Sacred Mountain Expedition

An Introduction

2008-01-03T15:39:00.000-08:00

Hello Interested Readers!

This blog chronicles our sacred mountain climbing expedition around the world in 2007. We began our global circumnavigation with the Winter Solstice of 2006 (Dec 21, 2006) climbing our local sacred mountain, Mt. Shasta, California. We ended the expedition on the following Winter Solstice (Dec 21, 2007) climbing the same peak, Mt. Shasta. We began and ended our circumnavigation at the same point in space, both location in California and location in our orbit around the Sun.

Through the year of 2007, we traveled eastward; first through central and south America, then to Africa and Europe, then to central Asia and East Asia, and back to the United States. The blog text is laid out by date, with the most recent posts appearing below. Please see the "Blog Archive" list (on the right) to see the stories of mountains we visited and climbed in chronological order.

Enjoy our journey!
Shelly and Rod

Mt Shasta

2007-12-30T17:23:00.000-08:00

Mt Shasta: 12/21-22/07, Winter Solstice
California, USA

Well Shasta, we came back to you. Safe and sound. Did you expect us? Oh, I see. You were along with us the whole time. Was it just to keep us safe? Or did you need the healing, the power, the experience of the other mountains too? Maybe so. Those peaks have given Rod and I a gift to hold onto, and they have given it to you too. Were we just a vehicle for you to ride to see your family? Were we an adventure you couldn't resist? Regardless, now I understand that you have made the same journey as we have, and you are stronger for it. I can feel it. And now you are a companion. You feel like an old friend. Coming back here really does feel like the closing of a circle. Well, it is. One full circle around Sun, one full circle around Earth. One full circle of seasons and stars. it is so safe and comfortable being back here with you.

Rod and I skinned up from Bunny Flat, stopped on the same ridge as last year and bowed to you. Then up to Horse Camp where we set up our tent (a much faster and more streamlined process than last time!), and enjoyed a full moon over your bright snowy edges. Wind howling. We melted snow, made dinner, then sat giggling and grinning stupidly at each other. We did it! It's done. We have circumnavigated the world climbing sacred mountains -an intentional yearlong meditation. A meditation on mountains, cultures, ourselves, our relationship, our fears, limitations, gifts, humor, impatience, misconceptions, and insights. A meditation on the sacred and the power of mountains in our lives and dreams. And we're back! It worked! Back at home, ease of old friends.
We popped open a bottle of nice Champagne (yup, carried the glass bottle and all -what's an extra few pounds on a night like this?). We popped it open and took swigs strait as we completely lost control. We were full volume. Swaying and hooting and howling at the moon. Our ruckus echoing off the ridges. Full moon, a splash for you Shasta, and tears. Celebration! We did it! We did it! We did it!

And yes Shasta, my old friend, remember back? You were the first big mountain I ever climbed. I was 18 years old. You pushed me, and tossed me, and worked my overconfident ass, and it did change my life. All I wanted to do after that was climb mountains... backpacking being just a skill needed to approach, rock climbing a skill to reach the peak, skiing a skill to better come down. We began this expedition with a bow to you, asking for your protection and blessing. You not only gave us that, you further decided to accompany us. And now we're back. Right here. The circumnavigation complete. We have visited, communicated with, paid our respect to, received teachings from, been thrown our by, and been given the gift of summiting a globe of mountains, all Apus really. Mountains held in sacred esteem by the peoples who know them. And we are now three bodies carrying the sacred light of these monuments to peace, love, and power from all around the world.

Peace

Mt Mauna Loa

2007-12-15T08:30:00.000-08:00

Mauna Loa: 12/14-16/07
Hawaii, USA

We are heading back home to the good ol’ U. S. of A.!!
We flew from Bangkok to Tokyo, then directly Tokyo to Kona, Hawaii, arriving the morning of the same day we left! Back in the USA… I can read all the signs, I can talk to everyone, they all understand everything I say!
Alarmingly, when I am carrying my bag into the hotel lobby to check in, an unknown man sees me coming, backs up, opens and holds the door for me! Twilight zone! Where are we?!! Then, strolling around our hotel that afternoon is a strange feeling of sponging up another new place, new culture, and yet the mild ease of belonging somehow. My first impressions are that the people are a bit rednecky, the streets are a little overly clean and ordered, and every stranger is totally familiar.

We stay in Kona that night, then get some breakfast at Lava Java and go food shopping at the natural food store. I can read all the labels. The brands are familiar. Once we have gathered what we need for a few days in the backcountry, we drive south to Hawaii Volcanoes National Park. After so many months in Asia, where driving is it’s own distinctive endeavor, the order and almost fanatical rule following on US roads is somewhat shocking. The patience when someone slows down, the staying inside the lines, the lack of honking, the courtesy... It’s disconcerting.

We can't find any fuel for our stove in Kona, so our first enterprise is to visit the ranger station, get our permit, and see if/where we can get fuel. Of course it is raining. It is raining, and it is the front of a large storm that will last through the days we are here. We ask for a permit to hike from the Mauna Loa Strip Road trailhead to the summit of Mauna Loa (13,501ft, 4115m) and reserve bed space in the Pu'u 'Ula'ula (Red Hill) cabin and Mauna Loa summit cabin along the way. The rangers look at us with bewildered eyes.
They call their boss over. “Nobody is up there.” They all stare at us. Then, fairly, start questioning us, trying to assess our experience. “Have you ever climbed a mountain before?”
“Yes, many.”
“Which ones?
I have trouble arriving at an answer for this. Should I start listing? I don’t know how to begin. Rod jumps in just naming mountain ranges where we have climbed, “The Sierra, the Cascades, the Andes, the Alps, the Caucus…”,
I start to feel weird, “… and others.”
The boss ranger says, “Well, no real mountaineer would go up there in a storm. I mean, it’s snowing up there!”
Maybe there something here we don’t know about? I thought Mauna Loa it is a fairly simple low angle walk on a marked trail over lava to the summit; no steeps, no glaciers, nothing treacherous. So we start asking the questions…
“Why, is there avalanche danger?” No.
“Chance of ice falls?” No.
“Danger of falling a distance on slick ice?”
“No, but the wind is so strong, it might blow you into the crater!”.
Whatever, just give us the permits, if it looks to treacherous, we’ll just turn around and come back. Really, the one thing to be concerned about, which the rangers didn’t emphasize, is visibility. If the snow storm reduces visibility enough, seeing the trail might be difficult, and since it is a broad lava field, it will be easy to get lost.

The ranger station doesn’t have any fuel we can use with our stove, so we head to the Ace Hardware store in the small town of Volcano. They don’t have any either. Rod figures out a way to rig a way our stove can work on the type of fuel bottles available. So maybe we’ll be OK. We probably have enough food that does not require cooking to make it through the climb anyway. It is cold and rainy, harsh reality after so many weeks in Thailand. Isn’t supposed to be warm in Hawaii?

We find a great B&B in Volcano. It is a big yellow old style Hawaiian ranch house, with some surrounding buildings. We get a room, (a room with showers and clean sheets (yippee!)) and a cat that keeps sneaking in and demanding pets. We unpack and pack up for our early start tomorrow morning, then head into the restaurant for dinner.

Wow! It is Christmas season! We have not encountered any Christmas stuff yet, and frankly, forgot that it is so soon. In the restaurant there is a large decorated Christmas tree. As we are eating, Christmas carolers come in and sing. With the cold rain outside, the burning fire against the wall, the carolers and decorations, it really begins to sink in that we are warmly coming home.

The next morning, at 6:30, we load our backpacks into the car (we decide to take a rope with us in case the visibility gets really bad), and drive up to the trail head (6,662ft). We almost run over an endangered Nene (Hawaiian goose). With our rain gear on, we start up the trail, the wind blowing hard. We find that it is hard to identify the trail because it is all just one field of grey rock. In fact, it would be impossible to find it if the tall cairns were not in place.
In Hawaiian, Mauna Loa means “Long Mountain”, and boy is that ever true! This volcano is a “shield volcano”, or basaltic volcano. Unlike the Cascade volcanoes (andesitic volcanoes) shield volcanoes are rarely explosive and mostly just oose. Basalt is a type of lava that is very fluid when erupted. Therefore these volcanoes are not steep (you can’t pile up a fluid that easily runs downhill), and are shaped just like a shield laid on the ground. Rod says the he will never climb a shield volcano again. It is the longest, boringest, walk; it feels like we are walking almost on flat ground (and we have to get up to 13,501ft, so you do the math). Then to add to it, we are walking on rugged lava rock the whole way, getting rained and sleeted on, and often find earth cracks, or break through thin crusts, or have to climb over lava tubes. It is slow going, to say the least.

In the afternoon, we arrive at the Red Hill cabin (10,035ft). It is hard to believe that this is only 7.5 miles from the trailhead. It is surprisingly cold up here, the humidity and elevation are not a good combo. We shiver our way through dinner (the rigged stove is working), drink a lot of hot tea, and climb into our chilly sleeping bags. I sleep in all the clothes I brought.

We wake up early to a freezing cabin and freezing rain splattering the windows. After breakfast and lots of hot tea, we bundle up and continue up the endless lava field. By mid morning we have reached the snow level. By lunch time, we are trudging through a blizzard, thanking each tall cairn marking our way. We finally reach the trail junction on the low rim of the large summit crater, 9.5 miles from the Red Hill cabin.
From this point it is 2.6 miles to the actual mountain summit on the right (but only about 600ft higher elevation), and 2.1 miles to the Mauna Loa Summit Cabin on the left (200ft elevation gain). We set out for the summit, dreading the reality of 2.6 there, 2.6 back, and then 2.1 to dinner. We walk for about one hour, and reach a point practically level with the farther away summit, but on the rim overlooking the crater. We stop here.

The summit of Mauna Loa is where the goddess Pele found refuge. Hawaiian legends say that volcano goddess Pele was driven from her home by her angry older sister, Na-maka-o-kaha'i because Pele had seduced her husband. Every time Pele would thrust her digging stick into the earth to dig a pit for a new home, Na-maka-o-kaha'i, goddess of water and the sea, would flood the pits. Pele eventually landed on the Big Island, where she made Mauna Loa her new home. Mauna Loa was so tall that even Pele's sister could not send the ocean's waves high enough to drown Pele's fires. So Pele established her home on its slopes.

We pay our respects to Pele, then turn around and head back to the trail junction. From there we suffer our way along the last 2.1 miles to the Summit cabin (13,250ft). I swear, these were the longest two miles of my life! 2.1 has just got to be a miscalculation. Rod and I stumble into the cabin as the sun is setting. In a blank stupor, we heat up some water for tea and get dinner started. After eating a bit we feel better and start to plan out our descent. Could we do it in one day? If we can, then we can eat all our food now, and wouldn’t that be nice! Yeah, lets walk all the 19+ miles down to the car tomorrow. That sounds sensible. Proof that altitude affects judgment?

The next morning, we wake before dawn, in order to make it to the car before dark. When I walk out to the water tank, I find that the tap has frozen solid. We use the water in our bottles (we filled everything up last night) for breakfast, put on our down and gore-tex and head out with headlamps lighting our way. The sunrise over the snowy slopes and ocean is gorgeous. We even get a great view of Mauna Kea before the days worth of blizzard hits us. We try to make good time down through the blizzard, it wouldn’t be possible with out those great tall cairns. Our clothes were covered with a layer of ice… We are in Hawaii, right?!
We struggle to get to the Red Hill cabin for lunch. We are hungry and out of water. The cabin is so warm and nice compared to what we have been walking through all day. We make and drink endless cups of tea, eat a casual lunch, and just lounge around for too long a time. Continuing the walk to the car does not sound fun, but we don’t have dinner for tonight, so we better be on our way. Whose crazy idea was this; doing it all in one day?!

Our knees and feet are killing us, the elevation markers seem dreadfully far apart, we groan with each big step down. As the sun begins to set, finding the trail becomes more difficult. Things become tense as we try, unsuccessfully, to beat the spinning of Earth to our car. With headlamps out, we eventually make it. Wordlessly, we throw our packs in the trunk, peel off our boots and socks, preferring thong shoes, and collapse into the car. We drive back to the yellow B&B. When we get out of the car, neither of us can walk, our legs have just seized up completely. We gimp into our room, then make it just in time for the last dinner seating.

It is so pleasant to be exhausted and eating good food and drinking good wine with a fire and a Christmas tree and Christmas music. Our time in Hawaii is the perfect buffer between all the places we have been, and coming back to California... just loosely easing us in. Thanks to Pele for a safe journey on her mountain,
and
Mele Kalikimaka!

Phi Phi

2007-11-22T08:19:00.000-08:00

Climbing in Phi Phi: 11/22-12/10/07

Thailand

Ode to the sweet luxury of the porch. I'm sitting here, on our little bamboo bungalow’s porch, chewing my breakfast Pad Thai and sipping the water out of a coconut. This morning, I did as I have done most every morning here on Phi Phi Island, Thailand. I wake up, climb out from under the mosquito netting, put my bathing suit on, walk out of the bungalow onto the beach, slip into the cool morning sea, swim out to the buoy and back looking at the fish, dry off by laying in the sun, go back to the bungalow for a shower and get dressed, eat Pad Thai breakfast with Rod on the porch (he has either Muesli or Fried Rice), and think about what we will climb today. I think i could stay here forever!

Our bungalow is at the end of a long beach. Tonsai Village is at the other end (about a 5 min walk) and on this side is the rock climbing area, Tonsai Tower. A massive overhanging chunk of lime stone, Tonsai Tower has over 20 well bolted sport climbs. The jungle behind our bungalow, between the tower and us, has a resident family of monkeys that steal our food while we are climbing, and turn over the garbage cans here on the beach. A couple of times, i have walked out in the morning to confront one scavenging up on our porch. They are quite aggressive, sneaky, and smart... a constant source of entertainment. In fact, right now, I am watching two climb up a papaya tree and trying to knock a fruit down. Oh, they got it. Now the biggest is taking bites of the fruit, while the juveniles are eager on the periphery to pick up what is left. Little fights break out with dramatized screaming and bolting.

Ahh, another regular day in Phi Phi (pronounced Pee Pee, and so therefore unfortunately the town Phuket is similarly said). Today, after breakfast, we will do some yoga and read on the porch until about 10:30. Earlier in the morning the Tower is in the sunshine. We try climbing in the sun, but it is so hot and humid, that we are literally dripping with sweat instantly, and our sweaty hands can't hold onto the slippery limestone. After 10:30 the rock is in the shade, and the heat and sweat are manageable. It took us about a week to discover how to manage the mosquitoes however. Finally we found that burning a mosquito incense, available in town, kept the pests in check.
Like I said, the climbing here is good fun. There are many routes that are good warm ups and great to build confidence on lead. We amuse ourselves with everything from simple satisfying leads to thrilling frightening leads to "no way will I lead that, maybe we can top rope it" climbs. And plenty to fill each day without getting bored. We will climb until about 2:30, then back to the bungalow for swimming and reading until evening.

Our bungalow is in a great location, 2 min walk from the climbing, right on the beach, and shade from Tonsai Tower covers it from about 1:00 on. It is cool and comfortable when the rest of the beach and village are sweltering. We usually walk along the beach to the village an hour or two before dinner time, so that we can go to the internet cafe or pick up anything we need in the market. Although we have tried most of the restaurants in the village, we keep returning to the Le Grand Bleu - by far the best restaurant in town. It is in a beautiful traditional wood building, decorated with plants, Thai paintings and fabrics, and staffed by nicest friendliest women. And you wouldn't believe their red curry!
Last night, on the way to the village, we passed through a big gathering of people watching something going on in the harbor, most of the village was there. A barge with a crane had been called to rescue a sinking ship. It was all kinds of chaos with men on the barge and ship yelling at each other, and swimming to put slings around the ship, and maneuvering a flat boat with a water pump, and the crane trying not to break the ship in half. In the time i was watching, the ship was sinking about one foot every 15 min. It was very exciting. When we came back after dinner they had it back afloat... it all worked out somehow.

On days we are not climbing (come on, we can't climb everyday, gotta rest too :) we have a few enjoyable reserve activities. A favorite is to head to the book store in the village. They serve great coffee, and we sit and read and pet the sweetest yellow lab who is always hanging out on the sun deck. She mostly sleeps, but sometimes she excitedly jumps up and soon we hear the bicycle coming... her owner calls her, and off she runs to the beach for a swim, which is her favorite thing.

A walk through town and up over to the other side of island is always an adventure. The path starts with the tsunami trail; which is both a planned escape-to-high-ground route should another tsunami hit, and a memorial to the devastation of the 2004 tsunami that hit much of Thailand. From the top of the island, we see the ruins of buildings and the broken vegetation of areas not yet cleaned up. One man we spoke with, who was here for the tsunami, said he was asleep in his room on the 2nd floor when it happened. With all the noise, he woke up and looked downstairs to see his house and the whole ground under churning water. He was fine, his house stayed standing, but most of the village was completely destroyed, and he lost many friends. It is amazing though how the people here bounce back, rebuild, and maintain such a cheerful attitude. After admiring the views from the top of the island, we walk down the steep slippery path through the noisy jungle and onto the beaches on the other side. One of these has some beautiful bungalows and a tasty restaurant. We stay for dinner, but then have the scary walk back through the jungle at night; homicidal psycho jungle roots grabbing our feet.

On calm afternoons, when the sea is flat, we hire a flatboat to take us out to one of the small rock islands surrounding Phi Phi. In the shallow bay on the south side of the rock, is the Best Snorkeling Ever! Wow! I am truly amazed by the abundant life, the staggering diversity, the electric colors, and the warm crystal clear water. And we are the only people as far as we can see. We snorkel and swim around, we dive off the bow, we stop to snack on bananas and grilled squid with chili sauce, we snorkel some more... then the sun gets low and it's time to head back. Watching the sunset over the strange jungle topped rock formations, tired and relaxed from swimming, while bouncing along the waves may be my fondest memory of all our time here.

Now it is just a few more days of this paradise. From here, we fly back to the U.S., to climb Mauna Loa, Hawaii, and then back to California. The trip is coming to an end, our circumnavigation is almost complete. Ahh, but it will be so hard to leave here! In fact, Rod just suggested that we don't. We could just stay awhile. It is certainly hard to leave Phi Phi, I hope to get back here someday... and the adventure continues on.

Mt Agung

2007-11-15T08:16:00.000-08:00

Mt Agung (Gunung Agung): 11/9-17/2007
Bali, Indonesia

An aside:
On our way to Bali, in one series of flights, we discovered the polar opposites of airports: Worst airport ever - Delhi, India, and best airport visited - Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. We flew from Katmandu, on Cosmic Air (not recommended), to Delhi, where we had to stay in the transit area for 6 hours. There was a restaurant and a book shop, but no ATMs or money exchange in the area, and we were not allowed to go into the rest of the airport without a visa to India, everyone there was coming from another country (so didn’t have local currency)! And that cluster was just the tip of the dysfunctional iceberg. From there we flew overnight to Kuala Lumpur, and into the ultimate juxtaposition. A very well organized, beautiful, clean airport, many coffee shops, restaurants, and shops (several well placed ATMs), and with a nice hotel inside the terminal, so transiting travelers did not have to go through customs or anything. We got a room, slept until 1:00pm, and caught our flight into Denpasar, Bali, without leaving the airport.

OK, now in Bali:
From the Denpasar we get a taxi to the quiet beach town of Sanur. What a pleasure! Our hotel is beautiful; fresh flowers, clean white linen, geckos on the wall, the sweet fragrances of Plumeria and ocean, the staff is very friendly and welcoming. What a pleasant shock after our time in China, Tibet and Nepal! We get settled in and walk out into the humid heat looking for dinner.

Oh my, the Bali food! Raw chilies, shrimp paste, palm sugar and tamarind. Turmeric, ginger, roasted coconut, peanuts, musk limes. Anchovies, fresh sambal (spicy chopped chili in sweet soy sauce), goat meat and pounded fish. Yum!!! And some local arak (alcohol from fermented palm fruits) to top it all off! Yippee!

We decide to give ourselves a beach-lounging day before heading up to Mt. Agung. After a sweaty morning run, then a sweaty breakfast, we get into our bathing suits and plop our white asses under an umbrella on the beach. We spend the day reading, napping, having banana milks,

getting pedicures, swimming… basking, basically. It was excellent.

We do not head up into the interior of the island the next morning because our run and strenuous basking the day before have given rod a pulled calf muscle. We happily stay in Sanur at our great hotel and bask some more. In the afternoon, we take a boat out to the reef for some snorkeling. On the way home from dinner that night, we pass a temple with the strangest melodic jangly sounds of bells and drums bursting through its gates. We stop and listen to the traditional music played by an all women gamelan (orchestra of 35 to 40 musicians) sitting on the floor. It is an odd, clangy, mystic, and sometimes haunting sound.

The next morning, after breakfast, internet, and hair cuts for both of us (it was so hot, I cut most of my hair off), we rent a car to drive to Agung. It is a little heap of junk, but we think it will be OK… time will tell. Driving is scary! It is hard to explain the chaos of narrow roads, no agreed upon driving rules or etiquette, and getting used to being on the left side instead of the right. On top of that, so many things to look at! Wood workshops building furniture and doors, rock sculptures, temples everywhere. And every business, home, or building had a high place where offerings are made daily. Most people also put little palm woven bowls with rice and flowers and such, as offerings, on the doorstep or entry way. We drive to the town of Candidasa, and find a beautiful hotel to stay in. We play drums on our porch overlooking the sea while watching the sun set.

We spend the next morning swimming and drinking tea on the porch, then set out to see the Temple (Pura) Besakih on the South West side of Gunung Agung. This temple complex is Bali’s most important. It is really 23 separate but related temples, built at various times, but thought to have originated about 2000 years ago. Usually each temple is devoted to a specific God or group of Gods. Balinese religion is an interesting combination of Hinduism, Buddhism, Malay ancestor cults, and animistic and magical beliefs and practices. The island is the only remaining stronghold of Hinduism in the Indonesia archipelago (which is mostly Muslim). The crater edge of Agung’s summit looms over the complex when the clouds decide to reveal it, and many annual festivals are devoted to the Gods descending from the mountain. Gunung Agung is the abode of Batara Gunung Agung, also known as Mahadewa, the supreme manifestation of Shiva. We walk through the temples and are stunned by the unique rock work, strange lines of split gates, and grass roofed meru towers. The afternoon light fades as we decide to return to the car. As we walk down we turn, look up, and get a rare and lucky view of the mountain through the clouds.
We decide to drive to the town of Sideman to stay that night and arrange a guide to climb the mountain. It is now dark and we get lost on the wrong road. We attempt asking directions periodically, do a lot of U-turns, get cranky, but finally get onto a road that should take us into the town. The little heap of junk we rented is smoking. We follow the steep road down into a valley full of rice paddies, and then up the windy other side. Just when we see the soft lights of Sideman, the car dies. So here we are, on a steep windy road, in the middle of rice paddies, alone, in the dark with a smoking heap. Should we sleep here? How far is the town exactly? Can we fix the car and get there? Pretty soon a motorcyclist turns the corner and stops, and then his friend comes by and stops. One of the guys works at a hotel up the road and calls the owner to come and get us in his car. But before the owner can get there, we get the car started again, and drive it the short distance to the hotel, which turns out to be another great place. We have dinner served to us on our porch, and eat overlooking the river valley.

The next day we hang out at the hotel, do yoga, and arrange for a guide and driver to pick us up at 3 am the next morning (11/15/07). He is on time, and we drive an hour to another temple complex on the south side of Agung, Pura Sambu. There, we climb the steep stairs up to the first level of the temple, then around (clockwise) to the trail up the mountain in the back. The path up is slippery, with vines and roots winding through the slick earth. Our guide, a nice 34 year old father and high school student (very proud of going to school), stops two times to make offerings to the mountain. We emerge above tree line as the sun rises, and make it to the rocky, very windy summit (3142m) before the usual clouds form. We make offerings of bananas and arak by throwing them over the steep edge of the summit crater (during some festivals, they also throw goats and flowers in as offerings). It is beautiful up there, and surprisingly cold for being at latitude 8. We eat a snack and enjoy the cloudless view before heading back down. We visit the temple at the bottom, then drive back to the hotel, arriving after dark.

After one last breakfast overlooking the brilliant green valley, and getting a special morning view of the mountain, we get back into our car hoping to make it back to Sanur without breaking down. Of course we don’t. The first time the car dies, a policeman helps us push it off the road and get it started again, the second time we are fed up and walk to a roadside café to call the guy we rented from to bring us a new car. After much mixed English and Bahasa Balinese on both sides, we manage to borrow a cell phone and get a hold of another car. Back in Sanur that afternoon, free of car responsibilities, we swim and bask until sunset.

That night, our last night in Bali, we walk past the temple where we saw/heard the music before, and luck out again! This time there is a smaller orchestra, a gong kebyar, playing the strange music. We sit down on the edge of the raised floor to listen. After a song or two, a woman gets up and begins to dance. The dance is amazing; the woman has such precise control over everything from her finger tips to her neck to the arches of her feet. The next song, two more women get up and join her. What a treat to come across this! The best part is that this is a local, informal, gathering at the temple, not a show for tourists, they are just practicing and laughing, the whole family is there… we just luck out to be walking by.

For me, the meaningful part is to see the young girls, maybe 8 or 9 years old, watching the women dance and trying to emulate them, trying to remember all the moves in admiration. This is a culture that, despite the influence of extensive tourism, religious tension with its government, and exposure to modern global culture, holds its traditions and beliefs out in celebration. The young are eager to learn and be a part of their history and customs, enabling its enduring richness.

Bali is a true gem.

Katmandu

2007-11-04T08:13:00.000-08:00

Kathmandu: 11/3-8/07
Nepal

We stopped in Kathmandu for a few days on our way from Tibet to Bali... didn't do much there except eat and sleep and eat and morning yoga and eat and shop and eat. After the basic and bland food of Tibet, and the MSG loaded food of China, the complex tastes and fresh ingredients of Nepali food were heavenly. Here are some photos of our daily walks through this incense smelling, crowded, eye catching, and very interesting town:

Afternoon skies over the Durbar Square in the central city

The crowded streets of the old town. Wonderful smells of food and shops selling all sorts of interesting things. Midday. A man selling birds walking around the Durbar square.

Women selling flowers, given as offerings at the many shrines, on the street corner.

Many places along the streets are small doorways that lead into large open squares. These places are filled with stupas, sculptures, and shrines. Walking through town is like walking through an unorganized dispersed museum... with pieces dating from thousands of year ago up to the present.

It all seems to work somehow... the open and chaotic ways of the city and people are everywhere, but it all flows in peaceful energy.

In a large square between two narrow streets ladies dry and sift their basmati rice.

Men playing chess on the street.Stupas are everywhere, often squished between buildings. Kids use these areas as parks and play areas (even some cricket games).Pigeons rule the streets! It doesn't help that these ladies love to feed them!

Blogging Resumes!

2007-11-04T02:54:00.000-08:00

Hallo! We are out of China's ability to censor. Yah, that was super annoying, but at the same time,... a bit flattering. I will be adding photos slowly, so check starting with Mt Belukha. Peace.

Mt Kailash

2007-10-26T00:13:00.000-07:00

Mt Kailash: 10/25-27/07

Tibet

Journal entry 10/24 : I hear a rustling of thick plastic packaging in the cot next to me. Our food is there, and so is something else. I see the tail flash as I look over our bags of food with my headlamp. A mouse! I put on my headlamp, grab the bag, slip on my sneakers, and walk out the door. In the freezing dusty wind I untie the bag and dump the contents on the ground. The mouse, startled among the packages of nuts and peppered tofu, pauses in the lamp beam a moment before running off. I get back into the room and climb back into my sleeping bag. I hope there are no more disturbances tonight as I want a good night sleep. Tomorrow I begin the kora of Mt Kailash (our Tibetan driver calls it Kailashi). This is the mountain that began this crazy idea of a trip. This is the mountain whose image stuck in my mind for years and years, never letting me go. I know I am meant to come here. Well, for tomorrow, I prey for the enlightenment of all beings. I hope that you, Kailash, will dissolve the bad karma I have accumulated in this life, and in past lives. I prey that you will teach me as I walk around you, and you will bless me with your essence to take home and share with others.

