was dawning crisp and clear, and Mt. Rainier was out in force. We continued over Chinook Pass, and started looking for the starting point for the ride. In preparing for this ride, we had found little in the way of good, concise information. We had a map from one source, a trip report from another, and a guidebook description - none of them fully jived. We missed the turn, found the turn, and drove around confused by too much information. We finally made a decision based on instinct, and the surrounding terrain, and went for it.

The 3,500' elevation gain is absorbed over a 15-17 mile ride on a very well-graded Forest Service Road. We both jacked in to our iPods, put our heads down, and made time. We took a few breaks and kept moving in the cool morning air. It was the first weekend of elk season, for archery hunters, and we saw a lot of rigs on the road. We made it to the start of the trail in about 2 hrs 30 minutes. We took time to eat and get Mike's new helmet-cam setup rigged for action. With out gear sussed, and a plan in place, we took off.

I took the lead and Mike followed with the camera. I dropped into the trail and found it loose, rocky, and dusty; quite different conditions than we found on Kachess. after the first 200-m, we took a left hairpin turn and started a sidehill descent towards a talus field. I was carrying a lot of speed, since Mike was behind me, and this proved to be my undoing. I bounced through a few rocks, and then got bounced into the uphill side of the trail. The brief airborne experience, which followed, included neither beverage service nor a complimentary magazine. I got tossed over the bars and landed on my shoulder. I got composed, checked for major damage, and started off again. We soon started pushing our bikes across a big talus field.

In a short rideable section of this talus field, Mike's derailleur got bashed by a rock, trashing his rear dropout. His derailleur was now smashed against his rear wheel. One half mile into a 12-mile descent, and we had a wreck and a major mechanical. The sun was shining, but not on us. We worked for about 15 minutes, and turned Mike's bike into a singlespeed. Mike chose a descending gear, not a climbing gear, so we pushed our bikes on the uphill sections we encountered. This negatively affected our impressions of the "flowability" of the ride. It also made us realize that, hiking is overrated.

After some nice twisty sections, we broke out onto the edge of the plateau for which this ride is known. Bumpy and dusty, we trucked along hoping for more exciting terrain ahead. We found it. The trail pitched down, and we entered a continuous series of flowing, banked turns. After that, we pushed for a bit, and found cougar tracks heading up the trail, very clear in the deep floury dust of the trail. We started dropping the remaining 900' of elevation in short order. Conditions warranted a bit of caution due to the rocky nature of the trail.

As if to exact one final toll on us, before spitting us back into the civilized world, Little Bald Mountain's whip cracked one last time. Dropping down final slope, onto the forest road, I heard Mike yell something. I looked ahead and decided to start braking. Not soon enough. My tires didn't bite well enough in the soft dirt, and I knew I was about to go down. I popped out of my pedals, and tried to land in the safest spot: right in-between a stump and a boulder. What's one or two more scrapes among friends? In all, we had a good time, despite the misinformation and misadventures.

On to the next objective.

Washington Mountain Biking

I took a good part of the summer off from mountain biking to focus on MMA training. I got some good Spring riding in but, training five days a week was kicking my ass for doing anything on the weekends. With Mike, my main riding partner, back in town, we set some serious goals to take advantage of the remainder of the riding season. So far, this late season onslaught has been about discovering new trails and riding some epic descents. Our plan is to hit as many 'big alpine' descents as possible; we've done the 410 Corridor, pretty much, it is time to move farther afield.

Close to town, Eric and Scott showed us the key to unlocking the sweet flow to the trails in the Tokul Complex. Our previous attempts in the area had shown us limited potential, at best. This time out, we were treated to some sweet singletrack: switchbacks, root drops, rocks, and buff forest floor.

Thanks to Eric, who supplied us with good beta, we did two awesome laps on the Poach Next Door. The admission price was worth it, both times. The first time around, we weren't even sure we were in the right place. Steep, buff, and tight, with nice drops and quick maneuvering to keep you on your toes (and poised over the brakes) all the way down. I had trouble getting into the flow on the first lap but, I made up for it the second time around.

