Planet Zacchaeus

Everything comes to an end.

We got our earliest start of the trip on our last day, leaving camp before the sun hit it. The trail from Virginia drops pretty quickly to Purple Lake, and we arrived while it was still early. We paused for some photo ops and to admire a small family group of American Dippers (videos on Flickr) in the outlet stream before pressing on toward Duck Pass.


The trail to the pass climbs up above a thumb on the flank of the mountain between Duck and Purple Lakes before dropping again into some meadows along Duck's outlet stream. There it starts to climb again. Ascending through meadows and forests, you soon reach Duck Lake at the outlet end. We took off our packs at that point, had a snack and caught our breaths. We'd already traveled about half-way, about six miles. The last Wilson's Warblers of the trip foraged in the dwarfed Whitebark Pines and willows along the lake shore, and a beautifully white lone California Gull sailed down the canyon from Duck Lake.


From the outlet of Duck Lake, you climb up and follow the lake's shore about a mile to the pass. From there it's only 5 miles downhill, and you're home. We pressed on through lunch and arrived at the cabin - where the Profitas were staying for the weekend, but they were out - around 1:15, packed up, and headed for home (with a pit stop at the Ranger Station to change, use toilets(!), wash our faces, and return the bear cans).


The trip home was pretty uneventful. We listened to one of the Harry Potter novels on CD, and stopped for dinner at Rubio's in Adelanto. I remember when you had to eat at the Astro Burger in Kramer's Junction! Lots of people live in the high desert, now, though. On Monday, I went back to work. And that's the whole story.

The pictures from our last day can be found here: http://flickr.com/photos/rowleypics/sets/72157606574038434/

You can view all of the published pictures from our trip by clicking here: http://flickr.com/photos/rowleypics/collections/72157606431454213/

All through Torrey and even afterwards I've always heard "Oh, you can't ever have Cartesian certainty." "I could always be mistaken, you know." etc...

I don't know how people can be happy with this position since it is essentially intellectually dishonest. You either never have Cartesian certainty or you sometimes do. That exhausts the issue. If you sometimes do, then there isn't a problem. Therefore, if there is a problem we can be certain you can never have Cartesian certainty. If that isn't an instance of Cartesian certainty, then I don't know what is. And, that is precisely the problem.

People don't have any idea what they mean by that phrase "Cartesian certainty." All they know is that they have some kind of vague doubt in the back of their mind that they don't think about logically. But once you do, poof! it disappears. So, if you are troubled by your lack of Cartesian certainty, apply some logic. "But, I am not sure logic is always correct!" Well, are you thinking about the logical thoughts that are actually happening in your head, or are you attaching the words "I doubt" to the word "logic?" There's a difference, you know.

Though, naturally, new for Libby, the last two days of our backpack trip were covering familiar ground for Dad and me. In fact, part of my first multi-day backpack trip traveled the trail from Tully Hole to Tully Lake. We'd now be retracing those steps in reverse.

The first half of the morning was easy hiking. The trail drops downhill parallel with Fish Creek - a rushing stream that drops precipitously down a narrow gorge of dark meta-sedimentary rock. Unlike the hard granite of most of the Sierras, this rock is softer, and the creek, earthquakes, and weather has ground it and blasted it into sharp spires and slabs.


The trail eventually reaches Horse Heaven meadow. Here, the trail flattens out a bit, and you and the creek descend at a more gentle pace down into Tully Hole. Tully Hole is a meadow in a deep depression between forested hills. It features large in our family lore because of its central location in the back country behind my grandparents' cabin. So it's sort of an iconic place, and its lush green fields are beautiful enough to warrant the attention paid it. Many travelers pass through it because the Muir Trail passes through it as it comes down from Virginia Lake and turns down Fish Creek a little bit before climbing over Silver Pass.


From Tully Hole, there's a steep climb that takes you up about 1,000 vertical feet of switchbacks on a hot and open hillside covered in sage and only the occasional stand of pines - welcome islands of shade, and an opportune place to catch your breath and a drink before pressing onward. Anyway, we grunted our way up and finished the hike before lunch, which we had on the shore of Virginia Lake before hunting out a campsite. We found a spot near a stock camp in the dry subalpine forests that surround Virginia Lake. We had lots of time, so we set up camp and relaxed. We soaked our feet in the lake, took naps, read books, and generally enjoyed a warm afternoon in the Sierras - with blessed few mosquitoes compared to Tully Lake!


