The Mountains are Alive

injured

2012-01-31T18:01:00.000-08:00

A month ago I was backcountry skiing on a beautiful sunny day at Turnagain Pass. On the last run of the day, the sun went behind the clouds, and the light became incredibly flat. I couldn't tell where the mountains ended and the sky began. I couldn't see more than a few hundred feet in front of me, but we had to ski back to the car. About half way down the "Corner-Pocket" chute, the flat light caused me to lose my balance, I got vertigo, became dizzy mid-turn, and with my brain confused about which way was up, I over-corrected in my turn, fell gently on my back, and hyper-extended my left knee.

I got back up and skied out. There was very little pain, and no swelling. I saw a doctor the next morning and had x-rays done, and he told me I had "tweaked" my knee, and that nothing was torn. He suggested I take a two week break from skiing. I has a strong limp for a few days, but no real pain.

A few days later, I went Orthopedic Physicians of Anchorage and had a second set of x-rays taken , and a specialist poked and prodded and pulled on my knee. He said it felt really stable, and sent me to three weeks of physical therapy.

Six days after the injury, a physical therapist had me riding a stationary bike to regain full motion in the knee. He twisted and pulled on the knee, and told me it felt strong. No signs of swelling or knee instability. At his direction, I started an aggressive regime of cycling, ellipticals, and leg-presses.

Two weeks after injury, I felt great. No limping. No swelling. No pain. Only a dull soreness every now and then. I rented a snow bike and rode 3 days in a row, totaling 5 hours of riding, and the knee felt great.

Three weeks after injury, my physical therapist told me I was back to full movement in the knee, and now I just needed to rebuild strength slowly on my own. I went Telemark Skiing at Arctic Valley the next day. The knee felt great. No pain. No instability. I carved big telemark turns all afternoon and had fun.

Four weeks after injury, I decided to go in for an MRI to confirm that my knee is good to go. The image clearly showed that my Anterior Cruciate Ligament is shredded. My doctor was shocked. My heart dropped, my hopes disappeared, and in two seconds all of my ski/cycle/vacation plans for 2012 went out the window. I am seriously injured. The ACL does not heal or regenerate. It is torn forever.

Oddly, I feel great. The knee still doesn't hurt much. Last weekend I competed in a 2-hour snow bike race, with no problems. I rode a snow bike three days in a row. This is a really major injury, and I should be feeling more instability, but somehow the rest of my ligaments are compensating for the missing ACL. I just don't know how long to trust my knee with a key component missing.

I now have a key decision to make - to operate or not to operate. ACL replacement surgery can be done in 2 hours, and has a really high success rate. The new ACL will provide additional stability to my knee and prevent further injury, but surgery is really painful and will put me out of work for 7-10 days. I'll be on crutches for up to six weeks, followed by three months in a hinged knee brace. Six months until I can resume active sports. One year until I can resume skiing again.

I've been thinking a lot this week about one of the Dalai Lama's rules for living, "Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck." I do not think that a major knee injury is a stroke of luck, but already it is leading me to new things. For example, since I can't ski, last week I competed in my first snow bike race, and it was awesome. I've started volunteering on Sundays at local bike co-op, making friends that may become new summer riding partners. I'm learning how to solve the Rubik's Cube. I'm spending more time reading, playing with pets, and talking with my girlfriend. I'm watching birds out the window, hoping to learn more of their names when the spring migration starts. I'm hoping to ride a dogsled soon, and do more ice-skating before the operation. Maybe I'll take up flying model airplanes again while I recover.

Bottom line - my ski season is over, but my life is still going full bore.
My #1 priority now is to heal.

Bubo scandiacus

2012-01-30T11:52:00.000-08:00

Got hypnotized by this Snowy Owl last weekend at the Anchorage Museum of Natural Science.

dreaming

2012-01-23T10:14:00.000-08:00

I'm thinking seriously about cycling 853 miles from Deadhorse to Anchorage this summer.

under pressure

2012-01-20T17:21:00.000-08:00

A high pressure system has been sitting on Anchorage for over a week now, providing calm weather, blue skies, bright sunshine, no new snow, and bitter cold temperatures. I've been walking to work everyday in -5°F to -10°F temperatures. After three weeks of physical therapy, my knee is healing well, and I'm going to try some easy skiing this Saturday. I'm hoping for a good sunny weekend to get my legs back under me, and then a huge, monstrous, mind-bending powder dump.

fat bikes

2012-01-19T17:15:00.000-08:00

Last weekend I rented a Salsa Mukluk fat-tire snow bike, and spent a few days cruising around on the local mountain bike trails - about 5 hrs of riding spread over 3 days. Snow bikes have gained a lot of popularity in Anchorage over the last couple years. and with good reason. These bikes have special frames that accommodate ~3.8" tires running ~5psi of pressure, allowing the rider to float over soft snow. Most of the Anchorage's mountain bike trails get ridden hard enough by locals that the snow gets packed down into a ~12-18" wide path that flows well and can be a lot of fun to ride. Generally done at relatively slow speeds, snow biking requires excellent balance. If your front tire wavers more than an inch or two from the packed trail, it sinks like a rock two or three feet into the soft snow, and the rider goes down fairly quickly. It isn't easy to get back up either, which can make snow biking pretty miserable in less-than-optimal trail conditions. Of the three days I rode last weekend, the first day was miserable, and then the second two days were awesome.

I went out with my buddy Ben for a few hours of snow riding around the Campbell Track airstrip.
The temperature was reported to be -15°F. It was really cold, so we pedaled hard to keep warm.

We got there right as a snow bike race was ending. The racecourse we packed down and really fast.

I'm not biting the bullet yet to buy a snow bike, but I just might have to add one to my stable next winter.

steel is real

2012-01-16T17:00:00.000-08:00

Two weeks ago I dropped by Anchorage's local bike co-op for an afternoon to start overhauling my old 1977 Raleigh Grand Prix. Stripping the frame bare, I discovered a number of problems, including rust inside the frame and heavy pitting under the bottom bracket that make the old frame a bit sketchy to overhaul and restore. A few days later, someone donated this 64cm 1984 Trek 610, and I have decided to claim it as my own. The wheels and tires were toast, and there a few dings and scratches on the frame, but it still has the original Shimano 600 groupset, which is really exciting. Everything is straight and true, and my Ultegra/Open-Pro wheelset fits perfectly in the dropouts. With Reynolds 531CS tubing, the new bike is surprisingly light. The only bummer is that I have to wait four more months to see how it rides.

