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Happy birthday, Mom.

We've had a great hike this summer.  I've met some amazing people, and I've even met people (this impresses and scares me a little) who think I'm amazing.  Partly because of the hike; sometimes because they know I'm bringing a little part of you along.  Not the part that matters--that part I always carry, and so does my brother, and Dad, and everyone else who loves you.

By the time this post goes live, we'll be most of the way through New Hampshire, and may even be in Maine. I don't get many opportunities to get online, so I have to guess a couple weeks in advance when I might be anywhere.  There are several people looking forward to meeting me in Maine, and even crossing the finish line with us.  They take my guesses and make whatever plans they need to make; I know how we'll get there.

I think of you every day. I miss you every day.  I have you with me every day.

And even when the ashes have all been scattered, I will still have you with me every day.  Because raising a kid isn't just about getting them to be their own person; it's about being a great enough person that they want to be a little like you, and keep a part of you with them forever.  At least, that's the way you and Dad did it, and I'm proud to see parts of each of you in myself every day.

Love always,
Ry

Watch your step

Just two pictures of random sidewalk art today, and a reminder to watch where you put your feet--sometimes there are neat things down there.

A koi pond in North Shore, near San Francisco's Chinatown.

Fan art a block or so from the California Academy of Science

Bay Walks

After a six-hour flight to California this spring, we needed to walk.  Between the BART station and our hotel, we stumbled onto our first great find of the trip when we decided to get lunch at Lefty O'Doul's.  Talking with local friends at dinner the next night, we found out that Lefty's is a local institution.  That was nice to know, but we had already convinced ourselves that it was a good place to eat when a trio of SFPD cops sat down at the table next to ours.

We dropped our bags at the hotel and set out on foot, against the advice of the local tourist center lady who warned us, "it's pretty hilly."  She's a marathon runner.  I was eleven days from starting the Appalachian Trail.  She was going to have to try harder to scare us.

I wanted to see Coit Tower, because it was the only thing I had wanted to see on my previous trips to SF that I still hadn't visited.  We walked north until we saw the tower, and adjusted our course accordingly until we arrived at the top of Nob Hill, in front of a sign informing us that the tower was closed, and would be until April.  We still had a pretty commanding view of the city and the bay.

I'm pretty sure this bridge is famous.

I was a little disappointed, but maybe it will be open the next time I'm in town.

Coit Tower, designed to look like the nozzle of a fire hose, is a monument to firefighters.

We worked our way down the hill to Fisherman's Wharf, where we engaged in our usual harborside activity of picking out boats we can't afford and planning a life at sea aboard them.  I think the topside deck should be large enough for basking with a drink and a book.  I also think every ship that has a crow's nest is automatically ten percent cooler.

My camera has a lot of cool features, which I am still learning.

When I toured Alcatraz many years ago, I was disappointed with everything The Rock got wrong about the prison.  I'm still ok with the car chase.

I made a joke about how they had given up and ceded entire docks to the sea lions only moments before we saw a sign telling us that's exactly what happened.  Apparently, the sea lions were happy with the territory they controlled, because we didn't see them anywhere else.

I pocketed the free samples I was offered at Ghiradelli square for later consumption, but we ate the ice cream sundae there.  They don't keep well.  To preserve The Girl's legs for her marathon, we took the 30 bus back to our hotel, where we read in a tourist guide that "the 30 bus through Chinatown is an experience in itself."  To us, it was just another (recommended) adventure we stumbled into without trying.  I think we have a knack for finding great things to do.  Come to think of it... Lefty's and the bus were both her idea.  Maybe I don't have the knack after all?

The Dainty Dilemma

All I wanted to do was go to the mailbox and send in my insurance payment.  That's it.  The task was simple enough, but I couldn't even make it out of the building before being introduced to a unique dilemma by what I found on the stairs.  To be honest, I don't know that they were ladies' underwear.  I assumed as much, because dude underduds tend to have less lace, and generally consist of more material and provide greater coverage.  Even if we assume that the garment were intended for female use, it's still possible that it was owned by a guy in the building, for reasons I don't care to explore at this time.