That night was our last away from home, and Dad and I sat by the shore of Virginia Lake waiting for it to get dark. As the stars came out and the opposite side of the lake became shrouded with gloom, we sat silently, listening to the bats flicking about our heads. The wind died and the lake became totally calm; the reflecting stars on its glassy surface were a welcome last taste of serenity before returning to the bustle of regular life.

Pictures from the day (including a nice one of a Clark's Nutcracker) can be found by clicking here: Backpack Day 5.

Our fourth day was the shortest backpacking day of the trip. Joe had to leave as early as he could to make the long hike from Bighorn Lake to the McGee Creek trailhead. The remaining three of us were going to climb a knapsack pass above nearby Rosy Finch Lake to look back into the Laurel Creek drainage - a different Laurel Creek than the one above Convict Lake near Mammoth.

The morning was warm and calm, like all of our mornings. The weather on the trip was perfect. There were almost no clouds the entire trip, and the rains preceding our trip had scrubbed the skies clean of the smoke from all California's wildfires this year. It made for perfect reflections in the water.


The hike from Bighorn to Rosy Finch Lake is an easy gambol through grassy faults criss-crossing the glaciated granite bedrock. Rosy Finch Lake, just like Bighorn Lake, fills a granitic glacial bowl with little room to spare; its outlet stream spills right over the granite dam that creates the lake. This is really beautiful country, a melting pot of brilliant blues, whites and greens.

The pass we checked out that day is a potential backpacking route from Grinnell Lake to Rosy Finch Lake. It was one of the possible routes we could have taken on our trip, but we decided not to because the ascent from the Grinnell Lake side looked steep on the topo maps. It turned out that it was very steep, and it's a much easier ascent from Rosy Finch, but it was still too far for us to make it to Grinnell Lake and back, and then over Bighorn Pass to Tully Lake all in the same day.


So, we enjoyed the view from the pass and then went back, put on our packs, and headed to Tully Lake. The descent was a talus scramble that we alleviated by striking out across a snow field that allowed us to skip about half of the talus. At the bottom of the snow field we had our only lifer of the trip - a White-tailed Ptarmigan. A little baby grouse scurried by our feet, and after some patient searching Dad found the mother hiding in plain sight.


At the time I thought it was an out-of-habitat Sooty (Blue) Grouse, a bird that specializes in high mountain forest edges, and is the only native grouse in the higher altitudes of the Sierras. We were, however, miles from the nearest true forest, and it nagged a bit on my mind while we were up there. As soon as I had time at home, I started doing some research on Ptarmigans. Back in the early '70s, the Department of Fish and Game released about 70 White-tailed Ptarmigans into upper montane forests around Sonora Pass. The birds found their way up into the alpine meadows around Yosemite, where they are still apparently the most heavily concentrated. From there they've spread south, occupying suitable habitat - high alpine meadows - where ever they can find it. The Sierras offer a challenge to their survival, however, with heavier snow packs that last longer than the other mountain ranges they inhabit (the Rockies and north) and thus inhibit breeding, and dryer summers, that limit the kind of forage they require. As a result, they exist in the Sierras in the sparsest population density of any population, and during the summer they're most common around melting snow-packs; just the place we found one.


Anyway, we found a great campsite at Tully Lake. It was a horse camp in between the lake and the waterfall that comes down from Red and White into Tully's outlet - young Fish Creek. The only real drawback at Tully Lake was that there were swarms of mosquitoes. As the sun set, they came out in force, with clouds hovering around each of us looking for any chink the mosquito nets offered or for some spot where the DEET would rub off. We probably got the majority of our mosquito bites here. Still, it's hard to complain about mosquitoes when you're surrounded by such wonderful beauty.

