Boring Holes Through Space/Time, (Western U.S./Summer 2015)

In June, we had our annual flight up to Wenatchee, then Leavenworth, where I backpacked up to Colchuck Lake, featuring Dragontail Peak.  That's Asgard pass just to the left, the entrance to the "Upper Enchantments," (I only made it to the "Lower Enchantments," boo hoo!).

Holy Catballs, it still shocks me to camp so close to spectacular peaks.

YeeGawds, nice, eh?!

Food art for my Brother-in-law Brian's Birthday.

A short weekend work trip down to Orange County, and the Boss allowed Suzanne to go to!  We stayed at the well-positioned Bay View Marriott on the upper Newport Back Bay.

On one of our numerous trips to the Pacific Northwest, a fabulous view of Mt. St. Helens and Mt. Rainier.

Camping at Charbonneau Park on the Snake River, WA.

Having failed once before due to a nasty snow storm, this summer, with somewhat better weather, I made another heroic attempt of Mt. McLoughlin, a "lofty" 9, 495'.

Hooray!  Victory is MINE!

Otherworldly environs of Mt. McLoughlin, OR.

Emerald Bay, South Lake Tahoe

Thanks to Jen for this deliciously calm respite from the storm of life, on the lagoon in magical Stinson Beach

While visiting Stinson Beach, over the years, I've often gazed longingly up to the hills above, and FINALLY, this time we went and discovered the killer West Ridgecrest Blvd.  Can't wait to take the S2K!

Of course, the Mighty MDX is a good car also...

Suzanne absolutely delights in the water-sports at the lagoon, and her delight delights ME!

Once again, this year I was able to attend three of the "Open Rehearsals" of the Cabrillo Festival of Contemporary Music,  catching almost all 15 of the pieces they performed in concert. That's We Wei on the left, about to run through the orchestra's first try at "The Color Yellow," a concerto featuring the Chinese Mouth Organ!  (an instrument I've never even heard of).  Like every single rehearsal I've ever heard Marin Alsop conduct, it was indescribably wonderful--you gotta go next year!

For years I've yearned to clean our backyard and garage, so right around 3:30, one afternoon a couple weeks back, we called a professional hauler, and then worked our cabooses off, hauling it all out to the driveway before his arrival at 7:00 P.M. that evening.  Just like that, poof!  Swanson Selectric Service (as well as a lot of other stuff) was virtually dissolved.

YAHOO!!! POOL PARTY!  Lynn and Steve, and her parents Carol and Vic are the BEST FRIKKIN' HOSTS!

Happy Revelers

After mimicking marine mammals the previous day, we kayaked and canoed out from Moss Landing, to live among them for awhile.

40 years ago, I arrived at UCSC in a station wagon with my family, who dropped me off, with a few possessions, and I began a new life.  It took me 13 years to finish my Undergraduate College career, and in that time I built a tree-house, and a "burrow," an underground room.  From 1980-2013, for 33 years, I repaired IBM typewriters, all over campus.  Last week, I rode my bicycle throughout the campus, exploring new buildings, and reliving memories in all the old spots.

The students haven't returned from summer break, but many of my old friends were still around.

I found a nice oak tree, right on the edge of the great meadow below McHenry Library, and spent the night, much as I had many times over the past 40 years.  Who needs a dorm, when there are a million spots to sleep?

So much fauna amidst the flora--I had encounters with a mature buck, (who bounded right over me in the woods), what looked like a wolf-husky mix, running after the buck, several wild turkeys, and many, many deer.  Zeus Bless, I love Santa Cruz!

How to eat

 Suzanne and I eat a mostly paleo diet.  The Great Nom Nom Paleo explains it much more efficiently than I could:

Our primary source of dietary information is this outstanding book, which I cannot recommend highly enough:

http://www.amazon.com/It-Starts-With-Food-Unexpected/dp/1628600543

I've been strongly influenced by two pivotal New York Times stories, "Is Sugar Toxic?" from 2011:

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/04/17/magazine/mag-17Sugar-t.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0

The short answer is "yes," but the nebulous issue is dosage.  If you keep it under 40 lbs./year, you're probably OK, but if you go over the American average of 90 lbs./year, you're NOT OK.

 and clear back in 2002, "What if it's all been a big fat lie?"

http://www.nytimes.com/2002/07/07/magazine/what-if-it-s-all-been-a-big-fat-lie.html?scp=1&sq=gary%20taubes%20and%20fat&st=cse

2013 Lamentations of a Gear Queen

We've all been there, acquisition-fever takes over, that burning yearning for a shiny new bike, car, house, trekking poles, locking carabiner, whatever, and we're consumed by our consumption!  I confess, back when this camping/backpacking fetish began, I had a raging case of REItis (backpacker gear craving).  It was non-stop greed/lust/desire for one must-have item after another.  Naturally, I talked to my broker, and he told me backpacking equipment was the most secure investment nowadays, so I bought enough packs, sleeping bags, boots, head-lights, stoves, and water-filters to fill a closet.  After all this manic consumption, inconceivably, (seriously, this is the MOST amazing part), there came a time when I barely cast a glance at the Cabela's and REI catalogues, because I frikkin' HAD EVERYTHING!  A kind of peace came over me, acquisition-fever subsided. 

