Monday, December 28, 2009

TDD thoughts / notes after reading Kent Beck's TDD By Example

I've read James Newkirk's (the original developer of NUnit) book on TDD, been to TDD workshops (including one with James Newkirk), and consider myself to know a fair amount about TDD. I drank the kool-aid several years ago and have been trying to preach the good news ever since. I hadn't, however, read Kent Beck's Test-Driven Development By Example until today. I would honestly say that this is the best software book I've ever read, and it only took me a few hours to get through. It is simple and easy to understand, even when covering fairly complicated material. Bravo. The notes that follow are based on the book. They are not a book report, but a reminder for me and others to follow when trying to fully grok TDD.
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What is our programming / development style? In other words, how do we typically implement and verify business (i.e. non-UI) rules? 5 options I’ve seen / done:
  1. Modify existing function or add a new one then open a web browser, click a button, then verify on the web page
  2. Modify existing function or add a new one then open a web browser, click a button, then verify in the database (similar to using SQL Profiler)
  3. Add Response.Write, STOP, etc. statements in code, or add CSS around an element to call attention to it and go from there
  4. Write a bunch of new classes / methods / etc. in an effort to finish a task before a deadline, then come back to them weeks later and write some xUnit tests to boost code coverage from zero to x…. only to find out when writing your tests that your design / architecture is far from ideal. aka TLIE (Test Last, If Ever)
  5. Open xUnit, create an automated test, make it pass, and then change the necessary code base, cry tears of joy… aka TDD
Which of those (and others you can think of)…
  • is repeatable?
  • leaves a signpost for future developers, documenting that a certain feature exists?
  • provides an example API usage for future developers (including myself in that audience)?
  • is fast? (and therefore gives you the ability to try several implementations when you have a few options in mind and aren’t sure which not only works but is best)
  • is isolated (can happen even if everything else is broken)?
  • does not require (much, if any) human work?
  • gives us confidence when making any change, no matter the size?
Testing changes is not the same as having tests.

Why is writing the automated test important at all?
  • Automated tests help us verify that we definitely know what we think we know. Adding more helps convert “what we don’t know” to “what we know” …. err, something like that.
  • Tests provide living and up-to-date documentation in source control.
  • Especially in our code base, changing almost anything is stressful. Automated tests are stress management tools. Passing automated tests eliminate the stress of “what we don’t know” and gives us the courage to focus on our real passion, which is adding more value to our customers. [If you feel no stress at all when debating changing code in your current production codebase, please leave the room after reading the following out loud: I, _________, apologize to the entire company for the future hotfixes I am about to create a need for. I apologize to our production release team, to support, my fellow developers, and to our customers. I have stocked the kitchen with Red Bull, Tylenol, and Prozac. I will begin working on handwritten letters of apology immediately.]
  • “In TDD, the tests are a means to an end – the end being code in which we have great confidence.”
  • You tell me
2 simple tenants of TDD:
  1. Write new code only if an automated test has failed
  2. Eliminate duplication
So how do we do that?
  1. Red
    • Write the test first to tell the story of what we wish to implement,
    • how we wish our API to look (Beck calls this “the perfect interface for our operation” and tells us to “Invent the interface you wish you had.”),
    • what will cause the test to pass (assertions),
      • Write the assert statements first so you know when you are done.
    • help define clearly what is in scope and what is not.
    • This gives us a concrete measure of failure!
  2. Green
    • Fix the failing test to pass to know with certainty the given story has been completed
    • Even if it’s ugly, just focus on turning the red bar to green fast
    • This gives us a concrete measure of success!
  3. Refactor
    • Keep a tidy house and make sure the green bar still exists afterward
    • If you used constants to get a single test to pass in step 2, add another assertion and generalize the code to work for all scenarios (triangulation).
    • Change the code but not the outcome or business rules. This is a stressful and time-consuming exercise unless you have tests as a safety net to guarantee even massive code changes don’t cause a change the in code’s behavior as the end user sees it.
What other subtle thing does this mean we’re always doing?
  • Design. TDD is continual design. Design is fluid and never finished. Features (and scope) are complete when all tests pass, but design goes on like the Energizer Bunny. Do not be surprised to see your design veer wa(aaaaaa)y off course from what you originally thought you should originally end up with.
Why is writing the test first important?
  • Design is mandatory instead of an afterthought
  • You start with the world’s greatest API for the given problem and only back down from that when necessary
  • Tests are a way to identify scope boundaries and help us stay within them while we develop. We isolate a tiny low-stress situation, and only move outside of that scope when we are ready to write a new test. When we have a failing test that we need to make a passing test, we cannot ourselves to get sidetracked by, “oh yeah, I also need to implement this for this project…” and then we’re 30 minutes later before we remember what we were working on. In this way, writing tests first eliminates waste. (!!!!!)
The pattern for writing new tests
  1. Arrange – create some objects (setup your condition)
  2. Act – stimulate them (force the situation under test to execute)
  3. Assert – check the results
I have seen this called AAA Syntax. (See Rhino Mocks)

Before beginning any task, write a list of all the tests you know you will have to write. After you have Red>Green>Refactored a story off of your to-do list, select the next item from the list based on:
  • level of confidence (am I certain I can make this work?)
  • will this teach me something?
If you discover a potential problem, do not be afraid to simply add it to the to-do list instead of interrupting the current Red>Green>Refactor session.

Some things you might already know but need to reconsider:
  1. Make sure your tests are isolated. One failing test should not cause 3 others to fail. The order in which the tests run should also not matter.
  2. Change the voice inside your head from “how do I implement feature X” to “how do I test my implementation of feature X” any time you open the IDE and consider typing.
  3. You decide your velocity with TDD. If you find yourself getting annoyed at running tests after changing every single line of code that you know will not break a test (such as changing a variable name inside a 4 line c# method) then allow yourself to make bigger incremental changes before re-running tests. If you find yourself stressing over whether all your tests will pass or not, slow down. Redline the Bronco like OJ on a clear sunny day and slow down when the road gets icy.
  4. Every time you have a test fail unexpectedly, write a new test to document what was just discovered. It may mean you just found a bug.
    • Along the same lines, take the time to discover why something works when you think it shouldn’t.
    • Along the same lines, if you find a refactoring which your current tests do not demand, write another test.
  5. Your test code may actually be as many lines as the code you are adding. This is not a bad thing.
    • Doesn’t this mean my output is going down? When answering that question, be sure to take debugging time, integration, and code explanation / learning into consideration. (Just because something makes sense to you doesn’t mean it will be easy for someone else to learn… or even for you to recall in the future when adding feature Y to the codebase built for feature X. Your tests at least document your obvious-now-but-likely-to-become-confusing-later solution.)
  6. Do not be afraid to delete assertions, tests, or methods as part of refactoring; however, be confident that a test is obsolete before deleting. If the test does not give you any more confidence by existing, and it doesn’t communicate anything new to the reader of the test that they can’t learn in another test, it can be deleted.
  7. TDD does not in any way replace or eliminate a need for performance / stress / usability testing.
  8. 100% test coverage does not mean 0 bugs.
  9. Can we change the meaning of 1 line of code and then have a broken build? If not, we need another test. In other words, if we change line 873 (umm, first of all, we should never have a line 873, but that's a different discussion...) of ____.cs to say x = true instead of x = false, we should have a failing test.
Lastly, do not forget that changing code without a failing test is a violation of tenant #1 (Write new code only if an automated test has failed).

I think one of the most potentially difficult things about TDD is to let yourself solve the problem simply and then make it as pretty as you want to. When you solve it simply with passing tests, you can then change the solution to be reusable, decked out with patterns, etc. and be confident that the more complicated solution still solves the problem. In other words, don’t worry about it being pretty right out of the gate. Worry about solving the problem by making the test pass, and then let the patterns or perfection reveal itself through design changes, aka refactoring. Beck says this specifically in reference to the Template Method pattern, “Template methods are best found through experience instead of designed that way from the beginning.” but I think it applies to all (err, most?) patterns. He later states that extracting too many methods can lead to the reverse (inlining methods) when you think start off with a Template Method instead of following the above advice… so save yourself the time and let the patterns reveal themselves instead of creating patterns for the sake of patterns.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Costa Rica bonus entry, day 9

