College Football in the HEAT! Yuck!

Saturday September 25th 2010

What fun.. let's go watch the Ducks play the Devils in Tempe on a Saturday night. NOT!

Here it is the end of September and it is still over 100 degrees in the "Valley of the Sun". I am so sick of the reference to the "Sun" when we should really rename Phoenix/Scottsdale the Land of 100 days of 100+ degrees". Don't tell me there is not "climate change" going on here. When I moved here in the seventies, by the end of September your pool was too cold to swim in unless you heated it. Now the sun takes care of that till mid-October! Yes, the weather here is great from Mid-October till May, but in between, you have to endure an ceaseless parade of 100+ degree days. After 30 years this is getting old.

Anyway, back to last Saturday night. P and I and Marty (ex ASU medical doctor) parked near the stadium and tried to get into "My Big Fat Greek Restaurant" before the game. The hostess told us our wait would be about a half hour, but after nearly 45 minutes we were still waiting. We pass on the Greek and decide to get a bite at the nearby stadium.

When I ordered the tix I ordered them from the Oregon web site so we could sit with other duck fans (Marty excepted). ASU was so kind providing the Oregon fans seats as far from the field as possible. I think we were closer to Flagstaff than to Tempe. We were so far from the field that when the band played at the half it was like the sound was on "mute". I know there was a football game going on, but following the ball was impossible. We always talk about being in the nosebleed section, i.e. so high up that your nose bleeds from the altitude. Well, Marty actually saw a young boy who actually had a nosebleed!.

And then there was the HEAT. All day the concrete stadium sits in the sun absorbing hours of high temps. By the time I take my seat, the heat is still pouring out to the hot night air. Talk about a sticky butt. I will spare my readers of the details but had I been wearing an adult diaper, it would be soaked. NEVER, NEVER will I go to a game again, night or day when the temps are this hot..period.

Oh yes, Oregon won in a very ugly 4 hour game. We finally got home around 1 AM. The shower felt really good but the next day I was a total noodle. Thursday its off for Vermont for a long week-end. Can't wait to get out of the heat.

Mao's Last Dancer. Super film!

Hi guys and gals,

First off..I am really stoked. My blog got almost 100 hits yesterday. Six new countries! Including Spain, France and Romania.

A departure for me, I am now a movie critic. In a single word, I found Mao's Last Dancer "fantastic!"

On further reading of the autobio of the main character ,Li Cunxin, the movie takes some liberties. (Like one marriage that never happened and two trips to the USA) Nevertheless , for me the story is compelling.

The true story is the heartening rags-to-riches story of Li, who achieved prominence on the international ballet stage. Born in 1961, just before the Cultural Revolution, Li was raised in extreme rural poverty and witnessed Communist brutality, yet he imbibed a reverence for Mao and his programs. In a twist of fate worthy of a fairy tale (or a ballet), Li, at age 11, was selected by delegates from Madame Mao's arts programs to join the Beijing Dance Academy. In 1979, through the largesse of choreographer and artistic director Ben Stevenson, he was selected to spend a summer with the Houston Ballet—the first official exchange of artists between China and America since 1949. Li's visit, with its taste of freedom, made an enormous impression on his perceptions of both ballet and of politics, and once back in China, Li lobbied persistently and shrewdly to be allowed to return to America. Miraculously, he prevailed in getting permission for a one-year return. In an April 1981 spectacle that received national media attention, Li defected in a showdown at the Chinese consulate in Houston. He married fellow dancer Mary McKendry and gained international renown as a principal dancer with the Houston Ballet and later with the Australian Ballet; eventually, he retired from dance to work in finance. Despite Li's tendency toward the cloying and sentimental, his story will appeal to an audience beyond Sinophiles and ballet aficionados—it provides a fascinating glimpse of the history of Chinese-U.S. relations and the dissolution of the Communist ideal.

The movie exaggerates a bit of course, but the humanity of Li, his teachers, his parents and his American sponsors is admirable. I will not give away the last scene, but it brought uncontrolled tears to my eyes and most in the audience. This is a film that has been panned by many critics but loved by the limited audiences who have seen it. When the movie ended, most in the audience applauded. All of those I know who have seen the film loved it. I expect word of mouth will make this a winner.

BTW, the movie coincided with my listening to Rob Gifford's "China Road" . Rob took off on a "Jack Kerouac-like" journey across China a couple of years ago and his account of the people and places gave me a background that made the movie all the more enjoyable.

Don't miss this one. Here is the trailer:

http://trailers.apple.com/trailers/independent/maoslastdancer/

Manzanar and the Road home

September 10th 2010

All good things must come to an end and so ends our summer in Ashland. We decided to stay off interstate 5 on the route home and instead took the more inland route which passes through some of the most beautiful landscapes you will ever see. The principle part of the two-day journey in on U.S. route 395 paralleling the eastern slope of the Sierra.

Passing majestic, snow covered Mt. Shasta and the Lassen Volcano we were engulfed frequently in a literal tunnel of trees for hours It is so easy and relaxing to drive for hours through this kind of landscape a (and an excellent John LeCarre book on audio). I feast on all the eye candy and the best is yet to come.

