Wednesday, July 30, 2003
192. This is part 5. Please read part 1,part 2, part 3 and part 4.
A few hundred yards later, the terrain started to rise slowly and the environment was filled with rocks. Despite the rise, the hike was still bearable. The only thing that was a turn off was the lack of shade. The Sun’s, with its ray in full spectrum continuously bombarded our miserable skins. Our clothes were also wet with sweat but there was nothing we could do but ignore it.
By 1300, we were too sleepy to go on and so we resolute to take a cat nap at a place beside the river. The nap lasted for nearly an hour.
Having regained of our strength partly, we continued on walking. Along the way, we did meet a few interesting people. One of them was a father of three. Upon seeing us, we said out loud, “Are you doing it?”
I was not paying attention to my ears and so I replied with a short “What?”
“Are you doing it?” He repeated. “Hiking! It sucks!”
I only managed an “oh” but Epol went on further by declaring “I agree”.
We were tired but Mother Nature repaid our resilience almost immediately. As we gained more altitude and later found that Yosemite Creek was way down below in the middle of a very small and steep ravine. The river was also wilder. It must be a fantastic spot for extreme canoeing.
For a full two hours, we hiked the tight, treeless path under the merciless Sun. It was during this time as my skin pigments were being bombarded with UV ray that I’d finally realized that I forgot to apply sun block lotion.
Yosemite Creek down in the ravine
It came as a relief when green and tall vegetation came back to existence. Shade slowly replaced the light on the floor as we moved forward and we were more than glad to walk under the green canopy.
Somewhere under the shade, we had to cross a stream that flows into the Yosemite Creek. It was a small stream, barely 4 feet in width. Despite that, the trail seemed to disappear after it went into the water. We took roughly 15 minutes to figure out what needed to be done. After sending each other as scout to three different directions, we finally found the other part of the trail about 10 meters upstream. This happened because the part of the trail is being consumed by the tiny stream. Nature seems to have a way in reclaiming its property.
It took another hour or two when at last, in the middle of nowhere, we heard internal combustion engines roaring somewhere in front of us. Through the map, we had to cross two roads, one unpaved while the other is a state freeway; reaching the first road means that we were near to our destination.
However, the first road was paved. We were surprised to see a paved road as it could mean that we were lost. Looking at the map again, we found that it is impossible to cross or to find other paved road as within 50 miles radius, there are only two roads with the unpaved road always on the freeway’s south. We later concluded that our map was outdated, or though however unlikely, the American’s notion of unpaved is different.
The improvised map
A further hike finally brought us to the freeway. There were signs that confirmed our location with White Wolf laying 4 more miles ahead and better, downhill. We took a rest and some photographs near the road.
The freeway that runs through Yosemite National Park
The only piece of technology that we brought with us was a camcorder and a digicam. Nothing was impressive about either the camcorder or the digicam. However, what was impressive is the memory, a staggering 120 Megabytes in a card with a total area less than 3 cm². When I was first introduced to a computer, an early Mac back in the late 80’s, a 5¼" floppy disk could only hold as much as 360 kilobytes. And the floppy disk drive itself took up 1/3 of the total CPU space. Although I consider myself to be well-informed and located somewhere near the technology frontier, I can’t help but marvel at how fast the rate of computer technology is being developed.
Anyway, we fought on and another mile later, we saw the incredible Lukens Lake. The approach is particularly worth mentioning.
The approach to Lake Lukens
The trail that leads to the lake was heavily shielded from the Sun by the tree branches and the slope was tolerable. It took about a mile or so until the area became flat. The vegetation of the area also changed. Tree trunks were giving way to a weaker green-stem species. At the same time, the mosquito population density increased.
We sort of waded along the path as the small but tall plants, a little bit taller than me grew into the edge of the trail. Merely roughly 50 meters later, the tall green-stem plant stopped its infiltration as a smaller species took dominance. With the lack of the green-stem plants, Lukens Lake was visible under the completely clear blue sky. On its background, confiner trees are everywhere and just before the lake, purple flowers are as many as the mosquitoes, making the sight as pretty as a well-painted picture (in fact, better!).
Beside the irritating mosquitoes, there were all kind of dragonflies flying around. With the whole populace concentrated around Lukens Lake, I had the chance to see one of the rarest dragonflies – a blue colored dragonfly. It might not be rare according to the biologist but it is a rare encounter for me. The usual dragonflies that I am familiar with are colored in blue, green and to some extend red.
Though the water looked marvelously beautiful with the reflection of the blue sky, a closer look revealed that the lake is not a good place to be in; it was mosquitoes’ breeding and dragonfly’s feeding ground. The water itself was murky. On the other hand, it was a great fishing spot for those with fishing as a hobby.
Lake Lukens. The best photo I've ever taken yet
After a few photo sessions, we left the splendid Lukens Lake behind for White Wolf. The time was around 1800, two more hours before the Sun finally set in the west; three more miles to our camping ground. Despite the short distance, those last three miles seemed like 3000 miles. My body was already exhausted after more than 10 miles of hiking. Epol also looked tired but Leman was by far still had his stamina.
As we walked farther down the path, the temperature dropped slowly. I could feel the cold air touching my already burned skin. While I was trying to conserve my body heat, we reached a junction. The right trail leads to the canyon and the other one leads to White Wolf. At first, we we’d wanted to leave our backpacks here and walk for dinner to White Wolf. However, in the end and I was disgusted by this decision, we brought everything with us. I didn’t show any sign that I was against this decision since I believed it was rather an improper time to argue. In addition, I was already exhausted and any argument by my side would lead to a disaster.
And so we brought everything with us. The last mile was challenging in a way I could no longer pull any muscle. My backpack seemed to get heavier with each step forward. It was as if my legs told the brain that they didn’t want to walk any further. I was all ready to commit a rest time but up front, somewhere in the trees I heard cars and voices. This could only mean that we were already in White Wolf. And so, the brain told to the legs “Get your act up because we are going to have a very heavy dinner afterward”. The legs’ had a renewed motivation and marched all the way towards White Wolf.
We set our feet in White Wolf approximately 15 minutes before 0900. We were lucky to have reached White Wolf by this time since the only restaurant serving the area close at 0900. Once we unbuckled the backpacks, we sat at a table situated in a patio. All the tables save two in the patio were taken. As soon as we settled in our seat, the waitress gave us a smile and three menus. I was hungry and tired and I returned the smile and quickly searched the menu. She gave us some time to make up our mind and when she got back, I asked for a fillet dinner served with french fries and a cup of hot chocolate. The hot chocolate was so delicious and properly made that I asked for three refills.
White Wolf is a small settlement, a few miles off the nearest freeway deep in the wilderness. It has a main campground setup for families and hikers alike, a small but great restaurant and a bus stop. Buses do serve this settlement but the fare is rather expensive. On four corners, mountains and tree loom tall.
The sign that reminds campers and hikers of the 1 mile rule
With full hope, we went to the campground to rent a site. Alas, we learned that we need to reserve a site in advance. Subsequently, we had to hike back outside of White Wolf and so that we could camp. If we just had to hike back, I wouldn’t mind. However, one hiking rule demands us to hike a full mile off any paved road before we could camp. Furthermore, it was dark; well passed 2100. My disgust with the earlier decision reached another level but remarkably, I managed to hold a nonchalant composure.
Worn-out, we cheated. We ignored the rule and walked merely 30 or 40 meters from the campground before we made our camps in the dark and quiet night.
A few hundred yards later, the terrain started to rise slowly and the environment was filled with rocks. Despite the rise, the hike was still bearable. The only thing that was a turn off was the lack of shade. The Sun’s, with its ray in full spectrum continuously bombarded our miserable skins. Our clothes were also wet with sweat but there was nothing we could do but ignore it.
By 1300, we were too sleepy to go on and so we resolute to take a cat nap at a place beside the river. The nap lasted for nearly an hour.
Having regained of our strength partly, we continued on walking. Along the way, we did meet a few interesting people. One of them was a father of three. Upon seeing us, we said out loud, “Are you doing it?”
I was not paying attention to my ears and so I replied with a short “What?”
“Are you doing it?” He repeated. “Hiking! It sucks!”
I only managed an “oh” but Epol went on further by declaring “I agree”.
We were tired but Mother Nature repaid our resilience almost immediately. As we gained more altitude and later found that Yosemite Creek was way down below in the middle of a very small and steep ravine. The river was also wilder. It must be a fantastic spot for extreme canoeing.
For a full two hours, we hiked the tight, treeless path under the merciless Sun. It was during this time as my skin pigments were being bombarded with UV ray that I’d finally realized that I forgot to apply sun block lotion.
Yosemite Creek down in the ravine
It came as a relief when green and tall vegetation came back to existence. Shade slowly replaced the light on the floor as we moved forward and we were more than glad to walk under the green canopy.
Somewhere under the shade, we had to cross a stream that flows into the Yosemite Creek. It was a small stream, barely 4 feet in width. Despite that, the trail seemed to disappear after it went into the water. We took roughly 15 minutes to figure out what needed to be done. After sending each other as scout to three different directions, we finally found the other part of the trail about 10 meters upstream. This happened because the part of the trail is being consumed by the tiny stream. Nature seems to have a way in reclaiming its property.
It took another hour or two when at last, in the middle of nowhere, we heard internal combustion engines roaring somewhere in front of us. Through the map, we had to cross two roads, one unpaved while the other is a state freeway; reaching the first road means that we were near to our destination.
However, the first road was paved. We were surprised to see a paved road as it could mean that we were lost. Looking at the map again, we found that it is impossible to cross or to find other paved road as within 50 miles radius, there are only two roads with the unpaved road always on the freeway’s south. We later concluded that our map was outdated, or though however unlikely, the American’s notion of unpaved is different.
The improvised map
A further hike finally brought us to the freeway. There were signs that confirmed our location with White Wolf laying 4 more miles ahead and better, downhill. We took a rest and some photographs near the road.
The freeway that runs through Yosemite National Park
The only piece of technology that we brought with us was a camcorder and a digicam. Nothing was impressive about either the camcorder or the digicam. However, what was impressive is the memory, a staggering 120 Megabytes in a card with a total area less than 3 cm². When I was first introduced to a computer, an early Mac back in the late 80’s, a 5¼" floppy disk could only hold as much as 360 kilobytes. And the floppy disk drive itself took up 1/3 of the total CPU space. Although I consider myself to be well-informed and located somewhere near the technology frontier, I can’t help but marvel at how fast the rate of computer technology is being developed.
Anyway, we fought on and another mile later, we saw the incredible Lukens Lake. The approach is particularly worth mentioning.
The approach to Lake Lukens
The trail that leads to the lake was heavily shielded from the Sun by the tree branches and the slope was tolerable. It took about a mile or so until the area became flat. The vegetation of the area also changed. Tree trunks were giving way to a weaker green-stem species. At the same time, the mosquito population density increased.
We sort of waded along the path as the small but tall plants, a little bit taller than me grew into the edge of the trail. Merely roughly 50 meters later, the tall green-stem plant stopped its infiltration as a smaller species took dominance. With the lack of the green-stem plants, Lukens Lake was visible under the completely clear blue sky. On its background, confiner trees are everywhere and just before the lake, purple flowers are as many as the mosquitoes, making the sight as pretty as a well-painted picture (in fact, better!).
Beside the irritating mosquitoes, there were all kind of dragonflies flying around. With the whole populace concentrated around Lukens Lake, I had the chance to see one of the rarest dragonflies – a blue colored dragonfly. It might not be rare according to the biologist but it is a rare encounter for me. The usual dragonflies that I am familiar with are colored in blue, green and to some extend red.