11/1/2009 Sunday
This morning Catherine and I walked town a bit and killed more time before our taxi took us to the airport. Molly left a few hours before us. We found a little bakery to get apple pastries and cafe con leche to wake us up. A pretty nice morning.
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The sun is presently sinking into the Gulf of Mexico. It's really pretty... warm and inviting in Miami 30,000' below.
A plane just eclipsed the sun. I'm glad I opened the window to see it because that must be rare. Sun dogs can be seen on whispy clouds to my left. I really enjoy window seats; sunsets even moreso. Tranquility. I'm back over U.S. soil now and have very mixed emotions about that. The in-flight movie was 500 days of Summer. I had mixed emotions about that too. I'm glad it had a happy ending because the rest of it was really painful to watch. I can't say that I have a ton of experience in that regard, but it resonated strongly with me. That feeling really sucks. Really. Miserable. The sunset just peaked. Brilliant. Really inspiring actually. The clouds below are putting on the display now.
Another thing I don't have mixed emotions about is the book I finished before the movie started; Compañero about Che Guevara. I didn't really know enough about him other than watching Motorcycle Diaries and Che (the ones with Benicio Del Toro) before the book. What a tremendous read. Che is a polarizing icon, so I wanted a fairly neutral and unbiased account. Compañero served well. It pointed out faults and mistakes as well as celebrating successes. (Florida is getting wider now. Chau Gulf, hello confederacy.) I find I relate to Che strongly in many aspects and very little in others. I feel bad for him that he kinda got sucked into several things in Cuba that prevented him from truly pursuing his aspirations as he may have otherwise preferred. Regardless of your opinion, this book is a good read. I think a vast majority of people with an opinion of him are mis/under-informed. Did he carry out executions? Yes, but no more than the U.S. ever has in a day. Did he do a lot of good? Yes, but perhaps not exactly as his fans would think. I really believe those who are "pro-Che" fail to recognize his faults, and those who are against him fail to recognize his achievements. Like John Kennedy, John Lennon, MLK, etc., it would have been interesting if he were still alive. If nothing else, I can better understand his point of view now.

Pasajes de Costa Rica, viaje 1, día 8

This is part of 8 posts where I will, with minor edits and omissions, put my journal from days in Costa Rica online. There is no real grammar structure, but hopefully it makes sense...
10/31/2009 Saturday
Last day of vacation. Boo. Major bummer. Need to catch up on yesterday first... Before my surf lesson at 4:00 I took my rented board and got the hang of messing around in the whitewater. Rode a few waves on my knees. Russell gave me a different board for the lesson; not made of foam, better. We spent about 15 minutes on the beach and then took to the water. The very first wave he told me to try I stood right up and rode to shore. He seemed surprised. "Most people don't do that." I was really stoked. I only rode / stood up on a couple more, but it was a ton of fun. I can easily see how people get addicted and chase waves for years. What a great sensation. (What a beautiful buzz...) It started raining really hard and got dark fast. When we had walked back to Caza Zen, the Black & White party picked up. I only had one clean black or white shirt... a long sleeve. Oh well. 4 beers and dinner were about $9. I talked to a lot of interesting people. (Earlier in the day before my lesson I talked to a couple from Columbus. We talked about the black hole that is Ohio State Buckeye football and why nobody seems to do anything but drink at social functions in Ohio.) The party went fairly late... maybe 1am. I got excited when 2 Swedish guys invited a lot of people to their room for some "Swedish water." I thought it would be a new discovery, like the aguardiente incident in Seattle. No such luck; vodka. I hate vodka.
Also, before I forget about Friday, I kept thinking English speakers I talked to were Aussies. A girl from Minnesota selling jewelry at the party sounded like that, but said it was just because she had rarely used English in the past 6 yrs. "I just decided I didn't want to live in the States anymore." Russell, my surf instructor, was from England and could pass for an Aussie too. His girlfriend definitely sounded British though. I talked to a Kiwi and recognized right away he was from New Zealand, so no error there. He re-taught me the term "seppo" for "Americans" - I had heard the term but not the origin (Yankee shortened to Yank rhymes with septic tank, shortened to seppo). He seemed surprised when I told him that if he used phrases like, "Good on you!" people from the States wouldn't understand, or that if he referred to our measurement system as the Imperial system "Americans" wouldn't know he meant weight in lbs, distance in ft/in. I honestly think most people wouldn't though. Sidenote: I find myself not liking to use the term "Americans" for people from the States, myself included. It seems wrong; arrogant. This is America too. I am not in the central USA but I am in Central America right now.

I woke up, caught the bus, the ferry, then another bus and was in Alajuela to wait to catch a taxi to the airport. Molly, Catherine and I split a room to save money and shopped a bit. I bought a hammock! Lunch at my last soda for this trip.... so filling, only 1 meal needed today, roughly translated to about $4. As the sun set we walked west to a cemetery (seemed fitting for Halloween and a nearly full moon) in town then walked back towards our hotel. It seemed like a waiting game, just killing time before we had to leave. The trip was over. We walked past the main cathedral in town... that's a nice area. After dark Molly and I walked down to Pops to get some ice cream then watched surf porn on youtube [segments of Endless Summer... I still need to rent it] on the free internet connection at the hotel. There is a very obvious police presence in Alajuela, and I did not feel in danger walking after dark.

I'm excited for the snow at home but already missing this country. I can't say for sure (obviously) yet, but I feel like this trip has yielded one of the most important weeks of my life so far. Definitely significant. Costa Rica truly is a rich country, and it gave me a lot.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Pasajes de Costa Rica, viaje 1, día 7

This is part of 8 posts where I will, with minor edits and omissions, put my journal from days in Costa Rica online. There is no real grammar structure, but hopefully it makes sense...
10/30/2009 Friday
It's another overcast day on the Pacific. Fairly choppy water. The howler monkeys woke me up and it's been fairly low key since then. I walked to the bank to get dollars for my surfing lesson. I really want to buy a hammock but don't really have room for one in my equipaje. Next time I may bring an empty duffel bag or something like that, and take a shuttle if I fill it, although I find myself preferring the public transport. On my way back to the hotel I got a ride from a guy that works at Casa Zen. I asked him what he thought of all the construction. He spoke fairly fast, so I didn't understand all of his Spanish, but essentially he said it was terrible. A very lamentable situation. He said there are no rules, no permits, no concerns for the roads, schools, locals... the dollar prevails. It's unfortunate and I hope it changes.

Pasajes de Costa Rica, viaje 1, día 6

This is part of 8 posts where I will, with minor edits and omissions, put my journal from days in Costa Rica online. There is no real grammar structure, but hopefully it makes sense...
10/29/2009 Thursday
It's a cloudy, misty day on the Pacific. Starting to sprinkle. Rain clouds overhead. It was quite a day getting here. I was awake, but not up at 7:05 when a knock at the door forced me out of bed.
There's a driver here for you.
Umm... already?
Yes. He will wait for 10 minutes.
I was told the night before to be ready at the door at 7:30. I went to the bathroom, threw on clothes, and checked out in record time. I had to break a Jaguar to leave a tip... only 1 more left. We picked up 2 more people before leaving the city; a Canadian girl, Lauren, that graduated a few months ago and has been traveling solo for a month, and a lady from California that retired down here 5 years ago. I chatted with Lauren a bit. It sounds like she has had quite a trip, starting in the Caribbean, into Panama, the Pacific coast, Monteverde, and eventually north to Belize in December. It seemed a long time for a B.C. girl (living in Calgary... lots of Calgary people down here) that didn't speak Spanish to be on her own. She was headed to Montezuma. Based on what she told me I need to see it. Another interesting USA/Canada discovery: she had never heard of the Grateful Dead or Phish. I was stunned. I translated for the group. Before we got to Puntarenas our driver complimented my Spanish, so apparently the words I do know sound correct. I was also taken for a Spaniard by an Austrian once I got to Casa Zen. She was surprised I spoke Spanish with her since I was from the States. Maybe my beard is hiding me well now.
The ferry from Puntarenas to Paquera was pretty. The islands and sea are tranquil. The road to Cobano is fairly straightforward but once you pass the turn to Montezuma, the pavement becomes dirt and the going is slow. I thought it was great. The distance between Mal País, Santa Teresa, et al surprised me... looks closer on the map. Casa Zen is a relaxing stop in my travels already. Very laid back. The kitchen is really good, the vibe is mellow. i.e. good food, company, waves. The beach here is both bigger and wetter than the Caribbean, with green cliffs off in the distance.

I have run out of superlatives for this country.

