smokerblog

Skinny Kid with a Funny Name

Something else the networks missed last night: one of the most inspirational political speeches I have ever heard. Already, the keynote address of the Democratic National Convention delivered by Barack Obama is becoming the stuff of legend.

Obama is currently running unopposed for the Illinois seat in the US Senate. Highly intelligent and charismatic with seemingly unlimited potential, he is already being referred to by many as the first minority President of the US. This would likely not happen until 2012 (his first Senate term would expire in 2010), but let's not get ahead of ourselves...

Don't take my word for it though, see the speech for yourself.

Fear Factor: DNC Edition

On Saturday, Jim Lehrer blasted Dan Rather, Tom Brokaw, and Peter Jennings for their networks' skimpy coverage of the 2004 Democratic National Convention. The networks defend themselves with charges that the conventions are too scripted and not sufficiently newsworthy.

So let's see what tonight's alternatives are:

Oh look! One of the shows is not a rerun, let's check the synopsis:

For Love or Money:

The five remaining men find their artistic talents put to the test as they compete for a date with Rachel by painting her portrait; one man is eliminated.

Now, that's sure to top the headlines tomorrow...

Chicken Inferno

Every year a gathering of city slickers and Potter County expatriates takes place in a secluded hilltop location in Northern Pennsylvania for a long weekend of fun and revelry that has come to be known as the Chicken Inferno. Over the course of a long weekend in this idyllic setting, beer and food are consumed; horseshoes are tossed; old friendships are renewed; new friendships are created; and, the pièce de résistance, a giant wooden chicken is constructed and burned (burning picture stolen from Mike).

The beast awaits its fate.

This year's chicken was the largest and most well-constructed chicken to-date. If the rain that had persistently fallen throughout the weekend had become the deluge that many were fearing, we could have used the chicken as an ark. Instead, the rain cleared up just in time for a triumphant climax to the weekend.

The current (but soon-to-be defunct) website of the chicken documents the Inferno in more detail. A new website will be announced soon. For now, check out Mike's great post about the chicken and other Potter County birds.

Rockies Vacation - Day 3, PM

After succumbing to wind and hail on the saddle between Mts. Chapin and Chiquita, we decide to try something a little tamer and less open to the elements. So we thought. We headed down Trail Ridge Road across the Continental Divide (woohoo!) to the Colorado River Trailhead for a four-mile hike to the site of a former mining town, Lulu City.

It is about a four mile hike to the site of the ghost town and after eating a light lunch and taking in more water, we hit the trail in earnest. It was a mostly level hike through pine forest along the valley floor with occassional spectacular views of the Never Summer Mountain Range whenever we emerged from under the pines. We passed all manner of hikers, from afternoon strollers in shorts and t-shirts to amateur hikers like us in jeans and sweatshirts to the serious folks decked out in windproof North Face jackets and using those ski-pole-like walking sticks.

About 3 miles out, we were wishing we had North Face jackets of our own. The thunder we had heard rumbling as we left the Chapin Creek valley had been growing louder and more ominous and suddenly we were caught in a hailstorm. Now, for us Easterners, hail typically takes the form of tiny ice pellets that melt almost as soon as they land. Here, the hail was as big as garden peas and falling thick. Poor Kari was crying, "Ouch! Ouch!" as we scrambled for cover.

But wait, we were in the forest, right? Well, yes, but this was a lodgepole pine forest. Lodgepole pines get their name because they grow narrow and straight like poles, meaning they provide just about zero protection from an overhead onslaught of hail. We finally huddled in the leeward side of the thickest stand of pines we could find and waited out the storm.

Eventually, the hail turned into a light drizzle and we continued on the ghost town. When we arrived, we didn't see much evidence of a settlement, but the open valley on either side of the river did offer nice views of the surrounding mountains. It looked like the perfect place to set up a cabin and live the life of a mountain man.

But since we aren't mountain men, we decided that it was time to turn back. Wet and tired, we trudged the four miles back to the trailhead and the car. Stopping to snap a few pictures from the overlooks, we worked our way back out of the park the way we had come in, headed back to the motel and the waiting hot tub. We figured we had hiked about 14-15 miles that day and entranced as we were, we had to call it a day and say goodbye to the Rocky Mountains (for this year).