(1984 brochure image is from http://vintage-trek.com/ )

clockwork

2012-01-13T18:32:00.000-08:00

“My approach is the opposite tack to simplifying the science,” says Drew Berry. “Rather than dumbing it down, I set out to show the audience exactly what the scientists are talking about. By building accurate visualizations founded on real scientific data, the animations come alive of their own accord, engage the audience, and go a long way towards explaining what the science is about. The science is rich, detailed and fascinating, and if you can watch it in action you will intuitively get to know how it works.”

Magnum 12.30.11

2011-12-31T20:32:00.000-08:00

With blue skies, sunshine, deep snow, and low avalanche dager, yesterday was a magnificent day.

The temperature was -1°F when traveling in direct sunlight, dropping down to -10°F in the shadows.

We took an early run off the south flank of Magnum, carving through the deepest snow of the season. Next we climbed in shadow up the headwall between Magnum and Corn Biscuit, fighting the bitter cold. From the saddle, we ditched skis and booted along a knife-edge ridge, wishing we had brought ice axes, in search of south-facing opportunities off the peak. Each of us chose chute and dropped in.

We each dropped in off the ridge and threaded a narrow lines between the rocks.

With each turn, a critical wedge of snow accumulates and then engulfs the skis.

They are agents of erosion, rhythmically creating their own mass wasting events.

The skier just holds on for the ride.

Jump-turns lead to parallel turns, and when the slope opens up, the telemark turn gets its chance to shine, cutting wide fresh arcs across the open slope as clouds of powder billow up overhead.

This is as good as it gets.

Unfortunately, about ten minutes after this video was taken the sun abruptly disappeared behind a wall of clouds, sending our whole world into imperceptible shades of grey. The light was so bad we couldn't tell up from down, or fresh snow from tracked snow. Skiing back towards the car, I got disoriented in the flat light, lost my balance, fell awkwardly, and sprained my left knee. My doctor checked it out this morning, and there are no tears or fractures, but I'm off skis for a few weeks while the knee repairs itself. Luckily I just started a total overhaul of my vintage steel road bike, so for the next few weeks I'll be sandblasting, painting, degreasing, re-assembling, and tuning up my machine for next summer. I have faith that this knee injury won't take too long to heal.
I hope to be skiing again by the end of January.

gaggy

2011-12-26T18:28:00.000-08:00

My extended family gave up on real Christmas gifts a long time ago, opting instead to exchange the worst gifts imaginable. Whoopee cushions, drier lint, used thongs, plastic pants from the seventies, scabs, boogers, billy-bob teeth, yard sale junk, multicolored wigs, glasses of all shapes and sizes, plastic kazoos, pantyhose, etc. In our family we give gag gifts, and somehow it seems to make Christmas twice as memorable and infinitely more fun.

Corn Biscuit 12.16.11

2011-12-19T22:26:00.000-08:00

We got hit by a blizzard last week. It was awesome.

The Chugach Mountains accumulated over fifty inches of snow.

After waiting a few days for the new crystals to bond to the old, we set out in search of deep snow.

Skinning through the glades and hills. Kick-stepping up the steeper slopes.

Higher into the alpine realm.

Balanced precariously on the ridge they call Corn Biscuit, we decide on a North-facing line.

A forty-five degree chute that opens up into a glacial valley and onto a recessional moraine below.

Nearly three hours of climbing, and then a few glorious minutes of transcendent bliss.

I can't wait until it snows again.

Kickstep Mountain

2011-12-12T08:30:00.000-08:00

I've got my eye on this one. It is magnificent. Want to ski it sometime this winter.
Kickstep Mountain. 4,660 ft. Chugach National Forest.

60° 45' N. 149° 6' W.

earthlust

2011-12-11T20:00:00.000-08:00

Sunburst Powder Day 11.02.11

2011-12-09T14:03:00.001-08:00

It was raining pretty hard at 9am when we met in a grocery store parking lot on the south side of town.
We all really just wanted to go back to bed, but no one wanted to look like a wuss, so we piled three pairs of skis and split-board into a little hatchback and drove an hour and a half in the rain along the Turnagain Arm to the Kenai Peninsula. Weather looked terrible. Avalanche danger seemed ominous. Couldn't even see the mountains. For some reason, we pressed on. As the little car muscled up the grade to Turnagain Pass, the rain turned to sleet, which turned to snow. Big, giant, billowing flakes of snow. We parked at a little pull out below Sunburst, and starting gearing up for the day. We could barely see a quarter mile. All the mountain summits were in the clouds. The snow looked wet and heavy. We went around and checked that all the avalanche beacons were transmitting strong. They were. Shovels, proves, skins, helmets, goggles, water. Boot up. Strap in. By now it was snowing really hard. We took off single file and started into the mountains. I was skeptical.

About an hour in, I looked up. The summit was vaguely visible above us. We exchanged words of hope. As we kept climbing and temperature dropped, the the fresh snow we were breaking through gradually transitioned from heavy glue to dense butter to powdery sugar. The clouds suddenly broke behind us, and in a matter of fifteen minutes a brisk wind ripped a big blue hole in the clouds and the sun came out to greet us. We broke out in cries of jubilation. We dug a snow pit halfway up the skin track, revealing four feet of total snow pack. A foot of fresh was sitting on older decomposing grains, with a well bonded interface. Our compression test and shear test proved quite stable, and we didn't see any noticeable weak layers or abrupt grain size variations. There is nothing that beats a foot of fresh, light, backcountry powder on an un-tracked slope under bluebird skies in Alaska. Jubilation turned to excited anticipation.

Bombing back down was beautiful, fast, effortless, crisp, and flowing.