A little background : Mt Kailash, or Gan Rinpoch, may arguably be the most sacred mountain in the world (Mt Sinai is the only other one even close). The Mountain holds a divine place in Buddhists, Hindus, Jains and Bön-Po religions. Every summer thousands and thousands of devout pilgrims, from across South and East Asia, make the difficult journey to this remote spot to walk the kora around the mountain. It is said that Buddha left an active mandala here, and the sacred vibe or energy around this mountain is so strong it is almost visible. In this blog entry I am simply putting my daily journal entries during our trip to, around, and from Kailash. For a more detailed description of sacred Kailash and the kora route, take a look at this excellent essay: http://www.passages.org.uk/essays/kailas/index.html

Now, back up a few days -

Journal entry 10/21 : After breakfast at Cafe Nomad, we were picked up at 8:30 by our driver and started the 4 day drive west. We drove past several beautiful monastery/temples. It seems that every little village has a monastery! Into Shigatze for lunch. This city has a huge monastery/temple. After lunch we drove to Lhatse, jumbled town, but we found a hotel and were told it was "very clean" compared to what lies ahead. The drive was on the new paved road, but very slow because of all the police checkpoints. We ate at a Tibetan restaurant and met some Austrians. Shared a bottle of wine. It's cold.

Journal entry 10/22 : We left early and continued west. Soon the road turned to dirt. We went over many high passes; all the summits covered with prayer flags and some with Chortens. Stopped for lunch (yak butter tea and beef noodle) at a family's house. Cold and very windy. Driving on... we got a hotel (with warm electric blanket!) in Saga. Rod got altitude headache (4800m) and I am feeling sick with a cold. Saga gets on the list of worlds most crappie cities. The Chinese have come into the nice Tibetan villages and built ugly cheep buildings and destroyed any charm.

Journal entry 10/23 : We thought about staying here because I have a cold, and the hotel has a bathroom and electric blanket, but no, better to get there. The road turned to dirt just out of town, dusty morning. Passed tents with strange tractor/trucks, and saw a group of 4 people walking with baskets on their backs behind 6 packed up Yaks... real Tibetan Plateau Nomads! Had lunch at an adobe house/hotel with some Czechs who just did the Kailash kora. They said it was cold and dirty. We drove to the very pour and dirty village of Paryang. Settled in then sat reading in the sun outside until dinner time. At the restaurant saw 2 cyclists arrive... wow! Riding these roads over such long distances and hard conditions! Sleep in our little cold room.

Journal entry 10/24 : We were woken up at 5 am by a big diesel truck parked directly outside our door starting up and filling our room with exhaust. The light from the headlights glaring through the cracks of the door. At 9:30 we finally left the town, after making breakfast and tea in the room, and trying to wash up a bit. Drive, Drive, to lunch (noodles) with a cute cat walking around. Drive, Drive, hit a rock and have to change the tire. Finally drove up to Chiu monastery above the sacred Manasarovar Lake. MAGICAL! The flags up on the rocks, prayer wheels, carved stones, yak skulls. We could see Kailash just across the valley. We got a room in Darchen and walked around the dirty town. We are here after the 'official season' has ended, so there are only a few other tourists/pilgrims. But, dinner with two people just back from the kora, glowing. We start tomorrow.

Journal entry 10/25 : As the full moon rose over the North face of Mt Kailash, I crouched and dug a hole in the soft dirt. The biting wind, dogs sparing, or yaks moaning couldn't cut the magic of the moonrise. I rolled up the little paper scrap and placed it in the hole, then quickly covered it as my body shook with cold. The seed I planted? My Voice. My Voice. The voice needed to be a writer, the voice needed to lead people, the ability to speak my true self/intention/voice. If I can always be true with my voice, then I may be able to avoid in the future the mistakes and failures that haunt me from my past. Also, I think I will leave my bole fleece hat on the pass summit tomorrow. It is tradition to leave behind a piece of clothing to symbolize leaving your old life and entering a purer, post-kora life. It will be a symbol of my feelings of regret and failures. I will leave all my failures behind me and enter a new life of having let them go and avoiding new ones.
This morning we started the Mt Kailash kora. A freezing morning in the guesthouse after a night of many shivers and little sleep. We walked through town to the 108 prayer wheels. My glove-covered hand spun each wheel as the sacred walking meditation began (clockwise). We walked along the dry path as the sun got warmer, stopping at the first 'prostration point'.

Om mani padme hum. Prayer flags and carved stones framed our first view of Kailashi. The pure white of the glaciers beaming over the dark sheer rocks.
As we continued up the long valley along the West side of the mountain we passed endless carved stones and prayer flags. The peak came in and out of view, with each new view point marked by prayers flying in the icy wind. Holding my 108 prayer beads, I chanted my prayers to Kailashi. I preyed for the enlightenment of all beings, in particular my friends and family, and for the dissolution of my bad karma from this life and past ones. Tomorrow I will repeat all these. After lunch, we came to a big rock face that marks the Northwest ridge of the mountain. Here the trail gets closest to the rock massif. We dropped our packs and walked up to the wall. I did the prostration motions I saw in Lhasa on the side of the mountain, three times. I preyed for enlightenment of all beings and for dissolution of my bad karma. I touched both hands to the wall.
We passed a monastery, or gompa, high on the opposite hillside, the Chuku Gompa. The area around it was scattered with caves. These are the super charged places. I would love to visit them, but I'm getting tired. Someday I come back, maybe. I filled up our water bottles under the big walls. I took photos of mountains, icefalls, birds, deer, yaks. I meditated. I walked. We finally made it to the Dira Phuk Gompa... and to our guest house. Both are basking in the unreal view of the North face of Kailash. So steep and sharp and powerful. The monastery has many chortens (stupas) outside and prayer flags, all facing the mountain. It is funny; the monks like to come down to the guest house because it is run by two young women. They sit in the kitchen/dining/lounging room and drink yak butter tea and eat tortillas (well, I'm sure they have a Tibetan name) and flirt with the women. We fixed dinner and sat in that room too, because it is the only room with heat or light, and enjoyed watching the drama.
Suddenly there was some commotion outside. I walked out to see two herds of Yaks, loaded up with bags and blankets, being driven by men yelping and haa-ing. The yaks had blankets over their backs and the men wore traditional cloths and red traditional boots. Two of the Yakmen came into the warm guest house room. They were dirty and shy. They had some warm butter tea and asked if they could stay here for the night. They pitched their tents and herded the Yaks together for sleeping. When inside our room getting ready for bed, I remembered I must plant my seed today. So, I went out into the icy wind in my long underwear to scratch a hole in Kailash dirt and bury my paper, moonrise.

Journal entry 10/26 : The morning has been very cold. Very cold across the river and very cold up the valley to the Northwest of Kailash. I tried to get connected and do some prayers, but the intense cold kept me focused on just walking. When we emerged over a knoll we entered the sunshine! Finally! We stopped to make tea. I have heard that during the 'summer season' there are tents and stands selling tea and snacks to pilgrims along the kora. We are walking unusually late in the year, so we have to deal with the cold, but also get to have the trail unmarred by enterprising folk... or even other hikers, only a few other pilgrims the whole kora! After tea and some food we continued up to the pass summit (5600 m). I left my hat, and past life, for Kailash to hold on to and bless, then made an offering of water, rice, and incense. When I walked away, I didn't look back.
As I walked back toward Rod, a dog who had come with some other pilgrims (who were doing the 50km kora in one day!), was still lying there, and started to whine. It then got up and hobbled down the rocks. It's back right leg was in really bad shape. It must have post-holed through the snow to the rocks below and twisted or pinned its ankle. The ankle was completely broken and only attached by skin. The pour boy was hobbling on the stump of leg and bleeding down the pass. His people were way ahead, not waiting. Later they stopped and tied a rag around the wound, but the dog had to negotiate slippery ice and big rocks for ~20km back to the town... and then what? With its leg/paw flopping every step... it was very upsetting. We tried to give it some meat to eat when we caught up with it, but it wouldn’t eat. We tried to give it some water later, but it wouldn’t drink, only ate snow. Its people were so far ahead now, and it was slowing down and loosing blood. I watched it walking near us for several hours incase it collapsed, but when we crossed the river, we lost sight of it, and never saw it again. Sitting here tonight I think it is probably collapsed and freezing somewhere behind us. Poor dog. Suffering and trying to stay with its people. My new life from Kailash, with my regrets left behind, began with the saddest suffering sweet loyal dog who probably never made it. Suffering. So, second day of Kailash kora was emotional. Kailash gave me a teaching. This dog suffering through it's kora, and I couldn’t do anything to help, and I have to forgive myself for it. Not hold regrets about the dog, I have to accept its suffering and be thankful to it for bringing out my love. It challenged me the whole way down into a new life.
Now I am sitting in bed after dinner and hot Tang. We walked into the Zutrul Phuk monastery at 6:00 and the friendly monk brought us hot water. Our room is 5 cots around a low table. A dirt floor, and dirt walls with cracks in them, one window, and wood beams on the ceiling. The beams have small wood slats connecting them, then grass matting on top of that. Above that is more dirt so the roof is a dirt floor that can be walked on. There are similar rooms on both sides of ours, and a temple up the steps to the left of the courtyard that our door opens to. The monk played a drum as the sun went down. I hope the dog made it back to town. Full moon on a windy night.

Journal entry 10/27 : The last day of the kora, we slept in and felt comfortable in our mud room at the monastery. The monk let me inside the temple part; so many paintings of individual lamas on hanging fabrics, "thangkas". And there was a cave in the back. I turned the prayer wheels and put a white scarf in the cave for the dog. Then we packed up and started the last section of trail. Rod began to get the cold I had a few days ago, so we walked slowly. Many carved rocks with paintings, and stone slabs with carved prayers piled up on walls.
The wind was gusting down the valley as we turned right for the last stretch to town. I put my bandana over my face to block the dust. When we got into town, it was striking how dirty it is. How much the Chinese "communist" government is neglecting this place or trying to eradicate its people is astonishing. No running water, no electricity (well, the Chinese police building has electricity, but it is the only building in the area, everyone else has either a generator or nothing), plastic garbage everywhere... I walked to the 108 prayer wheels where we started and spun each one with a prayer.
After washing up in the bowl in our room, I went to get lunch to bring back to Rod in bed. I saw the Corsican woman we met at the monastery last night. She is a bit crazy, but cool... a 50 year old woman hitchhiking through Tibet alone, and climbing high elevation mountains for a year in Pakistan, Tibet, and Nepal. Right on!
My first Kailash kora is finished. I'm not buzzing, but I do feel different somehow. I feel more peaceful. Who knows, maybe I will see how this effects me as I pay attention over time. It was certainly a powerful journey around a very powerful mountain.

Journal entry 10/28 : We left Darchen before dawn and drove in the cold until sunrise (8:45 sunrise - we are so far west but China refuses to do the time zone thing) and to lunch in Paryang. I had to stop a Chinese man who was throwing rocks at a cornered dog! We continued on in the hot afternoon sun to the town of Saga. The car overheated once, and the dust was terrible, but the ride beautiful. We got to listen to two new tapes! (Our driver only played one tape the whole ride to Darchen... over and over) In Saga we went to an internet cafe, then to dinner (with a bottle of wine!). The coveted electric blanket was so hot all night, and Rod was sick and kicking a lot.

Journal entry 10/29 : We left Saga early with the intention of making it to Shigatse tonight. Rod slept in the backseat most of the morning. Had lunch in an unknown town. I asked where the bathroom was and they said, "behind that building", I went there, no toilet or pit. Just go wherever... I peed by a cow. Trouble at one check point, and several stops to let the overheating Land Cruiser cool down made us late. We stopped in Lhatse for the night.
Journal entry 10/30 : Drove to Shigatse and I toured the Tashilhunpo Monastery, home of the Panchen Lama (at least traditionally- now he is kidnapped and held in Beijing). So cool! Rod stayed in the restaurant and the driver washed the car... Yes! Less dust! We then drove back to Lhasa, arriving after dark. Good to be back, took a hot shower! The Kailash trip ended, very good. We got some dinner and felt like old hats in Lhasa, knew people, knew where things are, etc. After dinner we walked the kora around the Jokhang Temple, then climbed to bed.

Many more photos - to see, click the photos link at the top right of the page, and go to the Kailash set!

Lhasa

2007-10-15T21:27:00.000-07:00

Lhasa: 10/14-20/2007
Tibet

I complimented the young woman who works in the shop next to our guest house. Her English was perfect. How did she learn it so well? That's when she told us the most extrodinary story. And after what we have seen in Tibet, I am sure hers is one of a million similar stories.

When she was in grade school, her parents pounced on an opportunity for their daughter to escape communist China. 13 Lamas (Lamas are like Tibetan Buddhist Priests), with the trust of worried parents, took a school class of children across the border to India to live in the refuge of safety around the Dalai Lama. She and her classmates traversed on foot, for 30 days, the highest passes of the Himalaia, camping under the stars. She said she was very tired; these kids would walk all day, then cook dinner and collapse into their bed rolls... for 30 days! Once in India, they received a good education, raised by the Lamas and Monks, and began working as young adults and sending money home to their parents.

Soon however, each of the kids got frantic letters from their parents. The Chinese government discovered that they were missing, and threatened their parents and siblings if they didn't return to Tibet. So the kids came back to Lhasa to save their families.

Now, this university educated 24 year old woman is trying to squeak out an existence in Lhasa, Tibet. Because she defected, the government will not allow her to hold a job. They forced her back, but she is forbidden to work! She is working under the table in a little store, speaking perfect English to tourists buying a coke or little souvenirs. And all of her classmates are in Lhasa too, doing the same thing. They have no future, at least not legally.

It is amazing to me, China is slowly and systematically destroying the Tibetan people. Chinese are encouraged to move to Tibet and open businesses. Yet at the same time, Tibetans have a very hard time, jumping through endless hoops, starting a business, or owning/selling real estate in their own town. Most Tibetans can not get passports to travel to other countries, and sometimes even traveling to mainland China is forbidden. The government is making it extremely difficult for Tibetans to get advanced education, or to succeed financially. Stupidly, the Chinese government is sewing the seeds for rebellion and crime by preventing Tibetans from holding good jobs and denying educated young people opportunity. From what we saw, the Chinese are isolating the Tibetans and keeping them impoverished while taking over their cities and controlling their economy. Lhasa is now 75% Chinese! It is Tragic. FREE TIBET!

But there is hope, the Tibetans are a tough and resilient people. They have to be, living at 4500m on a dry and windy plateau. Fueling the government's frustration, they remain extremely religious, and keep a strong underground communication network. They continue their traditions and defiantly dress in their traditional clothes.

One morning I woke up thinking that the hotel was on fire. I walked outside to find the dawn light of Lhasa blocked by a dense cloud of sweet smelling smoke. Incense is being burned, a lot of it! Around the Jokhang Temple, are huge stone incense burners, stuffed full of smoldering Juniper branches and sending thick columns of smoke into the air. This morning, all of the burners were pumping at full capacity. Later we noticed that most of the mountain peaks surrounding the city had plumbs of smoke rising from them... what is going on? With some careful questioning, we learned that today, the USA gave the Dalai Lama the Congressional Gold Metal of Honor (Oct. 16, 2007)!

It was a little embarrassing that, as Americans, we did not know this. Of course, there was no media coverage of it available, and all Internet searches were blocked. But the Tibetans somehow knew, and because they can not gather, demonstrate, or express their happiness any open way, they celebrated with more subversive means. They burned an excessive amount of incense (really, the city was covered in smoke), those who owned businesses did not open that day, and most dressed in traditional clothes even if these were not their typical clothes.

In response, the police closed just about everything to tourists and locals alike. We wanted to walk up a sacred mountain just outside of town that day, but when we took the taxi to the trail head, we found it blocked by police who said it was "closed". When Rod (loudly) asked the policeman if it was closed because of the Dalai Lama, the people on the street looked down and smirked as the policeman said "no". When we drove away the taxi driver nervously chuckled and said "yes, because Dalai Lama". We couldn't visit the Ramoche Temple either... it was "closed" too.

However, we did get to see some of the amazing sights of Lhasa. Of course we toured the Potala Palace (accompanied by a 'guide', as required), which was beautiful and strange and thought provoking. This palace, built in 7th century AD, was the seat of the Tibetan government and the winter residence of the Dalai Lamas. For me, the most interesting part was the huge three dimensional golden mandalas, and the chorten tombs of previous Dalai Lamas. Many Tibetans walk the 'kora' (circumnavigation route) around it all day, and many do the kora with full prostrations at each step.

We visited the Sera monastery, about 5km North of Lhasa. Founded in 1419, became one of Lhasa's two great Gelugpa monasteries. About 600 monks live and practice there now, down from the original population of 5000. A Tibetan told us that pilgrims visit this monastery with their children and ask for blessings. Childhood problems as simple as sleeplessness or as serious as a terminal illness can be cured by a blessing here. Rod and I asked for, and received, a blessing for our journey to Mt Kailash from the Lama here.

About 40km East of Lhasa is the Ganden Monastery. We visited here, and received a blessing for Mt Kailash also, before we left Lhasa. Ganden was the first Gelugpa monastery, and is still the heart and soul of this sect. We walked the kora around the monastery and walked to the stupa on top of the mountain also. At the summit, I let prayer papers blow out of my hands by the strong wind. Each of the papers flew up and fluttering down after a while except for the yellow one (symbolizing Earth). Amazingly this little paper flew up and fluttered, then was swept up high into the sky and out over the vast river valley. It was continued out and up until i could see it no longer. My prayer for Earth was sent to the sky.

Lhasa is a most sacred city. It is so strongly a mystical place of pilgrimage and prayer, and a place where old traditions are held onto against the harsh forces of change. The Chinese (and to be fair, the influence of tourism) have done much to turn Lhasa into another bustling, dirty, and loud Chinese city, but luckily, the strong faith and will of the Tibetan people continue to resist. But for how much longer?

[See more photos of Lhasa using our photos link at the top right of the page]

Mt Longhushan

2007-10-10T17:36:00.000-07:00

Longhushan: 10/10/2007
China

Before heading out to our final sacred Taoist mountain of China, we stayed a couple days in Xi'an to enjoy the food and see the famous Terra Cotta Warriors. This amazing archaeological site was discovered in 1974 by some farmers digging a well. Now uncovered and reconstructed, the site displays 8,099 larger than life figures of warriors and horses. And, this is under half of the total painted terra cotta figures. The rest are still under ground! Each figure is unique, shaped after a real soldier in the First Qin Emperor's army. They were all buried to guard the Mausoleum of the Emperor. The figures vary in height according to their rank; the tallest being the Generals. The place is huge!

From Xi'an, we flew to Nanchang City, in the Jiangxi province. This city is famous for it's role in consolidating the power of the Communist Party. It is mostly classic ugly Communist-highrise architecture, but the peaceful Gan River (Gan Jiang) runs gracefully through it's center, and all sorts of great antique artwork can be found in it's shops. [We were a public security risk]
From there we caught the train to Yingtan, and a taxi to the main tourist entrance to Longhushan, which is now a "National Geopark of China". The place looks like a tropical Meteora; great rounded boulders poking through the plane.
Longhushan means "Dragon and Tiger Mountain". It is said that a gust of wind moans over the empty valley when a tiger growls. In the middle of the East Han Dynasty, the first Tian Shi (Taoist priest ), Zhang Daoling张道陵(AD 34-156), started to distill elixirs here. According to the record, when the elixirs were made, a dragon and a tiger were seen winding above the oven. The mountain was named after the celestial animals.

This group of rocky spires are considered the cradle of formalized Taoism because Zhang Daoling created and practiced it here. [ Please read the intro to Taoist Mtns in China blog if you have not already ] The monks of Mount Longhushan led the Taoism schools in southern china, it became the centre of development of Chinese Taoism.
Now, it is a centre of Chinese Tourism. We passed through the obligatory trinket and souvenir shops to the park gate, where we paid our first entrance fee. From there we were ushered to the boat dock where we got our first view of the dramatic landscape. There were several men repairing longboats, and a desk where we paid our next fee for a boat ride up the river and to the various trailheads on our tourist map. We got boat tickets, and thought we would have a long boat to ourselves, but we were piled in with a Chinese tour group. Now, as mentioned in previous blogs, the Chinese have a different sense of appropriate volume. As we were polled up the quietly flowing river, in a small boat where normal voices could be heard easily, Rod and I almost pee'd our pants with what happened next. The tour guide stood up in the front of the boat, pulled out a megaphone, and began an extended natural history talk (in Chinese) at volume 11! It was too much!!
When the long boat dropped us off, we walked up stream and across a bridge to the beginning of a series of trails shown on our map. We stratigerized about the best walking route to see all the major shrines and temples, and started up an empty road. Soon we arrived back at the river... a dead end. Here was a military outpost and the gates to a military base. No, I guess we can't walk through the trails shown on the tourist map (I wonder if they think no one will do any walking, tourists just ride the boats, so they can offer trails that don't exist?). But the soldier we talked to was really nice, and offered us a ride back to the boat dock on his old Chinese copy of Ural motorcycle, which is a Russian copy of a WWII BMW. I rode in the sidecar!

We dutifully did not try to walk anywhere else, and got onto the next bamboo raft back down river. The bamboo raft dropped us off at a beach under the Cliff Tombs.
High up on the cliff sides, the many caves were filled with wooden coffins and offerings. These tombs were used in the "Spring and Autumn Period(770-476 BC) and the Warring States Period(475-221 BC)". As is typical of major contemporary religious sites, what became known as a Taoist sacred site had already been sacred for the native religions of the area for a long time.
From the tombs and fairae cliff (the fairae who could not be married), we walked up the Celestial City Track, paid another entrance fee, and up to the Temple on the mountain top. The Grand Supreme Purity Palace, built over the original site of Taoism creation, is considered the place where all gods received their official ranks. It was built in the East Han Dynasty. Just under this temple, on the sheer cliff sides, are several caves perched above a path carved in the rock. This is the path of realization and it passes the caves of enlightenment, where it is said that various incarnations attained enlightenment throughout Taoist history.
I could imagine monks sitting in meditation in these caves high above the river and rice paddies. In the amazing late afternoon light, a power was emanating from this pathway as we walked along it and back down to the valley floor. This is a hugely powerful spot, both in spirituality and historical importance. And once again, China has made it into a sight seeing spot for tourists, aggressively attempting to turn its religious significance into an oddity of the past. In fact, in the Chinese approved travel and tourist information, it is entitled "The best natural archaeological museum of China by Our Beautiful Motherland".

Hmm... what can you do? Dragon and Tiger Mountain, LongHuShan, the end of our tour of the most sacred Taoist mountains of China. We got into a taxi at the bottom and headed back to Yingtan.

Mt Huashan

2007-10-04T17:32:00.000-07:00

Huashan: 10/4-5/2007

China

[Check out the "Taoist Mtns of China Intro" blog-entry if you have not already]

Throughout Taoist history, pilgrims have come to pay their respect to Huashan, or 'Flower Mountain'. Chinese Emperors Tang Gaozhu and Tang Taizhong (Tang Dynasty) made famous journeys here. Taoists including Zhong Liquan, Lu Yan, Liu Chao, Wang Chuyi, Hao Datong, Tan Chuduan all once lived here. And, Chen Tuan, one of the founders of Taoism, spent 40 years on the mountain writing Taoist philosophy and reflections. The mountain is scattered with Temples and shrines, but at nothing near the density of precommunist time. Here and there you can spot a hermitage cave where a sage would sit and meditate, drink only spring water and eat gathered herbs, and live to be 500 years old (so they say). These caves are in the most difficult to reach places. Steps (little niches) carved into the vertical cliff faces climb up 10 to 30 meters, and there is a cave opening, or a long chain dangling from a little door high on a precipice. Interestingly, the princess Jinxian, the daughter of emperor Rui Zhong (Tang Dynasty), once came to Mount Hua to pursue Tao. I guess she lived in a cave, because afterward, emperor Tang Xuanzhong ordered the construction of Woman-Immortal Temple and Silver Cloud Monastery, making a specific space for women to study on the mountain.

Our pilgrimage to the sacred flower mountain began with a flight to Xi'an city, Shaanxi Province. Xi'an, once named Chang'an, is the fabled beginning and end of the Silk Road. In those days, the city was thriving with emperors, courtesans, poets, monks, merchants and soldiers; a place where many of the world's great religions coexisted and Chinese culture reached an apogee of creativity and sophistication. Today, inside the ancient city walls, it is a stimulating mix of rich historical buildings, the bright neon lights of modern china , antique shops, art studios (called "factories"), and too many people. Our favorite section of the city is the Muslim quarter, where remnants of the Silk Road past are clustered inside street vendors and honking motor carts. The best food in the city can be found here, by far!

Unfortunately for us, we are here, and going to Huashan during the national holiday week. Many students and families are on vacation this week, and it seems like they are planning to do the same things we are. Everywhere we go, every restaurant, street, taxi stand, ticket office, coffee shop, everywhere is CROWDED with people.

We catch a train to Huayin City, 120 kilometers (about 75 miles) east from Xi'an City. We have to bump and push to get seats, but we do, and are soon bumping along the countryside. "E-Ex-Excuse Me" says a vary nervous and embarrassed young man. "We are 1st year students in university." OK, that's nice... I'm thinking. "Will you come and talk to us?" A group of 3 women giggle and make a spot for me. I spent most the ride talking to these students who were just so excited to meet a real live foreigner! Everyone took pictures.

The next day we began our assent with a visit to the Yuquan Yuan (Jade Fountain) Temple at the base of the climb. In the morning grey, groups of men and women doing Tai Chi Chuan on its plaza. The temple's gardens have the architectural style of the classical gardens in south China; with a pond in the center and several pavilions around it. Beside the 'Huixin Rock' are the precipitous 370 rock steps called 'Qianchi Zhuang'. These are considered to be the primary "breath-taking path" of Mt. Huashan. It is called this because when walking up it, the narrow sliver of sky above the high walls makes you feel like you are at the bottom of a well.

Huashan is really a group of 5 rocky peaks high among the knife-blade ridges of the Qinling Mountains. Standing in a circle around the central granite dome, Huashan East, South, West, and North Peaks resemble a colossal lotus flower in full blossom. Thus it's name, Flower Mountain.

Rod and I begin the sweaty crowded climb, passing the various souvenir and food stands. We buy red prayer sashes, and carry them with us to tie at the summits. The path is stairs, but toward the end, the stairs get steeper and there are chains to hold onto as you climb. The famous "ear touching wall", is a very narrow series of steep steps with a big chain. It's famed danger comes from (in my opinion) all the other climbers pushing their way up behind you and stumbling above you. When we finally reached the North Peak summit (1615m), Rod and I have had it with all the people and their lack of a sense of personal space. This peak is named "Clouds Stand" peak. The summit is a relatively flat peninsula of rock surrounded by cliffs on three sides, so it is classically thought of as a platform in the clouds (one you can stand on). We try to enjoy the summit, Rod ties a prayer on a tree there, and we decide to call it a day. We will come back tomorrow, hope there are less people, and summit the other peaks. We stand in an agonizingly disorganized 45 min long line to take the cable car down. Yes, here too is a cable car! Everyone in the line cutting and pushing; Rod getting belligerent and swearing at people; basically Hot Sweaty Stinky Loud Chaos (for 45 min!). The good old china HSSLC.

The next morning, Rod and I re-entered the HSSLC and waited in the ENORMOUS line to get the cable car up. It was awful. Then at the top, Rod just could no longer deal. He opted to retreat and headed back to the hotel. I bravely pushed on. I somehow got into turbo mode and charged my way through the crowds and up the Blue Dragon Range ridge. I was ruthless, climbing at about 1000 m/hr, passing and cutting people off... i don't feel good about it, it just happened. All the people - It was too much.

And, luckily for me, once I passed Hongsheng Terrace and reached Jinsuo Pass the crowds were mostly behind me. I took the trail to the West Peak and was rewarded with very few other people and a light breeze! The trail climbed up to the first overlook... a breath taking 2000+ foot vertical drop to pine forest below. Then up the narrow ridge to the summit itself (2038m). On West Peak, or Lianhua Peak, is the Taois Cuiyun Palace. The rock before the temple looks like a lotus flower, hence the peak is named Lotus Flower Peak. There are another seven rocks beside Cuiyun Palace, and a big crack in one. This is said to be the place where Chenxiang, a filial young man, once ripped open the mountain to save his mother (The Heavenly Goddess San Sheng Mu).