Though the water looked marvelously beautiful with the reflection of the blue sky, a closer look revealed that the lake is not a good place to be in; it was mosquitoes’ breeding and dragonfly’s feeding ground. The water itself was murky. On the other hand, it was a great fishing spot for those with fishing as a hobby.
Lake Lukens. The best photo I've ever taken yet
After a few photo sessions, we left the splendid Lukens Lake behind for White Wolf. The time was around 1800, two more hours before the Sun finally set in the west; three more miles to our camping ground. Despite the short distance, those last three miles seemed like 3000 miles. My body was already exhausted after more than 10 miles of hiking. Epol also looked tired but Leman was by far still had his stamina.
As we walked farther down the path, the temperature dropped slowly. I could feel the cold air touching my already burned skin. While I was trying to conserve my body heat, we reached a junction. The right trail leads to the canyon and the other one leads to White Wolf. At first, we we’d wanted to leave our backpacks here and walk for dinner to White Wolf. However, in the end and I was disgusted by this decision, we brought everything with us. I didn’t show any sign that I was against this decision since I believed it was rather an improper time to argue. In addition, I was already exhausted and any argument by my side would lead to a disaster.
And so we brought everything with us. The last mile was challenging in a way I could no longer pull any muscle. My backpack seemed to get heavier with each step forward. It was as if my legs told the brain that they didn’t want to walk any further. I was all ready to commit a rest time but up front, somewhere in the trees I heard cars and voices. This could only mean that we were already in White Wolf. And so, the brain told to the legs “Get your act up because we are going to have a very heavy dinner afterward”. The legs’ had a renewed motivation and marched all the way towards White Wolf.
We set our feet in White Wolf approximately 15 minutes before 0900. We were lucky to have reached White Wolf by this time since the only restaurant serving the area close at 0900. Once we unbuckled the backpacks, we sat at a table situated in a patio. All the tables save two in the patio were taken. As soon as we settled in our seat, the waitress gave us a smile and three menus. I was hungry and tired and I returned the smile and quickly searched the menu. She gave us some time to make up our mind and when she got back, I asked for a fillet dinner served with french fries and a cup of hot chocolate. The hot chocolate was so delicious and properly made that I asked for three refills.
White Wolf is a small settlement, a few miles off the nearest freeway deep in the wilderness. It has a main campground setup for families and hikers alike, a small but great restaurant and a bus stop. Buses do serve this settlement but the fare is rather expensive. On four corners, mountains and tree loom tall.
The sign that reminds campers and hikers of the 1 mile rule
With full hope, we went to the campground to rent a site. Alas, we learned that we need to reserve a site in advance. Subsequently, we had to hike back outside of White Wolf and so that we could camp. If we just had to hike back, I wouldn’t mind. However, one hiking rule demands us to hike a full mile off any paved road before we could camp. Furthermore, it was dark; well passed 2100. My disgust with the earlier decision reached another level but remarkably, I managed to hold a nonchalant composure.
Worn-out, we cheated. We ignored the rule and walked merely 30 or 40 meters from the campground before we made our camps in the dark and quiet night.
Monday, July 28, 2003
191. Read part 1, part 2 and part 3.
We cooked some mushroom soup for breakfast to be eaten with some bread. It wasn’t enough for me but I wasn’t really hungry at that time, so I didn’t say anything about the quantity that I had.
By 0700 on 3rd July, everything was ready and we left our first camping ground no later than 0800.
We were supposed to follow the trail that leads to the Ten Lakes but somehow, we had the urge to see the Grand Canyon of Tuolumne. Therefore, instead of going to the right, we headed northwest towards White Wolf.
It wasn’t long until we reached a place where rocks were a predominant landscape instead of soil. We saw a huge rock and decided to climb it. We left the backpacks behind for awhile so that we could climb the rock faster. We got up, armed with a digital camera and a view cam in order to record anything that we would see.
Up there, we saw some footprints. Leman said that it was dears’ prints but I suspect that it were not dears'. In any case, I think it was mountain lion’s print since the prints were somewhat similar to the lion’s print shown the Valley Visitor Center. In any case, a few feet ahead laid a ledge that overlooks the mother of Yosemite Fall, the Yosemite Creek.
The creek was more like a river full of rapids. The water from far looked greenish but a closer look convinced me that the water was crystal clear. And of course, the sound of dashing water made the view surreal in the cold morning. In any case, I was surprised but delighted to be treated by Mother Nature with such a sight so early after we begun our hike.
Me overlooking Yosemite Creek
Once satisfied, we went down the rock to continue our hike. For an hour, our trail went through a forest with a rather flat terrain until a point where trees suddenly ceased to exist on both side of the trail. While the trees gone, an enemy started to appear – mosquitoes.
Actually, even where the trees provided much needed shade for us, the annoying insects were already feasting on our red blood. However, I managed to shake the mosquitoes off me by applying a rather smelly insect repellant. The thing worked greatly at first.
Then, while we were in the open, it seemed that the mosquitoes were making a nest on our shoulders. At one time, there were roughly 20 mosquitoes hanging around on Epol’s right arm. 20! Even when I was in my grandparent grove, never had I ever encountered 20 mosquitoes at one time. We frequently swung our cap from left to right and to the left again so that the mosquitoes wouldn’t have the chance to suck our precious oxygen-rich blood.
As the trees somehow stopped growing at some point, an open space opened up with dried grasses standing almost everywhere. There was nothing worth mentioning about the open space since it was merely sort of a vast field with improper grass.
Somewhere at the end of the field, where the greens started to reconquer the scenery, we took a rest for a few minutes. We did plan to take a longer rest but the insects were getting on our nerve. Consequently, we got on our feet marched from the mosquitoes breeding place with hope that the insects’ would not follow us. On also, from here on, our trail went away from the creek.
It would take another hour or two until we met the creek again. However, the water behavior changed. Rather than the wild dashing white water fighting for its way among the rapids, this time, the atmosphere was relaxing. Calm water as clear as crystal flowing gently towards the Valley.
The charming rocks
We stopped and freed our shoulders from the evil fat guys and went off trail to check out the creek. Across it, a fallen timber formed an improvised bridge, allowing us to cross the creek without getting wet unnecessarily. On the other side, the stones looked must like Cinderella’s fair skin with the sand acted like her fumes. A type of plant grew as tall as me, became an artist’s finishing touch to the already masterpiece work. I was so entranced by creek that it made me deaf. I didn’t response to neither Leman nor Epol, who was calling me to get back and carry on. With a heavy heart, I returned to them and carried on.
Our backpacks across the creek
Nevertheless, it wasn’t long until we discovered a waterhole with a cliff, some place as high as two meters exists on both sides of the creek. The place seemed to be a marvelous stopping place; the water was so irresistible that we decided to make an unplanned stop and take a swim. With properly place the backpacks against a fallen, almost rotting tree trunk, we with an unusual fast speed, got into our swimming gear, ready to jump straight into the water.
Irresistable isn't it?
Unfortunately, we didn’t realize that the water was icy cold despite the Sun shining at full capacity. The first and only victim was Leman, who jumped from a full two meter high ledge into the water. We were still on the dry ground when we saw Leman was struggling back to the ground. Upon seeing that, both Epol and I put our jumping trip on hold and checked Leman out. Leman later strongly recommend us not to jump; we simply adhered to his advice.
It would be a waste not to take a little swim at such pristine water located in the middle of the forest high up somewhere nearby to the Sierra Nevada. So, we still went into the water slowly. I in particular took a long time to get into the water. Once in the water, I simply found it hard to breathe because the temperature of the water was so low compared to my usual body temperature. Nevertheless, I did enjoy having my whole body submerged in the cold refreshing water.
The time I took to get out of the water was as long as the time I took to get into the water. This was our first bath since we left Ann Arbor and so, I tried to be in the water as long as possible until I suddenly came to realize that something is wrong with our little detour to the canyon. I got out, put some new clothing to my half naked body and asked Leman for the map.
For today, we were supposed to camp somewhere in the middle between Yosemite Creek and White Wolf. I made a few rough calculations and confirmed my fear. If we were to follow the plan, there is no way we could make it to the Valley back in time without missing our flight back to Michigan. After voicing out my opinion, we realized that we must hike more than 14 miles (roughly 23 km). Deep in my heart, I thought it was an impossible hike although I was the one that first raised the issue.
Thus, we got our backpacks and marched with a renewed mission. We left the waterhole sometimes at 1100.
We cooked some mushroom soup for breakfast to be eaten with some bread. It wasn’t enough for me but I wasn’t really hungry at that time, so I didn’t say anything about the quantity that I had.
By 0700 on 3rd July, everything was ready and we left our first camping ground no later than 0800.
We were supposed to follow the trail that leads to the Ten Lakes but somehow, we had the urge to see the Grand Canyon of Tuolumne. Therefore, instead of going to the right, we headed northwest towards White Wolf.
It wasn’t long until we reached a place where rocks were a predominant landscape instead of soil. We saw a huge rock and decided to climb it. We left the backpacks behind for awhile so that we could climb the rock faster. We got up, armed with a digital camera and a view cam in order to record anything that we would see.
Up there, we saw some footprints. Leman said that it was dears’ prints but I suspect that it were not dears'. In any case, I think it was mountain lion’s print since the prints were somewhat similar to the lion’s print shown the Valley Visitor Center. In any case, a few feet ahead laid a ledge that overlooks the mother of Yosemite Fall, the Yosemite Creek.
The creek was more like a river full of rapids. The water from far looked greenish but a closer look convinced me that the water was crystal clear. And of course, the sound of dashing water made the view surreal in the cold morning. In any case, I was surprised but delighted to be treated by Mother Nature with such a sight so early after we begun our hike.
Me overlooking Yosemite Creek
Once satisfied, we went down the rock to continue our hike. For an hour, our trail went through a forest with a rather flat terrain until a point where trees suddenly ceased to exist on both side of the trail. While the trees gone, an enemy started to appear – mosquitoes.
Actually, even where the trees provided much needed shade for us, the annoying insects were already feasting on our red blood. However, I managed to shake the mosquitoes off me by applying a rather smelly insect repellant. The thing worked greatly at first.
Then, while we were in the open, it seemed that the mosquitoes were making a nest on our shoulders. At one time, there were roughly 20 mosquitoes hanging around on Epol’s right arm. 20! Even when I was in my grandparent grove, never had I ever encountered 20 mosquitoes at one time. We frequently swung our cap from left to right and to the left again so that the mosquitoes wouldn’t have the chance to suck our precious oxygen-rich blood.
As the trees somehow stopped growing at some point, an open space opened up with dried grasses standing almost everywhere. There was nothing worth mentioning about the open space since it was merely sort of a vast field with improper grass.
Somewhere at the end of the field, where the greens started to reconquer the scenery, we took a rest for a few minutes. We did plan to take a longer rest but the insects were getting on our nerve. Consequently, we got on our feet marched from the mosquitoes breeding place with hope that the insects’ would not follow us. On also, from here on, our trail went away from the creek.
It would take another hour or two until we met the creek again. However, the water behavior changed. Rather than the wild dashing white water fighting for its way among the rapids, this time, the atmosphere was relaxing. Calm water as clear as crystal flowing gently towards the Valley.
