December 2007 Archives

Inspired by Two-Heel Drive's "Year in Photos", I thought I would dig through the photos I posted this year and choose a favorite from each month. Let's get to it, shall we?

January

In January, we visited Solvang and Hearst Castle. Hearst's study was one of my favorite rooms on the tour.

February

For 28 days in February, I produced a photo comic I haphazardly called "The Daily Brick". This was one of my favorites. I have been meaning to revisit this project and it's on my Action List for 2008.

March

In March, I had a brief fascination with taking photos in downtown San Jose. It happened around the time the NCAA Basketball Tournament came to town.

April

April would see our second of six trips to Yosemite in 2007. While we don't usually need an occasion to visit the park, this one happened to correspond with Earth Day.

May

Four months before the devastating Lick Fire, I had hiked to Mt. Sizer in Henry Coe State Park and had taken this photograph of Booze Lake, the spot where the fire began. I never wrote a trip report, but photographs from the hike can be found on Flickr.

June

While backpacking through Desolation Wilderness, near Lake Tahoe, we happened to witness the Angora Fire from a distance.

July

We returned to Yosemite in July and I hiked to the top of Clouds Rest. This hike and the one to the top of North Dome would likely make my list of Top 5 favorite hikes of 2007. (Note to self: Look into the feasibility of creating such a list.)

August

We traveled to Arizona in August. One of the places we visited was Casa Grande Ruins National Monument. The next trip to Arizona will involve more hiking and less heat.

September

September saw a romp through the Forest of Nisene Marks and a visit to the top of Yosemite's North Dome.

October

After the Lick Fire, a return to Henry Coe State Park was in order. I hiked to China Hole and came across this golden field on the way back along the Springs Trail.

November

After an adventure to Dewey, Crocker, and Stanford Points in Yosemite, we stumbled upon this moonrise above El Capitan and Half Dome. (For those keeping score at home, I realize that is now four photos from the same park in one year. I promise the next one will not be from Yosemite.)

December

In December, we visited Sequoia National Park and the Nation's Christmas Tree. The next day, I would hike to Silliman Pass.

Whew! So that was just a taste of 2007 in photographs. I hope 2008 provides as many (if not more) opportunities for some great shots and great adventures. There are still many sights to see and places to explore. I can't wait to get to it.

Merry Christmas and have a safe and joyful holiday. I hope Santa Claus brought you everything on your wish list. If he didn't, it might help to add a few extra cookies to the plate and throw in a gift card from his favorite coffee shop for good measure next year. (I hear he has a soft spot for peppermint mochas.)

While it might it have been interesting to join the gathering at Stonehenge to celebrate the winter solstice on Saturday, a small group of us chose to do something more conventional and closer to home. We met at the headquarters in Big Basin Redwoods State Park well after sunrise, but well before the temperature decided to rise (31° Fahrenheit), to hike to Berry Creek Falls.

When we started down the Redwood Trail, across from headquarters, there were only five cars in the parking lot. I took it as a good sign. It meant we wouldn't be encountering many people along the way.

The plan was to reach the popular waterfall taking the Redwood Trail - Skyline to the Sea Trail - Berry Creek Falls Trail route. We would then return along the Howard King and Hihn Hammond Trails. It would mean missing Golden Cascade and Silver Falls along the Sunset Trail, but in exchange, we would be passing Mt. McAbee Overlook on the way back.

It had been a couple of years since I had last hiked through this range of coast redwoods. I had forgotten how shaded the path was. Sunlight rarely reached the trail. Branches and leaves high above us kept the light for themselves and gave us only leftovers.

I had also forgotten how damp everything was. Mushrooms in various shades of brown, red, and orange huddled in the soil and on tree stumps. Nothing escaped the moisture. Even the rocks looked soggy. As is my habit, I failed to take any photos of mushrooms or rocks, but I did spot this survey marker and had to photograph it.

The first mile of the hike took us down through a prescribed burn area. We spotted scorched trunks and blackened patches bordering the trail. The smell of smoke was still in the air. In some cases, smoke was still visible.

Once we crossed Middle Ridge Road, the trail made a steep descent towards Kelly Creek, which feeds into West Waddell Creek.

The sound of flowing water gave me hope the waterfall would be going strong. After one last creek crossing, Berry Creek Falls came into view and didn't disappoint. We hastened our pace and were soon at the platform overlooking the waterfall. It was gorgeous.