Once again I was speechless walking the beach. It is completely undisturbed. It's not for me to say what Costa Rica does with its land but I really hope they don't pave that road and make it easier to get here. There should not be hotels here. This is not a place for lawn chairs full of gringos working on their tans. This view belongs to those who respect it and earn it; Ticos, and to a lesser extent, surfers and vegabonds. (Right now this seems to be a secret place only surfers and Lonely Planet readers know about.) Waiting for the backhoe to make way for my mícrobus was half the fun of getting here. I walked the beach until I found the break all the surfers preferred... 3-5 ft waves. Surfing is an art form. Very pure, graceful, challenging. It's impossible to be stressed sitting in front of the ocean. I became Peter Gibbons. Strike that, I became The Lorax for this beach. I picked up trash on my way back to my room as it started to rain. Looking south, rain clouds drifted north. I got soaked, and it was really refreshing. Apparently it has rained here 8 days in a row, but is starting to dry out. I can't tell. Everything is saturated. [I just discovered Molly and Catherine from the airport on day 1 are staying here. Small world.] It seems even after just a few hours that this is the coast Jack Johnson personifies, with Bob Marley on the other coast. (I have only listened to reggae since I got to Costa Rica.... nothing else feels appropriate. Maybe Jack Johnson tonight.)
There is much more to see, but I really want to start a business down here... somewhere anyone with the smallest interest in jungle, ocean, rainforest wildlife, and/or Latin America need not look elsewhere. It seems the same for Peru, Mexico, etc. too though.
10:30pm... raining quite hard again. It doesn't seem like it below the trees at ground level, but it's chaos on the roof. I watched the Thursday night movie and ate here tonight. I haven't had too many vegetarian days this month, so at least I got another one in today. After the movie I talked to two Austrian girls, siblings, one from earlier today. The younger one said goodnight, shook my hand and kissed me on the cheek as is customary for her. I did so in response but was fairly taken off guard. Interesting mix of cultural norms on this planet. It's lights out early tonight for early morning surfing sessions. I think I'll rent a board and try it out. Last random thought: High stress and blood pressure patients should forgo treatment and spend their money wisely by spending an hour in a hammock listening to the rain here.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Pasajes de Costa Rica, viaje 1, día 5

This is part of 8 posts where I will, with minor edits and omissions, put my journal from days in Costa Rica online. There is no real grammar structure, but hopefully it makes sense...
10/28/2009 Wednesday
6pm... not quite a mid-day update but still earlier than other days. I'm sitting in my room at Hotel Rosa del Paseo on the west side of San Jose. It's a very nice hotel with a courtyard, tranquility, safety (you must be let in or out by the attendant), and quiet. The quiet is nice because San Jose, in my brief experience, feels loud and congested. No more than any other international city though. I had a fairly slow morning after being woken up at 5am by Cahuita's local howler monkeys. They sound like ghosts. I went back to sleep only to be woken a few hours later by torrential downpour. It seemed a good day for travel. When I got up and headed back to Cahuita NP the sun was out. I took my camera, intent on getting capuchin monkeys on film since I didn't have my camera yesterday. I saw a few, plus a sloth, but none close enough to photo well, like yesterday. It seems I'll just have to return in order to get better photos.

I made my way to the bus station at 11 to catch the 11:30 to San Jose. I found myself recalling my first minutes at the same place yesterday... a woman with a European accent (speaking English, pretty sure it was German or Austrian) had pissed me off. I heard her speaking English so I asked her which direction the beach was. She rolled her eyes and pointed. Her body language made it seem like I had just wasted hours of her life and she wanted a refund for the huge inconvenience. As I walked out she said, "This is a business, not a tourist center." in exasperation. As if I couldn't tell by the cheap Santa Claus and ornament display you were setting up when I walked by... clearly you're trying to pawn this crap to tourists and locals... in the tropics... in October. She was in my shoes once too... in Cahuita for the first time. I've met many welcoming and nice Europeans, but the general sentiment towards Americans from Europeans is totally unwarranted. I'd like to think an American in Tokyo would have treated her better. Thankfully my mind was distracted after those few minutes by a girl that sat next to me waiting for her bus. She was Latin, with wavy locks flowing from a yellow bandanna. I didn't want to be rude, but her eyes were astonishing. She kind of reminded me of the award winning National Geographic photo of the girl from Afghanistan. I formed the sentence in Spanish in my mind, "I don't want to be rude, but I feel compelled to tell you that your eyes are the most beautiful I've ever seen," but worried I had the wrong word for "rude" and said nothing. (Clearly my anti-casanova skillz extends far beyond gringas.) There is absolutely no shortage of beautiful girls (from here or anywhere else on the planet) in this country. On the bus to San Jose it rained again. Approaching San Jose from Puerto Limon the rainforest is beautiful. Everything is lush, clouds hang in the valleys, etc. A 25 year old nurse from Calgary sat next to me and we chatted for most of the ride. She was part Czech and told me Prague was nice. I've heard as much and would like to see it one day.

11pm... Yep, today was very different than yesterday, as expected, except another great dinner. I walked 4 blocks to the highly recommended Machu Picchu. I was a bit skeptical with the erotic toy shop across the street, but don't let that dissuade you. I ordered the famed pisco sour to discover the Peruvian's secret. Holy smokes, I'm glad I got the small one. Halfway through I had a solid buzz going... maybe 3 oz. I asked my waiter to choose a dish for me between a few options and he picked ARROZ CON POLLO A LA PERUANA, which as you would expect, was baked chicken served on rice in a green sauce, with peas and sliced peppers added. The sauce was very good. He also brought out a small saucer of salsa. "Cuidate, muy muy picante." Ok, noted. I found out it was habaneros.... very good but very hot. The rice was very short grained, almost round. After that I had a cafe con leche. My first Costa Rican coffee... smooth, creamy, delicious. Before leaving I told my waiter, "With certainty, this is one of the best drinks and food (I don't know the word for meal) of my life." He was grateful. I really have been eating like royalty the last several days... the heat and humidity stifles my appetite to one meal a day. I don't think I'm losing weight though. It was obvious in the restaurant I am in a wealthy part of town. The other patrons had on nice clothes, jewelry, make-up, etc. It feels OK for me to be here since I was a bit concerned about safety in the city. My hotel room is really really nice... my first hot water shower in 6 or 7 days. My clothes are drier but still smell like Central American buses (i.e. slight mildew, a lot of sweat). My t-shirts stink. Surprisingly less English spoken here than on the coast. It was kind of nice chatting for a few hours with my Canadian bus neighbor about the differences between our countries, but I also have enjoyed being forced to use Spanish. [Note to self, Albertans have good party themes. Ex: Tight & Bright (think neon spandex), Anything But Clothes (cardboard, foil, stuffed animals sewn together, etc), etc.] My Spanish listening skills are improving. I need to expand my vocabulary, and just need to be diligent about that when I get home.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Pasajes de Costa Rica, viaje 1, día 4

This is part of 8 posts where I will, with minor edits and omissions, put my journal from days in Costa Rica online. There is no real grammar structure, but hopefully it makes sense...
10/27/2009 Tuesday
Today was my earliest morning yet, but there were no problems. I got up in time to shower and get packed for a hike with Santiago. We left town promptly at 8:00. It was a completely different experience than yesterday's hike. Instead of hiking down the beach, we went into the jungle just past the Dolphin House. Santiago told me about his life, his bamboo fall/accident which gave him his limp, the history of Manzanillo, the struggle with the government and the current status of the national park/wildlife refuge, etc. In addition to all that, we saw howler monkeys, poison arrow frogs, millipedes, 2 toed sloth, tons of birds, ants, wild cacao, toucans, and scores of plans. I learned which plants he used to help his hip, which were poisonous, which you could boil to make tea and feel better, etc. Clearly Santiago's "Tylenol" came from his hometown and not a white plastic bottle. We mainly spoke English, which was fine for me. I learned which trees were too tough / hard to use for building homes (i.e. Almond) and which monkeys liked to spend the day in (i.e. Balsa), etc. We walked along private property (marked off by a vine which grows in a straight line) and I found myself hoping the people that owned it could keep it but still call it a national park... maybe a working NP of some kind. It's a tough sociological situation. Either way, it's a beautiful area so I hope it gets some kind of elevated and permanent protected status. That place has quite a story for a town that has only had electricity for 20 years. Seriously, they used candles for lights after dark, had no fans, TVs, no fridges, etc until I was in 2nd grade. Insane. A beautiful place. After the tour I checked out of Maxi's and caught the 12:45 bus after a bit of shopping.
Cahuita is not for everyone. You can get large quantities of several drugs here without really searching. Regardless of whether you like the town, you will love the national park on the edge of town. (Actually, the town used to be in the NP at Punta Cahuita, but the government pushed the town north, away from the wildlife. The houses are still there, but full of snakes instead of people now.) I checked into Cabinas Atlantic Surf and immediately my pulse slowed. Even more so than Puerto Viejo and Manzanillo, this town makes it impossible to worry or hurry. I made my way to the ATM and then the N.P. 500m from the park entrance along the beach I saw 8 White-headed Capuchin monkeys at once. They were mad at the dogs below them; breaking off branches and throwing them down with strong force. One of them hurled a huge branch, maybe 20 lbs... surprising for a small monkey weighing less. A park ranger ran to the rescue and used the same branch to chase away the dogs. I swam in the turbulent ocean after watching the monkeys a while. These waters were tough! Waves came in pairs, except when they synched up and made one big wave. I could let a big wave carry me all the way to shore. At the same time, the currents of that wave swept me out after it broke. My first real experience with riptides. I was never really worried, but definitely aware of my distance from shore. The waves were so big I could not jump and keep my head above them.... they would whitecap and break further out and be tall/strong when they reached me. A lot of fun. After swimming, they monkeys seemed calm without dogs below them. They were literally on the beach... if they fell at high tide they would get wet. Obviously a narrow stretch of sand. They were very picturesque. Quite a day for wildlife!
After drying off I had dinner with Brian, a fellow Cabinas Atlantic Surfer from Seattle. I had a pineapple smoothie drink with dinner; marlin, rice and beans, crispy plantains and salad. The marlin came in a Caribbean curry. Brilliant! I've eaten a lot of good food in my life, and this was near the top of the list. Caribbean cooking is part of the draw of this coast. Afterwards I drank and talked U.S. politics with Wyoming, Brian and Graven (a Cahuita native). I wish I had a few more days to see Cahuita NP, surf Playa Negra, etc. but the Pacific and San Jose calls me. Tomorrow will be very different than the past several days.

