Because It's There

I always thought the response "because it's there" was a crazy answer to the question "why did you climb the mountain?" But over the past five years I have come to understand "Because it's there" just acknowledges that something has challenged you and, no matter how crazy it seems, you have to do it.  I ran solo across Badlands National Park. I also ran the 45 mile Eagle Rock Loop in Arkansas solo in 15 straight hours. I went scuba diving in a 500' deep lake fed by glaciers and snow melt where the water temperature at the surface on July 5th was 40 degrees.  All my life I had found it necessary to "play it safe" because I had a family to consider. That ended when my children all had their own families and I was on my own. Today Pamela and I travel the west, volunteer at national parks, and pack all the life we can into every day. You only go around once. No returns for the I-wish-I-hads. 

Bright red is my route up. Burgundy is my route down with fewer cacti.

Today I was just out looking for some gemstones on the side of the mountain. I kept getting attracted to natural features further and further up the mountain. Before I knew it I was standing at the top of one of the peaks. Granted that the climb was just a wee bit over 1,000 ft above the campground, and my friends who are real mountain climbers wouldn't consider this more than a stroll, I don't think it was bad for an arthritic old man. I ended up taking the hard way up because I wasn't really planning to go to the summit. I wasn't as worried about falling as I was of hitting all the cacti on the way down, so I took a much longer route down that had less cacti.  When I got close to the top it became a matter of "because it's there." 

 The picture above makes it look like a gentle grade on even terrain.  As you can see from the two pictures to the left, that isn't exactly true. I was off trail and had to contend with all sorts of obstacles.

The picture to the right is of my final ascent to the saddle which was just before the rock-climb to the summit.  I did not go back this way. LOL.

To the left is a selfie as I was just below the summit. I didn't try to get a picture right at the top because it was pretty windy and I didn't want my hat to beat me back to the bottom.

The picture to the right is the last 20-30 yards climbing over large boulders. It wasn't quite as bad as it looks. They were large.

Another selfie near the summit. I picked this one because you can see the valley below. The valley is about 4200 ft elevation. The campground where I started is 4600 ft. The summit is 5,680 ft. 

The mountain is one enormous gemstone. I saw obsidian outcropping the size of a pickup and walls of Jasper. The park lets you take stones but there is a weight limit. I see why.  

To the left are some stones with great examples of Jasper  and stratification. The picture to the right is an outcropping of obsidian. This isn't the biggest, but the one I encountered that was the size of a pickup was toward the top of the mountain and I rather had my hands full.  

The Walk

The ground is firm under my feet as I walk the well used trail through the woods. The loblolly pines have made a fine mat of needles on the forest floor around me. Their reddish brown bark hangs like scales while their tufts of branches and long dark green needles are high above my head. But I can tell when the canopy is thin without looking up. Wherever the canopy is a bit thin there is a small cluster of seedlings all vying for that bit of sunlight.

There were supposed to be animals in the bayou. Everything from bear to alligators. I didn't see any. There was lots of hunting. I wondered if they were in hiding. Animals are smart, you know. When you visit a large national park where they're not allowed to be hunted they don't run and hide. You get to live together in peace. That's not true elsewhere.

I know that killing another animal for food is part of the cycle of life. I am well aware that if the carnivore predators disappear the herbivore ungulates overgraze and you end up with an environmental mess. Human created such a disaster by purposely killing off all the wolves in Yellowstone. It reversed and balance was regained when the wolves were returned. I happen to be a omnivore, like kiááyo - the bear, but I have a distinct advantage. I have all sorts of food sources and options, and I have the ability to make a conscious decision not to kill other sentient beings.

Stopping on a small rise above a campground I see the signs in the earth. Deer tracks. It had been raining for a couple of days so the tracks were very distinct even though some of them were hidden in the grass and pine needles. It looked as if the deer had stayed looking down at the campers stamping her or his feet. Were they upset or frustrated by the human presence. No matter. The tracks turned and led off in another direction. I didn't follow.

