9 posts tagged “vacation”
Sometime before Flickr and Twitter scratched my lazy itch, I used to blog. Whole paragraphs! Structured sentences, posts with conclusions and enclosures! Double entendre! Exclamation points!
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945 photos taken.
- 945 photos to sort through.
- 500 Colones = 1 US Dollar (more or less).
- 14 hours flying.
- 7 days in Costa Rica.
- $26 to leave (honest! tax!)
- Zero internet.
- 562 unread emails.
- Not including spam.
- 20 photos taken underwater.
- 1 lost iPod (boo).
- Tired. Pista happy to see me.
- Met Tina’s extended family (and friends).
- Saw a slideshow dating back 40 years.
- Good times.
This weekend I learned to lead belay, rappel and climb on real rock. As other people have put it, climbing on plastic doesn't quite completely prepare you for the experience of hanging off the real thing.
My friend Janet and I went to Pinnacles National Monument on Friday morning after an impromptu trip to REI for some necessary gear. After setting up camp, we drove in to see what we could before sundown. A ranger at the visitors center was incredibly helpful describing where we should start climbing and things to watch out for, particularly the rock.
The rock at Pinnacles is volcanic breccia and things tend to break off. There were some completely unnatural-looking holds on some of the walls. We definitely thought “this hold can't be real!” The ranger let us sample a few pieces of the different type of rock we’d likely be encountering on our trip, gave us copious safety-related material and sent us off in search of our first wall, Tourist Trap.
Tourist Trap is probably the closest wall to the east side entrance, about 150 feet in from the top parking lot in the Bear Gulch area. We parked, hiked in with our gear and found a half-dozen climbers at the wall. A French pair was climbing Rat Race and a couple of guys had set up a short toprope on the next wall over. They graciously offered to let us use their rope if we’d clean it, so we harnessed up and Janet belayed my first, pathetic attempt at climbing real rock. I went up about 10 feet before becoming completely stumped and burning out my arms trying to hold onto the overhang figuring out what a hold looked like. I wish I could have blamed it on the dying light, but this was just a case of pure newbie. We switched off and Janet made it to the top with ease, cleaned the gear and I lowered her down.
We hiked & drove back to camp and finished off the day with a fire, sausages, a bottle of Chimay and a tipsy game of Scrabble. Ah, geekery. Incidentally, it was really cold. Note to self: invest in warmer sleeping bag.
The next morning we fired
up the camp stove for tea & blueberry pancakes [1]. In addition to
leaving my jacket at home (Pista ate it while we were away), I'd
forgotten some essential pancake ingredients so we had to improvise. We
substituted water + lots and lots of butter for the [soy] milk &
oil portion of the recipe. In the end the pancakes, save one, turned
out perfect: tender and moist on the inside, crispy on the outside. I
<3 blueberry pancakes.
We got to Toprope wall by sheer accident, following the trail up around the backside of the Monolith and scrambled up on top of a series of interesting looking rocks when we spotted a pair of anchors. We checked some more, referred to the Book, double-checked and finally ended up asking the couple whose anchor we saw on the 5.8 climb if this was Toprope wall. They confirmed it, so we hiked down to the base and decided to set up shop.
Toprope wall has 3 sets of anchors, one for a relatively short 5.3, a 5.7-5.8, and a 5.9. We set up our anchor on the 5.3, which only had two bolts. Physics dictates that you want about 20 degrees angle between anchor points to spread the load evenly between the bolts, so we rigged up our anchor with a pair of slings, two quickdraws and a couple locking crabs. It’s an interesting engineering problem that we’d face a few more times over the weekend: crafting an anchor that’s fault-tolerant, redundant and as resistant to shock-loads as possible should one side fail.
I hiked and Janet rappelled down to the base and we set up belay. I climbed first, and made it to the top of my first real rock pitch. Trusting my feet was the main problem, but grabbing onto real (sharp, crispy) rock was interesting too. I ended up stuck at the roof for a few minutes trying to mantle up over it with poor footholds (poor to me) and less handholds than I was accustomed to. Eventually, I made it and was standing next to the anchor we’d crafted. The feeling was sublime.