Pictures on Flickr, as always. Click here: http://flickr.com/photos/rowleypics/sets/72157606520422797/

Today, the trunk… Tomorrow, Mt. Rainier!  Noah’s climbing.  He began to pull up a couple of weeks ago, and it’s been no stopping him since.  Once he discovered he could pull up on objects, he was climbing them.  His favorite is the trunk, but he also pulls up on the couches, chairs, bed, and bookcase.  He also started cruising (walking by holding on to furniture) within a day or two of pulling up.

Since he began to cruise, we started to wonder if he was ever going to start crawling instead of just scooting on his tummy.  However, we had no need to worry.  He now prefers to crawl up on all fours all the time now.  No more tummy time!  He likes to follow mommy all around the house, and laughs with glee if he finds her in a different room.

Our second night out I learned that Pikas may be somewhat nocturnal. One had a territory in a talus pile near our tent, and I heard its loud persistent call multiple times after the half-moon had risen. Sleeping isn't always easy on a backpacking trip. The morning bird song was restricted to some local White-crowned Sparrows, though the area was hopping with Wilson's Warblers, Gray-crowned Rosy Finches and a couple of Empidonax Flycatchers, too. Mott Lake was completely still that morning; it was beautiful.


As I mentioned, this was the first day we went off-trail. There's a faint use trail in a few places to Bighorn, but not at the points when it counts, and not very often. It was a beautiful hike, though, up through cool mountain meadows right at the base of some towering peaks. You have to climb a little to get out of Mott Lake's basin, but the hike along the meadows is through a generally flat glacial valley towards the outlets of Bighorn and Rosy Finch Lakes. From there, you cut back and the left up towards a large tarn before traversing over some faulted glacial boulders to get to the actual lake.


We had lunch at the tarn, and it wasn't very far from there to Bighorn, though it wasn't possible to just walk straight there. We did get a little off-target in our original attempt to reach the tarn, but it all worked out OK in the end.


Once we got to Bighorn Lake we did a dayhike up to the pass - Bighorn Pass - we were going to take the next day (Joe in the morning, us in the afternoon). It provided a great view of the backcountry behind Mammoth, an area that the Rowleys have been spending time in ever since Grandpa was a boy.


Then Libby, Dad, and I all hiked down a little and around and up to another little pass on the flank of Mount Izaak Walton. From there you can see Lake Izaak Walton, and more of the same backcountry as from Bighorn Pass. That was our last night with Joe, who had to get out of the backcountry earlier than us. Pictures of the day can be found at: Backpack Day 3.

No jolting alarm sounded with the sun on the first morning of our backpack trip - just a clear dawn and the faint sound of singing birds above the nearby rushing creek. We got up and going, enjoying the first of our many hot and slimy instant oatmeal breakfasts as we packed up our things and got ready to hike. On the positive side, the instant hot chocolate we had every morning never got old.

Wednesday was the longest of our hiking days. While we found a great campsite on Tuesday night, it wasn't as far as we had intended to have traveled. Nevertheless, we decided to stay on the trails and take the easy - though long - route to Mott Lake instead of a much steeper cross-country shortcut up to Grinnell via Laurel Lake. The developed trail took us down to nearly 8,000' before we gained back all of the elevation we'd lost in the day - and more - in climbing back up to Mott Lake.


It was neat to hike down Mono Canyon, though. The trail descended through many different types of forest - depending not only on elevation, but on the amount of water available. We passed from Lodgepole forests, through sage brush covered hillsides, grassy meadows fading into tall and stately aspen groves, and we even saw some of the biggest Red Firs I've ever seen in my life - probably nearly 10' in diameter!

We finally had to climb up and over a hill to meet up with the Muir Trail where it comes down from Silver Pass. That's where we had lunch - far from where we had begun the day. By that time my feet, hips and back were all in agony (and I don't think I was the only one hurting), but it's a wonder what a little rest will do! After lunch, we felt refreshed, which was good since we had to go up another series of switchbacks before getting into the relatively flat bottom of the canyon holding Pocket Meadow.


