This website was brought to my attention today and it really blew me away. Many of the bigger ships are now equipped with a tracking system known as AIS which integrates a special packet radio protocol with a GPS. Someone used a ground based receiver in Berkeley and some computer savvy to put together the above linked page which agives you a real-time and time-lapsed view of boats in the SF bay.
Yesterday began like many other winter weekends this year with an early start. We were heading up to Lake Van Norden to scope out another snowkiting venue. We got to the south side of the lake around 9:45 or so, but quickly realized that lake van Norden road was a little too snowy to drive far enough to the east to reach the meadows. There was no wind either, but I was content to at least scope out where we could park and how to walk to the meadows, so we drove around to the other side along Lake Mary road. It was here that I ignored the warning signs of not seeing very many (ok, zero) tire tracks, and rallied our subie up and over a largish snowy berm. I drove over the concrete track crossing and almost immediately sank into the snow on the far side of the tracks. This was the first time I had gotten the subie stuck, and I was determined to dig her out rather than face the ignominy of another Tow truck rescue. Does this look familiar?!
After about an hour and a half of digging, cursing and burning of clutch, a trainspotter dude showed up and immediately called Union Pacific and was more or less in constant contact with them for the rest of the ordeal. We were far enough away from the tracks that we *probably* wouldn't get hit by a train, but the prospect of our car getting turned into a carnitas of shredded metal and upholstry added to the urgency and stress of the situation.
He told us to pile rocks from the tracks under the wheels, and helped push.. neither of which really helped. After breaking our borrowed shovel, he also admonished me for wearing cotton pants and a sweater because "cotton kills". I guess he didn't notice the PILES of polypro/windstopper/mountain hardwear shells and wool underwear in the back seat (and the blue skies!). Soon after, a guy from sugarbowl showed up in his diesel Kubota 4x4. To make a long story short, no one was willing to pull us out from the tracks because they were very sensibly worried about a train showing up, exploding their truck and then dragging our chained subaru into sacramento. The same problem applied to all of the towing services that subaru roadside assistance could find. In the end, for a small fee ($150), Sugarbowl agreed to drive a Snowcat up the Royal Gorge trail and pull us out. It was decided upon that pulling from the side of the track was the safest option, and it worked like a charm.
The trainspotting dude didn't want us to cross the westbound track until he heard back from Union Pacific, so I chatted with the Snowcat driver for a while. It really is amazing what kind of terrain they can drive those things on. He happened to be one of those rock crawler guys and had done an infamous "road" between Fordyce lake and the Eagle lakes in his rig. He apparently carries a trailer with a welding setup in it for repairs on the go! I took the opportunity to ask him about those new Toyotas I've been seeing around : the FJ cruiser. Despite being pretty firmly in the anti-SUV camp, the FJ intrigues me because they ran them (or something like them) in this years Baja 1000, they are pretty inexpensive, and they seem to be actually for off-road use, rather than rolling over smaller cars. I think it's a testament to their utility that this guy seemed pretty impressed with them, and dismissed most other SUVs as "cars".
Chloe and I also had a chance to check out the impressively large hole I had gotten us into
After waiting for a while, we got the go ahead from the trainspotter and I turned onto the sent-from-heaven snowless rail crossing and rallied down the other side.
After thanking everyone profusely, we hightailed it out of there, cruising up the icy hill which I had worried about on the drive in.
Lessons learned:
1)The subie cannot go everywhere
2)The subie cannot go everywhere
3)The snowbanks on the sides of train tracks are made of very soft snow.
4)Cars are heavy and sink into soft snow
5)The subie cannot go everywhere
So I am suitably chastened and will certainly back off a lot earlier next time (especially near train tracks!).
We got back to the cabin around three-ish, set up the soaking tub, and burned some of the brush that we had cut down last spring and summer in the burn barrel
Unfortunately, most of the water in the cabin was frozen solid
as was the olive oil
even the water we set out overnight froze!
After another soak in 100 degree water this morning, we headed back to berkeley.
