Self-arrest lessons

Training for the trail has most certainly been moving forward. One major task was to practice/learn using an ice axe to self arrest and self belay. Luckily my husband has mountaineering training and experience-his tutorials are fantastic.  All I wanted for Christmas this year was a trusty Black Diamond Raven Pro Ice Axe, and that is what I got-my first real tool. Have to say, with my record of cutting myself with sharp objects, I've been a bit apprehensive about thrusting my body weight onto something so close to the major arteries in my neck. But with safety precautions, body awareness, and practice, I feel more empowered to have those reflexes available should the time come, i.e. I'm sliding down an icy mountain slope.

Last weekend Jacob and I drove up near Sonora Pass, to the snow, found a snow covered hill, and made a snow run. Guess my Minnesota roots came out-makes me want to get into more snow/winter activities.....

The following is what I learned from that lesson:

How to use an Ice Axe:

A Basic Ice Axe is a traditional, and essential safety tool used in mountaineering. Not to be confused with a Technical Ice Axe, or Ice Tool, a Basic Ice Axe serves as a balance and safety device while ascending or descending steep icy or snowy slopes. This wicked-awesome tool can be life-saving, for self-arrest in an unexpected run in with gravity, to carve steps, and as a self belay in the form of a retrievable snow anchor when you need to rappel down a pitch but don't have a better natural feature to tie onto. Learning to use an Ice Axe is an exciting and necessary skill for anyone interested in winter hiking and mountaineering, and will be helpful for us if/when we run into snow on the PCT.

The main components of an ice axe are

• The Adze: this is the wide, flat end of the head used for chopping steps in hard snow or ice.
• The Pick: this is the toothed, pointed end of the head, slightly curved, and the part that is shoved into the snow or ice during self arrest.
• The Head: comprised of the adze and the the pick.
• The Shaft: shaft length and configuration depend on climbing style, strength, size, and type of climbing. Back in the day, shafts were made of wood; but the one I will be depending on is made of aluminum-alloy; very lightweight-one of our major considerations for our thru-hike.
• The Spike: a steel point at the base of the shaft for balance and safety when the axe is held by it's head as if it were a walking stick. 

How to use a basic Ice Axe:

How to Self-Arrest

• With your side to the slope, you should be grabbing the ice axe with your slope facing hand at the head with the adze facing forward. The thumb is under the adze and your palm and fingers are around the pick. If you slip grab the end of the shaft above the spike with your other hand. 
• The pick should be pressed just above the shoulder, so the adze is near the angle formed by the neck and shoulder. *It's crucial to have a guard over the adze*
• The shaft crosses the chest diagonally and is held close to the hip. *gripping the end of the shaft in this way prevents the hand from acting as a pivot from which the spike can swing around and strike the thigh.*
• Chest and shoulder are pressed strongly down on ice axe shaft. It is the body weight falling on the axe which leads to a successful self-arrest. 
• Head should be facing down, so the shoulders and chest keep the body weight over the adze. 
• The spine should be arched slightly away from the snow. This arch is critical in body weight distribution, which puts most of the weight on the adze head, and the toes; which are the points that dig into the snow and force a stop. Pull up on the end of the shaft to further this weight distribution.
• Some say the knees should be digging into the snow, and if crampons are used, this is true. But in our case, we won't be using crampons, and the possibilities of going over rocks or cutting ice edges, the feet would be better for that contact than the knees. 
• Legs are stiff and spread apart with the toes digging in.  

Because there are various ways of falling down a mountain, it's important to practice the various different scenarios. The four likely scenarios are feet first on stomach, feet first on back, head first on stomach, and head first on back. The immediate objective in all cases is to get your body positioned in the only effective self-arrest position: feet first on stomach. 

Feet first on stomach

This is self-arrest position, so just get the body over the axe shaft and end in final position described previously

Feet first on back

Roll toward the head of the axe and aggressively shove the pick into the snow at your side near your hip as you roll onto your stomach. If axe head is on the right, roll to the right. If left, roll to the left. Careful not to roll to the opposite side as this could shove the spike in the snow and cause loss of control of the axe. 

Head first on stomach

Feet need to be swung downhill. Reach axe downhill and off to the axe head side, (if the head was in your right hand, this would be to the right above the head, and shove the pick into the snow to act as a pivot, to rotate your body so your feet are first downhill. Continue with above described self arrest position.

