Tips on climbing Mt. Elbert

1. Don't.

On Saturday, we climbed our third Fourteener (the second was Mt. Bierstadt -- maybe I'll throw in our summit picture at the end here). Mt. Elbert, at 14,440 feet, is the tallest mountain in Colorado. It's even the tallest mountain in the Rockies. Hell, it would be the tallest mountain in the lower 48 states were it not for Mt. Whitney (just 65 feet taller, that bitch).

Because the trailhead is at a lower elevation than the other two peaks we've climbed, the overall ascent was higher -- and let me tell you, we felt every bit of it, as we were wearing our crappy $30 hiking shoes that we bought a year ago for our trip to Peru. While we were up there, the wind was strong enough to shake our balance, and it even snowed a couple of times (it was the consistency of Dippin' Dots, which kind of hurts when flung into your face at 40 mph.)

But it was a pretty hike. Since we hit it up late in the season there weren't many people out there, and the ones who were there were all very polite and quiet mountaineer types, unlike the hordes of tools that clog the trails in July and August. We even had the summit to ourselves!

The ascent took around 5 hours, and the descent took nearly that due to the steepness of the mountain, the crappiness of our shoes, and Chris' knee refusing to cooperate.


We were thinking of cramming in one more 14er this season, but after the smacking that we got from Elbert, we think we'll just wait until spring comes around again on the guitar.

Oh, we're so cheerful at 7am. We've been up since 3:30 (hence the puffy eyes) and only got lost once on the way. And yes, in the background there, you can see an aspen turning gold. My, but it's a nice state I live in.

This little guy sat down next to us while we were resting at the treeline (about 12,000 feet). He's actually a good 10 inches tall, and was into sitting on the branch just beside me.

The summit at last. We got our picture taken by the only other people up there, who promptly descended and left it all to us.

This is actually me at the top of Mt. Bierstadt, which we climbed in July. I know they all look the same to you people, but they're unique like snowflakes to Chris and I. Giant, 4,400 meter tall snowflakes made of rock and despair.

Bad Copy of the Day award

As part of my never-ending search to complete the Checklist of Stuff You Apparently Cannot Have a Wedding Without, I've brought you people some of the more cringingly bizarre and ugly corners of wedding-related websites.

Today's no exception. I was poking around some sites that sell headbands and tiaras, and found one that considers itself to be the J. Peterman of the bridal millinery world.

Ice Crystal Cave

It takes only a single ray of sunlight to illuminate the whole cavern. The light dances from one ice crystal to the next; traveling like electric current through carnival lanterns. It becomes a fairy tale kingdom. You can almost see a procession of heartbreakingly beautiful beings approach a diamond throne. A soft voice echoes with an incantation of love, but it's actually water trickling down through fissures in the ice. The ice could crack, and everything could change in a second. It reminds you of how perilous yet precious any moment in life can be. For this reason, you treasure every beautiful minute, especially the time that you spend with your beloved.

What the hell? Am I getting married to the Wampa from Hoth? I'm not sure what's going on here, but I've included the picture of the (hideous) tiara they're trying to sell with this copy. EVERY SINGLE ONE of their headpieces has a blurb like this. I hate to admit it, but I may spend the rest of the afternoon on their website, reveling in the outrageous ad copy.

Dear Weather Channel:

Thank you for your recent interest in my viewership. It may please you to know that we are already a frequent visitor to your channel, mostly in direct relation to the severity of the weather outside. When there's even the remotest chance of a blizzard or a heat wave, we're right there with you, in search of the day's dewpoint, humidity level, and chance of debilitating climactical change.

Your recent foray into creative vocabulary, however, gives Funundrum no choice but to reluctantly reject your application for acceptance... in general. The incident to which we refer is, of course, your evening weatherman's report of the tropical depression off the coast of Texas, immediately after he indicated the possiblity of another four inches of rain in the near future. "We're now in what we like to call a 'nowcast' situation," he proclaimed.

No. We are not, in fact, in a "nowcast" situation. I believe this turn of events calls for the eloquent and time-tested term "the present."

In light of this disappointing performance, you will surely understand our reluctance to continue our professional relationship together. We wish you the utmost in your future undertakings and thank you for your contribution to our organization.

My drugstore is a TIME MACHINE

I went to the drugstore today for the usual $50 worth of assorted geegaws, and when I went to the checkout line I found myself behind three Cavorting Teens ™. (They get a service mark on account of their suburbia-bred blandness -- your brand new AC/DC t-shirt does, in fact, prove that you are a unique snowflake, just like all your friends.) I wasn't paying too much attention to the transaction until one of these kids PULLED OUT A CHECKBOOK. A checkbook. A book of analog, ink-on-paper, non-smart-chip-embedded checks, with nary an iPrefix in sight.

