BrianMolly.com

AT - Great Smoky Mtn National Park

noreply@blogger.com (Brian Lawrence) — Sat, 25 Oct 2008 18:27:00 +0000

AT - Great Smoky Mtn National Park

noreply@blogger.com (Brian Lawrence) — Tue, 29 Jul 2008 19:09:00 +0000

Skeptical, but willing to try it. This summed up our pre-trip thinking on the 75 mile section of the Appalachian Trail through Great Smoky Mountain National Park we were about to hike in four days. What would we think of our hike through the “long, green tunnel”? How would the rodent-infested shelters be? And what would be the primary differences between the AT and the JMT?

Regardless of the answers to our questions, Brian was chomping at the bit to do some more hiking and backpacking after our great summer excursion. So, we dehydrated some dinners, bought a new ¾ length ultralight Thermarest, and laid out our equipment for the hike. Having planned to do the trip over my fall break, we realized we might need to adjust our plans when it snowed in the mountains the day before we were planning to leave. Additionally, the leaves had not even begun to change, an extremely unusual phenomenon in early November. So, we waited until the next weekend and left Athens for the hills of North Carolina at 5:00 a.m. on Friday. After about three hours of driving we arrived at Big Creek Ranger Station, the ending point of our upcoming hike, and waited for the Hike Inn shuttle driver, Jeff, to arrive and chauffeur us to Fontana Dam.

We were highly impressed with the service provided by Jeff. Not only did he drive like we were wealthy patrons attending a high-end affair, but he did some serious educating as we drove. “Wild hogs? 415-500 pounds?,” Brian and I asked. “Yes, ma’am,” explained Jeff. He even had pictures of some of the beasts. “And don’t hike at night,” he was quick to inform us, “because if you scare up the hogs, you’ll regret it.” After 2 hours of stories and pleasantries, Jeff’s wife, Nancy, replaced him as driver and drove us the remaining few miles to Fontana Dam. Both Jeff and Nancy were very kind, professional, and service-oriented. We would highly recommend their shuttle service or hotel to any hiker (The Hike Inn).

We began hiking at the dam around 11:00 a.m. With 16 miles to our first stop at Spence Field Shelter, we filled our water bottles and headed off down the trail. The trees that lined the road after crossing the dam radiated with all colors imaginable. It was almost as if God had spilled random buckets of the most brilliantly colored fall paint and it had rained down on these trees. My favorite leaves were some of the maple leaves; one tree was entirely green except for about 15-20 of the leaves, which looked like their tips had been dipped in roasted-red pepper paint. Quite an inspiring start to the trip.

Not only was the surrounding beauty motivating, but the trail was almost like a freeway. We ran into few rocks the first day and the climbs were gradual allowing us to ascend at a good clip. Although we made good time the first day, we had a lot of miles to cover before dark, which set in at about 6 p.m., so we stopped only periodically and for short intervals. Along the trail we ran across a rafter (a word specifically referring to a large group of turkeys) of ten or fifteen turkeys. They scurried across the path; we stopped and enjoyed the parade. Surprisingly, we only ran into one hiker the entire first day. And when we finally arrived at Spence Field Shelter (at 6 o’clock on the nose), there was not another soul around. This was a bit surprising as the shelter supposedly only had one free spot when we called to make reservations. Apparently many hikers cancelled at the last minute or changed plans. Regardless, we settled in for the night.

One of the most interesting aspects of camping in the late fall is the lack of daylight. Normally in the summer we would arrive at camp around 7:30 and have a few hours before darkness set in. Not in the fall. Each night, we arrived at the shelters as the last of the sun’s rays were slipping from the sky. This made for an extremely long evening. Although it took a few hours to make dinner, get water, and prepare for the upcoming day, we were still in bed by about 8:00 or 8:30 every night. I found myself waking up wondering when in the world it was going to get light; the darkness seemed interminable at times.