Head first on back

Hold axe across torso and shove the pick into the snow, then twist and roll toward it, the pick again acts as a pivot. Work your chest toward the axe head, and your feet so they are facing down hill. A sitting position helps this. 

And practice, practice, practice. Self-arrest is a last-ditch effort-few actually have to use it, and the hope/prayer is that you don't. But it is empowering to learn. Safety first, get proper instruction, and go with someone who knows what they are doing. 

Nomnom COokies!!!!

While ice and snow blanket the midwest and the eastern part of our country, Egypt continues to stand in the light of the world's news services; and February begins, reminding me of my neglect in contributing into the blogosphere. Thanks to Ling for reminding me to just start writing. Training for the upcoming 2700 mile jaunt on the PCT proceeds, and Jacob and I continue to plan for our inevitable uprooting. April 19th hasn't felt so near. As I've been a bit MIA for the start of 2011, I'll begin with an awesome chocolate chip cookie recipe. A non-vegan friend gave her stamp of approval-so perhaps a future business endeavor is in the works?

Ingredients for an awesome vegan chocolate chip cookie worthy of the cookie monster himself:

1 cup vegan margarine
1 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup molasses
2 tsp vanilla
2 1/4 cups all-purpose baking flour, or almond flour for a gluten free cookie
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
1 1/2 cup vegan chocolate chips
1/2 cup pecans or walnuts (I used pecans cause Ling made them available:)
3 tsp egg substitute
4 Tbs warm water
1/2 tsp cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F

Combine egg replacer, warm water, sugar +molasses, vanilla, and margarine (at room temp) and mix into a creamy paste
In separate bowl combine dry ingredients. Pour wet into dry and add chocolate chips and nuts. The dough will feel a bit crumbly, but use your hands to work it into small balls and put on a non-stick cookie sheet. Bake for 10-12 min. The cookies won't spread out, and may be hard to tell that they're done, but if you stick a fork into a chocolate chip and its melted, they're fairly well done. Let cool-unless you're like me and can't wait and burn the shit out of your tongue because you're too excited, and go at it like the cookie monster!!!!

Language

Val and I walking through a village in the Usambara Mountains circa 2008, Tanzania

"After all, when you come right down to it, how many people speak the same language even when they speak the same language?" -Roland Barthes

I ease our red toyota pick-up into a spot on the busy street, I steal a glance at the bay in front as I get out of the red engine that could, and walk toward the corner of Webster and Central Ave in Alameda, where these past friends and I agreed to meet. I'm giddy, with butterfly's brushing against my insides, excited to catch up on the news of Tanzania, eager to let down my barriers, relieved that I won't have to keep this mask I have on-the mask that says to the world I am "adjusted", "integrated", a part of this social fabric, here in the U.S. 

I hug them both, and we walk, all three with a bounce in our step, towards a cafe where we can sit and let the conversation pour. After ordering teas, we sit, sprawl actually, all three of us on this small two-person couch, so close, like we are traveling on a daladala, comforted by the closeness, comforted by the lack of personal bubbles, intruding, welcoming, in each other's space. 

Across from us is a series of images on the wall, pictures of distant places, dark skinned men and women on beaches, in streets with bustling commotion, chaotic markets, and we talk, freely, hopping from one topic to another with that emotive urgency that friends have when they reunite.

 One image is of green chairs and tables on an ordinary sidewalk, and Kate says,

"That could be anywhere."

Yeah, anywhere, we could be anywhere.  

Kristen is a month back after a three-year tour in the Peace Corps in Tanzania. She talks about the end of her service, about leaving her site, saying goodbye to students, colleagues, friends and what became family, and how she justified her uprooting to these neighbors by telling them she was going back to America to get a Masters in Chemistry. 

I ask if this is true.

"No, but it seemed like the best way to explain why I was leaving."  

We talk about other volunteers, who's doing what, where they are, how they are "adjusting", so-and-so hates this grad program they got into, but doesn't know what to do, so-in-so is in law school and continuing on their already planned path, happy to be back. 