What's protocol in this situation?  Wander the building like Cinderella's prince, looking for the girl who fits the dainties?  I don't see that going well.  I felt like I shouldn't just ignore them, because they were in an ideal position to be trod upon.  I finally just scooped them up with the envelope and let them slide off to hang on the post at the end of the banister and went about my day, satisfied that I had at least done something, and happier still that I avoided contact with a stranger's most intimate garment.

A couple hours later, I left the building on a new errand and saw that they had disappeared.  Suddenly curious, I went to the laundry room, where the building has a sign-up sheet for laundry times.  Nobody had been scheduled since 10 the previous evening.  The stairs had been clear first thing in the morning, when I drove The Girl to the metro.  Apparently, they fell out of someone's pocket.

I don't know what to think about this.

in the dark

Camp was still almost three miles ahead of me, and the sun was already dipping below the treetops.  That happens much sooner in the mountains, because the roots of the trees are sometimes well above your head.  You lose daylight quicker when you're below the horizon.  I've been out in the dark an awful lot on camping and hiking trips, and I take a certain pride in might night vision, so I wasn't worried.  Besides, I felt like I could use the practice, in case my headlamp batteries died at some inopportune point next year.  That was the point of all my training hikes: to help me prepare for whatever might happen during my thru hike, often by carrying more than I knew I needed for a short trip, or changing my menu plan.  Walking in the dark was just another useful thing to practice.

While it was still dusky I startled two deer who were almost close enough for me to take a bite out of them.  When they launched through the brush, I saw a third join them, further from the trail.  I was a little startled, too, but I was more focused on closing the distance between me and a campsite before it got prohibitively dark.  Most of the leaves were still on the trees, so I couldn't count on much light from stars or the moon to guide my way.

In daylight, the Appalachian Trail is generally very well marked.  You'd have to try really hard to get genuinely lost.  At night, you have to be more aware of context clues, because you can't always see the next blaze.  If the trail is fairly straight, it's easy.  It gets more difficult when you start switchbacking down a mountainside.  A gap between trees straight ahead can distract you from the sharp dogleg to your right, and unless you realize the footing just changed from beaten path to sticks and leaves, you're in trouble.  After a couple moments when I had to look around me, squinting in the darkness, to be sure which way I needed to go, I gave up and put on my headlamp.  Maybe ten minutes later I gave up again, and switched it from red to white light.  The brighter beam let me see much more, but it ruined any chance of retaining my natural night vision.  However, it also let me move much more quickly.

I was clipping along pretty well, having had a calorie-packed snack I knew would replace my cooked meal in camp, when I heard a grunting noise ahead of me, slightly to the right.

I know the word "literally" gets thrown around an awful lot these days, often improperly used, and it makes me crazy, but I literally skidded to a stop.  Whatever that noise was, it wasn't something my brain could immediately identify, like a treefrog, or an owl, or even the demented laughter of a pileated woodpecker, and that gave me pause.  Immediate pause.  A pause which locked my legs in position, leaving my feet no option other than dirt-skating until all momentum was lost.  My headlamp caught eyeshine about fifteen feet ahead of me, and once the critter moved a little and I saw the second eye, I knew I was ok.  They were far enough from the ground to make a large animal a possibility, but too close together to be anything that bore me a serious threat.  When I got closer, I managed to surprise him with the light just long enough to tell it was a raccoon, as I suspected once I saw both eyes.  I laughed at myself, and kept going.  After the scare the raccoon gave me, I wasn't fazed at all by the skunk I saw fifteen minutes later.  Sure, I slowed down and waited for him to get out of range, but he didn't manage to spook me like his arboreal friend.

