My Bittersweet Long Walk

Enjoying Re:Train today. It's awesome to hear Justin Holcomb, Dave Bruskas, and Dave Helm.  They were very helpful.  I also had the privilege to give Peter and Amy a backstage tour of the Ballard Campus of Mars Hill.  They got to see how all the production gets done and the reason behind the way we do what we do.

But this week was an amazingly illuminating week:  I am selfish.

On Thursday, I officially handed off Church Cleanup to Skyler.  I have led the ministry since March of 2010.  Wow 18 months of leading the best group of servant leaders in Mars Hill.  I saw men and women go from shy first-timers to deacons, community group leaders, and Sunday team leaders.  Honestly discipleship was the best part of what I had the chance to participate in.  Pointing people to Jesus and seeing him transform them, it's the best.  People like Mike, Rod, Abby, Ginni, Woodstock, Red Bird, Fried Chicken, King Raven, Paper Crane, King Fisher, Blue Heron and all the rest (we used bird-based radio call signs).  They saw what worship looks like and they joined our little community to serve.  None of these volunteers will ever be put on stage and recognized for their selfless service, but they all deserve it.  I love these guys and gals and I was sad to leave them.  I desire for all of them to continue to make progress and grow in their faith. As much as I'd like to stick around, Skyler needs his space to own this ministry and serve these people.  I plan to be a consultant and serve him as needed, but now it's his baby. There were 33 people who came out to serve on my last night.  This is a great sign for our Fall push!
Every time I start a task, ministry, or friendship my goal is always to finish well.  I am so honored to have done just that in my conclusion to leading Church Cleanup (this is what my leadership told me, I'm not assessing myself).
I felt a desire to hold onto the ministry last night.  It's like I wanted to keep this role all for myself rather than giving it over to a great guy who loves these people.  I wanted to be selfish.

That same bittersweet night I also received a very gracious email from a friend who affirmed and redirected our friendship, yet again I felt a drive for selfishness.  What about me? To quote Pastor mark, "What about you?!"  I am really not that big of a deal.  God is a big deal, but I really think too much of myself. I mean who am I? Just another short brown kid from yet another broken home who grew up off food bank skim milk and the neighbors' extra peanut butter. God has brought Luke 22:1-23 to mind.  Pastor Dave Bruskas preached this section on August 28th.  Basically this section shows how Jesus' plan is better than my plans. Even if literal death (like the horrible death of Dave's little boy) or a figurative death is the next step.  His plan is better than mine. I am trying to believe this, but God will need to work more in my heart. I'm not saying that I am worthless and have no future.
I guess I'm just saying I need to be realistic and know my place.  After all, the definition of the word humility is literally "to know ones place".  Oh, but please don't think I'm in any way humble.  If I have ever come off as humble, just wipe that brief moment out of your mind; it was likely a deception designed to make me look pious.  Hmm, that might be the first and last time I ever use the word pious.

So with the misty feelings and fond memories being replayed in my heart, I walked all the way home to West Seattle. I put my trip into Google Earth and it said it was 11.8 miles.

I must have been walking slowly because it took me 4 hours 21 minutes to complete. I started at 11:03PM, after locking up Ballard for the last time. I just needed time to think.  Down near the Victoria Clipper, I stopped and watched a Great Blue Heron stealthily stalk fish and quickly swish in to make an amazing catch. Down past the China Shipping piers, I stopped again to chat idly to a feral cat with the foam of rabied maddness dripping from its mouth. I walked past no less than two dozen scattered homeless men and their assorted gunna. I watched a road crew clear out last year's collection of beer bottles and refuse from the little fishing spot on the Duamish River.  I walked around a gang of drunken men who had just come out of the bars and were starting to slur and sling arguments over whose motorcycle went faster.  My walk reminded me of a song by Atmosphere, Shhh:

This is for everyone around the planet
That wishes they were from somewhere other than where they standin'
Don't take it for granted, instead take a look around
Quit complaining and build something on that ground
Plant something on that ground, dance and sleep on that ground
Get on your hands and knees and watch the ants walk around

I love the patch of dirt that's mine, regardless of the hard stuff I need to wrestle with from time to time I've still got a hope and someone to talk it all out with.  But dang it! My selfishness is absolutely ridiculous.

So today I gave up the Church Cleanup set of keys to Mars Hill Ballard.  This ends my era. As I listen to some great Re:Train teaching, I must conclude that life sucks so hard and is really pretty fantastic at the same time.

The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments ['cause life goes quick, you blink and you'll miss it]

Alaska Days 3-4

A little update from my life, Peter has moved into my house. Very exciting.  He flew in last night from Stuttgart, Germany and will spend the next 13 months as an unpaid intern for Mars Hills' West Seattle Church. He is a nice guys and he seemed excited when I invited him and Amie (sorry if I misspell that) to go out shooting this Saturday.

Miles: 2,548.3
Average MPG: 19.3
Gallons: 136.04
Bears and Wolves: 4
Alaska Beards: 3
Miles Hiked: 0

So I believe sufficient time has passed to continue to write about Alaska. I am not a historian, I really don't need to wait until all the participants' grandchildren die of old age before enough distance has passed to yield sufficient perspective.
So we drove on to Denali from Fairbanks. The rolling hills of the plains slowly gave way to the more rugged and more lush landscape of the highlands.  As we entered and cleared Healy the massive peaks of Denali National Park came into view. Clouds hovered ominously not unlike the fly-in scene in  Jurassic Park. We cruzed into the park and hit the Mercantile.  I booked 6 nights in Reilly Creek Campground. Unfortunately there was not an open site that night (total fail on my part, I should have called ahead).  So we packed ourselves back in the Traverse and headed South were there was sure to be a good campground.  There was it was called Grizzly Bear Recreation Area and RV Park. Think about that for a second...a recreation area for grizzly bears.  Hmm most folks might realize the not-so-subtle implication about staying at this place, but that didn't phase us.  After some shenanigans, we got a remote campsite over-looking the Nenana River and setup the mondo-tent (Thanks Erik) and a smaller tent.  After we all had our showers, we retired. I failed to sleep in the Traverse that night.