Back to the first night. When we arrived, we needed to find the water source. Some of the previous shelters we had passed had dry water sources or sources that had been demolished by horses that had been tied too close to the source and had stepped on the pipe. So, we were hopeful that this source would still be in good condition. It was. But what a change from the water out west! The water trickled from a pipe sticking out of the ground and a small puddle, about 2 feet by 1 foot, was beneath the pipe. Filtering, in the traditional sense, would have been impossible, so we put our cook pot under the trickle, waited for it to fill up, and filtered out of our pot. This worked quite well and we were able to obtain sufficient water. After filtering our water and cooking dinner, we headed off to bed. Throughout the night, we heard scurrying in the tarp hanging in the front of the shelter. Perhaps mice were delivering nesting materials throughout the night. Regardless, it was strange to hear the pitter patter of little feet; we never did see any of these critters, however.

Video Example

noreply@blogger.com (Brian Lawrence) — Tue, 29 Jul 2008 01:25:00 +0000

Mt. Garibaldi Climb

noreply@blogger.com (Molly Lawrence) — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 05:04:00 +0000

July 18-19, 2008

After a fairly sleepless night at the Squamish Climber's Campground on Thursday, we headed to the Elfin Lakes Trailhead ready to hit the trail and find some serenity. Johnathan, Rudy, Keith, Brian and I set off around 10 a.m. and enjoyed the fairly mellow 11km hike to the Elfin Lakes Shelter. Keith's knee was bothering him and he decided to remain at the shelter as we set off around 1:30 p.m. for the Bivouac site below Atwell Peak. We were a bit disappointed with the fairly dense cloud cover as it made it impossible to scout out our route. Upon returning the following day, we realized how much easier navigation would have been if we had seen this view from the shelter on Friday.

The trail to Mamquam Lakes had large sections that were free of snow and descended approximately 1000' to Ring Creek. As we neared the creek we discovered why the Mamquam Lakes trail was closed: a huge section of the slope had eroded away (probably due to rain) and the trail was nonexistent down a very steep, loose section with rock and dirt. Rudy, Johnathan, & Brian quickly descended; I was much slower. We all made it safely down to the creek and after searching for a stream crossing for a few minutes, found a way across that was extremely easy. Still unable to see our route, we crossed a boulder field and ascended a moderately steep snowfield. The texture of the snow was quite unique in places. Initially we interpreted this texture as evidence of a past avalanche. However, after more careful observation we realized the snow's consistency was blue and chunky due to the large creek rushing underneath the snow. Needless to say we tried to stay off of that snow when possible.After climbing for a while we gained a higher snowfield directly below the Diamond Glacier and stumbled across a herd of 26 mountain goats with many young. We wondered how these large mammals could survive so well in the harsh conditions up high? After a bit more climbing and walking around various rock fall zones, we scrambled over a loose, dirty ridge where we camped for the night. Mt. Garibaldi was still invisible. However, the evening became progressively nicer. We had high hopes for the following morning.

Johnathan was pooped when he got to camp and went to bed immediately, even without eating dinner. Rudy, Brian and I cooked and filtered water for the following day and enjoyed the clearing skies. The full moon was gorgeous that evening as it rose above the peaks that had just become visible after dark as the clouds sunk below their summits and below our campsite.

The following morning we woke up to a beautiful day and set off around 5:30 a.m.

The initial portion of our climb was up a very steep, icy slope (greater than 45 degrees). Without ropes, I felt the need to climb very carefully, which meant I climbed much slower than the men in the group. However, we all reached the section of the climb before the crevasse safely and roped up. From there, we made good time up to the more gradual section before the final steep pitch to gain the summit plateau. This steeper portion included a short traverse along a snow ridge that dropped off onto the base of a cliff on one side and down a steep slope and into a crevasse on the other. Needless to say we couldn't fall.