I tied a prayer sash on the summit, and continued along the cliffside path to the Luoyan Peak, or South Peak (2160m). Before reaching the top, i saw a small path running along the side of the cliff with a chain. It looked like no one goes there. I looked and the path continued for about 2 meters, then disappeared, reappearing about a meter further along, and ending in small ledge (about 1 m square). Oooooo... it would be really cool to sit on that ledge... The part of the path that disappeared was short, and had small foot holes carved in the rock face and there was the big chain to hold onto. I went carefully along it and onto the nifty little ledge. I tied my prayer sash on the ledge, and then noticed the really cool thing... from the ledge, there was a vertical chain, with footholds carved in the rock along it, that lead up (about 10 m) to a hermit cave. I wanted to go up there so badly, but yes, a fall would be the end of me (1500 ft drop), and with no harness and no one knowing where i am i guess i shouldn't try... but it was so hard!!

On the top of South Peak is a water pond with calligraphy inscriptions. To reach this summit and pond is regarded as reaching the peak of perfection. Legend has it that wild geese returning from the south often land here, giving the name 'Landing Wild Geese Peak', or 'Dropping Goose Peak'. The Taoist temple on South Peak is called Baidi Temple or Jintian Palace and is considered the host temple of Deity Shaohao.

I stopped for some lunch at the food stand in the temple (is there nothing sacred?) and had 'beef noodle'. The students I met in the train told me that "'Beef noodle' is Chinese favorite snack. They're delicious!". 'Beef noodle' is instant ramen noodles in a cardboard bowl with beef broth and plenty of MSG. Hmm... Yum!

After my delicious lunch, i walked down South Peak and up to the top of East Peak (Chaoyand Peak). The views from here are spectacular! And, I can see the tops of the row of heads walking on Blue Dragon Range ridge below. I tie my prayer, hang out on this summit (2100m) a while, and enjoy the afternoon sunlight through the twisted pine trees. Quartz dikes on the cliff face look shaped into the form of a giant palm print, reminding me of the "Facing Sun" Peak's story. A long time ago, on March 3rd of the Lunar Calendar, a torrential flood erupted, destroying the villages within the Huashan area. This disaster was caused by the Queen Mother of the West, who held her 'Flat Peach Carnival' celebration that year. She carelessly spilled a little jade wine down from paradise, causing a serious flood below. This news was quickly reported by Deity Shaohao to the Jade Emperor in Celestial Paradise. He gave a prompt order to Deity Juling to go down to tame the flood. When Deity Juling, full of vigor and vitality, descended from the clouds, he arrived at the precipitous cliff of East Peak. At the moment that he laid his left hand on one side (the dikes) and his right leg on the other, he ripped the mountain into two halves and immediately the flood rushed out and away.

I stop daydreaming and begin my way down. The route down had the steepest stairs/ladder with chain I ever walked on, and it was made more interesting because the crowds were closing in. I re-entered turbo mode and bee-lined down the mountain toward the cable car. My rapid decent was surprisingly interrupted by my name being called! Huh?! Across from me are a couple Rod and I met 2.5 weeks ago while climbing Taishan! These two are doing a bike trip across china and decided on a whim to walk up Huashan... on the same day, same time... small world for sure.

I blitz down to North Peak and connivingly cut 3/4 of the cable car line. OK, I'm learning! I make it back to the Hotel to meet Rod with time to spare.

Mt Taishan

2007-09-25T20:47:00.000-07:00

Taishan: 9/25-26/2007
China

[ Please read the intro to Taoist Mtns in China if you have not already ]

From the city of Nanjing, we traveled by air (very cheap in China, and much easier and cleaner than the train) to Jinan, the capital of Shandong Province. From there we taxied to Tai'an where we stayed in the peaceful and clean Yuzuo Hotel (probably the best hotel we stayed in in China), set inside the beautiful grounds of the Dai Temple.
The morning of our ascent of Taishan, we went to breakfast at the hotel's buffet, but we limited ourselves to steamed buns and hot milk because other choices included insect cocoons in chili sauce, and pan fried scorpions... yikes! Interestingly, in China we have become very lethargic (I wonder if the MSG loaded food is the cause?), and we got a late start. It is too bad, because it is popular to be on the summit for sunrise. In ancient Chinese tradition, it was believed that the sun rose from Taishan.

When the taxi dropped us off at the trailhead (the First Gate of Heaven), we walked with eyes popping at all the souvenir and prayer stands, up to the Guandi Temple (Guandi is the Taoist god of war). It is crowded and smoky, but also more mystical than anything we have seen in China so far. As we continue up the canyon, the rock walls and boulders are covered with calligraphic art dating from who knows how far back; all sorts of prayers and poems. It is like an outdoor Chinese calligraphy museum.
The mountain Taishan is deeply rooted in China's most ancient creation myth, the story of Pan Gu. In the beginning, all was chaos. Heaven and earth were swirling together. Pan Gu was born and started to separate the ground and the sky. Each day he grew taller; thus the sky grew higher and the earth grew thicker. After 18,000 years, the earth and sky were fully separated and Pan Gu died of exhaustion. His eyes became the sun and moon, his blood became the rivers, his sweat the rain. His head and limbs became five sacred peaks... Taishan is his head.
His head is 7.5 km of endless stone stairs. It is said that 6660 steps lead up to the Midway Gate to Heaven, but I didn't count. The climb is hot and uncomfortably sweaty. And, as we soon began to expect in China, it was stinky and very crowded with people. People who were extremely loud (you really wouldn't believe it), and often seen/heard hacking phlegm and spitting it anywhere.

Only 5 of China's emperors ever climbed Tai Shan, although Emperor Qianlong of the Qing dynasty scaled it 11 times. (note- climbing it for an emperor means riding in a sedan chair up and having resting houses built for you as you go. ) Legend has it that when Confucius was on the summit he uttered the dictum "The world is small." And when Chairman Mao lumbered up, he declared "The east is Red."

Along the way we visited and past many temples and shrines. Many of these were dedicated to the goddess Bixia, the Princess of the Azure Clouds. She is a powerful cult figure for the rural women of Shandong and beyond. We saw many little packs of grandmothers (it is said that if you climb Taishan, you will live to be 100) stumping their way up, stopping to pray at the shrines, and eagerly heading to the cluster of temples at the summit where they burn money and incense, praying for their progeny.

To reach the summit area, Rod and I walked hand in hand through the Archway to Immortality. We took the lock we carried up and put in onto the chain of locks at the temple there. By this time a thick mist had begun to gather. We passed through the South Gate to Heaven on our way to visit the Azure Clouds Temple, then followed an uncrowded, longer path up to the Jade Emperor Temple (1545m). Having a little isolation allowed our imaginations to peer through the mist and see the true nature of this ancient sacred summit.

The Jade Emperor Temple is the place where Imperial sacrifices to heaven and earth were offered (don't know what was sacrificed... animals probably... and people?). Along the stone pathway to it, the steep cliffs dropped off into the mist below us, the deciduous trees were beginning to show orange and red, and the smell of wild flowering marijuana filled our noses. After visiting the temple, we sat on the rocks outside and made our offering to Bixia. After some rest and people watching, we walked back down to the Archway to Immortality. There we got a yummy snack of thin flat bread, spread with plum sauce, and wrapped around a green onion, before heading to the cable car (!) to ride down through the clouds.

Mt Maoshan

2007-09-23T20:47:00.000-07:00

Mao Shan: 9/23/2007 (Autumn Equinox)
China

[ Please read the intro to Taoist Mtns in China if you have not already ]

After a few days in Shanghai, we caught a train to the city of Nanjing, capital of the Jiangsu Province. We were startled by the overall size of every city in China, even the little towns are big cities with skyscrapers and pollution. We got a shabby room in a big hotel on a big street in the big city. After a yummy dinner on a crowded pedestrian-only street, lined with restaurants and snack stands, we found a taxi to take us to Maoshan the next morning.

The taxi driver was absolutely on time, and very friendly, despite that he did not speak a word of English, and we knew only one word in Chinese (hello). We drove East out of town through some agricultural land to the village at the base of Maoshan. We stopped at an odd communist memorial to some violent man on a horse. As we climbed up, the police/military men who sold us the tickets to see the memorial set off a racket of fireworks at the bottom. After this strange and somewhat disturbing visit, the taxi driver took us on to the real Maoshan starting point, a temple on the opposite side of the mountain.
Maoshan is the "first land of blessing", and the "eighth world of caves" for Taoism. It has been a Taoist center since the beginning of formal Taoism during the end of the Han Dynasty (206 BC-AD 220). The mountain used to be covered with temples, hermitage sites, and shrines, but much was destroyed and some has since been rebuilt. Giuliano Bertueciolo, an Italian Academic who studied Taoism, visited Maoshan in 1974 studying its critical role in the history of Taoism. He published an article "the Memory of Mt. Maoshan" in the Journal of Oriental Studies describing the prosperity and history of the Temples on Maoshan. In 1985, he returned to Maoshan and published another article depicting the decline of Maoshan and Taoism during China's Cultural Revolution.

The Temple at the bottom of the pilgrimage path has been newly rebuilt (by the Cable Car Company!), and felt rather plastic, even Disneyland-ish. Like each of the sacred mountains we visited in China, it was almost more oriented toward the Chinese tourist, rather than to anyone coming for religious or spiritual purpose. We visited the temple, then started up the mountain on foot (we did not take the cable car).

The trail through the dense underbrush was hot, humid, and devoid of other hikers. We were just getting uncomfortably sweaty when the trail forked. On the left was the trail down to the caves! Despite the purpose of going up, we had to go down... it got spooky. We passed a few shrines, and then a big, new, statue of an Ox coming out of a cave stopped us. Whatever had been the 8th world of caves was now more like the "It's a small world after all" ride. We headed back up to the main trail.

Soon, we noticed lines of embedded pebbles in the cement pathway. Ah, yes, these are the various line combinations that make up the I Ching or "Book of Changes", the ancient Chinese oracle. We followed the path of the I Ching until it brought us to another Temple. This one was the most religiously genuine place on the mountain. A monk greeted us at the door, and led us in to where we bowed as he struck a musical bowl. Then he walked us through the building to some beautiful gardens and pond where the trail to the summit continued.

Just up from the temple, is a parking lot where everyone else drives to to begin the walk. We walked through and up a long set of stairs to another temple, stopping to examine a set of sculptures; the animals of the Chinese zodiac. At this temple, a group of Taoist monks were playing traditional music and singing.
After this, the mountain trail was mostly stone stairs. It was interrupted by a newly built, and horrible, wax museum of various forms of torture and demons. We practically ran through it to get to the trail again. The stone steps became wooden planks on wobbly chains until we arrived at a small pagoda. Here two people were playing cards and smoking cigarettes and selling small heart shaped locks for couples or family to lock onto the chains. We bought one, engraved "R+S", and locked it on.
At the summit was another temple, but we did not go into it. We sat in another small pagoda and watched other tourists and people at the souvenir stands through the swirling mountaintop mist.

During this day, our first sacred mountain climb in China, I only caught glimpses of the real history and power of this place. I want to give this "first land of blessing" a blessing. I hope that the power of this historical sacred site can be recovered from the anti-religious drape of Communist China. Blessings to Maoshan.

Taoist Mtns of China - Intro

2007-09-20T18:18:00.000-07:00

Sacred Taoist Mountains: 9/19/2007 - 10/13/2007

China

As a focus for sacred mountains in China (there are many of them), we put our efforts into the Taoist mountains. Taoism (Tao, or "the way") is one of the three historical religious systems of China; Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism. It originated in China from the philosophical system of Lao-tse老子(604?-531 BC). Who's written work, the Da De Jing (the Way of Power; written often as Tao De Ching) is its main doctrine. It has 81 chapters dealing with many topics, like "Nature", "Hypocrisy", "Indulgence", and "Harmony" for example. An excerpt from the chapter "Experience" follows:

"Experience is a riverbed,
Its source hidden, forever flowing:
Its entrance, the root of the world,
The Way moves within it:
Draw upon it; it will not run dry."

And from the chapter "Beneath Abstraction":

"The mother of nature.
It has no name, but I call it "the Way";
It has no limit, but I call it "limitless".

Being limitless, it flows away forever;
Flowing away forever, it returns to my self:

The Way is limitless,
So nature is limitless,
So the world is limitless,
And so I am limitless."

The ideas in the Da De Jing came into a formal religious form around the 2nd century AD, through the founding work of Zhang Daoling张道陵(AD 34-156). By the 14th century AD, Taoism had been divided into many sects. It developed into two main philosophies: Quanzhen Tao, emphasizing self-cultivation to attain immortality or enlightenment, and Zhengyi Tao, which involves beliefs in charms and spells.

After some research, we concluded that the mountains China officially claims as "The Five Taoist Mountains of China" are not the ones most worthy of focus. Writing in Pilgrims and Sacred Sites in China, John Lagerwey comments: "A note on what is meant by "Taoist mountain" is perhaps in order here. It is traditional to regard the Five Peaks (wu-yueh) as Taoist, in contrast with the "four most famous (Buddhist) mountains" (ssu-ta ming shan). While both history and cosmology can be called on to justify this identification of the Five Peaks with Taoism, these mountains already constituted a distinct group in the Former Han dynasty before Taoism had taken on an organized ecclesiastical form, and it is only from the late sixth century on that Taoists made a concerted effort to claim these mountains as theirs. The Taoists were never entirely successful in pressing this claim, and of the five only Hua Shan and T'ai Shan, albeit in a very different manner, play a significant and ongoing role in Taoist religious history. Perhaps even more to the point, even these two mountains are nowhere near as important to Taoist history as are such mountains as Mao Shan and LungHu Shan, centers, respectively, of Shang-ch'ing and Cheng-i Taoism. Together with Ko-tsao Shan (in Kiangsi), the ordination center of Ling-pao Taoism, these mountains constituted the "tripod" on which officially recognized forms of Taoism rested from the early twelfth century on."

So, in our exploration of Taoist sacred mountains in china, we will visit and climb four (it is interesting, the Chinese phrase for pilgrimage - ch' ao-shan chin-hsiang - means 'paying one's respect to a mountain'): Mao Shan, T'ai Shan, Hua Shan, and LungHu Shan.

Blogging in China

2007-09-19T15:14:00.000-07:00

My apologies folks...
We are in China until Nov 4th, and somehow, viewing this blog and accessing the photos are blocked to me. I am publishing the text still (at least i think it's working), but the photos will have to wait. Please come back to see!

Mt Dewa Sanzen

2007-09-12T20:45:00.000-07:00

Dewa Sanzen: 9/12-13/2007

Mt Haguro, Mt Gassan, Mt Yodono

Japan

Japan has a rich history of mountain worship, one intertwined with later spiritual ideas that came into the area. Many ideas of Shinto, the native beliefs of Japan, were mixed with Buddhism when it arrived. A major event in this, are the Ideas of Prince Hachico. He believed that Buddha had come to Japan in the forms of Shinto Deities. And many of these deities were/are mountains. The practice of Shugendo Buddhism developed, let by the Yamabushi. Yamabushi literally means, "one who lies in the mountains". These devoted mountain ascetics practice severe austerities in search of personal transformation and supernatural power.

In 7th century, the imperial Prince Hachiko renounced his title and position, took the name Kokai, and became a wandering mountain hermit. While on a beach, he saw an enormous black bird with three legs who led him first to Mt Haguro, and then to the other peaks of the Dewa Sanzen. Kokai stayed the rest of his life upon Haguro-san, where his imperial grave is maintained to this day. Haguro-san is the seat of one of the two main Shugendo orders. On the summit are a massive and beautiful temple, a great bell, and a sematary, among other things, and along the path up are many shrines and standing stones.

The three sacred mountains that make up the Dewa Sanzan, in the Yamagata prefecture of northern Honshu, are Haguro San (419 m), Gassan (1980m), and Yudono san (1504 m).

The traditional foot path to the summit of Haguro san passes through forest of ancient cedars and cryptomerias and ascending 2446 stone steps. On the top is the shrine of Gassai-den which houses the deities of the tree mountains: Tsukiyomi-no-Mikoto, Oyamatsumi-no-Mikoto, and Ideha-no-Mikoto. The deity of Yudono lives, not in a building, but in a hot water fall. Pilgrims take off their shoes and bathe in the sacred water.

It is said that white clad pilgrims with wooden staffs, sandals, and straw hats can be seen climbing these mountains. And, they say you can occasionally come across a Yamabushi, with conch shell, check jacket, and white pantaloons, sitting under icy waterfall or doing other exercises intended to train both body and spirit, but we didn't see any of this. We did see some old ladies carrying wooden staffs with flags on the top, but that is as far as it went.
From the town of Tsuruoka, in the Yamagata-Ken prefecture, we caught a morning bus to the base of Haguro-san. We had a cup of tea, then passed through the first Torii and into the peaceful forest staircase. Beautiful old Cedar trees lined the granite steps up the slope. We passed a waterfall, and stopped to pour the cold water over our heads, before continuing up. Soon we came to the Go-Jyu-No-To, a wooden five-storied pagoda built in 931 to 937 AD. Starting to get used to the idea of climbing stairs (so many more to go!), we kept moving through the forest. We (well, I, really) couldn't help but take a short detour to visit the Minami-Dani (southern valley), the site of a temple built in 1662. Here, the famous haiku poet, Matsuo Basho, stayed while climbing Haguro-san and wrote several haiku. About Minami-Dani, he wrote:
So holy a place
The snow itself is scented
At southern valley

Before reaching the summit (414m), we stopped for green tea, and some weird sweet rice goop, at a small tea house on the trail. At the summit, we were awed by the peaceful elegance of the thatched roofed Sanjin Gosaiden. This shrine joins together the three Dewa Sanzen dieties. It is a magnificent structure; the 2.1m thick thatched roof supported by a wooden structure is one of a kind. Also on the summit is a monastery, the Kotakuji Temple, a huge bell (from 1275), various other structures, and a very interesting graveyard. We explored the summit area before walking down a bit to our lodging, the Saikan. This building used to be a temple called Kozoin, where priests held divine service. Now it is used to provide pilgrims to Dewa Sanzan with accommodation and meals. We were shown our room, a simple grass mat floor room with a low table for tea, and two futon mats on the floor. Our meals there were great, we sat on the floor and were served traditional Japanese food on low tables by the monks who lived there.

The next morning, after an early morning walk and a great breakfast, we caught a taxi to the trail head of Gas-san. Gas-san is the highest peak of the Dewa Sanzen, 1984m. It is worshiped as a mountain where our ancestors sleep, and a mountain of fertility that brings rich waters. This hike is not stairs, it is a beautiful trail through brush, scattered with peaceful ponds. At the summit is the Gas-san Jinja shrine. To enter the shrine we had to be purified. We had to bow our heads before the Priest for a blessing, then rub our shoulders, arms, body, legs and feet with sacred paper. Then we dropped the paper in a fountain. We visited the shrine in a foggy mist, then continued down the other side of the mountain toward Yudono-san.

We reached the summit of Yudono-san (1504), and continued down the trail until it became a slippery stream bed. Here a series of ladders and chains helped us descend the final stretch to the Yudono-san Jinja. Again here, i was blessed and purified with sacred paper, then instructed to take my shoes off and follow the priest through the shrine. In front of me was a huge orange rock with a hot (and i mean HOT) spring bubbling from pools at it's top. The whole rock was continuously lapped by water from the spring. I am guessing that the rock was formed from precipitates as the hot mineral water bubbled up and over. The rock itself is said to be an embodied deity. The monk told me to walk, clockwise, up the side of the rock, over it's top and back down. The hot water burned my feet as i walked the circle and tried not to slip. At the bottom, the monk rinsed my feet with more of the water, then let me out. Yudono-san Jinja has the strictest rituals of the three mountains.

When I came out of the shrine, Rod was getting frantic... we were late for the last bus back to Tsuruoka. We hiked the last part of the trail to where the parking lot is, and found that yes, we did miss the last bus. What are we going to do?

Presently, the monks from the shrine appear, they have closed up the shrine gate, and are going to drive home. We were so thankful when one of the monks offered us a ride back to the city. We piled into the back of his tiny blue Rav4, and enjoyed talking about mountain biking and listening to Japanese hip-hop the whole ride back. -------
That night we stopped in a sushi bar for dinner. Everyone in the bar was so excited to meet some foreigners and practice their English, that pretty soon the whole place was buying sake for each other and toasting the Dewa Sanzen. When we left, we had to shake hands with each person in the restaurant, including the couple who owns it.

Mt Fuji

2007-09-09T20:44:00.000-07:00

Mt Fuji: 9/8-9/2007
Japan

Before leaving the states for this expedition, I was talking with my Akido sensei, Yoshi (he is from Japan) about going to Japan. I told him I planned to climb Mt Fuji. He looked at me in astonishment and reprimand... "Why? Fuji-san is a most sacred mountain. The most sacred place. How could you put your feet on it?"

"Hmm... Shelly," I thought, "you better have a good answer to this question before you go to that mountain." When I thought about it more, I realized that most people, when talking about climbing a mountain, come from the point of view of "conquering the mountain", or "overcoming the obstacle", or other testosterone driven points of view. I certainly don't think of climbing a mountain in that way. It is much more like a dance or training, I get to go to the summit if the mountain lets me, if the mountain thinks that my heart and intention is true, it will permit me to reach its summit. And if I am lucky, it may give me teachings, the lessons I need to learn, along the way. One thing I know for certain is that I am absolutely nothing when related to the power of a mountain. Especially one as powerful as Fuji-san. It is like training with Yoshi sensei, he may permit me to throw or pin him, to teach me the lesson. Yet we both know that I am only a novice, and nothing compared to him. Before climbing any peak, I bow to the mountain, introducing myself, that I am coming in true humility, that I am asking the mountain for teachings, and thanking the mountain for the opportunity to practice with it. If I come with humble intention, I can only put my feet on Fuji-san if it permits me to do so. And if it does, I am thankful for the teaching.

We arrived in Tokyo after a 20 hour layover in Bangkok. We got ourselves organized, and went to the bus station the next day to get tickets to Fuji Go-ko, on the north side of Mt Fuji. At the station, they informed us that the bus was canceled due to an incoming Typhoon. Stuck in a Tokyo Typhoon! We treated ourselves to a night in the Hyatt hotel and watched the trees blow and tear, the water gust in sheets across the streets below, from a room in the 27th floor. It was very cool!

The next day we were able to get the bus, and spent the night in Kawaguchi-ko. We headed to the town of Fuji-Yoshida in the morning and began our traditional assent of the mountain by first walking under the Torii (gate arch) in the middle of town that designates the entrance to the spiritual world from the physical world. Then we walked through another Torii and along the towering cryptomeria trees, peppered with old stone lanterns, to the Sengen-jinja shrine. It is traditional to climb Fuji-san from the bottom, at the Sengen-jinja shrine, and up the Yoshidaguchi trail. We paid homage to the gods at the shrine, then began the 19 km assent. Yoshidaguchi trail is the oldest path up the mountain. We passed through lush forests that we had almost entirely to ourselves (most people take the bus to the Kawaguchi-ko 5th station, and start there) . We passed Nakanochaya, an ancient site marked by carved stones left by previous climbers/pilgrims. We walked through the Torii, with monkeys on either side, that marks the formal entrance to the sacred area of the mountain. Then past the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd stations to the Nyonin Tenjo (women's holy ground) which until 1832 was as far up as women were allowed to go. On we went until we arrived at the 5th station hut on the Yoshidaguchi trail (2305 m). We had reserved space in the hut, so when we arrived, we were warmly greeted, shown our bed space, then washed up before being served dinner.
Before bed we admired some cool photos on the walls of Japanese mountaineers climbing Fuji-san in the winter. The mountain's 35-40 degree constant angle would make a fine 5000 vertical foot ski decent from the summit. One day we should come back with skis!

The next morning, at 3:30 am, we scarfed down some rice balls they had left us for breakfast (one with salmon inside!), drank a cup of green tea, and started up the mountain trail. The trail was very quiet until we reached the intersection with the trail coming from the Kawaguchi-ko 5th station. And it was still relatively uncrowded as we passed the 6th, and maybe 7th, stations. We got a bit confused as to which of the seemingly continuous string of buildings, cafes, and hotels, was officially which station.

We paused to watch a golden sunrise over the low clouds, hills, and lakes East Fuji-san. Later, as our trail started to fill with other climbers, we noticed the decent trail absolutely crowed with climbers who were at the summit for sunrise. Around the same time, a thick fog began to accumulate around the summit. When we walked under a small Torii, and up to a plateau with cafes selling hot tea, we thought we were at station 8. We took a rest, put on our cold weather gear (we were inside a cold blowing cloud by this time), and asked a group of climbers where the trail continuing to the summit was. They said "this IS the summit!" (oops- we didn't even know that we made it to the top :}) . It took 3.5 hours to climb the 1500 m from 5th station.

We walked over to the Torii at the 9th station (that is the summit station), and took the obligatory summit photos. We then continued on, to circumnavigate the summit cone ridge clockwise. We stopped at the weather station, which is the true highest point (3776m/12,388ft), and continued to a nice rounded open area were we paused to rest and reflect.

This summit has seen many wise and clear people. According to early Shugendo myths, the mountain was first climbed by the wizard/sage En No Gyoja around 700 AD. And from the 15th century onward it became a popular pilgrimage destination. They say that this crater is the home of the fire goddess, the dwelling of the Shinto goddess of flowing trees, and the abode of Dainichi Nyorai (the Buddha of all-illuminating wisdom).

As we sat there, magically, the clouds suddenly opened up. We basked thankfully in some warm rays before completing the circumnavigation and heading down. The decent route was hellish; just a long set of steep gravel switchback, switchback, switchback, switchbacks. Our knees were aching by the time we made it back to the 5th station hut where we had left our sleeping bags and toothbrushes. We had a snack there, and asked the hut owner, "how far is the bus down to Fuji-Yoshida?". And he said, "20 meters". Since our bus, the last one, left at 3:30, we thought we would leave the hut around 3:15, with plenty of time to spare. We settled down on the grass mat floor to watch a marathon race on TV. The owner kept reminding us what time the bus left, getting more nervous each time. We kept looking at each other thinking, "what's the big deal? We have plenty of time." When finally at 3:15, he grabs our bags and motions us to follow him to his jeep. We get in, not quite sure why we have to drive the 20 meters to the bus pick up, but we kept driving and driving. Soon, we arrived at the bus with only a couple minutes to spare. It turns out that he was telling us 20 minutes, not 20 meters! Ooops.

That night we went to a small local Izakaya (the Japanese equivalent of a Pub) for dinner. The couple who owned and ran it were so excited to have some foreigners there, and we were so incapable of telling them in Japaneese what we wanted to eat, that they called their daughter and her husband (who speaks English) to come and join us for dinner. We ate the specialties of the house and drank plenty of sake to the great Fuji-san.

Mt Belukha

2007-08-23T17:28:00.000-07:00

Mt Belukha (Uch Sumer): 8/19-27/2007
Kazakhstan

A snowy pinnacle pointing into the sky, Mt Belukha is Siberia's and the Altai Mountains' highest peak. More importantly, it is, and has been for millennium, a focus of Buddhist and Burkhanist spirituality.

Traditionally called Uch Sumer, meaning 3 peaks, it goes by many names among different Altaian and Kazakh tribes. Archaeologist and some scholars of Buddhist history and philosophy believe that Belukha may be Sumeru, the Central Asian mountain in Buddhist belief that is the center of Shambala (Shangri-la )... where only the spiritually advanced may enter. Belukha is also the headwaters of the sacred Katun River. There are shrines, burial sites, petroglyphs, and standing stones scattered all around the mountain.

The Altai mountains are home to the semi nomadic Altai people, and to a renowned diversity of flora and fauna. The endangered Snow Leopard and Argali Mountain Sheep populations have retreated into the safety of these mountains. The Altai people, or Altaians, are closely related to Mongolians and are considered the original Turkic people. They continue to practice Shamanism, Buddhism, and Burkhanism (or Ak Jang, the “white faith”). Burkhanists revere totem animals (argali, wolf, leopard) and totem flowers. They use throat singing at gatherings and in in fire ceremonies.
Shambala, as legend has it, is a mystical kingdom hidden somewhere beyond the snowy peaks of the Himalaya. The physical place is said to be in Central Asia, north west of Tibet; a valley in southern Siberia. The name means “place of peace/tranquility/happiness”. It is a “pure land” where all citizens are enlightened. The King of Shambala requested that the Kalachakra tantra be written and taught to other peoples and the Shakyamuni Buddha did this. They say the Kalachakra tantra is still at Shambala; it is a 5 chapter writing that teaches philosophy, practice, and path to attain buddhahood. The name Kalachakra can mean “time-wheel” or “time-cycles”. It is integral to the Tibetan Buddhist tradition. Shambala is mentioned in texts that predate Tibetan Buddhism in Western Tibet.