Peter and I were both on our new DPS skis. He's rocking the Lotus 120 and I'm on the Wailer 112RP. Straight-lining on these skis makes me feel like a smooth flat stone skipping across a calm pond, and then with a drop of a knee and shift of the hips, they dig in with perfect side-cut and camber, slicing like a warm knife through soft butter, carving the slope into a series of perfectly linked arcs. The best thing about skiing good, light powder is that feeling of complete weightlessness between each turn, and DPS skis are specifically designed to lengthen that feeling as the skier floats from turn to turn. This snow was the perfect canvas to showcase these types of boards. Naturally, we skinned up for a second run.

After spooning our tracks on the top, we all found it easier to open up, let loose, and really get creative on the lower part of the mountain, laying hard into wide turns and kicking up huge rooster tails.

With these short Alaska days, we skied sunup to sundown and only got in to runs, but they were both phenomenal and well worth the day of climbing.

Eventually, we descended back into the fog, through a frosty grove, and back to the car.

Another great day of exploration in the Alaska backcountry.

Arctic Valley 12.03.11

2011-12-07T14:20:00.000-08:00

I love Arctic Valley. a lot.

People have been using tow ropes to ski this mountain since the early 40's.

Over the years it has been operated by the military, by the ski club, and privately. Our local Anchorage Ski Club grabbed hold of the infrastructure a few years ago, and now it runs as a nonprofit ski area. This weekend I joined the club and went up for their pre-opening members-only ski day.

There were maybe a dozen people skiing on the entire mountain, so there was never a line at the lift.

Visibility was poor for the first hour or two, but later in the afternoon the fog lifted, the wind died down a bit, and I found myself skiing fresh line after fresh line all afternoon. There are a lot of rocks at Arctic Valley, but the snow tends to accumulate really well in the bowls. Sticking to the fall line becomes a survival technique. For those who are willing to brave the weather and the terrain, skiing Arctic Valley can be pure bliss.

Alaskans have been skiing here uninterrupted for the past 70 years.
The full history of Arctic Valley can be found here:

http://www.alsap.org/ArcticValley/ArcticValley.htm

Peak Three 11.25.11

2011-12-02T08:47:00.001-08:00

One of my favorite slopes is right on the edge of town.

Drive up an old dirt road until there is too much snow to go any further.

Park the truck. Put on skis and skins. Start climbing.

From the summit you can see at least four active volcanoes across the Cook Inlet.

and out on the Northern horizon, Denali towers over everything.

With these short winter days, you can ski sunrise to sunset and only make two or three runs,

but the quality drastically outweighs the quantity.

in the clouds

2011-11-28T15:43:00.001-08:00

A heavy inversion set in this weekend, and dense clouds rolled in over the frozen waters of the Turnagain Arm to slam the Chugach Mtns. Alyeska accumulated over a foot of new snow. Riding the lifts for the first time this season, giant snowflakes blew around like feathers, investigating all open jacket pockets, ear canals, and jacket hoods. Sneaky little gifts from nature. After several socked-in runs on the lower mountain with my girlfriend, I ventured to the top of Chair 6 and discovered a bright, warm, blue-skied world above the clouds. With the sun shining over fresh, new, light snow, I couldn't help but take a few extra runs before heading back down into the weather. At the end of the day, I rode the tram up above the clouds, and skied one last run. The sun was setting above the clouds, and Mount Alyeska was on fire with a beautiful red alpenglow. Simply magnificent.

Tin Can 11.20.11

2011-11-25T13:00:00.000-08:00

Skinning up Tin Can on a Sunday afternoon, Peter stops to evaluate the terrain.

A storm is rolling in off Prince William Sound. The sun progressively disappears.

At the base of the clouds, we pull skis and proceed kick-stepping up the ridge.

Couloirs drop off precipitously on the north aspects, while snowy bowls roll off to the southwest.

Days like these are exactly why we moved to Alaska.

There is nothing quite so wonderful as experiencing the freedom of the hills.

Sunburst 11.19.11

2011-11-21T22:46:00.001-08:00

At the head of the Sunburst Cirque, Peter and I drink tea and stare out at summit of Tin Can.

And the blanketed slopes of Pastoral beg us to ski further into the backcountry.

We skin higher from the wind scoured saddle, in search of preserved powder

Stopping again near the summit of Sunburst, keeping company with the weather station.

Pressing on along the ridge line, our skis chatter across the mild sastrugi.

Finally, in the mid afternoon, we find our line and drop in.
The snow is soft and fast, so we skin back up and ski it again.
A successful day in the backcountry.

numb toes

2011-11-21T22:39:00.001-08:00

winter cycling on the coastal trail.

11.18.11

Sunrise at 9:45am

2011-11-15T10:51:00.001-08:00

Today we have 7 hrs of sunlight. 37 days till the winter solstice. Here comes the darkness.

independence mine

2011-11-14T19:46:00.001-08:00

Katie and I went cross-country skiing around an old abandoned gold mine last weekend up in the Talkeetna Mtns. It is going to take a few more weeks to get my ski legs back under me, but I'm grateful that I'll get to experience another Alaska winter.

ISS

2011-11-14T14:42:00.001-08:00

dump

2011-11-13T20:55:00.001-08:00

Anchorage has received over 18 inches of new snow in the last week. I'm pretty excited about it.

labyrinth

2011-11-09T19:36:00.001-08:00

we build and we build and we build. it is part of being alive. thousands of little ants digging away, producing contorted, convoluted passageways that connect one place to another. the whole system evolves constantly. new paths, new roads. some come and others go. though at first disgusted by the disorganization, pollution, and chaos of the system, i have since come to deeply respect the cities that humans have created. the city is a living reflection of the generations of people that overlap in time and space. american cities are far from unplanned - it is just that we plan them only a little bit at a time. the result is a place that is far larger than any one person or era or sub-culture. i may not like it, but this is what humans do, and it is really quite impressive.