Kachess Ridge
Time for an epic descent in the beautiful Central Cascades. The original destination was Little Bald Mountain; a ride I had been wanting to do since last year. Unfortunately, I had trouble getting my rear brake to bleed properly, and we had to wait until Singletrack Cycles opened up in order to set it straight. Well, that blew our original plan so Mike suggested Kachess Ridge, off of I-90. As a 20-mile loop, the eight miles of singletrack are accessed by a 12-mile uphill grunt on Forest Service roads. Mike had ridden Kachess Ridge the week before; he called me on the road home from that ride and told me the price of admission was worth the payoff. I knew it had to be sweet. The climb gains about 3,200', all in the last five miles. It was good training for some bigger rides we have planned.

We left the road at a beautiful saddle looking down into French Cabin Basin. We dropped into the basin and traversed across to another saddle. I dubbed this saddle "Flat Tire Pass", as I got a flat tire during the last hike-a-bike section to reach it. Immediately, the trail drops away and deposits you into a series of beautiful sub-alpine meadows, followed by beautiful forests. Drop after drop, bermed sweepers, sweet root sections, and awesome Cascade forests continue to deliver for eight mindblowing miles. 'How can this trail continue to deliver?', you will ask yourself. At each break, Mike and I were grinning ear-to-ear. The final mile, or so, has been pretty chewed by horses; it just forces you to use different skills to get it clean. Awesome ride; I'm sure we'll do it again this season.

Competition Cycle

We are entering the fourth week of a competition cycle. Fights are October 6th.

The intensity increases each week.

The combinations get more complex.

The level of expectation rises with each passing week.

The advertised two-hour session has been stretching to 2-1/2; beyond that, Ivan keeps us late to spar. The nights grow longer; camaraderie is strengthened. Most of us agree that our mental toughness is being conditioned as well as our bodies. Something you don’t get spending evenings surfing MySpace Groups or making claymation videos for youtube.com. It is not uncommon to have guys drop 4, 6, even 8, or more, pounds of water weight by the end of the night, even while replenishing during practice.

Attendance ebbs and flows around a nucleus of regulars. A newcomer, at this stage, is tossed into the deep end immediately. On the nights I feel weak, I am thankful to have three months of buildup to help push through the pain and fatigue. Sometimes, I am surprised the new ones make it, or that they return. It is nice to be considered a “regular” now; the road to get here was long and painful, but worth every step.

Sparring is getting more intense. Last night was a round-robin, with each fighter in the ring for two two-round sessions, with fresh opponents each round. It was a good test of muscle-memory, endurance, and strategy. Upon reflection, I saw some areas which have improved, but others still need work. In a true ‘learn-by-doing’ sport, sparring is the truest way to find holes and improve.

Transitions

Another phase of life is ending, and a new beginning is quickly approaching as we map out our future. Our two-and-a-half year association with the University of Washington Medical School is coming to an end. The past two years have been a singular focus for Anastacia to wade through, persevere, and excel in the Physician Assistant Program. Anastacia graduates in a month; finally, the needle will be bumped to a new groove to continue playing out the symphony of our life.

Now, we contemplate pursuing that future in a new place, nurturing new roots, away from all that has become familiar and somewhat comfortable. Remarkably, it is without apprehension that we consider turning our backs on this town; easily said, for me, as my disdain for it has grown as of late. New opportunities have arisen, and exciting new horizons are being mapped.

George Patton Speaks to 21st Century America

Thanks to M.A. for spotting this gem.

Defining 'Insanity'

A common, colloquial definition of 'insanity' is, "repeating the same action and expecting a different outcome each time." Robert Mugabe, esteemed dictator of Zimbabwe, is about to become a living definition of insanity. Mugabe seized farms from white landowners, only to see their new black owners run that industry into the ground. One cannot expect this action to end any differently.

While the injustice done to the companies affected is enough to make one's blood boil, the real victims in this are the four out of five Zimbabweans jobless.

article

By Cris Chinaka 1 hour, 22 minutes ago
HARARE (Reuters) - Zimbabwe President Robert Mugabe on Wednesday threatened to seize foreign companies, including mines, that have raised prices and cut output in an economic "dirty tricks" campaign to oust his government.

Mugabe, 83, in power since independence in 1980, accused former colonial power Britain of seeking to overthrow him.

Political and economic analysts said the nationalization threat appeared to be aimed at winning Mugabe's ZANU-PF party votes in next year's general election -- echoing the government's campaign of farm seizures ahead of elections in 2000 that ended in economic disaster.

