tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58393779172468264492024-02-19T01:02:46.386-08:00Land TargetDoug Pierson: Abstract of Storied DestinationsDoug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.comBlogger182125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-60642297933376434162016-02-25T00:31:00.001-08:002016-02-26T17:40:55.794-08:00Vinson Massif: Phase 1- Kick Off<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Across the past few months, I've had some friends ask
to provide overall mechanics of the Vinson Climb and explain in
greater detail what I thought could be broken down into four phases: (1) Kick off-
the effort to travel to Antarctica from Punta Arenas; (2) Preparation and travel to Vinson Massif Base Camp; (3) The climb itself; and
(4) The experience from Vinson Base through return to Punta Arenas. This post is dedicated to Phase 1- gearing up in Punta Arenas and all the excitement surrounding the experience of getting to Antarctica.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-size: large;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Happy Thanksgiving from Antarctica!</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<u1:p></u1:p><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;">ALE's charters depart from Punta Arenas based on weather window, where for safety reasons the flights will not go if gusts
exceed 30 knots or Union Glacier’s bulletproof blue ice runway isn’t
relatively free of snow. One of only three glacier runways globally, wheeled
medium lift planes land in the direction of the wind- primarily to limit the
issue of crosswinds and in a manner where flights can get in and out. To be
clear, this isn’t Denver International where you miss one plane and there’s
another one in two hours.. Union Glacier’s transcontinental ‘airport’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>is weather dependent and about as rugged as
you’ll find this side of Theater. When word comes, you go.. if it doesn’t, you
don’t. It’s basically that simple, and fortunately for us word arrived the day
after our orientation.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhDAim6Iogtl1pTfARFracE3emCnb5e-TXGSMGG_yyRD52M_o0T9uGsVdfGtNffrgVpGK5wWy623fiGvqpUOTriyEIlRmvfphaBkbi7S2htCIDhtstSkiGeAXb2EaAKZkDk03Pi-ENNYQ/s1600/Vinson_Journal+Maps_Pierson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhDAim6Iogtl1pTfARFracE3emCnb5e-TXGSMGG_yyRD52M_o0T9uGsVdfGtNffrgVpGK5wWy623fiGvqpUOTriyEIlRmvfphaBkbi7S2htCIDhtstSkiGeAXb2EaAKZkDk03Pi-ENNYQ/s640/Vinson_Journal+Maps_Pierson.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Antarctica and Union Glacier maps sketched in my journal during hours of down time</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;">A few minutes before 06:00,
the gentle bingling of my alarm wrenched me out of one of those coma-like
sleeps that leave you waking up in exactly the same position you passed out
in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few minutes later the established
forecasting window would begin for flights to/from the White Continent, and if
the call came we might only have 15 minutes of strip alert to get out the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wiped the sleep out of my eyes and quickly had everything bundled into one backpack/one gear bag for Antarctica and one daypack full of civilian clothes to
leave in Punta Arenas. Leaving one bag back provided memories of
Everest where a duffel full of clothes stayed at Yak & Yeti for a solid two
months. Upon return to Kathmandu, I found that losing 30 lbs from climbing and endless bowls of dalbat let me needing parachute cord to keep my jeans on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Vinson is a
much shorter trip, but the parallels were there and the memories made me all the more excited to get going on this particular adventure. </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<u1:p></u1:p>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">But then the waiting game began. 6 became 7. 7 became 8. At 08:30, after pacing around my
shoebox-sized room listening to Chilean TV and growing bored of testing the
theory of water spiraling down the drain (does the </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coriolis_force" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "calibri";">Coriolis
Effect</span></a><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> make water spiral down the drain in the opposite direction in the Southern Hemisphere from the Northern Hemisphere? Let’s discuss), I hiked up to the top floor of our hotel for
late breakfast and met Michael, always in good spirits but looking like he’d been
there for quite some time. We chatted for all of 30 minutes over endless cups
of coffee, entirely convinced the flight wasn’t going until Ozzie bursts in
with a huge grin, saying “hey guys, we have 20 minutes!” Wow, it’s actually
happening! Minutes later, we are in the lobby settling up and the ALE busses
appear. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">With great excitement we board and the collective group drive back out to
the airport where we jump off, head through security and then sit tight in a holding area until
our plane is ready for boarding. It’s here that I bump into Mostafa, one of my
older climbing buddies who is meandering through the terminal, and when I see