Janet lowered me, we swapped and she scaled it quickly, getting past the crux at the roof with ease. Her experience + my foot taller + 70 pounds means her moves were almost entirely different (and more elegant).
I scaled the 5.3 again, this time with a bit more confidence and then moved our anchor to the 5.8 bolts. There were 3 bolts here, so we restrung the slings & quickdraws to make a better anchor. Rope drag was the only problem we had after that.
We switched off climbing the 5.8, which as expected was way harder than the previous route. This time Janet climbed first and gave me the beta on my attempt. Hard. By this point, the other couple had departed, so we decided to move the anchor over to the longer 5.9 route. This was harder still. After we both had scaled the 5.9, it was getting on in the day so we decided to pack it in and hike back via the upper trail.
We decided we didn’t want another freezing evening in the tent, so we drove to Hollister and had tasty barbeque. It was a bit of an ordeal getting into town, with every. Single. Parking. Space. Taken by an assortment of SUVs, trucks with lift-kits and the occasional Prius. Which we found particularly amusing, as there were a comparatively large number of non-lifted, non-gas-guzzling vehicles in the immediate vicinity of Pinnacles, contrary to the surrounding area.
The reason for the parking/traffic problem was Hollister’s annual Lights On parade. We think it has something to do with Christmas lights or something. After BBQ and beer, we drove back to camp and had lights out.
On Sunday morning after a late (er) start, we made for the Balconies area of the park, hiking in via the Old Pinnacles Trail. After going through some spectacular (dark, confined) caves, we made it to a half-open area underneath some massive (100+ foot in diameter) boulders wedged into the canyon. Our choices: go left and follow the trail or go right and scramble up the hillside on a 45-degree rock face. So we strapped on our climbing shoes and went right.
This turned out to be another serendipitous moment: At the top of that scramble we found the base of Chockstone Dome, where a father-daughter pair were ascending the Regular route using some seriously vintage equipment. Turns out to be the exact wall we’d set out to find: a two-bolt lead (with a somewhat scary long runout) on a 5.4-ish route. Sweet.
Janet led the climb up and belayed me from the top. It was interesting not having my belay partner below (telling me where to put my feet). I made it up to the top, cleaning the protection as I went. A little scary, particularly since we were doing this on what was essentially a boulder wedged 50 feet above the ground. When we got to the top, we cleaned the anchor and set up for rappel. Another first for the weekend, just to round it out. Walking backwards down a cliff with nothing but a rope and your right hand keeping you from decking on the pavement is an interesting place to be. It all worked out, and by the time we’d packed the rope it was starting to get dark in the valley so we decided to head back to the city.
We hiked back on the high trail and stopped for a late lunch on a fine crag, splitting when it started to rain. We made it back to the car before getting completely soaked, passing hikers going out for the day!
I can’t wait to get back on a cliff. When we went to the gym on Monday, the big safe holds looked different, and I wanted more of a challenge. Guess I know where my summer’s going...
[1] I’ve been making blueberry pancakes while camping for years. It’s sort of tradition.
Before the unfortunate incident with my foot I drove & hiked up to the top of Mauna Kea. This is kind of cool for two reasons:
- Mauna Kea is the tallest mountain in the world, measured from the base (33,474 feet).
- At the summit is the largest collection of observatories in the world, including the Keck Telescopes, the Gemini Observatory, the Subaru Observatory, the United Kingdom Infrared Telescope, the Canada-France-Hawaii Telescope and the Submillimeter Array.
There's also a lake up there, about 30 minutes from the road at 13000 feet. It was here that I decided that my express Jeep elevator to the summit was gonna have to pause. I started feeling dizzy and a little short of breath, and came pretty close to going back down. I didn't, and after 20 minutes or so hiking (just out of view of the car, road & civilization in general) up the pumice/dirt/lava mountain my heart stopped racing and I could walk around at will. Yay quitting smoking!