The charming rocks
We stopped and freed our shoulders from the evil fat guys and went off trail to check out the creek. Across it, a fallen timber formed an improvised bridge, allowing us to cross the creek without getting wet unnecessarily. On the other side, the stones looked must like Cinderella’s fair skin with the sand acted like her fumes. A type of plant grew as tall as me, became an artist’s finishing touch to the already masterpiece work. I was so entranced by creek that it made me deaf. I didn’t response to neither Leman nor Epol, who was calling me to get back and carry on. With a heavy heart, I returned to them and carried on.
Our backpacks across the creek
Nevertheless, it wasn’t long until we discovered a waterhole with a cliff, some place as high as two meters exists on both sides of the creek. The place seemed to be a marvelous stopping place; the water was so irresistible that we decided to make an unplanned stop and take a swim. With properly place the backpacks against a fallen, almost rotting tree trunk, we with an unusual fast speed, got into our swimming gear, ready to jump straight into the water.
Irresistable isn't it?
Unfortunately, we didn’t realize that the water was icy cold despite the Sun shining at full capacity. The first and only victim was Leman, who jumped from a full two meter high ledge into the water. We were still on the dry ground when we saw Leman was struggling back to the ground. Upon seeing that, both Epol and I put our jumping trip on hold and checked Leman out. Leman later strongly recommend us not to jump; we simply adhered to his advice.
It would be a waste not to take a little swim at such pristine water located in the middle of the forest high up somewhere nearby to the Sierra Nevada. So, we still went into the water slowly. I in particular took a long time to get into the water. Once in the water, I simply found it hard to breathe because the temperature of the water was so low compared to my usual body temperature. Nevertheless, I did enjoy having my whole body submerged in the cold refreshing water.
The time I took to get out of the water was as long as the time I took to get into the water. This was our first bath since we left Ann Arbor and so, I tried to be in the water as long as possible until I suddenly came to realize that something is wrong with our little detour to the canyon. I got out, put some new clothing to my half naked body and asked Leman for the map.
For today, we were supposed to camp somewhere in the middle between Yosemite Creek and White Wolf. I made a few rough calculations and confirmed my fear. If we were to follow the plan, there is no way we could make it to the Valley back in time without missing our flight back to Michigan. After voicing out my opinion, we realized that we must hike more than 14 miles (roughly 23 km). Deep in my heart, I thought it was an impossible hike although I was the one that first raised the issue.
Thus, we got our backpacks and marched with a renewed mission. We left the waterhole sometimes at 1100.
Friday, July 25, 2003
190. Read this and this first before indulging on this entry.
And so the journey started.
At 1500 hours, we left Curry Village, a quite happening place in the Valley, by bus towards the starting point of our journey, which was Upper Yosemite Fall Trail.
Our full party started the expedition rather plainly at first. We got off the bus and immediately followed a well marked trail closely until at one point, which was really less than half a mile, when we somehow got off the trail. Without a trail, our journey towards our first planned campground, Yosemite Creek was being slowed down tremendously. I believe, every 10 minutes, we had to send out a scout to observe the upcoming obstacle and to make sure that we weren’t lost. As moments passed, we started to figure out that we were lost. Being careful, we consulted the map and decided to go straight upward until we hit the wall that became the base of the whole mass.
Before I go on further, let me explain the topography of our starting point. The starting point is rather flat and the trail goes to the east. The trail heads east simply because northward, a sort of shield wall rises well about 4000 ft vertically. However, a few hundred meters before the wall, a rather tolerable slope persists from the road and the bus stop up till the wall. With that explained, now it is easier to explain why we decided to go up to the base of the wall.
The real trail, the one that we somehow veered from, goes straight to the east and it doesn’t turn north in about a mile. We got off the trail somewhere in between our starting point and the point where the trail heads north. Therefore, through our improvised map (I seriously recommend buying a complete topographical map for a hiking trip. Its benefit far outweighs its cost. Trust me on this), we figured out that if we go up first and heads east later, we will eventually hit the trail again. This way, we would save time rather than having to backtrack our every step. Logically acceptable.
True enough, we hit the trail later.
From here on, the ascent was steep and the climb was slow. Of the entire trail that we pursued, this was the steepest trail ever but it was not the worst since we still had energy. Our muscles weren’t heavily contaminated with lactic acid yet.
While hiking up, we noticed that a blue bird was following us, flying from tree to tree, singing. I thought at first that I was simply seeing a few birds from the same species. Later however, Leman and Epol agreed that it was the same birds that we kept on seeing as we climbed higher. The bird was very resilient in following and I do think that the bird stalked us for more than two hours. And seeing the bird frequently, we implicitly came to a union of naming it Blue Jay, with the Jay was the Jay from “J”e-ba-i. Macam haram but a cool name for the bird nonetheless =).
The rise was slow and we, especially me, took lots of rest, every time I had the chance. We also talked to a number of day hikers who came just to see the Yosemite Valley up from the Fall.
We climbed and sweated until a person told us to be careful of a snake, located merely around 400 yards away from us. He told us to watch for a bottle placed on a rock where the snake was supposed to be. Interested in seeing the reptile, we quickened our pace but only to be disappointed to see no snake there. The snake could have probably left the place.
We continued our hike and made lots of stop. And Blue Jay was still following us, most probably trying its luck for food from us.
It was perhaps some time between 1700 and 1800 that we reached a lookout point that faces the Valley with the Fall directly behind us. We decided to take a long stop here in order to enjoy the view.
From here, the Valley seemed to be much smaller that it was when we were way down below. I stood at the edge and looked down and it was a feeling that almost anybody would definitely enjoy – the sense of greatness and power, with you standing high above from the other strangers below.
I wonder how it was like back in 1997, when El Nino wrecked havoc almost all over the world, including in Yosemite. El Nìno was a natural phenomenon. However, in 1997, due to adverse pollution effect, the weather went mad. The unnatural heat forced the glaciers in the Sierra Nevada to melt more than it should. As a direct result, the usually calm Merced River was forced to make some room for more fresh water. Apparently, the River failed to accommodate the huge water quantity and went over its limit. Thus, the whole Valley was flooded with the water depth was well over 5 feet. With that depth, even a bus would have been flooded.
From where I stood, I would see a lake for certain.
To the east, Half Dome stands silently with the old Sierra Nevada on the background.
The Valley’s south wall was struck by the mighty Sun’s ray and I would imagine the heat was almost unbearable. The other south wall, where El Capitan Fall is located, was very barren compared to its northern counterpart, where we were. No doubt the heat changed the vegetation. Down in the Valley, conifer trees take up the entire place along the flowing Merced River with a small Chapel standing quietly somewhere among the green trees. The wind was also noticeably strong but not too strong. Maybe suited in the moderate breeze classification.
After catching up with our breath, we went on with the mission. By 2030, it was already dark but we were still on the trail, seeing no flat site suitable for camping. Thus, we stopped awhile to perform both the Zohor and Asar prayer before the Sun succumbed to the Luna. Once done, we continued a little bit farther before we met a fork and the time was about 2100. One was heading to the Creek, straight to the Ten Lakes and all the way to the Tuolumne Meadows while the other path leads to Lake Luken, White Wolf and eventually to the Grand Canyon of Tuolumne.
The Sun was nowhere to be found in the sky and it was so dark, that the stars up high in heaven were visible to the naked eyes. I recognized a few of the constellations that I’ve always failed to spot in Michigan or even in Malaysia due to both pollution and geographical factors. As a Vulcan would say, it would be a logical point of action to stop and make a camp rather than risk being lost up in the high country.
Thus, we camped. There were two tents, one for Leman and the other for Epol and I. I had to share with Epol since I had a larger tent.
Firewood was everywhere so we didn’t really have to go far from our camping site to search for it. Once both the camps and the fire were done, we cooked and went directly to sleep. And it worth to point out that we actually slept rather early, at 2230. It was considerably cold. Luckily, the sleeping bag managed to conserve some of my body heat to let me to sleep comfortably.
Total distance traveled was about 4 miles, which is about 6 km. Elevation gained through hiking was more than 4000 ft.
The next morning, we woke up at 0500 and the Sun was already prepared for the new day. Unfortunately, I was not in the same league as the Sun. Nevertheless, I still woke up and tried to to join the Sun’s adventure.
Our first stop was some where near Yosemite Creek, the first blue line, southmost, drawn on the map. For a larger version, click here.
errata - Blue Jay is actually the name of the species. Nevertheless, after checking the net for more information, I'm convinced that the bird is not Blue Jay (Cyanocitta cristata). The main difference is the bird that I saw had a sort of noticeable crown on its head while the picture that I found shows that typical Blue Jay has a smoother head, or a simple extension of fur behind its head. And also geographically, blue jay is mainly found on the east side of the Rocky while Yosemite is on the southwestern side of the Rocky. On the other hand, the bird might had migrated here and it really is blue jay and I am wrong about naming it after me. =) Thanks to Epol for correcting that embrassing mistake.
more errata - In order to make out my mistake, I did a little research about the said bird and found out that the bird was not a Blue Jay. As it turned out, Jay has a huge family. The Jay that I saw was Stellar's Jay (Cyanocitta stelleri), the one species that was mentioned in John Muir's journal. "Often mistakenly called the Blue Jay, this Jay is a typical member of the Corvidae family, sharing its loud calls, bold nature and scavenging habits with crows and other Jays."(http://www.naturepark.com/stellars.htm, par. 2)
And so the journey started.
At 1500 hours, we left Curry Village, a quite happening place in the Valley, by bus towards the starting point of our journey, which was Upper Yosemite Fall Trail.
Our full party started the expedition rather plainly at first. We got off the bus and immediately followed a well marked trail closely until at one point, which was really less than half a mile, when we somehow got off the trail. Without a trail, our journey towards our first planned campground, Yosemite Creek was being slowed down tremendously. I believe, every 10 minutes, we had to send out a scout to observe the upcoming obstacle and to make sure that we weren’t lost. As moments passed, we started to figure out that we were lost. Being careful, we consulted the map and decided to go straight upward until we hit the wall that became the base of the whole mass.
Before I go on further, let me explain the topography of our starting point. The starting point is rather flat and the trail goes to the east. The trail heads east simply because northward, a sort of shield wall rises well about 4000 ft vertically. However, a few hundred meters before the wall, a rather tolerable slope persists from the road and the bus stop up till the wall. With that explained, now it is easier to explain why we decided to go up to the base of the wall.
The real trail, the one that we somehow veered from, goes straight to the east and it doesn’t turn north in about a mile. We got off the trail somewhere in between our starting point and the point where the trail heads north. Therefore, through our improvised map (I seriously recommend buying a complete topographical map for a hiking trip. Its benefit far outweighs its cost. Trust me on this), we figured out that if we go up first and heads east later, we will eventually hit the trail again. This way, we would save time rather than having to backtrack our every step. Logically acceptable.
True enough, we hit the trail later.
From here on, the ascent was steep and the climb was slow. Of the entire trail that we pursued, this was the steepest trail ever but it was not the worst since we still had energy. Our muscles weren’t heavily contaminated with lactic acid yet.
While hiking up, we noticed that a blue bird was following us, flying from tree to tree, singing. I thought at first that I was simply seeing a few birds from the same species. Later however, Leman and Epol agreed that it was the same birds that we kept on seeing as we climbed higher. The bird was very resilient in following and I do think that the bird stalked us for more than two hours. And seeing the bird frequently, we implicitly came to a union of naming it Blue Jay, with the Jay was the Jay from “J”e-ba-i. Macam haram but a cool name for the bird nonetheless =).
The rise was slow and we, especially me, took lots of rest, every time I had the chance. We also talked to a number of day hikers who came just to see the Yosemite Valley up from the Fall.
