Day 5: Noble Pursuits

"The mountains are calling and I must go."
-John Muir

I'm putting together a longer piece that I'll add tonight, but I wanted to get the pics up and provide you guys a space to get started with your comments.

Congratulations on an impressive hike and thank you for an amazing week. If you guys have more images from any day this week, email them to me and I'll get them up.

I've been grappling with how I might slip back into society after such a transformaive week. Here's what I've been thinking: Thoreau came back to society, society supplied Abbey with his beloved college coeds, and, though he wasn't able to return to society, Alexander Supertramp recognized in the end that happiness is only real when shared. My hope is, as we ease ourselves back in, that you guys now have a lens through which to view your lives more clearly and an outlet that will allow you to put things in perspective every once in a while.

I'll add more soon, but I must go, as the pull of family and society is strong...
Actually I'm going for a quick morning hike at the Gorge.

Day 4: From Crest to Coast

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods;
There is a rapture on the lonely shore;
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar;
I love not man the less, but Nature more...
- Lord Byron 

The Not So Lonely Shore:

Where yesterday I breathed crisp mountain air and hiked to the sound of the wind in the pines and the crunch of snow under my boots, today I drank in thick, sea air in great gulps and sat listening to the ceaseless crashing of wave against rock. Which do I prefer? Well, I'm a mountain-man myself, but I hesitate to assign value to either, for they are different. Plus, I recognize that I can't get into the mountains every day and so have to find solitude somewhere closer by. You've got to take what you can get. Sometimes it's a question of stealing a moment here or there to sit and ponder or to scramble around and get your feet wet.

Though Alexander Supertramp might have argued that we couldn't truly experience nature so close to the San Diego, I think that in the end, as he reverted back to being Chris McCandless, he would have enjoyed our experience today at Cabrillo. After all, as he wrote in his final days: "HAPPINESS IS ONLY REAL WHEN SHARED."

Today, I think it was less about the destination and more about the company.

Tomorrow, it's going to be more about the mission. Come prepared. Come Early.

Day 2: Reclaimed Photos

It's alive! Just as I was about to stop life-support, my phone pulled through, emerging from a two-day slumber with photos intact. So, here are a few...

Day 3: Solitude

First, I need to tell each of you that today was the single finest school day I've had as a faculty member at Francis Parker School. Why? Well it's hard to put my finger on the pulse of it, but I'll give it the old DMB try. So here goes:

Today was so special because we found two things that are usually mutually exclusive: Solitude and Adventure. It was so special because I watched David make use of his goalie skills to save the lives of several kamikaze sledders hellbent on becoming one with a Jeffrey Pine. It was so special because, though it was damn cold, as we can all acknowledge as we sit in our warm houses near sea level, not a single one of you complained even once as we crunched through snow straight into an arctic wind along the Sunset and Big Laguna Trails.

Other things that made this day special:
Hot Chocolate cooked on a camp stove
Snowballs (even if one did detonate in my right ear)
The fog bank that rolled in and enveloped us (and the coots)
Taking Ludwig Von Hermes out of dry-dock
Not having to wear a 70 lb. pack.
I ended the day dry (relative to yesterday, at least)

Ah, Solitude: Though an emergency recall nearly turned us back, I knew it was out there waiting for us.  It took a hike through rime coated pines along a ridgeline cloaked in fog, but at long last we found it. Before I write another word, I ask that you have a look at the photos. They say more than I ever could about today.

As I fired up the backpacking stoves, I thought about each of you, off writing wherever you were along or above The Water of the Woods, and it became hard to wrap my head around the fact that we only have a couple of days left, that I won't get to go searching for Solitude and Adventure with you guys every day for the rest of the year. It seems a shame for it to end in just two days. The happy reality is that you can make it a priority to get outside whenever you want. Whether it's stress relief, inspiration, or recreation, we often find what we need outside, even when we didn't know we needed it in the first place.

Day 2: Oak Spring Canyon water-falling

If, as Yvon Choinard (the founder of Patagonia) suggested in "180 South," adventure is what happens when everything goes wrong, then today was certainly an adventure.

That said, I don't think the adventure we had was the result of Jake dropping his bottle, or Hank failing to properly retrieve it, or even Gabe's stones, which fell from nowhere like astoundingly well-placed mortar bombs. No, I think it was Nature (capital N, as Matt so aptly wrote in his post yesterday). Yes, it was Nature telling me that I need to cut the Gordian Knot that ties me to society and all its ills. Yeah, that's what happened there beneath the waterfall: nature making herself heard, telling me that iPhones are simply modern-day shackles...Either that or Jake pulled me in.