The shelter was full when I arrived, and the whispering people eating dinner told me the people sleeping in there were already asleep when the diners arrived.  They said there was still room for me and my pack, but I knew there had to be tent sites nearby.  I kept my light low on the ground, so as not to disturb any tent campers already asleep, and found a good site between two guys I met late the next next day.  I made camp quickly, hung my food bag, and went to bed.  It was dark.  What else was I going to do?

I always have trouble sleeping through the night, but it's different in the woods.  In town, I wake up to hear traffic or people.  In the woods, I wake up to the chirring chorus of bugs.  Later in the night, when even the bugs had gone to sleep, I heard a conversation between some treefrogs (I didn't mean to eavesdrop--I just like the sound of their voices).  Much later, I heard a barred owl reciting soliloquies in the dark.  Just three reasons I love being in the woods at night.

The Furious Primate Speaks

"Oh my gosh!!  Did you see that?  That was SO GREAT, you guys!  Totally hilarious!  Seriously, did you see that?"

"Of course I saw it, I'm standing right here, looking at you."

"Yeah yeah yeah, but did you see that?  I was just sitting here, right?  Right here, up on this step, and then--are you watching?  Are you listening to this?--then, when I picked up my feet, I TOTALLY slid on my butt down to this step, and it caught me COMPLETELY by surprise!  I was all, 'whoa, BOOM!'  HA!!  Honestly, it spooked me a little at first, but really, it was so much fun!"

"Yeah, I know, dude.  I was here the whole time, remember?  I'm the one who put you on the stair, and you ran into my leg when you slid down here.  How could I miss that?"

"Oh, it's really too bad you missed that.  Had to be there, I guess!  Hahaha!  Hooooboy, good times, man!  Good times!"

"You're not even listening to me, are you?"

"Right on my butt!!  Boom!  Pow!  Keister-rama!  HA!  Good thing I wear diapers, amiright??  Plenty of padding back there!  Matter of fact, there might be a little extra padding right now, knowhutimean?  Big breakfast this morning!  HA!!  Get it?  I mean I pooped!"

"Do I even need to be here for this?  I get the feeling this conversation only has one side."

"Nonononono!  Wait, man, wait!  This is good stuff!  You should hear this!  Stay right there, ok?  Ok?  Ok!  Haha, remember that time I slid on my butt down the stairs?"

"You mean that time twenty seconds ago, right before you told me this story?"

"HA!  You know what it reminds me of?  Guess what it reminds me of.  I'll tell you what it reminds me of!  Remember this morning, when we were hammering, and I got that hammer you told me to put down, but I hammered with it anyway?  It was this hammer right here!  I hammered like this!"

"No, you've got to turn it around.  You can't hammer with the claw side.  Here, like this."

"Yeahyeahyeah, I got this.  Back off, chief!  So I was hammering, right, like this?"

"Over here, please, not on the stairs."

"Sure, whatever, over here, yeah.  So I was hammering like this, and then the nail got out of the hole, and went all kerpowww!! and went over there, and then it bounced down the stairs!  Remember that?  It bounced all the way down the stairs!  HA!  That was great!!  CLASSIC me, amiright?"

"Uh-huh, sure, you bet.  Listen, we're all done for the day, and your dad has to give me a ride home now.  Do you want to go with us, or stay here with your mom?"

"Say what??  Cracker, please!  I know you chumps!  You're going somewhere fun, I am IN, dude!  LET'S ROLL!!"

"Okey-doke.  Let's get your coat.  Arms in here.  No, other arm goes there.  Good.  Here, have a seat, I'll get your shoes on.  Say good-bye to your mom."

"Later, baby!  We're off to really wild and exciting things!  Don't worry, I'll tell you all about it later!  After you post bail for us.  HAHAHA!!  Man, I kill me!  Post bail!  Oh, that is rich!  You should be writing this down.  Off we go!"

"Got both your arms in there?  No, the arms stay in those straps."

"HEY!!  Where are you going??  You've gotta go, too!  You can't just strap me in here and LEAVE!"

