I am tired. Here are monkeys.

Sturm und Drang

Fuck You, Spring!

Today I went for a short bike ride after work.  I do this on many days with nary an unpleasant incident.  But today ye gods decided my little ride was the height of promethean impertinence and decided to slap my mortal ass back down.  We kicked it off with a drenching and wind-ing courtesy of a classic east coast spring thunderstorm and then followed with three flats.  Three!  And before you say "Hey, did you ever think you're just completely fail at fixing flats?," I elaborate- both tires were involved (two in the front, one in the back), and I pulled glass and/or rocks out of the tire after each flat.  Dammit, I am awesome at flats.  This was just a triple dose of bad luck.  But at least I kept my liver.

Weirdo Flowers Need Love Too

Taken on a portion of the Appalachian Trail that goes right through a big ol superfund site.  I'm not saying that this is some sort of burgeoning radioactive super villain weirdo flower, but...

Oddly enough, I really like this section of the AT.  Maybe because it is fairly unique terrain among the thousands of miles of treed-in ridgelines looking out over forest or farmland.  But its probably a good thing I enjoy it cuz...marcellus shale, fracking.    Oh, and- BONUS VISUAL AIDS!


*Those stills are from the documentary Gasland, which is an incredibly well-done, though incredibly depressing film about the environmental and health effects of fracking and the stonewalling received by anyone seeking help, information, or god forbid, regulation, from the industry, their lobbyists, and the politicians who love them.  See that movie.

Fuck Yeah, Spring!

It was gorgeous today.  That is all.

Where am I? Easter Edition!

No hints!

Because it's almost Easter...?

Eggs, Chickens...?  Yeah, I don't know.  I just like this picture.

Porters at Work: Nepal, High

Two porters crossing the Cho La glacier (~17,800'), at the top the pass from the Ngozumpa/Gokyo valley to the Khumbu/Everest valley.  The doctors at the medical outpost in Machermo told us that porters frequently make this steep (too steep even for yaks), treacherous and glaciated crossing under loads of +100lbs in thin canvas shoes or, at times, no shoes at all. Injuries and frost bite are frequent, as is altitude sickness.  As the Sherpas have upgraded to guiding and climbing, poor Nepalis come from all over the country to be porters in these highly trafficked areas.  Without the physiological advantages from Sherpa genetics, the rapid ascents performed daily by porters can have severe medical consequences.  Although altitude-sick tourists occupy much of the doctors' time, they do provide free care to locals and particularly to porters.

This is only about 2,000' lower, on the Ngozumpa glacier near Gokyo.  Wouldn't think they were walking on ice, but most of the glaciers in the area looked like this until higher up on the mountains.  Its clear the glaciers have melted extensively- the lateral moraines rise above the glacial surface by more than 100 feet in some places, and where the Ngozumpa once spilled over a ridge into the valley below Gokyo is now nothing but a boulder field.

Porters at Work: Nepal, Low

Low, of course, is a relative term.  In this case from Lukla (9,200') to Namche (11,300').

Gotta love that juxtaposition in the last one, no?  Particularly as that was rather a large pack for a group tourist traveling with porters.

Full disclosure: boyfriend and I did hire a porter for the one of our 17 days, the first with appreciable climbing.  For me, it took some getting used to.  Unfortunately, he spoke no English at all, so all communicating was done via smiles and gestures and the few Nepali words we knew (he was not Sherpani, as our friends' guide pointedly informed us).  I would have been fine with him booking along at his own pace and meeting us at the end, but he stopped when we stopped and went when we went, silently, like a shadow.  The language barrier also allowed me to project all sorts of thoughts onto him: "What does he think of being a porter?  Is it an okay way to make a living?  Does he resent the tourist influx?  Does he resent us?  Does he appreciate the fact that this is a pretty light load (~25 lbs, compared to a maximum of around 150-200) or does he wish he was carrying more so that he could earn more?  Is he judging our speed?  Are we slower or faster than the average tourist?  More or less annoying?  Does he wish I wouldn't stop so often to take pictures?  Does he think I am choosing weird or cliche subjects?..."  So on, so forth.  That might sound kinda neurotic, but when you're walking all day you have a lot of time to live in your own head.  Ultimately, his presence that day was mighty appreciated as he allowed us to ease into climbing on those rugged Himalayan trails.

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Artists

And now a decidedly less martial side of China, the uber-picturesque Hong Village near Mt. Huangshan, built in the Ming dynasty (15th century).  Although people still occupy parts of it, it is now mostly a tourist draw and was the shooting location for much of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.  Essentially all of the people in this picture are Chinese art students, who descend on this area in hordes, wielding sketchbooks and other implements of destruction.

Verboten!

Soldiers of the PRC filing out of the Forbidden City and into Tiananmen.  The post seems to be mostly for show and consists of standing imposingly under beach umbrellas in front of important landmarks.  Most of the real security is decidedly subtler, although I'm sure if I were a rural farmer trying to immolate myself there, they might have something to say about that.