Pasajes de Costa Rica, viaje 1, día 3

This is part of 8 posts where I will, with minor edits and omissions, put my journal from days in Costa Rica online. There is no real grammar structure, but hopefully it makes sense...
10/26/2009 Monday
I didn't realize it was Monday until I checked my phone to get the date for today's ramblings. I believe that means I'm getting the hang of the pura vida. Monday is very significant in my home life... here not so much. Aside from the bus schedule and a few restaurants, nobody seems to care what day it is. Every day is a good one. And I agree. This is off topic, but I'm starting to think of the Spanish translation for these sentences as I write. Maybe it's a game or mental test, but I think it helps me know where the gaps in my Spanish are.
This morning I woke up and took my time packing my things. I walked into town to change $30 into ~15,000 colones and stood in line at the bank for a long time, only to have their computer system shut down when I was next. After several minutes we all gave up hope. I walked to the currency exchange company and was charged a slightly higher rate (as I was told would happen) but at least had my 15k colones. I stopped by the bus station to get my ticket for the 11:45 to Manzanillo but was told I couldn't buy one until 11:30. Instead I did some window shopping. Before buying anything I stopped in the post office to see if I could mail to the US from there. The girl working spoke no English and asked me a question I didn't understand, so I gave up. I felt defeated and decided to just check out and eat my brunch (the remainder of a beef empanada from the bus station... perhaps questionable by this point, but still looking OK after 2 days in the fridge...) on the beach.
The bus ride to Manzanillo was quite an adventure... the old bus couldn't help but hit a lot of the potholes on the road. The most worrisome part, however, was crossing bridges. There are several bridges between Puerto Viejo and Manzanillo, all of which are exactly the width of said rickety bus. We slowly crossed each one, but took the last one at a slight angle. The bang/crunch we made sounded like significant damage to both the old bridge and the old fender or wheelwell on the old bus. Oh well, we crossed. I was a tad concerned we would end up in the river below us and recalled a story Whitney told me yesterday where a bus drove off a bridge near Quepos this week and a few of the folks that survived the fall still died by way of hungry Caiman. I'm happy to report there were no such deaths today, but the bus and bridge struggle seems to be ubiquitous.
Anyways, I sat next to a very nice Guatemalan girl on the bus. She had been to Asheville, NC and the Smokies and hoped to see Colorado one day even though it snowed there. She spoke good English so we had a nice conversation. Ironically I found her easier to understand than most of the Jamaican English speakers I've talked to in Manzanillo today. Despite the Rasta influence in Puerto Viejo, I didn't find it a problem until today. Manzanillo is essentially the end of the road on the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica, just a few miles from Panama. It feels like just a few miles from Kingston. The bus stopped in front of Maxi's cabinas & restaurant so I walked all of 10 meters to book my night's lodging... I splurged on a room w/ A/C.

After checking in I took my backpack and headed to the guide house for the wildlife refuge. Nobody was there, but there was a sign on the door with names and phone numbers of guides.
I headed down the coast intent on finding scores of howler monkeys on my own. While I didn't quite make it to Punta Mona, I did still have the hike of a lifetime. The beaches here are incredible, as is the jungle. I walked along the water to a point where a trail meandered into the jungle / refuge. After passing the Dolphin Lodge, civilization of any kind fades away. Humanity too, for that matter. I found myself on a damp mud trail with jaw-dropping coves to my left, rainforest on my right, and a canopy above me. No need for sunglasses on the trail. I was completely alone for literally a few hours. At times I expected a jaguar to jump out and end me... I recorded the sound of the jungle on my phone. I was Robinson Crusoe. Once again, how in the world did the Spaniards leave here after landing? I'm glad they did. I half expected to be shot by poisonous frog darts and cannibalized by an indigenous tribe (they're nearby). This was the most wild, natural, untrammeled place I've ever seen. At times I caught myself audibly uttering "un. be. lievable." to nobody. Several times actually. Thousands of ants used the trail I hiked. They formed a long line and slowly carried leaves and flowers home. I made sure not to bother them fearing they might collectively turn on me. I then realized I was in sandals with no bug spray... unprepared. N0-see-ums ate my legs. Better than a snake or a spider (I saw both). I thought if something did happen to me, nobody would find me until at least tomorrow. It was starting to get dim in the forest anyways, so I headed back. I don't want to over-emphasize the fear though. The overwhelming feeling was simple disbelief at the beauty. Some of the trees where as big as the Spruce of Olympic NP... maybe saplings when Columbus landed. I truly was stunned to silence by the experience. This is the prettiest ocean setting I've ever seen... and almost nobody else is here.
After spending some time on the beach and swimming until the sun set I ate 300kg of today's lobster catch and asked Dennis (a Canadian logger ex-pat from B.C.) how many people lived here. In a mixed Canadian/Rasta accent he replied, "Oh, I don't know. Maybe 150." There can't be more than 25 tourists here. To say you can't exactly buy tourist trinkets such as a shot glass or post card in this town is an understatement. Right now I might be as off the beaten path as possible. While the kids in town started the nightly soccer game I scored a guide for tomorrow morning. I recalled seeing Santiago's name on the guide house door sign, so when he introduced himself to me, barefoot and drinking at the bar, I asked if he was the guide. Yep. "Cool, I want to go see monkeys in the morning." The price of a 4 hour guided trek went from $100 to $35 when his boss entered the picture. I don't understand his Spanish very well but will study tonight and hope it goes OK. I think he recognizes I am not just a dumb Yankee after telling him $100 was too much, and he seemed happy to help me, so I'm excited. The lobster was probably the best I'll ever have. It came with fried plantains and Caribbean spicy rice and beans. Delicious. That plate and 1 beer ran $22, so it was pricy even by U.S. standards, but those were two fresh lobster tails I'll remember, and I agree with the guidebook that Maxi's kitchen boasts some of the best cooking in the area. I also chatted with an American girl who is from D.C. but went to U. Dayton. Small world. She had long dreads and works on a sustainable farm in the woods. I think day 3 has exceeded days 1 and 2. Based on the Salsa and Cumbia coming from next door, today is far from over. What a wonderful place this southern Costa Rica Caribbean coast is.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Pasajes de Costa Rica, viaje 1, día 2

