Sunsets sooth more than the Mountain Tops

Moments ago I stood behind the cabin on Lige Street watching the setting sun over the Cascades.  I have a great little window to see a portion of silhouetted peaks through a void the narrow street leaves as it descends the hill from my cabin.  I've witnessed the waning moments of daylight from this vantage point on more than one occasion.

As it happened, I was sitting at my desk sipping a beer when I caught a glimpse out my window. Inspiration needs no egging on.  With two steps I was swiftly out my room and heading for the driveway, Tischer in tow and beer in hand.

This sunset was soft and warm.  Hughes of purple and red soothed my eyes and offered a point to settle my gaze while I thought back on this day.  Blue sky in the morning, bushwhacking a rough trail that serves us better once snow has filled in the cracks, and a hot dinner.

I think that's what I love most about sunsets. Certainly stunning and beautiful and worthy of my time, I value the setting sun for its offering of insight and reflection too.  It is such a good time to bring thoughts together and pay tribute to the day.  Though it may not be over, it's like dedicating those five minutes before bed to writing in your journal.  

I just made my entry in ink the color of the Mount Hood alpenglow.

Superior Hike: Going the Distance

A story I wrote about my Superior Hiking Trail thru-hike this past September appears in the Nov/Dec issue of Northern Wilds, a free paper out of Grand Marais, MN.  You can pick it up at many locations up and down the north shore, as well as select places in the Twin Cities.  I know that Midwest Mountaineering has them.

The story is not posted on the website so I have no link for you to follow. Consider checking the website out anyhow, there are some good stories on there.  

I gave Thanks.

Thanksgiving brought rain to The Mountain. I spent the morning cleaning for the group of students coming, mostly to cleanse the main room of Tischer. One student was seriously allergic to dog saliva, which ends up on their hair, to which Tischer (and the countless other dogs from the last 50+ years) deposits whenever she gets the chance, inside and out.

Later, from within the confines of Charlie's bar downtown Govy I watched through the front window as a cold rain turned briefly into a warm snow on main street. Football, PBR, and hot totties. Afterwards, as I entered the cabin front door, the table was set and candles were lit. I had a place mat set on the corner. Some of these fine students had been cooking since the previous night and a feast was indeed waiting. We sipped white wine, entertained second helpings, and discussed topics I can't remember. With sweet potatoes on my breath, I slipped up the stairs to Tischer and my bed.

Drunk and stuffed before 7PM. Happy Thanksgiving 2008. Still no snow.

Straight from the Heart: A Mountain Homecoming

Mt Hood Magazine Oct/Nov issue

Over 11 hours ago, I had taken over the driving. It was dry and clear then, a stark contrast to the sleet and dark that I pressed the van through now, rounding Mt Hood from the east. Surely I could have stopped a while ago. Of the 3 others curled up in the van, I had the right to wake someone up and trade places.

I could say it was the cheap gas station cappuccinos, or the cold air flushing my face from the open driver's side window. But when you get down to it, neither was the root of my determinatio

To read the rest of this story click HERE

Facebook

OK. I've done it. I finally caved. My tears of pride for holding out as long as I have quickly turned to a different kind. I have resisted internet services like this mostly over fear of spending more time online when in fact I would much rather be outside, or at least not in front of a computer. However, recent developments have made a Facebook account sound sensible. And so today I signed up. See you on the cyber...

Washington Soak

Just got back to the cabin after traveling and soaking with friends Greg and Erin through Washington State. Spent two nights here early last week and then headed for Olympic National Park in search of hot springs.

Found them in the backcountry near Port Angeles and spent a night camping and exploring at least 7 different pools, by our count. On Thursday, we headed for Kingston and caught a ferry ride across the Sound over to Edmonds and into Seattle to visit with a friend of

Greg's. He treated us to a great meal, fantastic beer, and the delight of his homemade wine.

Afterwards, I joined my friends Nico and Michelle down in Olympia, where Tischer had been staying while I was off in thermal bliss. A rainy day of travel put me back in the cold and falling snow last night. Good to be home, cleansed and warmed. More good memories with Greg and Erin as well. Safe travels to them en route back to MN.

Book Recommendation

Passion Below Zero by David Hays

I stumbled onto this book in an abandoned service garage back in 2004 when I was working in West Yellowstone, MT for Eagle's Store. On this shift I was working at the gas station next door, to which the old garage was attached. The picture on the cover is what led me to open it, curious about the inside pages. Over the following few days I barely closed it, reading whenever I could. I was hooked on the poetic words of David Hays.

He was a columnist for a local paper near West prior to his death, and I became a faithful reader after discovering that they still published his archives. I cut them out each week but can't to this day figure out where I stashed them?