The Mott Lake trail from Pocket Meadow turned out to be in poor repair. It's basically a steep, deep and rock-filled gully that goes straight up the side of a forested hill. There are a few switchbacks and then it topps out in the glacial valley containing Mott Lake. There it winds through meadows and willows (overgrowing the trail) as it goes up several hundred-foot granite steps to the lake. Half-an-hour or so into our hike we found a fun rock-slide where Mott's outlet stream ran over perfect glaciated granite. We took the opportunity to clean some clothes and take a bath - spending hours in the warm sun and warmer than average (for the Sierras) water. Dad took the opportunity to go water sliding; you can see the videos in the Flickr set for the day. Click here: http://flickr.com/photos/rowleypics/sets/72157606467826844/

As the sun started to get a little lower, we thought maybe we should finish the hike. It turned out to be quite a long one still, at least two miles from where we had taken a bath (which we thought was maybe almost half-way of the projected two miles from Pocket Meadow to Mott Lake). As a result, we didn't arrive at camp until the dusk was lowering over the foothills in the distance. Such a short evening meant we didn't have time to do much between set up camp, make dinner, eat, clean and go to bed. But it was such a beautiful place that all the long effort of getting there was more than amply repaid, and Libby and my spirits were high as we climbed into our tent for the night. The next day would be our first day of off-trail hiking.

The first sound of the first day of our backpack trip was the trilling of our travel alarm. Little light was trickling in through our bedroom's western window, though a clear day was dawning outside, and it was a little difficult to roll out of our warm bed, fully aware this was the last time we'd be enjoy such a luxury for the next five nights. Nevertheless, we wrenched ourselves up and hurriedly got dressed and ready. Soon we were out the door with Grandpa (who generously provided us a lift) to pick up my Dad's old backpacking friend Joe Profita at the McGee Creek trailhead. Joe was going to have to leave the back country earlier than us, so he was going to leave his truck at McGee and hike to it on his last day. We'd keep going for two more days than him and end up at the cabin, again.


We picked him up without any trouble, and the sticky breakfast he provided from a Bishop bakery, and headed off to Rock Creek's canyon. We arrived at Mosquito Flat Campground - Mono Pass's trailhead - around 8:00, used the bathroom and tightened our hip belts. Snap! My belt's clip went flying through the air onto the parking lot's pavement.

OK, we wondered, what do we do, now? Joe had an extra clip in his truck, but that was an hour's round trip. None of us were carrying any extra hip belt clips, either. We spent half-an-hour trying different solutions until we set on a strap of Joe's that I could use to strap shut my clip. It took a lot longer to get my pack on and off every stop, but it worked perfectly in keeping my hip belt tight - which is the most important part of your backpack.


Finally, after the fuss, we set off for Mono Pass. We climbed up and out of the trees, through a few last tall Lodgepoles before entering the world of stunted Whitebark Pines. Amazing vistas opened up before us as we climbed slowly but steadily higher, providing needed consolation for our already sore shoulders, hips, and lungs. It took us about 3 hours to do 3 miles and more than 2,000' of elevation gain. About two miles in, we figured out Libby was carrying too much weight, so Dad graciously took her bear can for the rest of the trip, and we spread out a few of her other things to get her up the pass more comfortably. As we climbed, Clark's Nutcrackers became more common, and as we climbed into the pass's lower opening we saw the first of the many, many Gray-crowned Rosy Finches that populate the higher elevation areas of the Sierras.


Mono Pass is basically a desert, a flat low point on the crest filled with crushed granite gravel (the result of many harsh freezes and thaws over the years) and scarce scattered grasses and flowers - none of which reach higher than a few inches. We had lunch overlooking Summit Lake, and then began the long descent - equal in length and elevation to our morning's ascent - to Mono Creek. The long downward slog is hard on your feet, but easy on your lungs, and we eventually found a campsite down under the shadow of Mono Rock.


It was the only night we spent under 10,000', which meant that we could have a fire. It was relaxing to soak our feet in the creek and sit next to the fire, watching the light dim on Mono Rock while bats flicked around the sky. That night, Libby and I slept well. We knew we had a long way to go the next day.

I've put all the pictures from the first day up onto Flickr, and you can access them by clicking here: Backpack Day 1.

We actually drove up to Mammoth on Sunday morning. An early start got us there by lunch, and the trip seemed quicker partly because we were listening to The New Treasure Seekers, by E. Nesbit. Ever since Gabe gave us his old iPod, we've been enjoying free audio books via LibriVox. Nesbit's book was good, if typical of her rather unvarying style.

