Tuesday, November 27, 2007

A new fire in my life


I don't have some crazy story to tell. I have hundreds. Life in the wilderness is amazing, and the young people that I walk with teach me new things by the minute.

My family means the world to me. My friends are my richest treasures. I've got a good flame burning in my heart.

-Price

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

The Tuna Review



I've never been a tuna kinda guy. Honestly, I don't really care for it now, but having gone from a healthy income to a ways below the poverty line for sanity's sake, sacrifices had to be made.
(how'd you like that alliteration?) Tuna is bearable, and it's good for me. I'm not one to add a bunch of mayo or sauce it up. Pepper is plenty to mask the fact that I'm eating the canned Pisces that I've always despised. I usually eat about a can a day, so that's 37.5 grams of protein, 2.5 grams of delicious fat, and a big fat goose egg in the carb category. Granted, it's followed by some crackers and probably a healthy drowning in soda, but the tuna itself is mighty good.

I'll just skip the "chunk light" category. I'm not going to eat the lips and butts of fish just because cow lips and butts taste spectacular all rolled up in a Maverik bahama mama hot dog. Besides, the solid white albacore tuna is better in both taste and quality than any canned chicken I've ever had. Just avoid the envelope packaging altogether. Even the albacore in the flat packages is horrific. Stick to cans.

All the albacore can usually be purchased for just under a dollar a can if bought on sale or at Costco, so price is irrelevant. We'll just stick to quality and taste.

The worst - Starkist:
Texture is consistent with oatmeal or chunk tuna. I don't know how they can claim that it is solid white albacore. This brand is best avoided, even if you find it on sale. Don't be tricked by the nerdy fish in the beret. He's a bad, bad fish.






Pretty good - Chicken of the Sea:
Texture is usually good, and you get the occasional solid-fillet-surprise upon lifting the lid. I look forward to popping the lid and seeing one big chunk of fish almost as much as I anxiously awaited waffles that stuck the the top of the waffle iron in my youth. The name is not deceiving. Chicken of the Sea is good and it goes down well. Also notable is moisture content. Even though you squeeze that lid hard enough to crush skittles, this tuna retains just about the right amount of moisture. Not too shabby.





Completely bearable - Bumblebee Tuna:
Great Texture, good taste, decent moisture content, almost always gives the solid-fillet-surprise. Just pepper and go. Sometimes you can actually see the grill marks on the fish. This is the way to eat canned seafood.


I hope you haven't been bored to tears, though I'm sure that hope is in vain. Get some more protein in your diet. BTW, all three claim to be dolphin friendly since April 1990.

Monday, October 15, 2007

Change of Heart - Lack of Photos

I'll have to steal the pictures for this blog from other places on the interweb, so please forgive me. I'm not permitted to take pictures on the trail at Anasazi.

1. Friction Fire - While still difficult, certainly not impossible. I was able to create a coal and drop it into my tinder bundle shortly after I was shown correct methods and materials. Just after that I used a hand drill and got a burning coal on my first try. Wikihow has nothing on the people at Anasazi. I do have some small burns on my hands, because apparently, I was not instructed properly on how to hold my tinder bundle as I blew the coal into flames. It's rather necessary out on the trail since we don't have flashlights, lighters, matches, insect repellent, or even really warm gear. Out there, fire is life.




2. Cow tanks and sleeping on the ground - (had to straight steal this image from Gilz) Yeah, that's not the cow tank that I drank from, but it's only slightly greener. We don't filter our water, we drop it. Two drops of clorox per canteen. Well, I'm still here. Cow tanks are pretty much tiny man made lakes out in the desert. They get pretty gross. I really don't mind sleeping on the ground. It's just cold without anything between the body and the ground. Good thing for pine needles and leaves. It's also quite nice to heat up a rock in the fire and put it in the sleeping bag. Any number of sexual innuendos could be applicable here, but I'm not even going to start.