midnight in austin

2011-11-07T20:26:00.000-08:00

where peter pan's put-put golf course is the hippest thing around

pilgrimage brewing

2011-11-03T20:37:00.000-07:00

I write this from a fancy hotel in suburban Houston, where I've been staying for the past week. I'll be here a week longer before I fly away, and I intend to make the most of every moment while I'm here. I rode my mountain bike hard in Alaska the last day before coming here - the morning was cold, and the frost was firm, but the riding was good and it brought a smile to my face. The first thing I did in Houston was run to a local bike shop and pick up a rental bike. My buddy Ryan lives here, and we spent all afternoon last Sunday blasting out a 28mile ride along the Anthills trail system in the energy corridor of west Houston. Monday we did it again after work. Tuesday I ran downtown with friends in the Heights, past hip cafes and bars, though revitalized neighborhoods, together gazing at the beautiful skyline set against the purple evening sky. Last night I was sore, so Vinyasa Yoga was the ticket - a conscious pursuit of a peaceful mind and a loose body. Tonight was back to the trails again, this time alone, mountain biking, at a good pace, my pace, exploring the undeveloped woods along the bayou. And tonight I'm chilling in the hotel, reading a book by Ernest Hemingway, and thinking about the future. My life recently has come to feel stifled - stuck perhaps is the better term. I am a wanderer - a natural born explorer - but in the interest of paying off old debts I've temporarily settled down to appease creditors and fill the kitty with some cash. I hope not to tarry here long. Its not that I think working is a bad thing - quite the contrary. And it's not that I regret learning a trade - I love rocks just as much as ever, and I hope to live out a career as a geologist of some kind. The problem is that I feel like I'm finding myself on a path that isn't mine. My whole life I've gone to schools, joined programs, followed instructions, and worked pretty standard jobs. But there is this deep longing in my soul for a good long wander across this planet. Man was not made to work all of his life away. It is not just about what you can make and take in this world, but what you can experience, what you can learn, and where you may find yourself when you come around the next corner. I find myself at present looking into my future in a cubicle life, and I see myself rich, overworked, alone, and in the end - potentially very unhappy. I am in Houston this week learning how to explore for oil and gas and environments all over the world. I'm receiving a proprietary education from experienced top-tier geologists, but all I can think about is how I want to wander the beaches under the chalk cliffs of Dover, walk the Camino de Santiago, ride a bike across Japan, ski the Haute Route in the Alps, learn to surf on a Pacific island, climb the mountains of Fjordland in New Zealand, hang glide over the Cumberland Plateau, walk to the base of Everest, climb Denali, and in the end - love one woman for the rest of my life, inspire young men and women to pursue science, hunt a moose and eat it, ride a motorcycle across the Utah desert, map faults and folds in rocks on a yearly basis, and live a life of constant communion with the Earth.

I'm having trouble reconciling the deep, passionate dreams of my soul with the opportunities that I currently see in front of me, and I can't decide if I'm a fool for wanting to leave and wander, or if I'm a fool for not dropping everything right now and moving to India.

In 6 months I will be debt free. I'm simultaneously excited and terrified about what will happen to me when I'm finally free of monetary chains.

Either way, I think a good long pilgrimage is in my future. I just hope I'm still open minded enough to see the opportunity when it arises.

I wish to live free and suck out all of the marrow of life. We were born to explore.

Crow Pass

2011-10-23T14:18:00.000-07:00

Two friends and I got out this weekend for our first day in the Alaska backcountry this winter.

On the slopes above Crow Pass, our snow pit revealed 1.4 meters of uniform, internally consistent, 4-finger, non-metamorphosed, non-faceted snowpack. We saw no evidence of water vapor diffusion or depth hoar formation, and only a minor presence of any weak layering. These are all signs of slope stability and limited avalanche danger.

So we skinned up a beautiful 38 degree slope, ate a little food, and took three awesome ski runs.

I'm looking forward to another wonderful ski season in Alaska.

The snow is falling hard. Winter has arrived.

simple man

2011-10-16T21:50:00.001-07:00

susitna

2011-10-14T12:21:00.000-07:00

The sleeping lady. Her hair falling away to the left. Feet draped off to the right.

She is well known and adored by all Alaskans.

rediscovered

2011-10-13T09:00:00.000-07:00

Batter my heart, three-personed God; for You
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurped town, to another due,
Labor to admit you, but O, to no end;
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captivated, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betrothed unto your enemy.
Divorce me, untie or break that knot again;
Take me to You, imprison me, for I,
Except You enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except You ravish me.

Jonne Donne

1633

CX

2011-10-12T21:57:00.000-07:00

If a ten year old designed a bike race, cyclocross would be it. Blasting across fields, through every mud puddle and sand pit we can find, along off-camber slopes, down slick embankments and up steep rocky slopes. Cyclocross is a 50-minute sprint race involving multiple loops of a short off-road track, generally combining a multitude of awkward terrain elements. The Arctic Cyclocross Series just wrapped up this weekend for the fall season. I raced as much as I could, and it was fantastic. Pushing me just past my anaerobic threshold, it brings a third-grader grin to my face every time.

autumnal

2011-10-10T21:50:00.000-07:00

The last four weeks have been crisp, golden, and magnificent.

As cool weather arrives and the winter darkness steadily closes in, an eagerness is cultivated.

Every sunny day may be the last. Every ray of warm sunshine is to be cherished.

A hard frost hit yesterday. Leaves fell from the trees en masse.

Yet new trails are still waiting to be ridden. Sun lit glades still waiting to be discovered.

Autumn has abruptly come to a close. It has been the most vivid and beautiful fall I can remember.

Soon the bike will be cleaned, lubricated, and left to wait.

until spring

Fire Island Lookout

2011-10-08T23:32:00.000-07:00

Rambling along the bluffs on the edge of town this afternoon, we bumped into a lady sitting solo in this tiny shack on the westernmost hill in Anchorage. Her job is to sit there and watch for Beluga whales. The land in the distance is Fire Island. At extremely low tides, brave Alaskans run across dry ground to the island, and back again. A group in town is working to turn the undeveloped island into a 11-turbine wind farm. The Fire Island Wind farm hopes to be complete late next year, and will provide power for ~6,000 homes in Anchorage. Diversification of our energy sources is the key to long term stability in Alaska. I'm glad they're setting a baseline environmental survey. Belugas need all the help they can get.