Rockies Vacation - Day 3, AM

We arose early the next day after spending the night in a quaint little motel in Boulder, hoping to get an early start on a day of hiking in Rocky Mountain National Park. After stocking up on water, power bars, and other foodstuffs, we hit the road and arrived at the Beaver Meadows entrance in Estes Park at around 7 AM.

Rocky Mountain N.P. has a multitude of trails at every level of hiking difficulty. Our plan was to take a summit trail in the morning before the ubiquitous afternoon thunderstorms hit (the last place you want to be in a lightning storm is on the top of a mountain). We chose to hike the Chapin Pass trail to the tops of three peaks: Mt. Chapin, Mt. Chiquita, and Mt. Ypsilon.

My first mistake was that we missed the turn for the Old Fall River Road that would take us to the Chapin Pass trailhead. By the time I realized our mistake, we had driven well into the park, so we decided to hop out near the highest point on the Trail Ridge Road and explore the short Rock Cut trail. The view was beautiful as we hiked up a narrow trail through the alpine tundra toward the top of the ridge stopping frequently to snap pictures (and catch our breath).

My second mistake was to underestimate mountaintop weather. The sun was shining, but it was cold and the wind was blowing hard. I had several layers on, but nothing windproof and no hat. That was stupid. It was probably no more than 40 degrees at the top of the ridge with a heavy wind chill.

So, we turned around, headed back down the mountain and out of the park to the visitor center, where we bought wool hats and gloves. Then we made our way back up the Old Fall River Road, a narrow gravel road with multiple switchbacks where, again, I was happy to have some backwoods driving experience. We finally reached the Chapin Pass trailhead at around 10 AM, slurped down some water, had a brief snack and headed up the mountain clad in our new hats and gloves. We met some fellow hikers on the way, one solitary gentleman from SC and a couple from WI (they were all much more appropriately equipped then we). We decided to stick close together and compare observations on the weather since clouds were beginning to build up over the Divide.

The trail was easy to follow except a couple places where we nearly lost the trail in a patch of snow. After an hour or more of hiking, we reached the point where the trail split, one path leading toward the summit of Mt. Chapin and the other in direction and Mt. Chiquita. This was the point when the wind really started blowing. I was in the lead so I kept moving forward toward the saddle between Mts. Chapin and Chiquita while the rest of the group conferred at the split in the trail.

When I got to the saddle I was hit by two blasts. One was when the when the wind really, really started to blow, and the other was my amazement at the view laid out before me. Standing in the saddle I could look down into the beautiful Alpine valley around the Chapin Creek to the west and down a broad valley toward Horseshoe Park in the east. Kari, afraid that the wind might blow me over the edge, worked her way over to me and held on as a counterbalance against the wind while I snapped as many pictures as my frozen hands would allow. The rest of the group joined us for pictures and just as we were finishing, we began to get pelted by light hail.

As we looked down into the Chapin Creek valley, we could see rain and hail falling in sheets as a smallish rain cloud worked it's way across the valley almost at our eye level. It was strange to be looking down at the weather. We decided to turn back without attempting to climb any of the summits. As we climbed back down, the weather cleared briefly and in retrospect, we decided we could have at least made Mt. Chapin, but then we heard thunder rumbling in the distance and decided when travelling in the mountains, it is better to be safe than sorry.

Reverse Graffiti

NPR has a story about a British street artist who creates graffiti by removing dirt from public surfaces. Leeds officials aren't sure what to do with him, since he isn't exactly defacing public property...he's just selectively cleaning.

Rockies Vacation - Day 2

After another late breakfast, we headed for Colorado and some real mountain hiking. As we drove through the North Platte River Valley, we began to understand not only the hardships the pioneers must have faced, but also the boredom of trekking through the same monotonous landscape (beautiful, but monotonous) day in and day out. You know how early movies or cheesy tv commercials simulate motion by painting a few trees and clouds on a long canvas that's looped around a reel and run backwards while actors jog in place in the foreground? Well, you could do the same thing to simulate the I-25 landscape by painting sagebrush and cows and the occasional "Fireworks!" billboard with a few mountains and buttes in the distance. And then let the reel turn for a few hours.

We finally arrived in Fort Collins, CO, turned off the highway and headed up State Route 14 through Poudre Canyon. This was a cool drive. It was a long and winding road between steep canyon walls and we were beginning to doubt that we would ever get to the trailhead we were aiming for, but after an hour we crossed the Continental Divide (woohoo!) and turned onto the narrow dirt road toward the Lake Agnes trailhead. Now, if I had not grown up in a place like Potter County, I might have been daunted taking our Chevy Malibu rental up this "road" to the trailhead. Instead, we arrived without incident, parked between an SUV and a Jeep, opened the car doors and beheld a beautiful Alpine valley ringed with snow-capped mountains.