We had read about "the best breakfast in town" in the Rockfax Staying in Bishop Guide, and on it's recommendation spent twenty minutes wandering around bishop looking for a breakfast place which is apparently not even in business anymore. No matter though, as we went to Schat's Bäkkêrÿ for some asiago bread, fritters, and various other baked goods. I've avoided Schat's for a while because of the gratuituous use of an umlaut over the "Y" as well as the additional "k", despite all the gushing about fantastic breads that I've read. I grew up in Berkeley -- home of Acme bread -- and lived in france for almost four years, so I just assumed that all the praise was relative to other offerings in america and that I would be underwhelmed. To my surprise though, their sourdough was excellent, as was everything else I tried. Interestingly, the original Schat was apparently taught how to make his signature product -- Sheepherders bread -- by Basque shepherds in the early 1900's.
Back at the hotel, we packed up and took a few minutes to watch birds peck at detritus that had blown onto the frozen swimming pool
nothin like a good detritus peck.
We drove back up 395, cursing the lack of snow along the way (there was wind, too!) and stopped to take pictures of Topaz lake.
We also saw some (presumably drunk) fishermen crash their boat into the ice encrusted shore of the lake.
After crossing into the Sierra on route 88, we stopped at what I later discovered was near one of the major snowkiting areas in the Tahoe area: Hope Valley. We were actually at the small cross country area at the intersection of 88 and 89 called Sorensens rather than Hope Valley itself. Despite the weak winds, I managed to move about twenty feet under wind power
but only after a LOT of patience and effort by Chloe -- THANK YOU CHLOE!!! There was so little wind that the kite would drop out of the sky and I wouldn't be able to launch without her!
From Sorensons, it was finally time to go back to berkeley. I can't wait to go back!
We got a late start this morning and went to the hotel lobby to grab some continental breakfast. I didn't know it then, but the muffin I ate would cause me all kinds of gastroenterological distress for the rest of the day. At this point however, I was happily munching away on a poppyseed muffin and a bowl of dry cheerios (I'm lactose intolerant, but only in the morning for some reason). The woman working at the front desk was barely able to peek her head over the front desk, and struck me as a little batty when I first saw her. This suspicion was confirmed by the ten minute stream of consciousness monologue that she delivered in response to another hotel patron asking where he could find a good garage in town. It was a meandering tale that began promisingly with the statement that most garages would be closed today, but then went on to a discussion of roadworthy tires, pneumatic lifts and the lives of the local garageman. Strangely undeterred by this monlogue, the man asked a second question. I would have stopped after the first personally, but I guess maybe he was still trying to figure out if there was an answer somewhere in the first stream of consciousness. The second answer, about how good the cell phone coverage was north of town, was mercifully only half as long but had even less content. I think her answer boiled down to: "it depends on what kind of phone you have". Chloe and I were smirking at eachother and doing our best not to break out laughing during the entire episode.
From the hotel, we set off to the Buttermilk boulders and warmed up on the mantley V2 on the solid grain boulder, then the Prow and birthday direct. However, I wasn't able to do birthday direct because of general weakness and my shoulder not cooperating. From the birthday boulders, we headed up to "The loaf" and ground away our skin on "Dough Boy", which was excellent. The top out is pretty scary however, and my hands got so sweaty I had chloe throw our chalkpot up to me. From the loaf, we walked down to the ranger rock and got spanked on the v3 and v4 (almost sent the latter) and then ate lunch on top of the loaf while we watched some famous climbers warm up on the V3, 4 and 5.
We decided that our skin wouldn't last much longer on the rough granite, so we headed back down to the volcanic tablelands and found a nook in the east rim of the canyon that I hadn't been to before. I did "Sacre Coeur", a few problems in the hall of mirrors,
and "Baroque". Chloe also got baroque (before me!!! arrrrgh) and we both floundered on the thin face problem at the end of the hall of mirrors.
We moved down to try Mr Happy but got spanked.
After a quick look around from the canyon rim
we headed down to Black Magic -- a tall problem which I did first try:
and then onto Azeed , and then Weekender. Weekender was an even bigger adventure than Black Magic. The moves are pretty easy, but all of a sudden you find yourself high off the deck on somewhat suspect overhanging rock. Chloe wasn't happy that I topped this one out, and I think it marks the end of highballing for a while.
We were the last ones down from the Happy boulders and watched the last remnants of light fade over the Sierra
and then grabbed pizza at The upper crust which in combination with a mammoth pale ale, was the perfect end to our day.