After snacking and relaxing for a bit, we began our journey to the Howard King Trail, but were quickly stopped by the West Waddell Creek. The recent rains had flooded the two I-beams that serve as the creek's bridge. Even with hiking poles, it would be a challenge to cross without getting soaked socks. As it was, we only had four hiking poles between the five of us, so we turned around and returned to headquarters the same way we came.

I should note that before we retreated, I gave the creek crossing a go. I just wanted to prove to myself that it could be done without wetting my feet. Once I reached the other side, I felt a brief rush of accomplishment. This was rapidly replaced with a longer lasting feeling of stupidity as I realized I would have to repeat the feat to rejoin the group. Thankfully, I made it back across without taking an unexpected dip and we resumed hiking.

On our return trip, we encountered several other hikers (thirty in all), who were trekking to the waterfall. Each person we passed made me more grateful that we had started as early as we did. I'll trade a little cold for some solitude any day. The practically empty parking lot we had left five hours earlier was nearly full when we returned.

All in all, hiking in Big Basin was a great way to spend the winter solstice. It was a casual way to celebrate the beginning of one of my favorite seasons. Admittedly, it probably didn't compare with the fun the five-hundred folks at Stonehenge had, but then again, I've never been one for big crowds or ceremonies.

I leave you with my favorite photograph from the hike, one of several shots I took of Berry Creek Falls...

On Sunday, we traveled to Nevada City, CA, a town roughly sixty miles northeast of Sacramento, to experience the town's fabled Victorian Christmas, an annual celebration entering it's thirtieth year.

For five days in December, the town's historic district travels back in time. The streets are filled with vendors, carolers, and musicians dressed in period clothing.

Cars disappear and horse-drawn carriages take their places.

Even Santa Claus undergoes a transformation and becomes St. Nicholas or Father Christmas. (I wish I had gotten a photo of him, but I only had my iPhone and he has always been a fast-moving fellow.)

The magical effect of time travel was helped by the fact that Nevada City still resembles an old gold mining town. Its most modern building is city hall, with its art deco facade.

The drive to Nevada City was a smooth one. From Sacramento, we took Highway 80 East, towards Reno, and cut over to Highway 49, near Auburn. That took us north through Grass Valley and dropped us right off at Broad Street, the main thoroughfare of the historic district. While the town offers a shuttle for a nominal fee ($2), we opted to find our own parking and walk to the event.

Although part of event felt like the typical weekend art and wine festival, I was still taken with the town's holiday transformation, charm, and sense of community. I wonder what the place feels like during the rest of the year. It might be worth another trip.

If you or future me should ever plan to visit Victorian Christmas, here are a few tips:

• Make sure to verify the times of the celebration. This year it was only held on three Wednesday evenings and two Sunday afternoons in December.
• Be prepared for cold weather. It was chilly while we were there and I was thankful to have my jacket, hat, and gloves.
• Remember to bring a camera. (Do you hear that, future me?)
• Suspend disbelief and enjoy it. There will always be one or two killjoys who will point out every anachronism, but don't let them ruin it for you. It's Christmas. Even cynicism needs a holiday every now and then.

According to Yosemite Blog, Badger Pass is opening tomorrow, which is exciting news. It means when we visit the park in another two weeks, I'll be able to snowshoe and possibly try my hand (and feet) at cross-country skiing. (I imagine myself gliding gracefully across the snow, but my imagination has a tendency to edit out the parts involving tripping or tipping over.)

Before this current weather system, I had been worried the winter areas would still be closed during our stay. Now I'm just hoping the snow takes a short break as 2007 comes to a close, so I won't have to drive through bad weather to reach the park.

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Russ, our local Winehiker, was recently featured on In Wine Country, a locally produced NBC show about the wine country lifestyle. Pretty awesome.

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Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influences of each.

With winter coming upon us this weekend, I found this quote by Henry David Thoreau uniquely appropriate.

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To the pedestrian in downtown San Jose, who decided to ignore oncoming traffic and stop in the middle of the crosswalk to dial her cell phone: I hope you were calling the Wizard of Oz because you are in obvious need of a brain. Seriously?

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Jonathan Coulton released "My Beige Bear" today. It's a brand new song about stuffed animals that's suitable for kids of all ages.