I can't help but think of how humans will purposely kill an animal for no reason other than "sport" or to purposely exterminate the species. Then we act like we have been burdened by the responsibility to "thin the herd" of ungulates to "maintain balance." If we had stayed out of it in the first place and only hunted to put food on our tables, we wouldn't have created the problem.

As I stop to admire a small pond I try to redirect my thinking. It is hard. I get so angry with my species. We have such potential and we blew it! We've become an insidious invasive species yet we're so arrogant that we think we're saviors. I look around. I fantasize about having so much money that I can buy up vast tracts of land to save them from my own kind. But the fantasy is short lived. The signs of death are all around me . . . the rusted fence running through thick forest . . . high fences topped with razor wire surrounding an open area filled with piles of gravel and equipment . . . slabs of concrete dumped . . . once clean water polluted and stagnant. And we haven't even gotten near the urban sprawl where lots are almost an acre, trees are cut, the environment ignored to make space for a gigantic houses built for two. Two?!

I hang my head and move farther into the forest. I can't stand straight. The sense of despair is too great. I love to admire all that is around me as I walk or run through the woods, but right now I keep my eyes to the ground because I can't bear to look at what my species has done. The shame is almost overbearing. I want to escape from reality but I know that no matter how far into the forest I go I will still be the same. I can not escape myself.

I stand on a ridge looking out over beautiful trees and meadows. I see the birds. I smell the nature. I beg forgiveness but to no avail. This marvelous sight may well be gone before my name is forgotten, and I am helpless to stop it, but I share in the blame because no matter what I do the reality is that I am a homo sapien - a human - an interfectorem terrram, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . an earth-killer. 

Fire and Rain

It has been raining constantly for two days. This is the beginning of day three and the radar shows a solid mass of rain storm stretching from San Antonio, Texas to Huntsville, Alabama. As it pushes northeast I'm sure that it is both helping and hindering the efforts around Gatlinburg, Tennessee. As I look at the radar I can't help feel sad for those folks. They need the rain to not only extinguish the fires but to put out hot-spots. They don't need the rain as they struggle to get to their homes and dig through the debris to find whatever of their past lives can be salvaged.

Over the years I have experience fires and disasters in many different ways. For some years I was a volunteer first responder. I have witnessed some horrendous sights I have no desire to remember nevertheless describe to you. But I do know that the sight of broken lives isn't greater or lesser according to the number of people. It doesn't matter if it is one family huddled together, hanging on each other for emotional more than physical support or an entire town. It doesn't matter whether homo sapiens are my least favorite animal. That has no bearing on my compassion for their pain.

I have walked for miles through charred forest following a fire but there I found new life and hope. Therein lies one of the great weaknesses of developed human society. For the humans, fires, great and small, are a disastrous terminal event. For the rest of nature fires are a natural cyclical event which bring new life. Some species of trees, like the giant sequoias and the lodgepole pine, actually need fire to reproduce. If it is hundreds years between fires that's how long they wait. This is nature and all living things, save one, accept it without complaint and may even turn it to their advantage. Sadly, over the centuries, humans have worked to remove themselves from nature and such cycles. The result isn't an improvement upon nature but a self-made chink in our natural defenses and our natural ability to adapt.

Please don't misunderstand me. I feel the pain of those who lost their homes and I have compassion. At the same time the naturalist/philosopher in me says that humans are at the root of their own demise and such events, as sad and painful as they may be, are wake-up calls to learn to live with nature, not in opposition to it. I feel most sorry for those who don't, won't or can't understand this.

Some years ago a large sub-division was built on a flat area of northern Alabama near Huntsville. There were a great many new homes all costing well over $200,000. Northern Alabama, especially around Huntsville, holds the record for annual tornadoes. One year, when all of these homes were quite new, there was a day when Huntsville had some twenty tornadoes go through. Every home in the sub-division was destroyed. It was as disaster of tremendous proportion. The people rebuilt their beautiful expensive homes. The next year - almost a year to the day - their homes were again destroyed by tornadoes. What did it take two years and unbelievable pain and sorry to learn?

