Life In Yosemite

Good news from this afternoon’s DNC briefing…

1. Power is on in El Portal and Yosemite West and they expect to have power in the Valley by 8pm tonight, with the possibility of permanent power (rerouting lines around the burn area). This means that it wasn’t a totally stupid thing to take things out of the cooler last night and put them back in the refrigerator, and that Tom is probably enjoying a hot shower even as I type.

2. Air quality is improving: the health alert has been lifted as of today (7/30). The air quality hasn’t bothered me too much, although I’ve been avoiding running in the stuff. However, I work with a bunch of asthmatics, and they have been pulling heavily on their inhalers.

3. 140 is open again - with a CHP escort between 8am and 8pm. We don’t really use this corridor often, but the fact that they’ve opened it up again, means that the fire is unlikely to jump the road and head uphill toward our house.

4. The best news: The fire is now 40% contained (up from 20% this morning). Kenny talked to a firefighter who said that the threat to El Portal has “abated” too. I’m not sure exactly what that means, but since El Portal is directly downhill of us, if they think the threat against El Portal has diminished the threat against our neighborhood has probably also diminished.

Keep your fingers crossed that the conditions don’t change for the worst, but for now we seem to be looking pretty good.

Tom has a bunch of Telegraph fire status links on Yosemite Explorer if you want to follow the action like we have been the last few days.

There’s been a great deal of excitement and story-telling about the new speedclimbing record on the Nose, recently obtained by Hans Florine and Yuji Hirayama. 2 hours, 43 minutes, 33 seconds. In addition to the details from Hans, ElcapPics turned in an entertaining and suspenseful narrative on Supertopo. It was very exciting, the media was there, even The Big Hats, like Superintendent Mike Tollefson, were out in the meadow. There were multiple champagne celebrations, and I cheered until I was a hoarse.

A couple of highlights for me:

On the Sunday attempt, someone reviewing video of the King Swing made a comment about how the guys made the monster swing look something like Bandaloop’s vertical dancing, and Hans joked about throwing in a move. Who would have thought that in the middle of a down-to-the-minute record breaking attempt, Hans would actually go through with it? Could it be that he was actually having fun up there?

Sean Jones brought a posse of local El Portal kids out to the meadow to watch, and cheer. I loved the energy that they brought to the meadow. Afterwards, they gathered around Yuji to congratulate him and one said that they hoped the Hubers wouldn’t break their record. When Yuji replied, “I don’t care. The Hubers are my friends,” I hoped it would be an attitude toward competition and sport that the kids could carry with them for a while.

There was inspiration everywhere I turned that day. I met a guy who works for Architechtural Digest who came up from the Bay Area for some climbing, and to film the event. He’d been in a car accident that left his left arm hanging by the skin. Although he thought he’d never climb again, a short session at Swan Slab convinced him otherwise.

Tom Frost, at the age of 72, did the 4th class scramble to the base of the route to see the guys off… after sleeping on the floor at our place because it was too much trouble to pull out a futon. (I wasn’t there, and take no responsibility for that decision.)

And lastly, although I could go on and on, I was impressed with the number and diversity of people that came out to support these guys. From Hans’ posse of friends drove up from the Bay Area for the morning, to the crazy-fit guys who filmed them on the route, to the locals who took time out of their day to swing by, to the guy who rode up for specifically to see Sunday’s attempt and stayed through the record-breaking effort on Wednesday.

Any great astrologers out there have a reading on why there seem to be so many comings and goings in my life right now?

Tom and I went the Bay Area last weekend to welcome an old Berkeley friend who has just come back from the East Coast. After 3 long years in Maryland, we’re absolutely delighted to have Stan back on the West Coast. Maybe not as happy as his family is to see him, but pretty darned happy.

Our other friend, Pascal, was also in the Bay Area this weekend, all the way from Basil, Switzerland so it made the trip extra special. We had hoped that he and his family would be able to visit us in Yosemite, but he had to leave again too early.