Speaking at the burial of a top military officer in Harare, Mugabe charged that some industrialists, including miners, had been drafted into a "regime-change" agenda by Britain, deliberately reducing production, raising prices and illegally banking foreign currency abroad.

"We will seize the mines ... we will nationalize them if they continue with the dirty tricks," an angry Mugabe said to a round of applause from hundreds of mourners at the funeral.

"All companies, we will take them over if they continue with their dirty game. Take note, we will be equal to the challenge. We are capable of playing that game too," he said.

RAISING STAKES
The nationalization threat by Mugabe raises the stakes against foreign firms and local company chiefs he has long accused of colluding with his enemies.

On Tuesday a government minister said Zimbabwe will transfer control of all companies, including foreign banks and some mining operations, to locals if a planned black empowerment bill is passed by the country's ruling-party dominated parliament.

Zimbabwe's business community -- including a dwindling number of local subsidiaries of multinational companies, older white-owned firms and black-owned companies which prospered after independence in 1980 -- is already struggling in what the World Bank calls the fastest shrinking economy for a country not at war.

Analysts said approval of the empowerment bill could deepen the economic crisis which has pushed Zimbabwe to the brink of collapse with inflation now believed to be over 4,000 percent per year.

Economic analyst Tony Hawkins said the government was employing a political ploy to distract people from the economic crisis that has left four in five Zimbabweans without jobs.

"I suppose the logic behind this thinking is because in 2000 the land invasions won them an election, company seizures could do the same in 2008," said Hawkins.

Mugabe said on Wednesday his government would not hesitate to jail company executives who were raising prices unreasonably as the hikes were designed to wipe out state-ordered wages meant to cushion the poor.

The government on Tuesday ordered prices of basic goods and services to be slashed by half to protect Zimbabweans after prices had risen by up to 300 percent within a week. The move pushed prices back to the levels of mid-June.

(Additional reporting by MacDonald Dzirutwe and Nelson Banya)

Redemption: 6/23/07 - Mt. Stuart, West Ridge

Mount Stuart is a big mountain (9,415'), dominating the Alpine Lakes Wilderness, and the foundation stone of the Stuart Range in the heart of the Cascade Mountains of Washington State. Early mountaineer Claude E. Rusk called Mount Stuart a "mountain of thrills." (Beckey, 2000) Having been on the mountain three times, successfully summitting twice, I can attest to the veracity of Mr. Rusk's statement. John and I had history with the West Ridge of this mountain, and we decided it was time for some redemption.

In the Fall of 2005, after several routefinding errors, we found ourselves atop the West Horn and losing daylight. Given the time of day, we opted to descend the West Ridge Couloir; a blundering nightmare which culminated in an overhanging rappel into the September night's inky blackness. The deathmarch which followed pushed me beyond exhaustion, falling asleep each time we sat down for a break. Since then, John and I have talked about going back to climb the route and do it right. That time came on June 22nd, 2007.

We bivied with the masses at the Ingalls Lake Trailhead Friday night, ready for an early start. 0330, to be exact. We were on the trail by 0410. The trail was largely snow-free, with a mix of snow and rock from Ingalls Pass to the Lake. We cramponed around the edge of the frozen lake and found a hole for water on the far side. This was also a good spot to scope the gully we needed to enter to get on route.

At the base of the "second gully" (or, "first continuous gully" as some call it), we started cramponing up perfect styrofoam snow, negotiated a short rock step, and got back on snow for a while. After that, it was rock scrambling time until we got to the head of the gully and found our way into the next one, where we donned crampons again to traverse over near the base of Long John Tower. We couldn't see the supposed 4th Class route to the notch so, we scrambled up left of the big corner and then decided to rope up. John led across to the corner, discovered ice, came back and went up and then crossed above the iced-up corner and onto a flat bench. He belayed me over and then we cramponed up the rest of the gully to the notch behind LJT. We saw the "scissor feature" on the side of the West Horn and scrambled, unroped, up the gully and crossed over and turned the Horn.