Mauve dog gets the bed just right
The pillow sinks down deep
Cream cow moos a soft good night
Now everyone's asleep
Indigo monkey's lying peacefully with arms around her
Next to a wise and kindly bear

My beige bear doesn't care that he's old
My beige bear still has four paws to hold
When it's dark and it's cold
I reach out for my beige bear

(Or, A Note About Stupidity from the Department of Tongues in Cheeks)

Each and every one of us has had a moment where we've said or done something dumb. It's called getting a case of the stupids.

After we've apologized and kicked ourselves and apologized some more and searched for a decent rock to hide under, most of us are left trying to figure out how to recover and resume being the highly intelligent, sophisticated, and above-average people we know ourselves to be. It can be a difficult process, which is why our department has created a list of 5 steps to help you through a case of the stupids.

1. Admit your stupidity. To deny it is to deny a part of you. Any hope for recovery requires that you accept all of you, even the dumb parts.
2. Embrace it. Once you acknowledge it, don't shun it; hold it close and cherish it. You never know, this might be a once in a lifetime opportunity to experience what it's truly like to be like everybody else.
3. Wallow in it. Throw yourself a pity party, but make it quick. A streamer, a couple of balloons, and a freshly baked humble pie (with whipped cream) should do the trick. There's no need to invite anyone else.
4. Learn from it. Use the party as a chance to improve yourself. Any case of the stupids that doesn't kill you, can only make you smarter. It might not prevent future stupidity, but take comfort in the fact that it will likely be a different variety of stupid.
5. Let it go. Once you've learned your lesson, there's no reason to let it linger. Wish your stupidity well and send it on its way. Holding onto it won't help anybody.

Along with these 5 steps, here a few more tips to keep in mind...

• Stay away from others. Until you've finished the fifth step, you won't be pleasant to be around. Also, being around people not suffering from a case of the stupids will only make you feel worse, which could prevent you from recovering.
• Don't rush the steps. Depending on the severity of the case, the steps could take a matter of minutes or a matter of weeks. If you rush, you run the risk of a relapse.
• Don't try to fix it. What has been done can't be undone (at least until time machines are invented). In most cases, fixing only makes things worse.
• Know you're not alone. There are roughly six billion other people doing or saying something dumb (or maybe dumber) at this very moment.
• Know you're special. If the previous tip doesn't help, then take comfort in the fact that you are suffering from your own special strain of stupid and that makes you unique.

With these steps and tips, you have everything you need to get through your case of the stupids. If you follow them, you should be well on your way to recovery in no time.

After letting the Mitchell Report and the potential repercussions it will have on major league baseball marinate over the weekend, I jotted down a few thoughts about it...

• I will be very disappointed if no disciplinary action is taken. I realize George Mitchell urged Commissioner Bud Selig not to discipline players for past violations unless it threatened the integrity of the game, but I believe every instance of cheating threatens the game's integrity. It doesn't matter if it leads to a broken record, Cy Young award, or championship ring, or simply gives one player a spot on a big league roster over another player; it still undermines the game. To allow past cheating to occur without any consequences rubs me the wrong way and sends the wrong message to players and fans.
• I don't think it's reasonable to believe that Barry Bonds or Roger Clemens are going to be stripped of their awards, or that either of them will have asterisks placed on their records.
• It only seems fair that any Clemens-tainted baseball, jersey, or glove in the Hall of Fame should receive a Marc Ecko stamp of approval.
• I don't believe it's reasonable to expect Bud Selig to strip the Yankees of their championships during the years their roster was packed with the performance-enhanced players. Admittedly, it would give me a warm, fuzzy feeling if he did.
• While the names of players listed will receive the most media attention, I believe there are two parts of Mitchell's report that deserve greater attention.
  
  The first is Section II (pages 4-17), which outlines the adverse effects of anabolic steroids and human growth hormones. It not only talks about the health threat they pose to individual athletes, it also talks about their threat to the integrity of the game. Mitchell includes a fitting quote by George F. Will:

  Athletes who are chemically propelled to victory do not merely overvalue winning, they misunderstand why winning is properly valued. Professional athletes stand at an apex of achievement, but their achievements are admirable primarily because they are the products of a lonely submission to a sustained discipline of exertion. Such submission is a manifestation of good character.