I woke first and started cooking some Bisquick pancakes and some bacon.  As we all awoke, we found the previously mentioned hood ornament (see the song bird). After leisurely packing up, we drove up to Denali NP and picked out our campsite for the next 6 nights.  We reset our tents and decided we needed to go out and buy some tarps since the weather forecast called for rain for the next week.
So I asked for any volunteers to go help me find some tarps.  Yulia stepped forward, so the two of us struck out. I drove past Healy AK without even noticing it and we ended up in the city of Anderson. As I look at Google Maps to assist my memory, the military base near Anderson looks suspicious. A large gravel mine, few barracks, and one heck of a radar array and some odd looking buildings, LINK. So the tarps, the poor navigation, and clandestine facilities aren't the point. The point is that I had the chance to share my whole messy story with Yulia. All the sin and my odd and resistant journey to Jesus. She asked probing questions and showed me grace when I named my sin and described who I was before Jesus. As an aside, I don't like to share my story, but I hate living in secret, so I pursue transparency, even though it feels like being stripped naked before a stranger as I hear the accusations echoing through the long abandoned corridors of my memory.  If I don't reject the lie against my identity in Jesus, then I spiral into despair.  But the truth is that I am forgiven, adopted, and cleansed and all my sins have been taken away.
So as Yulia (and Tina too) later told me my story sharing prompted them to share their own struggles and their own story.  Yulia is a woman who has been through hell, but knows her identity. I admitted I gritted my teeth as she shared, nothing gets me angry like foolish men who are dishonorable. So I eventually admitted my own folly as we looked at the map.  We swung back to Healy, bought two inexpensive tarps and roared back to Denali.
Nick had already been busy with some 550 cord (parachute line, and the exact same line that I used in my little picnic several weeks later). We ended up covering the picnic table and laying tarps under the tents. We had a lazy night as we cooked some of our beef in a A-1 and Ketchup sauce with some instant mashed potatoes.  We totally feasted on some s'mores.  We retired early-ish, and I tried to sleep again the the Traverse, but only managed a few hours.

Mount Adams We meet Again...For the First Time

Miles: 598.6
Miles Hiked: 13.1
Miles Glissaded: 3.5
Group Size: 10

I apologize for interrupting the Alaska account, but I just got back from Mount Adams (the same one I summitted twice in a week last summer) and it was a whale of a time! Well, it was more of a large volcano covered in loose ash, pumice, basalt, and ice; kinda less like a blubbery mammal.
So with 5 days notice on Facebook and The City, I got 9 other folks to join me on a summit attempt. I just got back from Alaska, so I didn't promote very well.
Matt and I left Seattle at 10:30AM on Friday after packing up. We pounded a Monster and Code Red and plunged into Eastern Washington, stopping only to marvel at a Super Wal-Mart. We arrived at the Ranger Station for the Gifford Pinchot National Forest at 4:30PM and got our fancy Human Waste Bags (you must pack out all your "contributions" from the national forest) and paid the $15 fee for all 10 folks.
On the access road out to the trail head, we pulled over and performed conflict resolution tests on an unsuspecting tree. My ears rang until after we got back from the hike.

After getting turned around, we finally got to Cold Springs Camp Ground and setup the tents. We spent an hour-and-a-half gathering wood and had a massive pile ready for when the 2nd and 3rd wave of hikers arrived. We then wandered off and decided that we had better use the axe we brought. So we tried to fell a dead tree. We tried 4 different trees and failed four times. This forest is not a tall forest, but rather a tough forest that is buried under snow 9 months out of the year. Conditions like this ensure that only trees with superior toughness survive, thus the cellulose fiber composition is particularly dense...At least that is what I told myself when I failed to fell the fourth tree. I am kind of like a Corgi, my torso is average size (except not), but I have itty-bitty legs; not unlike Ray William Johnson. Those proportions don't lend themselves to logging.

 So after failing, Matt and I lit the fire with a little "cheating juice". We then laid on the ground and watched 4 satellites sail across the sky and 3 meteorites burn their way across the moonless night. Once I knew the 2nd wave and 3rd wave folks were close I started the bacon...We cooked 8 pounds of bacon (1/2 a pound was lost in a friendly-fire event) and enjoyed every severely or moderately scorched piece. Mad props to Michael Frank, he totally rocked his bacon. The grease fire raged, but his came out perfect.

We retired with a little wine, and I starred at the tent's ceiling for 5 hours until it was time to wake up, but the insomnia gave me a nice opportunity to pray through some stuff.
Saturday morning we hit the trail at 7:37AM (after pictures and my little overview of the route). We made great time up to Echo Bowl (with the non-existent wind the echos were particularly good) and shouted "Echo!, Are you ready to Rumble?!, 'Merica, A British Tar!" for a while.
Nick set his own pace and nine of us jumped ahead to rest at Lunch Counter (9025ft). Joel found a Tungsten wedding ring sitting in the wind shelter. Either some recently divorced dude chucked it or a raven snagged the shiny "Ring of Power" off a rock while someone was applying sunscreen.
Once we broke the break, I was the first one on the slog-slope. Now let me tell you about this slope. It is nasty. It is cruel and it is mean. In about 1.5 miles of travel, you gain about 1,950 feet on slippery compacted snow and ice. You are completely exposed to the wind and the glare off the pure china-white combined with the noon-day radiance usually come together to fry, freeze, and exhaust even the most avid hikers. For a sub-par hiking pretender like myself this slope destroyed me. Now let me brag on God, he totally hooked all nine of us up, there was NO WIND!. Seriously none, I cannot emphasize how rare that is especially at 11,000ft (3,352m for my British cousins).
So even though I left first, I arrived 3rd to last. I was wrecked by that slope. Greg and Melissa decided to enjoy a lovely nap at Piker's Peak instead of summitting, I can't blame them, the windless false summit at 11,657ft might be the most romantic place in North America to spend an hour-and-a-half visiting with your beloved.

The story with the name for the false summit is kinda like those demotivational posters you might have seen.  Nick's favorite is this one:

7 of use tried for the summit and we all made it. Matt gave me some kind encouragement as he passed, and I really needed it. On the last 900ft from the valley between the false summit and the true summit I became enraged. Some freakin' joke of a man was cussing out his wife (or girl friend, or sister).  He started swearing at here after they had passed me and were 300ft below and descending. Man I get so angry when a man rages at a woman. He was blatantly violating 1 Peter 3:7 (a verse I have been meditating for a few weeks), he showed no honor and was not understanding. I'm not gonna lie, I prayed that 1 Peter 3:7b come true for that piece of...  Imprecatory prayers, wow. Man, nothing gets my back up like violence (physical or verbal) directed at a woman.
Anyways, I was dead last up to the summit (and nearly dead). I was at least 10 minutes behind every onle else (my concept of time was skewed because I was totally focused on making the next step and trying to slow my heart-rate down). I prayed for God to give me the grace of reaching the summit, but more importantly for His will to be done.  But God came through and totally hooked me up (Oh, the Gatorage "GU" gell is a crock, it didn't have any noticeable effect on me). At the 12,281ft top there was a infinitesimal amount of wind, maybe 2 mph.  That is unheard of!  Both of my previous summit here were greeted with bone-chilling 20-35mph wind gusts with a minimum of 15mph sustained. Again it was an unparalleled day to summit.  There were NO clouds only haze on the horizon allowing an unrestricted 360 degree view of Rainier, St.Helens, Hood, and Jefferson peaks.
At the top, the other guys were crazy gracious waiting for me before taking THE summit pics.  Apparently, their tradition is the "Skin Shot" at the top of whatever they climb. It's not a bad tradition to start for Volcano Summits.