Upon reaching the summit pyramid, we were disappointed to realize Mt. Garibaldi was as chossy as indicated in the route description. We spent a few minutes trying to identify the best way up. Ultimately, Rudy led us up choss pile dome (as Johnathan renamed it), slinging rocks when possible. We simulclimbed to the top and enjoyed the windless, warm summit for a few minutes before scouting out a manky rappel station. While waiting to rappel, Brian and I marveled at the vertical glaciers on the peak just west of Garibaldi. When it was our turn to rappel, we focused on rappelling smoothly and quickly. We've never wanted to get off of a rappel rope as fast as we did that one - even though the boulder seemed solid, the entire mountain seemed loose and crappy, which made us doubt whether or not our rappel boulder was solid as well.

We made excellent time on the descent as we had lots of soft snow for glissading and plunge steeping. We high tailed it back to the car and arrived around 4:30 p.m. We enjoyed a tasty dinner at Yianni's Taverna (Greek food) in Squamish before heading back to Bellingham. Our feet were all dead, sore, and blistered and I think Keith's wife was worried about us as we limped to get Keith's gear out of the car. Great times - new adventures - great group!

Squamish, BC: Climb - Hike - Climb

noreply@blogger.com (Brian Lawrence) — Sat, 08 Sep 2007 04:40:00 +0000

World class climbing? Bring it on! Brian and I were thrilled to read the article in Climbing magazine describing the amazing climbing and world-class rock in Squamish, BC, located only 100 miles from Bellingham! After our sailing trip we decided to head up to check out British Columbia for a few days. While there we explored Cheakamus Canyon, which had quite a few good sport routes, and the Bulletheads, which is a smaller portion of the well known Stawamus Chief wall that demands one's attention. Cheakamus was fun but the routes weren't as long as those in the Owens Valley Gorge and many of them were too difficult for us. The route we did on the Bulletheads was two pitches and was very slabby. It took us almost 2 hours to actually find the climb as the trails in the area were a network of goat paths that were difficult to discern from one another and shot straight up the mountain. We almost felt we needed rope protection while hiking up to the climb. I (Molly) led the slabby route…SCARY!!! I felt like Spiderman for much of the climb as the granite was virtually featureless requiring me to trust my feet on tiny crystals and minimal texture. The view from the top was incredible, though!! Our general take? Squamish would be awesome if we climbed harder grades and if we climbed trad routes. Until we do, the Owens Valley Gorge is still the best we've seen.
For a rest on the middle day we did a day hike up to Garibaldi Lake and then beyond the lake to Black Tusk! We saw thousands of mushrooms, a black bear eating berries, and thousands of wildflowers and incredible, jagged, glacial peaks. Because the views were so grand we made a long day of it, hiking approximately 16+ miles. Not much of a rest day, but the grandeur was worth it!

Sailing the San Juans (Learn-N-Cruise)

noreply@blogger.com (Brian Lawrence) — Sat, 01 Sep 2007 04:59:00 +0000

Sailing for a week in the San Juans? A week in the San Juans sounded like fun. I (Molly) wasn't sure about the sailing part of it though. Brian was so smitten with the idea, however, that I decided I must at least try it with an open mind. I'm glad I did as we had a wonderful time learning the intricacies of sailing and earning a certificate that makes it possible for us to charter sailboats anywhere in the world. Studying the anatomy of a sailboat was rather tedious especially after finishing my dissertation only a few weeks earlier. Fortunately, Brian helped me sludge through learning the vocabulary which allowed us to enjoy the trip as more of a vacation and less of a school-like experience.

We began our journey at San Juan Sailing in the Squalicum Marina (Bellingham, WA – our new home town!!). It was drizzly, cool, and fairly windy – not the most appealing weather for an impending sailing trip. After taking our initial test, unpacking our groceries and gear in the 35' sailboat that would be our home for the coming week, and meeting our instructor Andy and our fellow classmates, Ryan and Emily, we headed out into the bay for some sailing. We had great wind the first day, but once it began raining, the wind died down. Fog set in and we motored the rest of the way to Pleasant Bay, where we anchored for the night. Pleasant Bay was quiet and just a few miles south of Bellingham in front of the Chuckanut Mountains. The wind rattled our rigging most of the night and we frequently woke up to the noise of rope slapping wire rigging. This sound reverberated through the boat and was amplified in the process. What sounded like nothing at all when standing on the deck in the morning sounded like sleeping inside a beating drum from the interior of the boat.