him I do a double take: “Mostafa!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
wheels around, does a double take of his own and it’s on- we spend the next 30
minutes in the terminal connecting and catching up on things from the past
seven years- family updates, friends in far-off places and recent
conquests. He’s heading to Antarctica to do the <a href="http://www.adventure-network.com/experiences/ski-south-pole%E2%80%94messner" target="_blank">Messner Traverse</a>- a challenging
and exhausting ~5 week ski evolution that tests the limits over 566 miles before wrapping up at
the South Pole. He's been delayed in Punta Arenas for a solid week waiting
for a weather window- or more passengers to arrive- to get to Antarctica and on
his way. Our group may have tipped the scales in his favor: there are 32
mountaineers, a handful off to see Emperor Penguins and a few Ski the Last
Degree folks heading down as well, making it a rich group of interesting and
intrepid adventurers off on individual adventures of a lifetime. </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<u1:p></u1:p>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">The bus slowly rolls past the Illushyn-76 we'll take on the way out, a vestige of the Cold War
developed by the then-Soviet Union as a medium sized transport with four jets
coupled to oversized gull wings providing high lift on short runways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s as hardy a plane as
you’ll find, designed and built in the mantra of most things Soviet- Make it
simple, make it durable, make it last. In Iraq we saw dozens of these planes
fly through Theater with no issues and even a decade later they still take to
the air, successfully delivering payloads in some of the most challenging
places on earth. They may be piloted by a bunch of grumbly and stern-faced
Russians, but they do the job reliably, consistently and with an iconic design silhouette. Once you see one, you are drawn to
the attractive shape and simply can’t take your eyes off it.</span></span></div>
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">We do, however.... this time. Our mission is taking us to another
bird, one that was unveiled to us only yesterday. This plane, a Boeing 757, is
owned and operated by Icelandair, who know a thing or two about getting into
and out of icy and snow-covered runways globally. It is souped up for the task
at hand: two specialized Rolls Royce engines, high tread tires and outfitted with a
crew that’s specialized to landing in these sorts of climes. Ultimately, this
is a proof-of-concept.. no commercial passenger planes have landed in
Antarctica- ever. Some have </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Air_New_Zealand_Flight_901" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "calibri";">crashed</span></a><span style="font-family: "calibri";">,
but until this plane conducted one single </span><a href="http://antarctic-logistics.com/?page_id=657" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "calibri";">proof-of-concept flight a few days earlier</span></a><span style="font-family: "calibri";">, none have ever
gone Feet Dry in Antarctica and delivered passengers. Hi, historic moment. Not
quite the same as the hardships, level of effort and duration of Cook, Amundsen and Shackleton,
but in the evolution of human history and technological progress I’m pretty
excited deep down that we (the human race that is) continue to stretch the
bounds of Possible. And with that, make places that just a century ago were so
inhospitable that now we can land a commercial airliner where previously that
was unthinkable. Not surprisingly, my feelings and opinions are </span><a href="https://issuu.com/wsjmag/docs/0216_issuu.com/86" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "calibri";">not
universally shared</span></a><span style="font-family: "calibri";">, but to each their own and I’m proud that not only is the
capability there, but that we live in a world where we can discuss such things openly.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoxwkV3TU3pi_SGIzGF1lWyj_ILcC4UHcL_iyWf0jbZeiyR0e3Rf1Qg-q_ZM7Tnl_0v7owKAdfssWMiteO48i5OQsahXD7fiWw3YIase086HiNhu4nH_upnJjHwShu3F45d3FcMNW1OZQ/s1600/Punta+Arenas_27Nov15_DP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoxwkV3TU3pi_SGIzGF1lWyj_ILcC4UHcL_iyWf0jbZeiyR0e3Rf1Qg-q_ZM7Tnl_0v7owKAdfssWMiteO48i5OQsahXD7fiWw3YIase086HiNhu4nH_upnJjHwShu3F45d3FcMNW1OZQ/s640/Punta+Arenas_27Nov15_DP.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boarding in Punta Arenas</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">With nervous excitement we arrive at the 757, parked a distance out on
the Punta Arenas grinder and watch as one after another grab packs and board
the plane. ALE have provided one last barrier to any baddies hitching a ride
with us: we step in an antibacterial "soup" to cleanse
the treads of our boots before boarding the plane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sure, there are plenty of other places for hobo vermin or bacteria to
hitch a ride in our stuff, and at least the company is trying. I get the whole
Life Finds a Way to Survive message, but given how insane the conditions are down
there what unexposed bacteria could make it but a minute anyway. Then again, maybe Europeans thought the same thing before infesting