After the requisite half-hour, I crested the last hill and looked down on this eerie lake, completely out of place in this moonscape. I walked down into the crater and circled the lake, finding a small patch of life clinging on to the edge of the water. The air and sun were unlike any place I've ever been, mica crisp and glinting. I read that most of the UV protection is gone at this altitude, so wearing sun protection is a really good idea.
I hiked up the far side of the lake, climbing up huge boulders and found a USGS marker. I stooped down to photograph it and when I turned around I saw two people in the distance. They were hiking around Mauna Kea with their daughter who showed up a few minutes later. They were from Hilo, and had parked their car in a spot much closer to the lake (sans crazy uphill hike). Oddly I saw their car parked in the same spot when I came back down the mountain a couple hours later.
I got back to the car, feeling ever more confident with my new high-altitude lungs. Drove the rest of the way up to the summit where the observatories were. It was some serious Evil Genius NASA shit. I kept looking around for guys in silver jumpsuits driving golf carts.
Determined to get to the top of the mountain, I had one more climb. Or should I say, slide down a stupidly steep slope on the wrong side of a guardrail and then a climb. On top of Mauna Kea is a traditional Hawaiian shrine, constructed of tied wood, feathers, stone and offerings. It seemed right that the highest piece of land in the Pacific wasn't bereft of something truly human. The only other thing on the summit was another USGS marker, uncerimoniously sunk into a concrete/steel post.
Found WiFi at a coffee place in Kailua. After trying a half-dozen seats in the place, one router restart and commiserating with a fellow also lacking internet, I was able to connect. Currently skirting Alamo's 30 minute grace period, 10 miles and one fillup away from the airport.
Getting to see a doctor on Saturday was a giant hassle. Once I was there, it was like I had my own personal medical staff.
I tried 4 methods of finding out where the local hospital/ER was:
- Asking surfer dude watching me grimace and clean out the wound while bleeding all over the sand. He suggested going to Waimea, the opposite direction of where I eventually wanted to be (my bed).
- Looking for blue H for hospital signs on the highway. Failed.
- Calling 411 (information). These guys took the cake. Not only could they not help me, "Sir, what is the name of the hospital you're trying to find?" "Um, no. I'm on vacation and I'm bleeding all over the place. If I knew the name of the hospital, do you think I'd call you?" I was eventually transferred to a supervisor, where it was Same Story, Different Dude. Cingular/whatever, your 411 service is fucking utterly useless. Die.
- Stoned gas station attendant girl who gave me vague directions (I'm sensing a theme here, this wasn't the first set of hand-wavey directions I recieved on this trip) and named a nonexistent town and grubbed the map I produced.
I set off and 10 minutes later I passed an ambulance screaming the other way, so I figured it was close. Eventually, Stoned Girl's directions panned out, and I saw a blue H sign for Hospital: 4 miles. I turned, followed signs for the ER and limped up into...
A locked door. I poked around at a couple other doors, eventually going into what appeared to be an administrative office. I guess I looked lost, because the clerk who saw me kicked into maternal mode real fast. I told her my little foot-stabbing anecdote, and she led me through the locked door.
A male nurse immediately took me over and did the temp/blood pressure drill, medication allergies, etc. I was in shock--no waiting! I'm accustomed to having to wait at least 1-2 hours before getting anyone, much less a doctor's attention.
He said I might need stitches, then we started talking about golf and mountain biking. Where the admin went into Maternal mode, this guy went straight into Buddy mode. He was like the friend everyone has who's just a regular guy, up for anything, and just plain nice. Doctor Okamura was similarly awesome. Not similar as in he was completely different--all business but friendly at the same time. He gave me a choice of stitches or no stitches in a roundabout way. He actually got me to decide based on criterea other than how much pain and time the stitches were going to take (I elected for stitches).
Nurse runs off to get iodine solution and Doc comes back with a big hypo with novicaine and stabs my foot a few times to numb it down. At some point he decides that his original assessment was worse than reality. Despite the meaty slice it looked, it wasn't actually that deep. So no stitches.