We climbed and sweated until a person told us to be careful of a snake, located merely around 400 yards away from us. He told us to watch for a bottle placed on a rock where the snake was supposed to be. Interested in seeing the reptile, we quickened our pace but only to be disappointed to see no snake there. The snake could have probably left the place.
We continued our hike and made lots of stop. And Blue Jay was still following us, most probably trying its luck for food from us.
It was perhaps some time between 1700 and 1800 that we reached a lookout point that faces the Valley with the Fall directly behind us. We decided to take a long stop here in order to enjoy the view.
From here, the Valley seemed to be much smaller that it was when we were way down below. I stood at the edge and looked down and it was a feeling that almost anybody would definitely enjoy – the sense of greatness and power, with you standing high above from the other strangers below.
I wonder how it was like back in 1997, when El Nino wrecked havoc almost all over the world, including in Yosemite. El Nìno was a natural phenomenon. However, in 1997, due to adverse pollution effect, the weather went mad. The unnatural heat forced the glaciers in the Sierra Nevada to melt more than it should. As a direct result, the usually calm Merced River was forced to make some room for more fresh water. Apparently, the River failed to accommodate the huge water quantity and went over its limit. Thus, the whole Valley was flooded with the water depth was well over 5 feet. With that depth, even a bus would have been flooded.
From where I stood, I would see a lake for certain.
To the east, Half Dome stands silently with the old Sierra Nevada on the background.
The Valley’s south wall was struck by the mighty Sun’s ray and I would imagine the heat was almost unbearable. The other south wall, where El Capitan Fall is located, was very barren compared to its northern counterpart, where we were. No doubt the heat changed the vegetation. Down in the Valley, conifer trees take up the entire place along the flowing Merced River with a small Chapel standing quietly somewhere among the green trees. The wind was also noticeably strong but not too strong. Maybe suited in the moderate breeze classification.
After catching up with our breath, we went on with the mission. By 2030, it was already dark but we were still on the trail, seeing no flat site suitable for camping. Thus, we stopped awhile to perform both the Zohor and Asar prayer before the Sun succumbed to the Luna. Once done, we continued a little bit farther before we met a fork and the time was about 2100. One was heading to the Creek, straight to the Ten Lakes and all the way to the Tuolumne Meadows while the other path leads to Lake Luken, White Wolf and eventually to the Grand Canyon of Tuolumne.
The Sun was nowhere to be found in the sky and it was so dark, that the stars up high in heaven were visible to the naked eyes. I recognized a few of the constellations that I’ve always failed to spot in Michigan or even in Malaysia due to both pollution and geographical factors. As a Vulcan would say, it would be a logical point of action to stop and make a camp rather than risk being lost up in the high country.
Thus, we camped. There were two tents, one for Leman and the other for Epol and I. I had to share with Epol since I had a larger tent.
Firewood was everywhere so we didn’t really have to go far from our camping site to search for it. Once both the camps and the fire were done, we cooked and went directly to sleep. And it worth to point out that we actually slept rather early, at 2230. It was considerably cold. Luckily, the sleeping bag managed to conserve some of my body heat to let me to sleep comfortably.
Total distance traveled was about 4 miles, which is about 6 km. Elevation gained through hiking was more than 4000 ft.
The next morning, we woke up at 0500 and the Sun was already prepared for the new day. Unfortunately, I was not in the same league as the Sun. Nevertheless, I still woke up and tried to to join the Sun’s adventure.
Our first stop was some where near Yosemite Creek, the first blue line, southmost, drawn on the map. For a larger version, click here.
errata - Blue Jay is actually the name of the species. Nevertheless, after checking the net for more information, I'm convinced that the bird is not Blue Jay (Cyanocitta cristata). The main difference is the bird that I saw had a sort of noticeable crown on its head while the picture that I found shows that typical Blue Jay has a smoother head, or a simple extension of fur behind its head. And also geographically, blue jay is mainly found on the east side of the Rocky while Yosemite is on the southwestern side of the Rocky. On the other hand, the bird might had migrated here and it really is blue jay and I am wrong about naming it after me. =) Thanks to Epol for correcting that embrassing mistake.
more errata - In order to make out my mistake, I did a little research about the said bird and found out that the bird was not a Blue Jay. As it turned out, Jay has a huge family. The Jay that I saw was Stellar's Jay (Cyanocitta stelleri), the one species that was mentioned in John Muir's journal. "Often mistakenly called the Blue Jay, this Jay is a typical member of the Corvidae family, sharing its loud calls, bold nature and scavenging habits with crows and other Jays."(http://www.naturepark.com/stellars.htm, par. 2)
Thursday, July 24, 2003
189
University of Missouri-Rolla won the Solar Car Race, as expected. They also managed to break the record set by the University of Michigan Solar Car Team 2 years ago.
Congratulations but now, it's time for World Solar Challenge in Australia. Michigan is still comtemplating on joining. As for me, I can't risk to not attend the Fall semester. Nevertheless, I will still be the background crew for the team.
Quote of the day
"...Consumerism in the end will leave this world nothing but a broken shell. Unlimited wants and a limited rock to live on. We better find a way to travel the stars soon."
- wyldwulfwytch, in a forum concerning whaling industry.
University of Missouri-Rolla won the Solar Car Race, as expected. They also managed to break the record set by the University of Michigan Solar Car Team 2 years ago.
Congratulations but now, it's time for World Solar Challenge in Australia. Michigan is still comtemplating on joining. As for me, I can't risk to not attend the Fall semester. Nevertheless, I will still be the background crew for the team.
Quote of the day
"...Consumerism in the end will leave this world nothing but a broken shell. Unlimited wants and a limited rock to live on. We better find a way to travel the stars soon."
- wyldwulfwytch, in a forum concerning whaling industry.
Tuesday, July 22, 2003
Monday, July 21, 2003
187 Make sure to read this first. 187 is follow-up entry to 186.1.
We brought a ticket to Merced via Bakersfield (LA – Bakersfield is connected by a connector bus) at the Los Angeles Union Station and later, chose a spot in the station to rest. I hadn’t slept yet so waking up till 0400 hours was a little tough to do. So, after discussing with Leman, we planned to meet up at the Park’s Visitor Center an hour after noon. If we failed to reach there by the agreed time, he was going to leave the Valley, our hiking starting point without us.
So, he left with the 0100 train and us.
We were all alone. At least it was better than the original plan. The original plan was designed before Epol join our little party. With Leman got the trip planned up a few months up front (it might be a few weeks but you get the idea), I didn’t get the chance to follow closely his steps from Ann Arbor to Detroit.
The original plan for me was to get a cab from Ann Arbor to Detroit, get on a plane to SFO Airport in San Francisco (home of many cool electronic companies, such as Blogger.com and of course somewhere around there, the Googleplex, Google’s HQ), get a bus to from the airport to Emeryville, situated across the bay and from Everyville, towards Merced. Plus, the ticket price to SFO was about 10 or 30 bucks cheaper. But with Epol joining in, the ticket price to LAX seemed to decrease and thus, the ticket issue went to the surface no more.
Well, we didn’t get mugged in the station nor did we lose anything but time certainly crawled. I fell reluctantly into slumber and later woke up because my back hurts. It was 0130.
Slept again, but the chair was so uncomfortable. It was 0200++.
Slept again, woke up and still it was not 0300.
Slept again, woke up and it was just about 0300.
Slept again, woke up and I said “OMG, time really crawl slower than snail.”
Time really crawled I tell you.
I was about to sleep again but then, I bought a pop (pop means soda, thanks to Mike from Cambridge 300++ for drilling the term into my head) and stayed up well till 0500++. By 0400, the connecting bus was here. The bus was very punctual even at 0400. I wonder if Malaysia’s bus service will ever get on par with US’ standard.
We got on the bus and the bus had only 4 passengers; they were me, Epol and two other black guys. As I said before, I slept in the bus at around 0500. Had a weird dream but forgot what it was about.
Later, at around 0600 or so, my two eyelids reopened and I was amazed by the sight outside the bus. Both to my left and right rose rocky rolling hills up into the dark morning sky. The hills seem to cooperate with each other to form a high wall on both side of the road. From a more logical thinking, most probably the civil engineers decided to cut by the side of the hills. But in any case, there were a lot of naturally built hills on both side of the highway. The most breathtaking event on the LA-Bakersfield journey was the way how the hills suddenly disappeared to open up a gale and from that gale, a long, huge valley was formed. With the grasses in the valley that you could only see in Western movies swaying , I did hold my breath for a few moments. And there was a small lake, might be more suitable to be called a big pond somewhere on the right side of the road. And I’d finally seen what I’ve read in book; the famous California Aqueduct. It looked like a huge drain but nevertheless, seeing something that shaped California’s history is something. There were a few moments during all this when I was about to ask the camera from Epol but seeing him asleep made me changed my mind. So, I sat all by myself enjoying the view before falling helplessly into dreams again.
We reached Bakersfield about an hour or so later. Bakersfield, what can I say? It looked like a typical American town you could see in old blank and white American movies. It gave me the creep although there was nothing scary about it.
We got off the bus and waited for the train to arrive. Took off a few photos and drank a cup of coffee to keep my spirit up a bit. I wasn’t downed. I was just plain sleepy. It wasn’t long before the train reached Bakersfield.
Just before we got onto the train car, a conductor gave us a tip to get on the first car. He said that the first car is usually empty. I said thanks and went for the first car. True enough, it was empty. We went for the car’s upper level and took up eight seats just for us, four each. Two for my big ass backpack and two for me with a table in the middle. Cool huh?
The train left the town some time after 0700, almost 0800.
And shit, I lost my note. This is what happens when you use tissue papers as writing papers. I used tissue papers as note papers because I forgot to get a note book from Ann Arbor and I can’t find anything in Detroit and in Houston. I’m digressing but since I can’t find my note, I’ll just have to write straight from my head. Here goes nothing.
When Bakersfield was out of sight, Epol and I gave the galley a visit. Bought a fillet and some drinks. It was not sufficient as a lunch but I guess that had to do for the time being.
Before I forget, the scenery on the way from Bakersfield to Merced was less spectacular than the rolling hills I saw outside of LA. However, it was still great. From the train, I saw all kind of plantations and it seems like the grove expands to the end of the horizon. Green grapes or whatever it was grew almost as tall as the train’s two-story car. The yellowish wheat, it might be just dry grasses, grew almost everywhere and odd enough, it was beautiful. This was the biggest plantation area and the biggest valley in the whole America and I saw it all from the ground.
It view outside the windows didn’t change a bit all the way from Bakersfield to Merced. It was green and then it was yellow, green, yellow and again green and yellow. Too much green and yellow made me fell to sleep slowly. I slept all the way until the conductor announced that Merced was the next station. Of the two days of travel, I found sleeping Amtrak train most comfortable.
We reached Merced Station around 1100 hours. Merced Station was definitely smaller than Ann Arbor’s. I asked the man behind the counter where I could buy a bus ticket to Yosemite. The man told me to just go outside and wait for a guy. Convincing indeed but I was an outsider. So, I just went outside and indeed there was a lady asking “Are you going to Yosemite?” I obviously say “Yes we are”. Sounds funnily like a covert operation but what the heck.
Later, the bus came and picked us up. From there on, off we go to Yosemite.
The ride to Yosemite Valley was cool. The bus driver was talkative like hell, worse than the cab driver back in LA. Nevertheless, the driver was at least informative.