the New World with rats so I get the point and happily go along with the cessation
plan. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Step, step. Squishy feet, up the boarding stairway we go. I stroll
down the aisle to find a seat and see
Mostafa smiling and offering the seat next to him, which a quickly
accept. We sit back and continue our catch-up while the Drake Passage, filled with angry slate green seas drifts by far below and we wing South toward remote, barren encased ice. It’s
a great, enriching conversation that
harkens back to 2008 when first crossing paths with Mostafa at Fire & Ice
in Kathmandu. Yet here we are, together on a
plane loaded with the smallest group of highly experienced climbers and
explorers cruising over the Antarctic Peninsula and embarking on another journey to the territory ahead.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Cavs_xQaMvpmtj1GNEYNSOMWcipCYm-tK9h0-e19NBNoiaJfjtCkpv_8LOndzTi9fV-Cx5rl3MRKIktNDeFf2gcMpjn9inYDjw2gzSj4B2P_I0U7e9dhSyXPzfeOH1ovGBmgB9Y_PXA/s1600/Drake+Passage_27Nov15_DP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Cavs_xQaMvpmtj1GNEYNSOMWcipCYm-tK9h0-e19NBNoiaJfjtCkpv_8LOndzTi9fV-Cx5rl3MRKIktNDeFf2gcMpjn9inYDjw2gzSj4B2P_I0U7e9dhSyXPzfeOH1ovGBmgB9Y_PXA/s640/Drake+Passage_27Nov15_DP.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking down on the Drake Passage hidden below the clouds</td></tr>
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</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">The flight passes quickly and before long a Flight Attendant comes on
the intercom, announcing that cabin temperature will drop as low as possible to
match the -20 surface temperatures. It's finally time to start donning our gear. Once the door opens at Union Glacier, we'll be in the thick of it, so we protect ourselves from the elements and dress in Sta-Puft Marshmallow Man fashion. Struggling, twisting and breaking a sweat because the plane temp will only drop to 50 degrees, we don the last of our protective layers while our pilots start
the slow approach to Union Glacier and an endless landscape of white. </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<u1:p></u1:p>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Within minutes mountains come in to view, if barely. I'm reminded of the scene from Aliens where a dropship full of Colonial Marines descend down to LV-426 and the terraforming colony drifts into view. As cameras snap on both sides of the aisle and fifty sets of eyes stare unblinking at passing terrain, the ground comes up to meet us. The weight of knowing that this is to be </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">our
existence for an unknown set of days smacks of reality. Readying for the challenges, successes
and failures ahead, we prepare for the hostilities of
weather coupled with drive and teamwork to succeed in the objective
that has brought us all here. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaJ9xq9LX6Fq8aLxC_lwARGUJrFJoF6xiWn38hnMKrUkIALXdt2PS2FegChMbQn-VzMWv9dL4oX7vL1KnQlcnGxN7GLPQvCV_RxkmWFj2I4IW_MPtjGi-vDTEVewGYxtyJkVCwAb4q_ww/s1600/Antarctica_757+Transport2_27Nov15_DP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaJ9xq9LX6Fq8aLxC_lwARGUJrFJoF6xiWn38hnMKrUkIALXdt2PS2FegChMbQn-VzMWv9dL4oX7vL1KnQlcnGxN7GLPQvCV_RxkmWFj2I4IW_MPtjGi-vDTEVewGYxtyJkVCwAb4q_ww/s640/Antarctica_757+Transport2_27Nov15_DP.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gearing up with 30 minutes flight time to go</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">The plane slams down and for a moment tilts sideways, bounces several more times and finally glides to a halt. "Great. We came all this way to die in a plane crash" definitely crossed our minds but soon we are all relieved that the landing is over, and the 757 slowly taxis to our disembarkation point. The door opens, cold air blows through the length of the cabin and we shuffle off the plane one at a time into the coldness of what is to be our home over the next several weeks. It's a surreal if not highly captivating landscape. We find ourselves nestled in a series of bowls that protect us from winds that made landing at the previous ALE runway much more complex, as we come to learn. We mill around for a bit, grab our gear and board specialized 4x4 or 6x6 trucks that take us the ~10km from runway to Union Glacier base camp. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyh6hBAIx1BwWAaFWfvcDs9WXCIWt_tW-Fzyqf771lGcMM_og-XohZqH8OP3f7cdKZFCwiuZ69mPeZMmq3Zo8SeqhKw5rE7h5OnOBVYZyw6V15OnIm2-gf5lc7LtDl-6K50gIfU5vGP2M/s1600/Antarctica_Union+Glacier+Runway_27Nov15_DP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyh6hBAIx1BwWAaFWfvcDs9WXCIWt_tW-Fzyqf771lGcMM_og-XohZqH8OP3f7cdKZFCwiuZ69mPeZMmq3Zo8SeqhKw5rE7h5OnOBVYZyw6V15OnIm2-gf5lc7LtDl-6K50gIfU5vGP2M/s640/Antarctica_Union+Glacier+Runway_27Nov15_DP.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Final socializing before departing Union Glacier runway for base camp</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">The driving process 'downtown' takes 30 minutes, but this time goes by quickly. Those of us experiencing our first trip here have eyes glued to the windows, looking out at the mountains passing by and stark beauty of this remote place. Tre-c, our driver and who will become one of my closer friends on this trip basically pilots our truck to camp while pointing out a bunch of highlights and landmarks along the way. One of the more entertaining items is the 'tree' located a few miles out from camp, made out of metal and designed to look like a pine tree silhouette. It's completely out of place but is welcoming in all it's quirkiness. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Upon arrival at camp, we walk the camp boundary receiving an orientation on the do's and don'ts of life at Union Glacier. This is a highly interesting hour- we learn about how solar and jet fuel power just about everything in camp, how the team working here have developed a highly efficient set of protocols to make life not just sustainable, but comfortable even through the harshest of conditions. The camp is built up every Austral Spring, and torn down every Austral Fall. Each ounce of trash, barrel of waste, gallon of fuel is accounted for and our time here highly regulated under ALE's ability to function through the <a href="http://www.ats.aq/index_e.htm" target="_blank">Antarctic Treaty System</a>. It's a highly fascinating process that we watched during a video shown on our first night at Union Glacier. I tried to find the video on YouTube and came up dry, if I do find it down the road I'll be sure to hang it here in this posting because it shows not only the amount of effort that goes into setting up the camp but also the detail and thought that has been built on 20+ years of experience getting people to/from this place safely and securely.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Update: <a href="https://vimeo.com/107231188" target="_blank">Here's the Video</a>. Thanks for the link Todd, you rock!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrgZ64gyeIfspGpa0DxVXLhB400wgSyHsOACp92O0b756QGpQ5swGuquV5gBUJxWl7FGiej7J0Wb-na285Czo2KEvjD3vjN-_tfkheFvLKTcJEP_bZzJ-W4hWIwvqzCrhw5LDJwnPaNbQ/s1600/Antarctica_Union+Glacier+Camp3_27Nov15_DP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrgZ64gyeIfspGpa0DxVXLhB400wgSyHsOACp92O0b756QGpQ5swGuquV5gBUJxWl7FGiej7J0Wb-na285Czo2KEvjD3vjN-_tfkheFvLKTcJEP_bZzJ-W4hWIwvqzCrhw5LDJwnPaNbQ/s640/Antarctica_Union+Glacier+Camp3_27Nov15_DP.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting oriented as our gear arrives</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Medical and comm shelters with skiway in the distance</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tent City- Clamshells for rent at Hotel Union Glacier</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simple instructions in how to use the commode at Union Glacier</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lecture time in one of the Union Glacier dining tents</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Finally, it's time for bed! We had a great meal that left me stuffed to the gills and I'm pretty excited to crawl into the tent Michael and I share to pass straight out. Looking out across the miles of ice being scoured by Katabatic Winds, I hoof it over to the comm tent to call Maggie- it's Thanksgiving and the families are starting to gather for turkey, stuffing and all sort of great food. Earlier, I had purchased an Iridium pre-pay card that allowed me 30 minutes of calling time and I was thrilled to get through, report on the day's progress and more importantly hear about how things at home were going. Everyone was in great spirits and after a great conversation, crunch crunch crunch across super dry snow and make my way back to our tent and the relative comfort of my -60 bag. In no time, </span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I drift off to the gentle knocking of tent flaps blowing in the breeze, snow batting the tent like grains of sugar and the comforting knowledge that I have the absolute best support network manning the Home Fires several thousand miles away.</span></div>
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Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-33795431665887191382016-01-03T22:05:00.000-08:002016-01-06T00:42:27.414-08:00Vinson Massif: Getting There<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Success!! Our team topped out 05 December somewhere in the
late afternoon (~17:00 local time) and having the support of friends and family back home while climbing at the bottom of the planet made it easy to focus on the task at hand. Maggie was fantastic in posting updates and being an unwavering pillar of strength, each time I had a chance to call back it was awesome to know she was keeping the home fires burning. I couldn't have done it without her. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Overall, our team also couldn’t have asked for a
better route and experience- the first of five climbing rotations that <a href="http://www.adventure-network.com/" target="_blank">ALE(Antarctic Logistics & Expeditions)</a> establishes each Austral season, we
were more or less traveling through spring-like weather (or as close as I guess
you’d get to that) composed of moderate storms, snow, winds and dips in
temperatures that other climb rotations don’t experience.. or, not with the frequency
that Rotation 1 gets at least. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the
first rotation, we established boot pack across miles of glacier, built
campsite platforms and blazed a trail that future teams will fall in