I was feeling pretty happy that we were on-route; however, I hadn't been feeling well all morning and was moving slower than was ideal. I appreciated John's patience, and gave him pizza on the summit. Truth be told, my nerves had been haunting me since we left the car. I had not done muc climbing this Spring. I was pretty confident about my conditioning but, I knew that would only get me so far; the mental stress of the steep environment, the exposure, and the constant nagging doubts took a different kind of conditioning. I kept reminding myself that most of the climb was only 3rd & 4th Class, with some low- to mid-5th Class climbing - all well within my abilities. However, the creature within still picked at the tumor, that is doubt, as each chance arose.

We crossed a few more ribs and looked up to see a "notch", which I think we thought was Beckey's "tiny notch". We thought for a bit that we had accidentally done the Southside Bypass mentioned by Beckey, but realized a little later that we had indeed hit the W.R. notch. Thinking we were at the "tiny notch", I racked up and went up and right, thinking we would find the ledge which would lead us to the summit pitches (author's note: upon review of the route description, the direction I was headed would have put me on the Southside Bypass Variation). What I found was the point at which we should cross over to the North side of the Ridge; I brought John up. John racked up, crossed over and disappeared from sight.

Soon, he was off belay and I followed...oh, boy, that was interesting. This pitch nominated John for "scary move of the day": for me, this move entailed stepping down onto a 12"-wide ramp with no hands and walking across to two large blocks. Once I cleaned John's pro, I tried to figure out how he had climbed passed them (he told me that he had squeezed through sort of). I didn't see that and I ended up going out and around, hanging my ass out over the Stuart Glacier! I got to John, grabbed the rack and climbed a half-lead up to Beckey's "tiny notch"; there we dropped down, back onto the South side, and looked at out options. As John had said earlier in the morning, "the hardest part is there are so many options."

As we saw it, we could walk around on the ledge and go up, or we could find our way from where we were at (which Beckey says goes from 5.3-5.6). Given the time, and the proximity to the summit, we couldn't see the sense in traversing. John spied some good, blocky climbing so we decided to go up. John took the lead up a fun, interesting 5.4 corner to a ledge below another corner which had a slung block. I really didn't want to lead this pitch, but John was getting tired and I wanted to pull my weight. I passed the block and got into the corner, which was pretty crusted up with lichen. I voiced my lack of enthusiasm and John gave me the beta and encouragement I needed to pull the two-move wonder and get out of the corner (it was maybe 5.8). I moved up another 50', or so, and set a belay due to massive rope drag. John cleaned the gear and I got nominated for "hardest move of the day".

John meandered through the final blocks and reached the summit at 1800. We spent about 15 minutes on the summit, sharing pizza and water, transitioning into descent mode. I could not help reflecting on the fact that we had made it. On a certain level, it seemed a little surreal. How had we gotten so upside down during out last attempt? As I sat at 9,416' above sea level, I looked back on this climb and felt good about keeping the creature at bay. I had taken my pitches and pulled my weight.

The occasional cairn and bootprint led us towards the crossover into the Cascadian Couloir and onto the snow. After some initial crustiness, we got into some nice plungestepping snow and made good time. Unfortunately, where we needed to go there was no snow, bearing West into the lower part of the Cascadian. The snow did continue down the left fork, which appears to be "Variation No. 1" in the Beckey Guide. We decided to stay on the snow to make time and walk the extra distance on the Ingalls Creek Trail back up to the Long's Pass Trail. This proved to be the right thing to do. Again, finding the right bootprints and cairns took us down and out without a hitch! It was dusk under the trees, but we still had daylight.

The Long's Pass cutoff is clearly marked, the way across the creek is not. We did find a log crossing, just downstream, and then acquired the trail again and trudged off. I was feeling pretty beat by this time, but putting one foot in front of the other was working for me. We found and lost the trail several times before we broke out of the trees and onto the snow. We donned crampons and trudged up, up, up. The Pass appeared soon enough, and we started down.

I have had the "joy" of hiking down the Long's Pass & Ingalls Lake trails after dark, several times, and it gets longer every time. For the last quarter mile, I was having internal arguments about resting or going on. Make it we did, reaching the car at just about the stroke of midnight. 20 hours car-to-car, 9 hours on the route; certainly no record, but we did it...and found some redemption.