As soon as it was time to partake of the summit toast (1oz of Mango Rum, 1oz of Coconut Rum, 2oz of Courvoisier VSOP Cognac (my favorite was the cognac, mmm mmm)), Matt Behr led us in a rousing manly rendition of Doxology:

Praise God From Whom All Blessings Flow!
Praise Him All Creatures Here Below,
Praise Him Above All Heavenly Hosts!
Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost!

The tradition of the summit toast is longstanding for Nick and I. Man, I missed him up there. His knee was just not willing to let him summit. There is just something right about a little alcohol to celebrate the assent to a peak.
All 9 of us sledded down in record time.  I went from 11,657ft to 9,754ft traveling 1.2 miles in 8 minutes!!! All sliding down a 28% grade. It was a blast!

And here is my destroyed Sled:

We hustled down the mountain and we saw this beautiful sunset near the base.

I was feeling like crap from the False Summit all the way down.  I had vertigo, nausea (but I held it in), blurred vision, very little lung capacity (I was coughing like a chain smoker if I took too deep of a breath), and a plaguing cramp on the inside of my left quad.  I kept praying the formal and pietistic supplication "Dad Fix it!" Yeah, if you guys heard how I pray you'd totally roll your eyes and shake your heads. We got to the campsite after dark and quickly packed up for the return trip to Seattle. We all shook hands and agreed the hike totally kicked tail.
Matt, Nick, and I all hit up a truck stop for some food and Nick had to drive back to Seattle, I was in no condition to drive. For the second night in a row I didn't sleep only shut my eyes and lost myself in the morass of my mind and semi-stochastic musings of what God's will may be. Some kind words kept returning to mind, "Love God and do whatever you please" -Augustine. Yeah but you don't understand, if I actually trust that whatever God's will is will be accomplished when I delight in him first, then I don't have any control over the course of events....*wink... sarcasm and conviction go hand in hand*
So the three of us hit Seattle around 4:35AM, and I was showered and in bed by 6:20AM...only to get up at 7:35AM to get to church.  Right now it is 12:45AM the next day And I have slept 1.75 hours out of the last 66.25 hours.  I may be considered "sleep deprived". Pftt! That's nothing, my personal best was 87.5 hours of continuous consciousness, and the last 8 hours of that I drove from Oregon to Seattle along the Coast. Um bragging about not sleeping, now it should be obvious why the Bible has nothing positive to say about young men. Not one thing. But you say what about 1 John 2:14?!  Well young men are strong (well most of them are, the pictures above rule me out of this category). So the young men can be terrorists...that's not necessarily a complement.
Ooh one more thing to crowd this already sesquipedalian mess of a blog post.  In church the Holy Spirit totally used my fatigue by opening my mind/gut to this amazing little song my Kelsey Bernheisel. I don't even know the name of the song but here are some quotes excerpted: "We are broken, shipwrecked in the storm" "Father you set us free" "Father you are our hope" "Jesus you are all we have" "Father come and fill us up take our idols".  I know without the lyric sheet these seem pretty generic, but it meant something to me and broke me up inside.
Um I think that's all I want to type. Typos are all intentional. Yes even that one that's still bothering you.
Random Pictures Without Explanation:

 This spastic writer thanks Rodrigo Y Gabriel for their invaluable riffs and harmonies which contributed to the overall tempo of key strokes.

Alaska Days 1-3

Miles: 2,384
Average MPG: 19.2
Gallons: 124.17
Bears and Wolves: 4
Alaska Beards: 3
Miles Hiked: 0

Well we made it to Denali National Park...technically a private campground just outside the park called Grizzly Bear Campground. It's a brisk night with a low of about 48F.  We are camped overlooking a beautiful river and are enjoying the soft ripple of water over smooth stones. Yulia, Nick and Mirella drove very well and covered the bulk of the distance.  My specialty was the night time sections.  I remember a little road trip I took in college with Trevor, Lili, Sam, Joe, and Jean.  They killed the days and I owned the night (the trip was from Hillsdale Michigan out to South Padre Island, 30 hours of sweet blacktop).
For some inexplicable reason I have been blessed with excellent sight (20/10 right and 20/20 left) and, when properly caffeinated, very good reflexes. So I love the night drives.
We only had one little issue on the way up (besides a few minor wrong turns), the Canadian Mounties!? On the U.S. / Canadia (YES! the proper name for "Canada" is Canadia, or America's Hat, or that loft apartment above a really great party) border we hit a little problem.  When the border agent asked for our passports and an explanation of how all the passengers knew each other he got suspicious and told us to pull over to the parking area.  We complied and went inside the 1960s era facility. A stone-faced Asian Mounty asked me to explain how these disparate people all happen to be going to Alaska. I felt his subtle implication loud and clear: you must be smugglers trying to get some of that chine-white American common sense into the warped world of Canadia...and I won't let you, Eh!
While he and his comrades in Mounty-dom removed every last piece of gear from our car and using the most sophisticated techniques known to a Canadia-ian, a portable X-ray machine (no doubt loaned from the U.S. Border Patrol) found that we are really boring people, no booze, knives, tactical nukes, or copies of Calvin and Hobbes Revenge of the Baby-Sat (this book must be illegal in Canadia where anything fun must be viewed with suspicion, apparently including some Alaska-bound crazies in a rental car with Colorado plates). During my interroga-...I mean "cordial interview" with the Mounty, his questions led me to explain the hierarchy and organizational structure of Mars Hill Church.  I thought that was hilarious, but I tried to keep a straight face. My 5 month internship under the executive elders and their assistant really came in handy.
After surviving the Mounties, we snagged some snacks and dropped the Traverse in gear to cross the great wastes of Vancouver Before Christ and the desolate Yukon. Along the way I played California by the band Phantom Planet which Tina convinced us to change to "Laska, Laska...Laska, Laska, Oh here we come!"
I also made the mistake of self-disclosure. I told two stories that led to the creation of a mad inside joke. So in an attempt to kill an inside joke by making it a Google-able outside joke, here goes:
I was once studying with my grad school colleague Greg Teplow.  We were studying in a coffee shop (propably Zoka in U Village) and my tall and 30% African American buddy turns to me and says in a bold voice, "You Sir are a Racist!" And he immediately goes back to his notes and books.  I an sitting there kinda stunned and trying to avoid eye-contact with all the curious people looking at the little mostly white looking guy with the tall mostly black looking dude as they mentally place bets on how many second it will take the white guy to die after the black guy leaps across the table.  Greg was totally joking but the awkward reaction in the coffee shop was priceless.  Another odd story comes from my buddy Joe Seaver who had a brother who inspired him. When someone sneezes in most of the English speaking world the proper response in to say bless you but what do you say when someone coughs?  Joe's answer was brilliant: "SHUT UP!".  So I disclosed these two stories to my travelling companions.  So for the rest of the trip Josue led us in a chorus of "Shut up you racist!" Or "Shut up Sir" Or "Racist Cough-er" at random times for no apparent reason.  It was great fun. On highway 37 we saw 4 black bears just on the side of the road. At Whitehorse Yukon Terrotories, we enjoyed a nice meal at Earl's Restaurant.  They actually gave me a sweet design idea for my house.
We made the Canadia / Alaska border at 4AM and after a laugh with the lone border patrol agent over how bad Canadia's roads are and the majesty of the Alaska state bird (the mosquito) we were back in the land of awesomeness. American roads are far better than Canadia-ian roads and actually are crowned so the rain water actually runs off of it instead of pooling.
By noon of the third day we had resupplied in Fairbanks and turned South to Denali.
Now some Pics:

 The Park Sign

 I managed to pick up a hood ornament.