3. I'm T-pain, you know me - Imma buy U a drank, so just get used to it. One of the young walkers in my band had completely convinced himself that he was the rapper T-pain. Thing is, the other four young walkers were pretty well convinced of it as well. Actually, he was just a confused blond kid from the East Coast who wanted to buy everyone a drank. That kid has a heart of gold and he's laugh-out-loud funny. All of the young walkers have incredible potential, and they show it out there in the wilderness. Here's where my change of heart happened. I truly thought that I was going into the wild to babysit a bunch of punk kids who were too spoiled all their lives to obey their parents. I was humbled like a boxer in a gun fight. My expectations were left in ruins as I became part of a dynamic and interesting family. In true cliche style, I learned a lot more from them than they ever could have learned from me. I had decided to give Anasazi a "trial week" after which, I would return to Utah to climb rocks. Integrity would not be on my list of qualities if I were to turn and run now, so here I am. I'll be here a while, so for those of you who I should be missing, I will. Eight days on the trail and six days off make for ample visiting time, though, so plan on seeing me at regular intervals.

4. Trail food - Our supplies are plenty, but not exactly gourmet. Notable though is that these kids have learned how to make everything from muffins to lasagna in their little tin cups. I mostly stuck to simple foods-cheesy rice and lentils, corn meal, oats, and the occasional ash cake. Ash cakes are rather simple. They consist of flour, water, and whatever happens to be left in your food pack. Powdered cheese and chewed up tomatoes make a pretty good ash cake, brown sugar and chewed up almonds make a better one. You then clear the fire away so you have a nice bed of hot white ashes and toss it in. I suppose the ash probably helps digestion if anything. Chewing up ingredients is just part of cooking in the wild. It's the only way to make tomato sauce. You could spend an hour trying to cut up all the ingredients you need for a tasty dish, or you could quickly chew them up, or love them up as we like to say, and then spit them into the mix. Everything is cooked on the fire or in a steel cup like the one above. Even muffins. It's rather amazing.

Well, I'm here for a while. I'll try to blog on my time off, at least once a week. If you're not hearing from me, I'm in the woods, changing my heart for the better and inviting others to do the same. The Creator takes us to amazing places in this life.

Monday, September 24, 2007

Never enough!

I'm pretty sure that all songs by the Cure are about sex. Yes, all of them.

It's been a few days since I've blogged, and it's not for lack of interesting occurrences in my life. I'm in Phoenix. So, working backward from here: I was in San Diego earlier today, La Jolla actually. Jason Miller returned home from a 9 month stint in Thailand, and he actually doesn't smell that back. We went climbing near Oceanside with Beaver, the owner of Prana, and a few of his friends. Before that, I met up with Jason in Orange County. Saturday night Summers, H and I went to the Nascar truck race in Las Vegas. Before that I was in Utah, doing all of my normal, yet exciting Utah activities. I actually climbed every day for 8 straight.

Here's Beaver. He's a hell of a guy.

Jason Miller. (co-pictured w/ Joe Griffin)

Tyson Crosbie.

Monday, September 17, 2007

I have 99 biners

In my never ending attempts to injure myself while uninsured, I picked up my box of climbing gear and almost broke my back. Well, It was really heavy. Anyway, I tagged all my gear since it seems to be the cool-climber thing to do. Yellow is the color I chose. I somehow doubt I'm the first, but it should keep my stuff out of my friends' bags. At least now when I accuse them of stealing my gear I will have some evidence.

As I type here, the biners are all hanging above me, paint drying. There are 99 and I've been telling people that I probably have 100. Close enough, I say. If anyone who reads my blog cared in the least about climbing gear, it would probably not be wise to tell you that I also have 22 cams, 12 nuts, 3 belay devices, and enough nylon and dyneema webbing and slings to hang every traitor the catholic church ever had. That sounds rather gruesome, doesn't it? Well, I have a lot.



Summers, his wife, and I hit up Zion this weekend. I was humiliated by a crack climb, but I know very well that camming devices will hold my weight. That's a different story though. We descended Imlay canyon, and it really wasn't nearly as long/hard/dangerous as I remember. Maybe I've just gotten harder. I didn't bother with a lot of pictures. This canyon has a lot of stinky water that tends to destroy cameras and other electronics. Here are a couple shots I was lucky enough to get at the final rappel that dumps you into the narrows.




I need someone to sponsor me a new camera. That will be the next blog, but if you're thinking about it, here's a good reason:

Saturday, September 08, 2007

I dare you to have a better 24 hours



1. Wake up late with no pressures or stress.

2. Climb an 11,300 foot mountain by yourself.


3. Feel alive.

4. Meet up with friends.

5. Build a fire in a secluded spot in the mountains.


6. Play games, talk, and stare at the stars all night.

7. Go to sleep more tired than you've ever felt before.



Monday, September 03, 2007

Boobies, and Boo Bees

Had to kill us some hornets.