As with many ideas in the Kalachakra Tantra, Shambhala is said to have “outer”, “inner”, and “alternate” meaning. The Outer meaning is a physical place, where only people with appropriate Karma can reach. Inner meaning is a pure land that represents itself in your own body and mind. And alternative is a pure land represented in the practice of meditation.

John, Ahat, and Aslan had the 4-Runner ready to load at 7am in front of the hotel in Ust-Kamenogorsk. We drove 10 hours to the farthest eastern and northern corner of Kazakhstan. After camping by a lake outside of Rhamani, we started toward Belukha on horse back. We were supposed to leave at 9 am, and go all the way to the “low camp” cabin. It took a bewildering amount of time to sort out the horses (and payment for the horses), so we did not leave until 2 pm. Four people with all our climbing gear, on four horses. Needless to say, we stopped for the night at a half-way camp... next to the yurt where the horse man lives (hmm...).

The next day we sorely clambered back onto our horses and continued to low camp. The flowers and plants in this area are amazing! Such diversity, and so abundant. Interestingly, wild cannabis (yup, wild flowering marijuana) was growing everywhere. The horses LOVED to eat it. My horse, Sultan, really loved it. During the ride, I am wondering if after 8.5 hours on horse back, I will even be able to walk, let alone climb this difficult mountain.

As we climbed up the final steep section into the high valley under the mountain, a raging waterfall acted like a gate into a wholly different feeling place. Above the falls, it felt more magical, strong energy, there was definitely a sense of power emanating from the place. And just there at the top of the falls was the strangest gnarled amazingly old tree, unlike any other tree... the gate keeper. We clomped along past the tree to the low camp cabin.
After stoking the wood stove, setting up our beds, and putting out our wet stuff to dry (did i mention it has been raining for two days), I walked back to the old tree. During meditation at the base of the tree, i was amazed to experience the feeling of flow through my solar plexus area with each breath. Energy coming from the tree, through my solar plexus, and outward in a giant cone shape, up the valley toward the mountain, but not reaching it. It felt really good. I have never experienced anything like this before. It was only after getting back to the city that i had the chance to look into this solar plexus thing... i was pretty sure this is one of the chakras on the body, but that is the extent of it. As far as i can find, the solar plexus chakra, or Manipura/Nabhi, is the place of transition from simple or base to complex emotion, energy, and assimilation. It is the place of developing a sense of self through entering spiritual adulthood, power, self esteem, and vitality. It is associated with the fire element, the color yellow, and the lotus flower with 10 petals. It's primary functions are will, determination, assertion, personal power, laughter, joy, anger, and sight. By projecting power through my solar plexus, toward the mountain, it was almost like the tree was gently examining my spiritual adulthood to see if i was developed enough to enter Shambala. Since my cone did not reach the top of the valley, or the mountain, my guess is no, i was not found to be developed enough and could not enter the pure land. But it was not a negative rejection, it felt like a gift.

The next day, we had a brief moment of blue sky, and could finally see the top of the elusive mountain. Beautiful white pyramids. We set out up the valley, walking along a ridge covered with delicious blueberries, then over the endless rocky moraines onto the endless talus covered glacier. After forever, we got to the top of the glacier, the base of the proposed climbing route.

I say proposed climbing route because the route the 'guide' wanted to climb was almost suicide... a serac gnarled glacier with ice fall certain. At the top of the 12 pitch long, narrow gully of climbable terrain, sat a huge steep-sided bowl of snow, loaded and ready to release into it's only outlet, the route. All of this on top of the actual climbing. Most of the route was fine and had good ice. The problem was two gaping crevasses that extended horizontally across the whole glacier. The 'guide' intended to cross them by jumping (up hill) over them... yeah right.
I proposed another route, climbing up a less steep couloir on the other side of a small peak. Turns out this is the intended decent route, and easier (and much safer). We decided to climb this route the next morning. We woke up at 3:30 am and packed our stuff up for a night half way up the mountain. When we got part way up the glacier, not yet to the base of our climb, the weather got bad. Freezing rain sprinkles and wind, and looming dark clouds in the distance. We decided to turn around and try again tomorrow.

It rained all day. In the afternoon the avalanches started. Loud, scary rumblings of ice and rock fall could be heard from the original route glacier all afternoon. Thank god we did not climb that route! We sat imagining being roped in part way up that glacier getting pummeled with falling blocks of ice. It made us feel better that we did not hear or see anything from the couloir route we will climb. The next morning it was still raining, but clearing up. The snow on the mountain was all wet and loaded, and avalanches were still frequent. We used the satellite phone to call the local mountain rescue and weather info. As expected, they said that the snow was very unstable, especially the top 1000 m because of the wet precipitation and strong winds the day before. We only had two weather days scheduled into our plan, and we had already used them (one the first day, not making it to low camp, and one yesterday). So, stumped again in Kazakhstan, we turned around. John and Ahat went back to the low camp, while Rod and I decided to camp at a beautiful pond at the bottom of the glacier.
On the way back to low camp the following day, we snacked on wild blueberries and skipped stones in the river. This place is so beautiful; the flowers and herbs, the unique trees, the dramatic mountains, the light. From low camp, we walked to the horse guy's yurt, then took horses back to Rahmani the next day morning. From Rahmani we drove back to Ust-Kamenogorsk the same day, arriving at our hotel late and tired.

The next night, we went to the best traditional Kazakhstan food restaurant. The food was great, especially the lahman (hand pulled noodles) with horse meat. As we were ordering desert, a group of about 10 well dressed older ladies came into the restaurant and got a private room (hanging tapestries around a low table with pillows to sit on). After a while we could smell the distinct aroma of people smoking marijuana... the ladies? Yep... after about 15 minutes there was lots of giggling. Classic, the ladies night out and they light up right in the restaurant!
Kazakhstan!

Mt Khan Tengri

2007-08-11T05:37:00.000-07:00

Khan Tengri: 7/30-8/14/2007
Kazakhstan

I’m wet
And I’m cold
And I’m standing on a glacier
In Kazakhstan
Tien Shan
(insert video)

I stand singing this song, with a little dance, to keep warm inside the dining tent as it storms outside. The base camp at Khan Tengri (North Inchuk Glacier) is a scattering of many tents on wooden decks (they house two people), three pit toilets, and a large kitchen and dining tent. The dining tent is erected directly on the glacier ice (no deck floor) and is filled with 8 long tables, benches, electric lights, and a television with VCR.

Team Iran is sitting at another table playing chess and singing songs. It is raining and snowing outside just as the weather report we received from Michael Faigin in Seattle said it would. We came down because of this storm.

The sacred Tien Shan mountains are a major part of Eastern Spiritual History. Tien Shan means "celestial mountains ", or "heaven's mountains". They exend from the Pamir mountains, Tajikistan, NE through the Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region, Kyrgiz, Kazakhstan, NW China, to the China-Mongolia border. They are the source of many sacred rivers, and the home of the most esteemed sacred mountain, Khan Tengri. Tengri is the name of the Eternal Blue Sky God. Khan means Lord, a ruler or leader, but with a mystical twist. The mountain Khan Tengri is "Lord Eternal Blue Sky God", or "Lord of the Heavens". Tengriism was the main religion of central asia before Islam. The Northern Chineese, Mongos, Turks, Kyrgiz, Kazak, Alti, and many more peoples revered the Eternal Blue Sky. The core beings in Tengriism are Sky-Father (Tengri/Tenger Etseg) and Mother Earth (Eje/Gazar Eej). Khan Tengri is the second tallest mountain in the Tien Shan, and the furthest north 7000 m peak in the world (6995 m not including the glacier ice on top, or 7010 m total height; ~23,130 ft).

Preyers made to Khan Tengri can only be made for health, or aid in good deeds, and must always be made with palms facing the sky.

We flew into Bishkek, Kyrgiz at 3 am. After a nap in the hotel, we got our lay of the town and contacted Marat, who will be coordinating our logistics in Kyrgiz and Kazakhstan. Marat is a “snow lepord”, a Russian/Soiviet distinction meaning he has climbed at least three 7000 m mountains. We had been corresponding with him via email for about 8 months, and thought he would be our guide. The next day, Marat and Kiril met us at the hotel. Instead, Karil will be our guide for Khan Tengri. He has only climbed it once before, seems young (he is 20), but is reasonably experienced in mountaineering… and well, what can we do? Besides, most of the route has fixed ropes and follows a ridge.
We thought he would be OK. We were wrong.

Kiril, Rod, and I went shopping for food. Karil had a list of what was needed, so I picked out the 20 snickers bars, and 25 chocolate bars, and 5 blocks of cheese, and 5 whole salamis, while they got the other stuff (climbing Khan Tengri was planned to last 18 days). Then, with car loaded up with gear and food, we started the drive to the town of Karakol. We arrived around 10:30 pm and crashed. The next morning we continued the drive to the heli camp. Along the way we passed countless yurt camps with their herds of horses, bee hives, and 4WD trucks. I guess we crossed into Kazakhstan when we crossed the river to the heli camp, but there was no border control or even a sign.

At the heli camp we set our stuff up in the tent provided, had some lunch (yummy!), and met other climbers that were either headed to the base camp, or just coming back from it. One group of Spaniards told us that they had been caught by a snow storm for 5 days at camp 3 (5800 m) and only had two days of food. Luckily, they found some food left in a snow cave… mental note: this is a real mountain, and we need to take it seriously. Almost everyone coming back from base camp had bloody lips and blistered faces, either from frostbite or sunburn.

We were supposed to fly to the base camp the next day, but got pushed off to the next day by the heli operator… bummed. The day after that, Rod woke up with diarrhea and decided it was best to stay at the relatively comfortable heli camp one more day. It turns out, that after talking with our guide Kiril, he is not at all acclimated. He usually climbs 4000 m mountains, and the base camp of Khan Tengri is at 4000 m. He wants to spend two days at base camp acclimatizing before heading up to camp 1 (4600 m). We told him to go to base camp, and we would see him the next afternoon (giving him 2 nights there, and us not loosing any more days). So, it wasn’t until day 5 that we finally got a lift to base camp.
It had snowed there all morning and the camp was a village of white atop one of the biggest glaciers I have ever seen. Beautiful views of the mountain with its pyramid top of pink marble.

The next morning we headed up to Camp 1. Funny, the breakfast is served at 8:30 am and everyone starts getting ready after that… very unlike any other mountains we have climbed this year; climbers getting such a late start. But, that is how it’s done here… maybe because of the cold? From the base camp, we crossed the glacier (.5 hr) to the slope leading up to the ridge. The climb up was tough with all the fresh snow, and I was more tired than expected by the time we reached the big crevasse. After the big crevasse, it was just 3 fixed ropes up to the ridge and the camp. We set our tent up on a somewhat flat pad of rocks and made tea. Camp 1 was a little village of tents, with climbers there either going up or coming down. We had dinner and a lumpy sleep.

After some convincing, we got Kiril to agree to get up at 6 am and start up to camp 2 early. But alas, we didn’t actually leave until 9 am. We climbed shoddy fixed ropes (some static, some dynamic, and some k-mart plastic specials) for 8 hours up to camp 2 (5480 m). Some of the ropes were worn down to a few strands at the top… the climber doesn’t find out until after they climbed it… yikes! The climbing is steep, from 45 to 75 degrees, and mixed snow and rock. We were relieved to find out that the ropes from camp 2 up to the summit are newly replaced and in much better condition. The climb is a Russian grade of 5b (on a scale of 1a to 6b), or TD on the French mountaineering scale.

As we set up our tent in Camp 2, the snow started to fall and had reached blizzard proportion by the time we all piled inside. Unfortunately we followed Kiril’s idea to bring only one tent to camp 2. Having three wet, stinky people in one tent all afternoon, then cooking and eating dinner, and sleeping like sardines was not fun, to say the least.

Glad when the sun came up, I looked outside and saw a clear morning. But then it hit me… ooooohhh… head ache! For the first time in this trip, and surprisingly after being up at higher elevation many times recently, I was altitude sick. I felt pain in the base of my skull and forehead, and I was very lethargic. Rod, good dog, busted out breakfast and melted snow for tea. Kiril on the other hand, was looking and acting even sicker than me. He did not do anything, eat anything, or drink anything despite my urging him to do so. In the afternoon, he said he would go down instead of spending another night at camp 2 as planned. Because the slog up was so long and hard, Rod and I considered the idea of staying at camp 2, having a porter bring up a few things we need, and then continuing up (all of course, dependant on my headache getting better). When we gave Karil a list of what we needed, he got very angry and told us off, and left in a huff. But Ahh, the luxury when it was only two people in the tent for the evening and night!!!

We used our radios to check in with Kiril the next morning (day 2 in camp 2). He said he would send our stuff with a porter who was leaving base camp that morning. Meaning that the porter would go to camp 1 that day, and come to camp 2 the next. Well, that means two days sitting here, but it’s better than going down and coming back up, right? So we spent the day drinking tea and eating yucky mashed potatoes with tinned fish. We are out of chocolate… where is all that chocolate we bought? We had brought up extra food to camp 2 as a carry (to stash it so we didn’t have to carry so much coming up the 2nd time)… but Kiril had organized the food, and it looks like it wasn’t so well thought out. Where is the cheese, where is the salami? It snowed in the evening, so we played cards and listened to our audio book on our iPod with speakers (a godsend on this trip), to pass the time.
Day 3 in camp 2 – On the radio check, we asked about the food. Fortunately, there were some Koreans that had just arrived at base camp and left food at camp 2, so we could go take it. By the late morning, my head ache was still around, so we decided to go to camp 1 for the night, then back to camp 2 tomorrow. We packed up and started down. As we descended it started to snow and get very cold. We were moving very slowly and starting to argue. Rod wanted to go back up to camp 2, and I wanted to go down to camp 1. He was carrying the food, and refused to give me some so that I could go to camp 1 alone, and he could go back up to camp 2, thinking that it wasn’t safe to separate. Against my wishes, I went back up to camp 2. Lucky for me, the short decent and bit of activity seemed to have done the trick… my head ache was gone. We waited all afternoon, thinking about heading up to camp 3 tomorrow, but the porter with our stuff never showed up! At the evening radio check, Karil said that he came back down to base camp today instead of going up to camp 2. AAAkkkkhhh! We need that stuff to summit. Kiril said he would start up tomorrow, making it another 2 days before we get our stuff and can continue to camp 3.

We spent the 4th day in camp 2 drinking tea, playing cards, and practicing different rappel techniques on the frozen ropes. We know that in order to safely climb this mountain, we need to be able to descend it quickly and safely. The weather was beautiful, a perfect day for going to camp 3. The next day (day 5 in camp 2), around midday, Karil appeared at camp 2 with our stuff… some of it anyway. We offered him a cup of tea when he got to the camp, and tried to talk about going to camp 3 the next day. Again the weather was great… It could have been our summit day. Kiril slept in his own tent. We insisted he bring it up to camp 2. He was not very friendly.

We got up early after a very windy night and packed up our stuff to go to camp 3. It was very windy. The peak had a wind-formed cloud on one side of it and gusts were making me stumble as we walked up the first pitch from camp 2. After we crossed a knife edge ridge, we stopped to assess the situation. We had received, a few days ago, a weather report from Seattle that a low pressure system will move in tomorrow. It was highly likely we could get to camp 3 and be sitting there in a storm for 3 or 4 days. Rod and I brought food for 5 days, but when we asked Kiril how much food he had, he said only two days (how can a guide on a mountain like this not bring any extra food incase of emergency or bad weather?!!). We decided to go back to camp 2 and get an updated forecast and reassess. We have to be back at base camp on the 17th at the latest, and today is the 10th. Back at camp 2 again! Kiril got to the camp before us, disappeared into his tent, and didn’t say a word to us for the rest of the day. We hung out and talked to climbers coming down in the afternoon. Yesterday 3 people summitted! But they said it was VERY COLD, and it took 17 hours round trip (camp 3 to summit to camp 3).

We got an updated forecast the next morning, saying there would be 3 to 4 days of storm followed by high winds. Starting today! Here was the choice: either go up to camp 3 today, wait out 3 or 4 days of storm there, hope for a window immediately afterward for a summit attempt, and then high-tail it back to base camp arriving the night of the 17th, or, give up and go down to base camp today before the storm hits. We decided to go down. The likelihood of making the summit seemed remote, and 3 or 4 days cooped up with Karil didn’t sound too good either. We packed up our tent and all our stuff while Kiril sat watching us, then started down. The decent was slow and it started to snow just as we reached camp 1. We urgently continued the decent to the base of the glacier, where we expected to find Kiril waiting for us, to show us the way across the glacier. It was cold and raining when we got there, and he was no where to be found. We started across the glacier following the bits of trail we could find. The sun started to set, and we lost the trail. We were tired, hungry, dehydrated, frustrated, cold, and lost in the middle of a huge glacier, in the dark. Rod had the good idea of trying to radio the camp for some one to come out and find us. We radioed and got Kiril… he said “there is a trail.” Yes, but we obviously can’t find it, or we would not have radioed. After some back and forth, he came out to guide us back to the base camp. We were not in good moods. We ate dinner and went to bed, angry and tired and embarrassed.

It kept raining all night. The next day in the dining tent, I danced and sang…

I’m wet
And I’m cold
And I’m standing on a glacier
In Kazakhstan
Tien Shan

We flew back to the heli camp the next day.

In retrospect:

1) Climbing Khan Tengri on these frayed fixed ropes is very unsafe. What the guides say about the condition of the ropes is not reliable. If you want to be safe, find out the date they were last replaced, and assess from there.

2) Most people were climbing this mountain with an up and down acclimatization approach, doing carries. We saw that this was demoralizing and physically exhausting for most people. We spend 6 days at camp 2, which is also demoralizing and motivation killing. Neither is the way to do it. The best approach to this mountain is to climb some other mountain (maybe 5800 or 6000m), and then climb Khan Tengri alpine style… that is, go to camp 1, then directly to camp 2, one day rest at camp 2, then up to camp 3, summit and back to camp 3, camp 3 to camp 2, and camp 2 down.

This mountain was a real challenge and learning experience foe each of us. It pushed us physically, yes. But more so, it pushed us physiologically and emotionally. The experience mercilessly pointed out my weaknesses and faults and forced me to confront them. And the same for Rod. Consequently, it put a big strain on our relationship. It finally came down to the conscious choice of letting the shit that surfaced drive us apart forever, or just love each other through it. There were many arguments, but we chose love, and I think it has made us even stronger.

Lord Eternal Blue Sky Mountain, Thank you.

Mt Kazbek

2007-07-23T04:07:00.000-07:00

Mt. Kazbek: 7/21-24/2007
Georgia

We arrived in the Georgian capital of Tbilisi at 4PM. Picked up by a climber-looking guy at the airport. Driving through the city, we were struck by the contrast between beautiful old building and Soviet-looking newer buildings. Most old buildings were restored, and Tbilisi has an air of prosperity. We were told later that a lot of aid is pouring into Georgia. The US embassy is huge here. What for, is hard to imagine. There must be room for over 500 employees there, all this for a county of a few Million people?? Anyway, Georgian food (and wine) is great, something we've known from Russia. (Contrast this to Russian food- mayonnaise with this and that). A day later we started the drive to Mt. Kazbek. Visited a beautiful, XVth century church, built with the distinctive roof seen so often in Georgia.Further, we drove over a high pass, just past a ski resort. As we started down from the pass, we admired the covered section of the road (against avalanches, which are quite frequent here). This is the Georgian Military highway, linking Georgia to Russia. Of course, the border is closed now and Georgian wines were smashed in Russian winestores last year to "protect Russian consumers against inferior quality Georgian wine", a good joke if I ever heard one. Russia flexing its muscle.

On our way down from the pass, we stopped at a stream of carbonated mineral water, flowing over a tan mineral/rock formation. They say it has great healing and restorative power. We filled up our water bottles, tried some, weird taste. Georgians love it though. I guess we didn't really give it enough of a chance. The next morning we started our assent of Mt Kazbek, hiking from the village of Kazbek (1,700 M)...

... through the forest... ...to the hut on the glacier(3,700 M). Loooooong slog. Got a little interesting crossing a raging river, OK very interesting, but nobody fell in, so well is well.

We finally get to the hut, beautiful stone building dating to the 1930's. It was originally the Meteorological station and was later converted to an alpine hut. Time for tea; when we discovered how dirty a kitchen can really be. No cockroaches, but only because of the altitude. We were certain we were going to get sick, and we did. Our guide is nowhere to be seen and we wonder what we are going to eat. Finally he shows up with a few tins of liverwurst (but worse(t)) and bread. Oh well. We met two guys from Belgium who were waiting for their guide (and for the crampons and ice axes included in their "guided trip". By the time we left, two days later, the axes still did not show up). But they were really nice and gave us some of the pasta they made for dinner and some of their powdered milk. Digressing, but it seems that the former Soviet Union still has not fully embraced the concept of customer service- a fact observed in Russia in 2003 and 04, and later in Kyrgyz and Kazakhstan.

It took a while, but we finally convinced our guide that we needed to get up early for the summit attempt. So we started at 3:30 Am. Immediately our guide started at a blistering pace. We were seeing his headlamp off in the distance only occasionally, but we somehow managed to stay on the 'trail' while fumbling through talus fields (thanks only to Shelly's superior trail/tracking skill). We have 1,400 vertical meters to go!!! Digression No. 2. We observed this in many places: people (including guides who should know better) would start at a fast pace, leaving us behind, but within an hour or so they would slow way down, basically never recovering for the day.

Hmmm! Now roped up, we make our way through crevasse fields (I partially fell into one on the way down) as the sun begins to rise. And sure enough, when it gets steeper, our guide is hurting. He is going so slow, we decide to unrope and make our way without him. We were worried about the 6 inches of fresh snow
sliding later in the day, and wanted to be long gone by that time. An hour later, and 6 hours after we started, we are on the summit, 5,047 m!! The last 1,000 ft or so was hard, 45 degree snow slope, with some tracks, but basically wallowing through deep, fresh snow.

Beautiful views! But Kazbek has a gruesome legend. This is the place where Prometheus was chained down by Zeus to have his liver torn out by an eagle every day. Zeus knew that Prometheus was immortal, his liver would grow back everyday, he would have to endure the pain again and again and again.

In Greek mythology, Prometheus is one of the Titans. He is the supreme trickster, and considered the god of fire. His intellectual side is emphasized by the meaning of his name, Forethinker. Because he foresaw the defeat of the Titans by the Olympians (unlike Atlas), he sided with Zeus and was spared the punishment of the other Titans. Prometheus became a great benefactor of humankind. When Zeus mistreated humankind, Prometheus stole the secret of fire from the gods, and gave it to the humans. His sympathy with humankind roused the anger of Zeus, who then plagued him for an eternity of torture atop Mt Kazbek (Caucasus mountains).

After half an hour on the summit, we started down, collected our tired guide, and started the long (it was only 4 hours, but it sure felt longer) descent. Passed some Polish climbers who were going up. Team Poland (of which there was one on every mountain in Africa and Asia) ended up summiting and getting back to the hut around 9 PM, a 17 hour day. If anyone earned their summit, they did! Yeah for Team Poland!!!

Another night in the hut, which, hard to believe, is even dirtier than last night. We hear from a German group how wonderful the huts in Switzerland are... we need to check them up soon.

How much loooonger? We are descending back to town, 4 hours into it, with 55 pound packs. Managed again not to fall in the river, though was a lot closer for me this time. And we see the Monastery! On the way up we were looking forward to seeing it, but now it took now a lot of convincing on Shelly's part to walk the 10 minutes out of our way to visit it.

Of course was beautiful, and of course we would've felt stupid for not seeing it, but tired is tired. The Sameba monastery was built of beautiful, local rock with basorelief carvings on the outside. At the door, they hand Shelly a skirt to wear over her pants, and we go in. Very tall ceiling, and very austere inside. A few paintings, a few St. George icons, but you get the feeling that life used to be hard here.

Still, this church survived intact since the XIVth century, even the Soviet occupation did not put a dent in it.

Two hours later, we are driving back to Tbilisi. But first, a 3 Pm lunch, with home made wine (goes down easily) and potstickers.

Back in Tbilisi, we had dinner at a great restaurant , Kala, our second time there. Highly recommended. Finished the dinner with sour cherry liquor, which is a lot better than it sounds.

If only Prometheus could join have joined us.

Mt Ararat

2007-07-16T04:36:00.000-07:00

Mt Ararat: 7/13-17/2007
Turkey

... coming soon ...

Mt Nemrut Dag

2007-07-12T05:29:00.000-07:00

Nemrut Dag: 7/11-13/2007
Turkey

... coming soon ...

Mt Olympus

2007-07-08T04:23:00.000-07:00

Mt Olympus: 7/8/2007
Greece

We are in the Greek village of Lithochoro, at the base of Mt. Olympus and 10 km from the sea.

Rare view of Mt. Olympus. Mytikos is the tallest peak, right in the middle

A 5AM start (thank you Bob for driving us) takes us to the end of the mountain road; the trailhead to Mt. Olympus.

We start with headlamps on, but within 15 minutes the sunlight comes on. Beautiful electric colors spill through the trees. We admire, but we still have 2,000 M to go (UP!!).

Nobody on the trail, which we are not complaining about. Most people that climb Olympus do it in two days, overnighting at the hut (2,000M) or Refuge A, as it is signed.

Beautiful, clean place. We talked to the people at the refuge about skiing in the spring. We were informed that there are lots of avalanches above us, but not to the right, which had the same aspect (??). This is definitely a place to come in March or April. Very steep couloirs, somewhat reminiscent of Dana Plateau, about 1,000-1,500 foot long. You can probably camp here for a week and be thoroughly entertained.

After a 45 minute tea break at the refuge, we start on the final 1,000 M. Low elevation (by comparison to where we've been this year), so we go pretty fast.

We end up at the junction between Skala and Mytikos. Myticos is the highest peak at 2,918M. The path to it is very exposed, portions of it 3th class with pretty slick rock.

After less than an hour, we finally make it to the top, where there are a few people sunning themselves.

The views are spectacular. Mt. Olympus is renowned for being in the clouds all the time, so we are really lucky to see it basking in the sun.

To the South, we see the top of the ski resort, to the East the Aegean sea. And to NE, a grassy plateau where you can imagine the Greek Gods gathering and plotting against one another. The Mytikos peak is really too small (a few meters at most) and too jagged to be their gathering place.

We are plotting our next trip: take the ski lift up, traverse a few Kilometers, and set up camp. Maybe next year.

We start descending, pole-pole (this is slowly-slowly in Swahili- something we heard all the time on Kilimanjaro). We take it easy (and very carefully) on the exposed section,
then we get back to the Skala-Mytikos junction.

Loose talus makes the descent a chore. With sore knees, we arrive at the hut, where we see about 100 athletic students from Croatia. We rest and manage to leave right after them. This makes even slower going, though we were not exactly complaining.

4:30, and we finally make it to the trailhead.
"Why are we doing this to ourselves?" is the foremost question on our minds. 12,000 vertical feet in one day? I guess it's the trade-off between this and spending 3 days on the mountain, sleeping in a nice, but noisy hut.

Mt Parnassus

2007-07-02T04:23:00.000-07:00

Mt Parnassus: 7/1-2/2007
Greece

It was awesome. My parents met us in Athens and hung out with us while we were in Greece. It was great to see them, especially because this is the longest time i have spent without seeing them in my life! It was kind of like a rest, or break, from the trip being back with family, and being in relatively familiar and comfortable Europe.
We spent a couple days in Athens running errons and gathering essential, yet hard to find, things like zip-lock bags, face moisturizer with SPF, and cotton socks. And of course we visited the Parthenon, drank great wine, and ate too much food. Our first, of two, mountains to climb in Greece was Parnassus, site of the legendary oracle of Delphi. We drove to Arahova, a great mountain ski town on the slopes of Parnassus, and about 8km from Delphi. According to Greek mythology, this mountain was sacred to Apollo, the Corycian nymphs and was the home of the Muses. The Oracle of Delphi was sacred to the god Apollo. As the home of the Muses, Parnassus became known as the home of poetry, music, and learning. Just down the slope from Delphi, is the sanctuary of Athena. Athena is the companion of heroes and the goddess of heroic endeavor. She also became the goddess of wisdom and philosophy (the Parthenon and Athens are devoted to her as well). And lying between these two powerful monuments is the Castalian Spring. The sacred spring of Delphi lies in the ravine of the Phaedriades. The preserved remains of two monumental fountains that received the water from the spring can be visited today. We visited the oracle, then the sanctuary of Athena, then collected water from the sacred spring to carry to the summit of Mt Parnassus.