on this season. All during snowstorms, howling winds that left fingers and faces at
serious risk of frostbite and low visibility that thanks to an overwhelmingly
stark environment easily blended sky with ground. It’s as remote and hostile an
environment as I have ever experienced in nature.. subzero temperatures that
dipped as low as minus 90 and snow bridges crossing hundred foot wide crevasse. Yet, there is an unbelievably breathless beauty to the place. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Looking out across an endless landscape of the
whitest of white you almost get the sense of being a time traveler- reflecting
on the sheer massiveness of glacier thousands of feet deep and million years
old doing their slow, methodical march to the ocean. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vinson Base Camp at 2am</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">To put it in perspective, when the Romans were busy conquering Europe this area looked
exactly the way it looks now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Nothing changes, locked in an icy prison with seasons defined more by varying degrees of cold and sunlight rather than leaves falling or flowers blooming. Time passes by: days blend to weeks, weeks become months, months drift in to years in this wintery landscape. Man first visited this continent only ~100 years ago and climbed Vinson during the 1966-67 season, with only an estimated 1,400 summits since that first US expedition. </span>Over the
more recent decades, visiting teams have followed an exacting process of ensuring
No Trace.. taking everything out that they bring in, save a few small spots to
drop #1 along the route. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You don’t
really find climbers here that don’t know what they are doing or violate the
Boy Scout motto of leaving the area in better shape than it’s found. As a
result, the mountain is and remains extremely clean. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The entire trip, I think I saw two pieces of
trash- not intentionally tossed, but more likely something that fell out of a
pocket- starkly different from other mountains around the world. There just really isn’t anything along the ~12 mile trail other than
boot marks, a few fixed lines, your occasional Pee Hole and nature. Tons and tons
of overwhelming, unbelievably striking and entirely unforgiving nature. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking Down To Vinson Base Camp From The Trail</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And that’s pretty much the understanding you go into this
climb with. All gear you bring has to be necessary while supporting your existence in a place where
fingers go numb in a matter of seconds. In preparing for this trip, I pulled a
bunch of Himalaya gear out of mothballs.. a -60 sleeping bag, equipment
designed for 8000m summits, beefy crampons and a wide variety of durable gear soon
filled our living room. At a time when Santa was making his list and checking
it twice, mine was being reviewed thoroughly to make sure not to make the naughty
list. Given the environment, equipment isn’t a place to skimp or shortcut, but
having gear from previous trips at the ready probably saved several hundred-if not thousand-
dollars to make sure the climb was both a success and comfortable at the same
time. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></o:p><br />
<u><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">Getting There & Our Team<o:p></o:p></span></span></u><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As mentioned in a previous post, the only real option to
climbing Vinson is to go with an outfitter(ALE won’t allow self-guided climbs), and coordinate via ALE themselves,
who basically established the Antarctic climb experience supporting Dick Bass
and Frank Wells in 1985. This is the team that defined
commercial travel to/from Antarctica and have the whole process down to a
finely tuned machine through years building up knowledge and an incredibly deep
bench of staff experience. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pre-Antarctica ALE Orientation</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Once in Punta Arenas, we joined an orientation session
designed to keep us alive in Antarctica and familiarize with ALE processes, which
also involved specifics on <a href="https://photosynth.net/view.aspx?cid=c122613c-0c9a-4162-a24d-89c0a315ca81" target="_blank">Union Glacier Camp</a>. This camp functioned more or less as our
Forward Operating Base (FOB) once on the continent- complete with a blue ice runway
that allows for medium lift transport flights from South America and has
thorough medical, cook, comms and logistic support. This worked extremely well
for us in providing comforts of home and to maintain sanity through several days at the beginning
and end of the trip when to pass time we spent hours playing poker, watching
movies and taking in the occasional lecture served up by ALE experts. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was at this meeting that we learned we would be taking a Boeing 757 flown by Icelandair down to Union Glacier rather than the
traditional IL-76 channel flight. Surprise! This plane is unbelievably cool- outfitted with supercharged Rolls