Back On The Rock

My buddy, James Nakagami, and I finally got together to do some rockclimbing. I didn't climb much in '06 but, lately, I've been wanting to get out. We both really love climbing at Index, WA, and made that our destination. Many people don't like Index; mostly, I think, they are intimidated by the grades. Index is 'Old School'. Guys from Washington went to Yosemite and learned how to climb cracks, and brought that knowledge home. Index is where they honed their craft, in a time when 5.9 was the hardest thing around. Nowadays we are poised on the cusp of 5.15 and modern 5.9 is watered down. If you want to know what real 5.9 is, climb Index 5.9. If you can lead "Index 5.9", there is a lot you can cover in the Cascades. Also, this will put you at a level to handle 5.10a/5.10b in Squamish, B.C.

One aspect of Index is that there are few climbs that the average gaper can do (5.8 or below); thus, these climbs get crowded on the weekends. We decided to avoid that crush and head to Private Idaho, a small crag about a 15 minute walk from the car. The crag was empty; we only saw a couple hikers the whole day. First up was "Senior Citizens in Space" (5.8); a sweet layback up an inside corner. Raising the bar a little, we moved left to "Battered Sandwich" (5.9); an interesting crack/layback to start leading into a flaring chimney. After a snack, we climbed both pitches of "Magic Fern" (5.9), an awesome (if somewhat seldom climbed) set of pitches which keeps giving all the way to the top.

After that, it was time to bail. Great weather. Thanks to James for ropegunning for me today.

1:19:58.81

Since my main riding partner, Mike, is out of the country for a while, I am competing against the clock when I ride up the Tiger Mountain Trail (Preston RR - NW Timber). I usually push myself to keep up with Mike but, solo I have to have something to drive me.

When we rode Tiger Mountain the first time this year, we slunk away after riding for 1-hr 33-min. and turning around before the top. Mike rode it the next day with Eric and they made the top in 1:33 (or thereabouts). For Mike's last ride, we hit what we call the Ultimate Poach. My next trip up Tiger was over a week later. Feeling sluggish in the aftermath of a cold, I was determined to beat 1:33. Working hard, and hacking up remnants, I posted 1:26:57. I knew it would go faster...even for this gaper.

Today, I was coming off of two days of a new plyometrics workout. My body was tired, but I actually felt strong the whole ride; I was pushing taller gears, and was able to take shorter breaks. Trail was muddy today, but not bad enough to really slow things down; just good old Springtime in the PNW. I hit the top of the NW Timber Trail in 19-minutes & change. After a brief rest, and a Clif Shot, at the bottom of the Preston R.R. Trail, I started climbing. Right away, Preston lets you know who is boss with a few railroad ballast rock gardens and a couple steep climbs. Once past those, it is a palatable grind interrupted by skill-building obstacles and bikers coming down. I took a brief breather at the "cattle fence", as we call it, and I saw I was at one hour total time. I was going to have to beat it if I was going to post a decent time. I kicked it down a gear, and pushed against the clock. This section always seems short on the downhill; you make it from the top to the fence in about 11 minutes. So, going up it I always think it is shorter than it is; I knew it was going to be close. I pushed as hard as I could, shifting into ever-lower gears as the terrain and my legs allowed. As you come around that final bend, you can see sunlight ahead shining on the road. I cranked for the road and hit the stop button on my watch as soon as I could: 1:19:58.81

It is always interesting to look at the things that drive us to excel. My goal of climbing the Tiger Mountain Trail in less than 80-minutes is totally meaningless. Proven more so by the fact that there are an untold number of riders who could smoke that time without breaking a sweat. That's fine, and I applaud them. For me on Tiger, it is to mark myself as better. Stronger. Faster. Not better than anyone else, but better than my previous efforts. With age, I've gained the humility to acknowledge that there are many out there better than I, stronger than I, and faster than I. That's okay. The competition that I seek is with myself.

300 The Movie

I saw 300, the film adaptation of Frank Miller's graphic novel (read: long comic book), recently. For those of you who don't understand 'graphic novels', or their screen adaptations, you may not like it. A 'graphic novel' is, essentially, a long comic book; thus, a film adaptation will include some animation, as well as some peotic license. Frank Miller also wrote Sin City, adapted for the silver screen in 2005.