As we were about to leave Merced, I saw, I actually saw the whole town. The town is more pathetic than Purdue’s (no offense mates) West Lafayette. And this little puny town is going to be the home of UC’s tenth campus home. I wonder how the UC Merced’s future undergraduates are going to survive hell of boredom. On the bright side, at least Merced is much more better (notice the redundant superlative thingy or whatever they used to call it in grammar class) than Universiti Petronas back in whatever the town is called. And town at least has some aesthetic value. Boy, I am sure glad to leave that desolate university in order to attend Michigan. Digressing again…
The scenery during the first half of Merced-Yosemite route was the same as the Bakersfield-Merced route. We were in the huge valley still.
During the travel, I found out that Merced (before I forget, it is pronounced as ma-sed, not merced as in Mercedes) means mercy in Spanish, a name derived from Merced River. The Spaniard, back during their golden seafaring age, traveled all the way from the east coast to modern day California. As they walked and explored, their water supply started to dwindle. I would suspect that a lot of Spaniard soldiers died from thirst. And then, they found out that God still love them and therefore, they saw a sizable flowing water. And Voila! They call it Merced.
Furthermore, as I have said earlier, the yellowish grasses that fill the California are omnipresent. This is the actual reason why California is called the Golden State, instead of the famous gold rush that happened back in the 19th century.
As the terrain rose, some oaks started to appear on the hills along the road. Their density became dense slowly as we move further uphill. According to the conductor, we actually gained something like 4000 ft vertically. It was nothing really impressive but it was kind of hard to see how we had gained that altitude. Nevertheless, the gorges and the valley sighted from far above seemed to strengthen the fact, or at least the conductor’s words. And of course, Merced River flows on the left side of the road, down below.
It wasn’t until an hour or so until we reached Mariposa, a small old town situated almost in the high country. The town looks as though it had never progresses with time save a fairly modern bus station and a few noticeable satellite dishes. And of course, the cars but still, most of it were something from the 70s.
The bus made a stop at the town and later continued on with the journey. Oak density was getting out of hand until it seemed that they had formed a whole forest. The climb too had increased although I believe it was just around 20 to 30 degree.
It wasn’t until another hour till we reached the entrance to the Park.
There was a small ranger house at the entrance, giving out permit and that sort of stuff. The entrance to the Park itself magnificent, instead of a road with a gate, two rocks, which I can’t figure out whether it was naturally built or man made, sandwich the road, making it very tight to pass. The bus barely made it without a scratch.
Entering the Park was a great experience. Right after the sandwich rocks, we were greeted with a valley, apparently called Yosemite Valley with Merced Rived still flowing on the left side of the road. A few landmarks came up. There was a mountain top called the Three Brothers. It was called the Three Brothers since the mountain has three similar peaks. The first person to find it, a Red Indian chief saw it and somehow named each peak after his three sons. There were some other obscure details but I can’t recall it.
Then we finally reached the center of activity of the valley. First thing that was noticeable was how narrow the valley is with two sort of mountain ranges (the whole thing were still called Sierra Nevada. I thought it was the Rocky but in truth, it was a few hundred miles northward. In reality, the ranges are not ranges but merely a wall of mountains surrounding the Valley). Although it is a narrow valley, it is still wide enough to contain perhaps about 2000 or even more people at one time. The next noticeable landmark is the meadows. Green grasses cover most of the area where the conifer trees fail to grow at. While on the bus, I noticed that the meadows were under conservation project funded by Chevron. I simply smiled at the Industrialist’s hypocrisy.
It’s not that I think Chevron funding a conservation project is a bad idea. In fact, the Green needs every bit of help. However, the industrialist is doing too little to fight a non-petite problem. Similarly, how Bush is encouraging the development of fuel cell in order to fight the accelerated global warming. And also, in a way, they are only trying to shift public opinion on fossil fuel usage rather than having the conscience to actually help the public to fight the real problem.
Anyway, we saw El Capitan, one of the highest fall in the world (with the highest fall is Angel Fall in Venezuela), Yosemite Falls and dome shaped Half Dome rock.
We got off the bus some time before 1300, just enough time to call Leman on his mobile and told him to wait for us. Once that was accomplished, we went straight ahead to a nearly grill restaurant and filled our sorry stomach before the storm.
After we were filled, we met Leman later at the Valley Visitor Center. At the time we found him, he was chewing a bagel and talking to some guy whom was doing a geology research for UC. Once done chatting with that person, we when to the ranger place and apply for the wilderness permit with a bear can; a can that we needed to keep our food save from the black bear.
At this point, I was amused at the bear learning rate. I tell you it is fast. The black bears are able to open the normal screw head bottle. They are able to open all other stuff. Perhaps this is another reason why we need to keep the wilderness wild. A wilderness with a bear able to drive a car is certainly a civilized wilderness and scary
After attaining the wilderness permit, we conducted a search for a burner. The search was a failure and thus, we decided to go ahead with the hiking expedition without the burner. After all, we did have two lighters, a solid fuel and a lot of fire woods. It might sound polluting but hey, I fight for a sustainable growth, not for “back to the primitive” as some people had portrayed us falsely. Speaking of back to the primitive, Soulfly sucks big time.
With a full stomach and nothing bad going on yet, we decided to start out ascent to the top of Yosemite Fall at 1500.
And the pain begins here.
p/s - if you think Solar Car race is boring, check this out:
"Cal Sol (Berkeley) arrived last night. Just outside of Tucumcari yesterday afternoon while they were racing on the interstate a tractor-trailer sped by and blew off their canopy. Then the force of air inside the car without a canopy proceeded to blow off their solar array! It lifted up, turned 180 degrees, caught on their roll bar and came to a sliding stop behind the solar car. Fortunately, no one was hurt and neither was the array. It only has some scrapes on the underside. They trailered to Albuquerque to be on the safe side. The team says they will be ready to start again tomorrow morning."
Taken from American Solar Challenge, a report by Richard King from U.S. Department of Energy.
We brought a ticket to Merced via Bakersfield (LA – Bakersfield is connected by a connector bus) at the Los Angeles Union Station and later, chose a spot in the station to rest. I hadn’t slept yet so waking up till 0400 hours was a little tough to do. So, after discussing with Leman, we planned to meet up at the Park’s Visitor Center an hour after noon. If we failed to reach there by the agreed time, he was going to leave the Valley, our hiking starting point without us.
So, he left with the 0100 train and us.
We were all alone. At least it was better than the original plan. The original plan was designed before Epol join our little party. With Leman got the trip planned up a few months up front (it might be a few weeks but you get the idea), I didn’t get the chance to follow closely his steps from Ann Arbor to Detroit.
The original plan for me was to get a cab from Ann Arbor to Detroit, get on a plane to SFO Airport in San Francisco (home of many cool electronic companies, such as Blogger.com and of course somewhere around there, the Googleplex, Google’s HQ), get a bus to from the airport to Emeryville, situated across the bay and from Everyville, towards Merced. Plus, the ticket price to SFO was about 10 or 30 bucks cheaper. But with Epol joining in, the ticket price to LAX seemed to decrease and thus, the ticket issue went to the surface no more.
Well, we didn’t get mugged in the station nor did we lose anything but time certainly crawled. I fell reluctantly into slumber and later woke up because my back hurts. It was 0130.
Slept again, but the chair was so uncomfortable. It was 0200++.
Slept again, woke up and still it was not 0300.
Slept again, woke up and it was just about 0300.
Slept again, woke up and I said “OMG, time really crawl slower than snail.”
Time really crawled I tell you.
I was about to sleep again but then, I bought a pop (pop means soda, thanks to Mike from Cambridge 300++ for drilling the term into my head) and stayed up well till 0500++. By 0400, the connecting bus was here. The bus was very punctual even at 0400. I wonder if Malaysia’s bus service will ever get on par with US’ standard.
We got on the bus and the bus had only 4 passengers; they were me, Epol and two other black guys. As I said before, I slept in the bus at around 0500. Had a weird dream but forgot what it was about.
Later, at around 0600 or so, my two eyelids reopened and I was amazed by the sight outside the bus. Both to my left and right rose rocky rolling hills up into the dark morning sky. The hills seem to cooperate with each other to form a high wall on both side of the road. From a more logical thinking, most probably the civil engineers decided to cut by the side of the hills. But in any case, there were a lot of naturally built hills on both side of the highway. The most breathtaking event on the LA-Bakersfield journey was the way how the hills suddenly disappeared to open up a gale and from that gale, a long, huge valley was formed. With the grasses in the valley that you could only see in Western movies swaying , I did hold my breath for a few moments. And there was a small lake, might be more suitable to be called a big pond somewhere on the right side of the road. And I’d finally seen what I’ve read in book; the famous California Aqueduct. It looked like a huge drain but nevertheless, seeing something that shaped California’s history is something. There were a few moments during all this when I was about to ask the camera from Epol but seeing him asleep made me changed my mind. So, I sat all by myself enjoying the view before falling helplessly into dreams again.
We reached Bakersfield about an hour or so later. Bakersfield, what can I say? It looked like a typical American town you could see in old blank and white American movies. It gave me the creep although there was nothing scary about it.
We got off the bus and waited for the train to arrive. Took off a few photos and drank a cup of coffee to keep my spirit up a bit. I wasn’t downed. I was just plain sleepy. It wasn’t long before the train reached Bakersfield.
Just before we got onto the train car, a conductor gave us a tip to get on the first car. He said that the first car is usually empty. I said thanks and went for the first car. True enough, it was empty. We went for the car’s upper level and took up eight seats just for us, four each. Two for my big ass backpack and two for me with a table in the middle. Cool huh?
The train left the town some time after 0700, almost 0800.
And shit, I lost my note. This is what happens when you use tissue papers as writing papers. I used tissue papers as note papers because I forgot to get a note book from Ann Arbor and I can’t find anything in Detroit and in Houston. I’m digressing but since I can’t find my note, I’ll just have to write straight from my head. Here goes nothing.
When Bakersfield was out of sight, Epol and I gave the galley a visit. Bought a fillet and some drinks. It was not sufficient as a lunch but I guess that had to do for the time being.
Before I forget, the scenery on the way from Bakersfield to Merced was less spectacular than the rolling hills I saw outside of LA. However, it was still great. From the train, I saw all kind of plantations and it seems like the grove expands to the end of the horizon. Green grapes or whatever it was grew almost as tall as the train’s two-story car. The yellowish wheat, it might be just dry grasses, grew almost everywhere and odd enough, it was beautiful. This was the biggest plantation area and the biggest valley in the whole America and I saw it all from the ground.
It view outside the windows didn’t change a bit all the way from Bakersfield to Merced. It was green and then it was yellow, green, yellow and again green and yellow. Too much green and yellow made me fell to sleep slowly. I slept all the way until the conductor announced that Merced was the next station. Of the two days of travel, I found sleeping Amtrak train most comfortable.
We reached Merced Station around 1100 hours. Merced Station was definitely smaller than Ann Arbor’s. I asked the man behind the counter where I could buy a bus ticket to Yosemite. The man told me to just go outside and wait for a guy. Convincing indeed but I was an outsider. So, I just went outside and indeed there was a lady asking “Are you going to Yosemite?” I obviously say “Yes we are”. Sounds funnily like a covert operation but what the heck.
Later, the bus came and picked us up. From there on, off we go to Yosemite.
The ride to Yosemite Valley was cool. The bus driver was talkative like hell, worse than the cab driver back in LA. Nevertheless, the driver was at least informative.