A boy & his GEAR.

In my life, few inanimate objects have inspired the kind of trust and security, which, after thorough, objective experimentation, I've come to possess for my Big Agnes "Storm King" sleeping bag.  It keeps me cozy down to 0ºF.  Time after time, my toes and fingers have been screaming with frosty pain, but experience has brought me confidence and calm:  I know, for SURE, as soon as I climb in, Agnes will ease the pain away.  That's her on the left, the big blue and black one.  Other notables:  I'm holding my incomparable iPhone and InReach satellite extender, while the fabulous Mont-Bell Down-Hugger #5 is the little one-pound purple number on the right.  

Big Agnes paired with Truly Transcendent gear, the Hennessy Hammock tent, (Pear Lake, King's Canyon), which has produced similar security, even reverence, over years of totally trustworthy service.  It was bizarre at first, with a distinct acclimatization period, but eventually, my best sleep inevitably occurs in the crazy hammock-tent.  Weirder still to realize that such deep sleep occurs  within easy reach of my fiercest adversaries, the puma, the chupacabra, and the bear, (curious that I sleep so well in such proximity to their teeth).

After years of wisely camping solo, I foolishly took a trip to Arroyo Seco with good friends Lindsey, Erik and Eric, and saw how other people did this stuff.  It was impressive watching Erik cook gourmet food out in the wild, with pots and fresh veggies, but ironically, it SHOVED me in the opposite direction;  acquisition-fever returned, the race towards "ultra-light" was ON.  Pots, stoves, CUT-OFF toothbrushes!?!?  Why does ANYONE need a toothbrush when they're CAMPING?  I even read an article a few days ago by a zealous ultra-light backpacker eschewing TOILET PAPER!  He had multiple brilliant options:  wooly lamb's ear plant, snow, ROCKS!  He wasn't kidding.  In fact, I stopped backpacking at the age of 18 for one reason:  PAIN.  Fortunately, we live in a time of revolutionary change in materials and engineering, and I'm now carrying a pack, sometimes as light as 15 POUNDS!  Super light, waterproof boots, insect-repelling clothing, trekking poles, and light packs have transformed my trail experience of pain and drudgery, to twinkle-toed skipping through the woods.  Hmmn, maybe I'm taking this "queen" thing too far!

CAUTION!  Viewing this photo may result in enlightenment.

A few months ago I realized that in Baja, all I really need is bug and snake protection.  I typed "bug tent" into Google, and a few hours of internet-research-later, voila!  the new Yama Mountain Gear bug tent, only 10 ounces!  My good ol' Tarptent Moment was 34 oz. so this is a humongous weight reduction.  Not only that, now I can see the scenery through the No-See-Um netting, and no sweltering heat on sunny days.  I found this ideal rock perch a month ago, perfectly flat and level, right on the edge of a beautiful river-gorge.  Since it IS rock, my stakes didn't work.  I adapted with rock-anchors, and as you can see, my trekking poles have become dual-purpose tools, doubling as tent-poles.

Unfortunately, smack in the middle of celebrating the "gear-success" of the bug tent, my BRAND NEW dagburn, carn-sarn, ratsin-frackin Therm-a-Rest X-Therm, (the unanimously praised, very expensive sleeping pad), was gradually deflating under me.  Youch!  I was laying on solid ROCK!  Unlike all my previous Therm-a-Rest pads, (combo foam/air inflation), this new generation, while outrageously light and compact, relies 100% on air inflation.  Luckily, it was a slow leak, requiring only a few refills during the night.  More good news:  REI takes back EVERYTHING no questions asked, so I switched to the much bulkier closed-cell Sol-Lite, the yellow-silver pad you can see below.  Though significantly LESS comfortable than inflatable pads, it is so COMFORTING knowing I can toss it onto rough terrain with nary a care--SECURITY and CONFIDENCE, the raison d'etre of good gear.

