Backcountry Work Pictures

As promised, here are some pictures from the work trip into Bunker Creek:

A very clean culvert, complete with babbling brook.

Our facilities for the week, custom chainsaw work.

Kitchen/dining room/pantry/storage closet

Solar shower (we never took pictures of our swimming pool in Bunker Creek, but we swam in the icy water every night when we got back to camp).

Looking from the main road up the drainage toward our camp. I think the middle mountain in Tranquil Peak, and camp is at the base of it and about 4 miles away at this point. The mountain on the right might be Warrior Peak.

Home, sweet home.

Bunker Boys hard at work: Benny (left) and Shawn

A sampling of our food during the week. This is breakfast one morning: hashbrowns, bacon, and huckleberry "man"-cakes.

Working in the Backcountry

I just got out on Monday from a 6-day backcountry hitch for my job with the Forest Service. They packed in a camp complete with a wall tent, wood stove, and literally a ton of food with a pack string of mules for us to stay in. There were three of us on the trip and we all had a good time.

The work itself is a continuation of a Culvert Inventory project created 3 years ago in order to ease pressure from Environmental groups and the Fish, Wildlife, and Parks. For those of you who don't know, a culvert is a metal, plastic, or wooden pipe laid under a road surface when the road is constructed in order to drain water from one side of the road to the other without it damaging the road itself. Our crew surveys permanently closed roads (those that are still considered a part of the Forest Service road "system," but are closed to motorized vehicle access for the indefinite future) for water drainage issues and damaged or plugged culverts. Then we clean them out with hand tools, take some measurements and pictures, and then move on our merry way. Our backcountry camp in the Bunker Creek drainage of the Spotted Bear Ranger District was required because of a combination of the remoteness of the roads, their length, and the number of culverts.

We cranked hard and got the work done a day early, covering 65 odd miles on foot and on bicycle, surveying close to 15 miles of road, and cleaning nearly 50 culverts in the process. Our daily schedule consisted of waking, eating a huge breakfast, heading out to work a 8-12 hour day, coming back and jumping in the icy creek to clean up before consuming a large dinner, and then relaxing a little while reading or playing cribbage before falling into bed before it even got dark. When I get some pictures of the trip from one of my coworkers I'll post them so you can see our camp setup.

When I get some pictures

A Matter of Luck

There are an amazing number of instances that I have noticed this summer seeming to indicate that luck is a big part of our life's successes. This year's Tour de France had two that I remember now. First, Lance Armstrong was having a strong race in the early stages and even though one of the oldest racers, he was a favorite to win. However, on a day where the course traveled over some rough patches of cobblestoned-road, Armstrong crashed losing valuable time. Later in a mountain stage, he had three crashes and it seemed to me none of them were avoidable or were his fault. This ended his chances of another Tour victory. Farther along in the race, Andy Schleck was poised to make an attack to gain time on rival riders when his chain slipped off his gears. The Tour winner Alberto Contador took advantage of the mishap and finished that stage in the lead. Had his chain not slipped, I feel as though Schleck would have won.

Earlier in July, I was personally in a race where two soloists lost their place in the lead when they got a flat tire in the road biking section or broke the chain on their mountain bike. The winner of the race was very deserving and his achievement should not be shaded in any way, however it was on the tails of misfortune that he came out on top.

I've been preparing very hard this summer for the upcoming hunting season this Fall. It has been sad to not be able to hunt in at home the past several years while going to school in Abilene. My parents bought me a bow for graduation and I've been becoming more and more accurate as the months have passed, increasing my chances of killing an elk since bow season happens during their rut, when the bulls are bugling and looking to build their harem of cows. In the 9 years or so that I've been old enough to hunt, I have never killed an elk. Yet there are people that kill a bull every year. Somehow it doesn't seem fair, maybe some people have more luck than I do.

Reflecting on these three examples, I realize that there is an inevitable amount of chance in everything we do. Tires get punctured, the wind blows arrows askew, etc. If you do something long enough, I can almost guarantee that luck will seem to be with us sometimes and fighting for our opponents at others. What sets those who seem to consistently in the lead at the end of the race are those who give themselves the best shot. In other words, being in the right place at the right time has just as much to do with the win as does your good luck or someone else's bad luck.