This is part of 8 posts where I will, with minor edits and omissions, put my journal from days in Costa Rica online. There is no real grammar structure, but hopefully it makes sense...
10/25/2009 Sunday
In many respects this was a Sunday unlike any other in my life. I woke up well rested but extremely parched around 9am. It took me a while to mobilize, but I was eager to familiarize myself with my new surroundings. I walked into town and had to laugh. I expected to see something along the lines of at least Playa del Carmen south of Cancun after all I had read. Indeed, most of the business in town is built around tourism, but unless there are major changes (hopefully not) this area won't be a new Mayan Riviera for at least 75 years. I would guess this is what corners of Florida looked like around 1900 - minus the cars, scooters, electricity... very few businesses were open. I bought a 600ml water bottle from a stand at Playa Negra for 500 colones. After walking Playa Negra and being somewhat disappointed in the scenery (aside from the intrigue of sand that resembled crushed coal) I decided to walk to Salsa Brava and watch some surfers. No surfers. It dawned on me that most of the town was probably just going to bed, based on the scene at 9pm last night. Oh well, at least I had my bearings. I had planned on being out most of the day but instead was back to the hotel within an hour. A little confused about the lack of picturesque beaches, I re-read my guide books and finally read that the real gems of the coast were a few km south of town and got more interesting as you approach Panama. I headed back to town and rented a bike with the goal of scouting the beaches and ultimately riding home for dinner. Bikes are the standard means of transport in this town. My specific bike today was probably made before I was born... a green fixie (pedal backwards = brakes though) with mushy tires. $5 for the day. Content with looking slightly less a tourist, I road the "paved" road towards Manzanillo. Beyond the fringe of Puerto Viejo, the jungle is impressive and the Cabinas become more impressive. It seems the wealthy ex-pats live this way... I pass a sign selling 49 acres of land including beach for $150k and have to stop myself from immediately turning on my phone. After about 10 minutes I pass a wooden sign with "Cocles" carved in it. The road veered towards the beach and revealed paradise. Clean sand (there was trash on the beaches in PV, although all the recycle / trash stations with encouraging signs that clean beaches are better seemed to indicate progress on that front), waves big enough to possibly surf, clear water, tall palms for shade. This was what I had seen from the plane yesterday and longed for. I locked my bike to a tree and walked toward the water. I dropped my backpack and tested it out... the water was colder than Tulum, Mx but still quite warm. I walked back to my towel, applied excessive sunscreen and lad down to just listen to the lapping of the waves for a while. After 30 minutes I was roasting and decided it was safe to leave my things and enjoy Caribbean swimming. I took my rightful spot directly in front of my towel and began bobbing in the break. I noticed the two girls within earshot of me had American accents and spoke English. I asked if they had been to Manzanillo, hoping to find out if the beaches were in fact more impressive further south. Although they hadn't, we did end up chatting for a while. They had just moved from Jacksonville, FL after graduating from UT Knoxville, to Manuel Antonio on the Pacific coast. Very nice, welcoming, well traveled girls. At 1:30 they asked if I knew what time it was. I opened my zippered pocket to grab my watch right as a wave hit me. I immediately remembered my bike lock keys had been in that pocket, and of course no longer were. A few minutes of searching produced no results. Whitney and Rachel felt bad, so I borrowed a bike while they shared their second. I felt bad but the rental guy said it was no problem, and a few minutes later I jumped on the back of a scooter with a guy owning chain cutters.
[Sidenote: explaining "lifeguard" to a man that doesn't speak English is tough. Ex:
I lost my bike keys.
Where?
Playa Cocles, in the ocean.
Where is the bike?
On a tree near the... the man that watches those that swim.
- blank stare -
When a person looks at swimmers, when it's dangerous, from above.
Oh, near that man?
Yes, on a tree near the man.
]
Potholes require good ab strength and balance while riding a Vespa on a gravel road. Minutes later I was back at the bike shop. $4 for a new lock. Pura vida. The girls had showered and got their bags to catch the 4pm bus to San Jose, then Manuel Antonio. We ate lunch at my first soda. An enormous amount of rice and beans topped with ~10 oz. of fried chicken. Clearly lunch is the biggest meal of the day. Food for a whole day plus juice and tip for $7. Not bad. After lunch we rode to my room so they could change out of wet clothes, borrow some Aloe Vera (we all got burned), exchange emails, and invite me to Quepos for a surfing contest on Halloween. I've already paid for my hotel in Santa Teresa then but may take them up on it. I'm not sure if I could get to SJO on time for my flight, so it's not likely, but a good option anyways. I wish I were less worried about making plans in advance. I read a lot about Manuel Antonio and it sounds fun. Either way, they caught the bus and I headed south again. I rode as far as I could before needing to turn around to return my bike. I stopped at the beach near Punta Uva. There was 1 other person swimming about 1/4 mile from me, but otherwise not a soul. I have no idea how/why Christopher Columbus kept going after he landed there, but I believe it looks about the same now as it did then. Incredible. I saw my first wild monkey there too. (I have heard several howler monkeys but not seen one.) By the time I had my camera out he was two trees away. A really awesome experience. So much character/personality in his face. A that point I decided to change plans and spend tomorrow night in Manzanillo with the monkeys, sloths and macaws.
After returning the bike, I decided to have a beer and dessert (still mostly full from lunch). Rest. de Paso, right across the street from my place and on the path to the beach, was a good choice. The dulce de leche crepe was a huge success. Reggae bumping from the speakers... a good end to my day. They sold bulk mate but don't serve it. Bummer since I didn't bring any. The Che poster at the bar made me want some. I settled for reading Compañero on my hammock instead. I met my Colombian neighbor then. She has a good story; in the fair trade coffee business, travels a lot... going to Seattle in February to work and learn English, then off to England to sell fair trade coffee there too. Very cool. Based on my encounter with her and her friends, I believe Colombian women could take over the planet if they organized and chose to do so... they would be supermodels in the States. I am meeting many diverse and wonderful people so far. Feliz noches.

Pasajes de Costa Rica, viaje 1, día 1

This is part of 8 posts where I will, with minor edits and omissions, put my journal from days in Costa Rica online. There is no real grammar structure, but hopefully it makes sense...
10/24/2009 Saturday
My upcoming night's sleep feels like one of the hardest earned in my life. Here's to sleeping like a baby! I write this from a situation my dad would find a personal hell. Tonight stands alone as the most humid in my life, and the fan isn't quite keeping up to say the least. I am in room #3 at the Exotica Lodge in Puerto Viejo de Talamanca approx. 100m from the Atlantic Ocean in southern Costa Rica. I was too tired to care upon arrival, but in the morning will try to do the American thing and buy myself into a more comfortable situation. The fridge and the fan work, and the cold water is nice, so it could be far worse... camping in Moab in August, for example... Anyways, this story really begins yesterday around lunch time. I was trail running on a stunning fall day in Boulder at the base of the Flatirons. No surprise I didn't keep up with coworkers Darren and Tim, but it was really the perfect use of a lunch hour given the weather, setting, etc. I really love the fall. After trail running I finished the work day and headed to happy hour to celebrate several coworkers birthdays. A few hours later I made my way to DIA for the 1am flight to ATL. (By the way, I found it especially tough to leave Tacoma this time. I know he's fine but I feel kinda bad leaving my little buddy for so long. He's a good kid...) I didn't really sleep on the flight, and didn't really sleep on my 4 hr layover in ATL, so I was ready for sleep when I got on the plane to San Jose. That didn't really happen either. (I met a girl from Jersey who lives in Aspen that slept soundly though. I told her I was jealous when she woke up and we talked for a while. Molly... she was definitely a Molly based on previous experience... reminded me a lot of Kendra too. Sidenote: all of the girls I've ever met living in Aspen have proven especially intriguing. Rad chicas. I might have to move there.) Sleep was in short supply then too. I was excited to see the Atlantic. Flying over Florida, however, was shameful. There is no more green, no more swamp... only roads and vacation homes. It was depressing. 3 minutes after Florida disappeared, Cuba came into view. Unspoiled white sand beaches... much better! Our pilot seemed to agree. After Cuba came the dark blue ocean. So dark, it seemed fake, like a bluebird day on the slopes in April where I would almost swear the sky has switched to purple, but I digress...
I really believe it was love at first sight for Costa Rica and I. I had a window seat and finally saw land again. Unspoiled jungle led right up to the coast where white wave breaks met white sand. A muddy brown river flowed slowly into the Atlantic... maybe the Parismina. The Canal del Tortuguero was also in plain sight, but otherwise nothing but rainforest jungle blanketing gentle mountain slopes. As we neared SJO you could see crops, but it was much more pure than Florida a few hours prior.
SJO took me by surprise, as did the humidity. The airport was so small, much smaller than Cancun, for example, which supports a smaller town. I changed into a t-shirt while waiting for the checked baggage to start and regretted not also carrying on shorts. I forgot that 70*F in Boulder feels nothing like 70*F in the topics. Oh well. I took a taxi to the Caribeño bus station... the driver spoke almost no English. It was put up or shut up time for my Spanish lessons. When he dropped me off, he complimented my Spanish, so I guess I did OK. He asked me where I was going, for how long, whether I'd been to CR before... simple stuff. When we got to the bus station I thought it was a joke. No tourism here... la gente in the true colors. Complete culture shock. I questioned this whole trip; I was scared and alone. No English. Period. 4200 colones (~$8) bought me a seat for 4 hours on a bus with no AC and no bathroom. Again, still exhausted, I wanted to sleep but couldn't. As we descended from San Jose to the Atlantic I was in awe at how beautiful the country is. My eyes were huge for the first half hour. The jungle is in command, and only a tiny strip of pavement slices through it. Viva la selva. Waterfalls, mudslides, clouds like Gorillas in the Mist... very captivating. The my neighbor with the window seat woke up. This was a true answered prayer. For 3.5 hours we talked in mostly Spanish... again, almost no English. We talked about interests, music, movies, jazz, the towns we drove through... He was 23, from Nicaragua, 1/4 Italian, had an ex-girlfriend in Spain whose dad was African and mom Swiss. Trying to explain bluegrass proved unsuccessful aside from explaining the state my brother lives in has grass called bluegrass. We talked about being single, my plans in CR, religion. He is Presbyterian and in seminary helping a remote village on the Panama border. We talked about missionaries, favorite foods, etc. I was in disbelief that I could understand him and vise versa. My brain hurt but spirits very high as the sun set. Too tired to walk or think, I took a cab to my hotel. 45 seconds later I was here... unpacked a bit and then sat down on the bed. The linens are clean. I'm not sure what the pillow is made of. It will do. A spider and centipede crawl across the floor. Thinking I should put up my mosquito net, I eat an apple and fall asleep. I woke up 2 hrs later. I need more rest. It's 11:30pm. Almost 2 days with little more than a nap. Tomorrow will be low stress! Until then, insects, birds (and the occasional monkey) sing me to sleep. Pura vida.