Our activities over the day and the half we spent at the cabin were pretty simple. Libby and I took a walk with Grandpa up Mammoth Creek looking for American Dippers, admiring flowers and checking out old prospects. We didn't find any Dippers, but we saw some other neat birds, including a Kingfisher, a possible MacGillivray's Warbler and a male Lazuli Bunting - by far the highest I've ever seen one. The flower display was spectacular, with dozens of Tiger Lilies growing along the creek.


We made it all the way to a waterfall that cascades down some old broken rock, and we got to see some old mine shafts dug into the rock that Grandpa remembered visiting while they were in operation and he was a boy. I took some pictures on our walk, which you can see here: Pre-backpack Set.


That night we sorted and packed all of our food, and the next day we went with Grandpa to gather wood, checked out some fumaroles bought some last minute supplies at the town's Rite Aid, and got our wilderness permit and bear cans from the Forest Service in town. I also picked up a neat book on the natural history of the Sierras that has distribution information on almost every type of critter that you can find in them there hills.

The rest of Monday we spent relaxing. I took a nap and read, and Libby took a nap and read. Oh, and I went to Emerald Lake early in the morning to look at birds. Lots of Wilson's Warblers, American Robins and Dark-eyed Juncos, but there were also a few Yellow-rumped Warblers, Orange-crowned Warblers, Thick-billed Fox Sparrows, and Pine Siskins around, too. Libby and I later found some Hairy Woodpeckers and a Williamson's Sapsucker just up the mine road in a stand of dead trees. The Sapsuckers that nested in front of the cabin for the last two years have unfortunately moved on.

We're back from our trip! We were gone from Sunday to Sunday, entering the back country via the Rock Creek Mono Pass on Tuesday, and re-crossing the crest yesterday (Sunday) through Duck Pass. We had a great time, and saw a lot of really beautiful things.

Here's a Google Map of our approximate route. There are a few funny things about Google's Map - in Terrain view it moves the Recesses into Mono Creek, and it misnames Rosy Finch Lake as Ross Finch Lake. If you click on the little tabs it'll give you information on some highlights of the trip - I've labeled all of our campsites and all of the passes we climbed.


View Larger Map

When I get the photos all uploaded to Flickr I'll post links and a little more information about the trip - maybe a short blurb on each day.

UPDATED

I decided my choice of words was too strong or irresponsible in certain cases. I.e. I don't know Heath Ledger actually committed suicide.


Anyways, I am not planning on watching the movie since I don't feel comfortable getting enjoyment watching Heath Ledger screw up his mind.

Think about it this way. Why do we not watch snuff movies? Because we think it is immoral to watch someone purposefully maim and kill themselves in reality purely for our enjoyment.

What is Heath Ledger doing in TDK? He is purposefully damaging himself for our enjoyment. He damages himself so much that he has to take a lethal dose of sleeping pills in order to sleep at night.

Does the fact that Heath Ledger damages his mind instead of his body reduce the moral impact of watching what he has done?

In fact, I say that it makes the impact more grave. The mind is much more integral to what we do than our bodies. If we will not watch someone mutilate their bodies because we think it will somehow damage us, shouldn't we be even more concerned about watching someone mutilate their mind?

Yes, we all know about the creation-evolution controversy. But, our over concern with that issue has blinded us to thinking about what happens when people take the spiritual realm as being scientifically credible.

Since the theory of ID claims that the human mind can create information, whereas the natural world cannot, the logical implication is that the human mind is not of the natural world. Thus, there is a above-nature world, i.e. supernatural world, where the mind resides. So, the scientific success of ID means the scientific credibility of the spiritual realm.

However, this is not all roses for us. Of course, this means the Christian worldview is now considered rational and scientifically investigatable. On the other hand, this also means the darker side of the spiritual world is also open to rational investigation. Now think, who else in recent history has tried to scientifically investigate the spiritual world, and what did they investigate? Been watching Indiana Jones recently?