300 is the story of Leonidas, one of two Kings of Sparta, leading 300 Spartans into battle against roughly 100,000 Persians, led by King Xerxes I in 480 B.C. This epic battle took place at the Thermopylae Pass, also known as the "Hot Gates" (so named because of hot springs nearby). As is implied by the name, Thermopylae Pass was chosen for its geography: bound by the sea on the South and cliffs to the North. By choosing this place for battle, Leonidas reduced the effectiveness of Xerxes' much larger force. So much so, that the Spartans (and Greeks) were able to hold the Persians off for three days.

The reason behind the choice of Leonidas to go to war with only his personal force of 300 Spartans is thought to be twofold: Spartan religious custom did not allow mobilization of the army at the end of the fighting 'season' (warring usually was not undertaken at the onset of winter). Second, the Oracle at Delphi most likely prophesied that Sparta would be saved if the life of one of its kings was given. The history reads a little differently.

Anyway, on to the movie: I loved it on several levels. First, it is a cinematic epic on the scale of Braveheart, Saving Private Ryan, Gladiator, et al. Like those movies, the heroes are larger than life, their exploits are those of legend, and the thematic scope is vast. The key that sets this movie apart from others is that the battle at Thermopylae actually took place. Certainly, Frank Miller took some liberties by adding monsters; as well, the screenwriters exhibited some license. It is movies such as this for which the silver screen was created. The creators deserve a large canvas on which to paint their cinematic masterpiece. The breadth of the Persian hoard can best be felt displayed upon the theater screen.

300 is an ancient and epic tale of honor, bravery, sacrifice, and courage. Massively outnumbered, 300 Spartan warriors marched, with roughly 10,000 Greeks, to meet the oncoming armies of Xerxes, the god-king of Persia. It's an underdog story. The script carried a perfect balance of action and plot/character devel0pment. The battle sequences were intense and bloody. In keeping with the graphic novel genre, the blood was a stylized anime; you knew it was bloody, but the gore factor was low.

I found the political and ideological messages underlying throughout the movie interesting. Freedom. Liberty. Honor. Fighting for what you believe in. Walking an unpopular path to follow your convictions. All of these were played out in the decisions of Leonidas, his wife, and the 300 Spartans. Did this come from Hollywood? I though to myself in the theater. Each one of these principles are in direct opposition of the Leftist Socialist Hollywood "Elite".

"SPAR-TAAAAA..."

UN Watch Shows the Light to the Blind

UN Watch shows the truth to the UN Council on Human Rights, and they refuse to see. It is interesting that the President of the Council is more concerned about the "harsh" language used in the speech than he is about the content.

www.unwatch.org

The John Doe Manifesto

Once, again, Michelle Malkin nails it...HARD:

The John Doe Manifesto
By Michelle Malkin

www.jewishworldreview.com
Note: Earlier this month, six publicity-seeking imams filed a federal lawsuit against US Airways and the Metropolitan Airports Commission in Minneapolis/St. Paul. The Muslim clerics were removed from their flight last November and questioned for several hours after their suspicious behavior alarmed both passengers and crew members. Minneapolis Star Tribune columnist Katherine Kersten reported last week that the imams, advised by the grievance-mongers at the Council on American-Islamic Relations, also plan to sue "John Does" — innocent bystanders who alerted the authorities about their security concerns. Rep. Steve Pearce, R-N.M., has introduced legislation to protect John Does who report suspicious behavior from legal liability. The Becket Fund for Religious Liberty; talk show host Michael Reagan; Dr. Zuhdi Jasser, who heads the American Islamic Forum for Democracy; and Minnesota lawyer Gerry Nolting have all stepped forward to offer free representation to the imams' targets.

Dear Muslim Terrorist Plotter/Planner/Funder/Enabler/Apologist,

You do not know me. But I am on the lookout for you. You are my enemy. And I am yours.

I am John Doe.

I am traveling on your plane. I am riding on your train. I am at your bus stop. I am on your street. I am in your subway car. I am on your lift.

I am your neighbor. I am your customer. I am your classmate. I am your boss.

I am John Doe.

I will never forget the example of the passengers of United Airlines Flight 93 who refused to sit back on 9/11 and let themselves be murdered in the name of Islam without a fight.

I will never forget the passengers and crew members who tackled al Qaeda shoe-bomber Richard Reid on American Airlines Flight 63 before he had a chance to blow up the plane over the Atlantic Ocean.