Up the Downs

A few years ago, boyfriend and I decided we wanted to experience the rarefied world of horse racing, so we took a field trip to the Willowdale Steeplechase in the fancier-pants part of the Philly suburbs.  Although no one quite did the Ascot Gavotte, frilly hats abounded (I may even have considered buying one) and as you can see from the horse racing version of tailgating (floral arrangements! silver platters! fine hors d'oeuvres and wines!  tweed!  antique tailgates!), rarefied is pretty apt.  As for the racing, if one feels a dire need to spectate it, steeplechase is certainly the most NASCAR of equine disciplines as there were not infrequent crashes.

Yak-attacked

Om Mani Padme Stone

In honor of one of my most spiritually connected friends, who is staying with me this weekend, I submit these Himalayan mani stones.  Carved by monks with the mantra of Avalokiteśvara (Om Mani Padme Hum, hence the name) they are often built into walls or cairns at the entrances to villages or places of spiritual import, to honor the spirits of the place and as a way of connecting the inhabitants to their environment and their home.  Mi amiga is looking for a new place to call home and is making large life changes tambien- may these stones and their meaning help guide her in some way; just remember- always pass them on the left!

Unwitting guest photographer!

Shot by either my mum or my dad, and starring a wee me.  Or possibly some sort of gnome.

Scenes from a Nepalese Market, part two

Scenes from a Nepalese Market, part one

Taken on a jet-lagged 5am walk through central Kathmandu.  Its the beginning of the market day, and everyone is arriving to get their wares set up.  The barbed wire in the first image is left over from the riots that had taken place a month before; we saw vine-like tangles of them all over the less touristy parts of the city, especially big gathering spaces like this.

Racing amid decay

Two shots from this weekend's Navy Yard Criterium in Philly's half-decrepit formal naval base.  I say half because a sizable chunk of the area now consists of expensively renovated headquarters for companies like Urban Outfitters or less-showy but still decidedly non-decrepit offices for shadowy government arms contractors. 

But the other half made this one of the most interesting sites for a race that I've seen.  Abandoned and crumbling buildings abound- former barracks, admirals' quarters, hangers, factories, meeting halls...I got to put my climbing skills to work circumventing half-closed off ladders and doors (and got kinda dirty in the process), but unfortunately none of my more aggressive/experimental race-shot compositions worked out very well.  Didn't help that I am not exactly rocking a sports photography lens.

Where am I now?

Imma say right now that this is another shout out to Digs, but I think it will be harder for cheaters to use that info on this one.  Hint: its a museum, but if anyone says the Guggenheim I might smack you.  Spiral staircases are not created equal.  Where am I???

April Flower

At a garden in Suzhou, China.

Crushed it!

Feeling elated over a nice spot of Friday climbing.  Hit two 5.9 leads smoother than I have to date and completed a new 9+ route, so all in all successful, although my hands are now even more shredded than usual.

Anyway, in celebration of my small success, a shot from a recent Yosemite backpacking trip.  We had been in the backcountry, but we took a side trip down to the north rim to see Yosemite Falls and were treated to a show as a group of climbers set about rigging a highline.  It seemed to be quite a load of work for something that can only provide so much amusement, but I think most of their fun was in the setup.  This was also the site of one of the stupidest things I have ever done- help them tighten the line (wet, heavy, and continually caught by the wind) without clipping myself into anything!  One bad gust or a bit of gear failure on the other side and swoop! I'm jelly on the valley floor.

Wrecking the Cuteness Curve

This photoblog could so easily turn into an annoying parade of pet images- I have the most ridiculously photogenic dog, who is always flailing about in the most ridiculously adorable way.  And the most amazing thing?  Minimal fall-off in cuteness from puppy to adult.

Seriously, puppy:

Adult:

All dogs are subject to the relentless and harrowing Cuteness Reduction Algorithm, and thus I can only assume that he is not a dog, but some freakish mutant.  Possibly one out to enslave humanity.

Locks of Love

There is a legend in the Mt. Huangshan region of China that two Romeo & Juliet-type doomed lovers, she forced to soon marry another, climbed to the top of the mountain, held hands, and leapt to their death rather than be carnally parted.  As legends are today invariably convertible into tourist dollars, it is now the done thing for Chinese couples who visit the region to buy two padlocks, engrave their names onto them, lock them together and attach them to any lockable surface that presents itself on the mountaintops.  All metal fixtures up there now bristle with these symbols of everlasting love.

Not gonna lie, I kinda like it.  But not enough (or maybe I don't love boyfriend enough?) to actually make the purchase.

Winter Horses

And then we rode them!

Where am I?

I am an incongruously decorative Art Deco lion head on the side of a rundown industrial skeleton (aka graffiti canvas)- what city am I in?  (Ha, I think only one person can answer this.)

Four servings a day!

Candied fruits- a common street vendor dessert in China.  These ones are at a stand in Chongqing's "Old City" (aka tourist market).  I recall that market being dotted with inexplicable Whack-A-Mole machines between the vendor stands...

I also recall that day seeing an armless man painting intricate watercolors with his mouth, paintings indistinguishable from those by a fully-appendaged artist.  His control over the pressure on the brush tip, the speed and flow of his work- it was pretty amazing.  And, if I were to be perfectly honest, one of the most effective hard-not-hard sells I saw in the nation of the epically hard sell- boyfriend and I came away with three of his pieces.

Two Views of a Brushfire

L' Oeuvre de la course cycliste

This morning I finished Zola's L' Oeuvre (The Work, or The Masterpiece)...