After checking the weather forecast, and ensuring that there was no snow in the forecast (in order to avoid a Road trip like this) , we headed out on I80 for the eastern Sierra. The skies were blue and the air was quite cold, and the drive down 395 was beautiful, as usual. We stopped near mammoth to try out my Ozone Frenzy kite and snowkiting in general for the first time. There wasn't very much wind to play with, but after a lot of effort by Chloe, we managed to get the kite up in the air and I trudged about a foot under the power of the wind. The rest of the time was spent on my ass or knees.
It was really frustrating to see the miles and miles of perfect snowkiting terrain -- treeless rolling hills as far as the eye could see -- with not a patch of snow on them. Oh well. there wasn't very much wind anyway.
From Mammoth, we headed down to Bishop and the Happy boulders, where we climbed a few things on the Savannah boulder, and got shut down on some west rim pocket problems. We headed to the hotel around twenty minutes after the sun went behind the Sierra and it started getting cold. We had dinner at our favorite mexican place in town, headed back to the hotel and fell asleep early.
looks like that article about using monkey training techniques on your husband is back at the top of the NYtimes most emailed list.
My father is Japanese, from a prominent merchant family in Aomori. His father came from a Samurai family in a period in Japanese history when the status of Samurai had faded, and had married into my dad's mothers family and took her name. My dad, much to my frustration has held the values of the merchant class in higher esteem than those of the warrior class. As a result, he tended to downplay the fact that half of his genetics were of the decapitating/Toshiro Mifune type. Anyone who spends enough time with him knows where his brains wiring really comes from though. As a youngster, especially in the ninja-obsessed eighties, I would have been much happier to be able to tell my friends that I came from a Samurai family of course, but it was hard to get my dad to play along. I think for the most part his father also downplayed it in favor of integrating into his new family and moving on. Also, although my grandfather came from a Samurai family, he personally was never a Samurai. Indeed, before marrying my grandmother, he had been a servant in my grandmothers household from a fairly young age. As a result, my dad didn't hear very much in the way of Samurai stories, but he would from time to time see "Toshiro" boiling to the surface.
After watching Hara Kiri together a few nights ago, he remembered one of those stories. In the movie, a young samurai sells his blades and replaces them with bamboo: an unthinkable offense. The blade was the soul of the samurai, so selling it was well... not looked upon favorably. Anyway, when my dad was a kid, he and his brother would go to samurai movies and would sometimes re-enact scenes from the movie. One day, after watching one of these movies, they returned home and started play fighting in the guest room: my dad with a ruler, and my uncle with a *real sword*. You'll be surprised to hear that things didn't go as planned; my uncle lost control of thekatana and chopped a deep gash into the arch of his foot, which immediately erupted into a fountain of blood. The blood started spraying over the tatami, and my terrified dad ran to get his father. This is where things got even worse. My grandfather, upon seeing what had happened, started beating my uncle, yelling at him for unsheathing a sword in the house. My uncle rolled away from the assault of my grandfather, spraying blood like a garden hose that has slipped out of your hands. My dad was horrified of course, not just because his brother was losing blood AND getting punished by his dad, but because he saw a side of his father that he rarely if ever saw.
As I mentioned, despite his protestations, I can clearly see that in him as well, although I'm sure to a much lesser extent. No comment on whether any of that made it into my personality.
Chloe and I have been getting caught up with 24 (the TV series). I only
really liked the first season, and even that one was so full of
ludicrous situations, gratuitous interpersonal problems, nonsense
"computer speak" and inexplicably dumb behavior that my fast forward
button got a lot of action. But hey, its no worse than most Hollywood
movies, and it's on TV/Netflix. The season that we are watching right now (Season 4), however seems to be a departure from the already pretty pro-government-propaganda heavy earlier seasons. Season 4 has the Counter Terrorism Unit confronted by the by now usual "quandaries" of how much force to use when extracting information from witnesses. After the second questioning, most of the dramatic tension is lost though, because everyone always ends up getting injected,tazered or brutalized anyway. It always made me vaguely uncomfortable that the storyline frequently makes you *want* CTU to use any means necessary. Those moments weren't very frequent in older episodes, and more disturbingly, this season introduced the
remarkable subplot in which the terrorist, who has run out of options,
calls "Amnesty Worldwide" who dispatch a sleazy BMW driving lawyer toCTU
who prevents the use of torture to interrogate of the suspect. This
causes valuable time to be lost in the pursuit of the crazy nuclear
terrorist. Hmmm.