Lost Lake

2011-10-02T22:01:00.000-07:00

Some days in Alaska life doesn't feel real. Sometimes the scenery is just too perfect.

Last weekend two buddies and I rode the 5-hour loop of Lost Lake. It was simply spectacular.

Peter had a camera strapped to his handlebars:

Footage is all by Peter Morris. Music is is How You Will Meet Your End by A.A. Bondy.

making pickles this evening

2011-10-02T19:32:00.000-07:00

cause our greenhouse put out a lot of cucumbers this year.

radio

2011-10-01T23:34:00.000-07:00

Stumbled upon this video this evening. Very interesting.

Cool Hunting Video: Chances With Wolves from Cool Hunting on Vimeo.

In our latest video we hung out with childhood friends and DJs Chances with Wolves to learn about the musical philosophy behind their radio show. We also went with the dynamic trio that makes up the group, Kenan Juska, Kray and Mikey Palms, to see exactly how they tear up the airwaves once a week on East Village Radio.

Bike MS

2011-09-23T10:00:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago several friends and I tore down our personal records and rode 170miles in 2 days.

There is nothing quite like a bunch of dudes in matching spandex keepin' it corporate.

The first day was a grueling 110miles through the Kenai Mountains, with over 4,000ft of climbing.

The second day was a windy 60mi sprint along the Turnagain Arm of the Cook Inlet.

Total ride time was 9 1/2 hours, totaling 5,711 ft of climbing and descending.

Next year I'm hoping to kill this record by riding in the Soggy Bottom 100 and the Fireweed.

habitat

2011-09-22T00:04:00.000-07:00

I have always had a child-like fascination with heavy construction equipment.

Dump trucks, bulldozers, cranes, excavators, etc.

The sheer power of these tools always intimidates and excites me.

Last week on a volunteer project, the project foreman had me standing on the roof all afternoon, guiding the crane operator as he lifted ceiling joists into place.

It was so awesome. I couldn't stop grinning for a several days afterwards.

motor bike

2011-09-20T23:54:00.000-07:00

one of my buddies let me take a ride on his motor bike last week.

48cc 2-stroke motor strapped on a $30 mountain bike. This thing is a lot of fun to ride.

I've got half a mind to build one myself.

Red-capped Manakin

2011-09-18T18:56:00.000-07:00

Leighton Reid pointed me to this one earlier this week. I love it:

amish

2011-09-17T07:07:00.000-07:00

Last month I was home for a week with my family, and we spent a lot of time cruising around the backroads of south-central Tennessee. The deeper you get, the more casual life becomes.

i rather enjoy that slower pace of life. just may have to return there someday.

Point Woronzof

2011-09-16T18:16:00.000-07:00

nestled between the easternmost Aleutian volcanoes and a mighty accretionary prism

the cook inlet is a deep depression flooded by the sea

it is home to fisherman, whales, sailors, salmon, barges, seals, and otters

living by the sea can be a magnificent experience

passion

2011-09-15T19:01:00.000-07:00

it's awesome that obsession can become profession.

i get paid to geek out about sand. when I sit back and think about it, that is pretty cool.

winter is just around the corner

2011-09-09T00:10:00.000-07:00

and i couldn't be more excited about the impending snow.

Alaska State Fair

2011-09-07T00:12:00.000-07:00

simplest. ride. ever.

They claim you experience four G's when the Gravitron gets up to full speed.

After a day of watching acrobats, hugging turkeys, chasing alpacas, petting prize sheep, eating turkey legs, buying rocks, riding the Ferris Wheel, playing carnival games, and gazing at Kangaroos, it only seems fitting to end the night in a centrifuge.

dip net

2011-08-28T20:39:00.000-07:00

every summer millions of sockeye salmon come charging out of the ocean into alaska's rivers

and every summer thousands of hungry alaskans stand waiting on the shores of the Kenai river

each person holds a dip net five feet in diameter while standing in ice cold water for hours on end

Last month a buddy and I brought home 45 lbs of salmon after a single morning of fishing.

Alaska is the land of plenty.

air walking

2011-08-27T11:41:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty sure this is going to be the next sport I learn. Maybe next summer if I can pull it off.

The Arctic Air Walkers Paragliding Club up at Hatcher Pass, AK.

08.12.2011

octopus

2011-08-26T15:06:00.000-07:00

masters of camouflage is here

alaska range

2011-08-25T15:35:00.000-07:00

skimming down the Talkeetna river in search of silver salmon

08.16.2011

winner creek

2011-08-24T17:30:00.000-07:00

greywacke alluvial outwash and wildflowers. girdwood, ak.

07.24.2011

O'Malley

2011-08-23T17:23:00.000-07:00

Looking down on Williwaw Lakes from O'Malley Peak.

07.16.2011

westchester lagoon

2011-08-22T17:15:00.000-07:00

local

2011-08-18T08:13:00.000-07:00

our garden is producing full force right now.

lettuce, spinach, green onions, cucumbers, snap peas, and raspberries are all coming in right now,

but the carrots, bush beans, and tomatoes still need a little more time.

it is nice to have dinner growing in the backyard

I'm learning to respect the unquestionable supremacy of nature.

circus

2011-08-15T23:10:00.000-07:00

sunday ramble

2011-08-15T19:06:00.000-07:00

inevitably the pavement will end, the road disintegrating into a dirt path

and the path disappears into the brambles, merging seamlessly into the mountainside

summertime

2011-08-11T21:11:00.000-07:00

zero gravity

2011-08-06T21:58:00.000-07:00

hipstamatic

2011-08-04T12:29:00.000-07:00

The iPhone has become a legitimate tool of photojournalism.