So, you can see the dilemma. This is why Christians need to stop tip-toeing around the reality of spiritual power that Wicca is already investigating and really start doing some hard work in this area. We need to get there first and start laying down guideposts, or else others may end up lost in the dark woods, and much worse.

Sunday was a very special day in Noah’s life.  He was baptised!  Phil and I were able to bring him before our church and dedicate him before the Lord.

Right after Phil and I became members of our church, Pastor Kelly took Noah and asked us these questions.

1. Do you acknowledge you child’s need of the cleansing blood of Jesus Christ, and the renewing grace of the Holy Spirit?
2. Do you claim God’s covenant promises in his behalf, and do you look in faith to the Lord Jesus Christ for his salvation, as you do for your own?
3. Do you now unreservedly dedicate your child to God, and promise, in humble reliance upon divine grace, that you will endeavor to set before him a godly example, that you will pray with and for him, that you will teach him the doctrines of our holy religion, and that you will strive, by all the means of God’s appointment, to bring him up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord?

After we affirmed these statements, Noah was baptised.

This was a very different experience for Phil and I as we were not brought up in churches that practiced infant baptism, but after a lot of prayer and conversations with other believers, we decided that this would be the best thing for our son.  Infant baptism in the Presbyterian church is not one of regeneration (as it is in the Roman Catholic Church), but rather one where we look forward to the time that Noah will put his trust in Jesus Christ as his personal Savior and Lord.  He will still have to make that decision for himself, but it is our job as parents to pray for him that he may come to that saving knowledge.

We were blessed to have Phil’s mom, aunt, uncle, and grandma to be there, as well as my brother, Loren.  It was a very special time for all of us.

Since our lease on our Shoreline apartment ends in October, we’ve been looking at the real estate market for a while now. Mostly it was just research, keeping an eye on what kind of things were available at what prices, but last week we started actually visiting them in person. We were thinking for a while that we’d try to do the move in October right around when our current lease finished. But things don’t always work out like you think.

First we were taken around to a few places around North Seattle. Right before we left, we saw one listing in south Shoreline that looked interesting that had just been put on the market, but we were in a hurry and didn’t make note of it. The first few places we saw were all right, but nothing caught our eye. Then we scheduled a visit to the house that we’d just seen show up, and it was the nicest thing we’d seen at that price. A lot of work had just been put into it, and the sellers needed to get out in a hurry, so the price was great. We put in an offer on the very next day.

The next day we found out that ours was one of three offers. The market is currently pretty slow in this area, so having that level of activity within one week of putting a house up is virtually unheard of. We were given an opportunity to raise our offer, but it originally included an escalation clause that brought the offer to above the asking price, which was already cutting it pretty close financially for us. So we left our offer as it was and hoped for the best. The next day we found out our offer was accepted!

We’ll have photos on Flickr before too long. It has three bedrooms and a spacious yard with a great deck and patio, so there’ll be room for entertaining and for Noah to grow.

This will be an interesting few months for us since we do still have our lease. It will end up overlapping with our mortgage payments, so it’ll be a bit tight on money for a few months. But this is really an amazing opportunity for us, and having the overlap will make the moving process less hectic. The way the offer situation went made it very clear that we had done the right thing. Our offer was obviously neither too high nor too low. We’re really thankful for the way it worked out.

As a rule I don’t plan for anything further than a few years in the future, but this is shaping to be the first time since fifth grade that I would live in one place for longer than two years.

Any of you get strange group requests? What's special about papasans?

I uploaded a LOT more pictures up to flickr last night so feel free to go have a look at them. There's two new sets, and on the actual photostream there are more pictures than in the sets. The sets are Macro shots, and Abstract shots. I can guarantee some good pictures in both sets. (c: Thanks for taking the time to have a look!

Here's three of my favorites:

Kuya, Andrew, Brittany and I went and saw The Dark Knight last night. Wow...what a great movie! I won't go a lot into it because you should just go see the movie and enjoy it for yourself. Although, it was kind of sad for the obvious reason - Heath Ledger's last role before he died.