Friday, October 9, 2009

making the most of the summer

Alright, now that it's mid-October I can write about mid-July here...

Me voy a Tejas (Wedding #2)
The weekend after Ryan and I got rained out as described in the previous post, I flew to Austin to be in my second wedding of the summer. It was great to be back in Austin, and believe it or not the 104 degree heat didn't get to me that much. In a break from the wedding festivities, I got to see a few friends from a previous job and have wonderful Tex-Mex... not to mention beer with lime in it that wasn't Corona. What a fabulous idea that is.

But back to the wedding... I got to see my sister and new brother-in-law's home during a post-rehearsal open house. It was great seeing family and meeting new faces on the other side of the wedding. For some reason it felt like I hadn't spent that much time with the fam in this kind of setting in a long time, even though a lot of us had spent Christmas together and we had a wedding the previous May. Ahh well... it was good. Real good. We had the rehearsal dinner at Texas Land & Cattle, of course. It was a traditional Cowboy/Western wear themed party, but I showed up in a guayabera shirt, more of a gaucho than a cowboy. (I had tried to pick up some chaps on craigslist but nothing really fell into place.)

I called out a few relatives that I heard had spent a meal at Quizno's or Subway or something unallowable like that. My sister (the bride) thought I was wasted, but my announcement to the whole party to consult me for culinary advice was sincere and sober. Let thee be warned; the food in Austin is way too damned good to bore your taste buds! Don't give in to the national chain!

Wedding day was very hot - 104 - and the wedding was outside in the afternoon. The stage:
I would have preferred it were October, but there was a nice Central Texas breeze blowing in from the Longhorn ranch on the other side of the fence cooling us off. It was what it was, and we had fun. Amazingly enough, despite me being the only remaining single sibling, there was no onslaught of "so when are you getting married?" jeers. Gracias.

It all went way too fast, and I found myself needing to spend the next few weekends doing little of note.

On the Sharp End in Boulder Canyon
On a Sunday afternoon in mid-August Brian and I went up to Boulder Falls to climb Buried Alive, a 3 pitch sport climb on Tonnere Tower. I decided to put up or shut up, and had a fine learning experience in the process. This was only my second lead, and the first multi-pitch lead attempt. I felt confident in putting my skills to the test, and was psyched to have a partner to follow me up. There was a couple starting our intended climb just as we got there, so we decided to start on something else to warm up with. (Feel free to grin and laugh now if you know where this is going.) We chose the route that looked pretty straightforward about 20 feet to the right of the main event. Once I was 30 feet up I realized that the next 30 feet were beyond 5.9, and had a date with an "almost epic..." After backing off the crux of a 5.11 pitch that I couldn't finish (not to mention lead), making use of a nearby tree, downclimbing to try the 10a next door, not realizing I left a draw in the 3rd-to-last bolt on the 11 (that bolt is 2nd from top here, with my tree in the background), and generally doing my best to ignore the sensation of the shriveling of my testicles, I found myself standing on a ledge to anchor in to the top of the 11 but with too much friction in the system to actually pull the rope into the anchors. Brian had loads of slack in the line, but I literally was pulling with all my strength and no budging. The rope is fine and wasn't stuck on anything but it was not happy being clipped into 2 routes at the same time. Too much friction. Lesson learned. I was glad nobody else was watching, or at least I couldn't hear them laughing from the parking lot. Anyways, then Brian gave it a shot and did very well up to the point that he had decided was far enough. Afterward we hit up the main event since our neighbors were coming down p1 of Buried Treasure. I then discovered the enormous and wonderfully pleasant difference between 5.9ish and 5.11ish. I got to the top of p1 and Brian cleaned up after me. We then realized our brains and arms were jello so it was time to rap 95' back to safety.

I would really like to try to finish Buried Treasure, and would also like to try The Twilight Kid again but only as long as somebody can lead it or toprope it for me... ahh well. All in all I was thrilled to have the knowledge and ability to get myself out of a bad situation, then lead at least one pitch, belay my 2nd-er and get us back to the deck via rapping safely. My new rope and draws did their job, so I was happy. At least now I know for sure where my limits lie and can work within them and hope to push beyond them safely in the future.

Muzzurrah Hilltoppin' in the Sawatch
A few weekends later Phish rode into town and tore Red Rocks to pieces, but I didn't have tickets for any of the 4 nights. The best alternative was to get the heck outta dodge and pretend I wasn't missing one of the best weekends they ever put on and hike a 14er. [Seriously, if you haven't heard these shows, get them! In hindsight, I should have ponied up $250 to a scalper to see 7/30. It is a terrific show, a fun cerebral listen, and gives hope that Phish is back to a far superior era than some of the more recent ones. It probably sounds dumb, but it was sooo uplifting to hear them reaching their full potential again. Welcome back boys, I'll see you soon!]

On the last day of July Ryan, Allison, Trey and I headed up Missouri Gulch towards our old friend Winfield and camped on a cold night. On August 1st we summitted Missouri Mountain. I was worried about trip reports mentioning the climb from the trailhead to treeline being a memorable nightmare of switchbacks. To my surprise and satisfaction (and definitely due to the fact that I had begun running/training for an upcoming 10k) I had little problem with this section. I actually could not believe how well I did; the difference was more than enough for my hiking partners to notice. I am usually terrible at ascending steep hills, but was very comfortable all the way up. Once at treeline we noticed there was fresh snow on Belford, a neighboring 14er. [Snow in July! This has been quite a cool and wet summer, to say the least.]

Once in the basin above treeline, the valley opens up and the hike is trivial until you reach the beginning of Missouri proper. Beyond that, there is a fairly serious incline gaining the final ridge, but once you're on the ridge you're home free. The weather was perfect for us, and we probably could have stayed on top for hours if we cared to. I was overwhelmingly satisfied that my lungs were getting in shape, and to see Huron, the first 14er I summited two years prior, from another angle. The central Sawatch aren't the most challenging mountains in the state, but they offer great views and a great excuse to get outside! Here is the obligatory evidence:

Wedding #3
The next weekend I borrowed a coworker's condo in Frisco and found myself back in the mountains. This was the third wedding of the summer for me, Tony and Shelly's, atop Keystone. This was yet another wonderful weekend in the hills, spent relaxing and enjoying the company of college friends. Before the wedding Ryan and I took his kayaks out on Dillon and had a nice time on the water. After that it was off to Keystone to ride the gondola to 11,000', sunglasses mandatory, with Quandary as the backdrop to the bride and groom's big day.

This comment is in no way an attempt to take away from any of the other weddings I have attended, but seeing Tony and Shelly together was very moving. They truly were the most excited couple I had ever seen walk down the aisle. Tony cried and Shelly glowed... that was pretty much the only way I could describe it. Maybe I shouldn't say any more. It was just really moving. I hope one day to have that same experience.

You gotta run like an Antelope, outta control!
I spent the better part of August and September gradually increasing my running distance to over 6 miles at a 10 minute mile pace to run a 10k section of the Boulder Marathon. Again, historically my cardio has been terrible, so agreeing to run a leg of a marathon was not something I necessarily jumped at when the opportunity presented itself. I did look at it as a way to improve my health (mental and physical) and to prove to myself that I actually could run that distance, regardless of the pace. Averaging a 10-minute mile is hardly worth getting CNN on speaker phone for, but it was what my body would consent to, so I was happy to take what it would give. I finished my 6 miles in about an hour, as expected, and wasn't too sore afterwards, so I can't really complain, but to be perfectly honest I was disappointed with my time. I had trained at a faster pace and hoped for the race to be my best pace yet. This was likely due to the fact that I started running unprepared and with a full bladder, forcing me to stop to use a porta-pot before starting my 5th mile. That was a mistake, to say the least. I guess I'll have to run the Bolder Boulder next Memorial Day and improve :) All in all, it was a goal accomplished and a pat on the back for my lungs to have allowed me to run at all, so I was thankful for the opportunity and look forward to the next one. Handing off the ankle RFID to my teammate to finish the race I thought back to when I first moved to Boulder and how I probably couldn't have run 2 miles without being completely winded. I suppose it's true that sometimes you need to look behind you to see where you've been and appreciate how far you've come...

Now that the race is over, I'll probably try to improve my time over shorter distances (maybe starting with 3 miles, for example), but either way I've been keeping up the running. It's funny what wanting to be in good shape for ski season will make you do... and speaking of, it's currently snowing right now, so ski season isn't too far away! Snow, baby, snow. I am seriously driven to not let my lungs keep me from ascending a 14er couloir and skiing down it, so hopefully I'll continue to improve until I really need it in the spring.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

making the most of the rainy season, part III

Wow, it has been a long time since I have updated here... If I remember correctly, there is still much to tell about the rainy season, so here goes.