Sacred Delphi has it origins in prehistoric times and the worship of Gaia, the Earth Goddess. Only later did it become the religious and spiritual center of the acient Greek world. The legond says that Apollo made it his by killing the Python that guarded the oracle of Gaia. The way the oracle worked was classic... A priestess of the oracle, a Pythia, sat on a tripod seat over an active geologic vent on the side of the mountain. Fumes would rise out the vent (fumes containing who knows what kind of gasses...) and intoxicate the Pythia. She would fall into trance, allowing Apollo to possess her spirit, and make prophesies. Usually this came out as mumbled gibberish, so a priest would interpret what she said into something understandable. People consulted her on everything from important matters of public policy to personal affairs.

The day after visiting Delphi (and trying to inhale as much oracle air as possible :), we set out early in the morning to climb to the summit of Parnassus. Many thanks to my dad for driving us to the ski resort where we would begin the climb. My mom, dad, rod and I all started up the ski runs, heading to the top ridge of the resort. Gun shots rang out periodically, and we were all a bit worried about who was shooting and weather they saw us coming up or not. At the mid lodge, my dad turned around and went back to the car to wait for us to return, and the 3 of us continued up the ridge.

At the top, the gun shots were louder! We started walking along the well marked trail off the top the resort and into the deeper mountain. We reached a small fissure in the rock where the trail went and were stunned to find a air powered cannon shooting into the fissure. After some careful inspection, we decided it wasn't shooting anything but air. Still, it was still scary walking in its range and through the fissure as it fired at us.

At the base of the final pitch to the summit, we stopped for some lunch. We brought cheese, bread, some tomatoes, and 1.5 L of local white wine. We ate and drank a little too much (considering we are still in the middle of a long hike), and then started the slog to the top. Hurray!! We summitted!! And, even better... My totally Awesome Mom just charged up here! She was leaving me behind on the way up! Yeahhh Mom!!

We offered the water from the Castilian spring to the mountain and hung out a bit, then headed down. It was long walk down. Especially walking the last part through the ski resort. When we finally reached the gravel road that would take us to the parking lot, we composed the road song...

"We are on the Road, Yeah!

We are on the Road.

Walking on the Road, Yeah!

Walking on the Road.

No more stumbling, no more fumbling

We are on the Road!"

My Dad was waiting with the car. Yea Dad! We headed back to town tired and hungry, but in good spirits, having enjoyed our time with the beautiful Mt Parnassus (we didn't see any Nymphs though).

Amboseli Safari

2007-06-26T05:27:00.000-07:00

Amboseli National Park Safari: 6/25-27/2007
Kenya

After climbing three mountains in East Africa, Rod and I were ready for a few days relaxation. We decided to go stay at the Amboseli Serena Lodge in the Amboseli National Park… maybe we will see some animals too!

Little did we know, Josiah hooked us up with the full safari deal. A driver picked us up at the Tanzania/Kenya border to drive us to the lodge. Turns out, he will be staying at the lodge for the whole time we are there; ready to take us out to look for animals any time we want! Yahh Hooo!!

Just on the drive to the lodge we saw some real treats! Warthogs, Wildebeests, Herons, Gazelles, and so much more!

It is kind of weird the way the parks are set up. You must be in a vehicle at all times, you cannot get out and walk. They all have pop top roofs so that you can feel like you are outside (and get the unobstructed views). The lodge is fenced in with electric fence… no animals in, and only white trucks out. And all the vehicles must stay on the designated roads. In this way, it seems that the wildlife is undisturbed by the big white metal creatures that walk along their paths and sometimes stop. It was like we were just another species grazing on the plain, and could therefore be ignored by everyone else. It made for amazing wildlife viewing and some great photos!

We took two drives, one in the evening (when we saw Elephants, Hyena, Ostrich, and Zebras, just to name a few) and one in the morning. The morning drive was spectacular… the most amazing sunrise! We also got to see a cheetah, with two cubs, who has just made a kill. The rest of the time, we relaxed, got massages, ate too much, and enjoyed watching the little monkeys run all over the trees and buildings. The lodge was very nice. We had a great room with a bath tub and clean white linen… such luxury after weeks of camping.

The morning we left the lodge, the skies cleared and reveled Mt Kilimanjaro overlooking the abundant plains. It was the first time we saw the mountain in whole. What a great way to end our East African journey; driving along marsh lands busy with elephants, hippopotamus, and eagles, with a glacier capped Kilimanjaro back drop!

Kenya and Tanzania… we have enjoyed our time here very much, met friendly good-natured people, and fallen in love with this amazing place.

Mt Ol Doinyo Lengai

2007-06-23T07:07:00.000-07:00

Ol Doinyo Lengai: 6/23-24/07
Tanzania

All we can think is '' This is crazy!!!''.

We are on top of Lengai, IN THE CRATER, and it's active. There is lava, warm, inside the crater, and less than 50 meters away we can see black lava shooting in the air every 30 seconds or so.

God is on the summit

Ol Doinyo Lengai is Mountain of God in Masai. When the volcano is errupting, legend has it that god is on the summit. We didn't see god, but certainly felt that we were really close to meeting her.

After Kilimanjaro, we spent the night in Arusha. We had dinner at the L'Oasis Lodge restaurant, after a taxi drive that you only see in movies. The taxi took us through a neighborhood with fires lit up on the street, lots of people mingling, probably pretty safe, but we were still glad we were ın a taxı instead of walking. The atmosphere reminded me of being in Santiago, Chile the night of Pinochet's ousting aniversary. There were people celebrating and mourning the event, and they weren't necessarily frıendly to each other, or anyone else.

Arusha, by the way, is mosquito heaven. Open stangant water everywhere, and as a side note, over 80 % of the people have malaria, sometimes under control, but never cured. Somebody might know the answer, but why doesn't malaria spread thru Europe, where there are a lot of African immigrants, some presumably malaria afflicted?

A day later we were being driven to Lengai, a 4,000 meter active volcano, which errupts once a year or so.

As we turned off the main road onto a dirt one, we saw two teenagers in full Masai dress, WITH spears ın their hands. My immediate thought, loudly spoken, was:
"This is so fake! Look at the lengths the Tanzanians are going to provide a tourist experience!"

Lucky for us, they were the real thing, and over the next two days we saw plenty more, boys and men, all in full dress, and with spears.

Masai Village

It took a little negotiation (it's too eaaarly!!!), but in the end we convinced the guide to leave at 2 AM (instead of the 6 AM originaly proposed by him). So now we are driving on a pretty bad road, driver and guide never having gone to sleep at all after drinking the whole night, and we see Chuck, but taller. (Chuck is our tabby cat).

İt was an African wild cat, from which the domestic cat descends. The wild cats mate with domesticated ones, which makes me wonder how much longer they will survive as a distinct species.

Anyway, we are hiking now, pretty steep, and definitely very loose dirt. After a couple of hours we get to the crux, in this case a 40 degree, 1000 foot stretch of lava covered with salt, which made it preeety slippery, OK for going up, but what goes up must come down!
So at sunrise (yeah for early risers) we are in the Lengai crater. A spectacular view 360 degrees. Twice a minute a booming sound and this black liquid shoots in the air, pretty close to us. Beautiful, then we realize that it's lava, at well over 1000 degrees.

Holly shit, this is real! All around us there are barely cooled down, hardened lava flows that crack and pop as they cool. They spill out of the crater and down the side of the mountain. The whole experience is definitely not OSHA approved.

İn the crater

Rasta man

Lots of pictures later we start down, and we manage to get down the steep salt covered rock without tumbling. Definitely sketchy!
Going down

"So, did you kill a lion?" we asked the Masai guide. Head low, in a scolded dog attitude..."NO, i didn't. And... İ only have two cows. İ can't get married.... "

The Masai tradition, still in force today, requires that a man kills a lion, with a spear, before he can get married. And he needs a bunch of cows as well, to buy his future bride.

Bad for the lions, of course, but in a way self limiting: Lions get killed, Masai men can't marry, Masai population goees down, lions thrive again.

A bit lower we see some quail look-alike birds, and this is where cultural differences are revealed: Shelly and İ: "Oh, look at the pretty birds!" Masai guide breaks into a run and throws his spear to get dinner. Lucky for the birds, which by now were pretty freaked out, his aim was the same as with the lion... off.

Lengai was a beautiful hike, the kind of mountain that nobody would go to Africa specifically to climb, but its erupting crater 4,000 ft above the flat plains make it spectacular. And of course, all the way up İ was thinking: İMAGİNE THİS THİNG WİTH SNOW! İt would make an epic ski run.

Baobab trees

Did İ say how much İ love our Hillebrand tent?

Mt Kilimanjaro

2007-06-17T07:05:00.000-07:00

Mt Kilimanjaro: 6/17-22/07
Tanzania

Summer Solstice

"Summer Solstice is active: it's about doing and expanding, living the dream envisioned in the dreamtime of Winter"(Ruth Barrett, 2004). Our trip around the world, visiting and practicing with sacred mountains, is entering it's second half, its third phase, as the cycle of earth enters summer. The shoots and cotyledons of spring have grown into muscular stems, ready to build and support the fruit of our practice. We feel strong and able to nurture and sustain our focus as we travel into the second half of our circumnavigation. We spent the winter solstice on Mt Shasta, California, the spring equinox on the slopes of Mt Illampu, Bolivia, and the summer solstice summiting Mt Kilimanjaro, Tanzania; the other side of the globe.

We were strong on this mountain. "You are strong, like Bu-FAllo", a porter said to us as we arrived at the high camp. Still acclimatized from our time in South America, the elevation of Kilimanjaro (5895m, 19340 ft) had little affect on us. But somehow, the physical act of hiking had little affect as well. We summited in record time, and amazingly, weren't even tired. It was no problem, no suffering, not even memorably any work. Very odd... it was the power of the Solstice. The prediction received at the Rock of the Jaguar (Isla del Sol, Lake Titicaca) was right on.

After we returned from Mt Kenya, Josiah hooked us up with bus transport over the Tanzania border and to the town of Moshi. He also hired his cousin, Jerald, to be our guide for the mountain. Kilimanjaro is highly regulated by the Tanzania government (and milked for all the profit possible). All climbers are required to have a guide, despite the fact that the route is just a walk up trail, and camping locations are all well marked and obvious. And, it is basically impossible to just hire a guide... they come with porters and a cook... the full shebang. Rod was calling it the Full Employment act of Tanzania.

Anyway, the morning we are to head to the mountain, a reggae blaring, red-yellow-green painted, "one love" stickered van pulls up to our hotel... packed with a bunch deadlocked Rastafarians. We pile all our stuff in the Van and get in. Crammed full with us, the 3 porters, our cook, Josiah, bags of fresh vegetables and loaves of bread, our driver circled the van around town a few times looking for Jerald, the guide. Once everyone was stuffed inside, "Team Rasta" headed to the Kilimanjaro National Park gate, at Umbwe Village.
We decided to hike the Umbwe route up to the Barranco Camp (3950 m), instead the more popular and less steep/direct Marangu route. Glad we did, because it was a beautiful trail through the jungle and then along the top of a steeply sided ridge. It even had some rock scramble sections to keep it interesting.

At the Umbwe trail head, the porters packed up their bags to be weighed by park personnel. We were supprized to see that they were not packing the stuff into backpacks... it was packed into baskets and duffel bags. Why? These crazy guys carried 50+ lb bags on the top of their heads! Up trails that were rocky and steep and sometimes 3rd class scrambles!! Wow!

Some children at the gate were very interested in us. They stared and stared, and wanted to touch my skin and my hair... it was all the wrong color... was it real? At the trail head also was a father and daughter from Poland. They were very nice, and since we are leaving at the same time, we will probably be seeing them our whole trip. Worried about altitude sickness, they were carrying 4 L of water each! That is heavy. We named them "Team Poland".

After weighting and signing papers and such, we started up the mountain. We camped that night at the Cave Camp, just a clearing and flat spot in the thick forest. We were pleasantly surprised at dinner time because one of the porters, Stanley, will also be our server! He was very careful and sweet, saying "Welcome" every time he did anything. Imagine... hiking up and camping on a mountain, and being served tea and dinner on a table cloth!
The next day we slept in a bit, then continued up the steep trail toward the Barranco Camp. The excitement came when the trail stopped at a rock wall. A short 4th class scramble up the wall and we were off. The porters with huge bags on their heads carefully scaled the rockiness. We stopped for lunch a short way from the camp, and followed it with an hour nap in the warm sun. Liking Kilimanjaro so far! We had arrived at camp much earlier than most people, and spent the afternoon reading and relaxing in the tent. "Mambo VP, Dada" said Stanley as he served us our hot morning tea in the tent vestibule. "Ready for breakfast, Caca?" (Team Rasta had begun calling each other Dada and Caca, which means sister and brother respectively). We had a leisurely breakfast and were last of the groups to leave camp. We were the first group to arrive at the next camp, Karanga Valley camp, 4000m. To get there we had to walk up "the wall", which was a steep lava rock ridge. Along the way we met a group of Italians, Team Italy, and I really enjoyed talking with Gretchen, the woman of the group (have not had a lot of contact with other women on this trip :). At Karanga Valley camp, we watched a truly Kilimanjaro sight... a group of porters arrive and set up a huge, heavy tent, tall enough to stand in. Then set up a table and chairs inside. Pretty soon a group of about 5 hikers show up, eat lunch in the tent, then continue on up the trail. The porters clean up, collapse the table and chairs, take the tent down, and put it all on their heads and walk on up the trail. All that just for the group to have lunch!! Crazy!

The next day we continued at lightning speed to Barafu Camp (4600 m). This is the high camp. We enjoyed the great views of Mt Meru (4566 m) along the way, and drank water until we could take no more at the last creek before the camp, as there is no more water available above it. At Barafu camp, we had most of the day to kill, so all of Team Rasta took naps. Some of the other porters when arriving at the camp, were jealous that their colleagues got to rest so much, so walked around our tents yelling "Wake up Rasta!". We had an early dinner so that we could get a full night's sleep in before the summit attempt the next morning.

Stanly brought us hot tea and peanut butter and hunny sandwiches at 1:45 am, the night of Solstice. We left camp at 2:30 with Jerald and one of the porters. We were the last group to leave the camp, and enjoyed seeing the ribbon of headlamps bobbing up the mountain in front of us. About half way to the Stella point, the porter with us turned around, our pace was killing him. We passed everyone on the way up, hung out at Stella point (5680 m) until we were just too cold to stay, and were on the summit before sunrise at 6:00. We stood at the summit to watch the sun rise. What an amazing view. The crater's rings and glacier ice of Kilimanjaro with a Solstice sunrise raying gold and orange. It was cold though, otherwise i would have wanted to stay there all day! But, we headed down... Got in some good gravel foot glissade above Barafu, packed up our stuff, had second breakfast, and continued down toward Mweka Camp at 3100 m. This was a 10,000 ft decent! With knees aching, we stopped about 2 hours before Mweka at a hut where they were selling beer. We rested, imbibed, then continued "pole, pole" ("slowly, slowly") downward.

When we finally arrived at Mweka, were were beat. While eating dinner, we saw Team Poland arrive at the camp. They summitted, but they looked exhausted and not very happy. The following day, we walked the last decent through the forest to the Mweka Gate/Village. We talked with a father and his two sons from Reno (Team Reno) on the way down; they ski at Squaw. Small world.

At the gate, we received our certificates saying we climbed Kilimanjaro, and were picked up by Joshia. Team Rasta drove into town and ate one last meal together (ugali (corn meal mush), goat meat, greens, and beer), before they dropped us off at our hotel in Arusha.

"Summer Solstice is active: it's about doing and expanding, living the dream envisioned in the dreamtime of Winter"... Thank you Kilimanjaro! And thank you Team Rasta!

Mt Kenya

2007-06-08T07:01:00.000-07:00

Mt Kenya: 6/8-14/07

Kenya

We arrived in Nairobi at 4:00 in the morning and were immediately accosted by tour operators and scam artists. We took a nap at the hotel, and when we walked back into the lobby, they were waiting for us! We couldn't get away! Finally we shook everyone off and began looking for transportation to Mt. Kenya, our first mountain in East Africa. That is when we met Josiah, he was a nice, honest, and capable guy to organize our logistics.
Mt Kenya is a 5199m rocky mountain with two peaks, Nelion and Batian. Around the base of the mountain are 12 glaciers, but the one we saw, was small and getting smaller every day. It is well known that the glaciers on Kilimanjaro are disappearing, but the more immediate tragedy are the glaciers on Mt Kenya. Throughout history, many of the tribes around Mt Kenya held this rocky ice covered spire as sacred. The Kikuyu people deified it and still believe it's the seat of their supreme god Ngai. Some say it is the mystical source of the sacred Nile. Both summits are technical climbs, and Batian is best done in June and July, when Nelion is covered with Ice. We decided to climb the Batian North Face Standard Route, a 22 pitch rock climb with an overnight bivy about half way up.

Josiah hooked us up with transportation to the Sirimon Gate of Mt Kenya National Park, stopping for lunch in Nanyuki. From there we decided to take a chance hiking through the forest to the Moses hut that afternoon, instead of doing it in the morning as planned. It can be dangerous to hike the forest late in the day because of the elephants. When we asked what we should do if we see an elephant, they said, "well, elephants are afraid of smoke, so you can light a fire in the road." Yeah, right, an elephant is about to charge us and we just light a fire real quickly... "OK. What else can we do if we encounter an elephant?" They told us that elephants are very near sighted, so we will see them first... "So, drop your bags and run. Run downhill because elephants are slower going down." So with this great advice, and our 50+ pound backpacks full of climbing gear, we set out through the forest yelling "Hey Elephant!" every minute or two, and singing the Elephant Song (which we just composed!).

"we are Friends Of Elephant
Shelly and Rod are F.O.E.s
elephants are nice
elephants are beautiful
elephants have big ears
and elephants are wise
Elephants!
Elephants!
we are Friends of Elephant
letting our presence be known"

We made it to the Moses hut before dark, and just after a group of ~25 middle school kids on an end of the year field trip. They were so loud! These kids operated at volume 11 all through dinner, continuing until their teachers finally shut them up at 2 or 3 in the morning. Rod and I slept in our tent outside, but could still hear the giggles and screams well into the night.

The next morning, we reluctantly slugged our enormous packs (Rod’s was 62 lbs) onto our backs and started the grueling 19 km hike to the Shiptons Hut (4200m). As we walked up the long valley toward the distant peak, the scrub vegetation changed into a woodland of odd Joshua tree-like plants, and 'Cousin It' relatives. With the rocky summit of Mt Kenya appearing through the clouds periodically, we trudged through this otherworldly alpine flora and felt like we were entering a mystical land.

Once at Shipton, we set up camp and went inside the hut to make some dinner. The kids were there again, and louder than ever. We hoped the long hike would tire them out, but no such luck. We made onion soup with spaghetti, and drank hot sugary milk. Tomorrow we will take a rest day and prepare for the climb.

We spent the morning napping and reading and chasing the cute curious Hyrax. These little marmot-like animals are the closest living relative to the elephant! Go figure. Then we walked up to the base of the climb to check out our route. The group of kids hiked up to Point Lenana, the highest point you can hike to. We thought for sure they would be quiet tonight, but no! Loud and boisterous as ever.

In the morning we woke early and headed to the climb. Our packs were heavy because we had a full climbing rack and gear to bivy overnight (bivy sacks, sleeping pads, sleeping bags, water, food, some warm clothes). The first pitch was slow as we got used to climbing with the extra weight, but the second and third were faster.

When we got to the prominent corner, that leads to a slab traverse that will take us to 'the amphitheatre' (where we bivy), we were behind schedule. And then, the clouds started to move in; icy cold wind and quickly closing visibility. We were tired from climbing with the overnight gear, moving more slowly that we wanted, and it sure looked like something big was rolling in. Within 15 minutes, it started to snow. We reluctantly decided to turn around. We rappelled off and were shaking uncontrollably from the cold by the time we reached the ground. Good thing we turned around too, because it wasn't just an afternoon thunder storm, it snowed all night and put down about 5 inches. If we had continued climbing, we would have had a freezing night, and a climb covered with snow and ice in the morning. The next morning a rescue helicopter was circling the mountain. I guess another climbing team, on a different route, got stuck up there.

Well, this is another mountain I definitely want to come back to. Perhaps in the winter to climb the Nelion route. It is shorter and doesn't require the overnight bivy. And the weather is supposed to be more stable at that time. Regardless, the experience was great. And still, as my friend Paul said, "getting stormed off a 22 pitch climb in Africa is pretty cool."

The next day we hiked to the Mintos Hut and set up camp. All around this camp sight are beautiful lakes that look over the cliff edge of the Gorges Valley. In the morning we set out for the Chogoria gate. This decent was absolutely beautiful and varied. We started in the funky alpine flora, into grasslands, through bamboo, and into jungly wetlands. We saw (smelled first) a waterbuck (Kobus ellipsiprymnus) as we entered the wetlands, and were careful about surprising the Buffalo as we crossed it. We made it to the Bantas in the late afternoon. We got a cabin, enjoyed a HOT shower, and even acquired beer with dinner!

Josiah met us there the next morning, arriving in a Land Rover to get us over the muddy jungle road and to Chogoria town. The Land Rover filled up with folks heading to town, including one riding with the bags on the roof.Mt Kenya. Outstandingly beautiful. And the god Ngai sent us away with the mission of visiting this place again.

Mt Zion & Temple Mount

2007-06-02T04:59:00.000-07:00

Mt Zion: 6/2/07, Temple Mount: 6/3/07
Jerusalem

... coming soon ...

Mt Sinai

2007-05-30T04:58:00.000-07:00

Mt Sinai: 5/30/07
Egypt

Of course this expedition would not be complete without a journey up, arguably, the most famous sacred mountain in the world. Rising up out of the dry sands of the Sinai desert, higher than the other rocky peaks surrounding it, is the towering Mt Sinai (2285m). İt is locally known as Gebel Musa. Although disputed by archaeologists and historians as the exact place, Christians, Muslims, and Jews all believe that God presented his Ten Commandments to Moses on its summit; a place profoundly sacred to all the world's major monotheistic religions.

To get there we got tickets for the "Fast Boat" ferry from Aqaba, Jordan to Nuweiba, Egypt. Boy, that was not true! The "Fast Boat" supposedly left at 11am and took 1.5 hours (we will get there by 1 at the latest, we thought). We didn't even board until noon, we sat at the dock until 3, and we got there at 5:30. It was complete unorganized chaos... and they do the same trip every day... you would think they would have it downpat?!. At the port in Egypt we hired a taxi, driven by a Bedouin who had two wives (Rod was very interested in talking about that!), to take us to Saint Katherine's, a town deep in the Sinai desert.

We ate dinner with our driver at a Bedouin restaurant, then were dropped off at the road to St Katherine's Monastery. Situated right at the base of Mt Sinai, this monastery has been in continuous operation since AD 330. İt is believed to be built beside the burning bush from which God spoke to Moses. It is one of the oldest continually functioning monastic communities in the world, and its chapel is one of early Christianity's only surviving churches. Because it has never been raided or sacked, İt is filled with an amazing collection of artwork and theological writings compiled over centuries. To get to the monastery, we had to pass through an armed police checkpoint, and walk with bags in hand 1 km up the dirt road, to its entrance.

When checking into the St Katherine's Monastery Guesthouse, we asked about the route up to the summit. The monk suggested we take the "Camel Route". Everyone takes the Camel Route. Looking at the map, I saw another, more direct route up and asked about it. "That," he said, "ıs The 3750 Steps of Repentance. It is very difficult." Turns out this trail (staircase really) was laid by one monk as a form of penance. He must have been really bad, because that was some serious work!

We got up at 2AM and walked through the shadows inside the monastery walls toward the beginning of the 3750 steps. After shaking off the enterprising Bedouin guides, we started up the ancient steps. They quickly led up a narrow rock walled gorge, twisting and climbing through small patches of sweet smelling pennyroil and sage. The gorge just got more and more beautiful. Sometimes we would get up onto a wide ledge and see the other rocky peaks, silhouetted with stars, over the gorge walls. We passed a chapel part way, and later through two narrow freestanding stone arches. Something about the narrow steep path, the sweet smelling darkness, and passing through these old doorways, really made the act of climbing Sinai feel like a sacred journey. The path almost glowed with the power of over 1500 years of people making this pilgrimage.

We stepped through the second stone arch and reached a small plateau under the summit. There were two stone chapels, a light wind rustling through an old tree, and a quiet monk selling hot tea. We were one of only two groups of people who took the 3750 steps up. Everyone else took the camel trail, and we were stunned to see how many lights zig-zaged up the last few switchbacks to the summit. It was like a torchlight parade! With the skies windy and hinting of rain, we sat with the monk and enjoyed some sweet tea and simple conversation while watching the lights. So glad we came up this way and not up the boring route with the noisy throng of tourists. And it is not true, this route is not difficult or hard to navigate. It is really the only way to experience this mountain!

After tea we joined the masses heading up the final stretch to the summit. İt was still before dawn when we arrived, so Rod and İ found a wind sheltered spot between some rocks to sit and wait. While sitting there, we suddenly realized that we both forgot our first wedding anniversary! Oh, that is bad! But we also realized that it doesn't really matter that the day isn't exactly right, as far as we are concerned we are celebrating our anniversary by watching the sun rise from the summit of Mt Sinai. And instead of a romantic dinner with a bottle of sparkling wine or something, we would get a celebratory cup of hot tea to sip together on the way down.

After the sun rose, we got to see the magnificent magical views all around us. The rich colors, interesting rock shapes and textures, and misty skies over the Sinai desert are just gorgeous. We gave our offering of water and started the walk down. We were sipping hot anniversary tea while walking down when a Bedouin camel jockey offered us camel rides. How could we pass that up?! He led us to his animals, and after scaryly standing up, we began a very painful and funny journey down the camel trail. The way they have the saddles; a big wooden post is cramming into your crotch as you ride! The gangly awkwardly moving camels clomp heavily down the rocky trail, and the jockey doesn't give any instruction on how to ride comfortably. Ouch!

Back at the monastery, with aches in all the wrong places, we ate some breakfast, then found our driver to head back to the ferry and Jordan.

Mt Jebel Tannur

2007-05-28T08:12:00.000-07:00

Jebel Tannur: 5/28/07
Jordan

"We must have passed it."
"OK. I'll turn around, but I didn't see anything... and Ι was looking."
"It has got to be around here somewhere. Hey, look at that mountain, it looks like it is separated from all the others, unique... maybe it's that one?"

This is our conversation as we drive up and down Jordans Wadi Hesa valley searching for the elusive Jebel Tannur. Atop this mountain, if we ever find it, are the ruins of the Khirbet et-Tannur Nabatean temple. The Nabatean people were traders who flourished in southern Jordan and northern Arabia from about 500 BC to 50 BC. They traded goods and culture with the Egyptians, Greeks, and other cultures of the day, until the Romans ended things.

The Nabatean culture is important to this expedition because they worshiped mountains. Their temples, places of worship and sacrifice, were on the top of mountains. The archaeologist, Philip Hammond, comments that: “the god of the people was Dushares, 'Lord (dhu) of the Shara (Mountains)'. They had a mountain god... people of my own heart. Their major female deity was Al-Uzza, who was usually represented as a lion. Their major male deity was AlQaum, a warrior god, who was associated with the bull.

"I think i saw something! Turn around again."
"Yeah, that old rusted sign, i think i can read the word 'Tannur'."
"This is it!"