Victory is MINE!  My 5-year, multi-stage project is complete.  Around 100' up, where my Eno DoubleNest hammock has been successfully hung between two redwoods.  We're not talkin' eight feet up, or 30', 50', or even a silly "portaledge" hung from one branch, NO, this is a PROPER hammock, strung between two redwood trees, one hundred feet above the forest floor.  A place where a man can BREATH, move his elbows around, soak in a MILLION DOLLAR view of the Monterey Bay, FOR FREE!  (not counting the untold hundreds spent on GEAR).

Surely, this is it, my midlife triumph, the closest I could possibly come to re-living my teenage treehouse, and it MUST be the most important story in this email, so why the hell did I bury the lead?  Simple, because I'm an addict:  gear-fixation is all-pervasive.  So, big deal, 100' up a tree, got it.  Now let's get to ogling that delicious GEAR, RIGHT?!  Mmmm, yum, CARABINERS!

It sure didn't FEEL like a victory.  In fact, I was basically a fly in a spider web.  When I lowered myself into the sleeping bag, still wearing my climbing harness, tied into two separate ropes to two separate branches, I'd been climbing up and down, back and forth for 6 hours.  DADBURNIT!  My frikkin' sleeping bag was bunched up underneath my back, but as I tried to pull it up around my head, my fingers began locking up, my arms, shoulders, and back started cramping into painful knots.  (Speaking of knots, just relish those gorgeous eight-on-a-bight and blake's-hitch knots, we're talking the ne plus ultra of elegant simplicity, eliminating the need for mechanical ascenders, the "less-is-more" of good gear!).

I was scared and trapped in my self-inflicted, cold, painful straight-jacket.  There were two simple things I needed to accomplish:  slowly, carefully pull the bag out from under me, (which took an endless HOUR, no exaggeration), and calm my panicked mind. Using the relatively new habit pattern of moment-to-moment mindful breathing, the old, entrenched habit pattern of fear was soon overcome;  incredibly, I got a full night's sleep!  Though just a baby at the technique of Vipasana, I am extremely thankful to Gunaratana and Buddha for this powerful and tangible victory, one I value far more than the little treehouse project.  Plus, thanks to my excellent equipment, I was somehow able to climb down the next day, HOORAY!  

I'm pretty sure everyone will agree that the solution to avoiding a repeat of this harrowing problem is newer and better gear!  No worries;  I bought it weeks ago, and, like me, it is panting anxiously at the chance to get back up there and make it right!

Just like my good ol' treehouse, this hammock is almost impossible to spot from the ground, even when you're staring right at it.  Heck NO, I don't leave this precious rope out;  it goes in a dry-bag, stashed in a "secret hiding place."

The remainder of this email is strictly intended for serious gear-heads. You've been warned.  It gets pretty silly.  As if it wasn't already.

The anti-climax:  two weeks later, Icicle Ridge, WA. 

Gear mix & match:   two weeks earlier, I accidentally left my hammock-tent tarp 100' up in my Eno hammock, so for this trip, I brought along the tarp-half of my new Yama Mountain Gear Stratiform Shelter.  It was made to fit over the Bug-tent, not this hammock-tent, but it did keep me dry through some nasty rains.  Thanks Gen!

Powerhouse REI in Bend, OR.  Please don't tell my wife.  I haven't been to work in WEEKS!  I realized that all these ridiculous adventures keep me too far away from the REAL source of great gear;  now I spend each day lounging languorously around REI stores, where I can view and fondle all the wonderful stuff to my heart's content.  Sublime!

Turns out, gear is protection from pain.  Almost every item I carry is a barrier preventing suffering from bugs, rocks, bears, sun, thirst, hunger, rain, cold, etc.  In the acquisition phase, it is always a compromise between money and quality.  In the functional stage, ironically, the more things I carry, the heavier my pack, the more it hurts.  Every single trip requires a balancing act to pare down my load to the absolute minimum of clothing, shelter, food, and water, so my dogs won't be barking at me too much, too soon.  I've learned to live with a little discomfort.  The goal is to reduce the pain to a low roar, so I can open my brain to all the JOY of the wild.  

Thanks for joining me on the journey.  Here are a few more photos:

https://picasaweb.google.com/107161978117607741609/GearQueen

The best wingsuit video I've seen to date.  Absolutely, POSITIVELY watch it FULL SCREEN! 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oaMTSOI1Zk4

Acknowledgements:  I credit Erik Grabow for teaching me the phrase "gear queen;"  Ed Kendig for the phrase "acquisition fever;" and Brett Crockett for the phrase "REItis."  With clever friends, who needs brains?