Check out Balazs Gardi's photo essay: The War in Hipstamatic

photos by Balazs Gardi

http://www.foreignpolicy.com/articles/2011/07/25/the_war_in_hipstamatic?page=0,0

moab

2011-08-03T12:16:00.000-07:00

old Kyle Kaiser climbing the cable

sequence stratigraphy

2011-08-01T12:14:00.000-07:00

As mountains rise, basins deepen. Relative sea level rises and falls as accommodation space fluctuates with the interplay between climate and tectonics. If you go to the right place on the margin of the marine system, you'll find a wildly complex set of stacked sandstones and shales, all interfingering in X-Y space. Rivers, channels, barforms, deltas, shoreface sands. Avulsion, storm deposits, milankovitch cycles, hyperpicnal flows. Earth systems are anything but gradual and uniform. Catastrophe is the norm (why did Noah have to ruin catastrophism for so long!?). I used to think all of these earth surface processes were wrapped up in such chaos that order could never be pulled out, but turns out that by analyzing grain size changes, shale distributions, stacking patterns, and trace fossils, a myriad of patterns emerge. Clinoforms, parasequences, transgressive sequences, flooding surfaces. All of these exist on first, second, third, and fourth order scales. Clinoforms within clinoforms within clinoforms. So many cleaning-upward cycles it'll make your head spin. With enough data, time, and computing power, you can figure out exactly how the mountain-river-basin system evolved, in painstaking detail. I recently went on a 2-week trip to Utah to learn about sequence stratigraphy. We traced out the margins of the Panther Tongue, counted parasequences, and scoured sandstone outcrops for signs of ancient life. You can read all the books and journals you want, but it isn't until you get out in the field and starting chewing on siltstones that you'll begin to truly understand sequence stratigraphy. these are some of the coolest rocks on the planet.

(photo near Price, UT)

home alone

2011-07-31T11:47:00.000-07:00

it is just just me and the felines this week.

they are good companions, but they won't come mountain biking with me, which is a bummer.

(photo by NKRoyerTheDestroyer)

ski jump

2011-07-29T23:37:00.000-07:00

I ducked the chain and climbed up the local ski jumping tower last night.

Zooming down this thing on skis sounds like it would be a lot of fun.

But soaring through the air over the steep slope below might make me pee my pants.

mechanical. beautiful.

2011-07-27T11:03:00.000-07:00

There is something hypnotic about certain machines.

Helicopters, bulldozers, roller coasters, motorcycles, power tools.

To me the modern mountain bike is the greatest of them all.

Efficient. Elegant. Fast. Aerobic. Freeing. Euphoric.

Rolling over logs, through rushing streams, up steep, rocky mountainsides.

Blasting through the woods, leaning hard into corners, riding wheelies through rock gardens.

When the brain is running solely on reaction, it must clear itself of all thoughts

except those relating to the experience at hand. Bicycles demand a present mind.

The beauty of the machine is trumped only by the experience of actually using it.

The gentlemen of Santa Cruz Bicycles understand the phenomenon between man and machine.

They work tirelessly to build cycles that provide not just speed, but transcendence.

When they released the TallBoy this last spring, it blew the mountain bike community away.

A carbon fiber 29er that climbs effortlessly, is nimble in the twisties, and descends like a bomb.

It is their masterpiece.

Mine will be here in two weeks.

Couldn't be more excited.

(photos by Santa Cruz)

legend

2011-07-25T23:26:00.000-07:00

de Havilland DHC-2 Beaver

2011-07-23T21:13:00.000-07:00

cruising north from talkeetna

with the entire family on board

the gentle talkeetna river meanders in from the smaller mountains

but a braided river indicates a sediment source much larger

and the braids end at a terminal wall of rock and ice

and the ice stretches onward for over forty miles

the mountains along its margins are merely foothills

laminar flow. medial moraines. these terms suddenly gain palpable validity

a mile and half wide, and almost four thousand feet thick.

the ruth glacier bodes of something even larger. something massive.

Denali. 20,327ft above sea level. the most majestic peak in North America.

ghost

2011-07-21T10:51:00.000-07:00

Atlantis landed this morning for the last time. The shuttle program is over.

Lets hope the innovation of private industry has the power to pick up where NASA left off.

( photo by Pierre Ducharme / Reuters)

Leopard-Trek

2011-07-19T00:00:00.000-07:00

I believe that Andy Schleck will wear the yellow jersey into Paris this weekend. This is the year.

independence

2011-07-17T22:21:00.000-07:00

There ain't much I love more than a good July 4th kite festival on the park strip of downtown Anchorage.

rabbit/suicide

2011-07-15T23:10:00.000-07:00

Today was a good day. Woke up on time, watched the Schleck brothers dominate the Pyrenees in the Tour de France, had some work done on my truck, ordered a new bike from Santa Cruz, ate lunch, and then took a long afternoon mountain bike ride. I cruised from the edge of town up a long, steep path along Rabbit Creek to the Rabbit Lakes. Pictured here are the North and South Suicide Peaks at the head Rabbit and McHugh creeks. The old railroad workers thought that these peaks looked like certain death, hence the names. It turns out that both of them are fairly straightforward nontechnical climbs. Tomorrow we're waking up early to climb O'Malley Peak. I've been spying it from town for over a year now. Time to get up there and receive its glory.

Ultimate Pony

2011-07-14T19:39:00.000-07:00

couldn't drag me away...

dry suits and pfd's

2011-07-13T22:31:00.000-07:00

Earlier this week my brother and I floated down Six Mile creek near Hope, AK.

With class IV/V rapids and forty degree water, falling out of the raft is not a trivial affair.

The swim test was mandatory.

civil engineering

2011-07-02T14:40:00.000-07:00

twenty-six regular straws, two balloons, a roll of tape, two trash bags, and 45 minutes of company time

it supported two bottles of water during a simulated earthquake

apparently this is what professional geologists get paid to do

i'm not complaining

Canada from the stratosphere

2011-07-01T17:10:00.000-07:00

i've been travelling a lot recently, which means i've accrued a lot of frequent flier miles and i've had a lot of time to ogle our planet from the windows of commercial flights at 30,000ft.

Last week, the coastal range of British Columbia was the most beautiful thing I've ever been fortunate enough to see from an airplane window.

seriously. look at this place. it is amazing. literally unbelievable.

Next week my family and I will fly around Denali in a de Havilland Beaver.

With good weather, it may easily be the most beautiful flight of our lives.

Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros

2011-07-01T16:36:00.000-07:00

good music can sometimes be a rarity in anchorage,

but when these folks come to town you just can't wipe the smile off your face.

http://edwardsharpeandthemagneticzeros.com/

Spring Corn

2011-04-22T10:52:00.000-07:00

The snow is no longer falling. Winter is over. The sun doesn't go down until almost 10pm. Daily temperatures are climbing up around 50F, and the snow has entered the corn cycle. Every day it melts into a slurry of tiny round balls, and every night it freezes solid. Some people put away their skis and switch to other sports. Others remain steadfast lovers of the snow. If you time it just right, there is a window of time around four in the afternoon when the snow melts to the perfect level and the skiing is absolutely fabulous. Spring skiing usually keeps up until June. Some say that this is the best skiing of the year.

bike season is immenent

2011-04-13T22:42:00.000-07:00

I'm still in 100% ski mode at the moment, but that doesn't stop the fact that this is just around the corner:

Merry Marmot Festival

2011-04-08T10:56:00.000-07:00

Last weekend was the 2011 Merry Marmot Festival at Arctic Valley

The grand finale of the festival was a downhill dummy launch contest.

We built a Where's Waldo dummy, and launched him down the hill.

He didn't weigh enough to get good air off the jump, but we had a good time anyway.

post-equinox bliss

2011-04-07T00:02:00.000-07:00

one of our local ski areas stays closed during the week,

but it has been snowing hard for the past couple days

so tonight a friend and I skinned up a couple times and took a couple runs after work.

the sun has returned to us here in alaska, and the snow is still falling,

which means we can ski powder late into the evening.

the low setting sun was ringed by complete full-spectrum halo of beautiful colors.

and the snow was excellent.

sunset

2011-03-23T12:35:00.000-07:00

springtime means that sunlight is finally returning to our lives,

paving the way for evening bike rides and sunset rambles.

there is no place quite so beautiful as the cook inlet at the end of a good day.

Banff Mtn Film Festival

2011-03-16T14:41:00.000-07:00

The BMFF World Tour is coming up to Anchorage this weekend. I'm pretty pumped about it:

clawhammer

2011-03-14T22:18:00.000-07:00

i stumbled upon this video tonight in a folder of old bookmarks (this is not me playing):

lately I've been getting back into playing the banjo in the evenings after dinner. i've been playing the banjo for about 9 years now, and what I get out of banjo music has changed a lot over time. in high school i loved the bluegrass three-finger technique. in college i discovered old-timey frailing. lately I've been getting interested in more of the technical melodic claw-hammer technique. it is really hard, but when you start to get it, it is absolutely beautiful.

tour of anchorage

2011-03-09T22:38:00.001-08:00

Last Sunday I skied the 24th annual Tour of Anchorage cross-country ski race.
They released us in waves based on our skill level and style.

I skied in the 25k freestyle mens division.

Over 1,500 people competed.

The trails were fast and the competition was fit, but the sun was out and we had sweeping views of the Alaska, Chugach, and Talkeetna Ranges, plus Denali, Foraker, and volcanoes across the Cook Inlet.

I skied 15.5 miles in 1 hour and 42 minutes.

It was a very good day.

goodbye Discovery

2011-03-09T18:26:00.000-08:00

rest in peace. it was a good run.

images courtesy of NASA.

iditarod

2011-03-07T18:40:00.001-08:00

Katie and I went downtown on Saturday to watch the ceremonial start of the 2011 Iditarod.

The sound of hundreds upon hundreds of yapping dogs echoed throughout the city.

Those dogs will run 1,161 miles in less than two weeks. This is an awesome race.

bluebird

2011-02-20T11:06:00.000-08:00

Arctic Valley Powder Day

02.19.11

lava

2011-02-18T10:20:00.000-08:00

sunspots

2011-02-17T14:02:00.000-08:00

A huge coronal mass ejection occurred on our sun two days ago, sending a stampede of ions directly for our planet. Anchorage may have a spectacular show of Aurora Borealis tonight, if the clear weather holds up through the night. I'll certainly be out watching.

Images courtesy of NASA.

alpine snow

2011-02-13T19:48:00.001-08:00

   Today I discovered the Alaska I've always dreamed of. The morning started slow, with a lazy Sunday sleep-in, the cats purring at our feet and the alarm clocks turned off. For the first time in months, I was awakened by the rising of the sun. Sleepy morning, gentle snow falling outside our window, two pots of Earl Grey tea, french toast, biscuits, homemade raspberry jam, pack the truck, kiss the girl, warm hat, 4wd, cruise out of town, and the day begins.
   The ceiling was low, and the whole town was wrapped in that haze of cloudy fog that always accompanies the morning snowfall. As I turned off the Glenn Hwy and up Arctic Valley road, I was praying for any semblance of visibility. I passed two old women running up the side of the mountain, and cruised carefully to the Arctic Valley ski area.
   There were, literally, less than 20 cars in the parking lot. Only one of the three lifts was running (an old-school 1960's T-bar), and I could barely see the top of the mountain. I couldn't see a single skier on the mountain.
   Into the lodge, purchase ski ticket, new ski boots buckled down, ski straps clipped, bases waxed, edges filed, mentally prepared, physically ready, the ski day begins.
   The snow was variable, my new boots were too tight, and the visibility was poor. I stumbled my way through my first three runs. I was seriously questioning my tele skills.
   Just after noon, I ran into a ski patroller that I know through an Avalanche 2 course I've been taking. His name is Harry, he is obsessed with Arctic Valley, and he offered to show me his favorite powder stash. We rode the lift up, turned north, and traversed hard across the mountain, chattering across the bed surface of a recent in-bounds avalanche, and onto a southwestern face. "The north winds have been wind-loading this mountain all week, so this slope should be good," he said to me through the hazy fog. There was no hesitation as he dropped in and carved clean, fresh powder turns. I followed suit, dropping a knee, letting myself go, and I found my rhythm. The turns were quick, soft, and solitary.
   "Oh, my god", I thought, "there are less than twenty skiers on this entire mountain."
   From then on, my technique felt clean, pure, and on point. Run after run, I felt stronger, better balanced, and more focused. Around 2pm, the wind picked up, my beard froze solid, and I went inside for lunch.