The trusty Prius seems to drive on its own. A brief stretch through Nevada (Reno Yuck!) is the only difficult part of the trip and we are in and out of Nevada in less than an hour. Our final destination today is Lone Pine California.

Lone Pine is bordered on the West by the Sierra and Mt. Whitney, the tallest peak in the lower 48 states, and on the East about 90 miles away Death Valley. The contrasts and colors of the mountains here are overwhelming, particularly at sunrise and sunset. But despite the spectacular surroundings, Lone Pine is known for a serious blemish in the patina of American liberty.

Barely a few miles south of Lone Pine is the former site of Manzanar, the Japanese internment camp for tens of thousands of American citizens of Japanese descent during World War II.

Long before the first prisoners arrived in March 1942, Manzanar was home to Indian tribes, who mostly lived in villages near several creeks in the area. Ranchers and miners formally established the town of Manzanar in 1910, but abandoned the town by 1929 after Los Angeles purchased the water rights to virtually the entire area. As different as these groups were, their histories displayed a common thread of forced relocation..

After the Pearl Harbor attack on December 7, 1941, the United States Government swiftly moved to begin solving the “Japanese Problem” on the West Coast of the United States. In the evening hours of that same day, the FBI arrested selected “enemy” aliens, including 2,192 who were of Japanese decent. The California government pressed for action by the national government, as many citizens were alarmed about potential activities by people of Japanese descent.

On February 19, 1942, President Roosevelt signed an executive order, which authorized the Secretary of War to designate military commanders to prescribe military areas and to exclude “any or all persons” from such areas. The order also authorized the construction of what would later be called “relocation centers” to house those who were to be excluded. This order resulted in the forced relocation of over 120,000 Japanese Americans, two-thirds of whom were native-born American Citizens! The rest had been prevented from becoming citizens by federal law. Over 110,000 were imprisoned in the ten concentration camps located far inland and away from the coast.

I recently finished a book about the democracy practiced by the Indian Nations of the Northeast and how many believe it inspired the Founding Fathers in the drafting of our own Constitution. Henry James whose works were full of social and class commentary wrote of the much- admired "democratic spirit" of our country. In the case of Manzanar, and perhaps in our current times with all the flap over the new "aliens", are wee losing our way again?

"The Winter of our Discontent"

September 8th 2010

So quoted Richard II in the opening line of the play of the same name. Its only appropriate to quote from Shakespeare as we complete our six week stint in this great small town. But quite the opposite, this was our "Summer of Contentment". What a wonderful time we had!

Some of the highlights:

1. New friends..lots of them..transplants from Alaska, San Francisco, the Mid-West, the South, Ireland, New Zealand..you name it.

2. Never having turned on a TV with so many other things to do, day and night.

3. Walking everywhere, parking my car and hardly driving at all.

4. Mixing with the actors as part of the community

5. Trees, trees everywhere and daily visits thru Lithia Park

6. Deer and fawns in my backyard every day

7. Lots of local shops with friendly owners who always have time for a hello and a smile

8. Saturday and Tuesday local growers markets

9. Mountains changing colors as the day moves from sunrise to sunset

Ashland is a very special place not only for the culture and the surrounding natural beauty, but also for the people who live here. The town is a melting pot for many who came of age in the sixties and those of the younger generation who want a life of simpler things without the bling.

The town has undergone quite a change from the logging community it was only 30 years ago.

I close with the words of famous photographer, Henri Cartier-Bresson:

"Change is never just about beginning and end

states, but also about that magically indefinite

gap between them.”

I Thought I Knew Blue Till I Saw this Lake

Crater Lake Oregon September 2nd 2010.

The words spoken by Scott the Geologist(M.S.)/Ski Bum from Billings Montana on his arrival on Garfield Peak a thousand feet above Crater Lake....But frankly, words cannot describe the vistas here.

Picture yourself as an ancient Klamath tribesman here in Southern Oregon about 7,500 years ago. The ground below you begins to rumble. You look out into the distance and 12,000ft. Mount Mazama begins to erupt along with several other nearby volcanoes. If you are far enough away to survive and you look back at the mountain, it has disappeared, never to return. The magma chamber under Mazama has emptied and the mountain has literally collapsed into the empty chamber. What is left is a caldera nearly five miles wide and a few thousand feet deep.

Over time the lake fills with snow melt and rain water to a depth of almost 2000 feet deep. The lake, Crater Lake , is the deepest in North America and its water the purest you will find anywhere.

Thanks to the persistence of William Steel, an adventurer, entrepreneur, and self-appointed promoter of Crater Lake, and a lot of help from my favorite Pres. Teddy Roosevelt, Crater Lake became a National Park in1902.Steel was a member of the Portland Alpine Club, the first known alpine club in the West, and then a member of the Mazamas after the Portland Alpine Club folded.Steel not only spent time guiding influential people around the area and leading nature hikes, but he also gave campfire lectures about Crater Lake's flora, fauna and geography, much like a contemporary interpretive park ranger. Steel more than anyone else shaped the early public perception of Crater Lake. For example, he garnered a great deal of publicity for Crater Lake by hosting the Mazamas' convention and mountain climbing tour in 1896. Hundreds of people, including politicians, scientists and climbers, spent three weeks in the area. At the close of the convention, fireworks were lit on wizard Island and the group ceremoniously christened the volcano that once stood where the lake is, calling it Mount Mazama.