In fact, it was the role that brought about his death, and that raises some serious questions. How far do you really take your job? For Heath Ledger and the techniques he used in order to play his role effectively, he took it to his grave. It was a strong performance, though. I haven't seen a character so animated and convincing since Jack Sparrow's debut in Pirates of the Caribbean. But is it praise worthy? When people watch this movie, they are literally watching Heath Ledger lose his mind and - safe to say? - his humanity! I guess there are a lot of people who have lost their lives from doing their jobs (soldiers, police, athletes, missionaries, etc.), so maybe it's all conditional. I'm not sure what kind of answer I have for it, but it has come up in my mind lately because of this movie and Eric's mention of this issue.

So, Noah has the most fun personality.  He finds the most interesting things funny.  For example, today Phil went to the freezer to get an otter pop.  When he reached to grab one, they all fell on the floor.  Noah was watching, and he started cracking up.  So, Phil purposely let them drop again.  He laughed even harder.  So, now they are in the other room with Phil dropping things again and again with Noah getting more and more excited about it.

Other things that make him laugh:
- Having people jump up and down (thanks Joe!)
- Making a “plop” sound with our mouth
- Rubbing our noses into his cheek or tummy or kissing him on the neck
- His own sneezes or coughs.  He thinks that it is so funny when he does it the first time that he tries to repeat it afterwards.
- Any sort of quick movement we make directed toward him (as we saw with Loren).

Fun Times.

This past weekend I went up north to Seattle to be witness and celebrate David and Maria Elliott's wedding. I had a fantastic time, and the wedding was beautiful. I just loaded pictures of it up on flickr last night so go on and have a look! There are many more photos that I'll eventually get around to loading up, but the ones that are in this set are the most wedding related. Sorry I haven't titled the photos properly yet. 60 photos is a lot of titles.

Joe Bob's summary is that atheism doesn't have room for love. While pointing out that they all tend to be quite smart, he also points out a) they are behind the times and b) they have a strange vehemence when arguing with their opponents. It's also interesting seeing Sam Harris (or the Harrisy, as Joe calls him) is the bad boy among the atheists because he points out the emptiness of the atheist worldview and the possible validity of mysticism (though he thinks it is achieved through brain manipulation, not true spirituality). The article has a bunch of caricatures of the atheists as zombies, making the "deadness to love" point visually.

Over at rottentomatoes.com The Happening has 19%. After seeing it, I can tell I'm definitely not cut out to be a RT critic. OTOH, I wonder if there's some kind of ideological backlash going on.

Why are the areas targeted by the catastrophe the northeast of the US and France, some of the most environmentally earnest areas in the world? Why is the neural disorder suicide, i.e. choosing death over life? Why is it so important in the movie that children be produced, protected, and well behaved; and by a husband and wife who are reunited through the ordeal?

On its own rights, the movie is pretty clever. What movie, since The Birds, so effectively takes a genre intrinsically connected with either spiritual, monster, or human malevolence (i.e. malevolent wills) and instead casts all the frights purely in terms of natural causes? When have you last been frightened by the wind blowing through a peaceful field or a sunlight speckled forest? Especially inventive is how he creates typical horror images and sequences from his device, despite the complete lack of horror's bread and butter: Hell, witchcraft, psychopaths, etc. Like Herman Melville, Shyamalan has turned our view of nature on its head; and followed Flannery O'Connor in making the moral order an object of terrible, yet strangely absurd, respect.

So, while it may not be as mind twisting as the Sixth Sense, there is a lot of subtlety going on and Shyamalan has again produced an innovative movie with substance. Like Expelled's 9%, the huge discrepancy between the movie and the rating shows the critics are using their columns to criticize more than just the movie.

Finally, if you plan on watching the movie, be warned that it has an R rating for a good reason. Something I didn't realize before I went to watch it:P

Ms. Schubert, one of my Torrey tutors, has started writing articles at the Scriptorium, and here is a very interesting one about how gardening teaches one larger lessons about life.