  The second section worthy of greater attention is Section XI (pages 285-306), which outlines Mitchell's recommendations. It covers investigating non-testing based allegations, addressing violations, and preventing future use through education. They are forward-looking recommendations to change the culture of the game. I sincerely hope Major League Baseball closely reviews them and implements them. With any luck, they will go above and beyond the recommendations to make baseball a leader when it comes to cracking down on performance enhancing drugs.
• I realize that all we are talking about is a game. Yet it's a game closely associated with our national identity. To that end, I want baseball to be a sport that upholds certain ideals and values, like hard work, discipline, character, honesty, athleticism, and good sportsmanship. If they are values we want in our young athletes, then they should be values the league promotes and every player embodies.

This is what happens when I listen to a baseball-related press conference and stumble upon some text-to-speech software on the same day -- I end up using my writing time to produce a by-the-seat-of-my-pants podcast.

Here's a link to the mp3, if the embedded file doesn't work. The audio is difficult to understand, so I have included a transcript of the program for handy reference...

Michael: Good afternoon and welcome to Random Curiosity Radio, podcasting from a computer in the 4-0-8, in 16 bit stereo, at 48kHz. This is Program Number 1. I'm Michael Mickelson.

Michelle: I'm Michelle DeLaRochelle.

Sam: And I am Microsoft Sam, no relation to Yosemite, though I don't like varmints.

Michael: We're here because David stumbled upon a text-to-speech program that is supposedly a "natural voice" reader.

Sam: I sound natural... right?

Michelle: Very.

Michael: Because this is our first episode, we are learning as we go. I thought we would begin with the story of the day: the release of the Mitchell Report on steroid use in major league baseball.

Sam: Excellent! Steroids in sports are a serious issue.

Michael: Yes it is, Sam. At a press conference today, former Senator George Mitchell outlined the findings from his investigation. He also listed some of the recommendations in his report, including...

Sam: Yes yes, that's all nice and fine, but people don't want to hear his recommendations! They want names!

Michael: We'll get to that in a second. I just wanted...

Sam: Names! I have them right here!

Michelle: Michael, maybe we should just let him read them to get it done and over with.

Michael: Fine. Go ahead, Sam.

Sam: Thank you. Um... in what order should I read them? Alphabetically or from shortest to tallest player?

Michael: Just read them!

Sam: Okay, okay. Mitchell named the following cheaters...

Michelle: Alleged.

Sam: Alleged cheaters. The list includes: Barry Bonds, Kevin Brown, Roger Clemens, Jack Cust, Brendan Donnelly, Eric Gagne, Jason Giambi...

Michelle: Gone-yay and Gee-om-bee.

Sam: It isn't Gagne or Giambi?

Michelle: No, no it isn't.

Sam: Oops, my bad. Eric Gone-yay. and Jason Gee-Om-Be. Troy Glaus, David Justice, Chuck Knoblauch...

Michelle: Knob-lock.

Sam: Knob-lock? What type of name is knob-lock?

Michael: Just keep reading.

Sam: Okay. Paul Lo Duca, Gary Matthews Jr., Andy Pettitte, Gary Sheffield, and Miguel Tejada.

Michelle: Tay-hada.

Michael: Michelle! Please stop correcting him. Just be thankful there aren't any Japanese players on the list.

Sam: What? Why not? I don't have any problem pronouncing Hideki Matsui or Kosuke Fukudome.

Michelle: You're kidding, right?

Michael: We are nearly out of time. Michelle, why don't you give us a couple of key quotes from today's press conference?

Michelle: Thank you, Michael. During the conference, Mitchell said "a principal goal of this investigation is to bring to a close this troubling chapter in baseball’s history and to use the lessons learned from the past to prevent the future use of performance enhancing substances." He also urged the Commissioner to forego imposing discipline on players for past violations of baseball’s rules, except in extreme cases where the integrity of the game is threatened.

Sam: Bull honkey!

Michael: And that's all the time we have. For Michelle DeLaRochelle and Microsoft Sam, I'm Michael Mickelson. This has been Random Curiosity Radio, Program Number 1. Thank you for listening!

Sam: Ya better say yer prayers, ya flea-bitten varmint! I'm a-gonna blow ya to smithereenies!

Because I'm a practicing Metooist, I thought I'd follow Elkit's example and see how the list of books I've read this year stacks up against the "What's in a Name" reading challenge, which is really meant for next year. Let's see how I'm doing so far. To complete the challenge, one must read a book with:

• a color in its title... Blue Highways by William Least Heat-Moon,
• an animal in its title... (whoops, strike one),
• a first name in its title... Mike by P.G. Wodehouse,
• a place in its title... Cannery Row by John Steinbeck,
• a weather event in its title... Storm Front by Jim Butcher,
• and a plant in its title... Mayflower: A Story of Courage, Community, and War by Nathaniel Philbrick.