Hays writes about moving to and living in his one room log cabin along the Henry's Fork River in Last Chance, ID. He writes about the mountains, about the sky and about his neighbors - the flora and fauna of the area. He tells of the weather and his personal transitions with the seasons. About how living in this place you don't get a choice, but if he did this would be his.

I feel the cold when he talks of dark winter mornings next to a wood stove and I sense the genuineness when he thanks the treasured moon for its light. His words are blunt, honest, and reveal bare emotions. I found myself scribbling quotes and notes continuously as I read, until I finally realized the piling scraps of paper weren't worth it. The whole book was.

Published in 1995, you can find used copies online. Mine is a part of my permanent library. If you enjoy the wilderness, the mountains, peace, quiet, or the idea of a cabin in the woods - do yourself a favor. Let me know if you have trouble closing it too.

Who wants to go skijoring?

I recently interviewed a couple people about the sport of skijoring for a story I'm working on for Mt Hood magazine. While my previous knowledge consisted of viewing random online photos and running with Tischer on a leash, as I dig deeper into this dog-powered mode of travel I am becoming more turned onto it.

Once again Tischer won't see this one coming, but I am going to strap a harness on her. There are so many benefits to skijoring: She'll be on a leash, we'll both be getting good exercise, and we'll be furthering our relationship through teamwork. In addition, she'll be helping me attain a ride that's sure to be wild, and if this works, we can make a transition to pulks where instead of carrying gear Tischer will be pulling it.

Of course this will take a little work. I'll need to train her to pull (only when the harness is on) me obediantly. This means following the trail and listening to simple commands. Still, I look forward to those high intensity moments where she's heading one way and I'm heading into a Douglas fir.

I can't help but think that as I explore the joys and challenges of skijoring this coming season with Tischer, perhaps health insurance is a wise purchase?

Stay tuned...

Pond Hockey Documentary

I grew up playing in the backyard of one of these guys in White Bear Lake, MN.

Check out more about this film HERE.

Summer adventures and broken cameras

I ruined 2 digital cameras this past summer. Granted, they weren’t the industries leading models, but they were still nice, functional cameras worth a few pennies. Worse yet, one of them wasn’t mine.

During a two-week trip paddling the wilderness lakes and rivers of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area in Northern Minnesota, my camera went down. In my defense, I knowingly did nothing wrong.

At some point, the dry box that I kept it in obtained some moisture, either from dew or possibly a splash of water. Not realizing this I continued to store the camera in the box, sealing it tight when not in use. One morning as I went to snap a frame of my crusty eyed brother emerging from our tent, its functioning went awry.

To read the rest of this story click HERE.

Holy Hairless Face!

I can't put the exact number of days to it, but I can declare that it's been a long while since I last took a razor to my face. Wow, does it feel weird!

Today I went with my friends Shannon to Multnomah Falls in the Columbia River Gorge. Standing on the bridge overlooking the second highest year-round waterfall in the nation we were blasted with a cold mist from the rushing water. It felt almost as good as laying my bare face down on the pillow that first night.

Which is to say it felt really really good!

All Hallows Eve

It's a clear and moonless night outside the cabin (at least right now) and actually quite warm for this time of year by my standards. A Friday night and I have no doubt that nearly everyone that I know is pretending to be someone or something else and surrounding themselves with beverages, music, company, and festivities. I know I would be.

Back in Minnesota my family and loads of extended family and friends will be celebrating, temporarily unbeknown to my father, his recent retirement. After handing out candy with a few select friends as per tradition at my parents house, everyone else will begin strolling in with food and drinks that my mom prepared and stored in homes of the willing.

He didn't want to have a party because as my mom put it, "he didn't want to be the center of attention." Well Pa, I don't know another man who should be more celebrated than you. For your years of sacrifice and hard work so that my brothers and I could play baseball, feast on great meals, and learn the intricacies of camping and the outdoors-among many other things-I solute you. From my cabin here on Mount Hood-and so far away from where I should be right now-I raise a shot of Whiskey in your honor. May you enjoy this night and the many that come after it. You've earned it dad.

Instead, my night has consisted of stacking over a cord of wood into the dusty corners of the basement. I have another load coming in the morning which should last into the spring. Tischer will play with her ball in the driveway while I make trip after trip after trip through the doorway hauling quartered sections of Red Pine from the pile outside. A natural part of this life and this time of year, I know many others who are dealing with their firewood needs and it feels good to move with the flow of the season.