The following morning we set out for Lopez Island hoping to find a mooring buoy at Spencer Spit State Park. The weather improved significantly for our second day. Despite the improved conditions, we all dressed in layered long, windproof clothing as the wind moving across the water was downright chilly. We saw two oil tankers (we think) while passing Anacortes. They were huge and much wider than we had imagined. We also encountered the force of currents during full moon tidal swings on our second day out. It was incredible to witness how the water moved through large straights. Eddies and rivers of water seemed to fight with one another. Although it felt like the boat was moving significantly while on board, we came to realize the importance of observing one's position relative to land. In doing so, we discovered we were barely making headway under sail. Once we finally got past the unidirectional current and entered a more open body of water the sailing conditions improved dramatically and we enjoyed tacking, jibing, and experimenting with various points of sail before heading in to Spencer Spit for the night. Upon arriving at the Spit we decided to row the dinghy to shore to explore the spit (narrow strip of land) for a while. The spit was incredible with driftwood strewn all over it like toothpicks scattered by a giant's sneeze. We also saw various dead crabs, jellyfish, and vegetation. As is often the case on beaches in the PNW (Pacific Northwest), there was very little, if any, sand. Instead, the beach was covered with pebbles of various colors and composition, smoothed by a life in the intertidal zone. On the way back I volunteered to row. Considering how hungry we were I think this was a mistake. Rowing is more challenging than I thought it would be – especially with 5 people and lots of waves. Eventually I made forward progress despite feeling like a beginning skier with oars going every which way. That night was fairly wavy. In part this seemed a product of the ferries that regularly passed Frost Island, which was located about ½ mile from where we were moored.

The following morning we were introduced to the harbor seals' morning ritual: turning a somersault in the water near the surface and slapping their tail on the water very loudly after each rotation. We observed this behavior in various locations and it always happened early in the morning. What a way to start the day! It was amazing how loudly their tails slapped the water.

After Lopez Island and Spencer Spit we headed to Friday Harbor to take showers, empty the holding tank and eat out. The Straight of Juan de Fuca had swells that were significantly larger than we'd seen in the more sheltered areas we had explored in the first few days. It was beautiful, though, and felt wide open. We arrived at Friday Harbor earlier than we had arrived at our first two locations and enjoyed taking showers with quarters in the marina. It's great how trips like this encourage you to appreciate the little things in life that we so often take for granted. In addition to showering, Brian and I bought ice cream before and after dinner and took a walk around town. Friday Harbor was more quaint than I had expected (considering the number of ferries that deliver visitors and residents to the islands each day). During dinner I was surprised to see a grocery semi truck drive onto the ferry. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised about this. How else would islanders get their groceries? However, I hadn't realized ferries would or could take such heavy vehicles aboard. In the morning we had our holding tank emptied by Pumpty Dumpty – the marina's lone poop pumper. Again, we were reminded of the little things in life and how we are so accustomed to not thinking about them and taking the conveniences of modern life for granted. I bet the Pumpty Dumpty employees think differently about each flush than most people.

After a great evening at Friday Harbor we took off for Stuart Island, heading South towards the Straight of Juan de Fuca. Fighting the currents coming out into the Straight was an incredible experience. It took us 90 minutes to travel approximately 400 yards!! Later during the trip we met someone with a smaller sailboat (and a less powerful motor). He had tried going against similar currents and had been unable to make progress. Ultimately, the currents pushed him back into the open water from which he had come and he had to change course. While we were struggling to get around Cattle Point on San Juan Island we saw a sea lion. Initially we thought it was a harbor seal, as they had become one of the icons of our trip as we saw them everywhere. However, after the sea lion raised his head out of the water we realized he was MUCH too large to be a seal. Swimming near the surface, the sea lion's body stretched almost 10 feet long and looked a force to be reckoned with.