Our words float into the air around us, hanging there, easily accessible, understandable, digestible, and it's natural. There is this bond that we have, that we will always have, and I think about how nice it is. To be able to speak a language, and have people REALLY speak the same one. I think that has been one of the hardest parts about readjusting from life in the Peace Corps, that while I have the same language as other Americans, it seems I don't always use it in a way that seems to be understandable. 

After a year being back, I'm just starting to be okay with this fact. And am learning that I don't HAVE to talk about Tanzania. But meeting up with Kate and Kristen have just unleashed all of these kept words, and it feels so freeing, like water breaking from the dam. 

And then I reflect on how important that sense of community is, how much I miss it, how I want to have it again. Peace Corps was a bond, a common thread where the language is unique, the culture is unique, and if anything, I think that's what I'll carry with me, and seek out in whatever contexts the future holds. Because language is what unites us, what connects us, and how we share our worlds, merge our paths. 

I am grateful for these people who I can speak the same language with with. 

Move Within

"Keep walking, though there's no place to get to.

Don't try to see through the distances.

That's not for human beings. Move within,

but don't move the way fear makes you move"

-Rumi

Guess I'm just in a mood for some inspiration. Last week I got a chance to spend time with good friends and family, celebrating siku ya shukurani, which was wonderful, a full reminder of how much richer life is when its shared with people you love and who love you. But Thanksgiving also elicits a need, a desire,at least in me- to reflect, and I start to think about the particular place I'm at.

I'm in a transitional state, still not rooted, and preparing myself for April, when Jacob and I will embark again-leaving for 5 months to walk those 2700 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail. Sometimes it's hard to keep a positive attitude, and it's easy to fall into that negative feed-back loop of self-doubt and criticism. 

I say, 

I'm not in a stable career.

I don't have a final destination.

I have an uncertain future looming ahead, and I still haven't figured out what sort of career would fit me. 

Thus, I spend time trying things on, going on career "dates" as I call them, seeing if there is an environment where I could really sink into. And I haven't found it. It's like a bad dating scene. Where I'm searching, and dating all these careers I don't think in the end I want, but am trying them out to see for sure what I don't want. 

And I've come to the conclusion that I just don't want a commitment right now. 

Not from a career. 

No, I don't want to be in that sort of long-term relationship with a job. 

So I do what I did when I was dating in college, and I go out with this career for oh, maybe three months, and then I move on.

Guess I'm sort of fickle right now. 

But I think of what a dear friend of mine said when we were commiserating about this very place to be, and she relayed some sound advice that I resonated with, to keep in mind in these uncertain spots, that we should change our perspective and look at these times as growth spurts, with growth pains and all. Then I think back to when I was stretching up, growing 4 inches in 2 years and how much my knees hurt.

Guess my professional self is just a little tender right now. 

And then I remember how many blessings I have, and I'm simply grateful. For my health, for an incredible life partner, for family and friends, for  butternut squash and apples, for public libraries, and cashews, for delicious coffee, and for having the ability to follow this dream of walking from Mexico to Canada. And then all the growing pains don't seem to feel as acute, and they actually disappear. 

And then I walk, and I move within. 

I don't love the treadmill

photo taken from http://www.fitsugar.com/I-HEART-TREADMILL-52963

I recently reread my journal from when I was living in Tanzania. The following entry scares me a little. 

"Americans get caught up in that hustle and bustle of everyday life. They need, want and can only live, on the treadmill.  Many have a set weekly 9 to 5 routine, performing nominal tasks with ease. They settle into a life of efficiency, work, and progress. They are routinized, rationalized beings who are specialists without spirit, sensualists without heart. People start to become creatures of habit, who are more concerned with the state of the front yard rather than the matters of the spirit. A person finds at the end of the day, they can be happy because at least they “got something done”. 

Some search for a way out of this box, where they can satisfy the common desire to get away from it all. But they always come back. 

Well, I don't want to ever go back. 

I don’t REALLY think I want my life to be an ongoing rhapsody, but to keep in touch with the sublime, is that too much to ask?"

Damn it. I came back. 

Around Us, from Jónsi’s album, "Go"

A little bit of inspiration from Iclandic folks: 

"We all want to grow with the seeds we will sow

We all want to go with the trees we will grow

We all want to know when we're all meant to 

go To a place you and I - Will call home"

I like Sigur Rós, mostly because they got away with making up their own language. 