I will never forget the alertness of actor James Woods, who notified a stewardess that several Arab men sitting in his first-class cabin on an August 2001 flight were behaving strangely. The men turned out to be 9/11 hijackers on a test run.

I will act when homeland security officials ask me to "report suspicious activity."

I will embrace my local police department's admonition: "If you see
something, say something."

I am John Doe.

I will protest your Jew-hating, America-bashing "scholars."

I will petition against your hate-mongering mosque leaders.

I will raise my voice against your subjugation of women and religious
minorities.

I will challenge your attempts to indoctrinate my children in our
schools.

I will combat your violent propaganda on the Internet.

I am John Doe.

I will support law enforcement initiatives to spy on your operatives,
cut off your funding and disrupt your murderous conspiracies.

I will oppose all attempts to undermine our borders and immigration
laws.

I will resist the imposition of sharia principles and sharia law in my taxi cab, my restaurant, my community pool, the halls of Congress, our national monuments, the radio and television airwaves, and all public spaces.

I will not be censored in the name of tolerance.

I will not be cowed by your Beltway lobbying groups in moderates' clothing. I will not cringe when you shriek about "profiling" or "Islamophobia."

I will put my family's safety above sensitivity. I will put my country
above multiculturalism.

I will not submit to your will. I will not be intimidated.

I am John Doe.

'The Protector', starring Tony Jaa

Simply put, this movie is awesome.

Tony Jaa puts on a Muay Thai clinic as he delivers serious ass-kickery all across Sydney, Australia. A big part of the excitement associated with this picture is the display of Muay Thai; a more brutal cousin to the martial arts displayed by Jackie Chan in recent films. The fierceness and purity is reminiscent of Bruce Lee's big screen offerings. With the interest in Mixed Martial Arts (MMA) on the rise, a movie showcasing Muay Thai is just what the doctor ordered. Tony Jaa serves up elbows and knees about as often as McDonald's serves up Happy Meals.

Enjoy.

1098 Delivery Party

February 9th, I had the opportunity to attend an event celebrating the arrival of the first Ducati 1098 to Ducati Seattle. It is actually a 1098S, and the new owner was there to twist the throttle for all of us to hear. David Roosevelt, Owner of Ducati Seattle, puts on a great party with food from Outback Steakhouse and champagne (for this IS a celebration). There was a great display of Superbike history, from the 851 and 888, to the Original, the Classic: 916, and forward to the 996, 998, and 999. With minimal ceremony, a bike tech rolled the new 1098S out onto the sidewalk and pressed the starter...

I must say, here, that there is no sound like the beautiful symphony that comes from a dry-clutched Ducati motorcycle - a symphony with one section: Percussion. Regardless of exhaust choices, the Ducati L-Twin engine puts forth a low, musical energy liken to the combination of base and tomtom drums. Switch out that stock exhaust for some sweet Termignoni carbon fiber cans, and the bass drum/tomtom duet is joined by kettle drums - the sound is just deeper, fuller, and puts forth an expansive range. You feel it in your chest. It makes my wife, a dedicated Ducatista, swoon. At the other end of the percussion section, holding its own rhythm, is the sweet 'tang, tang' of the dry clutch; a holdover from Ducati's racing roots. From the factory, the dry clutch is muted behind a solid steel clutch cover. But, as so many of us do, replace that with an aftermarket open cover, and you've just turned your Clutch Section up to '11'. Sitting in neutral, you are treated with the sharp rimshots of a snare drum. Engage the clutch and that snare is joined by an equally sharp set of cymbals. Ah, heaven!

But, I digress. The 1098S, with Termignoni carbon fiber slip-ons, delivered as only Ducati can...that beautiful pompone sound. The owner stepped up and twisted the throttle several times. There are only two words I can use to describe it: crisp and musical. The clutch was understated; give it a few thousand miles, they get louder with age. Back inside, it was easy to look the bike over and see the roots of its design. As a nod to Sr. Massimo Tamburini, and The Classic 916, Ducati returned to dual horizontal headlights and a side-by-side exhuast. The single-side swingarm, as well, harkens back to 1994, when the 916 was released on the motorcycle world. In keeping with the advances brought forth with the Art Deco-inspired 999, the 1098 bares crisp lines, modern features, and pragmatic accoutrements. In all, something for every dedicated Ducatista.