"Relax!  I'm sitting up front.  Let me finish buckling you in, and I'll get in up there, and then we can go, ok?  Your dad's already got the engine running.  Just give me a sec, all right?"

"Yeah, ok.  If you say so.  Hey, are you guys tired?  I'm not.  No, sirree.  Not remotely tired, uh-uh.  I'm so awake, I think I'll sing for a little bit.  Can I get a key?  No?  Ok, I'll do it myself.  Ahem.  This is the song of not sleeping!  I sing it because I'm awake!  This is the song of not....  snnxxxxxxxx..."

I got to spend a lot of time with my nephew in January while helping my brother with some home improvement projects.  He (my nephew, not my brother) has a habit of telling you long, detailed stories about That Funny Thing That Just Happened even if you were right there to witness it.  However, at the time his vocabulary was mostly vowel clusters and grunting, so we rarely had any idea what he was saying unless we could interpret his hand gestures.  I believe the account above is fairly accurate.

Getting our Science on

While we were in California for The Girl's most recent marathon, we got to spend an entire day (we were waiting in line when they opened, and left less than an hour before they closed, but I could have stayed longer and been quite happy) at the California Academy of Science, in Golden Gate Park.

The Borneo River Toad is the size of a grapefruit with legs, which still only makes it the second-largest toad I've ever seen.

Do you like science?  Do you like museums?  Do you plan to go to California, ever?  Then go to the California Academy of Science.  In fact, go right now.  Make that the reason for your trip.  If you plan it right (as we did), you'll get to see everything.  Planetarium shows are included with admission, but tickets are first-come, first-served, so get your tickets as soon as you're in the door.

The rain forest exhibit is swarming with birds and butterflies roaming free, and dozens of different insect, reptile, and amphibian species in tanks.

The planetarium is one of two huge spheres on the main floor of the museum.  The other is the phenomenal rain forest exhibit, with species representing several different rain forest environments.  The Girl got tired of me lurking at every terrarium, looking for all the brightly-colored frog species, but she's never been to a large reptile/amphibian display with me; she didn't know that that is my way.  But those tanks were at the top of the spiraling ramp that led us up through the rain forest layers; when we entered, we were at ground level, and when we crossed the first bridge, I looked down to see enormous fish below us, and people below them.  The exit from the rain forest's canopy was an elevator that took us below the biosphere (literally!  HA!) to the aquarium exhibits, including the tunnel that ran under the rain forest above.

Every kid in the place could identify three fish species: Nemo, Dory, and Gil.  Imagine what Pixar could do if they started making educational films!

The aquaria were as comprehensive as the rain forest: tidal pools, rain forests, coral reefs, swamps, and freshwater environments were all represented.  They had a small tank of jellyfish, which I like if only because I remember how much Mom liked the exhibit they once inhabited at the Columbus Zoo, and several varieties of sea horses and sea dragons.  I also found more frogs.

The Waxy Monkey Tree Frog is the most appropriately-named amphibian I have ever encountered, but I was more impressed by how much they look like people.  Creepy people.

We saw a talk on snakes and their varied reproductive methods (with live snakes), a presentation on swamps featuring Clyde the Albino Alligator (he was not the presenter, but he is pretty famous), a penguin feeding (live penguins, dead fish, live people), and a planetarium show on dark matter and dark energy narrated by the rock star of astronomy, Neil deGrasse Tyson.  Because it is California, there is also an exhibit on earthquakes that lets you stand in a house while two famous earthquakes are simulated (not simultaneously).

Clyde is a big deal.  You can buy a plush version of him in a stunning variety of sizes.

I had read a lot that morning about the building itself, and all of the sustainable practices that went into its construction.  The most obvious element is the green roof, which you can actually access to view closer, though of course I forgot to take any pictures while I was up there--I was just too darned excited at the time, I guess.

The large dome on the right is above the rain forest.  The matching dome on the left is over the planetarium, so it didn't need as many skylights.