I don't hang on the news, quite the contrary, but I haven't heard a thing about Gatlinburg since Dolly made her marvelous offer and the people were allowed to go back.

That's the problem with disasters. It is all we hear and, for those of you with television, see until the dramatic photo-ops and harrowing stories are past. Then it is like the disaster is over. After all, who wants to see heartbreaking pictures or listen to tearful descriptions of the aftermath. There is nothing sensational about that. The media move on to the next scenes of flames, blood and gore. I have a strong feeling that American children today have the idea that once the storm or the fire or the disaster has passed everything is back to normal. In fact, I would suspect that many adults have no comprehension because the media doesn't deem the aftermath newsworthy.

I'm sitting here on the main channel of the beautiful Tennessee-Tombigbee Waterway - a navigable waterway that goes from the Gulf to the Tennessee Valley - sipping my morning coffee and watching the enormous barges and multi-million dollar pleasure craft go by and listening to the rain. It is so peaceful that it is tempting to think no more about what is happening a few hundred miles away. I have two choices. I can push my thoughts of the people in Gatlinburg from my mind like a passing vignette, or I can write a blog highlighting an easily repairable flaw in human society and remind people that, if we insist upon separating ourselves from nature, we must be prepared to share the pain of those who suffer. Gatlinburg's pain is far from over and the work to recover has just begun. Don't forget them because the media has moved on.

   

A Young Woman is afraid. What can I say?

     My cousin's daughter expressed feeling unsafe since Trump's election.  I can understand. Many of us are afraid. We shouldn't be afraid in our own homes, but we are. This young woman felt that she had to look like someone she wasn't in the hopes that her true identity as a lovely, intelligent, educated, open-minded, liberal, and independent young woman would not attract those who have found justification for their bullying, intimidation, and assault.

     A friend and supervisor of ours, who is a trained and experienced Ranger, made a statement about being alone at a remove campground when law enforcement (LE Rangers) was not readily available.  We had been talking about our idea of opening this campground earlier in the season for the hikers and bikers that enjoy the Going-to-the-Sun Road when it is closed to auto traffic. Since LE Rangers are the ones you call when you're dealing with a bear or other dangerous animal in your campground and the campground of which we were speaking is known for lots of bear encounters, I assumed that our friend was speaking of the need for LE for this reason. When I said as much she just laughed. She said that she had no problem with wild animals. They were quite predictable and had good reason for their behavior. It was the humans that concerned her. She had a point. We are all trained to deal with indigenous animals, and the only ones we ever find scary is the invasive species known as homo sapiens.

     Now, with Donald Trump's election, sexism, racism, and all sorts of heretofore unacceptable behavior has been legitimized.  Pamela and I have been yards from grizzly bears and toe-to-toe with numerous black bears. We have been stalked by mountain lions and I've encountered wolverine and coyote while on trail patrol.  However, I never found myself as uncomfortable or feel in as much danger as I have encountered around fanatic Christians and Trump supporters since the election. We are so fortunate that we have the ability to disappear into the wilderness where Kiaayo and Omahkapi'si will be good neighbors and not care about our race, religion, gender, political position or sexual preference.

     I am at a total loss what to say to my cousin's daughter.  I wish that I could tell her that she's just over-reacting to a few isolated incidents. We all know that wouldn't be true.  The hatred, demeaning rhetoric, and violent behavior that we witnessed at Trump rallies is now spilling into the streets with a vitalized sense of legitimacy.  If Mr Trump can make fun of a handicapped person on national television, shouldn't anyone be able to mock him/her at school, work or in a store.  If Mr Trump permitted and on at least one occasion encouraged followers to physically abuse and beat up on someone who disagreed with him in a rally, why shouldn't everyone be able to do so at any other time?  If Mr Trump tells us that immigrants, Muslims, LGBTs and anyone who is different from us is bad,  why shouldn't one be permitted to tell them to go away, or leave the store, or get out of the way? They're just bad people. Mr Trump said so. Why shouldn't one be permitted dto kick a Muslim who is kneeling to pray? They don't worship the right god. Besides, we all know that they're all terrorist.  Mr Trump said so.  Why shouldn't one demean the immigrant working at a McDonald's or cleaning rooms? She's probably undocumented and is taking an American's job.  I could go on and on and on, but I won't. You know what I mean. You've seen it.  Don't try and deny it.