As we were about to leave Merced, I saw, I actually saw the whole town. The town is more pathetic than Purdue’s (no offense mates) West Lafayette. And this little puny town is going to be the home of UC’s tenth campus home. I wonder how the UC Merced’s future undergraduates are going to survive hell of boredom. On the bright side, at least Merced is much more better (notice the redundant superlative thingy or whatever they used to call it in grammar class) than Universiti Petronas back in whatever the town is called. And town at least has some aesthetic value. Boy, I am sure glad to leave that desolate university in order to attend Michigan. Digressing again…
The scenery during the first half of Merced-Yosemite route was the same as the Bakersfield-Merced route. We were in the huge valley still.
During the travel, I found out that Merced (before I forget, it is pronounced as ma-sed, not merced as in Mercedes) means mercy in Spanish, a name derived from Merced River. The Spaniard, back during their golden seafaring age, traveled all the way from the east coast to modern day California. As they walked and explored, their water supply started to dwindle. I would suspect that a lot of Spaniard soldiers died from thirst. And then, they found out that God still love them and therefore, they saw a sizable flowing water. And Voila! They call it Merced.
Furthermore, as I have said earlier, the yellowish grasses that fill the California are omnipresent. This is the actual reason why California is called the Golden State, instead of the famous gold rush that happened back in the 19th century.
As the terrain rose, some oaks started to appear on the hills along the road. Their density became dense slowly as we move further uphill. According to the conductor, we actually gained something like 4000 ft vertically. It was nothing really impressive but it was kind of hard to see how we had gained that altitude. Nevertheless, the gorges and the valley sighted from far above seemed to strengthen the fact, or at least the conductor’s words. And of course, Merced River flows on the left side of the road, down below.
It wasn’t until an hour or so until we reached Mariposa, a small old town situated almost in the high country. The town looks as though it had never progresses with time save a fairly modern bus station and a few noticeable satellite dishes. And of course, the cars but still, most of it were something from the 70s.
The bus made a stop at the town and later continued on with the journey. Oak density was getting out of hand until it seemed that they had formed a whole forest. The climb too had increased although I believe it was just around 20 to 30 degree.
It wasn’t until another hour till we reached the entrance to the Park.
There was a small ranger house at the entrance, giving out permit and that sort of stuff. The entrance to the Park itself magnificent, instead of a road with a gate, two rocks, which I can’t figure out whether it was naturally built or man made, sandwich the road, making it very tight to pass. The bus barely made it without a scratch.
Entering the Park was a great experience. Right after the sandwich rocks, we were greeted with a valley, apparently called Yosemite Valley with Merced Rived still flowing on the left side of the road. A few landmarks came up. There was a mountain top called the Three Brothers. It was called the Three Brothers since the mountain has three similar peaks. The first person to find it, a Red Indian chief saw it and somehow named each peak after his three sons. There were some other obscure details but I can’t recall it.
Then we finally reached the center of activity of the valley. First thing that was noticeable was how narrow the valley is with two sort of mountain ranges (the whole thing were still called Sierra Nevada. I thought it was the Rocky but in truth, it was a few hundred miles northward. In reality, the ranges are not ranges but merely a wall of mountains surrounding the Valley). Although it is a narrow valley, it is still wide enough to contain perhaps about 2000 or even more people at one time. The next noticeable landmark is the meadows. Green grasses cover most of the area where the conifer trees fail to grow at. While on the bus, I noticed that the meadows were under conservation project funded by Chevron. I simply smiled at the Industrialist’s hypocrisy.
It’s not that I think Chevron funding a conservation project is a bad idea. In fact, the Green needs every bit of help. However, the industrialist is doing too little to fight a non-petite problem. Similarly, how Bush is encouraging the development of fuel cell in order to fight the accelerated global warming. And also, in a way, they are only trying to shift public opinion on fossil fuel usage rather than having the conscience to actually help the public to fight the real problem.
Anyway, we saw El Capitan, one of the highest fall in the world (with the highest fall is Angel Fall in Venezuela), Yosemite Falls and dome shaped Half Dome rock.
We got off the bus some time before 1300, just enough time to call Leman on his mobile and told him to wait for us. Once that was accomplished, we went straight ahead to a nearly grill restaurant and filled our sorry stomach before the storm.
After we were filled, we met Leman later at the Valley Visitor Center. At the time we found him, he was chewing a bagel and talking to some guy whom was doing a geology research for UC. Once done chatting with that person, we when to the ranger place and apply for the wilderness permit with a bear can; a can that we needed to keep our food save from the black bear.
At this point, I was amused at the bear learning rate. I tell you it is fast. The black bears are able to open the normal screw head bottle. They are able to open all other stuff. Perhaps this is another reason why we need to keep the wilderness wild. A wilderness with a bear able to drive a car is certainly a civilized wilderness and scary
After attaining the wilderness permit, we conducted a search for a burner. The search was a failure and thus, we decided to go ahead with the hiking expedition without the burner. After all, we did have two lighters, a solid fuel and a lot of fire woods. It might sound polluting but hey, I fight for a sustainable growth, not for “back to the primitive” as some people had portrayed us falsely. Speaking of back to the primitive, Soulfly sucks big time.
With a full stomach and nothing bad going on yet, we decided to start out ascent to the top of Yosemite Fall at 1500.
And the pain begins here.
p/s - if you think Solar Car race is boring, check this out:
"Cal Sol (Berkeley) arrived last night. Just outside of Tucumcari yesterday afternoon while they were racing on the interstate a tractor-trailer sped by and blew off their canopy. Then the force of air inside the car without a canopy proceeded to blow off their solar array! It lifted up, turned 180 degrees, caught on their roll bar and came to a sliding stop behind the solar car. Fortunately, no one was hurt and neither was the array. It only has some scrapes on the underside. They trailered to Albuquerque to be on the safe side. The team says they will be ready to start again tomorrow morning."
Taken from American Solar Challenge, a report by Richard King from U.S. Department of Energy.
Sunday, July 20, 2003
186.1
The trip to Yosemite National Park was one of the greatest adventures in my life. My description might sound cheesy but nevertheless, it is true.
It all started during the last few weeks in the spring semester while I was heading to the Graduate Library to do some revision on economics. On the way, I met Leman and he invited me to join me on a hiking trip in Yosemite. I accepted his invitation somewhat on the spot without much thinking. I guess when you have the money, you tend not to think how you are going to spend it.
Later, I influenced Epol to join me. As a result of my try, he decided to drop summer semester and fly up towards California.
A week before the flight to Los Angeles, both Epol and I bought lots of camping stuff and in the end, spent more than a hundred buck. With the ticket to and fro LA, the total became something like USD400.
During the preparation period, a problem struck us. The backpacks that we ordered on the net failed to reach our hand on time. We were worried but the bags somehow arrived a few hours before our flight. Thus, we only started to pack up merely four hours before our plane left DTW airport. I managed to pack all the things up but saved the sleeping bag. The sleeping bag was a stubborn item and it took me some time to figure out how to force it into the backpack.
Fortunately, I managed to keep the time right on track and got on a cab with Leman and Epol for Detroit at around 1500 hours on July 1st.
The trip to the airport from Ann Arbor took about an hour and USD40. I as usual, didn’t sleep and stayed awake all the way to the airport.
By the time we reached the terminal, we had two more hours to burn. A good cushion for us but nonetheless, we decided to check in early. Leman bought his tickets from Northwest Airlines while we (that were Epol and I) had Continental’s. So, we went our separate way and decided to meet up at LAX.
All went well until I started to feel that bad luck loves me a lot. We had gotten our boarding passes and went straight for the check in gate. At the gate however, a woman in a stewardess’ uniform told us that our backpacks were too large for the on board compartment. By this time, I felt a little bit irritated since I had asked the person at the counter nicely “Could I just bring my backpack on board with me?” and she said yes. And now, the person at the gate said no. B-E-A-utiful.
Wanting no scene, I adhered to the person and went back to the counter to check in my 50 lbs backpack. Once the bag was checked in, I had only a small plastic bag as my hand luggage.
Confident that nothing wrong would come to me afterwards, I walked straight to the security gate, the jinx of my life. See, I have never ever passed a security check successfully in the post 911-era. I was stopped at the security check at the Empire State Building, at the United Nations Building and now, at DTW. I was no doubt, at that time feeling very annoyed. Plus, I had to wait for nearly 15 minutes to be checked thoroughly by the police officer.
Moments later, I passed the security check and only to found out Epol trying to hold back a laughter in front of me. I checked my hand luggage to make sure that everything was there. To my surprise, I had my knife in the bag and it got through. I was checked thoroughly, yet the knife got through. Talk about security!
Nothing else unexpected happened and so, we boarded our plane and headed for IAH in Houston, Texas. Epol got the window seat while I was sandwiched in the middle. Other than that, everything went fine.
We reached Houston a few hours later and hopped onto another plane for LA. There was nothing worth mentioning on our flight to LA saved that I beat the computer more than five times in chess before I decided that the computer in the 747 was the dumber than a 16 bit Commodore computer. And o, LA’s view during the evening from high above the sky was magnificent. The darkness suddenly succumbed to light as the city limit was approached slowly. It was as if God said “Let there be light, and there was light”. It was for this reason that I stayed awake throughout the journey. I suffered due to the lack of sleep but every second of the sight worth more than a million dollar.
We were airborne and the next moment, for the second time in my life, I’d landed at LAX airport.
It felt so good to be back on the ground after being cramped in the place for more than six hours. After a good stretching, Epol and I went to baggage claiming area only to be delighted to find Leman there. It didn’t take long for us to get our backpacks and followed the planned that was earlier laid out back in Ann Arbor.
We left LAX by bus in hope to reach the LA Union Station and guess what? Bad luck loves me. After awhile on the bus, we found out that there was actually no bus stopping at the Union Station. Just my luck.
We got off the bus at around midnight in the middle of concrete jungle. LA was dead and we were in the middle of nowhere with a 50 lbs bag on our back. We were lost and decided to ask for some direction. I came up to this one guy and asked for the way to Union Station. This guy gave us the direction to the ghetto.
Luckily, Leman didn’t trust him and went for a second opinion. The second guy finally gave the right direction but that bad news was, it was seven blocks away. I know that I’d once walked something like 15 blocks in Manhattan in the middle of the night but with a huge ass backpack on my back, I don’t think I could handle a mugger in LA’s ghetto very well.
It wasn’t until a few minutes later that God smiled on us. We saw a cab and decided it’s better to burn twenty bucks on a cab rather than being mugged. While on the cab, the driver couldn’t seem to shut the hell up.
By the time we reached the Union Station, it was already the 2nd of July.
And by this time, I thought I had already broken up with bad luck but the luck couldn’t just accept the break all the sudden. Leman got a ticket for a 0100 train to Merced but Epol and I was told that the train was all booked up and the next available train was on 0400. With no choice, we had to take what was left for us to scour. And so, we had to sleep at the Union Station until 0400.
What a luck but wait, it will get *better* as the journey continues. Stay tune for __earth’s adventure in the wilderness of Yosemite.
The trip to Yosemite National Park was one of the greatest adventures in my life. My description might sound cheesy but nevertheless, it is true.
It all started during the last few weeks in the spring semester while I was heading to the Graduate Library to do some revision on economics. On the way, I met Leman and he invited me to join me on a hiking trip in Yosemite. I accepted his invitation somewhat on the spot without much thinking. I guess when you have the money, you tend not to think how you are going to spend it.
Later, I influenced Epol to join me. As a result of my try, he decided to drop summer semester and fly up towards California.