Lastly, since I don't have a camera currently and since I didn't dress up as anything but a "dude who hauls wood in between sips of beer" I will give you a taste of what my Halloween was like last year. Yes, I am "that guy" who dresses up his dog. For the record, at least based on my fuzzy memory, I didn't buy her the costume I just put it on her. I think?

Behold, Morning Time Spider Man and my Little Cowboy Dog. And another shot.

A week of welcoming, and Goodbyes

Holy cats, 1 whole week since I last put some words on this page. Well, as you can see I have started shaping the face of my new blog. With still a ways to go, I have some good insight, along with some good outside thoughts, as to how it might come together. In due time that is.

In the mean time, I have spent the last week recovering from an attempted seasonal cold assault (thanks to some strong Echinacea doses it never unleashed its full fury) and getting reacquainted with Portland and my friends down there.

Tischer and I spent a few nights on the familiar futon at the nunnery in SE. While there, we hiked a bunch. One day up Council Crest, another morning at Powell Butte, and then an early afternoon run up at Forest Park.

We said goodbye to Annie, who is heading back to Costa Rica for a few months. Our "schedules" and lives tend to overlap by just a hair. I, along with a packed room, spent Tuesday night at her farewell show.

I also had my first day of class on Tuesday. This quarter I am leading a weekly trail hike at one of any number of Portland's parks. This week we went back to Powell Butte because it was clear and sunny, a rarity once "winter" starts in this part of the Pacific Northwest, and visibility was good so we could see the prominent peaks that surround the Rose City. Plus, I had just been there the day before with friends and knew its condition.

I reminisced about eating handfuls of ripe blackberries there after a flat tire caused my mountain bike outing to end abruptly this past August. Only a few days later I was back in Minnesota grocery shopping with my mom and walking through the produce section I spotted these same berries. Only now they were nearly 6 bucks for a small quart! I must have eaten $60 worth of berries fresh off the branch, by MN price and quantity standards at least.

I came back to the cabin yesterday and am working on a few stories for a few different deadlines. Tomorrow allegedly brings rain, along with the 7 days after that. Then again, the forecast goes to crap once you hit 2-3 days out anyhow. I hope.

Although the last 2 weeks have been gloriously sunny, I raise a shot of Jameson in toast to the shoulder season. Here's to the soaking wet pre-winter Pac Northwest! I know it's coming. Like Tischer, I tilt my head and close my eyes hoping to resist it. Think Snow.

Paddle to Seattle - Check 'em out!

Paddle to Seattle!

A college buddy and his co-adventurer recently finished a 1,300 mile paddling trip through the Inside Passage. How sweet does that sound?! These guys are the real deal.

They are now in the process of putting all of their video footage into a film. Do yourself a favor and scope out their pictures and stories!

www.blog.dudesonmedia.com

My return to The Mountain

Last night, with a loaded truck bed and Tischer sitting co-pilot, I pulled the Red Ranger up in front of the cabin. We are back. Back to the familiar fog, moist everything, and even a pile of snow on either side of the front steps. Yep, we are back.

I spent the night getting my new full size bed (no more twin for this guy) made and working out the kinks of my wireless DSL connection. I could tell Tischer was excited. She made the rounds smelling the nooks and then for a while, as I made my way between truck and cabin, she just sat on the top of the steps. She wasn't so much watching me as she was taking in the whole scene.

She knows this place as good as any and I believe she was gazing into the dark and visiting her memories. Maybe she was anticipating the coming season? Maybe she was wondering where her neighborhood pooch friends were? Or maybe she was wishing she was someplace else? I can't answer those questions, but I can say with confidence that up on her perch, she was contemplative.

The cabin is good for that. This coming season is too. We are back.

Happy to be.

Only a few days left here in MN and I head back west.  Don't know when I'll be back again?  

Ma and I took Tischer out to this great park that I found while riding around Bald Eagle Lake with my dad a couple months ago.  Another fine October day.  Warm under the sun and since there wasn't a cloud up there, it wasn't hard to find those rays.

We went to the apple orchard afterwards.  Talk about nostalgia!  I hadn't been there in years, back when we would go as a family every fall.  Carmel apples, donuts, turnovers, cookies, pumpkins, cider, and apples.  Blind me and I still would have recognized it just by the smell.  So potent and soothing.  If that doesn't put the finishing touches on a return trip home, I don't know what does?

Maybe playing football in the front yard with Zack and Zeb while our dad cracks the front porch door and asks us why we don't go down the street to the park.  As someone older than me might say-If I had a nickel for every time...  

Duluth Indeed

Oh Duluth, beautiful Duluth.  

I've been thinking over the last few days since I left the western most point of Lake Superior about how fabulous this town is.  As friends can attest to, I am normally not one who shies away from boosting its reputation.  However, D-town hardly needs me to help it out with the plethora of great resources and mighty fine characteristics it can claim.