An example of the beauty we encountered on the drive North

Special thanks to Bardo Pond, and my old musical friend Mogwai for providing the tunes for this blogging experience.

Longest Bike Ride

Miles Run:122.9

Miles Biked:129.09

Miles Hiked:8.70
Total Miles:260.69
Stadium Stairs Run*:2244
Steep Steps Run*:1340
Days to Rainier:104
Summit Team:7
Aspirin Tablets:42

My week has been fun. My work, which is in a secret location, has been very varied and allowed me to share a little bit of the Gospel with my not-yet-Christian friends. I even got to build a library system for a pastor with a 1,600 volume library. Hopefully in two weeks his entire library will be digitized.

I even went on my longest bike ride yet from my house in West Seattle to the new Shoreline Campus of Mars Hill (25.7 miles). The first event at Shoreline's new home was a lecture/sermon by Sam Storms in the topic of spiritual warfare. The talk was awesome (check it out at http://bit.ly/fame6u). Their facility is amazing. It seats 357 people with additional overflow rooms. Their children's space is huge with plenty of space to grow. Donald bought me teriyaki; that was soo kind and soo amazing, I was blown away by his generosity. Charlie and Lacey gave me a ride all the way back to West Seattle. Then I hade the highlight of my entire day! The back door was wide open at 10:30PM. I got to do a room by room clearing drill! So much fun.

The downside of the week is that my summit team is in decline. I lost my guide, who has been to the top; he is no longer able to lead us up Mt. Rainier. So unless I can find a new leader, our team has no first-hand knowledge of what lies above Camp Muir. I know only 40% of the route. I cannot lead this team in good conscience up to the top. So if no leader emerges, I will have to call off this adventure again. That means a fourth failed season.

I am considering soloing Rainier. I cannot endanger my team. But I am in the best shape of my life and I will be more-than ready for a summit. I know a secret campground at Camp Muir which will enable me to avoid the Ranger checkpoint. I can then cross Cathedral Gap onto the razer ice field on Ingram Glacier. After traversing the steep field, I can scramble up Disappointment Cleaver to the longest 2 miles of my life as I work up to the Caldera. Then circle to the true summit.

I can do this alone. But if anything goes wrong, if I slip, if I get disoriented, if the volcano produces nasty lenticular clouds or storms I might not come back because there will be no one to help me.

I can't invite someone else to join me on this journey. I can't ensure their safety.

Oh and Easter is only two weeks away! 20,000 people will come to Qwest Field on April 24th 500 will be baptized, the biggest church service in the history of the Pacific Northwest! Come. It will be amazing!

Sickness = Reading

Miles Run:122.9

Miles Biked:85.99
Total Miles:208.89
Stadium Stairs Run*:2244
Steep Steps Run*:1340
Days to Rainier:108
Summit Team:8
Aspirin Tablets:42

Woke feeling like crap today, called in sick to work. So I read all of Steinbeck's The Pearl and 1/3 of Alexis de Tocqueville's Democracy in America while trying not to think of throwing up. After recovering, I ran 7.07 miles.

Blog Outline:

I. Preparing to Build

II. Wedding

III. Night Hike

IV. Steven's Pass

V. The Pearl

VI. Democracy in America

VII. Super Awesome Good News

I. Week before last I was assigned the fun task of reading a book and summarizing it as part of my internship. The title was Preparing to Build. So I got to learn about how a church can first perform a successful feasibility study, set specific building goals, identify a specific vision, communicate this vision to the church body, raise funds, and then search for the land, designer, and builder for the new building. The non-disclosure forms I happily signed before beginning my internship deny me the pride-inducing revelation of why this book needed to be "cliff-noted" for the elders, but it's pretty sweet. I really appreciated learning and being honored to prepare this doc.

II. Two of my friends got married week before last, so I shaved off my beard and threw on my tux and shades. When I showed up to the wedding, only those who have spent a lot of time with me knew me (mainly just my community group). The rest who had just seen me around or briefly conversed with me didn't recognize me. I introduced myself to everyone as "Tony." I was amazed how many people bought the jesting false identity.

III. Two weeks ago I held my first group hike of 2011. I took 10 people up to the top of Tiger Mountain #2 and then on to #3. We gained and lost 2272 feet on our 4.56 mile round-trip. One of our hikers had some problems with her calf cramping up. But other than that we has great weather and even enjoyed 6 inches of wet snow on top of Tiger #2. The night started in dense fog, but we hiked above the clouds and saw out to a 25 mile horizon across the Kent valley to Federal Way from Tiger #2 and across Issaquah to Bellevue from Tiger #3. Check out the elevation profile:

(Kinda looks like a face...)

IV. Ronda in my community group invited the entire group up to her ex-husband's cabin in the mountains off highway 2. I got to meet him. You know how when you hear someone's story about how much a jerk someone else is, you think, "yeah, yeah everyone seems right until the other side is heard." We'll Ronda's side of the story was right. The cabin was amazing with a sweet pool table and being placed right on a river was blessed with a smooth continuous stream of conscious interrogatives from acqua pura punctuated rarely by the roar and whistle of a passing Northern Pacific train. I even got to ski! I really enjoy skiing; it is my favorite winter activity. The top of Steven's Pass Ski Resort is 5584ft. By weak-minded, stubborn, milquetoast blindness, I followed Lisa, Mackenzie, and David up to the peak which has only diamond and double diamond ski-runs to allow escape from such an alpine penitentiary. I crashed, slipped, and careened all morning until lunch with the CG, after which I gained more confidence and started cutting a decent rug on the snow-laced dance runs. A great weekend.