A week before the flight to Los Angeles, both Epol and I bought lots of camping stuff and in the end, spent more than a hundred buck. With the ticket to and fro LA, the total became something like USD400.
During the preparation period, a problem struck us. The backpacks that we ordered on the net failed to reach our hand on time. We were worried but the bags somehow arrived a few hours before our flight. Thus, we only started to pack up merely four hours before our plane left DTW airport. I managed to pack all the things up but saved the sleeping bag. The sleeping bag was a stubborn item and it took me some time to figure out how to force it into the backpack.
Fortunately, I managed to keep the time right on track and got on a cab with Leman and Epol for Detroit at around 1500 hours on July 1st.
The trip to the airport from Ann Arbor took about an hour and USD40. I as usual, didn’t sleep and stayed awake all the way to the airport.
By the time we reached the terminal, we had two more hours to burn. A good cushion for us but nonetheless, we decided to check in early. Leman bought his tickets from Northwest Airlines while we (that were Epol and I) had Continental’s. So, we went our separate way and decided to meet up at LAX.
All went well until I started to feel that bad luck loves me a lot. We had gotten our boarding passes and went straight for the check in gate. At the gate however, a woman in a stewardess’ uniform told us that our backpacks were too large for the on board compartment. By this time, I felt a little bit irritated since I had asked the person at the counter nicely “Could I just bring my backpack on board with me?” and she said yes. And now, the person at the gate said no. B-E-A-utiful.
Wanting no scene, I adhered to the person and went back to the counter to check in my 50 lbs backpack. Once the bag was checked in, I had only a small plastic bag as my hand luggage.
Confident that nothing wrong would come to me afterwards, I walked straight to the security gate, the jinx of my life. See, I have never ever passed a security check successfully in the post 911-era. I was stopped at the security check at the Empire State Building, at the United Nations Building and now, at DTW. I was no doubt, at that time feeling very annoyed. Plus, I had to wait for nearly 15 minutes to be checked thoroughly by the police officer.
Moments later, I passed the security check and only to found out Epol trying to hold back a laughter in front of me. I checked my hand luggage to make sure that everything was there. To my surprise, I had my knife in the bag and it got through. I was checked thoroughly, yet the knife got through. Talk about security!
Nothing else unexpected happened and so, we boarded our plane and headed for IAH in Houston, Texas. Epol got the window seat while I was sandwiched in the middle. Other than that, everything went fine.
We reached Houston a few hours later and hopped onto another plane for LA. There was nothing worth mentioning on our flight to LA saved that I beat the computer more than five times in chess before I decided that the computer in the 747 was the dumber than a 16 bit Commodore computer. And o, LA’s view during the evening from high above the sky was magnificent. The darkness suddenly succumbed to light as the city limit was approached slowly. It was as if God said “Let there be light, and there was light”. It was for this reason that I stayed awake throughout the journey. I suffered due to the lack of sleep but every second of the sight worth more than a million dollar.
We were airborne and the next moment, for the second time in my life, I’d landed at LAX airport.
It felt so good to be back on the ground after being cramped in the place for more than six hours. After a good stretching, Epol and I went to baggage claiming area only to be delighted to find Leman there. It didn’t take long for us to get our backpacks and followed the planned that was earlier laid out back in Ann Arbor.
We left LAX by bus in hope to reach the LA Union Station and guess what? Bad luck loves me. After awhile on the bus, we found out that there was actually no bus stopping at the Union Station. Just my luck.
We got off the bus at around midnight in the middle of concrete jungle. LA was dead and we were in the middle of nowhere with a 50 lbs bag on our back. We were lost and decided to ask for some direction. I came up to this one guy and asked for the way to Union Station. This guy gave us the direction to the ghetto.
Luckily, Leman didn’t trust him and went for a second opinion. The second guy finally gave the right direction but that bad news was, it was seven blocks away. I know that I’d once walked something like 15 blocks in Manhattan in the middle of the night but with a huge ass backpack on my back, I don’t think I could handle a mugger in LA’s ghetto very well.
It wasn’t until a few minutes later that God smiled on us. We saw a cab and decided it’s better to burn twenty bucks on a cab rather than being mugged. While on the cab, the driver couldn’t seem to shut the hell up.
By the time we reached the Union Station, it was already the 2nd of July.
And by this time, I thought I had already broken up with bad luck but the luck couldn’t just accept the break all the sudden. Leman got a ticket for a 0100 train to Merced but Epol and I was told that the train was all booked up and the next available train was on 0400. With no choice, we had to take what was left for us to scour. And so, we had to sleep at the Union Station until 0400.
What a luck but wait, it will get *better* as the journey continues. Stay tune for __earth’s adventure in the wilderness of Yosemite.
Friday, July 18, 2003
185
I don’t get it. What’s with reality TV show? What’s actually with the reality idiot box show that makes people watch it?
First it was Survivor back in the late 90s. I thought it was a good show but as time passes me, I became more and more similar to a libertarian and later felt that the idea of watching people’s life is disturbing. My idea of privacy finally matured after reading 1984 by George Orwell. Thus, I would shout without shame nor fear that this so-called reality show is for people of whom do not want nor deserve freedom of privacy.
Seeing people in their private life, or whatever these days that happens in the supposedly reality TV is certainly disgusting. It’s like a stalker stalking some stranger. Of course, in the TV program, the real people, fake just like the mannequin used in some cheap horror movie, know that they are or will be on national TV. I have nothing against these fake people, the ones that are being stalked. But the stalkers… the TV audiences… Argh! I have too many things to say that I don’t even know where to start. Let me just list down reasons why I look down upon these reality idiot box show.
First, are they too stupid to ACTUALLY believe the lies prepared and baked by the entertainment media? No wonder some people actually believe whatever Fox TV is reporting! Yes, yes! Eat everything the media feed us. To resist is to piss in the wind – anyone who does ends up smelling they say! HAH! Resist I say. RESIST IDIOTS! Resist for your own sake.
Secondly, yes some of these reality TV fans might come up by saying “we all know that the thing is a gimmick. It’s just a TV program”. That still doesn’t change the fact that these fans are enjoying the notion of reality TV. What if I observe, scrutinize all the idiot box lovers over the net? How about letting me install a CCTV inside your house, your room or better yet, your bathroom for my pleasure? I could just say that I am enjoying a reality TV show. Certainly there is nothing wrong with it, isn’t?
There are a number of other reasons but I would say the two that I’ve mentioned are the biggest reasons. Due to these reasons, my blood will almost always boils whenever a person whom is having a conversation with me and ask, “who do you think will win? Roger or Carol?” I will most certainly ask “who are they?” (most likely "wtf r they?") and a reply flies from the person throat “the Bachelor” or “Survivor” or some sort of other latest show. Then, the golden moment, “you should watch it, everybody is watching it. It’s the thing right now”.
ARGH!
It’s okay to watch the television in order to have some fun now and then but when you are addicted, when you are being conditioned to sit in front of the idiot box 24/7 or 10/7 or whatever the numbers will be, you are becoming an idiot yourself. An idiot who thinks that you are free to do whatever you wish. In reality, you are doing whatever the moguls wish.
The next time somebody is talking about reality idiot’s box show, I assert you to say, “I do not wish to become an idiot without a fight”.
Listen all reality idiot box show fans, you are not free. Your mind is trapped and is controlled by the entertainment moguls. They are making money at your expense. Don’t cave in. Don’t surrender and be a drone. Don’t surrender to the mogul and become an ass among the masses. The masses are asses.
Now, I sound like a troubled man. Sigh…
p/s - Yet another for the Mirror Project.
I don’t get it. What’s with reality TV show? What’s actually with the reality idiot box show that makes people watch it?
First it was Survivor back in the late 90s. I thought it was a good show but as time passes me, I became more and more similar to a libertarian and later felt that the idea of watching people’s life is disturbing. My idea of privacy finally matured after reading 1984 by George Orwell. Thus, I would shout without shame nor fear that this so-called reality show is for people of whom do not want nor deserve freedom of privacy.
Seeing people in their private life, or whatever these days that happens in the supposedly reality TV is certainly disgusting. It’s like a stalker stalking some stranger. Of course, in the TV program, the real people, fake just like the mannequin used in some cheap horror movie, know that they are or will be on national TV. I have nothing against these fake people, the ones that are being stalked. But the stalkers… the TV audiences… Argh! I have too many things to say that I don’t even know where to start. Let me just list down reasons why I look down upon these reality idiot box show.
First, are they too stupid to ACTUALLY believe the lies prepared and baked by the entertainment media? No wonder some people actually believe whatever Fox TV is reporting! Yes, yes! Eat everything the media feed us. To resist is to piss in the wind – anyone who does ends up smelling they say! HAH! Resist I say. RESIST IDIOTS! Resist for your own sake.
Secondly, yes some of these reality TV fans might come up by saying “we all know that the thing is a gimmick. It’s just a TV program”. That still doesn’t change the fact that these fans are enjoying the notion of reality TV. What if I observe, scrutinize all the idiot box lovers over the net? How about letting me install a CCTV inside your house, your room or better yet, your bathroom for my pleasure? I could just say that I am enjoying a reality TV show. Certainly there is nothing wrong with it, isn’t?
There are a number of other reasons but I would say the two that I’ve mentioned are the biggest reasons. Due to these reasons, my blood will almost always boils whenever a person whom is having a conversation with me and ask, “who do you think will win? Roger or Carol?” I will most certainly ask “who are they?” (most likely "wtf r they?") and a reply flies from the person throat “the Bachelor” or “Survivor” or some sort of other latest show. Then, the golden moment, “you should watch it, everybody is watching it. It’s the thing right now”.
ARGH!
It’s okay to watch the television in order to have some fun now and then but when you are addicted, when you are being conditioned to sit in front of the idiot box 24/7 or 10/7 or whatever the numbers will be, you are becoming an idiot yourself. An idiot who thinks that you are free to do whatever you wish. In reality, you are doing whatever the moguls wish.
The next time somebody is talking about reality idiot’s box show, I assert you to say, “I do not wish to become an idiot without a fight”.
Listen all reality idiot box show fans, you are not free. Your mind is trapped and is controlled by the entertainment moguls. They are making money at your expense. Don’t cave in. Don’t surrender and be a drone. Don’t surrender to the mogul and become an ass among the masses. The masses are asses.
Now, I sound like a troubled man. Sigh…
p/s - Yet another for the Mirror Project.
Wednesday, July 16, 2003
Tuesday, July 15, 2003
183
I am currently torn apart by the failure suffered by the team and I've decided to to fight this failure by fighting in Green's name more aggresively. I do not know how yet but maybe finally joining Greenpeace officially.
News by AP on ASC 2003:
Solar-Powered Car Race Opens in Chicago
Mon Jul 14,10:39 AM ET
By DON BABWIN, Associated Press Writer
CHICAGO - The grounds of the Museum of Science and Industry had the look of pit row on race day Sunday, but the cars crossing the starting line bore more than a passing resemblance to giant envelopes on wheels and their fuel comes from the sun, not the pump.
The American Solar Challenge started when a team from Kansas State University became the first from 20 U.S. and Canadian colleges to hit the road in a 2,300-mile race that will end in about 10 days in Claremont, Calif. Drivers will spend most of their time on the way to California on historic Route 66.
"The strategy is to go as fast as you can and look for potholes," said John Blessing, a crew member for KSU's car. "You really feel every pothole, that's the truth."