Saturday, September 01, 2007

Deep Discovery

I am a genius. Considering all the things that go on in my head, I can't bother to keep track of everything I need to document a trip deep into a mountain. The pictures were taken with Derrick's camera, so I won't take credit for any or all of them.

The dinner plate:

Derrick and I started hiking at 1/4 to nine. Darby Canyon is beautiful, and there was only one other car in the parking lot. There were a lot of cows, which fascinate Derrick. Why? No one knows. Derrick is just like that. He kept up well on the hike, in fact, he pushed me a little bit. We had a goal to be at the mouth of the cave by ten-thirty. We nailed it.Derrick at the mouth of the cave.


The mouth:

The mouth of the ice cave isn't very big, and after a climb over a little VW bug sized boulder, there is normally an ice floor with sparkly frozen walls. Oddly enough the walls weren't frozen where the ice normally begins, unfortunately, neither was the floor. Stemming is just another word for straddling, so that's what we did, for about twenty yards. Then disaster stuck. Well, the walls regained their frozen nature while the floor still had six inches of liquid water over the ice. Derrick was struck with the fear that grips those who are about to be turned away from adventure. It's actually a sort of relief for some, but I wasn't about to let a few inches of water turn me around.Stemming over the water



While still stemming over the water, I removed my shoes and socks one at a time and stepped down into the cold, cold water. I took my backpack to where the ice was solid about 10 yards down. Then I went back for Derrick . . . and you thought piggy-back rides were just for kids. My bare feet broke two inches further through the ice below the water. It was painful, but after drying off my feet and putting my shoes back on, I felt good enough to be swallowed. The cave had a taste and was very hungry.Brrr. . . cold feet.



The Throat:

After a few yards, the ice begins to slope. You can carefully step down the slope and risk a broken tail bone when you slip-you will slip-or you can get on your knees and enjoy the ride. It's just important not to go too far. The ice pitches down into a 45 degree angle, which must be rappelled, and then it gets real steep right before the esophagus.Derrick on the ice rap.



Mouth to First Stomach:

Down an overhung 70 foot rappel off the frozen waterfall to the big squeeze, the squeeze gets tight. Imagine trying to swallow grapes whole. Imagine trying to swallow little plastic army men. That's how the cave feels. The way I feel? Well, for 20 yards I've got a backpack in front of me blocking any view of what's ahead. I've got a backpack behind me that would block the view of my retreat, if it were only possible to crank my head around to look to my rear. I'm sandwiched in a tight tube of jagged limestone between two backpacks with just enough room to dig my toes and fingertips in and hump my way forward. I feel claustrophobic.It's a tight squeeze

Real tight



The big squeeze gives way to a low ceilinged room that widens enough to even stand up, if you're a dwarf. Seriously, it opens up a little, but only momentarily because then you have to pass through the corkscrew, a.k.a. sphincter #2.

Sphincter #2 through the End of the Stomachs:

The corkscrew is the vertical version of the big squeeze. It's not nearly as long, but it sure feels every bit as tight. The correct method is to have person number one squeeze through and then hand him all the backpacks and gear. Without trying to push a pack in front of you, it's actually doable, though still no easy feat. Derrick was slow through this, but did it all the same. What choice did he have.My rear end going up the squeeze.


Derrick is stuck



Out of the corkscrew squeeze is another stomach, a confusing stomach. You basically turn and head back in the direction you just came from. It's just on a different level. Scramble down this stomach and you'll reach a rappel. It drops you into another room and you just stay on the rope and rap down another 15 feet. Down this rappel, continue on around the corner for a while and you'll come to a deep crevasse. A rappel has been set up if you explore around in this room, but the water fall adjacent to the rope will get you pretty wet. Derrick and I downclimbed as I have in the past. There are some cool icicles in this part of the cave. This stomach is generally the last place you'll see ice in the cave.

From the way you entered this room, exit to the left, and continue down the tunnel to one more rappel. This is the end of the stomachs. From here on out, it's stemming madness, the small intestine.
This is how you stem it.