V. The Pearl by John Steinbeck is a masterpiece of a parable with apparent subtle hints of Marxian economics. However when you look deeper, Steinbeck's heart is dreadfully wounded by the plight of the poor in all times and in all places. He spent months in Baja California and made numerous friends with the poor locals of Mexico whose families had lived under subjugation for generations. For those who have read The Jungle, a fictional narrative starring Jurgis Rudkus, (blatantly false yet powerfully moving) written by Upton Sinclair, we all resonate with the passion to rise up and defend those who are taken advantage of and oppressed economically. I would argue that this sense of objective justice come from Jesus, God, who set THE knowledge of righteousness in every man's heart (though many intentionally pervert it). The Story of Kino, his wife Juana, and their infant Coyotito revolves around a poor family stricken by circumstance who are blessed with the gift of a singularly amazing pearl. They dream of all the innocent improvements that the money from the sale of the pearl will bring, little Coyotito can be the first one in the family to be educated; he can find out what is really in those books that the wealthy men speak of. They are plagued by thieves and cruel men intent on cheating them of this gift. Kino kills four men and looses his son all due to the greed the pearl inspires, the ending is very anti-climactic and left me facing my own greedy, wanton, fleshly desires to yearn for the precious. During the same time, J.R.R. Tolkien was writing his Lord of the Rings saga. These two stories show the all-too-twisted human nature that will go to any length to acquire the promise of a changed life...changed not on God's terms but rather on the self's terms. I guess I am confessing that I am a bit like the pearl dealers, Smeagol, and even Kino. Buy what is my great Pearl? Maybe it's my self-sufficiency or my desire for control over my life or my pursuit of comfort.

VI. I just brushed the surface of A. de Tocquville's political treatise on America in the 1830s, so I can't really comment on it, but I like his pursuit of objectivity in addressing the topic of what makes America tick.

VII. Oh what is the Great Super Awesome News? Well I am finally a master!!!!

No, I can't move objects using the mythical Force, shoot blue lightening from my fingertips, and fight impossible enemies with a light sabre, but I can crunch numbers faster than an African Swallow can carry a coconut to England so Monty Python can make weird little jokes about it.

In short I have just graduated from the University of Washington with a Master's Degree in Economics.

yeah!

Whistling, Running, and Dune

Miles Run:99.19

Miles Biked:85.99
Total Miles:185.18
Stadium Stairs Run*:2244
Steep Steps Run*:1340
Days to Rainier:126
Summit Team:9.55
Aspirin Tablets:42

8.65 mile run on Monday. Strained my lateral colateral ligament on my right knee. Running sux, yadda, yadda yadda.

Ok the running stuff is out of the way, cool.

So I am here at the Ballard Campus of Mars Hill Church listening to the eloquence of the systems-minded master Tim Beltz. Very cool guy. He is a salty retired Coast Guard Officer who knows a lot about how to build a church's administrative capabilities to allow a church to love people and steward resources well. I need to learn these aspects to reach my long-term goals.

I had the chance to attend the church's staff training on Tuesday and was greatly encouraged by seeing the passion and steadfastness of my leaders. Pastor Mark Driscoll spoke from his gut and gave all the staff a widened vision of what we all are doing. He even gave health recommendations geared to help avoid burn out in this busy season of Easter prep, and assist all to steward their time well.

Yesterday, I got to enjoy some time with my amazing friend Pavel. He is an awesome leader at the University of Washington Campus of Mars. I had the chance to see how his Campus Cleanup team works. As the leader of the Ballard Campus Cleanup, I have made plenty of mistakes and learned a thing or two about how to lead people to worship in a way that serves people instead of using them and focuses on worship. Also as a systems minded guy, I enjoy looking at organizational structures. For some bizzare reason, I see into them, can see how they can be improved, and the simplest way to execute the necessary changes.

....................

Dangit!

I guess the running stuff is not completely done for this post. It's just after midnight and I wanted to finish this confession before sleep carries my mind away.

I just ran 9.72 miles...my God. It has been about 65 days since I started any exercise geared toward my eventual semi-random grid search for the local maxima of Washington State. Prior to January 7th 2011, I had run the mandatory mile run in 6th grade in under 8 minutes (I believe my exact time according to my mustached gym teacher was 7:12 but that seems fast considering I was the shortest child in my 1,100 student middle school). In fact, an embarrassing set of stories revolves around my height, next time you see me ask about it.

Aside from that one run, I had never run any distance for any reason before the age of 24 years, 6 months. I am now 24 years and 8 months old. What a difference 2 months makes. Shoot, if I found some caffeine pills, chugged 4 full-sized energy drinks, ate a bag of French Truffles, and was being chased by half zombie invading Fremen from planet Arrakis, I might be able to run a half marathon tomorrow. Holy cow. I mean I still hate running, but I'm kinda sorta making progress. It's like that time when I was a little over 3-and-a-half years old, and I saw a man walking down the side walk whistling. I was blown away. You can make music without an instrument?! I asked my godmother Bernadyne, and she whistled too! I single-mindedly dedicated myself to the task of learning how to whistle. For the next week I experimented, revised, and finally achieved unaided noise from which my godmother had no escape. By the end of the month, I could whistle any tune I heard and did so often. I just collected information, synthesized it, executed as best I could, and achieved the desired outcome. I suppose this running thing is no different.

..............

Submitted an application today. Can an introvert like me get a job with the Development Group of a megachurch? IDK.

Ever been so tired you ask yourself, "Hey Josh, what are you feeling?" and you say, "Meh." back? Sleep. 8 hours. ZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzz

Stairs

Miles Run:39.72
Miles Biked:85.99
Total Miles:125.71
Stadium Stairs Run*:1020
Steep Steps Run*:536
Days to Rainier:144
Summit Team:8.55
Aspirin Tablets:35
*for each round trip only the upward steps are counted

Dang, soon the stats alone will be their own blog post!
Wow! I really don't like running but I found something I like even less. Running stairs! Yeah it is pretty much the reason they invented Tylenol (Also known as the soldier's candy). Being a total rebel, I decided that Aspirin is the real non-conformist pain salve. (Actually I am just too cheap to buy the more powerful stuff to numb the achilles pain). The upside of the stair addition to my routine is that now I have a new stat. Since the progression of stats is denominated in miles, people, and pills, I will record my stair progress in ascended steps, so the number can look all cool and impressive.
So where do I run steps? Naturally I had to choose the most ridiculous place in three states. It is called "Rura Penthe". That is my name for it (ever seen Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country? In the movie, Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy are sentenced to a life sentence to be served at the Klingon dilithium mines on a god-forsaken ice planetoid called Rura Penthe). The stair's official name is probably something like "the Thistle street pedestrian link." Regardless of my fanciful name or its official designation, it is factually the longest continuous set of stairs in Oregon, Idaho, or Washington State. It is horrible.
Pictures will come at some point.
That stair case kicked my butt. The first section is a set of 204 wide steps with a similar height and tred dept as a typical flight at UW's Husky Football Stadium. The average height of each step is about 6 inches. The upper section boasts 11.5 inch steps andan indeterminant number of steps. I tried to count them, but each time I decended from the top, I kept losing count! It seems my body had determined that death was iminent therefore blood no longer needed to be pumped to my brain. Apparently, my body was indignant at my brain for deciding to destroy the body and "turned off the tap" as it were.
That is the first time I have ever been so winded that I couldn't count.
Each step required a leap and delicate landing only to precariously teeter on the edge of oblivion, the only option was to launch myself toward the next towering step. Each of the four times I found myself at the antipenultimate step, my heart was a roaring jet engine deafening my ears; at the penultimate step, every fiber demanded a halt; at the ultimate step, my soul rallied, my imageo-dei was recalled, and I rejoiced. The culmination of each conquering trip toward heaven was my knife.
Carving another tally into the heart's wood of some long-since-dead pine tree, a cellulose Ebeneezer to God's gift of pain and expectation of my goal: Rainier.
Only 144 days left.
Also the cadre grows: Greg (who has beaten some 14,000+ Colorado peaks) and his bride-to-be Melissa (who has run the 26.2 tour de morts some strange folks associate with that beautiful and desolate plain in Greece).
We are men and women dedicated to a cause. Our espirit de corp is high, our passionate temporaires raison d'etre is a white rocky peak less than 200 miles from where I sit.