In late May I took an Intermediate Snow course through CMC Boulder, which was a continuation of last year's Beginner Snow course. In Intermediate we learned how to use snow pro, roped travel, setup anchors, and self arrest with crampons. It built on Basic Snow and the Basic Rock School from earlier in the spring, and was a nice culmination to likely end my classes for a while. I now feel well equipped to safely travel up couloirs (for ski descents, of course). I really like the idea of snow travel as a means of ascent (avoiding the crowds and extending the climbing season), especially when combined with a ski descent (hence the Avy 1 class also). The next class I take will probably be Avy 2 and then eventually leading trad rock. After that, I think I am schooled out.

In early June I bouldered a bit on Mt. Sanitas right outside of Boulder. It was the first time I had really spent much time on Sanitas, and I have to say it surprised me. Maybe I wasn't in the beginner area, but I definitely thought the climbing would be easier. I've heard about tons of V0/V1 problems but didn't find too many when I was there. It was really busy but the rock was much kinder on my hands than Flagstaff is though, so it's a nice little outing in its own right.

A few weeks after Sanitas, I took a spur of the moment long weekend to the Telluride Bluegrass Festival. I went with the same friend I took up to Sanitas. We left Boulder on Wednesday after work and had what basically equates to 5 days of ridiculous debauchery in one of the most incredible settings on the planet. Let's just say that if there ever was a weekend where I put on a good Hunter S. Thompson impersonation, this, dear friends, was one of a select few, hence the leaving out of several details here. Before leaving Boulder we stopped at Liquor Mart for provisions, leaving town with a handful of bottles of beer, a 1.75L bottle of wine, a bottle of vodka, and two 12 packs of canned beer. Wednesday night we drove as far as we could before I started to get spooked of driving with all the deer on the side of the road. We got to Monarch Pass, where it was still very cold and snow was in our campsight. (Nothing like a little alcohol to take the chill out of the air...) We took our time getting going and got into Telluride around noon on Thursday. I hadn't been back to Telluride since I was a boy (middle school?) so this was a very nice reunion. The San Juans were simply stunning, with tons (tons!) of snow still on them. Most of the first day was spent drinking and unloading the Jeep while we set up our camp, finally seeing a few shows, and then head back to camp only to fall asleep and ultimately miss David Byrne's headline of the night. We made friends anyways, and ultimately did not go back to bed until the sun was coming up over the mountains. We slept under the dawn/stars and woke up to begin drinking again. We had a few beers for breakfast (which became the norm of the weekend) before we headed into town for the shows. We danced all day and I got a pretty good sunburn on my feet. That night Béla Fleck & Toumani Diabaté were definitely the highlight show of the weekend for me.

Every act we saw was fantastic though... it got to the point where I would stop checking the schedule, because it simply did not matter who was playing. Every band I knew put on a great show, and every band I didn't know encouraged me to check them out when I got home.

Saturday we woke to a completely different cold and rainy setting, so we headed into town for shelter... not to mention we had run out of beer. We reloaded at a nearby gas station and then headed to the bars. Most of the bars in town were packed, but we managed to find a corner where we watched an incredible dance-off by two of the drunkest people I've seen in recent memory. Ex:


We made our way back to the stage for Yonder Mountain, who were terrific as always, and during which I ran into another Boulderite... small world. The rest of the lineup that night was incredible, with Gaelic Storm capping roughly 10 hours of dancing. My legs were tired, and I was bummed going to bed because Sunday meant a long drive home back to responsibility. The 3am quesadillas helped ease the pain though :) Sunday we caught the first two shows, packed up our tent and headed back to Boulder. I was bummed we had to leave before Emmylou Harris played, but I knew we had to. We went home via I-70 instead of 285, and that made a truly wonderful Tour de Colorado. Photos of the weekend can be found at http://www.flickr.com/photos/brett_burch/sets/72157620431813195.

The weekend after Telluride Ryan, Allison, Brian and I hiked up La Plata via the Southwest Ridge. Ryan and I got our revenge after last year's Jeep-sinking 4th of July incident. It was our first new 14er of the year, and a lot of fun, although (this is the rainy season, after all) we did get rained on and had some nearby lightning. We actually ended up removing our packs to run quickly to the summit and claim our prize before a quick descent. I was happy to have made it down fairly dry, but will try to not cut it so close with the weather in the future. Photos of the outing are at http://www.flickr.com/photos/brett_burch/sets/72157620702598064/.

Lastly, Ryan and I tried to climb on 4th of July weekend in Boulder Canyon and got rained out. As soon as we reached the crag after some trailhead-finding troubles the clouds let rip with rain and lightning nearby. It looked something like:

I was happy just to head into town for some time at The Spot. The 4th of July truly seems cursed for us.

Thus concludes the rainy season. Bring on the snow season!!

Friday, July 3, 2009

making the most of the rainy season, part II: Tuning Fork couloir

After my hiatus mentioned at the end of the previous post, on May 30th I decided to employ my ice axe, crampons, and Avy 1 class lessons in an attempt of my first day of backcountry skiing (aside from the field trip in the avy class). I joined a coworker on his annual outing up to Torrey's Peak, a Front Range 14er which I've summited in the summer. Instead of the route from Steven's Gulch, we headed up Grizzly Gulch to Tuning Fork couloir with the objective of skiing the same route ascended. I felt safe knowing that both guys I was going with had done the exact route previously, that the season was getting late enough to have a nicely consolidated snowpack, and that we had an easy emergency bailout possible by simply clicking in and pointing downhill.

We all had beacon / shovel / probes just in case, but to be honest, my bigger concern was whether my cardio would allow me to keep up with guys in much better shape than I. My disadvantage was exaggerated by not having an AT or tele setup, so I climbed in mountaineering boots with both my alpine skis and alpine boots on my back instead of just wearing my ski boots for the climb (... let's just say that I am now acutely aware that my alpine boots weigh 10 lbs). I was extremely excited but in all honesty, because of this, I had really low expectations of actually making it to the top and was resolved to be content with however the day turned out.

We left Darren's house in Golden around 5:15am and headed towards the Bakerville exit. Rob's Land Rover made quick work of the 4WD road, and we hit the trail with clear skies. After a little bit of routefinding, stream crossing, and postholing, we made it to the steeper section where you gain the bench that is effectively the apron of the couloir. Apparently I hadn't eaten enough for breakfast, because in between the time that we put on our crampons and reaching the top of the bench (just a few minutes) at ~11,400' my stomach dropped and I was completely out of steam. I started in on my lunch before starting the couloir (and the climb in earnest). After a few minutes' delay, I was off, trailing behind Darren and Rob but making progress.


I got into a decent rhythm of "plant ice axe, step, step, repeat" and slowly formed the opinion that this was the true way to fully experience a mountain.

After a while clouds started to roll in, and it seemed like making it to the top would not be possible. We pressed on knowing that a quick getaway was easy, but apparently only averaging about 500' elevation gain / hour. In the end this proved too slow, and we were turned around somewhere around 12,600' having climbing only about halfway up the couloir. As the graupel began to fall, we moved skis from packs to feet and headed down. I hadn't realized how exhausted I was until I tried to make a few turns. My legs were absolute mush. (Note to self: leave enough gas in the tank to be able to let 'er rip next time.) I made it down OK, but wasn't able to fully enjoy the descent because of the condition of my legs. Darren's video of me tells the tale... embarrassing. If I had been fresher, those may have been my funnest tracks yet... they were easily my hardest earned ones. I will definitely be returning to complete the journey in seasons to come.

Hopefully without putting too much emphasis on these points, I'd like to also point out that I personally consider this a foray into more legitimate mountaineering (I don't really count the glissade of Cristo couloir), as well as a deviation from previous 14er outings where the main objective was the summit. I was climbing on this occasion not primarily to make it to the top, but to reap the rewards of the climb on the descent. I wasn't hiking to the top to check a mountain off of a to-do list. (I had already been to the top of Torrey's, after all. I've talked to this before, so I won't dwell...) I'm not about to suggest that all my previous 14er outings have been boring aside from the summit photo (completely the opposite), but still, this day seemed like a progression in my mountain experience, or whatever you want to call it, and it felt very good. The climb was extremely interesting in its own right, and wasn't just a means to an end. I was thrilled to be using my axe and crampons instead of following a train of backpacks up a relatively straightforward trail. What little couloir kool-aid the day provided was more than enough to plant the seed for an addiction to climbing couloirs and skiing them... or getting off-piste turns at the very least.