So, as you can see, if I were undertaking the challenge this year, I would be needing to read a book with an animal, any animal, in the title. I do have Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird sitting on the shelf. Since I'm still seven books shy of reaching my goal of 52 books in 52 weeks, perhaps I can kill two, well, winged creatures with one stone (disguised as a paperback).

Calero County Park is a quick fifteen-minute drive from my house. Being so close, you would think I would be a Calero expert -- somebody with intimate knowledge of its landmarks, features, and trails -- and you would be wrong. Apparently, proximity does not equal familiarity. Before yesterday, I had never set foot in the park.

While I had hoped to hike the 6.2-mile trek described in the Healthy Trails brochure, M and I settled on an abbreviated 3.6-mile hike so we would get back to the car before sundown and get back to town before the The Golden Compass started. (The Plan was to see the 5:15 showing and one must follow The Plan.)

From the trail head, we took a short access trail to the Figueroa Trail. Because Calero is primarily an equestrian park, the trails are wide and strewn with horse droppings. On the downside, one has to be continually vigilant of where one steps. On the upside, it's difficult to get lost on trails so clearly and regularly marked.

The first quarter-mile was my least favorite part of the hike. Signs of civilization were still present. For a distance, the trail paralleled McKean Road, which is a choice route for motorcycle enthusiasts.

From the trail, we could also see a golf course across the road. The unnatural greenness of the course clashed with the natural browns and tans of the landscape. Obviously, golf knows no seasons.

As we passed a private residence adjacent to the park, we were overwhelmed with the sounds of two noisy dirt bikes gunning their way through a homemade stunt course (admittedly, both riders handled the jumps well).

Once we rounded the bend, the roar of the engines faded behind the hills and I started to enjoy the hike. The Figueroa Trail took us through a small wooded area before leading us up and around one of the many open hills that dominate Calero's landscape.

Two miles in, we came to the junction where the Figueroa, Javelina, and Pena Trails meet. If we had been taking the longer route, we would have taken the Javelina Loop, but we were good, stayed true to The Plan, and took the Pena Trail.

Where Figueroa used a roundabout approach to tell us we would be climbing, Pena used the brutal honesty approach. There was nothing subtle about the slopes over the final mile of the hike.

As we met up with the Los Cerritos Trail and returned to the trail head, we were rewarded with a nice view of Coyote Valley, a mostly undeveloped buffer zone that separates San Jose from Morgan Hill.

The Plan for this weekend is to head back out to Calero and make up for some lost time. Perhaps a long hike will help balance that pesky proximity/familiarity equation.

This weekend, I

> watched the Sci Fi Channel's Tin Man online. It's a miniseries that takes L. Frank Baum's "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" and gives it a modern science fiction twist. Unless you're a silver-slipper-wearing Ozophile or somebody who must watch every second of film featuring Zooey Deschanel, this is 6 hours of entertainment you can skip (4.5 hours without commercials).

Some of the re-imagined elements are clever (like Toto as a shapeshifter), but most are corny (like tattoos that transform into flying monkeys). Instead of Dorothy in Oz, we get DG in the O.Z. (and no, Mischa Barton does not play the Scarecrow).

For me, the most compelling character wasn't DG, but Wyatt Cain (played by Neal McDonough). He's a former policeman (or "tin man") who rebelled against the evil witch, was imprisoned in a metal suit by her henchmen, and forced to relive the moment when they took his family (his heart) from him for many years. After DG frees him, he sets out on a quest to exact revenge. Keeping that storyline and eliminating everything else would have made for fifteen minutes of worthwhile television.

> read Jim Butcher's Storm Front. Inspired by Ealasaid's praise for his books earlier this year (bottom half of the page) and needing a few "quick reads" to successfully reach my goal of 52 books in 52 weeks (7 books in 21 days is doable, right?), I began reading The Dresden Files.

Harry Dresden is a wizard struggling to make a living as a private investigator in Chicago. In the first book, while trying to help the police solve a supernatural murder case, he battles scorpions, a vampiress, a demon, and a black mage. He also tries to go out on a date. As expected, Dresden has more success battling than dating.