So why do I keep writing these awkward diatribes about pain and foolish self-abasement?
I really want to stop doing this whole training thing. I just want it to be over. But I am committed (not institutionally, though sometimes I wonder if I ought to be, :P). And I need to remind myself. I need to keep the goal in mind. I write these for the same reason that I sing the song All My Tears by Ex Nihilo; I need to be reminded that after this is finished there is a glorious End.

Pain and Road Signs

Miles Run:21.30
Miles Biked:65.75
Total Miles:87.05
Days to Rainier:161
Summit Team:5.55
Aspirin Tablets:15

Running today after biking. Obviously this is a bad idea. So I fatigued my right foot, then pushed through the pain until it failed. Now I'm on aspirin. Reminds me of a song by the White Stripes:

Well strip the bark right off a tree and just hand it this way,
Don't even need a drink of water to make the headache go away

In Europe, a common folk remedy was to chew Willow tree bark because it would reduce pain and reduce fevers. Later researchers discovered acetylsalicylic acid (yeah I had to look up the spelling, chemistry would have been my other major if I had more time, but with only two years of chemistry my memory failed me). The foot thing will be better soon, otherwise my exorcism...I mean exercise schedule will be shot.
Anyway, the best part of the day came this evening. I hung out with my community group, and talked with the guys about what we are all going through and what the gospel means in the midst of our circumstances. I shared just how much I have been seeing my arrogance, and the truth that I must repent of it otherwise why would God honor the proud, "Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted. Matt 23:12" I also have been not trusting that all I need to do is worship well and Jesus will take care of the little things, you know like life.
Next us men watched Payback (with Mel Gibson). It was sweet. Some notable quotes from the movie:

GSW: that's what the hospitals call it: gunshot wound. Doctor has to report it to the police. That makes it hard for guys in my line to get what I call, quality health care.

Not many people know what their life's worth is. I do. Seventy grand. That's what they took from me. And that's what I was going to get back.

We went for breakfast in Canada. We made a deal; if she'd stop hookin', I'd stop shooting people...Maybe we were aiming high.

It was a great story of betrayal, opposition, a cunning plan, and ultimately sweet toe-tapping redemption (the children's rhyme "this little Piggy went to market" will take on new meaning when you see this flick).
Good stuff.
So to close out this post, I'm announcing the launch of a new blog: "Josh's Road Signs". It will be dedicated to showcasing all of my collected notes and commentaries on sermons, good books, and scripture. These avenues for greater maturity are much like signs pointing me down one road but not another, telling me to slow and watch for falling rocks, to downshift on steep grades, to watch for crossing wildlife, and the like. We all should be looking for these indicators in our life. Keep your eyes open and if you want to see the signs along my road check our the NEW BLOG. Less than 170 days to Rainier...

Miles Run:14.45
Miles Biked:45.49
Total Miles:59.94
Days to Rainier:198
Summit Team:4.5
Aspirin Tablets:10

We all know people who just like the sound of their own voice. Well now you can say that you know someone who likes the sound of their own typing. It's late and I am trying to clear my thoughts, so please give me a mulligan on this post.

My philosophy of running is somewhat unconventional. My current running schedule alternates 3 and 4 miles runs. I try to fit in 1 20+ mile bike ride and 3 runs each week with matching doses of aspirin. During my runs, I alternate Toe Running (here I run from toe point to toe point never letting my heel drop from stride to stride) and conventional Heel-toe Running. Each method lasts for 0.6 miles and is followed by my own transitional period variant. You see when I Toe Run, my calf muscles are taking a beating and to go straight from that to the conventional stride (or vice versa) would cause unnecessary stress. So each 0.6 miles (determined using Google Maps), I take a 200ft break during which I...um...to use a little jargon I picked up in grad school, "I iteratively follow a trend-specific stochastic path." If any of you have ever studied cointegrated series then this all makes sen...well no it doesn't...well my transitions follow a so called "random walk" or as my humorous Time Series Professor C. J. Kim calls it, "A drunken walk." Seriously, I intentionally weave and lean and stop and start several times to stretch each primary lower leg tendon to reduce the likelihood of a strained ligament or excessive build up of lactic acid. You should see me; I look ridiculous. But that's because I am ridiculous.
On my runs, I am constantly adjusting my tempo to prevent my diaphragm from "red-lining". I intentionally stress my breathing to bring myself to the point where the burning stitch in my side is almost about to start, then I hold that tempo. Breath control is vital as I measure each breath to provide just enough oxygen; I try never to gulp or take a deep breath but at the same time not take too many shallow breaths because then my diaphragm will fatigue too quickly. For the last half mile, I increase my tempo to the point where the stitch starts to burn. Then I take my last transitional period and stretch everything out while I cool down.
This method for training is all still in flux, and I welcome any new insights. But it has worked for me so far, I can feel my legs getting stronger and the day-after pain is decreasing. Till next time...

Costco

Miles Run:12
Miles Biked:45.49
Total Miles:57.49
Days to Rainier:199
Summit Team:4.5
Aspirin Tablets:6

Today was a good day. It is my one day of total relaxation and rest each week. I volunteer my time from Sunday-Thursday at Mars Hill Church in a variety of ways. Saturday is my project day to catch-up and prep for the next week. In obvious contradiction to my previously defined day of rest, I installed 20 feet of 12-2 Romex and a new receptical (Romex, if you don't know what Romex is you are not a DIY type of person, tisk tisk). So without being electrucuted I updated and rewired the power to my bedroom to ensure that my new shiny computer monitor would be well grounded. I then knocked out 25.25 miles on my mountain bike in the driving wind, with only one minor injury (Biking Map). Finally, I cooked some amazing shrimp Linguine and watched Swordfish with Travolta and Berry. I know God said:

Vengeance is mine, and recompense, for the time when their foot shall slip; for the day of their calamity is at hand, and their doom comes swiftly. Deut 32:35

But something in me is stirred when Gabriel (played by Travolta) says:

Someone must bring [the terrorists'] war to them. They bomb a church, we bomb 10. They hijack a plane, we take out an airport. They execute American tourists, we tactically nuke an entire city. Our job is to make terrorism so horrific that is becomes unthinkable to attack Americans.