I highly recommend these by Nate Bell:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IUv6b7Xk7t4

Items that are not waterproof:

1. Backpacks: zippers and seams.

2. Camera bag: not at all, but especially zippers.

3. Books: Hiking Guide, National Geographic Field Guide

4. Cardboard: MSR stove boxes become pulp in the rain.

5. Floppy-brimmed hats: they become sodden, droopy drips when drowned.

Items that are waterproof:

1. Backpacks: Pockets without zippers.

2. Raincoats.

3. MSR stove.

4. Our spirits!


Libby and I are going backpacking in a little more than a week. To prepare ourselves, we've been going hiking every weekend, running in the mornings, and going for long walks around La Mirada. But, how can you be ready to go backpacking if you haven't practiced carrying your pack?

This last weekend we resolved to put our gear, our hips, feet and shoulders to the test. We stuffed our backpacks full of whatever was at hand, threw them in the car and drove off to the local mountains. Our destination was Dollar Lake, a little puddle advertised in glowing terms by our hiking guide -- a sparkling glacial tarn in the local mountains -- the kind of lake that would be comfortable in the Sierras themselves. We got our wilderness permit, and we got our adventure pass, and, having been admitted by these sacred documents into the government's forests and wildernesses, we set out. Little did we know just what sort of adventure we were being admitted to!


The lake is 6.3 miles from and 2700' above the trailhead, between 9200 and 9300 feet. The plan was to take it slow, hike to the lake, where we could drop our packs, relax, read, make some hot lunch (we were bringing our new stove to give it a field test), and then head for home.

I knew there was a chance of rain. The weather forecast put the chance at 30%. 30% didn't sound so bad. I figured, if it did rain, it would be a sporadic and light thunderstorm. With that low of a probability it couldn't do more than get the trail dust damp, then evaporate, right? Wrong. It started raining at about 1:30, about a mile below the lake on our way up. It stopped raining about 7:00, as we got into the car. There were occasional breaks in between, but on the whole, it rained. It basically rained the whole time we were at Dollar Lake. It rained on us all 6 miles down the mountain. There was no lounging about in the mountain sun reading. We stopped, set up the stove, ate some much appreciated hot soup, packed back up, and hit the trail. We might have taken it slow going up, but we were in a fine hurry on the way down. Low on the mountain the trail dust had become slick, inch-deep mud. The last mile or so, we were wading through little streams of running water as they joined us in their bubbling haste to get down the mountain.

The lake itself? If it was in the Sierras, I'd pass by without giving much of a glance. It was a little mud puddle in a shallow glaciated depression (this is one of the rare instances of historic glaciation in the local mountains).


Overall, though, the trip was a success. We had a good time. The pine forests were beautiful, the air was sweet and clean, and we made it. We're a bit stiff and sore, now, and we were in pain, then, but in all we decided that the five dollars we spent on our Adventure Pass was a steal. That much adventure for five bucks? Shoot, that was easily worth twenty or thirty dollars!

Pictures from our adventure are at Flickr: Dollar Lake Hike.

Right now I'm sitting on the floor in the International Terminal of SFO waiting for my flight at 9:05 am to Seattle. Sure it's only 6:30, but better early than late, right? Thanks to Kuya, I got here very early. I hope that work won't be that bad today since I made him get up much earlier than is reasonable for a working man.

The last two weeks has been a dung-load of traveling. At some point in my life, I'll get tired of all the plane flights and road trips, but right now I've been surprised at how much I really enjoy being in constant motion. It does leaves me in a state unsettledness, which has its downsides (my room is suffering from neglect), but I don't know if I will have the energy later in life to do this much traveling; so I take every opportunity I can get.

Most of the trips I take have been because of business, whether it be for CityTeam or wedding photography, but all these reasons give me an opportunity to be in a completely different place with different people. I think I just like being somewhere that doesn't involve my everyday life. It's new, it's different, and that makes it exciting. But then again...what happens when being somewhere different becomes my everyday life? Traveling all the time could get wearing, but I haven't felt it yet. We'll see if it ever does. But heck, even sitting in airports is fun to me! I guess I'll just have to remember these days when I start to groan about the next plane fight I have to take.

Also, all the traveling is why my blog has been on hold a bit. And the pictures...the pictures! I need to update all of it, but I'm trying. Of course, I always say that. Anyway, Luke should be landing in SFO from LAX any time now. I should be looking out for the guy. We plan to meet up and fly on the same plane up to SEA. We are the traveling masters!