Contador was in phenomenal physical condition and raced strategically well enough to take the lead. The winner of the local race could not have won the race even which his opponents' flat tire and broken chain had he not been training for the competition and been close enough to the lead in the first place. Sometimes you luck out and stumble upon a herd of elk, but if you spend enough time scouting, locating, and target practicing, you can better take advantage of the opportunities when they present themselves.

So I don't think I can quite say that luck doesn't exist. However, if you put in the time and effort, you should be able to make your own.

2010 Glacier Challenge

Participants in the Glacier Challenge (in our crew, from left to right): Warren Lane, Zachariah Deister, Erik Schliebe, Colter Lane, Chris Deister, Neil Schliebe, and Zach Perrin.

Congratulations to "Family Friendly," a team of some guys from church, and Zach Perrin for an awesome completion of this year's Glacier Challenge. The team took 9th out of 35 teams and Zach finished 13th out of 21 solo racers (not bad for a 15 year old doing it for the first time. Hard core!)

More information about the race and results from this year and previous years are posted at http://www.theglacierchallenge.com/results.html.

Climbing and Skiing

I don't imagine there are too many places where you can rock climb and ski in the same weekend, let alone the same day. Dad and I were able to do both for two weekends in a row! On June 19th we went to Kila's Crag in the morning and then zipped off to the Jewel Basin for some spring skiing. The next week, we drove up to Stone Hill on Lake Koocanusa on Thursday night after work climbed until dark, slept in the back of Dad's truck (complete with new sleeping platform), and woke up to climb until it got too hot on Friday. The whole trip was solid, putting up a total of 5 moderate routes, 4 of which were traditional leads, and doing some anchor building/lead climbing practice. The "Chip Off the Young Block" climbing team is gearing up for some alpine ascents of some technical peaks in Glacier Park this summer, notably St. Nicholas and B7 Pillar. Then on Saturday we drove up to Logan Pass to ski Bird Woman Falls Basin with Brad, a friend from school, and Randy, a friend from church. We wound up circumnavigating Mount Clements and skied down from the saddle between Clements and Cannon, the Krummholz Route and then down the front between Oberlin and Clements back to the Visitor Center. Incredible couple of weekends!

Dad and I on the ridge of Mount Aneas before some great skiing.

Randy and Brad enjoying some sunshine and snow while skinning over the Hidden Lake overlook trail.

The "Chip off the Young Block" climbing team in action.

Brad in the foreground with the Krummholz Route shown in the background (the strip of snow in the center of the picture).

Beyond the Mountain

I just finished reading 'Beyond the Mountain' by Steve House, currently the premier mountaineer in the world. About a month ago, my Dad and I were fortunate enough to attend a presentation by House at the Lodge at Whitefish Lake. He was in the Flathead Valley to update his Wilderness First Responder training for his job as a mountain guide. It's quite an epic story actually: House was leading a pitch on Mount Temple in British Colombia when a rock broke under his ice tool causing him to fall 80 feet, pulling all his gear in transit. He sustained several broken ribs, cracked his pelvis, collapsed one of his lungs, and messed up some vertebra. His summer plans of climbing came screeching to a halt and he was forced to think about guiding instead of doing his own adventures to pay the bills. Amazingly the accident was in March and we were watching him walk around and give a power point presentation in the middle of May. Talk about a fast recovery!

I was very impressed with both Steve's presentation and the book itself. The first time I had really been "introduced" to Steve House was a recent article he wrote for Climbing Magazine called Green Mountain Manifesto. In the article he is pretty demanding in his call for the climbing community to become more green specifically in their treatment of the mountains themselves. His biggest issue is with fixed ropes, particularly on Denali, and climbers leaving trash behind. It's a tall order to fill, and even House himself falls short and he seems to express that in the article.