I am blessed beyond all measure by two of the best Fathers a boy could have, my dear Father-In-Law Kayo, and my very own Dear Dad--I am proud and honored to be your son.

love, mas

© Mark Swanson 2013

2012 Outwitting the Chupacabra

Back in the good old days, to protect themselves rich people built castles, while poor, imaginative, SCARED people constructed cliff dwellings like Mesa Verde.  When I first became responsible for my own housing in Santa Cruz, I was inspired by the security and romance portrayed in "Swiss Family Robinson," which inevitably led to an 85' treehouse on what is now Gray Whale Ranch State Park.  Obviously, all of my movements required an extreme level of precision, but I was assured of no unwanted guests, either insect, human, or OTHER.  The gloriously expansive views of the Monterey Bay and the absence of angry landlords weren't so bad either.    

© Joal Morris Illustration 1977

Through the miracle of his mind's eye, Joal transported himself to this vantage point out in space.   One more miracle, both of those long-haired hippies are yours truly.

In modern times, when I'm yammering on about camping in my hammock tent, some people seem perplexed by my desire to get higher up in the tree for safety.  In due course, it dawned on me that most folks don't spend much time in the woods at night, alone.  I believe that getting up into trees is primal.  Just think, when I sleep in the hammock tent, my sweet, fat caboose is hanging right OUT there, precisely AT the jaw level of an adult mountain lion!  If only I could get 10-15 feet up, I'd be out of reach of most lions and bears, and another 50-60 feet would put me above virtually all Yetis, axe-murderers, and Chupacabras!

Look at him and then tell me:  three feet off the ground, or SIXTY? 

For the last four years, I've been scouring a nearby area for a spot to re-create a version of my old treehouse.  During most of that time my plan was to purchase the Treeboat Hammock:

Unlike my current lightweight hammock, the lines are 4,000 lb. test.  Advantages:  4.6 lbs, and a mere $300. Disadvantages:  it requires at least two trees, no big deal at 3 feet off the ground, but it IS a big deal at 60-80'.

Option 2, the portaledge

Advantages:   single-point suspension, so I only need to climb ONE tree.  Disadvantages:  13 lbs., $650.

Big surprise, I economized and built my own.  I know, I know, supposedly this whole deal is about safety and security, but $650?!?   REI had a real nice cot, on sale for $55, "because I'm worth it."  Then I commenced with a lot of hack-sawing, grinding and drilling, trying to get all the parts to do a VERY different job from supporting a body a couple feet off the ground.

Unfortunately, when suspended from ropes, the twisting forces exceeded my weak "engineering," and I had to return to the drawing board.  For countless hours I pored through innumerable metal parts at the hardware store, before lurching back to the only material I know anything about:  wood.

With an old 2x4, I was able to craft two end-supports.

Then came even MORE countless hours of dim-witted staring and "thinking."  Eventually, I figured out a way to make some of the old cot-legs stabilize the middle as well.

Hey Mikey!  She LIKES it, and more importantly, it WORKS!  Yahoo!

Hampered by the omnipresence of poison oak in Coastal Central California, as well as other projects and obligations, last summer my multi-year search for the ideal tree came to an end with the discovery of an absolutely perfect ridge-line, FILLED with promising trees, any of which would have stellar views.  On Monday, an entire year later, I was finally able to capitalize on it.  

Like my old treehouse, this tree had some small, dead trees around the base, enabling me to reach the lowest sturdy branches, so I could easily climb unaided to a decent height.

Getting my huge, heavy pack, with the folded up portaledge, TOOLS, food and water up to 60 feet was a nasty chore, (not to mention the 2 hour hike/climb to the base of the tree).  But the real challenge was assembling the ersatz platform.  It was extremely difficult. Thank Zeus, I didn't drop anything.

My view looking up from my "treehouse."

As a young man of 19, I was a wee bit amazed that the original treehouse design actually WORKED.  As a "mature" man of 55, I simply cannot BELIEVE that the homebuilt fake portaledge worked.  

The facts:  I slept on a flimsy cot, suspended from a Redwood branch 60 feet above the forest floor with a spectacular view of the Monterey Bay, and survived un-harmed by any mythical creatures.  

The feelings:  fear, intense excitement, relief, exhaustion, and elation.  I frikkin' DID IT!  After literally years, I am deeply grateful to have made this crazy dream (imagined a thousand different times and ways) a reality.

love, mas

p.s. I'm not completely insane.  Even though it felt very sketchy climbing onto the cot to sleep all night, I DID tie myself separately onto the tree with two different ropes and a climbing harness, so the platform could have utterly disintegrated, and I would have suffered little more than a bruise:

Two short videos from last month's project, my swan song to Crossfit, as I transition gradually from brutal intensity, to the kinder, gentler practice of Yoga:

Pullup with 150 lbs.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=824PhyumKow&feature=plcp

Deadlift with 330 lbs.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IfDZnIJWUck&feature=plcp

© Mark Swanson 2012 

TALES of Typewriter Terror