Maybe one day my mind, and perhaps this  

blog, will abandon English altogether and 

adapt Hopelandic-communicating in only 

sighs and emotions. 

I can hope, right?

So, here's just their front-man taking off on his own. 

First heard music from this album on the slideshow that was put together by family and friends for our wedding (Thanks go to N for pushing some good music through), and it's definitely a change from my attraction to dark, and quite depressing music. 

When I listen to this song, and album, I can't help but smile.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=erJNDuhM5Lc

official cover of Jónsi's album go

Work

Work, perhaps a different definition,  in Kerenge, Tanzania

"I like what is in Work - the chance to find yourself.

Your own reality -for yourself, not for others -

what no other man can ever know.

They can only see the mere show,

and never can tell what it really means."

-joseph conrad

When I was 17, just on the cusp of going off to college, I had a very clear identity set out for myself. 

I fell into two explicitly defined categories, that were easy to communicate and convey to people when they inquired about the direction I was headed in. 

"I'm going to college to play basketball, and I'm going to study biology to become a doctor." 

I had decided that, although I wanted to play professionally, either in the US or abroad, going to medical school was a longer term investment, the impetus to a path that would be fulfilling, meaningful, purposeful and rewarding.
 Playing basketball was my passion, becoming a doctor was my dream. And I was hell bent on doing both. Funny how dreams and passions change. I still love basketball, and miss, severely, the training part of it. I miss the everyday grind. As a young kid, my schedule was so jam-packed, I never really had time to think about what it all meant. My sights were clear, and I loved what I was doing. In college, the path changed. I gave up a full scholarship, focused on school, worked in a research lab, joined the model UN, met some new people and had a more balanced existence, slowly, I started to have more time, dictated by myself. 

And I filled up those spaces, the void, with things I was interested in, like writing for the newspaper, or working at a cultural center. The dreams of playing professionally dwindled, and I was okay with it. But there was, and still is, a void, that I still try to fill. 

My dream of becoming a doctor has also dwindled, so right now, I'm sort of at this place where I've never been before. With a future that scares the shit out of me. Because I don't know what "profession" I fit into. 

As a species-humans, we try so hard, to organize ourselves and others. So much so, just as we try to organize our worlds, that one word, can carry so many connotations. I am a doctor-means so much. Not only does it tell others what we spend our time doing, it give them insight into personality, motivations, aspirations, values, choices, or a least that's what it tells them in their minds. 

But if, for instance, like right now in my life, I were to answer the question, 

"what do you do"

with avoiding the question all together by launching into a long-winded blast asking the person why it matters so much to quantify and qualify my existence and my value by what I "do",  then, of course, that person and I will be faced with the uncomfortable silence that inevitably ensues, and an attempt to avoid any further conversation by saying something like,

 "well, how about them Giants." 

I guess I'm still stumped by that identity, or ego, I suppose, in conversation. And if I were to become all hippy dippy, I would try to justify to myself, and others by taking the Zen approach, and say, happiness is only found when you have peace within yourself, regardless of outward expectations. And of course, I'd feel good about saying it, because let's face it, I am a little hippy dippy, but I can't say I'm all that Zen. 
I cling to the words, but haven't quite been able to put them into practice, if I could I'd be a much better person. 

I guess I'm still trying to find a purposeful statement of identity. 

That fits. 

That I'm comfortable with. 

Sure it's ego.

Sure its not Zen.

But it is me. 

Then I think about all the people who don't have to define "Work", and who have lives that don't allow for the luxury of such thoughts and conversations, who do work simply to live. And then I think about what a jerk I am. Middle-class suburbia, the problems of us 20-something's who came from families where we had the freedom to explore these questions. And who are now in this same place-not being forced to follow a certain path, but have too many choices, or were told we have all these choices. 

That's another topic, though....

Maybe I should look back to Conrad's definition of work, and take those words and put them in practice. 

Because if Work is, 

"the chance to find yourself-your own reality, for yourself-not for others" 

then this identity in conversation isn't really about fitting a single word; it's more about finding yourself, or reinventing yourself, or connecting with those around you. 

And maybe people bringing up the questions provides an opportunity to put everything into context, and reflect on the present, without worrying too much about the future. 

And maybe the question will lead to follow up questions. 

And the answers don't matter so much.

 I'll try to remember this the next time someone asks me "what do you do."