Yuji and crew came to Yosemite over the weekend, and are staying in our place up in Yosemite West. It’s been 5 years since we’ve seen them. And Hans came up from the Bay Area to climb with him. These guys have big climbing plans, but we’re just happy to get to see them again after all this time.

On the going end, my good friends John and Marina are getting ready to leave Yosemite on Wednesday. It’s sad to see them leave, but they are starting on a big life adventure and it is hard not to feel the excitement and anticipation in that.

I have a new piano! I have a new piano!

I’ve only been wanting one for, lets see, 19 years or so. Basically since I moved out of my parents’ home and went to college. Unlike a piccolo, or even a guitar, pianos don’t lend themselves to moving around or small spaces, so it’s never really been a reasonable purchase. Until now.

… and I’m so happy with the model that we decided on. Growing up with a ‘real piano’, I have developed a certain minimum set of requirements - no truncated keyboards (this one is a full 88-key keyboard) and it has to *feel* like a piano. On the other hand, I didn’t want to break the bank either.

Playing is a real pleasure. My parents sent me a stack of my old music. Plus, the Yamaha YDP233 comes with a book of popular classical pieces (which you can hear before you play as part of the demo function). I’m rusty, of course, and my hands aren’t ‘in shape’ for extended playing. The first two nights I played until my fingers and forearms ached (typing was difficult the next morning). I’m sure it will come eventually though.

I surprised myself by using the metronome feature right of the bat. My old teacher, Mrs. Whitehead, would be proud. I’ve never done more counting than absolutely necessary, and sometimes less than necessary, but found that it was an interesting game to stay in time with the built-in metronome.
I also did scales, and wished that I remembered more piano theory. Eh - so I’ve changed since high school. Who’d have thunk?

Now, I just need to get some headphones so that I don’t torture Tom into regretting the purchase.

I’ve promised myself that no matter how late it’s gotten, or how many other adventures I’ve had since then, that I would put something up about the amazing day that I had climbing with my friends, Bruce and Em, on Fresno Dome, the day after the Pano hike .

Fresno Dome is one of those places that is close enough that I should have gone there many times, but far enough away that I haven’t. Unlike Yosemite climbing, it’s a quiet little crag, with plenty of routes at my new not-very-hardcore climbing level (as well as harder stuff). Bruce and Em did the hard work - planning where to climb, scouring guidebooks and the internet for information. I just tagged along, and was treated to a perfectly wonderful day of climbing.

The Pano project was also the perfect excuse to go to a Yosemite spot that I’d never been to before. Plus, the prospect of hiking with strangers also provided motivation for prioritizing some ‘training’ hikes leading up to the end of the month.

Between the Fern Ledge hike, and the Pano hike, I took a couple of other relatively substatial hikes. The week after Fern Ledge, I hiked with my friend, Hope, to Yosemite Point and back. (Tom wanted some exercise, so he ran laps on the Falls trail while we walked.) Hope’s a great hiking partner, and I was entertained by stories and got some good advice on hiking in a sundress/skirt - what to do, and what not to do.

The week after that, tempted by reports of amazing Sugar pines, clusters of snowplants, and some potential climbing, Tom and I hiked out to Dewey Ridge. Hiking through the deadfall along the side of the ridge was difficult going, but exploring new ground is always interesting. We found some awesome bouldering - including a boulder even I was willing and able to play on. And the prize of the hike was spotting the tiny Steershead flowers, which aren’t exactly rare plants, but are uncommon to actually see.

My hiking partners for the Pano day were Scott and Eric from the Pano project, and Bruce and Em, who I’ve known for so long I don’t even remember exactly how we met. The best thing about hiking is the chance to chat with new folks and old friends, so this fit the bill perfectly. Although, I have to say that I missed Tom. At some point on the trail I was bemoaning his absence and one of the guys says, “Well, that must me nice. To be free and do your own thing for a while.” Huh. I guess so. Not really, though.

I managed to get a somewhat ruffled picture of a small yellow bird that was singing brightly in a tree just off the trail. I think, based on a quick look through a field guide by John Muir Laws’, that it was a Warbler.