Once again, Ducati has set the bar a notch higher. In a small factory, outside of Bologna, where craftsmanship takes precedence over production, a small Italian manufacturer does battle with the motorcycle 'Big 3': Yamaha, Honda, & Suzuki. Taking the World Superbike Championship in 2006, and making it to the top 10 in the MotoGP Premier Class for the past four years, Ducati is definitely giving the rest of the world a run for its money. And, now, the 1098 hits the world stage. Weighing in at 377-lbs. and producing 160-hp with 90 ft-lbs of torque, the 1098 puts the 'Super' in Superbike. I will leave you to calculate the power-to-weight ratios.

Rainier Sunrise

Descending from the entrance to the Gib Ledges just after sunrise. Poor snow conditions turned us around at 11,000'; we sat out the night huddled on a ledge. Photo taken in April 2004.

Looking back on 2006

2006 was an eventful year for our little household.

Anastacia finished her didactic year in the University of Washington Physician Assistant Program. To say that she was stretched in every way possible, is an understatement. She finished with great grades. The summer was a welcome respite for her, and a chance to visit family back East.

I took up mountain biking and had the great opportunity to ride with my friends Ray & Mike. Mike was headed overseas mid-summer so, we hit as many rides on his "list" as we could. Ray and I hit some great rides down off of 410, near Mt. Rainier, and over the pass near Lake Wenatchee, as well as some good local mid-week riding.


June 29th, we picked up the latest addition to our family: MARJAN's Happiness is a Warm Gun, aka "Reagan". He was 18# of joy when we brought him home at 8 weeks; at 9 months he is pushing 70#, and still growing. He has been a joy for me to train, as he tries hard to learn and responds very well. I've taken a more serious, comprehensive approach to training Reagan than I did with Sasha; partly, because I am more serious about birdhunting, and I also see the value of skills that I didn't train in Sasha. It has been a challenge having two Chesapeakes in the house, but we love them both, and wouldn't have it any other way.

In July, I had a wonderful opportunity to travel to both Romania and Michigan to work on some incredible projects as an International Trainer for ECO-Block, LLC. In Romania, I worked with ICF ECO Construct (Bucharest) to build the first ECO-Block house in the country of Romania. It was an interesting challenge to work with a non-English speaking crew. However, I found that the fundamentals of construction are universal (and they gave me a wonderful translator, Oana Valeria Jancu). My clients were wonderful hosts, showing me the sights of their beloved country, of which they are so proud. Their hospitality worked: I fell in love with the country, the people, and the food! I left feeling like I had made some great new friends. On to the U.P. of Michigan for a week working with a crew on 16" thick walls at the Bay College, West Campus Building in Iron Mountain, MI. We poured on the fifth day, and I considered the training a success, not without challenges.

Over Labor Day Weekend, we found ourselves winging to Springfield, MO, for the Howell Family Reunion. This was my chance to meet many members of Anastacia's extended family. It was a fun-filled weekend with family; a great chance to meet some of the characters Anastacia has told stories about.

In September, Anastacia and I celebrated our one year wedding anniversary, happy as ever was. Soon after, Anastacia started her clinical year of her P.A. program. To date, she has worked a month each in hospice, emergency medicine, psych., general surgery, and (of this writing) is in neurosurgery. This fall also held new challenges for me. I have been working on a $4M renovation of the Mercer Island Country Club as the Project Engineer. The superintendent I had been working with decided to relocate his family to Colorado. Looking at my career goals, my boss and project manager decided to turn the remainder of the project over to me in the field. So, I am the project superintendent now; it has been a great challenge, and a wonderful learning experience.


Sasha and I did some pheasant hunting, without much success. We got our first bird in Goldendale. Reagan got to tag along on the hunt, as well. Pheasant hunting in Washington can be a somewhat frustrating affair, as the bird populations are declining and the planted birds can get harvested rather quickly. Late in the season, it really struck me that duck hunting would be a fun activity, and a lot more productive. Besides, I own the hardiest breed of waterdog on the planet: Chesapeake Bay Retrievers.

Thanksgiving saw us in elk camp outside of Seneca, OR, again, and we had a nice, quiet Christmas at home with our friend, John. At the end, it was a great year.