We turn off the paved road onto a gravel track skirting a small hill and head strait toward the one mountain that seemed individual in the area. When we park, we are passed by a Bedouin boy and his goats, walkiıng from his tent/house to pasture... İ cant imagine where. He looks at us like he can't imagine what we are doing there. We grab some water and start walking along the animal trails up the side of the mountain. Not really believing that we will find anything, we reach the summit and see the pillar bases and carved blocks of an ancient temple. The temple basically takes up the entire summit of this peak... we can only imagine how grand and impressive it was when it was standing. Rows of pillar bases surround a raised platform and altar. Much of the ground is flat, paved with rock squares. There are round fallen pillar pieces, carved roof blocks, and stones with engraved writing everywhere! Amazing! From the bottom you would never know this is up here!

We explore and admire for quite a while. Then head back down to the car and down the valley toward the southern coast of Jordan. Along the way we find another Nabatean ruin, Khirbet --ναμε---. Οη μαν, νος τηε αλπηαβετ ηασ βεψομε γρεεκ. ςηατ αμ ι σθπποσεδ το δο_ Ι δοντ κνος ηος το σςιτψη ιτ βαψκ!

Mt Nebo

2007-05-27T04:45:00.000-07:00

Mt Nebo: 5/27/07
Jordan

Following the twists of the road to the top of Mt Nebo, goats wander through the dry rocky landscape, tent homes of the Bedouin are scattered in the swirling dust, and huge machine guns are mounted to the top of hummers parked at the road's check points.

We are in the Holy Land. We are following the route Moses was forbidden to travel by the King Edom (Numbers 20), and headed to the spot where Moses was given a view of the Promised Land (Deuteronomy 34:1) and where Moses was later buried, by the Hebrew God himself. The episode of Balak and Balam (2:13-26) also took place here.

From the top (817 m, 2680 ft) is a panoramic view of the "holy land", including the River Jordan, the Dead Sea, and the Palestinian West Bank. They say that the cities of Jericho and Jerusalem are visible on a clear day (which is not surprising because they are just on the other side of the valley), but alas, it is not a clear day.

We walk up the stone pathway and into the courtyard of the Byzantine chapel at the summit. The chapel was originally built in the 4th century AD, and is now a mix of museum and peaceful sanctuary. The whole place has an easy, holy, peaceful feel. An olive tree outside, one among many, was planted by the Catholic Pope John Paul II, to promote peace between the Muslim and Christian people. The inside is a simple stone walled chapel and alter, flanked by beautiful, nicely preserved tile mosaics depicting animals and various christian stories. Outside is a very interesting sculpture of a cross with a serpent twisted around it.

As we look out over the valley of the River Jordan, I am struck by the power that the legends of this place have, and have had, over people. Wars and wars and wars have been fought over mere details pertaining to this place. I think about this as i meditate and make my offering of water to the mountain. When i pour the water out of the bowl, something happens that has not happened anywhere yet, one of the stones falls out of the bowl! I am not surprised when i realize that the stone that fell out is Rose Quartz. Rose Quarts, the stone of love. It opens up the heart for both giving and receiving love. It brings gentleness, forgiveness, compassion, kindness and tolerance. More of that is exactly what this place needs.

Soaking our feet in the altra super salty water of the Dead Sea.

Mt Atlas

2007-05-18T07:24:00.000-07:00

Mt. Atlas (Jebel Toubkal), Morocco : 5/18-19/2007

I take a sip of hot, sweet, strong mint tea. Rod and the taxi driver are looking at our topo map of Jebel Toubkal as another young man points out the trail and route. We have just arrived after a two hour drive from Marrakesh, and are waiting for our lunch sandwiches (egg with fried onion and tomato in flat bread) to be made before we start our hike. The air is clear and hot, but the sad, desperate screams of two goats, who are laying on the ground, legs tied, awaiting slaughter, are making me uneasy. What does Atlas have in store for us?

A long time ago, Gaia and Uranus had 12 children. Known as the 12 Titans, these are the parents, aunts, and uncles of the Olympian Gods. The Titans Cronus and Rhea are the parents of Zeus, and Titans Lapetus and Clymene are the parents of Atlas. So, Atlas and Zeus are cousins. The Titan Cronus ruled the gods, but Cronus was getting old, too old. His son, Zeus, wanted to rule the gods, so set out to fight Cronus and take the throne. He organized his brothers and sisters into an army against their father. Atlas, in defence of Cronus, organized an army too, and they fought a battle for 10 years. Needless to say, Zeus' forces won. Zeus banished all those who fought against him to Tartarus (where they remain), but since Atlas led the opposition, he was punished more severely. He was sent to the farthest western corner of the world, where the sun sets, and there he must hold up the heavens on his shoulders for eternity.

The air is heavy as we set out from the village of Imlil, up the Mizane river valley, toward the climbers refuge where we will spend the night. The high Atlas mountains are beautiful, rugged, and brown, scattered with brilliant green oasis of palm trees or small irrigated plots of wheat or nut trees. We walk with full packs up the dusty trail, getting passed by horses loaded with the backpacks of other hikers, and then by the hikers themselves. At one point, we pass two Berber girls, selling bottles of soda cooled in a small waterfall. They decide to taunt Rod, yelling in Berber and gesturing to him that because he has a necklace on, he must be gay... or a dog... we aren't exactly sure. We stop in a little village for a cup of mint tea where the trail crosses the river. Later, tired and hungry, we finally see the climbers refuge in the distance. As we walk up the valley toward it, a cold wind picks up and we get basted with some icy rain.

A long time ago, Hercules walked up the valley toward where Atlas and his wife Phoebe had their home and garden. Hercules was completing the 'Twelve Labors' required of him if was to escape enslavement and become immortal. One task was to get a golden apple. In the orchard at Atlas' house was the golden tree, guarded by a fierce dragon, that bore golden apples. Hercules approached Atlas as he stood holding the heavens on the ridge top, and asked for a golden apple. Atlas thought his release had finally come! He said to Hercules, "Sure, you can have an apple. I can go get it for you from my orchard, the dragon cannot hurt me. If you just hold this burden for me, i will go get the apple." So Hercules took the heavens onto his shoulders. Atlas thought he was very clever for tricking Hercules. Atlas was free! That dumb lump could hold the heavens for eternity! So Atlas went to the garden and got an apple and brought it up to where Hercules was, like he said he would. Because Hercules could not take the apple into his hands, Atlas put the apple on the ground and thinking he was so slick, started to walk away. Hercules, thinking quickly said, "Oh how could i have been so tricked! Now i have to hold the heavens on my shoulders forever! Whew, this is really uncomfortable! If i just had a pad to put between my shoulders and the heavens, it might be more bearable..."
Atlas turned and looked back.
"Atlas, you have tricked me! You could at least give me a pillow!"
So Atlas, being kind, but not the brightest Titan, went and got a pillow for Hercules. When he brought it, Hercules asked him if he could just hold the heavens for a second, while he got the pillow situated. So Atlas took the heavens, and Hercules, laughing, grabbed the golden apple off the ground and ran off.

"Salam."
"Salam aleikum" the refuge keeper replies as we approach the door. "Take your shoes off."
We put our dusty, stinky boots on a shelf by the door and enter the large refuge. This is the biggest refuge we have seen yet, it sleeps 80 people, and has two dining rooms. The French Alpine Club built and manages the refuge, while local Berber men work there. There were many other climbers at the refuge, all resting and getting ready to climb tomorrow morning. A amiable chatter filled the room with the fireplace as evening set in. Unfortunately, the friendliness, of the keeper at the door did not extend to all the staff. One man in particular was openly hostile to us. I don't know why this was exactly (except that we were not either Moroccan or French), and it was not a common occurrence in Morocco, but the experience certainly discolored our moods as we prepared dinner and settled into our beds that night.

A long time ago, Atlas' wife, Phoebe brought the golden tree that bore golden fruit to their orchard. And Atlas was told a prophecy, that one of the sons of his enemy Zeus would come to steal the golden tree from him. Atlas, understandably, was not very keen on the family of Zeus having his best treasure. So one day, as Atlas was kickin' it high on the ridge with the heavens on his shoulders, Perseus, son of Zeus, arrived. Now, Perseus was not out to steal Atlas' tree, he was just really tired and hungry and in need of a place to stay... after all, he had just fought and beheaded Medusa. Atlas, thinking this was the thief of the oracle, refused him. Perseus was irritable, being tired and hungry, and got really mad at Atlas. He grabbed Medusa's head from his bag, and averting his eyes, he held it up to Atlas. When Atlas looked at it, he turned into stone... the stone that is Mt Atlas. And upon the shoulders of this mountain, all the stars and the heavens are held.

With so many people at the refuge, and heading out tomorrow to climb, we decide that we will get up extra early (3:30 am) to assure a pleasant climb with no other people around. We quietly prepare breakfast, and slip out before anyone else is up. Under the stars, we follow the route across the small river, and up the steep narrow valley directly east of the refuge. The icy wind is blowing (!), and the gusts make us stumble as we climb. Soon, we are walking up firm snow fields, and the sun rises as we crest the first moraine and see the summit in front of us. The wind up here is even worse! My fingers are painfully numb with the cold, and we bundle up with everything we have as we reach the top of the second moraine. Here, while trying to maintain balance as the wind gusts, we have the choice to either follow the normal route up the south ridge, or skirt around the large bowl under the summit and climb the north ridge. It is funny because the staff in the refuge last night insisted that there is only one possible route up to the summit, only one! And we can see two easy ones just up this side... there must be hundreds of ways to summit this non-technical peak.

We stash our crampons at the top of the snowfield, and begin the loose talus and gravel slog up to the ridge top. From the top of the ridge, we see the first of the other climbers coming up over the last moraine below us. We walk along the ridge top to the summit (4165 m), amazed by the beautiful views. To the east and west, more jagged peaks (the high Atlas mountains), to the north, faint mountaintops in Spain, to the south, the Sahara desert. We get to enjoy the summit in solitude, warming in the morning sun, as the brutal wind has died down. After a while, the onslaught of climbers begins. There must be 15 people on the summit when we leave, and we pass maybe 20 more climbing up as we descend. We decide to walk the south ridge down, to make a loop of it. The decent is fast because most of the snow fields have softened up, and we can have fun with sitting glissades.

Back at the refuge, we pack up our stuff and have some lunch. Then we begin the dusty walk down. As a man with horses passes us, Rod asks him if his animals can carry our packs. Relieved of our burdens, we walk more happily down, stopping for tea, and playing word and number games as we walk. In the village, our taxi driver is waiting for us, turns out, he came 2 hours early. We have one more cup of sweet mint tea and begin the drive back to Marrakesh. As we pass through the agricultural valley at the foot of the mountain, nice old Atlas gives us one last gift... in his orchard, we see a flock of nesting storks!

Mt Ausangate

2007-05-01T10:06:00.000-07:00

Apu Ausangate: 5/1-7/2007

The best part about climbing this tall (6372 m, 20,905 ft) and revered Quechua Apu was sitting around the table in the kitchen tent after dinner and listening to our porters, two local men from the nearby village (Daniel and Adrian), tell stories of their sacred peak. The stories were told in Quechua, then translated into Spanish, then translated again into English... so, my re-tellings give the general idea, but have to be taken with a grain of salt. And, of course, Adrian said that when his grandpa tells the stories, they are much better.

This great, respected, and powerful Apu (god/mountain/person) is known by the locals as Hawan Qatteq. The Spanish took this name and changed it to Ausangate. The legends of this mountain hold it as a powerful protector of the Inca, now Quechua, people.

The Spanish were invading the Inca land and storming the city of Cusco. The Spanish were very powerful with their guns and cannons, the people only had clubs and waraka (ropes that you spin to throw rocks). So the people had to flee for their lives. They fled to Apu Hawan Qatteq, but the Spanish followed. The people hid behind the lake Yana Cocha, behind the 'gate' into the apu, Afuera. The Spanish got to the gate, but unable to go further, they camped there. The people kept coming to Apu, fleeing the Spanish from all over. It was hard for so many people to hide from the Spanish, so they began to fight with them. The Spanish had guns, so many people started to die. They asked Apu for help. Suddenly, a very big man appeared on the summit. He had on a red poncho, and sat on a big white horse. He started charging down from the summit and toward the gate, and down with him came all the thunder and lightning. The thunder and lightning hit the Spanish and killed them all. The people were safe.

Ausangate is hollow in the center and there is water and a jungle and corn and quinoa and the spirit animals- puma, condor, and others - living in there. When the Spanish came, the people fled to Ausangate. They took all their riches, gold, corn, llamas, coca and put it all into the mountain. It is still there. The mountain is full of gold. There is only one way/gate in, and only one way/gate out.

The Spanish were invading the land of the people of the Andes (interestingly, they don't call themselves the Inca or the Quechua, they are the people of the Andes). The spirit llamas decided to help. The llamas had colorful strings on their ears and around their necks. They tricked the Spanish into thinking they were people, and their friends. The Spanish looked at them and thought they were their friends. So they followed the llamas. The llamas led them to the gate of Ausangate. Again the large man with the red poncho on the white horse appeared. He rushed down from the summit toward the gate. Thunder and lighting came crashing onto the Spanish and killed them all. The Spanish were never able to pass the gate into Ausangate, and all the people who hid behind the great Apu were safe.

When the Apu distroyed the Spanish at the lake/gate (in) of Ausangate, all the guns were left on the ground. The people threw all the guns into the very center of the lake. They are still there. But if you go into the lake to get them... you can go in, but you cannot come out.

A few days before the stories at the dinner table, we hiked up to the lake, and past it; through the gate, and into the domain of Apu Hawan Qatteq. From there it was a two day hike, over passes lined with huge bright glaciers and steep rocky ridges. I could feel the magic and power of this protected place as we made our way around it to the South side.

We made a base camp under the mountain's south face in a wide meadow. While setting up camp, a condor flew over us. Adrian was very excited about this... it was a good sign. At base camp, the horses with us grazed happily, and periodically (usually around meal time) kids, would pass by with their flocks of sheep and stare at the strange foreigners and ask for bread. Rod and I rested the next day, while the porters carried some of the gear up to the High Glacier Camp (5770 m, 18,925 ft). The following day we hiked up the long moraine ridge as far as possible, until hitting the snow. Then a long slog up snow to the base of 'the wall', a 100 m steep ice/snow section that we will begin our climb with tomorrow. We pitched our tent in the High Camp on a narrow knoll framed by two deep crevasses. It was very cold. We ate an early dinner, set our alarms to wake us at midnight, and drifted into sleep.

BEEEEP!! BEEEEP!! Up. Cold. Breakfast. Cold. Crampons on. Cold. Headlamp and helmet. Cold. Tie into the ropes. Cold. Start walking. The morning started with cold (in case i didn't mention that) and then, the climb up 'the wall'. This was a calf tiring way to start the day; ~60 degree climb front pointing with two ice tools. But once we reached the top, the route to the summit was technically much easier. We switched from our crampons to snow shoes and slowly made our way up the soft snow, dodging crevasses, toward the summit. Surprisingly, the altitude had little affect on us, we felt strong and solid trudging up. As we got closer to the summit, the snow conditions started to deteriorate. Every year, the summit of Ausangate changes shape. The wind shifts the snow around, and the ice forms new blocks and features. No one knows what it will look like up there until you get there and see it. Standing at ~6350 m, 20,728 ft, about 60 m from the summit, the final ridge to the summit point was a very sketchy, unprotectable, totally exposed, windy walk of death. We decided not to walk the ridge of death, and call where we were the summit. Yes!! Apu Ausangate!! Standing there, i searched the ground for horse footprints, or maybe a red thread or two.

The Apu was very gentile with us, we felt strong, no accidents, no altitude sickness or even headaches, just a beautiful climb up a beautiful mountain. In thanks, we made the traditional offering to its spirit; coca, corn, and liquor, and started our decent. And here is the magical part... just down from the summit, Ausangate sent out the spirit animals to visit us. Really! The strangest mists appeared from the summit, and they formed into wispy clouds in the shape of Llama, Snake, Condor, Puma, and Dragon (I don't know what Dragon was all about). Now, usually I don't see shapes in the clouds... even if i try to. Cloud shapes are not precise enough, not exact enough. But the clouds coming off the summit of Ausangate were so sharp and precise that I saw the animals immediately, and without thought. The shapes were active and vibrant; moveing and gesturing as they drifted directly overhead. And it was not just clouds, we could feel that there was something special going on. The air was filled with a sense of welcome, of peace, of love.

This mountain is filled with gold; it has a heart of gold, truely a heart of gold.

Mt Condoriri

2007-04-25T14:06:00.000-07:00

Condoriri: 4/25-26/2007

Condoriri

I danced to that mountain
To present to it my truth, unguarded.
The llamas butted and mounted each other in rut
As I danced
Invincible love to Condoriri, and myself.
Thank you for my lost control, my childish
Tantrum and stubbornness.
Thank you for not allowing me to practice with you, to climb you.
And thank you for making me run away,
For chasing me off with thunder and biting hail
My hands gloveless
Felt each piercing stab as I,
Joyful, was reminded
To Respect.

-------------------------

Skipping stones
Skipping stones
Throwing circles in
The clear clean mirror
Of Condoriri;
Its broad wings soaring
Its head and white breast
Shine under a
Midnight dust of snow
One, two, three
Four
Ripples blur these
Stunning heights

Mt Huayna Potosi, Bolivia

2007-04-21T11:54:00.000-07:00

Huayna Potosi: 4/21-22/2007

The high snow mountains of the Cordillera Real are sacred to the Inca and modern campesinos because they control the weather. They bring water/fertility to the high altiplano, but also destruction: hail storms, floods, lightning storms. The mountains themselves are spirits. They can be moody, and need to be pacified with offerings and treated with respect. Of Huayna Potosi, some say matter of factly, “Occasionally the mountain needs to eat someone.”

Huayna Potosi (6094 m, 19,974 ft), is probably Bolivia’s most frequently climbed glaciated mountain. Almost every one of the kazillion tour agencies in La Paz offers a ‘guided’ climb of this prominent pyramid shaped peak. The name Huayna Potosi means “young riches”. And they certainly treat tourists as a source of Potosi when it comes to climbing the young one.

We climbed an interesting alternative route, one that no one would be on. The Ruta Francesa climbs to a different peak than the normal route, and is dramatic and steep. It scales the south east face up to the South summit, the Pico Sur. That face climb was interesting… up to 60 degrees in pitch, and the snow quality just degraded as we got higher. About 400 feet from the top, we changed tactics and started leading pitches with placed protection instead of simul-climbing. However, when our guide led, he would take off immediately and not place any pro until the anchor… running out ~150 feet of rope in snow conditions where a fall could mean disaster for the whole group. After this we asked to put him on belay at least… hmmmm, interesting!

When we safely made it to the summit, we were surprised to find that the whole summit was a very sharp, knife edge, ridge of snow. It dropped even more steeply on the other side, about 150 feet to a nice wide plateau. Straddling the ridge, we set up another anchor and belayed the climb down to the plateau.

The morning sun was extremely bright and hot for the l o n g walk down (we walked the normal route down). When we finally got back to the refuge, and out of the glare, we had a snack and packed up our stuff for the walk back to the taxis. Stepping outside again, we were startled to find that it was all cloudy, and snowing! How does it go from that much sun to snowing in about 45 min!?

Route description: Follow the marked trail up the rocky south side to the high Refugio. From the Refugio, walk directly onto the glacier and follow the well worn normal route up the ridge. Soon, the normal route crosses over the ridge to climbers right and continues across a broad bowl. Then it turns left over an obvious knoll and onto a wide gently sloping plane with a prominent ridge to the right and the south east face visible directly ahead. When the normal route makes a right turn, over a crevasse, and up the steep slope to gain the ridge on the right, make a left instead and work your way leftward and up through the crevasse field to the base of the south east face. Climb directly up the south east face to the visible peek. Rappel or downclimb the short north west side to a plateau, then move east down to join the normal route for the decent.

A challenging and beautiful climb, on a truly amiable and welcoming mountain.

Mt Ilimani

2007-04-15T09:55:00.000-07:00

Ilimani: 4/15-18/2007

It is 4:00 am, an icy wind blows over the snow, we are above 20,000 feet, laboriously walking with each step breaking through a 3 inch crust. Under that crust is about 2 or 3 feet of sugar (ice crystals with no adhesion). Ahead is steepening up to crevasse wall, but looks like there is a way around it on the right. Breathing heavy, I take a step… I break through and fall back to where I started… I take another step, this one holds… another step. As we get higher, these snow conditions just get worse and worse. This crust is thick enough and strong enough that avalanche isn’t the main concern… the growing concern is protecting a fall on these steeper parts. The thick crust probably would not break through if you fell, you would just slide on top of it. Self arresting with ice axes is out of the question; the knife will just slice through this crust, and there is nothing to grab onto underneath. And the sugar isn’t going to hold pickets either… maybe if we dig down through it to whatever is under that… maybe. At this point our local guide stops and we all gather to confer about the conditions. We discuss the avalanche danger, and we discuss the potential scenarios given someone falling. Grrrrrrr….. a tough decision is made…. Grrrr… we turn around.

Ilimani (6462 m / 21,195 ft) holds a vital place in the lives and history of both the Aymara and Quechua people in Bolivia and Peru. Ilimani is an Apu. An Apu is a God, a person, and a mountain, all at the same time. Ilimani isn’t just any Apu either… it is the great Achachila and Wirajocho, the “King of the High Mountains of the Cordiellera Real” and also “Great God Owner of Water”. Every year, in August, a ceremonial sacrifice of a white llama is made to Apu Ilimani. The blood represents richness, and is given in the hope that Ilimani will provide sufficient water for the year. After the ceremony are lively fiestas, in towns all around the mountain, with music and dances with white banners. Ilimani or Achachila or Wirajocho, what ever name it carries, is revered as the chief of the mountains/Apus, owner of all the forces of nature.

To walk on, or climb Ilimani, it is important to ask its permission, and to make offerings so that you can safely pass. In respect, we made offerings of corn, coca leaves, and pisco (grape liquor) at the base of the mountain. Our offerings were accepted by the Apu, in that we safely slept, climbed, and descended on the mountain, but it did not permit us to make it to the summit.

Two days ago, we drove on the long bumpy dirt road (for 4 hours) to a little pueblo on the west side of the mountain. When we arrived, our muleteers, a family living in the pueblo, got two horses and a burro ready to carry our gear to the base camp. One of the horses was new to carrying gear, the one with my and Rod’s back packs on it, and flipped out on us. In wild panic, the horse started running up the road and around the field. Our packs slipped off its back and were being dragged on the ground until finally the horse fell onto the road and it’s reins grabbed a hold of. To the best of my knowledge, the horse was ok, but my back pack was not. The horse fell onto it and broke the metal frame (It also dented my titanium flask full of coca liqueur… bummer). After packing our gear onto the burro, we set off for the base camp, the animal handlers that came with us, our muleteers, were a 14 year old girl, in skirt and plastic sandals, and her 10 year old younger sister (also in skirt and plastic sandals). They were both very shy, and giggly.

We made base camp in a beautiful open green meadow. Black and white llamas were feeding as we set up our tents. We watched the girls and animals walk back home under a fabulous sunset. The next morning we dried our dew covered tents, sleeping bags, and gear in the sun as we waited for the porters to show up. They are supposed to carry our heavy gear up to a high camp today. Soon we see three women in skirts and an old man (all in plastic sandals) walking across the meadow toward us. It certainly was humbling to watch these women pick up our heavy packs, strap them onto their backs, and with smiles and laughter, set off up the trail... especially when they were going up faster than we were.

Rod sinking to a New Low:
The high camp is on a flat, snow covered spot on the long narrow ridge up the south west face (elevation about 5500 m). Dinner that night gave us an amusing reminder of how low we’ve sunk, eating in Bolivia. Our dinner consisted of a big bowl of instant mashed potatoes with butter, and three boiled hotdogs. To spice it up a bit, we had some ketchup. I am not able to eat my whole portion, and have a half a hotdog sticking out my potatoes. Rod grabs my hotdog, pops it into his mouth in one shot, and exclaims delightedly (and honestly)…”Yumm!!” That is how far it has gone.

That night, at midnight, we woke up, ate a bit, and started our attempt to reach the summit. It was cold and windy, and clear skys made the southern cross and milkyway almost blinding. With not too much further to go (at about 6050 m), we turned around. Back in camp, I was so cold from the decent, that I got into my -20 degree (Fahrenheit) down sleeping bag, and shivered for an hour before falling asleep!! Later in the day, we rapelled down the snow fields to the south of the ridge as far as we could (10 pitches). Anything to minimize the knee destroying walk down the steep rocky trail.

When we made it back to the little pueblo that evening, we set up our tents by the house of the muleteer/porter family. They offered yesterday to kill a lamb for us and have a lamb and potatoes dinner waiting for our return. They set up a blanket on the ground for us to sit on, and laid another blanket, heaped with potatoes and pieces of lamb, on the ground in front of us. They cooked the lamb and potatoes in a rock lined hole in their field, with a fire above it. The potatoes and lamb were very plain, no spices, oil, or salt, yet were simply tasty. We sat on the ground eating with our fingers, sometimes swatting off chickens, dogs, donkeys, cows, or horses, who where interested in getting some scraps. The family was very friendly, and the children (there were many) spent the meal mostly staring at us. When I would smile or say something to one of the kids, they would shyly giggle and run away. One brave little boy started playing with Rod… they were growling at each other and making tiger claws. That same little boy stood outside our tent growling at us as we tried to go to sleep that night… he thought he was really funny.

In the morning, the taxi came to take us back to La Paz. Waving goodbye to the family, we thought our adventure was at an end… little did we know. About 20 min into the bumpy drive, the driver stopped the car and popped the hood. What is going on?...the accelerator cable had broken. So all the men hunched over the engine, pulling wires, and jabbering excitedly. Soon a nylon rope appeared, some wire, and a pair of pliers. They rigged the wire to the accelerator, and the rope through the passenger window. The guide sat in the passenger seat pulling on the rope to press the gas. The driver worked the clutch, steered, and directed the gas pulling… true team driving! And this went on for 4 hours on steep, narrow, 1000 foot drop exposed, dirt roads! When we finally made it back to La Paz, everyone was a little frazzled and tired, but all generally pleased about the grand adventure with the great Apu Ilimani.

Mt Chicon

2007-04-10T15:52:00.000-07:00

Chicon: 4/10-12/2007

Because of rainy weather and several staggared illnesses, we have not climbed anthing big yet in Bolivia or Peru. We have done some trecking and a bit of rock climbing, but any aclimization we had from the big peaks in Ecuador is gone (although we have been hanging out at around 12,000 feet for a month and a half). So before we go to climb Ilimani, we are going to climb Chicon (5530 m, 18,143 ft) as a warm up. Chicon is a glaciated mountain on the North side of the Sacred Valley of the Incas, outside of Cuzco. This mountain is not often climbed, so we got a local guy, Daniel, to join us and show us the way.

Overall this climb is not technical. The approach however, the climb up the valley, is difficult to find, and a brutal bush-whack. We would not have found it without a local guide. Trudging through the snowy, slippery bunch grasses, avoiding tarantulas on the rocks, and navigating the waterfall covered cliff faces, was tiring and demanding. Once above tree-line, the climb was beautiful and relatively simple. A great acclimation trip. Great views.

Route description:
We get a taxi from Urubamba, up the Chicon valley, to the end of the road. After walking a short way up the valley we scale a narrow ridge on the South side, then traverse and climb steep grasslands to a small col partway up the mountainside. We stop here for some lunch. From here we can see a large talus moraine up along the right side of the cliff-lined valley, leading to a col at the head of the valley. We traverse in the grasslands below the moraine, and head to the col. There are camping spots on the col, but no reliable source of water. We fill up along the way.

From the camp (at about 2:00 am), we continue to head up, staying slightly right, and moving over various morains (2 hrs). When you get to the top of the valley, where there are some creeks from the glaciers, and good views of the glaciers, you see two main peaks. The summit of Chicon is not the prominant peak on the right, it is the one on the left, or in the center of the glaciers... there is a valley with a glacier between the two peaks. Head to the base of the glacier to the left of the Chicon summit. This is a 35 degree, broad rise that becomes less steep, and even wider, above. We head strait up, and then right to cross the glacier field (2.5hr). At the top of the field, move right again to climb up the ridge (the climb may be behind a cornice) to the rocky summit (1 hr).

Sacred Valley of the Inca

2007-04-06T15:50:00.000-07:00

... coming soon ...

