The Moon...and Ultrarunning

(Image credit here)

We who frequent the backcountry are explorers.  Maybe we don't think consciously of ourselves in that way, but it's a truism.  We explore the backcountry itself, looking for new scenes, critters, experiences.  And we explore the backcountry within ourselves--our physical abilities, and our psychological boundaries to undestand how and why we go to extremes in ultrarunning.

There are web sites (here's one) dedicated to the highest points in each of the respective states of the union--where they are, how to get there, etc. It may be geeky beyond all belief, but I want to go to ALL those spots. I won't make it, of course--I will never stand on the summit of Denali, AK--but that doesn't keep me from dreaming.

Well, the concept has been extended to our nearest solar neighbor, the moon.  From Bad Astronomy on 3 Nov 2010:

I live less than an hour from some spectacular Rocky Mountain peaks. The view from up there is always magnificent, and when we hike we’re always curious about just how high we are. 11,500 feet? 12,000? That knowledge isn’t necessarily useful, but it’s fun.

Hiking in the Moon is a different matter. How would you know how high up you are? Well, if you had the elevation data made by the Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter you’d be all set, because then you’d know that if you were at a latitude of 5.4125° and longitude of 201.3665°, you’d be on the highest spot on the Moon!

See that red arrow? That's the spot. If you stood there, you'd be 10,786 meters (35,387 feet, about 6.7 miles) above the average lunar elevation*.

--SNIP--

Still and all, I was trying to think of some sort of scientific use of knowing where this particular point on the Moon is. I’ll be honest: I’m not sure there is one. I mean, sure, having elevation maps is interesting and useful, and knowing where places have higher elevation can lead to insight into formation mechanisms and all that.

But knowing where the actual highest point is?

Well, maybe there isn’t scientific usefulness for it. But you know what? It’s cool. And sometimes that’s enough.

I agree totally with the Bad Astronomy guy.  It's just cool.

 

Mr. Sulu Ges it Right...

...and calls out a homophobic douchebag.  With gay folk in my family, I tend to take this crap sorta seriously.

The backstory from Huffington Post a couple of weeks ago ( I know this isn't breaking news any more, but I just found the wonderful Mr. Sulu clip):

The Arkansas school board member whose homophobic rants on Facebook drew widespread condemnation announced he was resigning on Thursday's "AC360."

Anderson Cooper told viewers that Clint McCance, a member of the Midland School District board in Arkansas, contacted him to set up an interview after his anti-gay Facebook posts sparked a wave of outrage.

The posts, which emerged on Wednesday, were written in response to the "Wear Purple Day" that was launched to show solidarity with gay youth in the wake of a recent string of suicides. In one post, McCance protested the idea behind the initiative.

"They want me to wear purple because five queers committed suicide," he wrote. "The only way I'm wearing for them is if they all commit suicide. I can't believe the people of this world have gotten this stupid.

Steady as she goes, Mr. Sulu:



If the embedded YouTube won't play, here's the URL:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UACK93xF-FE

Now if our beloved and inspirational President could only show half the fire in his belly as Mr. Sulu and issue that Executive Order to drive a stake thru the heart of Don't Ask, Don't Tell before the Republicans take over the House.

 

Cats in Art: Eiaha Ohipa

Continuing my Sunday tradition of Cats in Art.

Photo and text credit here.

This painting by Paul Gauguin is sometimes referred to as A Tahitian Interior, but the artist named it Eiaha Ohipa which means "doing nothing" in the language of Tahiti. And is there anyone who can do nothing better than a cat?


[1896, Paul Gauguin, Eiaha Ohipa, painting]

I love Gauguin's notion of "doing nothing" and including a cat.  Well done!


 

Time to Re-Read Treasure Island..and Ultrarunning

Image credit Wikipedia.

I continue to love me some Writer’s Almanac, a daily email I get that dealing with highlights of this day in history, always with a delightful literary bent.

I saved this one from the archives from 13 November 2007, and I’m featuring it here on the anniversary of the author's birth. It’s relevant because Treasure Island was one of my favorite books as a kid, and I just read it again at the beach this summer. Guess what?--loved it again!  Moreover, I found the biographical info about the author, Robert Louis Stevenson, to be SO compelling. What a love story!

It's the birthday of Robert Louis Stevenson, born in Edinburgh, Scotland (1850), who was a sickly, moderately successful essayist and travel writer, living in France, when one evening he walked to a friend's house, looked in through the window, and fell instantly in love with a woman sitting there at the table. To make a grand entrance, he opened the window, leapt inside, and took a bow. The woman was Fanny Osbourne and she was both American and unhappily married. She had come to Europe to get away from her husband, but after spending months getting to know Stevenson, she decided to go back to California.

Stevenson got a telegram from her a few weeks after she'd returned to the United States, and he decided on the spot to drop everything and go persuade her to divorce her husband and marry him. His health, as always, was terrible, and the trip to the United States almost killed him. He collapsed on Fanny Osbourne's doorstep, but she nursed him back to health. She did divorce her husband, and they got married in San Francisco and spent their honeymoon in a cabin near an abandoned silver mine.