I guess I am just a jacked up guy, but vengeance...
This sympathy with Gabriel or Clyde Alexander Shelton (played by Butler in Law Abiding Citizen) and their causes of justice and liberty leads to a fear in my gut. Should I ever be blessed with a wife or a precious daughter. I know there is no power on Earth that would stop me from repaying anyone who hurt them fully.

Wow, man I got off topic. Like James Harleman says, "there are few experience specifically as compelling or challenging as being pulled into a film's story for a few hours."

So what was I going to write about? Oh yeah Costco!
"Costco?", you ask. Yes, Costco. Every year my mom and I go to the Costco shareholders meeting in Bellevue (except last year when I was on my Epic Road Trip). "Are you a RICH GREEDY CAPITALIST who is ruining America and the World by promoting the corporate executive system where men make outrageous amounts of money yet have no incentive to manage risk, instead they live only for the short-term thereby ensuring we will all be subject to frequent and volatile financial crises?!"
No, no, no. I support that system of intentional instability when I pay my taxes.
Anyway, I hold a modest amount of Costco shares in my retirement account, so I get to go. My mom and I enjoy the event each year because it reminds us that Capitalism is lovely and saves the lives of hundreds of thousands each year. It also allows me to buy the hundred pack of socks. Jeffrey Brotman led the meeting, the video presentation of all the cool depictions of Costco in the media (Jimmy Kimmel at Costco was the best), and the Q&A. The best part is the free stuff. Don't get me wrong stealing made the top ten not cool list, but it's not stealing when they say, "Here take it we don't want to take it back to the office." So I got 2 gallons of laundry detergent, 4 containers of chocolate covered Almonds and Raisins, 50 pounds (!) of sealed trail mix, 6 2.2lb boxes of Natural French Truffles (one of my personal favorites), 5 cool self-sealing storage containers, 3 boxes of Flex Free Glucosamine and Chondroitin tablets, three pounds of shrimp, a dozen bottles of Kirkland Signature Vita-Rain, and a sweet portrait of myself,. My mom got about the same amount of swag plus a full-sized dog bed for Fritz.
Thursday's Costco outing was a total win. I even ran into my buddy from Ballard Campus Security. So now I am fully stocked with training food (50lbs of trail mix!) and am even well rested or will be after I publish this post and snooze.

I am still calling any manly man or womenly woman to join me on Rainier. July is just far enough away to prepare physically and mentally. Join me. Beat Rainier.

Training...

This last week has been a long week with an exciting project I submitted. I even got some positive feedback from Pastor James. Very cool.
I got to sleep after 2am Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday trying to get everything ready and woke at 7:15am to get to work. Also, I ran 9 miles and rode 20 miles. These numbers are not spectacular but in my defense, I have not run in 13 years.

So this week I will be starting morning runs. Pray for me. I am really NOT looking forward to it.

I enjoyed some great Lamb Biryani at the India Bistro in the Ballard neighborhood of Seattle with my grandparents and my cousin Tanya. I got to pick her brain on running and preparing for my climb. As a professional runner type person, her advice carries massive weight, and I am very grateful that she took the time with me. Also, I saw The Way Back (see my last post). The movie stirred my mind and gut. Basically, after my long week I was gifted with a great two days to relax and recharge. But last night I couldn't sleep (even though I was in bed by 10pm). I was anxious about Sunday services at West Seattle. Worried that we wouldn't have enough security guys, parking guys, and baptism volunteers. But then one Sunday came, we had a solid security core, three guys on parking, and plenty of baptism folks. God delivered and everything went well. In fact everything went really well. We saw 8 people baptized including a counterfeiter and dealer who did 5 years in Federal. I also interviewed a 7 year-old girl who is solid in her faith.
Basically all 7 teams and 75 volunteers faithfully showed up, I tried to humbly lead them (as humbly as an arrogant guy like me can) to worship God, and God showed up. Game set match. So why did I worry?

Why do you think I worry?

One Step Leads to Another

I took my first step toward Rainier on Suturday. Then there was another, and another, and before I knew it I was running. Have I ever told you how much I hate to run? I'm not even joking; the last time I ran was for the mile run in 6th grade. (7:12 for the smallest kid in the 1600 person middle school ain't bad)
My dad was a bicyclist, and my mom is an aikido black belt. So I should have some athleticism. Not so. I couldn't even make the baseball team in high school as a bench warmer. It's not that I don't go out side and exercise, it's just that I am very short, and if I am not intentional about planning out each meal, I lose 3 pounds a week.
So back to the point, I hate running. But...the training routine I have chosen on is a 5 a week Bike/Run routine. My first run covered 4.3 miles but I actually ran only 3.2 miles. It was raining and windy and cold. How can people do this stuff for fun? Each time I saw a dude walking his dog or an elderly lady peering from behind lace curtains I wanted to quit. My fear of man popped out as I imagined what they were thinking...{Old Lady's voice}"Crazy hoodlum, running must be looting..." {dude's voice} "Woah, crazy runner doesn't he know it's raining out here?"
Each time my heart would sink, I thought of this picture and the passion tripled within:

I want to see this with my own eyes, I want to be there and I want to summit.
{Using Pastor Mark's Intense Voice} "I'm looking for Men and Women who want the same thing Passionately, Who want to stand high atop Rainier and Earn it!"

Who is even moderately interested in coming with me? We hit rainer Mid July. It will take months of personal preparation. You might even have to run. It will take months of group events to hone your technical skills. It will take a lot of your time and probably $300-$450. Do you want it bad enough?


Special acknowledgements to my Cousin Tanya, she decided to take up running and now kills marathons. She is an inspiration to me.

For-Everglades

Miles: 8197.4
Gallons Burned: 279.3
Caffeinated Drinks: 46
Gigabytes of Pictures: 18.2

This Latte is great here at Fido in Nashville. Josh and I enjoyed the Opryland Hotel & Resort and the Nashville Parthenon...Yes it exists. I'll post pictures when I get caught up in posting. Until then let's go back to the Everglades.
At a place like to the Everglades, biodiversity is the most amazing thing...No. Actually the sun is. In Seattle we get 8 months of gray cloudy drizzle 2.5 months of cool partly cloudy Fall and 1.5 months of Sun. The lack of sun makes Seattle known for its high use of anti-depressants and caffeine. So as the typical moody Seattle guy, the Sun in Florida's southern extremes is amazing.
Fist I'd like to talk about the Fauna.
Did you know there is an American Crocodile? (Yeah Alicia and Jen you know but how about other people?) I had no idea. Turns out there are between 1600-2000 adult Crocs in Florida and the Everglades is the only place on Earth where Crocs and Gators coexist. They can be clearly differentiated using three basic characteristics:
1 - snout shape - The Crocs' snout is narrower than the Gators'
2 - teeth - the Crocs' teeth upper and lower teeth are always visible, whereas only the Gators' upper teeth are visible
3 - color - The Gator is darker than the Croc
This little guy was hot so he had his mouth open to cool down. He and his bigger friend looked chill, so I walked up (ready to sprint away if he/she so much as flinched) and took this:

This little guy was next to the Crocs above:

Just like in Seattle this "Laughing Gull" is fearless and begs shamelessly for food:

I was hiking toward Snake Bight when I ducked off-trail and wandered for a 100 yards until I ran across this Snowy Egret and his with reflection.