Stem and stem and stem. Put your feet on the walls, your hands on the walls and keep moving. It's not as bad as it sounds, owing to the fact that there are rock features everywhere and generally something to put your feet on. That being said, it is as bad as it sounds. You have plenty of features to hang on to. They're all muddy. They're sharp and slick. There are also plenty of features at head level, and since you're looking at your feet, your head takes a beating. Let me go ahead and insert a picture of my helmet here. Like any intelligent caver, I have and wear a helmet. Kneepads are necessary for this cave too.

The ninja is a move that Summers named. The stemming pinches down to a weird diagonal pinch that requires some crazy gymnastics to get through. I think everyone does it a little differently, most ending up doing some kind of roll or crashing into the mud.

So stem around until you get to a right hand bend with a muddy little platform. This is where I like to join the cave in the GI exercise. Derrick and I ate ramen noodles and tuna fish. I've never had worse ramen noodles, and the tuna was more disgusting than ever. The noodles were old, and the tuna, which came from pouches, was soggy. Next time, I'll pack my own tuna and bring some crackers. Sorry, D.R.This was no tasty treat.


Okay, so cold and stiff, but full of crappy food, we go back to stemming. It finally gives way to the cascades, which involve stemming, but it's down a really cool slope where the limestone layers have been angled up. This is an amazing spot to think about how creative God is. Never in all of the eternities could I come up with such amazing features and creations, and then He buries them deep in the earth. It's mind boggling.

Large Intestine:

Eventually, the tunnel forces you onto your knees and away from the water. You've reached the mud crawl. It's easy enough to get lost here, but if you stay a little to the left, and watch for footprints in the mud, you'll stay on track. The mud lasts for a while and eventually the tunnel rejoins the stream. You're getting closer and closer to the dreaded Crotch Lake.

You'll know it when you get there. There's a muddy platform on the left, and the stemming gets so wide that it's impossible to continue. Cave nudity is the only way. Just drop your drawers and reach for the sky. It's about a 120 foot wade through water so cold it hurts. I've seen waders and inflatable rafts down there, but limestone is unforgiving to vinyl and they always just get trashed and get left behind as trash. It's amazing what people will do to keep their nads out of ice-cold water.Almost through the lake. Where are my pants?


I'm tall enough to stand on my tiptoes and as long as there are no major slips, I have about an inch to my saving grace. Derrick was able to do the same. I feel for you shorter (or longer) people. I really do. My feet and legs are rather numb after this little stint, but they warm up quickly. Hopefully the same holds true for everyone and their equipment.
It gets warm soon enough. Just round the corner, drop the last little rappel in a humid room that is constantly misted by a waterfall. Bring on the maze room.

This can get confusing. The general rule to get you out of the maze room, is to bring someone who has been there before. In 1997, Dad, Summers, Jeff Andrus and I spent a few hours exploring offshoots, kicking over false markers and generally getting frustrated. Even if you choose the right tunnel to get out, the exit out of that tunnel, to the pit is easy to miss.
As you enter the maze, look for a rock with an orange arrow painted on it. This is one of many markers in the room, but this is the correct one. You should make a hard right into a tunnel large enough to walk in. As this tunnel continues, watch for a spot where the tunnel descends. Look up, because you're about to make a big mistake. Above this descending tunnel there is another passage which often gets missed because you've got your light shining at your feet.
Take this upper passage, but make sure you're paying attention. The tunnel will narrow up and you'll have to do a little downclimbing. After this, keep an eye looking left. If you're not watching, you'll walk right past the pit and down a passage that dead-ends.

Colon and well . . .:

The pit requires a 5.8ish move to escape. there is a bolt where you can clip some kind of aid, but the rule again is to have someone who can climb out, even after an exhausting day. It's not easy, and it shouldn't be underestimated. Once out of the pit, adjust your knee pads because you're going to be doing some crawling. It gets nearly as tight as the big squeeze, but tasting victory makes it a little easier. The wind should be blowing pretty hard as you block off the tightest parts.

The smell of plants returns just before the light of the late afternoon spills in through the small tunnel that marks the extent of the soft-core excursion to the Darby Canyon Wind Cave. We arrived. We did it. The exit is bigger than that of a Houston-Texan. That's it.
Derrick was ready to go.


Derrick and I spent almost exactly 7 hours in the cave. We cleaned up and made it back to Driggs by about 7:30. O'Rourk's is forever the place to celebrate after passing through the digestive track of Fossil Mountain. Yum!It felt awful good to see the sun again.

Monday, August 27, 2007

TETON

Click on the pictures. They get bigger.