Also, we were treated to a pair of hang glider pilots taking their sled ride down from Glaicer Point. I previously thought that launch time for them was around 7 am, so that they would have very little chance of any thermal activity, but these guys launched sometime after 8 - not that they found anything that kept them aloft. One guy flew into the Yosemite Falls amphitheater, close enough to get wet from the spray, which seemed a little risky, but it must have been an amazing view. It’s been such a long time since I was a hang glider pilot, but seeing one (even if it is packed up on a car) usually brings back such joyful memories. I wonder what all my old HG buddies are doing now.

Eagle Peak itself is a beautiful rock outcrop with the top of Yosemite Falls visible on one side, and looking down on the Three Brothers (or the humping frogs), and beyond them to Middle Cathedral on the other side. It takes a long time to take 376 images, even if there is a little gigapan unit doing the work for you, so we had plenty of time to hang out and have lunch there. It was more crowded than I would have thought for a place I haven’t visited until now, but the rim is long, and we did have long stretches of time to ourselves as well.

Bruce found a pair of abandoned eggs lying on the ground along the rim. I have no idea what sort of eggs they are, and sadly there were no parent birds anywhere nearby.

I had the honor of participating in an amazing digital imaging project this weekend, right here in Yosemite. Yosemite’s the kind of place where you get to see a lot of pretty large, fancy camera equipment and some pretty all-star photographers, on a semi-regular basis, but this project blew my mind.

The groundwork was laid by the xRez team - Eric Hanson and Greg Downing, whose work spread like wildfire through my little Yosemite climbing community when they chose Half Dome and El Capitan as subjects, although they also have many other amazing images of vast landscapes on their sites. As one friend commented, “it’s almost like you can see the individual holds”. Not quite. But close.

But what if, instead of 1 shot, you took a whole series of shots, from all over the Valley, ranging from Cloud’s Rest, to the summit of El Cap to Dewey Point? In collaboration with our Park Geologist, Greg Stock, who will be able to use these images to monitor things like rock fall within the park, they collected/created equipment for 70+ people planned a multi-day event, provided training and set us loose on the park. Can you image the pictures that are going to come out of this project?

It all seems pretty cool from my low-tech climber perspective . I get to go hiking to a place I’d never been before (Eagle Peak), maybe meet some new folks, help carry some nifty camera equipment, and get some bragging rights when the whole thing sees the light of day. Pretty nice day.

It was my fellow volunteers, the ones that flew in from all over the country to participate that were really excited. Not because of the pictures, but because this is truly groundbreaking work in the field of digital imaging. Huh. Imagine that.

The only way I can think about it is based on a TED talk that Tom and I came across serendipitously about some new jaw-dropping 3D imaging software from Microsoft. No, really. Amazing. Watch the video, it’s worth taking the time to download. This is the kind of crazy cool stuff these guys are working on, and then you add the immense resolution of these gigapixel images…

They say that will start having something to show in August. I can hardly wait.

Fern Ledge is an amazing spot - one which John Muir thought was one of the best from which to watch a Moonbow, and which Ansel Adams immortalized with an image. Last weekend, we gathered a group of friends together and hiked up to revisit the spot.

The hike was just as spectacular as I remembered it. I thought we’d be too early for the wildflowers, but even this early in the season, there were plenty to stop and admire. The water was big - bigger than the last time we were there, and it got bigger the longer we stayed to watch. Tom crept out on a narrow ledge to get that ‘looking straight up’ view, while the rest of took pictures from the relative security of the bigger ledge where we had lunch.

The hike itself was harder than I remembered though, both in terms of the slippery decomposing granite and steep drop offs, but also just in terms of my fitness level. I haven’t been able to walk quite right for days. Still, that kind of sore feels good when I think about getting back in shape to do all the summer things that are on my list.

The company was magnificent. I wanted to include a picture of the crew. It’s a combination of old friends and new ones.

You’ve seen the kids speeding around in the shoes with the wheels in the heels. They always look so cool and make it seem so easy. I’ve wanted a pair forever. It turns out they even have adult sizes. Finally, inspired by my co-worker Cher, I got myself a pair from BeWild.com (a quick scan through their site shows a number of different sizes available ranging in size up to Adult size 10), and they came today.