The race sponsored in part by the U.S. Department of Energy (news - web sites) features cars that were years and, in some cases, well over $100,000 in the making. Made of the lightest and strongest materials the students can find, including the Kevlar used to make bulletproof vests, the cars can weigh as little as 400 pounds, students said.
The cars' sleek bodies rest just inches off the ground, allowing them to slice through the wind efficiently. The vehicles are powered by the 3,000 or so small solar cells that cover them.
They can easily travel over 50 mph and can climb past 70 mph under the right conditions, students said.
News from the American Solar Challenge by ACS 2003:
REPORTS FROM THE ROAD — July 11, 2003
Last year's winner Michigan fails to qualify
By Richard King
U.S. Department of Energy
BURLINGTON, Wis., July 11, 2003 - Since I know a lot of you will be going home for the weekend soon, I wanted to share some breaking news.
The University of Michigan, last year's winner and defending champion, did not pass scrutineering and is out of the race. The servomechanism that powered the steering failed and the car is unable to turn safely out of traffic.
École Polytechnique de Montreal also did not pass scrutineering. That team's car has stability problems and poor brakes.
As of 2:30 p.m. , teams are frantically driving laps as they try to complete the 140 miles (61 laps) necessary to qualify. Yale, McMaster, Iowa State, and Western Ontartio look "iffy" and might not make it.
I dedicated this post to the University of Michigan Solar Car Team.
We will come back stronger.
p/s - Another one of my works published in the Mirror Project.
I am currently torn apart by the failure suffered by the team and I've decided to to fight this failure by fighting in Green's name more aggresively. I do not know how yet but maybe finally joining Greenpeace officially.
News by AP on ASC 2003:
Solar-Powered Car Race Opens in Chicago
Mon Jul 14,10:39 AM ET
By DON BABWIN, Associated Press Writer
CHICAGO - The grounds of the Museum of Science and Industry had the look of pit row on race day Sunday, but the cars crossing the starting line bore more than a passing resemblance to giant envelopes on wheels and their fuel comes from the sun, not the pump.
The American Solar Challenge started when a team from Kansas State University became the first from 20 U.S. and Canadian colleges to hit the road in a 2,300-mile race that will end in about 10 days in Claremont, Calif. Drivers will spend most of their time on the way to California on historic Route 66.
"The strategy is to go as fast as you can and look for potholes," said John Blessing, a crew member for KSU's car. "You really feel every pothole, that's the truth."
The race sponsored in part by the U.S. Department of Energy (news - web sites) features cars that were years and, in some cases, well over $100,000 in the making. Made of the lightest and strongest materials the students can find, including the Kevlar used to make bulletproof vests, the cars can weigh as little as 400 pounds, students said.
The cars' sleek bodies rest just inches off the ground, allowing them to slice through the wind efficiently. The vehicles are powered by the 3,000 or so small solar cells that cover them.
They can easily travel over 50 mph and can climb past 70 mph under the right conditions, students said.
News from the American Solar Challenge by ACS 2003:
REPORTS FROM THE ROAD — July 11, 2003
Last year's winner Michigan fails to qualify
By Richard King
U.S. Department of Energy
BURLINGTON, Wis., July 11, 2003 - Since I know a lot of you will be going home for the weekend soon, I wanted to share some breaking news.
The University of Michigan, last year's winner and defending champion, did not pass scrutineering and is out of the race. The servomechanism that powered the steering failed and the car is unable to turn safely out of traffic.
École Polytechnique de Montreal also did not pass scrutineering. That team's car has stability problems and poor brakes.
As of 2:30 p.m. , teams are frantically driving laps as they try to complete the 140 miles (61 laps) necessary to qualify. Yale, McMaster, Iowa State, and Western Ontartio look "iffy" and might not make it.
I dedicated this post to the University of Michigan Solar Car Team.
We will come back stronger.
p/s - Another one of my works published in the Mirror Project.
Monday, July 14, 2003
182
The news just came out yesterday. It is quite tough to say it out or even type it. SpectruM suffered a steering damage during a qualification run for American Solar Challenge 2003 in Wisconsin. As a result, University of Michigan Solar Car Team, the winner of American Solar Challenge 2001, the reigning champion is not competing in the ongoing race that started yesterday.
Below is Josh Harmsen’s email the sponsors and to the team members:
Friends and Sponsors,
It breaks my heart to announce this, but Michigan will not be participating in the 2003 American Solar Challenge. While qualifying for the race this last week in Wisconsin, the car suffered steering system failures which did not allow SpectruM to qualify for and enter the race.
Although not being able to compete in this summer's ASC was devastating to all those involved with the project, the team is committed to using this experience as a building lock for future success.
This is not the end for SpectruM! According to ASC race officials, SpectruM is "one of the most advanced and innovative Solar Cars ever built."
During the next month, the team will be displaying SpectruM and the team's sponsors at the Concourse D'Elegance auto show in Cranbrook, the Woodward Dream Cruise and the Management Briefing Seminars in Traverse City.
The team is also exploring the possibility of racing SpectruM this October in the World Solar Challenge in Australia, as well as participating in the inaugural 2004 Phaethon Hellas Solar Rally held in Greece before the 2004 Summer Olympic Games in Athens.
On behalf of the team, I would like to thank you for your continued support. We look forward to working together with you to achieve continued and future success.
Thanks and GO BLUE!!!!
Josh Harmsen
Project Manager
University of Michigan Solar Car Team
The news just came out yesterday. It is quite tough to say it out or even type it. SpectruM suffered a steering damage during a qualification run for American Solar Challenge 2003 in Wisconsin. As a result, University of Michigan Solar Car Team, the winner of American Solar Challenge 2001, the reigning champion is not competing in the ongoing race that started yesterday.
Below is Josh Harmsen’s email the sponsors and to the team members:
Friends and Sponsors,
It breaks my heart to announce this, but Michigan will not be participating in the 2003 American Solar Challenge. While qualifying for the race this last week in Wisconsin, the car suffered steering system failures which did not allow SpectruM to qualify for and enter the race.
Although not being able to compete in this summer's ASC was devastating to all those involved with the project, the team is committed to using this experience as a building lock for future success.
This is not the end for SpectruM! According to ASC race officials, SpectruM is "one of the most advanced and innovative Solar Cars ever built."
During the next month, the team will be displaying SpectruM and the team's sponsors at the Concourse D'Elegance auto show in Cranbrook, the Woodward Dream Cruise and the Management Briefing Seminars in Traverse City.
The team is also exploring the possibility of racing SpectruM this October in the World Solar Challenge in Australia, as well as participating in the inaugural 2004 Phaethon Hellas Solar Rally held in Greece before the 2004 Summer Olympic Games in Athens.
On behalf of the team, I would like to thank you for your continued support. We look forward to working together with you to achieve continued and future success.
Thanks and GO BLUE!!!!
Josh Harmsen
Project Manager
University of Michigan Solar Car Team
Sunday, July 13, 2003
181
I found a dead-tree, first edition, hard cover Green Mars, an installation one of the greatest sci-fi trilogy in the 90s and bought it for USD5 at Dawn Treader. I've been searching for the Martian Trilogy by Kim Stanley Robinson for years in Malaysia but now, I even found a first edition hard cover Green Mars. If you are wondering how precious this book is, even Borders doesn't have any hard cover edition of Red Mars, Green Mars or Blue Mars.
It's a collection edition and I've bought it for merely USD5. OMG. OMFG! OOOMFG!
I think I'm going rich. At home back in Malaysia, I have a coin that dated back to the Straits Settlements and now, here in Ann Arbor, I have one of the greatest sci-fi novels in hard cover. Now, the hunt for dead-tree, first edition, hard cover Red Mars and Blue Mars has begun.
p/s - The __earthinc is still in renovation stage. I haven't written a code for the gallery section yet.
I found a dead-tree, first edition, hard cover Green Mars, an installation one of the greatest sci-fi trilogy in the 90s and bought it for USD5 at Dawn Treader. I've been searching for the Martian Trilogy by Kim Stanley Robinson for years in Malaysia but now, I even found a first edition hard cover Green Mars. If you are wondering how precious this book is, even Borders doesn't have any hard cover edition of Red Mars, Green Mars or Blue Mars.
It's a collection edition and I've bought it for merely USD5. OMG. OMFG! OOOMFG!
I think I'm going rich. At home back in Malaysia, I have a coin that dated back to the Straits Settlements and now, here in Ann Arbor, I have one of the greatest sci-fi novels in hard cover. Now, the hunt for dead-tree, first edition, hard cover Red Mars and Blue Mars has begun.
p/s - The __earthinc is still in renovation stage. I haven't written a code for the gallery section yet.
Wednesday, July 09, 2003
180
Currently in the City of Angels, updating from a friend's place in Adams Blvd. after more than six days stucked in the extreme wilderness (with one day alone in the woods, up in the mountain with bears and mountain lions and not to forget, countless of mosquitoes - without food. Details to come when I reach Ann Arbor later this week, or next week.) Despite the name, I see more devils here more than anywhere else. Of course, the beaches are full with angels, or bitches, depending on your interpretion.
Later.
Currently in the City of Angels, updating from a friend's place in Adams Blvd. after more than six days stucked in the extreme wilderness (with one day alone in the woods, up in the mountain with bears and mountain lions and not to forget, countless of mosquitoes - without food. Details to come when I reach Ann Arbor later this week, or next week.) Despite the name, I see more devils here more than anywhere else. Of course, the beaches are full with angels, or bitches, depending on your interpretion.
Later.
Tuesday, July 01, 2003
179
Upwards and onwards.
In my case, upwards and westwards. I’m off to California and to be specific, I’m off to Yosemite National Park for more or less ten days. The journey to visit the huge red sequoia will start at 1500 tomorrow.
I’ll be leaving Ann Arbor for Detroit at that time and from Detroit, Houston will be my next stop before finally setting my feet in Los Angeles for the second time. From there on, to a town called Merced and straight on to Yosemite.
Once done with California, I’ll be preparing for the Art Fair since I’ve volunteered for the event to fill up my summer with something. Then, it will be fall semester all over again. Sigh…
Anyway, I’ve always thought girls were angels. Of course there were some bitches but bitches were simply some bug in the matrix if you will. It turns out later that even girls watch pr0n. A person said that a girl watches pr0n due to curiosity but a boy actually enjoys it. 41gh+. I bet I'm more innocent than some girls. To some girls in Wisconsin, you are pr0n 133+!
Whatever.
Upwards and westwards I say.
"Never saw the Sun, shining so bright, never saw things, going so right"
- Irvin Berlin
Upwards and onwards.
In my case, upwards and westwards. I’m off to California and to be specific, I’m off to Yosemite National Park for more or less ten days. The journey to visit the huge red sequoia will start at 1500 tomorrow.
I’ll be leaving Ann Arbor for Detroit at that time and from Detroit, Houston will be my next stop before finally setting my feet in Los Angeles for the second time. From there on, to a town called Merced and straight on to Yosemite.
Once done with California, I’ll be preparing for the Art Fair since I’ve volunteered for the event to fill up my summer with something. Then, it will be fall semester all over again. Sigh…
Anyway, I’ve always thought girls were angels. Of course there were some bitches but bitches were simply some bug in the matrix if you will. It turns out later that even girls watch pr0n. A person said that a girl watches pr0n due to curiosity but a boy actually enjoys it. 41gh+. I bet I'm more innocent than some girls. To some girls in Wisconsin, you are pr0n 133+!
Whatever.
Upwards and westwards I say.
"Never saw the Sun, shining so bright, never saw things, going so right"
- Irvin Berlin