While on the Bight path I found the secret spider that bit Peter Parker.

At Snake Bight there were no snakes but there were these neuts (or non-specific lizards). This littl eguy is about 3 inches long:

Here we see a Great Egret, notice the distinctive beak that differentiates it from the Snowy Egret. he was sunning himself, so I used my old trick to get close to him so I could get this shot. Oh what's my trick? Hmm... I don't want to tell you otherwise you tell a cat or bird and they won't fall for it anmore.

My only shot of Manatees, you really need a boat to see them well and Jolly Green wouldn't stand for the injustice of having to wear that hat (cars with kayaks on top look like the "cool" kids with their fancy hats).

I made a friend! "Tony", an adolescent Brown Pelican, hung out with me for 45 minutes when I wrote those blog posts from Flamingo Bay. Again the trick worked!

As I stalked an egret to get a great shot, I saw this little fellow.

The rare and illusive "Bowen".


Moving on to the glade part of the Glades
As a registered "amateur, amateur botanist" I feel qualified to use the Latin classification of genus and species when referring to the flower below: Prettius Flowerus

See how dense the undergrowth and Mangroves gets.

Again this "amateur, amateur botanist" will use my massive knowledge of plants to classify this little fellow: the Parasitic Aloe. Actually my mycologist friend Josh informed me it is a Bromeliad.

Josh couldn't ID this one so I'll call it a Lilly.

Yeah, they have palm trees everwhere.


I really enjoyed the Everglades and the whole experience of seeing this sub-tropical nirvana.
Next time the Keys...

Central Florida

Miles: 7765.3
Gallons Burned: 265.8
Caffeinated Drinks: 42

Holy cow! I added 1,000 miles from 11pm on February 12th to 6pm on February 14th. That's not at break neck speed, but most of them were at night and on unfamiliar roads all the while fighting my GPS unit and its strange concept of space and time.
No big deal.
Right now I'm at Eric's house (not the soon-to-be-winged naval aviator in Pensacola from my high school days) in Atlanta Georgia. He has one orange tabby in particular who is my buddy right now. He is constantly nosing the keyboard, so any misspellings are do to him. So how do I know Eric? Well I go to Mars Hill Church and there is this guy who started showing up to Campus Cleanup, Yuskie (pronounced Yoose-Kay). He had just moved out to Seattle from Atlanta for work. Yuskie is a solid guy who is honestly amazing. He is fun to be around and knows God in a refreshing way. So his buddy Eric from Buckhead Church (yeah, the name...its odd. But nothing compared to Mars Hill Church, sounds cultish) offered to put me up for tonight.
There is snow on the ground...Not good. I knew that the white was coming, but seeing it for the first time since New Mexico sends shivers down my spine.
How about I tell you about my time after Dunedin, FL?
Fort DeSoto was a strategic defense position guarding the entrance to Tampa Bay. It was built at the turn of last century.
The guns and fortifications are significant, but the purpose of the structure was to be an invisible mortar position that would deal massive damage to ships at close range (less than 5000 yards). The exposed side is overgrown by brush intentionally to provide camouflage. An invading ship wouldn't even see the lethal shot coming.


After the fort, I ran down to Myakka State Park in south central Florida. The park is famous for the two biggest airboats in the world and the best example of Florida's old prairies. They still burn the prairies to renew the ecosystem.
Both here and in the Everglades the vultures are a constant menace...to cars. Yeah they will eat the rubber tires off your car!

I got so close to this little guy that I almost stepped on him! Armadillos are really neat. I ran into at least 20 in my 5 hours at Myakka.

So as I drove through the park I realized there were no trail markers.
WARNING Random Aside!!
I love to hike. I have been known to walk the mile down to Lincoln Park in West Seattle and wander through the tall pines and cedars for hours lost in thought just to "hike". I have driven the 22 miles out to Tiger Mountain over and over just so I can pack 40 pounds of bricks up to the summit (Nick an I are building something...It'll be sweet when we're done). I love to drive the 195 miles out to Mount Rainier at least 6 times a summer (often alone) just so I can hike at 1-2 mile high altitudes. I like hiking!
So back to Myakka. They had NO trails, NO self guided tours. Only a road to drive. Well I couldn't stand for that! So I ditched my car, slapped on some Vietnam Marine Corp BDUs (battle dress uniform), laced up my steel toes, and charged into the brush. I still hadn't seen an alligator and I really wanted to. Very soon I came to a game trail and followed that. I saw this. Can you see the alligator? With my trusty 25X monocular, I could just make it out. I saw my first alligator! Yes!

Here are two pictures showing just how amazing this place is.


And I even took a picture of myself on location.

Sorry I look all pissed off. But the downpour started just as the picture was taken making a second shot dangerous for the camera.
After Mayakka, I headed south with the last of the day light being drenched in subtropical showers. I told George that I would stay near Myakka, but I changed my mind. I guess the rain sealed the deal. I pushed on to the Everglades so I could wake up in the warm southern sun. I took highway 41 instead of interstate 75. I figured I could save $5 on tolls by taking the county highway instead of the famed "Alligator Alley". I still stand by my decision, but I nearly bit it on that road.
I started down 41 at 9:30pm I anticipated a deserted stretch of straight blacktop. It wasn't.
In the first 20 minutes I dodged 4 oblivious armadillos. They aren't the most destructive things you can hit, but I'm not driving an uparmored turbo-diesel air ride equipped HMMWV(huvmee). I'm driving the Jolly Green (short for jolly green giant, because is is green, small, and sounds like a happy kid hopped up on Skittles each time I turn the key).
The really fun part came when I was doing 65 mph (105 kph for my English browsers) with my brights on and this blinding brown blur flew at me from my left. I swerved hard right and felt contact through the steering wheel. I counter-steered hard left feeling the car sliding sideways, so I tapped the brake to bring her out of the slide then counter-steered lightly left once more and came to a quick stop.
My post incident inspection revealed no damage to the car. My suspicion is that the deer's nose clipped the left side mirror casement and then the front or flank touched my left rear fender.
The whole ordeal reminded me of a night Joe and I were coming back to Hillsdale from a Ted Leo concert in Detroit. It was 2:30am and I was on my 3rd mug of "caffeine re-enforced cappuccino". We were at 68 mph (109 kph) and I looked this 10 point buck in the eye as I slammed the car hard right and hard left. On highway 41 I was not as heavily caffeinated, so my slower reflexes probably bloodied some poor deers nose.
I made it to Flamingo in the Everglades at about 12:45am and slept the sleep of the satiated.