     You see, when the similarities to other atrocities in history is pointed out many people are quick to say "that couldn't happen here."  Right.  When I lived in Dublin I knew a great number of German immigrants. Most of them left Germany in 1929.  Hitler didn't actually become Chancellor until 1933.  They left because they saw Germany blindly carrying on thinking Hitler was a joke that would go away.  In fact, in one of Hitler's interviews shortly after he took power, he chided those who doubted that he would rule Germany.  "At the risk of appearing to talk nonsense I tell you that the National Socialist movement will go on for 1,000 years! ... Don't forget how people laughed at me 15 years ago when I declared that one day I would govern Germany. They laugh now, just as foolishly, when I declare that I shall remain in power!" (Adolf Hitler to a British correspondent in Berlin, June 1934)  

     To my cousin's daughter I can only say 'you are not alone.'  I must, however, admit that she has good reason to feel afraid but to remember, we can survive this nightmare and we can prevail. It will require that we all stick together and call tyranny by its real name.

US President - Blind Trust - Conflict of interest

There is no requirement for the President to use a blind trust to avoid conflict of interest. Almost all other federal employees are required to divest themselves of potential conflicts. The President of the United State has traditionally resigned from any position - e.g. being a part of a legal firm, positions on corporate boards - that might cause a conflict and put business assets into a blind trust.

"A blind trust, as discussed in this report, is a device employed by a federal official to hold, administer and manage the private financial assets, investments and ownership of the official, and his or her spouse and dependent children, as a method of conflict of interest avoidance. In establishing a qualified blind trust upon the approval of the appropriate supervisory ethics entity, the official transfers, without restriction, control and management of private assets to an independent trustee who may not communicate information about the identity of the holdings in the trust to the official. The trust is considered “blind” because eventually, through the sale of transferred assets and the purchase of new ones, the public officer will be shielded from knowledge of the identity of the specific assets in the trust. Without such knowledge, conflict of interest issues would be avoided because no particular asset in the trust could act as an influence upon the official duties that the officer performs for the Government."

In the past, the President-elect established his blind trust during the transition period. Guess who has had no such trust. You guessed it, President-elect Donald Trump. He says that his children are going to run his businesses. Does that sound like divesting yourself of potential conflicts of interest? It doesn't, especially when you have your children present at a meeting with a foreign dignitary.

The Washington Post reported on a CNN interview of Rudolph Giuliani by Jake Tapper. Here is an excerpt from that report.

"Good-government types were already crying foul over Donald Trump's intention to put his children in charge of his business during his presidency. And now that those same children are on Trump's transition team, these groups are even more concerned about conflicts of interest. Trump loyalist Rudolph W. Giuliani seemed to acknowledge in a CNN interview Sunday that it wasn't an ideal set-up. But then he offered a remarkable defense. "He would basically put his children out of work if — and they'd have to go start a whole new business, and that would set up the whole — set up new problems,"Giuliani said on "State of the Union." Giuliani added: "It's kind of unrealistic to say you're going to take the business away from the three people who are running it and give it to some independent person. And remember, they can't work in the government because of the government rule against nepotism. So you would be putting them out of work."

I could be totally heartless and say 'oh, let's have a pity party for Trump's adult children who can probably go a good four years on the change in their pockets', but I won't be quite that bad. I will admit that I don't care what Trump's children do during his presidency. They are adults. They can find jobs like the rest of us commoners. They weren't elected and providing for their employment is not the responsibility of the US government or the American people.