The book is very introspective. It was written after House nearly killed himself and nearly destroyed a friendship attempting Nanga Parbat. He began to rethink why he climbs mountains; what he gains from attempting to reach the summit. The style is autobiographical and tells tails of past climbs, including a year studying abroad in Europe where he became hooked, on the road to becoming the best climber in the world. I can relate most to the incredible relationships he talks of building while trusting each other on the sides of immense peaks. Most of my closest friends are those that I have spent a lot of time tied to them with a climbing rope. All in all I would highly recommend 'Beyond the Mountain' to anyone seeking their own reasons for climbing, whether it be 10 ft boulders or 8000 m peaks.

Ski Mountaineering in June

4:30 am, June 12th. The sound of BBC newscasters analyzing the oil disaster in the Gulf comes blaring through my fitful dreams. Barely awake I give my alarm clock a bleary look, my mind going through an extreme case of deja vu. This was too much like yesterday: not enough sleep, waking up before sunrise...but also knowing that I would be rewarded with an awesome day of skiing.

The day before, my dad and I had gotten up at 3:30 and met two other friends at their house at 4 in order to get over to the East Side of Glacier Park as early as possible. Our goal was to tour from Jackson Glacier Overlook up through Siyeh Pass and back down to the Going to the Sun Highway at Sunrift Gorge, a trip of about 10 trail miles, all before a wedding to be held nearby at 5 pm. We left the truck and hit the trail around 7:15, making it to the snow-line (where we were able to quit carrying our skis) within 40 minutes. The conditions were great for a skin up: not too cold and surprisingly dry. Our early morning was rewarded ten-fold when we were greeted at tree line with incredible views of the surrounding peaks. Unfortunately when we reached the pass, we were unable to find a path through the cliffs and around the corner to complete the loop. Nevertheless we had some great turns through spring snow conditions on the way back to the truck.

11:46 am, Comeau Pass

Adam and I had been climbing for the past 5 hours from the pickup, about 3 of which had been on our skis. The weather was working out well for us: not heating up too fast as to cause wet slide avalanches or, even worse, slides off the south facing rocks along our intending route. Now as we booted up the final 15 meters up the headwall to the top of the pass (in the summer there is a staircase blasted out of the rock, but it's chocked full of snow now making a vertical wall that we must surmount) we are greeted with gorgeous views looking eastward into the rest of Glacier Park overlooking snow-capped peaks for miles and the sweeping snow fields leading up to our right ending in the sharp summit of the goal for the day, Gunsight Peak.

When we loaded all of our gear into the truck, the four of us rolled down Going to the Sun road into St. Mary's for some coffee, a change of clothes, and relaxation time before heading to our friend's wedding back in the Park. The wedding itself was fantastic. Overcast all day long, the weather took a turn for the best when the clouds broke and the couple had sunshine and blue sky for their ceremony. Small, informal, and fun adequately describe the event (entertaining too if you count laughing at my friend Dan, the one getting married, totally out of his element and crippled with nervousness...).

2:30, Summit of Gunsight Peak

I would dare anyone to find a better lunch spot than the top of Gunsight Peak that day. The views would rival any of those from the Himalayas, the company couldn't be any better, and I had earned that delicious peanut butter and banana sandwich. The climb from the Pass had been a blast: skinning up the side of a mountain with decent exposure then transitioning to kicking steps through the steeper sections toward the summit itself, looking forward to skiing back down the entire time.

At the top Adam and I had reflected on our feelings of power in such an incredible place. In the mountains it is easy to feel small and insignificant next to the immensity of geological formations and the effects of wind, snow, and ice. The mountain could care less of the two humans scratching their way up its side and in a few days, hours even, any trace of our passing would be unrecognizable. Being Christians, it brought reflection on how we fit into God's plan; I know that I am just a speck in the immense span of things God has in his control. The difference is that God does care about how I take part in his designs.

Soft, spring-corn snow flies from the edges of our skis in our rapid descent from the peak back to the valley floor, our waiting transportation home, and security once again from the dangers of the mountains. It is always a relief to escape from the power of the rock and snow unscathed, but even better knowing that I have been changed by these experiences.