   When I came back out half an hour later, the wind had stopped, and the skies were starting to clear. I took the lift up, and was immediately blown away. The few people on the mountain were whooping and hollering with joy, myself included, for the brief wind had rearranged all the snow on the mountain, filling in yesterday's tracks to thicken the powder stashes. The snow became fast, effortless, euphoric, and just at that moment - the clouds rolled away, the sky turned blue, the sun shone brightly on our faces, and the mountain became the perfect playground. Lines that had been hidden all morning by fog were now exposed in full sunlight, untracked, begging to be skied.
   My first two runs were straight down the center of an area called Ptarmigan. With swift, bouncing turns I charged downwards. Realizing the snow had changed, I decided to head north towards the gully. The T-Bar slingshot my body into motion, launching my skis northwards, and I pulled on my pole straps as I gained momentum and quickly scouted a line.
   There, on a little roll over, untracked snow. Ripe. Ready. Mine. I pumped up and down to ensure my footing, I dropped my left knee, and began one of the longest, purest, and most arcuate turns I've ever made. The pressure built up quickly beneath my boards, and I leaned hard into the turn, emerging with a bounce to the left into a second giant slalom turn. My skis were on rails, leading me down the mountain in a hypnotic flow. One powerful turn gave way to the next, and the next, and the next, until I bottomed out in the valley and shushed back to the lift. There is no release like the endorphin rush of skiing fast lines under blue skies in the magnificent Chugach Mountains. I spooned the same tracks three runs in a row until a group of ski patrollers caught on, joined the fun, and tracked out the remainder of the clandestine stash.

I learned to ski in the dense woods of Wyoming and northern Colorado, where the terrain necessitates quick decisions and tight turns, but this weekend I learned to explore a new landscape - one where nearly everything we ski is above treeline. Here there are no forests of giant firs to slow the winds, thicken the powder, or command the rhythm of our turns. There are only wide open expanses of jagged, windswept peaks and variable pockets of marvelous snow. In Alaska, tree skiing is becoming a thing of my past, but it is making way for a future of big mountain lines, alpine exploration, and the seamless integration of nordic and freeride.

mush!

2011-01-26T12:19:00.000-08:00

I saw this photo hanging on a wall in downtown Anchorage last weekend.

I think it pretty well sums up the Alaskan spirit.

The 2011 Iditarod begins March 5th.

the truth

2011-01-24T11:20:00.000-08:00

undercity

2011-01-02T10:55:00.000-08:00

The urge to explore has been one of the key ideals that I've cherished throughout my entire life. From childhood wanderings around the neighborhood, to college mountain bike rides around the Sewanee domain, to three months of solo travel in the mountains of South America, and now a new life of exploration in Alaska - finding new wonders and exploring the nooks and crannies of the city and surrounding wilderness is something I've always loved to do.

Steve Duncan, a Ph.D. student at Columbia University, takes exploration to an entirely different level. This guy is seriously awesome. Check it out:

UNDERCITY from Andrew Wonder on Vimeo.

More information here:
http://www.npr.org/2011/01/02/132482428/into-the-tunnels-exploring-the-underside-of-nyc?ft=1&f=1001
and here:
http://www.undercity.org/

hexagonal

2010-12-30T18:10:00.000-08:00

Sometimes the sheer perfection of this world can be incomprehensible and overwhelming.

These photomicrographs of snowflakes were produced by a scanning electron microscope at the Beltsville Agricultural Research Center in Beltsville, Maryland.

Science is so cool.

To see a whole series of these photos at Wired Science, click here.

squirrel

2010-12-29T20:28:00.000-08:00

I've gotten over the fact that I will never have the guts to fly a wingsuit, but I sure do love watching other people fly. It is amazing how quickly the technology is evolving.

Wingsuit Basejumping - The Need 4 Speed: The Art of Flight from Phoenix Fly on Vimeo.

deep freeze

2010-12-28T23:53:00.000-08:00

Beard froze today while skate skiing on the Chester Creek trail here in Anchorage.

artistic liberties

2010-12-28T09:00:00.000-08:00

five years ago, just after christmas break, I dropped all my money on a dozen colors of paint, drove up to the cumberland plateau, and spent a solid seven days painting the geologic history of the earth as a 30' mural. There were 11 earths, each representing a period of geologic time from Cambrian to present. In a quick visual sweep, you could watch Pangea form and then break apart. Alongside those continents, creatures emerged and went extinct: echinoderms, trilobites, armored fish, amphibians, reptiles, dinosaurs, birds, flowering plants, fungi, humans, and robots. There were buried canyons, plutons, angular unconformities, volcanoes, stars, monoclines, anticlines, faults, and true love. While painting, I had a steady stream of friends who came an went, contributing to the wall, and it was one of the most fulfilling weeks of my college career. The mural was never "finished", and that was exactly the way I intended it. Since then, others have painted over parts of the original. It continues to evolve. the goal was never to have a final product. the goal was simply to paint.

slime

2010-12-26T14:51:00.000-08:00

They coat the wings with alternating blasts of orange and green. The two chemicals combine to form a gelatinous green film that oozes slowly along the wing and then bubbles off into the air as we take flight. All this green slime makes me think of the ghostbusters. Anything to prevent ice.

alabama christmas

2010-12-25T08:58:00.000-08:00

They may not always have a full set of teeth,

but Alabama folks sure know how to celebrate the holidays.

MamaLou Christmas

2010-12-21T07:39:00.000-08:00

Saturday we had forty-five relatives over to my parents' house for the annual James family Christmas party. Four generations were present, the eldest of which is my grandmother, who is affectionately known by her sixteen grandchildren and seventeen great grandchildren as MamaLou. I hid a time-lapse camera on the mantle above the fireplace, and was able to capture three and a half hours of feasting, singing, dancing, story-telling, banjo-paying, and gag-gift opening. Christmas is the only time each year where the entire family gets together in one room for festivities, and this year it was total chaos. We loved every minute of it:

played a lot of giant chess last week...

2010-12-19T16:53:00.000-08:00

... it is an excellent way to pass the time when you're stuck in Houston.

the euphoric sea of white

2010-12-12T18:30:00.000-08:00

microdot. hatcher pass. talkeetna mountains. alaska.