With one foot in fantasy and the other in mystery, Butcher combines to the two genres and creates a story that is exciting, well-paced, funny, and original. I'm already reading the second Dresden book and can't wait to see how the rest of the series unfolds.

> saw The Golden Compass. I went with high expectations and wasn't disappointed. Chris Weitz did a good job of adapting the first book in Philip Pullman's trilogy to the big screen. He managed to keep the film to a reasonable length (just under two hours) without losing the joy of the story (the mystery of Dust, the alethiometer, the Gyptians, and the armored polar bears). There were changes and omissions from the book, but they weren't as egregious as those I've seen in other recent adaptations.


The movie also benefited from an outstanding cast. Nicole Kidman and Daniel Craig were convincing as Mrs. Coulter and Lord Asrial. Sam Elliott was made to play the cowboy aeronaut, Lee Scoresby. But most of all, I couldn't get enough of Dakota Blue Richards as Lyra Belacqua. She came across as a smart, brave, clever, defiant, curious, and vulnerable young woman. In other words, she portrayed Lyra perfectly.

After I saw The Fellowship of the Ring, I left the theater wishing I could go back in and see the sequel. The Golden Compass gave me a similar feeling. Unfortunately, The Subtle Knife doesn't come out until 2009.

> sauntered around Calero County Park. Because of a late start on Sunday afternoon, I was only able to hike 3.6 miles of the full 6.2-mile loop suggested in the Healthy Trails brochure. I'll post a short report with a photo or two tonight. I hope to try the full hike (or a longer hike) at the end of the week.

For those of you needing something to lift your spirits today, here are three links to bring a little levity and laughter to your life. They have all been personally tested for humor content and quality.

First, John Ralston, the artist drawing a page of comics every day for a year (A Year in Comics), is finishing strong with a series called The House-Boy in the Sticks. Drawn in a distinctive, classic style on vintage paper, the strip follows the domestic adventures of the ever-suffering house-boy, Jack. It's brilliantly funny and imaginative. My favorite (so far) is "Furnace Me a Home".

Next, Jonathan Coulton recently released a French version of ""Re: Your Brains", a song about zombie coworkers (something everybody can relate to). It's called "Re: Vos Cerveaux". It might just be me, but I swear French zombies sound more cultured and refined than their English counterparts.

Finally, Ze Frank provides inspiration in his latest video about feeling uninspired. This one helped me through the last days of NaNoWriMo. Nothing motivates me like somebody coming right out and saying, "But, my God, we gotta keep on making stuff!"

I hope at least one brings a smile to your face. Happy Friday!

At a modest 10,165 feet above sea level, Silliman Pass is the low point between Twin Peaks (elev. 10,479) and Mt. Silliman (elev. 11,188). It sits on the Kings-Kaweah Divide, which is the border between Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks. It also overlooks popular campsites at Twin Lakes.

From Generals Highway, the parks' main road, two trail heads lead to Twin Peaks: Wuksachi Village and Lodgepole. While starting from Lodgepole would have shortened the hike by a half-mile, it would have meant driving, so we trekked through the manicured walking path behind the lodge and crossed a vast, empty parking lot to the Wuksachi trail head instead. It was 7:30 in the morning.

The trail began innocently enough. Long, lazy switchbacks led down to a bridge crossing Clover Creek. On the other side, the trail climbed gently for a distance, then quickly leveled off and remained level until we reached the junction (1.5 miles in) where the Wuksachi and Lodgepole trails met.

A mile later, we reached Silliman Creek. Snow had been falling lightly all morning. Individual snowflakes were accumulating on my jacket. I silently asked the snow to stop so I wouldn't be forced to cut the hike short..

The trail began to climb in earnest on the other side of the creek. M, who had wanted to get a taste of the trail, turned back at this point. While she made her way safely back to the lodge, I started the ascent that would take me past Silliman Meadow...

through Cahoon Gap (elevation 8,645 feet) and across a frozen Clover Creek.

A quarter-mile from the creek, I reached a split in the trail. The left branch led to J.O. Pass, while the right branch led to Twin Lakes. The snowing had stopped by this time, so I sauntered to the lakes.

The trail wove its way up through a sparsely treed area and skirted a frozen waterfall that usually feeds the East Fork of Clover Creek during the spring and summer.

I started catching glimpses of Twin Peaks between the treetops. I was so distracted by the views from the trail that the sudden appearance of Twin Lakes caught me by surprise. It was just before noon.