Machu Picchu

2007-04-05T10:37:00.000-07:00

Machu Picchu: 4/5/2007

Machu Picchu and Huayna Picchu... what is there to say...?!!
Awe-inspiring, Mesmerizing, Rocky, Steep Steps, Jungle Smelling, Powerful, Mysterious, Light-filled, Remarkable, Suprising, Evocative?
None of these do it justice.
Enjoy the photos!!

crazy cool rock work

the terraces used for farming corn, beans, quinua, etc...

Rod navigating the steep steps

Shelly walking up the stone terrace steps

Seriously steep steps!

Hitching Post of the Sun

We got the first bus up to the ruins, to see dawn over the space

amazing shapes and rock work

View of Machu Picchu from the side of Huayna Picchu

Misty dawn over the ruins

There are more photos in the Machu Picchu set. Go to our photos with the link at the top right.

Tiwanaku

2007-03-28T15:38:00.000-07:00

Tiwanaku: 3/28/2007

On the road between La Paz and the Peru border are the excellent ruins of Tiwanaku. This major city and religious center was built by Tiahuanaco people between 700 and 900 AD. The amazing stone work and basic religious ideas are thought to form the basis of the Inca culture that flourished later.

The ruins are about half excavated, and archeological work is taking place as visitors tour the unearthed sections. As we walked through this space, feelings of peace and power were clear. However, our tour was punctuated by the crude and comedic efforts at protecting the important pieces. Harsh barbed wire surrounded many of the sculptures, and we were yelled at periodically by the archeologists for taking pictures of them, and I don’t know what else… being there I suppose.

Regardless, the place is amazing!

For more information about Tiwanaku, check out the link: http://www.archaeology.org/interactive/tiwanaku/history.html

Lake Titicaca

2007-03-22T14:50:00.000-07:00

Lake Titicaca: 3/22-28/2007

The old Aymara man pulled again to start the outboard. Then again. And again. We are slowly drifting away from the small dock of the Isla de la Luna, Lake Titicaca, Bolivia. The wind is picking up, and if this motor doesn’t start soon, we are going to be out in the middle of this sea-size lake in no time.

We hired a boat to take us from a little town on the north end of the Isla del Sol to the ruins of an Inca priestess monastery on the island of the moon. We have just spent two days on the island of the sun, and visiting the sacred island of the moon before returning to Copacabana, on the mainland, balances our experience here. What an incredible trip and trek! This beautiful lake, with its islands, sheep, and little boats docked in small blue harbors, feels much more like the Mediterranean sea than a freshwater lake at 12,000+ feet.

Titi Khar’ka means ‘Rock of the Puma’, this massive lake is named after the sacred rock…Titicaca. Legend has it that the entire lake originated by, or was filled by, three sacred springs called Fuente del Inca. The early Tiahuanaco culture, then the Kollas people (also called Aymara, who are still here today), and the Inca, thought the lake sacred, as the birthplace of the Sun and Moon. The Sun-god and Moon-goddess were both born out of the Rock of the Puma. Then the Sun-god rose into the sky from the Isla del Sol, and the Moon-goddess rose into the sky from the Isla de la Luna. The ancient town on the mainland, Kota Kahuana, Copacahuana, or most currently Copacabana, has been a resting site for pilgrims visiting the huaca (shrine) at Titi Khar’ka (Rock of the Puma) for thousands of years. The shrine, the sacred rock, and the springs are all on the Isla del Sol, or Island of the Sun. From the time of pre-Incan Tiahuanaco culture, through the Incan Empire, for the early Spanish colonialists, to the present, people from all over South America and the world have made pilgrimages to the Isla del Sol. This tiny island, with it’s small spring in the South, and its unremarkable looking rock and mesa in the North, might be thought of as the western hemisphere’s Mecca. It has the most, and longest, history of spiritual pilgrimage. The early Spaniards believed that the springs were a fountain of youth. Still, current pilgrims to the spring drink a cup of water from each of the fountains, or pour it over their heads for its healing properties. The ceremonial table huaca at the Rock of the Puma was used for sacrifices and rituals with the four directions. Pilgrims walk the length of the island, from the springs to the rock, to make their offerings and meditations at the birthplace of their culture.

A few days ago, we approached the town of Copacabana from the east. At the Tiquina Straits, we hired a barge to ferry our car across, then continued into town, arriving after dark. When we looked out the hotel window in the morning, we caught our first view of the crystalline blue, sparkling mystical waters of this beautiful beautiful lake. We spent the morning preparing for our pilgrimage to the Isla del Sol and Isla de la Luna, and enjoying a formal parade of school children down the main street to the lake (it was a national holiday). Then we hiked down the road to check out some Inca ruins 45 min away. Rod rested from the walk in the nice chair carved by the Incas for him to sit in. The next day, with full packs, we caught the midday ferry to the Isla del Sol. We were dropped off at the foot of the escalera del Inca.

The spring is at the top of a long Inca stairway that leads from the beach 205 steps (some dispute over this number, but I counted the steps when I walked up the stairs and I got 205) up to the stone fountain built by the Incas. The fountain has three spouts, each supposedly fed by an individual spring. The two outer spouts represent polarity and balance, male and female, the sun and moon. The center spout represents the center of all things, the universal energy. Interestingly when we were there, there was no water running from the outer left fountain, the female fountain, or the balance to the male energy in the world.

The next morning we began our walk to the Rock of the Puma on the north end of the island. We strayed from the Inca road periodically in order climb to the summit of each of the islands’ small peaks. Finally we reached the sacred rock and the ceremonial table to it’s south. Next to the table is a mesmerizing ruin called ‘the labyrinth’. It is a maze of rooms and courtyards with a natural spring inside and running through it. It is said that this was an Inca monastery and seminary. We bivied/camped just down hill from the labyrinth, above a shining blue bay. As we enjoyed a mac’n’cheese dinner and watched the sun set over the bay, birds dove for fish and not a boat or light could be seen. We were struck by the silence and simple peace of this old place. Falling asleep, I enjoyed a spectacularly starry sky, and got a little creeped-out imagining Inca priest ghosts walking out of the ruins.

In the morning we rose early to sit in each of the direction-chairs at the ceremonial mesa, then watch the sun rise over the Rock of the Puma and the mesa. It was magical. Some sheep joined us just after sunrise. We packed up and walked an hour into town for breakfast. After eating and getting a couple sandwiches for lunch, we boated out to Isla de la Luna.

The Isla de la Luna is much less visited than the Isla del Sol. The small community on the island jumped when they heard a boat coming. They assaulted us with souvenir buying opportunities from the moment we docked to when we walked out of the town toward the ruins. The birthplace of the Moon has an odd polarization… it is better preserved and protected than other ruins, but it had an odd feeling of disregard and unappreciation, especially compared with the birthplace of the Sun. This monastery was inhabited by priestesses on the island of the goddess Moon – this is THE we-moon site. Is it appropriate social commentary that the female balance to the male is so off kilter? The critical balance of the sacred male and female of the “old” or native world is not mirrored in today’s dominant societies. Is this inequality at the base of the disturbance in today’s culture? It is certainly manifest in the western hemisphere’s Mecca.

With these thoughts spinning around in our minds, we stepped off the island back into the boat and pushed off…. floating out into the blue clarity as the kind old driver pulls again to start the motor.

Mt Illampu

2007-03-21T14:45:00.000-07:00

Mt Illampu: 3/21,22/2007

... coming soon ...

Quimsa Cruz

2007-03-17T14:44:00.000-07:00

Quimsa Cruz: 3/17-19/2007

... coming soon ...

Mt Sajama

2007-03-13T14:43:00.000-07:00

Sajama: 3/13-15/2007

Still in the rainy season (climbing snowy mountains highly improbable), we drove west to the Sajama National Park on the border of Bolivia and Chile. Sajama mountain is the tallest peak in Bolivia and stands alone, majestically towering over the high, severe altiplano. Climbing Sajama is closed until April. As we entered the park, we saw a large flock of pink flamingos wading and napping in a shallow lake. The wild life in the national park is protected, unlike most of Bolivia... maybe we will get to see some cool animals here?! Pink flamingos at 14,000 feet is a good start.

We drove into the town of Sajama, the central point of civilization in the park. We asked for directions to the geysers; the park is full of points of volcanic activity. We set off, excited to see some boiling mud pits and shooting geysers. The directions were wrong. We drove well out of town and well past the road to the geysers. Instead, we drove to the parking area for hot springs in the area. As we grabbed out bathing suits and got ready for the walk to the springs, the skys darkened and it started to hail. Not thinking too much of it, we also grabbed out ponchos and set off walking toward, what we thought, was the general direction of the hot springs.

We followed an obvious path to a river and could not see a way across, let alone a continuing path on the other side. We walked up the river and eventually found a way to jump across. We could see a steaming little creak burrowed deep into the grassy plain and when we felt its water, it was warm. Think this must lead to the hotspring, we followed the creak. Soon we encountered branching creaks in all directions and all steaming hot water. The hail was pounding down onto us, and covering the misty ground in a plaster of white pellets. Each time we saw a big vapor cloud, we thought it must be the pool. But when we got there, it was just a shallow, narrow ditch with hot water flowing through. This can’t be it? Maybe you could lay down in it and get mostly wet… where is a pool?!

Off in the distance to out left was a building. We decided to walk toward it in hopes of asking someone where to go. At the building was a large, wide pool! The spring! In a roofless room, with hail pounding down on us, we shiveringly changed into out bathing suits while using our ponchos to deflect the stinging onslaught from the sky. Despite the numbing barefoot walk to the pool, we slipped into the hot water and felt as warm and relaxed as marmots snuggling up in their winter den. The hail eventually stopped and we walked back, wet, warm, and comfortable.

We spent the night in the town of Sajama, and woke in the morning to an amazing clear-sky view of Sajama and the other mighty volcanoes to the west. This time we got good directions to the geysers, and drove up the valley between Mt. Pomerape and the smaller mountain to its north, in search. They were beautiful, but not the spouting rockets we had been lead to believe. Unfortunately, no bubbling mud pits, but happily many Technicolor bubbling water pits! After inhaling sulfur fumes for a while, we continued up the valley toward the nice looking smaller mountain to Pomerapes’ north. On the way, we spotted an Andean Fox sneaking its way through the grasses. Cool!!

At the end of the valley, we hiked up to a waterfall for lunch, then continued to a sheppard’s hut next to a small Inca ruins. We decided to climb the small snowy peak watching over this little ruins and valley. We walked back to the car to get out stuff and make camp. When we got there, the afternoon hail began again. We sat in the car for 3 hours waiting out the storm. Listening to homer’s The Iliad on the ipod, we snacked and watched the pounding hail and rain hit the windows. During a short break in the storm, we ran out an pitched our tent; then at another break we cooked and ate dinner.

We set our alarms for an early start on the mountain, and went to sleep. Next we knew, it was getting light outside… what time is it? Oh no! We slep through our alarms… it is too late to start this climb! We felt foolish and frustrated. Watched over by a keen eyed sage condor, we took a short hike to a cave then drove out toward the town. On the way, we came across an ostrich (!) crossing the road… why did the ostrich cross the road?

Because I found blood in my poop that morning, we decided to leave the park and head back to La Paz to find a doctor. (Don’t worry, it turned out not to be a big deal… just a result of the antibiotics I took to deal with the awful bug I got in La Paz)

Curahuara de Carangas

2007-03-11T14:43:00.000-07:00

Curahuara de Carangas: 3/2-3,12-13/2007

After the nasty, barf’y, diarrhea’y spell in La Paz, we headed out in our rented 4-runner to do some rock climbing at Curahuara de Carangas. The drive there is through a beautiful, Utah-ish landscape. We asked the commander at the military base in the nearby town where the rock climbing is. As it turns out the military have a mountaineer division, and they train here (how to climb, rope work, etc). When we get to the climbing area, we found it bustling with camo-clad soldiers getting ready for a graduation ceremony, that will take place tomorrow, under the climbing area. A little uneasy about our climbing prospects, we pitch camp and enjoy watching a thunder and lightning show approach us as we ate dinner. The storm gets a little too close for comfort… we moved the car further away from the tent.

The next morning we woke up to a military marching band playing about 100 m from our camp. They were loudly processing up to their graduation ceremony area, and playing for the civilians that were in attendance. After breakfast, we walked to the base of the climbs, watched the military demonstrations for a while, and decided that we didn’t want to be climbing right in the middle of it all. Our luck… this ceremony happens once a year and we chose this exact date to climb here!! We went off to an area to the side and set up ropes to practice crevasse rescue and glacier travel skills. We stayed until the afternoon, then decided to come back to climb another day.

When we came back to Curahuara de Carangas (after finding Tunupa), we had a much better (and quieter) climbing experience. This little cliff band is beautiful, and the surrounding area is filled with amazing rock features and wildlife. During dusk and dawn the quiet peace is consistently broken by the loud squawks of the three nesting Condors in the cliff band. And, as we walked along the top of the cliffs in the afternoon, we were surprised to find that we were being studied for a while by a wise silent owl.

The climbing here is excellent, and we got a good morning in before the skies darkened and we were barraged by hail. We thought we would stick it out, that it would be a short inconvenience… we ate some lunch, opened a beer… it didn’t stop. We pulled our gear and took a hike in the rain/hail for the afternoon. We left the next morning.

Finding Mt Tunupa

2007-03-04T14:42:00.000-08:00

... coming soon ...

La Paz

2007-02-26T14:42:00.000-08:00

... coming soon ...

Mt Cayambe

2007-02-24T14:41:00.000-08:00

Mt Cayambe: 2/23-25/2007

Located exactly on the equator, Cayambe is place of paradox and wonder. It is the highest spot on the equator in the world. It is so strange to see such superb glaciers at a place conventionally thought tropical. This is an icy, harsh, strong, and beautiful mountain... no tropical paradise!
... although, it is a tropical paradise ...

Of all the mountains in Ecuador we have visited, to me, Cayambe is the most beautiful and magnificent. On it's north side the area is a designated an Ecological Reserve. The one road through the area winds up through high tropical forest, then into grasslands scattered with odd funky jungle plants, then stops at a view of these equatorial glaciers. We drove up to the end of the road, to some antennae on a hill, then walked further up the valley to view the north face climbing route (this photo is a view of the north face).

We decided not to climb the north route, and go tomorrow to climb the more popular southern route. But, this north side is so special, the place is awe inspiring, and the route looks really exciting. This is one of the spots we are visiting on this trip that I most certainly want to come back to and spend more time. I don't think Cayambe should be an Ecological Reserve. I think the Ecuador government is making a big mistake not making this a National Park.

The next day we drove up the rough rocky road to the refuge at the base of the south face. The wind was blowing hard and cold as we unloaded our gear from the car and set up our beds in the refuge. After a warm snack, we walked up the rocky first section of the route to the head of the glacier. It was blowing so hard it knocked me over once, and the spits of rain covered the rocks with a slippery layer of clear ice.

Back at the refuge, we ate some dinner, talked to another group of climbers there about the route and climbing strategies, then got into bed before sunset. At midnight the whole refuge was up and nosily getting ready to climb... sorting gear, eating breakfast, filling water bottles with hot water. We could hear the wind howling and gusting outside. When we went out, it was much worse than we thought. At the refuge (i.e low elevation) the wind was gusting to 60 mph, and sending missiles of frozen rain into our faces. What was happening up high?

After standing outside for about 15 minutes, discussing, evaluating, arguing, freezing, we decided not to climb. The weather was just too bad. Part of the other climbing group decided to go for it. We got back into our sleeping bags feeling a little embarrassed, a little inadequate, a little pathetic, and wondering if the bad weather would let up, and if the other group would be at the summit after a great climb while we sat eating breakfast down in the refuge.

At about 3:00 am, we were awoken by the loud boots and voices of the other group returning to the refuge. They said that the climb was horrendous. They made it to the head of the glacier, but the wind was so strong, it was blowing people over, and on slick exposed ice, that is not a situation to be in. And it was just getting worse. On the walk back to the refuge the icy rocky trail was so dangerous with the wind, they had to set up rappels. Needless to say, we guiltily felt great that we had made the right decision not to climb.

Quilotoa Loop

2007-02-20T14:39:00.000-08:00

... coming soon...

Mt Chimborazo

2007-02-19T11:33:00.000-08:00

Chimborazo: 2/16,17,18/2007

Chimborazo was in love with Tungurahua, the slender, tall, fiery, and explosive volcano to the east. But some other mountains were courting her too. Mt. Altar and Mt. Carihuairazo each also wanted Tungurahua as his wife. They all thought she was Hot! Chimborazo is a very big guy. He decided to bash the heads in of his rivals. He beat up Altar, so now Altar’s summit is a massive blown out crater ringed by a number of jagged, rocky pinnacles. He beat up Carihuairazo. His summit is now just a thin pointy block of rock. After taking care of her other suitors, he and Tungurahua got married.

Chimborazo is indeed a MASSIVE mountain. 6270 m, or 20,670 feet tall, for many years it was thought to be the tallest mountain on Earth. It turns out that the summit of Chimborazo is the point on earth closest to the Sun. How can this be? What about the Himalayas? Chimborazo’s latitude is very close to the equator, and remember that Earth has an equatorial bulge. If you measure altitude from sea level, the mountain is 6270 m, but if you measure the altitude as distance from the center of Earth, it is the tallest mountain in the world; closest to the sun. And for the Quechua people, the descendents of the children of the Sun, this is a very sacred place.

We hired a local guide for our Chimborazo attempt. The logistics of getting to the mountain refuge and route finding were made a lot easier having someone who knows the terrain with us. We all squeezed into the truck in Los Banos and drove 3 hours up to the Carrel Refugio (4850 m) on the SW face. Because it is a dry year, and the glaciers are receding rapidly. The approach from the Whimper Refugio, climbing the Normal Route, had too much rock fall and bad ice. We decided on a route that followed a ridge to the east of the Normal Route, up to the Castillo (a prominent rock and landmark), then continued on the ridge to gain the glacier, then followed the normal route from there. And we decided to do it in two parts, using a high camp at the Castillo. We thought this would be better for successful acclimatization.

After arriving at the Carrel Refugio and deciding on our plan, we packed up our high camp gear and trekked up to the ridge that leads to the Castillo. It was starting to snow and get icy, so we left our stuff there under a tarp and headed back to the Refugio. There was no need to get up early in the morning, so we spent the evening having a leisurely dinner and playing cards. The next day was Rod’s birthday! In the morning we had a candle in his breakfast and sang happy birthday. Then we packed up our sleeping bags and few other things, and headed up to make high camp. We picked up our bags we left the day before, and continued up the ridge. Soon, we had to head climber’s right and traverse under the rock formations on the ridge. This was a hard, slippery, steep, loose, long, tedious, hell-walk! But we finally made it past the cliffs and back onto the ridge, right at the Castillo. We set up camp on top of the Castillo, and had a beautiful warm sunny afternoon looking over the clouds. A nice birthday for Rod. We ate dinner early, and went to sleep at 6:00… wake up time, 11:30pm.

We got up on time, ate some breakfast, packed our climbing packs and started up. The crux of the climb is right at the beginning. To gain the glacier, we had to cross some very exposed rock covered ice, then climb a steep pitch of normal ice. The rock covered ice was really tricky because it looked just like loose gravel, but it was gravel frozen on top of, or cemented by, ice that was not visible. It was very hard, and difficult to protect. We climbed it on belay with ice axes and crampons. Then to the steep pitch of ice… we climbed this setting ice screws and a belay anchor at the top. Now that we are up onto the glacier, the rest is just one long, long, long, seemingly endless slog to the top. We walked, and walked. And all of a sudden, the ground started to level, and we were walking around on the Veintimilla summit! WhooHooo! Standing on the closest point to the sun, the summit of Chimborazo!

Chimborazo has several different summits that are approached from different routes. But at the top, it is all pretty much level, the summits are only one or tow hundred feet or so different in height. The highest summit is about 1 km east of the Veintimilla summit across the summit plateau (1/2 hr walk in good conditions). Because it has been a dry year in Ecuador, the summit plateau was riddled with crevasses and seracs instead of being all smooth and covered with snow. We searched for a way to cross the icy jumble to gain the main summit, but it was just a mess up there. So we hung out on the Veintimilla summit and watched the sun rise over a cloud sea with the peaks of the other big volcanoes poking through… Cotopaxi, Sangay, Carihuairazo, Altar, Illinizas, Antisana… beautifully!

We thanked the mountain for practicing with us, and his lessons, and headed down. The long, long, long, seemingly endless way down. Maybe one of the lessons of Chimborazo was “It never ends. Everything just goes on and on.” On the drive back to Los Banos we stopped in a filthy little restaurant/stand for ‘fritata’. A super yummy side of the road meal, where they hang a whole gutted and skinned pig on a hook, and when you order they cut off some meat and fry it in who knows what, and serve it with hominy (big white corn kernels). Yum. Then to top the trip off, when we got back to Los Banos, we were pleasantly surprised to find out that the town was in the middle of its annual Carnival! Fiesta!

Mt Tunguruhua

2007-02-18T09:21:00.000-08:00

Banos/Tungurahua; 2/13,14,15&19,20/2007

After coming down from Illiniza Sur, we headed south to the tourist town of Los Banos. Yes, really the name of the town is Los Banos. It’s called that because it has several natural mineral springs, both cold and hot, in town and in the general area. Los Banos sits halfway up the side of the massive and very active, Volcan Tungurahua. In 1999, Tungurahua blew its top big time. It sent a huge mud/ash slide down to the side of Los Banos that burned and covered (still covers) everything in its way (houses, forest, the road, etc). It sent molten pumice and ash into the sky that was carried to other near by peaks covering their glaciers with dust and gravel. The town of Los Banos was evacuated for months, but now, despite the occasional mild eruption, bustles with activity and tourism. Our original intention was to climb Tungurahua, but because of the eruptions, we would need gas masks and fire-retarding clothing, so that idea is out. Instead, we spent a few days relaxing, hot-springing, and prepping for an attempt at mount Chimborazo.

Chimborazo and Tungurahua are integrally linked in the legends. Chimborazo was in love with Tungurahua (she’s hot!), but some other mountains were courting her too. Mt. Altar and Mt. Carihuairazo each also wanted Tungurahua as his wife. It seems Chimborazo was a big brute because he went and beat up his rivals, he really thrashed them. Then he and Tungurahua got married. Tungurahua is known to the Quichua people as Mama Tungurahua, or Mother Tungurahua, and is a very sacred site.

From the 16th to the 18th we left Los Banos to climb Chimborazo (see the Chimborazo blog entry), then returned to Los Banos just in time for the last two days of the Los Banos Carnival! This is the whole regions big blow out party before lent starts. The town was flooded with folks from all the surrounding area, even Quito, and every hotel room in the town was booked. The streets had live music, outdoor cafes and booths selling all sorts of tasty specialties and treats, booths selling goods ranging from alpaca sweaters to oil paintings to the newest non-stick cookware. It was crowded, loud, at times out of control, and fun! The most common ruckus was the way too popular activity of spraying each other with cans of shaving cream. At times a cloud of shaving cream mist made it hard to see more than 10 feet, or shaving cream landed in your beer while sitting at an outdoor café, or you just got half your body covered with pink foam as you walked along.

The best part of the Carnival was on the last night. There was a fun band with a big brass section playing in the big square in front of the church. Lots of people were dancing and hanging out. Then, some fireworks started going off from the roof of the church. These also included some really cool colorful hot air balloons in the shape of stars or spheres that they would send up by setting a small fire in the basket at the bottom. We would watch them slowly float up into the stars and disappear. This all was great, until the real fireworks started. There was a small platform in the middle of the square (a square that was crowded with people) that was about 5 feet above the rest of the square. They set up a fireworks launch right there! These were not the kind of fireworks you set off on the 4th of July; they are the kind Disneyland sets off on the 4th of July… the big stuff. They would light up the firework, then run frantically to the other end of the little platform, sometimes reaching a safe distance before the explosion on the ground sent the firework into the air. We were right there, everyone was! The explosion launching the little rockets was almost as big, and certainly as loud, as the firework itself. To watch these guys try to run away from the explosions, have the explosion happen right in front of you, have some of the rockets misfire and send flaming balls onto the rooftops, and get a great fireworks show on top of that made it just about the best fireworks show I’ve ever seen!

I guess when you live on the side of an erupting volcano, some big ‘ol fireworks aren’t a big deal.

Mt Iliniza Sur

2007-02-17T09:20:00.000-08:00

Illiniza Sur: 2/11,12,13/2007

Illiniza Norte and Illiniza Sur make up the peaks known as the Illinizas. A long long time ago, the son of a local leader, and the daughter of a rival leader fell in love. The boys’ father was not happy about this, and he hired a wizard to take care of the situation. The wizard took the girl and using powerful magic, he turned her to stone. He turned her into Illiniza Norte. Now the boy was devastated. He did not know what happened to his love. He abandoned his father and set out looking for her. For years he traveled up and down the paramo, searching and telling people his story. One day he came across a wizard, the same wizard who had turned his love into Illiniza Norte. With much pleading, the wizard finally agreed to give the boy his wish. Using powerful magic, he turned him into Illiniza Sur, so that the two lovers could always be together.

Like the story says, the Illinizas are two mountains that have a real aura of magic about them. Illiniza Norte is gentile and beautiful. Her colors of red, yellow, orange, white, and black constantly changing and emerging with the light. Illiniza Sur is more hidden, and fiercer, but he sparkles and shines amazingly. Illiniza Sur is considered one of the most difficult and technical climbs in Ecuador.

After finally escaping the Quito vortex, we headed south to the little town of Chaupi which sits just under the Illinizas. Chaupi has a nice climber’s hostel, hostal Llovizna, with hot water, several rooms, good food, ping-pong, and a pool table! (even if the cues don’t have felt tips on them). We unloaded our stuff, and got ready for the approach tomorrow morning. Three British climbers soon arrived at the hostel that had just come down from Illiniza Sur. We drank beer and played pool while they told us about the climb. It was great to get such current information about snow and ice conditions and route finding difficulties. That night, we took a walk around the small central square of Chaupi and saw our new friends in a restaurant/bar/pool room. Rod went to get a glass of the local liquor, aguardiente, but he accidentally purchased a whole bottle it, peach flavored (his Spanish has gotten much better since). So, everyone ended up getting a little more shnockerd than planned, including the waiter, who we kept serving shots to each time he came to the table.

Next morning we drove up the rutted out dirt road to the Illiniza trail head, then plodded our way up the long moraine ridge to the refugio nestled just below the col between the two mountains. This refugio was smaller, and dirtier than the one on Cotopaxi, but did have two gas stoves and a gas lantern. The peak of Illiniza sur was covered with clouds as we hiked up to the col between the mountains and did a little route pre-inspection. Illiniza norte was not clouded over, however, and we were awed by the colors of the peak, its ruggedness, and the beautiful green lake at its base. I practiced some yoga and aikido movements in the meadow next to the refuge before dinner, then again to bed early with a wake up time set for 2:15am.

Up and Out and Up. The route finding in the dark for the normal route up Illiniza sur was the most difficult part. We headed up to the col, then up the moraine. We went over the moraine and down into the obvious drainage, then followed that to drop down onto the glacier. We got a bit lost here because we were hesitant to keep following the glacier down. It is quite a ways. We were looking for a ramp up the rock cliff/ridge too early. We found on the return that you can stay up on the moraine (don’t follow the cairns into the drainage between the mountain and the moraine) and follow it’s ridge down to where you can just cross the glacier to the ramp up the rock cliff/ridge. However, if you keep walking down the glacier between the moraine and the rock cliff/ridge, you will get to the ramp up and onto the cliff/ridge, and maybe this is easier travel. Once up the ramp, we moved around the corner and up a short class 4 scramble to gain the ridge. Then it was just a walk strait up to the snowfield. We approached the snow field from high up on the climbers left side because this avoided some ice fields at the base of this glacier. Once on the snow, the route was obvious. It begins with a long steepish (~45-50 degree) pitch that has some crevasses at the top where the slope shallows with thin (almost alarming) snow bridges. Then the route turns slightly climbers right until you reach the crux of the climb, 100m of steep snow/ice above a small crevasse. We climbed this pitch traditionally, setting pro and belaying from an anchor at the top. The belay at the top of it was really cool! It was sitting on a narrow ridge of snow that dropped on the other side into one of the biggest, deepest crevasse I have ever seen. After this, the route moves to the climbers left and up the snowfield toward the large rocky outcrop near the summit. From the base of the rocky outcrop, we could see the summit to the right. What a crazy funky summit! It is just a massive ice block, one with the strangest textures and formations on it. A hulking, bulbous, icicle, sasquatch hiding, chunk of ice sitting on the top of a mountain. Crazy! We followed the ice/snow ridge up and around climbers’ right to the summit (5245 m, 17,308 feet).