As you may imagine, I was floored. The best part was when the kid peered closely at his checks and said to his friends, "Oh wait, these won't work. I gotta go to the car." He then left the store, freeing up the cashier to wait on me. It was too bad, really. I was hoping for a few other anachronisms -- maybe his pager could have gone off, or he could have asked for change to use in the payphone.

Bad Copy of the Day Award

I come across as many of these as I used to, but when I do it's a special treat. Today's BCD award honors bad company mottos everywhere by highlighting that of U.S. Nursing, a nurse staffing company that pleads with potential clients, "Expect more from us."

I understand what they're trying for -- it was probably the most concise way they could say "Expect more from us than you would from other staffing companies, because we can deliver higher quality at a surprisingly reasonable pricepoint." I can see why they would have to cut it down, otherwise they'd have to get larger business cards. But the only time I tell someone "I expect more from you," it's because they've royally screwed up. I'm no marketing expert, but it just seems to me that if your tagline can be taken two ways, and one of them fails to sell your product, it's time to put your thinking caps back on.

Suck it, VW

Every week, the lobby at work has a huge flower arrangement, as well as a smaller on on a coffee table. I never realized this, but employees can simply request to take them home on Friday, which would be lovely if one was having a party or something. Anyway, the girl who was taking them home offered me the smaller bunch of flowers -- stargazer lilies and a spider mum. I had to bring them home somehow, so they rode home in a party cup filled with water. The overall effect was like the bud vase in the dashboard of every VW Beetle, but times 100.

Wait! We've still got, like, two weeks!

Just in the last couple of days, I've started to notice the clear signs of summer's end here in Colorado. I'm sure the same sorts of things were happening this time last August, but I probably wasn't paying attention because I wasn't quite as dismayed to see the harbingers of eventual winter.

There's a tree down the street that's started to change color, and I've seen at least two groups of Canadian geese fly by my deck. Yeah, it's still 90 degrees outside every day, but autumn's in the mail, for sure. Pretty soon Chris will get all starry-eyed at the thought of not having to mow the lawn for six months, and I'll make my dog look ridiculous by dressing her in pajamas at night. Good times, people. I'm still not used to living somewhere with seasons, but I will say it's a nice way for nature to mark the passage of time.

They're getting pretty cheeky

The marketers at Coca-Cola, that's who. Soda sales must really be in the toilet for them to slap the following ridiculous copy on the side of each and every one of their 12-packs:

Who know soft drinks could be hydrating?

It's true. All beverages hydrate, including soft drinks. So if you are looking for hydration, but want the delicious and refreshing tase you get form Coca-Cola, don't compromise -- go for it. You'll be hydrating your body with each and every sip.

We offer over 80 ways to hydrate, energize, nourish, relax, or enjoy every drop of life. For more information on the benefits of hydration, go to: hydration.thecoca-colacompany.com

Are they serious? "All beverages hydrate" is the biggest half-truth I've ever seen. Sure they do. Am I the only one that thinks this copy comes dangerously close to "all beverages hydrate equally"? Some more equally than others, obviously. I included the link to their website because it's late and I can't adequately convey my incredulity. It shows a picture of a woman in front of the ocean, drinking water, for heaven sake. They go on and on about the importance of hydration, even offering a hydration calculator to help me figure out how much liquid I need every day. Turns out it's 91 ounces... of water, energy drinks, black coffee, or even refreshing Coca-Cola! Who knew how many choices I had!

I can sleep well tonight, knowing that the benevolent Coca-Cola company has my hydration needs squarely at heart. Well, not sleep, exactly. I've just finished 8 cans of Coke so I can get a head start on tomorrow's hydration needs.

And here's just a quick heads-up -- if you happen to see the word "hydration" any time in the next two weeks, you've now been fully brainwashed to start yearning for one of 80 Coca-Cola products. You've been warned.

Iowa State Fair!

It's Wednesday, so that means I'm just about recovered from the awesome experience of attending the Iowa State Fair. It was everything I had hoped for -- bluegrass, fried things, old architechture, and lots of the other bits of America that I don't hate. I got two new states out of this trip (the other one being Nebraska), and Chris managed to check off Iowa as his 49th state. We didn't get a picture because the western state line is over a river. Ah, well.

For everyone's viewing pleasure, we stuck together a quick slide show of some of our pictures. I didn't even get pictures of lots of the cool stuff we saw. They have separate horse, cattle, and sheep buildings, and one building that just housed pregnant animals and ones that had recently given birth -- they showed videos on big screens of goats being born from the day before, and we saw some piglets that were just a couple of hours old. People are just a whole lot more involved in livestock in Iowa. It sounds obvious, but there you have it. Another thing they take very seriously is 4-H. An entire building was devoted to 4-H projects and shows -- the canoe you see in the video was built by a 13-year-old girl (with a little help from her dad). I guess when you live in the middle of nowhere, you've got a little extra time on your hands.