Admin comes back and plops down in a chair next to the bed I'm on and interviews me for the insurance/contact information. She actually fills out the whole fucking form, asking me every question. I'm computing the total administrative cost of this in the back of my head at the same time I'm just plain happy to not have to fill out the forms.
Doc, Nurse and Admin make another pass each, and I'm sent home with a stack of bandages, antibiotics, a prescription for more, and advice to stay out of the water for a day or two.
Best hospital visit ever.
...I'd say the gash on my foot was because I violated a half-dozen kapu by taking photos and committing other generally annoying tourist shit on the mountain summit. But I'm not, so your angry god can stuff it. However, being an engineer subject to Murphy's Law I ended up in the ER for a particularly messy gash in my foot after approximately 0.01 minutes in the water.
At some point during breakfast yesterday, my intentions were steered away from visiting a beach on the north side of the island toward a visit to a lake on top of Mauna Kea. It was an hour and a half drive on what the guidebook termed the worst road in the state and a 30 minute hike at 13000 feet. Barren, desolate landscape devoid of life, shelter, UV protection, gas and guardrails--my kind of day.
I finished breakfast (coffee, eggs, bacon, potatoes, an english muffin & Portuguese sausage [sic]) and set off in search of music for the drive ahead. I bought a couple CDs and a historical novel at Borders and set off for the volcano. Murphy paid me an early visit and the Jeep ate my CD. Button mashing and yelling were insufficient to coax it from the Jeep's hold, so I drove back to the airport to see if they could do something about it. Driving around without music wasn't an option. The folks at Alamo attempted, ultimately futilely to do same and ended up just giving me a new rental car, this time a shorter (read: less annoying top to stow) Jeep and promising their mechanic would be able to retrieve CD sometime tomorrow morning.
A half hour later I was driving on Saddle Road, the lonely highway built in 1942 by the Army to connect the east & west coasts of Hawaii. By "built" and "1942" I mean specifically it was spewed out in a drunken, meandering chunk in about 5 minutes and then immediately demolished by driving tanks on it. The road consists of 1 somewhat smooth paved lane and one pockmarked, potholed, trashed gravel/asphalt lane.
The problem is the one good lane is evenly split between the east and westbound lanes of traffic. Which means that unless your car is straddling the center line, you have to drive with one half of the wheels on the murky grit, punishing just one side of the car's suspension. If you drive out-and-back there's at least a little symmetry. At the crest the wind blows about a million miles per hour, so between the thwapping percussion of the tires and the rear seatbelts, bits from the top and other miscellany, I couldn't hear the stereo anyway.
As I progressed further, the landscape turned from coastal plains to rolling hills and pasture. The grass finally gave way to a moon-like field of solidified lava flow, jet-black and sharp. At the 29 mile marker, I turned off at the Mauna Kea access road and headed up the mountain. At 6000 feet, the temperature was noticably colder than at the coast and fog enveloped the car. I stopped at the visitor's center at 9000 feet, which had approximately half of the wall next to the door covered with huge signs detailing the dangers of altitude sickness. At the summit, the air pressure is 40% of sea level and the oxygen level is quite low. I promised myself I'd drive back down immediately if my lips turned blue.
Will continue later...need breakfast.
Going up to the top of Muana Kea, more desolate landscape photos to come...
From the west coast of Hawaii (Big Island).
Edit: Replaced broken photo.
This one time in Japan, I was caught in a blizzard on top of a volcano in Kyushu, abandoned on a 70 mile bridge between Shikoku and Honshu and caught Scarlet Fever.
Had I died it might have been a worse vacation. If you ever go to Japan, never try to simultaneously tour the country on a 1) bicycle 2) whilst camping and 3) doing it in the [spring]. Pick one.
Edit: OK, so between these particularly traumatic events, I was caught in:
- Three tunnels in the middle of the night trying to find a tiny mountain onsen town.
- A torrential spring downpour, utterly soaking myself and everything I owned.
- A half dozen notable fights with my girlfriend (we broke up halfway through this trip).