Once we had cleared Cattle Point, we found ourselves in an extremely calm Straight of Juan de Fuca. The day was clear allowing us to see Mt. Baker, Mt. Rainier, and grand views of the Olympic Peninsula and Mt. Olympus. Although we raised the sails for a bit, we motored most of the way to Stuart Island. Upon arriving and anchoring we took the dinghy to shore for a beautiful walk past an old school house, which formerly had about 10 students in attendance. The school had closed a few years ago. We also passed a private airstrip on our way to the lighthouse across the island. The airstrip was much more primitive than I imagined possible for landing a plane and caused me to picture myself someplace in Africa or Central America. It was no more than a gently slopped, fairly level grassy field. The plane that was parked near the airstrip was a two-seater that looked 20 years old. Despite the outdated aeronautical technology, the view from the airstrip was incredible: Mt. Baker peered over a traditional red farmhouse backed by the water and surrounded by a few trees and some grazing cattle. Based on the houses we saw (which were few and far between) life on Stuart seemed much less American than San Juan or Orcas islands. Remnants of simpler times seemed to characterize Stuart. The view from the lighthouse on the opposite side of the island was well worth the walk: the conglomerate cliffs as well as the sunlit water with islands in the background were stunning. Brian and I cooked dinner when we returned to the boat.

Molly and Andy (our instructor)
The following morning we practiced anchoring and mooring. In addition we pumped out our holding tank by hand (rather than having Pumpty Dumpty workers come to our boat and pump us out). This time there was a floating dock for pumping out holding tanks. The pilings to which the dock was attached were completely covered in huge sea anemones. These organisms had also been abundant in the Friday Harbor marina. Hmmm. We concluded that sea anemones had interesting diets in light of the location of their densely populated communities. After leaving the bay, we sailed a bit in the Straight of Juan de Fuca before motoring to Jones Island for the night. The winds were rather calm and sailing only lasted a few minutes. While attempting to sail, however, we did see a very curious barge – much different than those we were familiar with from the Mississippi River. These barges were composed of two parts: a tug boat pulling a huge, floating metal container. The tug was approximately 100 yards from the load it was pulling. We were curious what the tan colored heaping pile in the floating container was. Through the binoculars it appeared to be wood chips.

Sun setting on Jones Island
Once we arrived at Jones Island we again took the dinghy to shore for a great walk. Jones was a tiny island, designated as a state park. It felt freeing to arrive someplace where one could not arrive by car or ferry, although many arrived by very large powerboat. The pebbly beaches were what stood out to me about Jones. In addition, a huge windstorm had taken out many of the trees on Jones in 1990, most of which were still visible and fairly intact. I collected many smooth, colorful rocks both that evening and the following morning when Brian and I went to shore alone. Looking out into the less protected open water beyond the bay we realized it was very windy. We spent much of the morning playing in the wind and even had to reef in the sails because the wind was so strong. Around 1:00 our instructor gave us the 3rd test while we motored towards Sucia Island, our final stop along the trip. Upon finishing our tests, we ventured out into the windy and wavy Straight of Georgia for some final sailing before heading into Sucia. We attached ourselves to the mooring system in the unsheltered Echo Bay. We wondered why all the other boats had decided to anchor as opposed to using the mooring system but discovered an answer for ourselves that evening. Because we were held fairly still by the mooring system, the waves bounced loudly off the stern of the boat. We joked with Emily and Ryan that their berth sounded like being inside a guitar or inside a stomach that was digesting something. We didn't make it to land that evening since we arrived so late, but got up early in the morning to walk around Sucia a bit. We felt rude turning on our motor on the dinghy so early and feared we were waking everyone else up. However, the harbor seals were already turning somersaults and slapping the water with their tails prior to turning on the motor which made us feel a little better. Sucia's geology was fascinating. There was a large amount of sandstone that had been beautifully weathered into caves, little pockets, and smooth bulges. We had relatively little time to explore that morning, but we would definitely like to return. When we got back to the boat Emily and Ryan checked the crab trap they had set and we found 2 Dungeness crabs, one male and one female (we couldn't identify which was which). We examined them closely for a while before throwing them back. After eating a leftover style breakfast we motored back to Bellingham Bay. It was damp, cool, and windy just like the day we began. Once in the bay, we put up our sails for a bit, but the wind was fairly calm and we ended up bringing them down fairly quickly.