I'm so glad we went -- it's probably the best fair I'll ever see in my life.


A couple words about the video. If you can, turn your sound on for the full bluegrass experience. Also, that big yellow cow? The one that looks like it's made out of butter? It is. They also had a butter Harry Potter and lots of his butter accessories, including butter Hedwig, a butter Fat Lady portrait, and a butter Care of Magical Creatures book. Is there NOTHING butter can't do? USA! USA! USA!

Funny client name of the day

I have no idea what these people do or what they're all about, but they have a seriously entertaining company name: Additives Plus, Inc. It's additives... plus. Think about it enough, and your head will explode.

Why Colorado is easily one of the top five states to live in.

My state makes beer. Lots of it. Lots of really good beer. When my parents were out to visit, we toured no fewer than three microbreweries in as many days, and tasted more hefeweizens and IPAs than you can shake a stick at. There's an entire section in our liquor store devoted to Colorado breweries, and we still haven't made our way through half of them.

When we saw this in the store the other day, it made me realize what a special place I live in. This here is a Mystery Microbrew Grab Bag, offered for the low low price of $7.99. If there's anything better than the promise of excellent microbrew combined with the anxious anticipation of which kind if might be, I can't think of what it is. We didn't get it, but the little voice inside my head is telling me we should have. Maybe next time.

Melephant

So I cleared off the CrapCam's memory, and found this little gem. The same property management company is in charge of both my office building and the luxury apartment building across the street, so they invited my company's employees to an open house to check out the high-rise penthousy thingies. We went over there, put on little shoe hairnets to keep the floors nice, and when we came back, I convinced Melanie to put the shoenets on her ears like an elephant. A Melephant, if you will. And you will, I assure you.

The What-inator?

What's wrong with America, you ask? Our president consults a Magic 8-Ball to determine the course of foreign policy, only it's a special Magic 8-Ball that only has answers like "KILL," "INVADE NOW, ASK AGAIN LATER," and "DON'T LISTEN TO THE WILL OF THE PEOPLE, YOU CAN'T HEAR THEM, LA LA LA LA LA"? Sure, that too, but what about the latest cheeseburger offering from Wendy's? I'm referring here to the Baconator. You heard me.

I took this picture with the CrapCam, so I'm rather impressed with the photo quality. For those of you whose eyes are watering at the thought of how much grease is involved in this sandwich, allow me to provide the gory details. Six strips of bacon, a half pound of beef, and two pieces of cheese. I know that just to the left, the triple cheeseburger is crying out for its fair share of attention, but it hasn't got a banner surrounding its picture that says "NEW NEW NEW" and it sure as HELL does not have a bitching name like the Baconator. I weep for my nation.

GOOD GOD, PEOPLE!

There were all these bright lights, then darkness, then lights again, and they may or may not have taken be back in time.

Seriously. This blog has fallen down. This blog will try not to let it happen again.

One last shot from Gray's Peak

I snapped this near the end of our hike, after we had descended back into the valley. All these photos are really large and high resolution, for your desktop picture convenience. Just click on them to embiggen.

We may not have had any fancy GPS equipment, but this is only map I need to remember from the trip.

More pictures from Gray's

I hate to bore you people with this, but this was a fairly big accomplishment for both of us, so you'll look at these pictures and like them.

Finally, the summit! With no hats and an arctic wind tearing across the mountains, we put on our raincoats in a feeble attempt to ward off blue fingernails and stinging ears.

The view back towards the way we came.

Facing the other direction. It was stunning to see the Rockies draped across the curvature of the earth like this. From here, we could see the ski towns of Breckenridge and Keystone, too.

Chris, signing the Gray's Peak register. Our hands were so cold we had a hard time writing, but we couldn't go all the way up there and not leave our mark.

RIIIIIIIII-COLAAAAAA!!!!

Um... because it's there?

Since Chris and I moved to Denver a year and a half ago, we've tried to get out there as much as possible to see the things that make Colorado a great place to live. From the People's Fair downtown to supporting whichever team's beating the Rockies, we thought we packed last summer with plenty of fun stuff.

Then the winter hit. We marinated in several feet of snow for long enough to reconsider how we were spending our sunshine days. This year, we promised ourselves, as we shoveled the driveway (again), that we would do even more and make the most of every glorious summer weekend.


So far, we've thrown an awesome party, been camping, hit up a couple of microbreweries downtown, and cheered ourselves hoarse at baseball games (go Padres), a lacrosse game, and concerts at Red Rocks. Despite all this, we still hadn't become aquainted with the Rocky Mountains in all their majestic purpleness. I mean, we've looked at them from our deck, and hiked around the family-friendly groomed trails of the national park, but we wanted to claw our way to the top of a mighty crag and howl to the heavens, "IS THAT ALL YOU'VE GOT, BEYOTCHES?'