This was one of the most rewarding days on a 14er I've had, despite not summiting. I re-learned that eating, timing of nutrition, and mental clarity are hugely important in these kind of outings. I have also officially decided to do something about my crappy lungs. I'm not going to allow myself to just be the slow one in the group anymore. If I am serious about intense exertion at high altitute, I need to get my lungs in better shape, and so I will. My photos of the outing are at http://www.flickr.com/photos/brett_burch/sets/72157618945111321.

making the most of the rainy season

I've been slacking on keeping you, the loyal reader, up to date here. Sooooooooooo here goes. From mid-April through May:

After April powder I moved on to April rain at lower elevation. I took the Basic Rock class through the Boulder CMC. We had 2 night classes during the week and then 3 consecutive Saturday field trips. It turns out that all 3 of our Saturdays were either rainy or snowy, so we didn't actually get much climbing in, but I still learned a decent amount. I still can't lead and don't have much knowledge about building anchors, but at least now I can second multipitch, prussik up something I can't climb, rappel around a knot, tie you off if you break your leg as my leader, and get myself out of a system to go get help.

The following Saturday actually wasn't too rainy, so I went climbing with Ryan, Tony, and Joe as part of Ryan's bachelor party/day. We went up to Mt. Boner in the Ironclads area for some top-roping. I led my first sport route, a 5.6,
and for some reason got spooked when it was time to come down. A bit embarrassing. I recovered by climbing a 5.10b. Considering I hadn't (and still haven't) climbed 5.9 outside before, I was a bit surprised to have made it to the top. It was a short route, and I might not have done it exactly right, but either way, it was a fun climb. Apparently my sessions at The Spot have been paying off. A few guys from work and I were recently wondering how hard we could climb outside, so I guess we'll have to see if I can actually climb 5.10 again soon. The rest of the photos from the Ironclads outing are available at http://www.flickr.com/photos/brett_burch/sets/72157617844291613.

The weekend after climbing outside was Ryan's and Allison's wedding, so I hosted 3 friends from college in my 1 bedroom castle in Boulder. It was the first time Ryan, me, and those 3 had been together since graduating from Miami, so that was fun. I have no idea who out of the 5 of us is going to get married next, but hopefully it won't be another 6 years before we find ourselves at the same place/time again. The weather for the wedding was very pleasant, the setting was perfect, and overall the day went great. I gave my second Best Man speech (which went well) and had a really good time catching up with everybody. I'm sure Ryan will have more photos and details on his blog soon, so I'll let him tell the whole story there...

The next weekend I decided that after spending the last 6 weekends out of Boulder, I would stay in town. I did nothing (well, caught up a lot of stuff around the house...), and it too was wonderful. Sometimes you just gotta rest.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

sense of place and the affects on the individual

At Miami my Thematic Sequence was about conservation. In the last class our final project was to write a paper or create a project about Sense of Place. I really didn't understand the goal of the project until I was almost finished with mine, and could do a far better job now... 6 years later. (Have I really been out of school for 6 years? Yikes.) As I drove home from Denver a few nights ago I was struck with a bizarre yet interesting (to me, at least) realization that a lot of music (American or otherwise) reveals with amazing accuracy a person's sense of place. Hopefully this doesn't sound arrogant, but I really feel like I could describe a songwriter's relationship with their local geography, even if I'd never heard the song, with pretty good accuracy. It is actually a common theme that an artist conveys their surroundings more than they might realize? Or is it intentional? Maybe it's a reflection that as a musician you express what you know/see/feel best. I guess that makes sense; unless you were hoping to make a very specific statement that was the opposite of what you were surrounded by, that's exactly what you would do. A few examples are probably needed here.
  • Listen to any (ANY) Lynyrd Skynyrd song. You can practically smell the bayou, the whiskey and crawfish,
  • It is impossible to separate the Red Hot Chili Peppers from California. I can almost feel the Pacific and the southern California sun beating down on my face.
  • Grab your nearest Andean pan flute album and tell me you can't feel the damp clouds rolling in over the lush mountain valleys. (Liar!)
  • What does the Jamaican state of mind sound like? Queue up the Bob Marley album of choice.
This made me think about what else reflects that we, to a certain degree, are a product of our surroundings. Vocabulary and hobbies are a few examples. I wonder what interests would occupy my free time if I didn't live in Boulder or hadn't been exposed to the Rockies at an early enough age to pine for their bounty. If I grew up on the Pacific coast, for example, would I have an interest in sea kayaking but care less about skiing? If I grew up in Australia would I have a passion for scuba and detest winter?

Sunday, April 12, 2009

late season resort powder!!!

A few weeks ago Colorado had a really nice system come through that dropped good late season snow across the whole state.  Since I felt like I hadn't had a really sick powder day this season, I watched the forecast and kept an eye on the storm until I decided Thursday was the day to head up to the hills.  I called off work and went to Breck for what was largely considered to be the best day of the season there.  It was one of those days where the lightly falling snow muffled every sound except the euphoric involuntary screaming of [Wahoo! / Yeeeahhh! / Sick!], heard in the distance ...which you found yourself repeating after you got off the T-Bar and dropping in to discover it was so deep you couldn't see your skis, boots, or even knees at times (... followed up with Matthew McConaughey's high pitched stoned giggle a la Dazed And Confused...).  Spring skiing felt really good.  Here's a little story / lesson learned though:

Before one of my laps on Boundary Chutes (untracked trees, steep but so deep you hardly need to turn to maintain safe speed) I'm on the cat track and this guy comes down from George's Thumb bowl talking about how he might have been dreaming, but could swear it was up to his waist at one point.  His wife confirms.  I think to myself, (a) that's ridiculous, they have to be messing with me, or (b) waist deep would be the most erotic snow experience of my life, so what if they're telling the truth?  I decide to call an audible and check it out.  When I get back to the top of the T-Bar, I cut over and take the Imperial lift to the top.  It wasn't too windy, but blowing over the ridge into George's Thumb bowl.  I start to believe the wind could actually make waist deep a reality.  When I got to the other side of the ridge, the wind changed directions.  I was overtaken by what I believe was the hardest gust of wind I've ever experienced.  I stopped when the next pole marking my cat track disappeared into the whiteout, probably only 20 feet away.  After about 30 seconds, which felt like an eternity, even with wearing a neck/nose gaitor, the windward side of my face was completely numb.  I buried my face in my armpit - only to expose an unzipped pocket that I later discovered was unzipped and had a baseball sized ball of snow in it from this 30 seconds... I had a mini-panic attack thinking that the wind was not going to stop so I had to get back to the trees but I couldn't see to get down safely.  I literally could not see past my skis in the whiteout but I decided to just go for it and drop in where I was.. and nearly took a fall into a 10 ft natural quarter pipe (the wind eventually let up).  Once I did get my bearings I made it down just fine, discovering that it indeed was deeper, but not quite waist deep.  That's just silly (although I did share the T-Bar with a girl who told me her little sister was over her belly button in Blue Sky the day before, and she seemed to be telling the truth).  Lesson learned: the grass is not always greener.  After that I had windburn so bad that the right side of my face actually peeled like a sunburn.  Crazy.

I couldn't get up to the mountains in the weekend after Thursday, but was able to head up the following weekend.  On the 4th Ryan and I headed to Salida on Friday night to use our free day at Monarch (thanks Gems card!).  It had been snowing by the foot in the Sawatch range all week, and I had heard good things about Monarch, so I was very excited.  Monarch did NOT disappoint.  When we woke up on Saturday they were reporting 6" of fresh overnight, so we hurried up to get as many fresh tracks as possible.  Holy cow.  Even the main runs were fairly untracked.   After several laps with Ryan, I headed off to the hike-to terrain to see what kind of trouble I could get into.  After about 10 minutes of hiking I was simply too excited and just dropped into what I could see hadn't really been touched.  It was like sand dune fresh powder up to the knees.  I was beside myself!  I had to stop to take some pictures to remember it.  Ex:

IMG_2035

After my first lap through this goodness I skied back over to Ryan to give him a chance to enjoy the powder.  The long story short there is that one day in the future he will look back on the experience with excitement... but that might be a while.  I think next time when it's that deep he'll bring his skies instead of snowboard.  Ahh well.  The whole Monarch set can be found at http://www.flickr.com/photos/brett_burch/sets/72157616676291062.  

The next day I went up to Eldora after hearing how good the snow was up there in the glades.  I skied with a friend from my Avy 1 class, and was not disappointed yet again.  I had heard about how terribly icy the skiing at Eldora usually is, but that was definitely not a problem after a foot of fresh snow.  We were able to find some decent stashes in the glades even a few days after the storm.  Note to self: check out Bryan Gully at the bottom of Bryan Glades again... that was the first time this season I had skied two days in a row, so I was tired on Monday, but it was really worth it.  

This season is finishing on a really good note.  I'm going to be climbing the next 3 Saturdays, but if I can myself out for some more skiing in May or June, I'll be really happy with how this season finished.