After a potty break in the aromatic outhouse, we began hiking up the trail. Then I had to stop. Of course, the air was thin, but I was surprised by how winded I was after only a few hundred yards of brisk walking. So we resumed walking at a more leisurely and comfortable pace up a fairly steep but well-maintained path until we came over a ridge and beheld beautiful Lake Agnes.

This crystal clear mountain lake was the perfect introduction to the Rocky Mountains for us. Surrounded by Mt. Richtofen, Mt. Mahler, and the Nohku Crags, with a small, tree-covered rock island in the center, this was the epitome of a secluded Alpine lake. We wandered around the lake while I snapped B&W pictures from every angle. Unfortunately, like idiots, we'd (that would be me, actually) left the digital camera in the car, so I don't have any pictures to post yet. Our hike here only left us aching for more.

Rockies Vacation - Day 1

Technically, our first day of vacation was mostly spent in the airport and the second day was the day of the wedding, but I'm starting with the day after since this was the first chance Kari and I had to really explore our surroundings. We started exploring around noon, having eaten a late and hearty breakfast with the bride & groom and the bride's family. Our first stop was the National Historic Trails Interpretive center. This is a first-rate, although relatively small museum, but packed with information and statistics on the great western migration of the mid 1800's.

Apparently, four of the great migratory trails followed the North Platte River and made their way through Casper before diverging just west of the present day city. The Oregon Trail, Mormon Pioneer Trail, California Trail and the Pony Express Trail all followed this well-established path. I had always heard about the hardships of life on the trail, but this museum really brought home the bravery and strength of will and sacrifice necessary to make the journey.

After soaking up the pioneer spirit, we drove across the valley and up Casper Mountain anxious for our first taste of fresh mountain air. We were probably at an elevation somewhere between 8000 and 8500 ft. when we pulled into the small parking lot at the Crimson Dawn Museum. This museum is really the mostly fully preserved home of Neal Forsling, a Missouri woman who moved to the tiny mountain cabin in 1929 and surrounded herself with a virtual fairy-world of her own design. She invented stories of various forest witches for the delight of neighboring children and devised a celebration held each year on Midsummer's Eve, a a tradition the is followed to this day. We wandered around her forest shrines and ended our walk on the mountainside, breathing the aromas of sagebrush and pine and admiring the view of the surrounding mountains.

A Terminal Condition

Kari and I recently returned from a lovely three-state vacation (five-state, if you count airport layovers): we attended Carol & Derek's lovely wedding in Wyoming, hiked in some mountains in Colorado, and visited Kari's parents in North Carolina. All in nine days.

It really was a great vacation, entirely enjoyable and relaxing...except for the very first day. We had planned to fly AirTran for the entire trip, mainly because they offered the best combination of reasonable fares and short layover times. We were going to land in Denver at 10:30 AM and enjoy a leisurely drive to Casper, WY for our friends' wedding on Friday. That, at least, was the plan.

Our flight was scheduled to leave Rochester early at around 6 AM and we got there just in time to get checked in, through security, and to the gate before they sealed up the plane. We settled into our seats anticipating the beginning of our vacation, only to have the captain inform us of an unresolvable difficulty with the plane's computer.

So, off we went, back into the airport where we waited for two hours while a ticket agent desperately tried to find us a connecting flight to Denver. Eventually, we were told we had to wait for a 1:15 PM flight connecting with a United flight out of Baltimore. We landed in Denver at around 7 PM, and by the time we got the rental car we realized that we'd be lucky to make it to our hotel by midnight, about 8 hours later than we'd planned.

We arrived at the hotel parking at 12:01 AM and, while checking in, noticed some drunken hackers playing with the hotel's internet router. We were too travel-fatigued to strike up a conversation with them at that point, but later we found out that they were also wedding guests and had enabled a wireless access node in the hotel for the duration of their stay. That's just one example of what you might find when a statistician and an engineer get married.

I should mention that despite the hassle, AirTran and their staff were very accommodating about the flight delay. We got a free lunch, an apology letter, and two full-fare vouchers for a future flight. So that wasn't so bad. Certainly not as bad as what happened to this guy.