Today we drove two hours or so through the heavily wooded Cascades northeast of Ashland and arrived at the park. A quick lunch in the historic lodge (dedicated by T.R.) and then Deb, Larry, P and I are ready to tackle the 3 mile climb up to Garfield Peak, 8000 feet above sea level and a thousand feet above the lake. This climb is "strenuous" by park standards but I think they are over exaggerating its difficulty. Nevertheless, it took us a couple of hours to reach the summit and along the way we passed but a few hikers either ascending or descending. I am always amazed by how many people visit these parks but hardly hike anymore than a few yards from their cars or the lodge! At Crater Lake, to miss the view way above the lake is to miss a something very special.

At the top we just stopped and looked, and looked and looked. I can seriously say this was one of the most beautiful views I have ever seen in my life, even as good as the Grand Canyon. The color of the lake was as blue as blue can be and then some. Paula called it "Titian Blue" after the Italian Master of the 15th century, but i doubt if he ever saw the lake.

At the summit we snacked, fed some squirrels, and looked some more. The view was addicting. Eventually we were joined by our new friend Scott the geologist/ski bum and a few other hikers, most of them foreign of course. Put the view of Crater Lake from Garfield Peak on your bucket list, it's on mine now!

The hike down was easy but by the end my bionic ankle was throbbing. Two Advil did the trick.

The way home passed through Medford and a stop at Kaleidoscope Pizza.The K Pizza Place is a "relative" of the "Moose's Tooth Pizza" in Anchorage, a favorite of Larry and Deb. The pizza was terrific!

All in all this was quite a day. On a scale of one to ten, I would give it an eleven! Funny how some of the simplest things in life, like being in close touch with the beauty of Mother Nature, can bring so much enjoyment and peace to the soul.

On the Pacific Crest Trail with Norm the Wonder Dawg

The Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) is a long-distance mountain hiking and equestrian trail that runs in Washington, Oregon, and California between Mexico and Canada. To serious hikers this is the Super Bowl, the World Series and the Masters all rolled up in one. To cover the entire trail you have to start at the Mexican Border in April and expect to reach the Canadian Border in early October before the heavy snow falls.

The trail follows the highest portion of the Sierra Nevada and Cascade Range, which parallel the Pacific Ocean by 100 to 150 miles . The Pacific Crest Trail is 2,650 miles long and ranges in elevation from just above sea level at the Oregon-Washington border to 13,153 feet at Forester Pass in the Sierra Nevada. The route passes through 25 national forests and 7 national parks.

It was designated a National Scenic Trail in 1968, although it was not officially completed until 1993. The PCT was conceived by Clinton C. Clarke in 1932; however it was not given official status until the National Trails System Act of 1968.

The route is mostly through National Forest and—where possible—protected wilderness. The trail avoids civilization, and covers scenic and pristine mountainous terrain with few roads.

On this day we drove about a half hour out of town into the Cascades with Debra, Larry and Norm the Wonder Dawg and did a six mile loop on the PCT trail…in the rain as it turned out. Even though the weather has been sunny here for weeks, fall is in the air, and if you are not willing to hike in the mist and the rain in Oregon, you might as well not hike.

Dressed properly,( thank you REI), hiking in the rain among the beautiful trees and mountain vistas is a wonderful experience. We often times stopped, took in the views, and listened to the rain gently falling. Occasionally we ran into the serious hikers who were heading North into the higher mountains. Their destination was only three to four weeks away.

Now a word about Norm the Wonder Dawg. Norm is Larry's and Debra's young English Spaniel. Norm is a real sweetheart. He has an enormous amount of energy and is lots of fun to have accompany us on hikes. Norm's only problem, he is a natural magnet for brush, mud, water, virtually anything that is close to his low-slung chassis. I made the mistake of taking our new and very clean Prius on this trip today and needless to say, there was little we could do about Norm returning to the car with half of the hike terrain attached to his body. No harm though. The towels placed in the back seat worked pretty well and the car cleaned up easily after we returned.

Back to the trail,we met a young man from Germany on the PCT (see pic) who was hiking alone after temporarily abandoning his companions in Northern California. He had recently sold his software business in Mainz and was taking time off for this five month adventure deciding what to do next. What an experience! The PCT is a magnet for Europeans like this man but there is also a story told of an 80 year old woman who covered its entirety in a pair of Keds. Well, perhaps several pairs of Keds.

Writing tonight, I think about our trip back to Scottsdale zipping along the Eastern Slope of the Sierra at 60MPH and looking up to see Mount Whitney. I will think about our young German friend, a his companions, and the lucky few with the stamina and fortitude to tackle the PCT and summit this magnificent peak. Who knows, maybe someday I will find a bunch of crazy guys (or women) and do the Sierra part of the PCT myself. Any takers out there? Dream on Shel?