I am more concerned about the consistent resistance Donald Trump has to anything which avoids a conflict of interest. I'm not surprised. He has consistently demonstrated that he believes himself above the law. Hail, King Trump! Bheadh ri Trump, beidh mé ag iarraidh i gcoinne tú.

Bheadh ri Trump, beidh mé ag iarraidh i gcoinne tú.

Pax Americanus - is it time again?

I'm sure that people who follow me aren't surprised to know that I journal.  It took me several years before I really got into the habit. I will go for many days, maybe weeks, without writing anything of interest or merit, but last night I blogged about feelings and reactions on the first day after the election.

Many of my friends spoke of "being in mourning". It was interesting that they chose the word "mourning" to describe their feelings quite independently of one another.  I was also struck by the fact that this is the second time in recent history where a Democrat has won the popular vote but a Republican had the electoral votes to win the election. What is ironic is that this phenomena just allowed Donald Trump to become President when he complained about the Electoral College and wanted it disbanded in 2012.  Enough about that.

What really started me writing was what I found myself writing in my journal. What follows is a direct quote from my personal journal Wednesday, November 9th.

"Posted video of Peter, Paul and Mary singing 'If I had a Hammer.'  Later realized that there are very few of us who were a part of that revolt.  I asked 'is it time again?' but who knows what that means? The generation that pulled that off are all in our 70s.  Even Pamela's age group - the young ones during the protest - are in their 60s.  Don't think we have it in us to do it again.

"So many my age have lost the fire and become the 'establishment' against which they protested.  At Mary Travis' memorial Bill Moyer, a journalist, said to the crowd 'this looks like a class reunion of the Nixon enemy list.' (A list contrived by Nixon of his enemies.)  All old like me.  I'm sure Donald Trump already has a well established 'enemy list' - i.e. people he hates because they oppose him. Hope my name is close to the top of page one.

Like our first struggle for human and civil rights in the 60s,  I refuse to be sucked in by hatred. I will put a flower in Trump's lapel - maybe even give him a kiss - but I will not join his hatred nor will I legitimize his bigotry, sexism, racism, etc.  Trump has clearly illustrated that he wants to take this country back into the 1950s, which were good years for a select few. I will not quietly give up what minimal gains we've made in the areas of civil/human rights, sexism, environment, etc. Neither will I give Trump any excuse or justification for the violence he has shown at his rallies capable of perpetrating against innocent people."

Guess I should sign this
With love,
A 70 year old hippie.

P.S.  Upon hearing what I was writing Pamela commented about the divisive hate which we are seeing festering. To summarize what she said - 'to hate the haters is hatred.'  That was one of the hardest things of the 60s; viz. not to hate or be overcome by hatred.  I didn't like Regan or the Bush boys because of their love of war, but I didn't hate them and wasn't afraid of them.  I am afraid of Donald Trump. Watch his rallies and listen to his rhetoric. He is very efficient at creating and using hate. Those of us who oppose this man musts work doubly hard not to get sucked in by his hatred. For the younger generations, it's like Luke Skywalker resisting being sucked into hatred of the Emperor. If he allowed himself to hate, he was doomed to be just like the emperor.

The Climb

Don't ask me why, but I looked around before I stepped off the asphalt path onto the almost undetectable trail. Perhaps it is because stepping off the asphalt is like escaping ... slipping away from so-called civilization into a world seldom explored by people. As I thought about it, it is a selfish act. I don't want anyone to see me because I don't want anyone to follow me. I'm going up to a realm where the higher I go the fewer people I will see.

Almost immediately I pass through a line of trees and shrubs which hide me from any questioning eyes. Have you ever tip-toed past someone in a game of hide-and-seek and felt that excited tension in your stomach? It is so intense as I scurry to safety behind the trees. "I made it," I think to myself. I got away without being seen. At that point there is the sense of relief. You feel like a puddle on the ground as all of the tension in your body and the fear in your brain is released and runs out of you. At least that's how I felt. It was so intense and so overwhelmingly uplifting that I had to stop for a while to enjoy it and to regain my composure.