They moved back to Scotland with her son from her previous marriage, and one rainy afternoon the following summer Stevenson painted a map of an imaginary island to entertain his new stepson. The map gave him and idea for a story and in a single month he had written his first great novel, Treasure Island (1883), about the young Jim Hawkins, who finds a treasure map and goes on a journey to find the treasure. He meets pirates, survives a mutiny, and gets to know a one-legged cook named Long John Silver. The book has been in print for 124 years now.

Go to the link to read the rest. 

Robert Louis Stevenson, said, "Our business in life is not to succeed, but to continue to fail in good spirits."

Sorta like Ultrarunning, when the run or the race is not going so well....it still is fun (mostly!).

 

Happy Birthday, Neil Young!

My favorite musician turns 65 today.  I was painting the bedroom yesterday after the Snake Run (see next post down), and cranked up some vintage Neil--Everybody Knows this is Nowhere (1969) and After the Gold Rush (1970).

Some great tunes there:

--Cinnamon Girl
--Cowgirl in the Sand
--Tell Me Why
--After the Gold Rush

And I will try to embed the arguably best tune of all, Southern Man, this version from 2000 with back-ups Steven Stills, Graham Nash, and David Crosby.

Snakes and Running

I love me some critters (I do have a MS in Biology that I've never used professionally, just as a hobby).  Yesterday's run brought a first--I carried a garter snake home, running with it some 6 miles--to show to Mister Tristan (the human being, not the blog).

I've previously posted on how I "mine" the local fields for limestone rocks to use in dry stone walls and flower beds.  Well, I was off on Thursday for Veteran's Armistice Day, and I had the bride drop me off on her way to work so I could run home from there.

I made my way home along Fort Stouffer Road, where I saw a pile of rocks along an embankment.  I pulled them close to the road for later pick up with the pickup (I'm pleased with that turn of a phrase!).  Under one of the rocks was a very cold and immobilized garter snake.  The overnight low was about 30 degrees and had not warmed up much by 7:30 am. 

I slipped it into the pocket of my running vest and zipped it shut.  I doubted the snake would warm up enough to become mobile but I didn't want to risk losing it.

Well, Mister Tristan, at age 2 years 8 months not only showed little fear, he almost immediately wanted to hold the snake.

Then he graciously let me hold it.

Oh--and later I did take the snake back to the scene of the capture.

(all photos by Gary)

 

Armistice Day...Every Family Has a Story

For Veteran's Armistice Day (as it was originally called)....

Every family has a story.  My mother told me of my great-grandfather, Julius (or Jules?) Brinkmann, who was killed on this date in 1918 in World War I on the Western Front.

Word of the armistice, which took effect the 11th hour, of the 11th day, of the 11th month of 1918, did not reach all the lines in real time.  He was killed sometime later that day, AFTER the armistice.

He would have been one of the very last casualties of the Great War.  You know, the war that was supposed to end all wars.

Oh, and he was a German.  Funny, that really doesn't seem to matter, does it?

What is your family story?  Please comment.

This is a generic photo, not of Julius...but it could have been.

Photo credit here.

 

Trail Running--in Chicago

(Image credit here)

In a post last week I promised I'd comment about my running while on a business trip to Chicago. It was all I hoped for, and much more.

First off, convenience. I was staying at the Hyatt Regency O'Hare, which sits less than a mile east of the airport. With no rental car, I despaired of finding a decent place to run. Typically at airport hotels, the best you can hope for is street running involving parking lots, franchise avenues, and traffic.

I am a frequent traveler and pretty good by now at sniffing out places to run.  I had done my research ahead of time, Googling such things as Trail Running, Mountain Biking, Nature Trails, with the Chicago location. Also did a MapQuest lookup of the area, looking for green space that indicates some sort of park land. I found there was a series of "forest preserves," with trails, stretching along the Des Plaines River. Best news: I could reach the nearest access point on foot, along Lawrence Avenue, only about 1.5 miles from my hotel (this suburb is called Rosemont).

Second, the trail was pretty decent. The Des Plaines Trail was along the wooded river bottomland. The path and setting was pretty similar to running on the C+O Canal towpath along the Potomac River, of JFK 50 miler fame. It was a dirt and fine gravel path in the woods. The path was well-maintained and pretty well-marked. No water available here in Nov, although there were water pumps for summer use. There were several road crossings, all of which either had pedestrian crossing signals, overpasses, tunnels under the roadway, or routing under bridges right beside the river.

Most of the time I could not see any civilization. But I sure could hear it--auto traffic at a distance, and air traffic. Being under an approach path to O'Hare, the passenger planes coming in had flaps down and landing gear down and were screaming CLOSE overhead. Make no mistake, it was an urban trail. But it was plenty woodsy enough to be quite pleasurable.

Third, cool critters. I saw about half a dozen whitetail deer. One doe was quite close--she scared the crap out of me--I'm talking a mere 20' away, just off the trail. She seemed used to people and fairly unconcerned. Later I saw a magnificent 10 point buck, huge antlers, huge body, only 50' away. That's the closest I have ever been to one that big.

Bottom line: I ran about an hour and half out, then returned; I figure about 18 miles. These were some of the best "urban" miles I've ever logged. Not perfect, but very good for no car, right beside O'Hare Airport.