South Lake, the larger of the twins, was the first one I saw. Giant rocks protruded through its frozen surface.

As I stood there, it occurred to me that this was the first fully frozen lake I had ever seen in person. I had read about how noisy the ice could be, but it was still alarming to hear the groaning, snapping, popping, and crunching. As I walked along the edge, I took extra care to watch where I stepped.

I soon ventured over to take a peek at North Lake and was greeted with another amazing view of Twin Peaks, which still seemed to tower high above.

To that point, I had hiked 7.3 miles and climbed 2,200 feet, but if I wanted to reach Silliman Pass, I still had 1.3 miles to hike and 800 feet to climb. While the peaks looked daunting, they also looked enticing.

"Don't you want to see Mt. Silliman?" asked Taller Peak.

"Don't you want to know what is on the other side?" chimed in Shorter Peak.

In response, I started up a series of short switchbacks that soon offered a spectacular view of Twin Lakes and the valleys and ridges beyond.

Halfway up, I lost the trail and found myself standing on a granite slope directly beneath Twin Peaks. I focused on the saddle between the peaks and a previously invisible path appeared before me. In a matter of minutes, I was at the saddle. The peaks seemed much less daunting up close.

The view on the other side of the divide was well worth the effort. A massive granite amphitheater opened up before and below me.

I tried to match the distant landmarks with the names on my map. Somewhere out there was Sugarloaf Valley, Sphinx Crest, North and South Guards, Mt. Brewer, and the Great Western Divide.

Of course, the most easily identifiable landmark was nearby Mt. Silliman.

I don't know how long I stood there, but at some point, I reluctantly looked away and descended to Silliman Pass. After a few minutes of trial and error, I stumbled upon the trail that would take me back to the lakes. The time was ten minutes to two.

The return trip was downhill, quick, and uneventful. I paused at the lakes and the meadow for a few minutes each, just to soak in their beauty a little longer. At each place, I expected to come across another hiker, but during my entire journey, I never came across another soul.

I also used these stops to drink water directly from my hydration pack. The water in the tube had frozen while I was gaping at the views at the pass. Temperatures at the top must have been in the low to mid twenties. I made a mental note to buy tube insulation or a winter hydration pack when I got home.

I reached the trail head around 4:30. Daylight was dwindling and my legs were ready for some rest. After a long hike, a hot shower and hot meal sounds so good. I rewarded myself with both that evening.

You can see more photos from the hike and park on Flickr.

Dear Rain,

I'm writing to complain about your unexpected appearance last night and this morning.

Do you know why I'm mad?

It isn't that you showed up two days early or made my morning commute a mess. It isn't even that you drenched me as I walked to work.

It's not the water you dumped on my head; it's the music you put in my head.

All I can think about is that song by Rihanna (or Marié Digby, depending on whose version you like better). Not only do I have the melody looping through my brain, but every three-syllable word I hear or see automatically gets the special Umbrella Song Treatment.

December suddenly becomes December-ember-ember-e-e-e and peppermint becomes peppermint-ermint-ermint-i-i-i (the folks at Starbucks got a kick out of that one). And while it's mildly amusing the first time or two, it quickly becomes annoying-oying-oying-oy-oy-agh!

So, if you could please go away and just come back on Thursday. That should give me enough time to permanently extract the song and erect a mental firewall in my brain. Then you can drizzle or pour to you heart's content.

Thank you and happy holidays-ida#$%... (whew, that was a close one).

Sincerely,
David

Every once in a while, I like to see what search terms bring folks here. As is often the case, 9 out of every 10 visitors come here by accident. These poor people were led astray by the God of Search Engines (a.k.a. Google). Feeling partially responsible for their predicament, I believe it's necessary to redeem myself occasionally and get them back on the right track. As I did last time, I have kept the queries intact, but have changed the names and places to make this feel more like an informal question and answer session. To the queries...

Alexander B. from Scotland wonders, "what are those devices everyone is wearing on their ears little phones or mp3 players?"

Contrary to popular belief, Alexander, those little devices you see people wearing aren't for talking on the phone or for listening to music. While euphemistically referred to as Bluetooth technology, they are actually the latest in brain seepage prevention technology. If they don't wear it, things can get very messy, very fast. If you see somebody wearing such a device, remember, don't stare or make fun. The individual doesn't deserve your contempt, he or she deserves your sympathy and understanding.