Enter Gray's Peak. Gray's is one of the dozens of so-called "fourteeners" in the Rockies, rising to an impressive elevation of 14,270 feet (4,349 meters, or 2.7 miles up from sea level). We got up at 4:30 on Saturday morning, drove an hour into the mountains, then endured three miles of a busted down dirt road to reach the trailhead at 11,200 feet. Armed with plenty of water, trail food, a camera, and determined grimaces, we set off on the 4.5 mile hike up to the summit.


It was amazing to start the hike in the midst of a full-flowering alpine meadow, then to move up through the tundra and on to... just rocks. Most of the fourteeners can be done without any technical equipment or special knowledge, but this was still harder than we expected due to the thinness of the air. For the last mile or so, we had to stop to catch our breath every 150 feet or so. It's the strangest sensation -- I wasn't breathing hard, I just wasn't getting enough oxygen.


Needless to say, we were ecstatic to reach the summit nearly three hours after we started. We signed the register that's kept in a waterproof tube up there, and talked to a couple of old guys who have been doing this for as long as they can remember. Our original plan was to hike the saddle across to Torrey's Peak, another fourteener next door, but despite our energy level and ample supplies, we weren't equipped to deal with the frigid wind whipping across the ridge. Next time, we're taking gloves, pants, and hats -- and we're going to get that damn summit, too. Like the old man told us, "Don't worry if you don't get Torrey's this time. It will still be here when you come back."

That's Gray's Peak in the center of the photo. We took this at the very beginning of the hike, the first time the mountain became visible.

Here's looking back at that same valley (more or less -- it's just a little out of view on the right). I think this was taken about 80% of the way up.

MOUNTAIN GOAT!! Super cool. I'm not sure why his legs got cut out of my picture, but there he is. We were pretty stoked to see wildlife in such a forbidding environment.

Believe it or not, this is STILL not at the peak. Behind Chris is Torrey's Peak, the other mountain that we would have hiked over to if we had been more prepared for the cold and the wind. It doesn't look cold in these pictures, but it is.

Along that green ridge to the left you can see more hikers wending their way up to where we are. (Can you tell I got dressed at 4:30 am? I really didn't care what I was wearing.)

Independence Day Tiki Party

...Because Hawaii's a state too. Chris and I wanted to throw a party on July 4, but I didn't want to go all flagaphile on everyone. It's not really my thing, never has been. Like, I appreciate the fact that I'm an American, with all these opportunities and giant food portions lying about, but on most days I'm not proud of my country. If you'd really like to go in depth with me about that, we'll take it up later. For now, our party pictures.

Okay, so it was a bunch of people standing around in plastic leis and Hawaiian shirts, but it's about the little details at my get-togethers. You will notice that I lovingly installed a plastic sheet along our deck railing that had a picture on it of the beach AND the ocean. Nothing's too good for my guests.

Really, you can't do this sort of thing without dressing up the dog. The skirt lasted just long enough to take the picture, but she left the leis on all night. My dog is awesome and knows how to roll with a theme.

Here's a better picture of the extremely convincing beach scene, enhanced by hula girl Jennie.

Seriously. Best dog ever.

I've been doing stuff!

And taking pictures to prove it! The posts that follow are mostly pictures taken of stuff I've done over the last couple of weeks, from tiki gods to mountain goats. Enjoy.

I -heart- Colorado

Why do I love Colorado? Is it the high concentration of excellent local microbreweries? The clean air? The uncrowded and friendly DMV offices? Sure. But I also love that the Rocky Mountains are an hour and a half away from our front door. We went camping this last weekend and enjoyed beautiful views and some great hiking.



We had such a good time, in fact, that in a couple weeks we'll be tackling our first two Fourteeners (kids, this is outdoorsy jargon for any mountain over 14,000 feet high), of which there are like 52 in Colorado alone. Needless to say, we'll be starting with the easy ones.

There were still snowbanks up at this elevation (somewhere between 10,000 and 11,000 feet) which made for great photos. But we had no idea...

That the trail would take us through the damn stuff. It was nice and hot out that day, so we both refreshed ourselves by putting little scoops of snow under our hats. Ahhhh.

Please, please, click on this picture to see the big version. It's just that good.

We looked a little goofy because it was bright out and we didn't realize we were squinting when we took off our sunglasses for the photos.

This is Ginsu Master Chris. He was so proud of himself for thinking to bring the cutlery like this. He laid it all out on a towel and then rolled the towel up and secured it with a bungee cord. Brilliant.