Aside from our adventures, Oak Spring Canyon was beautiful today. I'll remember more than just Jake's laugh as the bottle splashed down again or Hank's inappropriate comment about the crayfish attacking someone's face or Ryan's suggestion that we throw more water bottles in after the first. I'll remember the California Lilac bushes blooming on the slopes above the canyon, the Great Horned Owl stirred by our scrambling, the Cooper's Hawk troubled by a pair of crows, that section of trail where the flowers and brush constricted and we moved as if through a tunnel. I'll remember the sun filtering in through the clouds and the warmth of it on my back. Mostly, though, I'll remember scouting ahead, hiking alone up towards the 52 and turning back to see all of you perched in different nooks and crags like peregrine falcons at nest, each of you with your moleskine notebooks out, scribbling observations, waxing eloquent, crafting Haikus.

And I had proof of it, if only briefly. Locked somewhere inside the sponge that my phone became are pictures of you guys writing in some pretty impressive spots: Ryan tucked in a little niche in the gorge, David at the top of the falls, Jake and Hank on a cliffside perch, and Matt on his lofty promontory, rising above us all in his quest for true solitude.

Please understand I write this post with soggy bottoms, so I'm going to make it quick, because if I don't remedy said soggy bottoms soon, this could blossom into the worst case of swamp-ass this side of Oak Spring Canyon. And so I acknowledge that the rain we had last night was a mixed blessing. Yes, it allowed us to enjoy the waterfalls, but it also left that waterfall pool deep enough to render it a drowning hazard.

As we stood on the bridge during the hike back to the van, David noted how quickly the water had dropped from a couple of hours before. I imagine that, by tomorrow, it will be back to where it was before we received that rain. We caught Oak Spring canyon at a good moment. For that, I'm thankful.

If anyone would like minute-rice for breakfast tomorrow, don't bother bringing any; I've already got a box. Your meal will taste only slightly of iPhone.

NOTE: MAJOR CHANGE TO OUR PLANS!
Bring your warm clothes tomorrow! Because of a winter storm warning tomorrow night, the roads may be closed on Thursday morning, so we're going to go up into the Lagunas TOMORROW and Friday. Thursday will now be movie morning. 


I suggest that you wear layers (ie. tee shirt, long sleeve, jacket over it) so you can shed your jackets if you get hot as we hike, but can still be warm during lunch breaks and sledding missions. Snowboarding clothes are generally good, but you'll cook if you wear snowboarding pants. A stocking cap and gloves are musts. If you have hiking boots, bring them. Pack snacks and water and, if you want, a few dollars for a possible convenience store run.


Additionally, if you have sleds of reasonable size you can bring them as well. I plan on strapping mine to my pack in case we come across any kamikaze runs. 

You can also bring a change of clothes so you're not cold on the way back. 

Day 1: The Cave

Not a bad day, beginning to end. Though rain threatened and we did get drizzled on briefly (sorry Ryan), the weather held and we were able to get in a nice hike at Stelzer County Park. Hank had it right when he said that he felt like he was eight again. Every time I get outside, even if it's only for a short hike, I feel recharged, younger. Such is the rejuvenating power of nature.

As you guys scrambled around on the boulders and in the trees, I kept having to remind myself that this was a school day. It's amazing to have the opportunity to learn outside, to be out in the sage scented air instead of cooped up inside a classroom worrying about homework or an upcoming test. In a normal school day, we're often too busy to play, but there are few things healthier for us both physically and mentally.

Whenever I watch Koyaanisqaatsi, I always feel like I'm trapped in a bad dream, like we're these frenetic, dehumanized, anesthetized drones... but then I get outside and things slow down a bit and start to make sense again. Suddenly I feel less like a hot dog on a conveyor belt. Suddenly I realize that life is more than city traffic and people in their billions rushing about like ants slaving away for some shadowy queen. Suddenly there's time to frolic in a mountain meadow and sing "The Hills are Alive." Yes, I'm glad you took that opportunity, David. We're all happier for it.

It's when I'm outside that I get the feeling we can rise above the rat race, that we can jog alongside it for a while, observe its craziness, and, when necessary take a little spur trail off to some isolated rock outcropping and relax for a bit. It's then I realize that there's this thing about the rat race that makes it strange, as far as races go: there is no winner.

I'm glad we all survived today, but this was the safest hike of the week and our close shaves don't bode well for the future. Chances of survival are minimal. Let's all be a little more careful... Gabe, from here on out when you're scouting photo locations, watch your step. Jake, just because a giant gulf exists is not reason enough to leap it. RB, your hands are better for catching a fall than your ribs. And to all, remember that downclimbing is often trickier than the way up. See, here are the things we learn when we expand our classroom to the out of doors.

We've got a good crew and I'm excited for the rest of the week.

Here's a Haiku I wrote on an earlier hike at Stelzer:
Green coastal sage plucked
And crushed by rock-rubbed hands
Mountain-smell lingers

Tomorrow: Remember your cameras and ten dollars for lunch! And Gabe, bring your band-aids!