Mt Cotopaxi

2007-02-16T08:43:00.000-08:00

Cotopaxi: 2/6,7/2007

Taita Cotopaxi, or father Cotopaxi, is the highest active volcano and most sacred site of the Quichua peoples of Ecuador. A beautiful, almost perfect cone, Cotopaxi is easily identified and visible from most high spots in the northern Ecuadorian paramo. It has erupted many times in the last 200 years, and looks like it could blow at any moment. [5897 m, 19,460 feet]

Luis, our driver from Quito, picked us up early and made a swerving, jerky, gripping drive toward the Cotopaxi National Park. Near the park, he introduced us to a beautiful Hacienda (Hacienda El Porvenir ?) where we were greeted with a delicious local tea with aguardiente (fire water – the local alcohol of choice). We ended up staying for lunch, and scheduled someone from the Hacienda to pick us up the next day, midday, at the Cotopaxi trailhead. Luis then continued the bumpy, white knuckle drive up to the Cotopaxi trailhead. We unloaded the gear and began the slow hike up to the refugio. From there the normal route to the summit begins.

The refugio was much nicer than expected; clean, big, had electricity, lots of bunks, big kitchen. Over the course of the afternoon several other groups of climbers arrived there. We bunked near a friendly group (guy from New Zealand, an English woman, and an American) and shared stories of travels while everyone played with Rod’s blood oxygen meter. After a short hike scouting the trail, we prepared and ate dinner (the refugio even had beer for sale!). Then, at 6:00, we lay down and attempted to get some sleep. The wake up time – alpine style – will be midnight. Sleeping is not so easy at 15,000 feet, and then add in a raucous group of French climbers who apparently had no interest in sleeping when beer was available (of course all the French climbers made it to the summit).

At midnight, everyone in the refugio was up, eating breakfast, and preparing for the climb. All the groups started around the same time, and were close together for the beginning of the climb. Then as time passed the groups spread out more and more. We were the slowest group, carefully bringing up the rear. Our strategy is to go slow and steady, especially at the beginning, so that fatigue and exertion don’t play a role in potential altitude sickness. After gaining the glacier, it was just a long steep slog up and up. The glacier had minimal crevasses, and the snow cover was stable. It was technically easy… just at an altitude higher than we had ever been. On the way up, we passed two groups of climbers that were coming down because of altitude sickness. Both groups had started out at a really fast pace. At dawn, we were at about 5000 m, and were very optimistic about reaching the summit. Our pace had been good, we were feeling energetic still, and now, we could see! The wind at this altitude was very cold, but the rising sun was warming things up slightly. A kind of high altitude-fatigue-ecstasy filled me as the sun started to climb with us; it was an amazing joy filled clarity that is indescribable, yet defiantly unforgettable.

We continued up to the climbs’ difficulty crux, a thick snow bridge over a crevasse and up the short steep snow covered crevasse wall on the other side. It was easy though, because a boot pack was already in place. At the top of this, we were in a small gully that acted like a wind tunnel. The wind was fierce and COLD. Rod started to slow down in the gully, and as we were heading up the pitch that would bring us out of the gully and onto the last push to the summit, Rod felt his energy level plummet; drop in half. One of the first signs of altitude sickness. With the pace cut in half, I was getting too cold in the wind, and ability to reach the summit early enough in the day was in question. At 5300m we gave thanks to the spirit of Cotopaxi for the beautiful climb, and turned around.

Of course, the walk down was horrendous and long. But rewardingly, as we approached the refugio, we saw two Andean wolfs in the rocks (they are very shy and have big bushy tails), and flying over head, a Condor! The Condor is very sacred to the Quichua, the native people who are descendents of the Inca. The Condor is the messenger between the people and gods Pachamama and Pachakamak. Pachamama is the feminine spirit of fertility who regulates the seasons and the entire natural world (earth mother). Pachakamak is the masculine spirit of creation who protects and cares for the universe (sun father).

After we grabbed our stuff at the refugio and made it to the trail head, a driver was ready to take us to the Hacienda. The rooms there are very comfortable and pleasant, and the food was great. Our waiter was a local native man, dressed in poncho and all, who really enjoyed telling us about the animals and plants in the area. Where condor nests were, how the pumas had taken some sheep recently, all his favorite potatoes, and the plants used to make the good teas served with each meal. While we were there, we watched the men fix the grass roofing over one of the barns. They just took handfuls of new grass, lifted up the old grass already on the roof, and pushed the new grass in. They worked across the roof slope and from bottom to top. How they didn’t slide off the roof, I’ll never know. The next day, Luis picked us up and took us back to Quito.

Mt Fuya Fuya

2007-02-15T08:38:00.000-08:00

Fuya Fuya: 2/5/2007
We drove out of Quito on the Pan Americana heading north to the lago _____. Its beautiful blue water fills a crater ringed with rocky peaks that overlook the town of Otavalo. Mt Fuya Fuya is ~14,000 ft and the acclimatization hike will prepare us for climbing Cotopaxi. On the way to Fuya Fuya, as we passed through little towns, the roads were lined with stands selling all sorts of unknowns. We stopped to try some funky tropical fruits that we had not seen before. One fruit is round and almost scaled on the outside. You just tear it into two parts and the center is filled with delicious white flesh, and large round glossy black seeds. Another super tasty fruit looks like a giant bean pod, like a fava bean pod on steroids (2.5 feet long). This one is filled with black bean/seeds surrounded by pink flesh that you suck off the bean. Yummy! I don’t know what the name of either fruit is. On the drive, we also passed the equator, we moved from the southern hemisphere to the northern, and the line was marked on the road. Interestingly, the people of this region north of the equator, unlike other parts of Ecuador, have made an effort to value and market their native culture. They have successfully built a system of community controlled income exporting woven items and other native crafts. This has allowed them to actively preserve their culture while functioning in the broader capitalist system. Most people here dress in the native cloths, and the houses and towns are cleaner and have less abandoned buildings.

The climb up Fuya Fuya was eye opening. This was the first time we walked in the ‘paramo’, the altiplano, the Andean highland grasslands. It was a botany adventure. We passed through a broad slope populated primarily by large bunch grasses, with an occasional Achupalla, Puya clava-herculis (looks like a century plant), or Chuquirahua bush, Chuquiraga jussieui. The Chuquirahua was recommended to me by a local as a medicinal. Make a tea of it and it helps the stomach and intestinal or menstrual cramps. As we climbed toward the summit, the terrain became rocky and the plants diversified. So many beautiful plants that I had never seen, or even imagined. I had to stop and take a photo every two seconds it seemed. It was amazing! After the hike down, we drove back to Quito to pack up our gear for climbing Cotopaxi tomorrow.

Quito Vortex

2007-02-14T09:17:00.000-08:00

Quito is a surprisingly beautiful city. It fills a valley surrounded by steep, tall, green hills. The elevation (9,000 ft) makes the weather very comfortable despite its location basically on the equator. The architecture, decor in restaurants, shops, and hotels, and prolific artwork are impressive. Similarly, the bureaucracy, red tape, and corruption are outstanding.

We arrived in Quito thinking it would take 2-3 days to find and buy a used truck. We would then leave the city and begin a 3.5 month road trip through Equador, Peru, Bolivia, and Chile.

We also had to quickly pick up our mail. We had some gear and supplies shipped to Quito from California. It all seemed so simple... little did we know about the Quito Vortex.

Day 1: After checking into the very nice Hotel Los Alpes, we were given the address where our mail was being kept. When we got there, they said that we will have to pay $450 for customs. (the mail was some used books, a camera and lenz, and some sees suckers). We didn't pay and said we would come back tomorrow.

Day 2: We went looking for cars to buy, found one but the price was not negotiable, so we kept looking. The mail was settled by giving the customs agent $200 (which he pocketed), and just accepting the loss.

Day 3: ...

... to be finished later ...

Volcan Irazu

2007-02-03T09:40:00.000-08:00

Costa Rica (1/25-2/1) and Volcan Irazu - 1/30/2007

Costa Rica
Green canopies, beans and rice, jungle, volcanoes, cloud forest, crocodiles, humid, black sand, big eared cows, coffee, more coffee. Our time in Costa Rica was full of all these things, and was a great resting period before the big peaks of South America.

After a arriving in San Jose, Rod and I set off in very tiny, and very tightly packed, rental car for the beach. The roads in Costa Rica aren´t named or labeled. You just have to hope you see a sign with the next village´s name on it and head that way, or ask people from village to village. Needless to say we got lost.
After hours of diving, and a 1.5 hr wait on a dirt road for some road repair to get finished, Rod and I were hungry, irritable, and still hours from the beach. As proof that miracles do happen, we came around a curve in the road and saw a small sign for a hotel. We drove in and found ourselves greeted by two very friendly American owners (Jill and Bob) who not only had a room available, but said that dinner is just about to be served! Hurray! Turns out, Jill is an herbalist, healer, and great jazz vocalist, and Bob is retired from the music industry. Among the other guests was a old time jazz guitarist from New Orleans, and a superb clarinet player. Feeling better after the meal, Rod and I enjoyed some great live jazz from the sofa! Hurray! With morning yoga on the sundeck, an excellent breakfast, and some directions from Bob, Rod and I headed out again seeking the beach. Yup, I like Costa Rica so far!
(The hotel is AmaTierra Hotel and Retreat http://www.amatierra.com/index.html)

We made it to Jaco, a busy beach town on the Pacific side. Here we spent two days and enjoyed the beach, surfing, and crocodile viewing. On our way back into the central valley we took a short hike through the lush jungle and saw monkeys, lots of birds, crocodiles, and other funky looking lizards. We then headed up in elevation to the town of Cartago, intending to get a early start up Volcan Irazu the next morning.

Volcan Irazu (3402 m, 11,260 ft)-
The name Irazu (or Iztaru) is derived from the Huatare Indian language and means "a thunder", or "the place which trembles". This mountain was a sacred center point for pre-Colombian native peoples, and is today also cloaked in stories of UFO sightings and an alien subterranean facility (The Costa Rican Shasta!). Irazu, is the home of Thunder.
At the summit are three overlapping craters, whose lunar landscape contrasts starkly with the thick foliage of the mountainsides. It is sort of an alien space. The main crater is 300 m deep and 1050 m across, with the oddest olive-green-glow-in-the-dark color lake at the bottom. The volcano is still active, with the last major eruption in 1963. It covered Cartago and San Jose in a thick layer of ash. Today Irazu is in a National Park, and has a road up to the craters and a little cafe near the summit (now that´s mountaineering!).
Because of the daily ritual of a clear morning atop the mountain, then clouds encasing everything around 10:00 am, we started out early. The slopes of Irazu are very fertile, and the road up passes through fields of coffee, potato, chayote (a vegetable), onions, and cow pasture. While passing through the little farming villages you might get stopped to allow some cows to cross, or see a man walking a horse loaded with fresh milk jugs. The crisp clear morning sunshine made the place magical.
When we got to the National Park entrance at 7:20, of course the gate was locked (opens at 8:00). We thought we would just walk around the gate and up to the summit, but there was no way through the barbed wire and trenches that surrounded the gate! They are serious about getting their National Park fee. At 8, we drove up to the end of the road and walked to the summit. It is said that on a clear day, the top of Irazu is the only place in the world where you can see the Pacific and Atlantic ocean (Caribbean sea) at the same time. We could see the Pacific, but the area below us to the east was covered with clouds. We made an offering to Thunder on the summit, then walked into the craters. We had great sunny views, but could see the clouds rising up the southeast side of the mountain and spilling into the craters as we stood there. Like clock work, at about 10:00 am, the whole place was in the clouds.

With more than half the day left, Rod and I drove for lunch to the Orosi Valley. The river flowing down the center of the valley is lined on both sides with rows of coffee plants under a thin overstory of trees. Like a tropical coffee Napa! The lush and colorful mountain sides surrounding the valley had terraced banana plantations, and trees with a full canopy of bright orange leaves. We drank some excellent coffee, and then... we drank some more.

In the afternoon, we drove through the cloud forest over the Cerro de la Muerte to a very pleasant little jungle mountain town along the Rio Blanco, and at the foot of Costa Rica´s tallest mountain, Cerro Chirripo (3819 m). The next morning we took a sweaty hike up through the jungle. We didn´t see much wildlife (except big ear cows). And just when we were making jokes about the homicidal psycho jungle tigers stalking us, and other wildlife we were not seeing, I almost stepped on the biggest, blackest, tarantula-est crossing the trail. All the tingles behind the ears! After that we took our romp through the jungle a lot more seriously.

Done with the hike, we hit the local hot spring for a dip before heading back to the beautiful lazy Orosi Vally. The next day, with a serious coffee buzz, it was back to San Jose to fly out the following day. Asta luego! Love ya Costa Rica!

Mt Iztaccihuatl

2007-01-31T10:24:00.000-08:00

Iztaccihuatl
1/22/2007

Two massive volcanoes, Iztaccihuatl (5252 m, 17,332 ft) and Popocatepetl (5286 m, 17,444 ft) watch over central Mexico as a monument to the power of love. The story goes something like this... Izta was the daughter of the chief, and heir to the throne of a tribe/nation. Popo was the son of the chief, and heir to the throne of a rival neighboring tribe. At one point, the two chiefs thought that if their children fell in love, it would be a great opportunity to combine the power of these two tribes and solidify a larger area of rule. The two kids began meeting, and indeed fell in love. Unfortunately, as time passed, the two chiefs started to have disagreements and the idea of combining the tribes was dying. Afraid that he would not be allowed to be with Izta forever, Popo went to Izta's father directly and asked for her hand in marriage. The chief said that Popo could marry Izta if he went to battle for Izta's tribe. Popo, who was a strong warrior, went to the battle, promising Izta that he would soon return and be with her forever. But, the battle took longer than expected, and Popo did not return by the time he said. Izta was sure that he died in the battle, and herself died of grief. When Popo finally returned from the battle to find Izta dead, he took her body and carried it up a tall mountain, where he laid it down. Then, in grief, he climbed the mountain next to it and held a torch up to watch over his beloved, forever. The two became mountains. Iztaccihuatl means 'sleeping woman', and is shaped like the silhouette of a sleeping woman when viewed from the west. Popocatepetl is an active volcano, with a continuous plume of smoke from its crater, the smoke from his torch. And, it is said that Popo will continue to erupt, his torch will continue to burn, as long as young people continue to believe in the goddess of love.

We had intended to climb both these lovers, but at the moment, Popo is erupting too much and climbing is banned. So we focused our attention on Izta. What a beautiful mountain! The colors, the textures!

After a day´s preparation in the pueblito Amecameca (with a beautiful church, a great market, lots of stray dogs, and views of the mountains throughout town), we drove up the steep winding road to the little town/place of La Joya (13,000 ft). La Joya is the Izta trailhead, and basically a parking area, with two shacks serving food and drinks on the weekends. Instead of buying the great local food, we opted to enjoy a scrumptious meal of dehydrated mashed potatoes with salami and tomato gravy while watching a truly beautiful sunset (enhanced by the thick smog layer above the valley below). After dinner, we went down to a bunkhouse/refuge for a short sleep. At 11:30 pm, the alarms went off, and we were up and stumbling around getting breakfast ready and climbing gear together. After burning the plastic regulator cover off our jetboil pot (stinky burning plastic wafting throughout the refuge), and stashing our sleeping stuff, we drove back to La Joya and hit the trail at 12:30 am. A respectable "alpine" start.

The trail started steeply, and our pace excruciatingly slow. The trail is not marked, and route finding was difficult both because it was dark, and because trails and alternative paths lead off everywhere. Once warmed up, we kept a solid pace and enjoyed the city lights views of Mexico City and Puebla. We got side tracked two times, had to backtrack, but found the trail again after a while. When the sun came up, the beautiful views, framed by the amazing verity of rock colors and prominent outcrops of Izta´s slopes, were just breathtaking. Such a pleasure to be with this great mountain.

The power of mine and Rod´s love as climbing partners was tested atop Izta´s Knees. The altitude, the fatigue, and nervousness about the down climb made Rod not want to continue. I on the other hand, was in a state of manic motivation to push for the summit. But that meant leaving Rod alone, with some altitude sickness indications, waiting in the cold wind on Izta´s Knees for a couple of hours. I chose to stay with Rod, and we began the descent. The talus glissade to the cliff band and down climbing the class 4 pitch was fun, but the rest of the walk down was grueling. The sandy/dusty trail is slippery and steep. Thank goodness for trekking poles!!

We eventually made it back to La Joya in good spirits. We were the only group of people on the mountain all day! Back in Amecameca, we got some food and headed strait to the hotel for the longest sleep of my life (to bed at 4:00 pm, awake at 7:30 am the next day)!

Izta will always hold a special place in my heart.

La Artista del Sol (ridge of the sun) route description:
Climb from La Joya on the trail that goes directly up the steep hillside and then traverses left. This traverse is along the west side of the overall mountain ridge line. Get to the first col (primero portillo). This place has a large rock on the climbers right with a plaque on it. After the 1st col, the trail goes to the 2nd col (segundo portillo) on the east side of the ridge line. After the 2nd col, the trail travels back to the west side of the ridge and hugs the big rock face on climbers right. After the 3rd col, the trail again travels the east side. Here, you walk up along sandy traverse paths that come together at a narrow notch in the rocks. Go up through this notch, and the 4th col is in sight. The trails here get confusing, as they go in all directions (there is a big rock in the center of the col, and trails go to the left or right of it). Stay to climbers right of the big rock. Once on the col, walk up along the ridge (do not drop off the other side), and from the top of the hill, a refuge (Grupo de los Cien hut, 4750 m) is in sight. The hut has reflective painting on the side, so can be seen if climbing in the dark. From the refuge, walk strait up the large face in front of you with a cliff band across it. The passage through this cliff band is on the climbers right side. Finding the route through can be tricky (avoid going too far around the right edge of the face you are climbing), there is a large metal cross above the correct route. Follow easy 4th class rock to the metal cross. The trail from here is obvious to the top of the Feet. The metal skeleton remains of a hut are on top of The Feet (16,800 ft). The trail continues up and around minor peaks and moraines. Soon you reach the Stomach/Belly glacier, this was a simple snow field (1-2007), but there are stories of it having significant crevasses to be concerned about. Angle left to the ridge again, and continue on to the crater rim and the second glacier on the route. The broad summit plateau (the Breast) has three points that could be the summit. The route to the rim brings you to one of them, another is straight ahead on the east side, and the third is further and to the west. The true summit lies a little to the west of the false summit that is across the rim from where you gained the summit plateau approximately 30 m to the west of the false summit. There are easy to see crosses on the summit, at least when there is little to no snow.

Mt Tlalocatepetl

2007-01-20T10:51:00.000-08:00

Tlalocatepetl (Cerro Tlaloc), 1/18-19/2007:

Tlalocapetl is the mountain of the Aztec water and fertility god, Tlaloc. Tlaloc is the bringer of water. He can bring good rains ensuring a good harvest, or drought, decimating floods, and lightning storms. Yearly, the Aztec made pilgrimages to the top the the mountain to appease Tlaloc by sacrificing a baby or small child. It is said that the more the baby cried, it’s tears drops of water to Tlaloc, the better the rains that year.

The mountain itself has the character of Tlaloc. While hiking up, it could be very kind and nurturing at times, and at times quite forceful and severe. Walking up along the aqueduct was very pleasant.

The sound of the water flow, the beautiful trail. We walked from grasslands scattered with oaks, through a mixed forest with a few trees I recognized – madrone, oak, fir, pine. With wildflowers and green mosses. Then into the coniferous forest that continued to ~13,000 ft. Beautiful big pines and firs widely spaced with a bunch grass understory. The trail was steep and demanding. At one point the trail disappeared and the only way to continue was to balance on the 3 inch-wide side of the aqueduct for about 100 m. The hillside dropped off to the right for a very exposed tight-wire act along the aqueduct.

After about 4 hours of toil, we reconnected with the road! And were blasted in the face with dust as a logging truck teetered past. It was kind of funny, i guess we could have driven up all this?!

We camped in a lush meadow (~12,500 ft) where several natural springs bubbled up. The night was very cold, and i was sure i saw shadows of Aztec ghosts between the trees and heard cries and screams of children being sacrificed in the blowing wind. Creepy.

The next morning we climbed along a ridge overlooking a beautiful rock walled canyon, then into the canyon, and then a summit scramble directly up the south face. At the summit are the ruins of an Aztec temple. Two long, parallel mounds of rock line the three leveled walkway to the summit square. Inside this large square, bordered by rock walls, are several smaller mounds of rock... these are interior rooms or altars? From the summit we had a wonderful view of the two nearby volcanoes (Izta and Popo), and of the truly dumbfounding smog layer over the Mexico city valley.

We made an offering of water to Tlaloc, and after spending about .5 hr on the summit, we headed down, picked up our gear at the meadow, and retraced our steps along the aqueduct back to San Pablo. We had asked the taxi driver to be there to pick us up at 5 o'clock, and made it back at 5:07! Fehew! We quickly grabbed a Negro Modela and sipped it while rubbing our hurting feet on the bumpy ride back to Texcoco.

Tlalocapetl route description:
We hired a taxi to drive us from the town of Texcoco to the little village of San Pablo. I highly recommend either taking the bus or a taxi to San Pablo, because it would be very hard to find the town and where the approach starts on your own. From where the last bus stop is in San Pablo (where the bus turns around), continue on foot straight onto a dirt road that dips immediately through a small valley, and switches back steeply up to the left. Then continue up this road, generally staying to the left, until you reach an abandoned hut and a small aqueduct (that has running water in it). Follow this aqueduct (via road and trail) for ~ 7 miles (~3,300 feet vertical), until it disappears into the ground (buried pipe) at the edge of a meadow (at 12,500 ft). The meadow has many natural springs, and most prominently, a big blue sign discussing the aqueduct project. This should take 4-6 hours. We camped here in this meadow. (There are roads up to this meadow, so if you Spanish is good enough, you may be able to find someone in San Pablo who will drive you up to there – But the hike is very nice)

From the meadow, looking north, is a prominent rocky peak. The summit of Tlaloc is not visible, and is hidden by the slope to the north/northeast. We approached the summit by hiking up the small valley directly to the climbers right of the visible rocky peak. This becomes more of a canyon, as the cliffs to the left continue, and the slope to the right steepens. Follow this canyon/valley to the top, then turn right for a bushwhack scramble up to the summit from the south/southwest. This should take from 2-4 hours.

Teotihuacan

2007-01-20T10:50:00.002-08:00

... words coming eventually...

Templo Mayor

2007-01-20T10:50:00.001-08:00

Templo Mayor, Mexico City, 1/16/2007

Mexico City Centro is today where it has been for a long time. The central plaza, the mammoth Catedral Metropolitana, and the surrounding colonial buildings are all atop the ruins of the ancient Aztec city, Tenochtitlan. In typical Catholic conquistador style, the Catedral was built over and along side the religious center of Tenochtitlan, the Templo Mayor. And what was not built over, was covered in a giant trash heap for a few hundred years. The Templo Mayor had dual shrines to the deities Huitzilopochtli (god of war and sun), and Tlaloc (god of water and fertility). It was amazing to walk through a section of this place that was the sacred center of a city of 200,000 people, and a culture of legend. It was also depressing, infuriating, and embarrassing. The most sacred and exclusive shrine, one open only to nobility and priests, is the House of the Eagles. The House of the Eagles was complex, rich with carvings, and paintings, and definitely had a vibe of too sacred to be just walking through. As we stepped into the House of the Eagles, an act that felt wrong, the street market directly on the other side of the archaeological area fence was playing loud American music, smelled of diesel exhaust and garbage, and had a loudspeaker playing really offensive Nazi rhetoric (in English) over the street. No, really! It was such a harsh reminder of the fall of an empire, the continuing disrespect of a shared cultural history and a highly sacred space, that is still being fed by an imperialistic Catholic and European value system.

The Prophecy

2007-01-20T10:49:00.000-08:00

San Francisco, 1/13/2007

I went looking for crystals that would be used to augment the movement of mountain spirit/essence into the water i collect for offering and essences. I found everything easily, and at the last shop i got rutilated quartz, topaz, and tourmaline, but they did not have garnet. I asked the woman there about where else I could go and she sent me looking for a shop on Church St. I stepped into a deep, narrow, dark shop cluttered floor to ceiling with stones, carvings, crystals, and beads. If there could have been misty smoke in the shop, there would have been. If there could have been eerie twangy music, there would have been. I looked for the person who worked there and out of a dark corner comes an old, wrinkly Asian woman. I asked for garnet, and she opened a case for me to select a piece. As I was buying the piece at the desk in the dark corner, she asked me what my sign is... "No. Chinese sign." "Tiger", I told her. She said "Oh yes, yes you are very healing, you are psychic, and generous... you can be stubborn." I laughed and said that she was right, I can be stubborn, that is true. Then she asked me how my year was. I was ready to take her seriously, so i answered seriously. I told her that it was a stressful year, where i had to make some difficult choices, but i ended up getting the important things done. She said that last year for me was a year of compromise. Yep, it sure was, that is the word that sums it up. Now I am kind of amazed with this woman. She continues, "This year (starting mid Feb) is the year of the Boar. The BEST year for you!" She said that this year I should do something I´ve always wanted to do, it is the best year for me. And with that, I stepped back out onto the street, a little stunned, a little elated, and wondering what this year has in store for me. The prophecy.

Then, half a block away, a man asked me for a favor. "Sure, what do you need?"
"I know this is kind of weird... I have an interview in a few minutes, and i had this sweater on which left lint all over my shirt. Could you brush me off?" And he handed me a lint remover. So, I wished him luck, brushed the lint off the back of his shirt and arms, and headed on my way.

Mt. Taylor

2007-01-20T10:38:00.000-08:00

...coming soon...

Mt. Humphreys

2007-01-20T10:37:00.000-08:00

...coming soon...

Mt. Shasta

2007-01-10T16:11:00.000-08:00

Winter solstice, 2006

Solstice, the moment when we move from one year to the next, from one full circle into a new path. A revolution. Rod and I started this one with skiing up Mt. Shasta, and a whole year of adventure and learning ahead. The perfect cycle/circle. We begin our circumnavigation of Earth, climbing monuments of peace and power. We will build our roots in Central and South America, grow our spirit in Africa and Europe, bear the fruits of our practice in Central Asia, Harvest lessons learned in East Asia, and be back to Shasta next solstice to complete the circle.

She Mount, Mt. Shasta, a fiery old woman. Strength and Power of love is what she sent us to find this year. It felt good walking up her slope, and just when we started, the sky cleared up to a beautiful sunset and views of her whole mass blessing us.

We got a late afternoon start, it took hours to leave town. A million stops, a light and steady snow fall, the mountain hidden almost as if there was nothing there. Then, finally up to Bunny Flat to approach the summit via the Casaval ridge. We skinned across the first meadow as the sky started to clear and we got our first look at an ice covered, winter Shasta. Beautiful spires of ice blown rock and white against the deep blue sky. On top of a small knoll we stopped to pay tribute to the spirit of this monument and to ask for teachings during our climb.

We made it to ~8000 feet at the base of the ridge, still below tree line, after dark and set up The Slug, our tent. We were testing the JetBoil stove, and had a terrible time melting snow for dinner and drinking water. The stove would flame up, and then have a 'simmer' size flame that barely put out enough heat to warm hands, let alone melt snow. It took 3 hours to melt 2.5 L. The problem was probably cold fuel canisters.

After setting the alarm to wake us up at 2:00am, we settled into an easy sleep. At about 1:00 am the rumbling and cracking of heavy winds started up, and by 2:00, 30mph gusts were tearing through the forest. Plumes of snow off the ridges indicated ~80-100 mph gusts, so we decided to wait and see if anything changed by dawn. When the sun came up, the winds were as strong as ever, so we gave up the idea of a summit, and took a short walk up the ridge. Wind gusts were stumblely, and snow stability sketchy (south and west faces highly wind loaded), so we turned around. Despite not being able to summit Shasta now, spending solstice on her, getting to sit and play on her slopes, and receiving our trip's mission, was great. And, launched the trip well. Happily, we skied out and headed to town for a yummy lunch.