Craig B. from Texas wants to know, "who hit robby thompson in the face with a pitch?"

This is an easy one, Craig. According to this article, the culprit who hit Robby Thompson and broke his cheekbone was Trevor Hoffman.

E. Robertson from Ontario wants to know, "how do i get rid of unwanted pictures in my shoebox".

Here are my Top 5 recommended ways of getting rid of unwanted pictures in a shoe box (mp3), in order of preference:

1. shredding
2. tossing
3. burning
4. burying
5. regifting

Diophantus of Alexandria queries, "shelby has eight fewer dimes than pennies and nineteen fewer dimes than nickels shelby has a total of $3.75 how many of each coin does she have?"

Diophantus, I'm not going to give you the final answer, although I'm sure it's out there on the web somewhere. Instead, I'll quickly walk you through how I would solve it...

1. First, I establish my variables: p for the number of pennies Shelby has, n for nickels, and d for dimes.

2. Next, I write my initial equation: .10d + .05n + .01p = 3.75.

3. Because it will be easier to solve for just one variable, I'm going to write p and n in terms of d. Shelby has eight fewer dimes than pennies. Therefore, p = d + 8. She also has nineteen fewer dimes than nickels (n = d + 19).

4. Substituting these back into the main equation, I get: .10d + .05(d + 19) + .01(d + 8) = 3.75.

5. Now all you need to do is simplify and solve for d and you'll know how many dimes Shelby has. From there, plug the number of dimes back into the two simpler equations and you'll get the number of pennies and nickels.

Carica P. from Mexico wants to know, "words that rhyme with papaya".

Carica, after a deep meditation session, here are my Top 5 words that rhyme with papaya...

1. jambalaya
2. Sanjaya
3. pariah
4. Mariah
5. conspire (with the right mispronunciation)

Garth B. from Oklahoma queries, "looking for a country song with the lyrics swing batta batta swing in it".

Garth, the song you're looking for is "Swing" by Trace Adkins. I wrote about it last year, but I'm afraid the links I included are nothing more than a memory. Luckily, the song's music video is still available on YouTube...

Diophantus, if you're still reading this, Shelby has 17 dimes. And this is why I wouldn't make a good math teacher.

This weekend, M & I visited Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks. Unlike last weekend's trip, which was spontaneous, this trip was planned well in advance, so we were able to reserve a room at the Wuksachi Lodge, two miles from Lodgepole, Sequoia's main visitor center. Considering Saturday's nighttime temperature dipped to 16 degrees Fahrenheit, I was happy to have a warm place to sleep.

One of the things I wanted to do while at the parks was visit the General Grant Tree in the Grant Grove area of Kings Canyon. In addition to being the third largest living thing in the world, the General Grant Tree is also "The Nation's Christmas Tree". To celebrate this designation, a local chamber of commerce has led a pilgrimage to the tree and held a ceremony at its base on the second Sunday of December every year since 1926.

Since we wouldn't be able to attend the official pilgrimage and ceremony, I thought it would be cool to do our own "Trek to the Tree", perhaps with something symbolizing the spirit of Christmas.

Of course, this idea only occurred to me as we were driving to the park on Friday, somewhere between Los Banos and Clovis. The odds of finding a store selling simple decorations seemed slim. Unless Lady Luck blessed us with a Christmas miracle, ours would be one sad little trek.

By the time we entered Fresno, I had given up all hope. We hadn't seen one convenience store along the way. I was positive Lady Luck was ignoring us.

That's when M suddenly pointed and said, "Hey, look, there's a Dollar Tree!" Those dingy green block letters never looked so good.

Four dollars and thirty-three cents later, we had a 15-inch wreath, a bag of fake cranberries, and two Santa hats. Some assembly was required, but M did a fine job of decorating the wreath.

For thirty minutes, we had the grove and giant sequoias to ourselves. We took our time wandering along the Grant Tree Trail. It was difficult to walk without stopping and staring up in awe at the colossal trees.

When we reached the General Grant Tree, I placed the wreath on a post in front of it. There weren't choirs singing or balloons on parade or dignitaries making speeches or celebrities lighting trees, but in that moment, without any of the pageantry, it felt like Christmas.

Before we left, we removed the wreath, just in case a ranger came along and thought we were trying to deface a national treasure with cheap decorations.

We drove down Generals Highway, checked into our room, dined at the lodge, and retired early in preparation for the big hike on Saturday.