As I stepped out on the trail and looked up at the mountain I became giddy. I've never been stoned but I can't imagine a drug high to be any more enjoyable. Give me my 'far-away-from-civilization-enjoying-the-solitude-and-excitement-of-the-wilderness' fix and I'll be happy.

The path leads through acres and acres of high alpine meadows. From the magnificent color and rugged terrain you'd never guess of the struggle for survival that goes on here constantly. I am careful to stay on the path. A long-term trampling study that was conducted at Glacier National Park in northwestern Montana found that a single foot print on sub-alpine vegetation can take 50-80 years to recover. That time is almost doubled for the high alpine vegetation. Yes, some vegetation is lost when indigenous animals walk and feed on the meadows, but their presence is a part of the balance and helps the vegetation survive. For example, hooves and bear claws prep the soil for seeds and provides oxygen. Human foot prints just destroy. Nothing more. We are the destructive intruder into this world and I try my best to makes a minimal impact. Staying on the trail is the best start.

That isn't always the easiest thing to do. The local animals also like the trails and there are times when I must share with a big Billy or some other animal. I have had more times than I can count where I had to carefully step onto a large outcrop of rock and permit the animal have the right-of-way. They give me a wary glance as they pass but, for the most part, ignore me. I stand in awe.

As I move through the meadows I scan the horizon for large ungulates, bears, mountain lions and other animals for whom this is home. Up here I've seen the illusive and magnificent wolverine as well as the majestic grizzly bear. You don't see the mountain lion, but they see you. They are always in predator mode. I usually count on the marmot, columbian ground squirrel and other small animals to let me know if there is a predator in the area.

After the expanse of meadows I pass along a very open ledge. On my left is a steep outcropping of rock which creates countless small waterfalls as water makes its way off the mountain. There is one stream which is wide and deep enough to force me to ford. To my right the rocky meadow drops off sharply and disappears about thirty yards away where it drops two to three hundred feet.

The trail begins its steep ascent. I climb from one narrow ledge of bare rock to the next. I am well aware that I'm walking on some of the oldest rock on earth. I am on rock that is billions of years old. This is rock that, elsewhere, would be found many hundred of feet below ground, not the better part of a mile and a quarter up.

All round me are rocks that indicate that this area was once at the bottom of an ocean some eighty miles west. There are large boulders that show the cracks that form when mud dries in the hot sun. There are also those that display the ripples created by millions of years of wave and tides. Then there are the stromatolites. Stromatolites are the fossils of the oldest living organism on the planet. The cynobacteria that died and formed stromatolites are responsible for there being air on planet Earth. On a previous climb I had found stromatolites a few hundred feet from the top of the mountain. This day I discovered an entire band of them at about 7,000 feet which could be followed for quite some distance.

I found myself so immersed in ancient ancient that I almost expected to look up and see some animal from the Cenozoic period checking to see if I am edible as I began to climb over large outcroppings. It wasn't long before I had to stop after each short ascent to look for the next best avenue to the top.

Many climbers just go across a scree field to a saddle between the two mountains and then up to the summit. I don't like to try to cross scree. I don't feel I have the skill and that scares me. The one scree field covers several acres with an elevation change between bottom and top of at least sixty feet. If you start sliding out of control on that scree field you have a very long drop at the bottom.

Even before you get to the top of the mountain you have a panoramic view in all directions.

People ask 'why do you go up there?' I laugh as I stand looking out over the great wilderness. The cold wind is painfully stinging any exposed portion of my face. I can't imagine how it would feel to be up here on a rainy or snowy day. But I look out at the wilderness world which I love. I see everything that is good and beautiful and positive in the world. Here and in that wilderness I feel free and I experience peace.

Why am I up here? I look back down toward the civilization where I carefully sneaked onto the path that brought me here. Why am I up here? The answer was simple . . . because "they" are down there.