We had a wonderful time and immensely enjoyed exploring a tiny bit of what the San Juans and sailing have to offer.

Artist Point Picinic

noreply@blogger.com (Brian Lawrence) — Sat, 25 Aug 2007 06:21:00 +0000

Bellingham, WA
24 August, 2007

Moving to Bellingham, WA has been everything we hoped it would be and more. One perk is the easy access to high alpine territory. One of my new colleagues at WWU took Brian and I to the incredible vista called Artist's Point located about 80-90 minutes from Bellingham. The name is self-explanatory. As we drove the switchbacking road up to Artist's Point (yes, you can drive there), the hairpin turns gave way to an incredible view of the elusive Mount Baker, which was engulfed in clouds, and its brother to the east, Mount Shuksan. These glacial giants soared above the heather and evergreen foreground, beckoning the bystander to venture into their surrounding wilderness. This particular visit we had a picnic lunch before exploring the short loop trail at Artist's Point. We'll definitely return to explore the Baker wilderness area and appreciated the opportunity to preview what it has to offer.

Moved WEST!!

noreply@blogger.com (Molly Lawrence) — Tue, 07 Aug 2007 21:00:00 +0000

Athens, GA to Bellingham, WA
2-7 August, 2007

It still seems strange that we've moved from Athens. When we looked at pictures of our house the other day we realized we didn't own it anymore. Very weird. Moving was a surprisingly smooth endeavor. The worst part was packing the truck in the sweltering, humid heat of early August in GA. Fortunately we didn't talk ourselves out of the 26' truck, which allowed us the extra space we needed as amateur packers. We had a nice time chatting with our neighbors Jess, Karen, and Glen one last time before we headed out with the plants filling the back seat of the car and with the huge moving truck and Brian's truck in tow. It was very helpful to have Ron, Brian's dad, join us, both for his company and for his ability to drive when we were tired.

Perhaps the most eye opening part of the trip was driving the car behind a moving truck that accelerated much more slowly than the car can. We got incredibly high gas mileage (from 36-40 mpg) in the Accord, which typically consumes about 30 mpg on the interstate. Granted it was frustrating driving up mountains at 40 mph, but it did save gas. It was also interesting driving such a large vehicle. I have a new appreciation for semi drivers. Being passed by a semi when you fill almost the entire lane is much different than passing a semi as a car. Some of the most eventful parts of the trip included a stop at my parents' house, the Corn Palace in Mitchell, SD, the thousands of bikers we passed and encountered along I-90 most of whom were headed to the Sturgis Bike Rally, the Badlands, Mount Rushmore, and the signs for the Testicle Festival in Montana. I still have questions about what goes on at that festival. We were also struck by the amount of corn in IL, IA, SD, and even WA. We enjoyed some incredible views of Mount Rainier on our way into Seattle.

When we arrived in Bellingham, we were disappointed to find our apartment still very dirty. Fortunately, our cleaning supplies were near the back of the moving truck. After scouring for an entire evening, we began moving our stuff into the apartment, which has 2 flights of stairs leading to the entry level. Our neighbor explained that she now had calves like a sherpa after moving in. We were grateful the railing was not yet installed on the newly redone steps as it made maneuvering heavy furniture much easier. It will be interesting to see how we fare when we move out as the rails have now been added. After arranging most of the house, we spent the rest of the summer playing. Brian has tirelessly finished the final touches while I've been at work.