Specifically?  OK.  This picture was taken on the last day of my hike.  Starting next to the zoo in West Duluth, it was a 16 mile section that brought Tischer and I out to Jay Cooke State Park.  And like the previous 24 miles the day before, nearly all of it was on trail like you see me strolling down here.  

Get this; A city of 80,000 plus, has a continuous trail 40 miles long passing through its neighborhoods, along its creeks, by its business districts, and within designated nature areas, college campuses, and city parks-and nearly all of it looks, feels, and smells like what you would imagine your senses picking up on were it you walking through this frame.  

We're talking downtown Duluth and it hikes basically just like the northern 205 miles up the shore.  This my friends, is pretty phenomenal.  Prior to hiking these sections I was nervous it was going to taint my experience of the whole trail because I was focused on the couple miles that actually are pavement.  

Well I am happy to report that I was blown away with the route.  The planning, access, and maintenance was so impressive.  Duluth has a lot of obvious beauty but the Superior Hiking Trail allows you to see the not so obvious.   

Speaking of which, we are on the verge of lending our ears to a new Trampled By Turtles album.  The name?  Duluth.

An Outlet for Passion

On top of Ely's Peak and only a short distance from the official end (or beginning depending on where you started) of the Superior Hiking Trail. 

A beautiful day to walk through the woods.   I had many like these and just when I would start to feel spoiled, Tischer and I would be forced to try and sleep through a dramatic show of lightning and thunder-but I couldn't help but still feel spoiled.

How else would I gain appreciation?  How else would I believe in myself?  How else would I be humbled?  And how else would I get the chance to stand up and release my pride and enthusiasm into the wind?

On the Baptism River

One of many rivers and creeks that we crossed over the last 2 plus weeks, I got better as time went on with taking self portraits.  Pretty decent with the timer too.  

I'm not sure exactly how to get all the pictures up and viewable, so if anyone has ideas about that shoot 'em my way.  I definitely have some keepers in the bunch and I want interested parties to be able to see them all.

Superior Hiking Trail-Complete!

Done and done.  

Nearly 3 weeks ago Tischer and I were dropped off at the northern end of the Superior Hiking Trail (SHT) just a short distance from Canada.  Ahead of us lay 205 miles of wild trail following the rugged ridge line above Lake Superior back down to the town of Two Harbors.  After that, to fully finish a thorough thru-hike of the trail, 40 more miles waited for us throughout Duluth.

As my friend Billy turned my truck around and left us standing at the edge of the trail, Tischer bolted after him as he drove our "home" up the rural gravel road.  It was windy and chilly on that day, and I was a mix of thoughts and feelings.  And then we started hiking.

I had given us 3 weeks to finish the trail, not knowing how fast I would travel on average or how my body and mind would handle it.  Tischer was also a bit of a wild card.  Turns out we traveled faster than I would have thought, though in hindsight it makes perfect sense.

Counting that first full day, September 14, we spent 16 days on trail until walking into the outskirts of Two Harbors.  That also includes 2 days of rest of relaxation where we didn't walk at all.  One day was spent in Lutsen with friends visiting from Japan.  The other was spent waiting for my brother and Billy (and my resupply) along the Beaver River.

My original plan was to hike from Two Harbors along highway 61, over 20 miles, down to Duluth to finish the trail.  As the trip went on I realized how painful walking any distance on pavement is on my feet and legs.  After contemplating the idea over days, I finally decided to catch a ride between the towns.  

Thus, as I left the northern section of trail, heading roadside towards downtown Two Harbors on Monday the 29th of September a green jeep pulled up next to me.  Behind the wheel sat a guy who had just tried completing a thru-hike as well but ran into some knee issues and was forced to pull-out.  He gave me a lift to Betties Pies where I had planned on a slice of fresh pie.  

He joined me there and we sat for over an hour discussing long distance hiking and the like. Then he insisted on buying my serving as a small way of passing on the good fortune he's been handed over the years.  After dropping me off at Gitchee Gummee Park on the north end of Dtown, I waited for Billy to arrive with my truck.  I spent the next two days completing the 40 miles of trail through town.

The finishing touches came yesterday around 5:30PM when I strolled into Jay Cooke State Park.  250+ miles in 18 days.  I've got more posts to put up regarding this adventure.  Random numbers, stories, thoughts, ideas, and pictures-about 600 to be exact.  

I'll rest my feet, which seem to be the most sore of any other body part.  I've already mixed a stiff drink, and that's aside from the beers I had last night.  The missing pieces are everywhere.