It’s harder than I thought to get the balance right on them. I tried Cher’s pair on when we were in El Portal a few weeks ago, and it took me about 5 minutes before I fell and skinned my knee. Still, after that experience and a day of rolling awkwardly around the office (my boss thinks Heely Fridays are a great idea and my boss’ boss has given a thumbs up too) I’m starting to feel pretty comfortable. I’ve even started to experiment with turning. I’ve got a ways to go before I look ‘cool’, but I’m not sure that is the point anyway.

Tom tells me that if I fall over backward and hurt myself I’m going to be in a world of trouble from him. Rightfully so. My back sort of tweaks just thinking about it. Still, I figure I’m going to keep scrambling talus, and I may as well roll around when I can.

Inspired by a painting that a friend of ours did, and the stories that she told of a 130 foot Yosemite waterfall that neither of us had ever seen, Tom and I set out this weekend to hike to Alder Creek Fall. I’ll point you to YosemiteExplorer.com for full hiking trail details and descriptions. As always with a new trail, there were many discoveries to be made and we really enjoyed ourselves.

At one point, the trail crosses a ‘fire line’, with itchy, scraggly dried branches lying everywhere on one side, and the ash-filled open space of a recently burned forest on the other. Fire is so important to the ecosystem here. It’s amazing how far we’ve come from the days when fire suppression was the only management policy, but as with many things, it seems like the more we learn, the more we realize there is to learn.

There are several cool things about hiking through a recent burn area. One is the holes left in the ground where trees have burned into ash, leaving a pit and tunnels where the roots led out. Also stunning are all of the tree totems that are left behind – amazing charcoal sculptures that seem to defy gravity. They are difficult to photograph because they blend into the vegetation behind, but we were both stunned when we found one impossibly balanced burnt out trunk that still had living needles at the top. Near the end of the hike, we found a short stump that had been seriously undercut, and not only was it still standing, but it managed to support Tom’s weight as well.

At one point, the trail merges onto an old railroad grade, with the ties stacked neatly in piles in the center of the trail, or in some cases still buried in the ground. Tom even found a piece of track. The thought of a not-so-old-as-all-that railroad constructed specifically for the timber industry seems so incongruous with the current National Park designation, but it is a fitting reminder of how things change. How they have changed in the past and how they could change again in the future if we let it.

The Fall itself was more than worth the hike, as we rounded yet another bend in the heavily forested trail and were treated to open granite and roaring water. I thought it was 150-200 feet tall, Tom guessed more like 70, so our friend Kay, who estimated 130 is probably right. Usually is. We ate our meager ‘lunch’ of fruit and a few nuts, and then wandered along the river a short distance trying to find a safe way to the other bank. There were many places that would be easy to cross if the water was just a little lower, and Tom probably could have found a way anyway, but I was nervous, and willing to be patient, so we turned around. There was a wonderfully precarious glacial erratic on the far bank, and I hope it hasn’t toppled before we get a chance to return.

If the trailhead were a little closer, I could see visiting more often for a short run. The first uphill stretch, is too steep for me to run in my roly poly condition, but the trail itself is remarkably smooth and runnable. It would be a great run for Tom, and who knows – I’m supposed to be getting in shape after all.

When we got back to the car we calculated a rigorous 40 minute mile pace for our exploration – due to the fact that we stopped so often. We heard robins, mountain chickadees, Stellars jays, a “motormouth” robin that was probably a black-headed grosbeak, and dozens more that we couldn’t identify. Although we spent many long minutes gazing up into the trees trying to find the birds themselves, we had basically no luck. We photographed a bunch of plants that we also can’t identify, wishing that somehow we could get a direct feed from Michael Ross to get not only the answers, but the stories behind the answers, and wandered off the trail more than once to take a look at some promising-looking boulders in the trees. From the time that we left the roadway until we returned 5 hours later, we’d seen no other people.