Royce engines to help take off on solid ice, all business class seats and a
crew experienced in operating through extreme polar environments. They had made
a proof of concept flight earlier; this would be the first 757 landing with
passengers on Antarctica- ever. Pretty cool, but also provided at least a little
apprehension among the teams traveling down. As we waited to fly, I bumped into
an good climbing buddy of mine- Mostafa Salameh!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s already complete with the Seven Summits and
on the final leg of completing the <a href="http://explorersgrandslam.com/" target="_blank">Explorer’s Grand Slam</a>- the tallest peaks on
every continent and travel to North & South Poles. We catch up- it’s
literally been years. Trading stories of family, friends and home, it’s great
to see an old friend and familiar face. We sit next to each other on the flight
down and talk for the whole flight down, surrounded by a flight full of bold climbers, skiiers, scientists and explorers from around the world. The whiteness of the Great Arctic
Thing which floats over polar regions making everything cloudy for miles and miles
soon extends from Punta Arenas to Antarctica itself- we don’t even see the peninsula
as we slide by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But after time, the
whiteness of the cloudy Thing became an ever brighter and more vivid white as
glacier and snow-capped mountains begin to take shape. Our 757 slides slowly
toward the ice runway and with touchdown are greeted with a WHAM!!!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The plane slams down and lurches at least
10 feet in the air, tilting and drifting for a brief few seconds before bouncebouncebouncebouncing down the
runway and finally coming to a stop, taxiing back down to where we are to disembark. It made for an exciting and interesting welcome to this continent,
definitely getting the adrenaline pumping and setting the stage for events to come. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">757 Flight From Punta Arenas to Antarctica</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Final Approach- Looking out to Union Glacier Camp</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Union Glacier's Blue Ice Runway</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5NtKcxSiQZy4t6KWLfvPG9tWPmyF6M7oAEsLqBAFWte4HlSVLYHuDfAN74i7QeTGPilQJCFhrPMYzyeLEA_-VcxX9kr7fctALQKrVnAUAthfEoWrDPaSwKcFaEQhuHoWN8D2uMHKPOik/s1600/Antarctica_Doug+%2526+Mostafa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5NtKcxSiQZy4t6KWLfvPG9tWPmyF6M7oAEsLqBAFWte4HlSVLYHuDfAN74i7QeTGPilQJCFhrPMYzyeLEA_-VcxX9kr7fctALQKrVnAUAthfEoWrDPaSwKcFaEQhuHoWN8D2uMHKPOik/s640/Antarctica_Doug+%2526+Mostafa.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Catching Up With My Buddy Mostafa</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Our team is small, made up of a party of three- Ossy (our
guide), Michael and good old moi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For
the climb itself, I chose to climb with <a href="http://www.mountainmadness.com/" target="_blank">Mountain Madness</a>, knowing from previous
expeditions that they provide top tier guides, great food, solid team equipment and
an overall safe trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They also
tend to keep teams small in size, which I prefer.. a team with more than 5 tend
to need a veteran guide specializing in psychology to accommodate a range of personalities
and issues. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my experience, smaller
teams tend to move with greater agility, covering the gaps more effectively
than on a large team with multiple moving parts. This is of course my personal
taste and nothing more than that, with plenty who disagree. Over time, each person
in this sport learns what sort of climbing they prefer, and like anything in life, once you develop
your own formula for success you should stick with it. For
example: I like climbing on teams rather than solo. I have climbed solo many
times, but just plain don’t like it. Instead, I enjoy sharing the overall experience
with people and creating unique bonds with teammates. I have also found that I
like climbing on teams that have at least one other US person on it- man or
woman, who I can then throw out dumb movie quotes with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Others are great to climb with, but culturally wouldn’t
know a Will Ferrell quote from Old School if it Frank the Tank himself asked to
bring green hats and go streaking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing
more or less, and probably not the best of reasons to explain what I enjoy in teammates, just a bit of perspective on my decision to go with the team I did, what sort of climbing I enjoy and why I liked the team we had for the trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I won’t
say that for this climb that we were the fastest or most efficient team on the
mountain (we weren’t), but at the end of the day we had a team that supported each other consistently. Further, as a testament to the camaraderie and closeness all five teams on the mountain shared, each team on this rotation looked out for each other, got along great, and supported each other throughout- which was really special and helped us all know we were there for each other in a shared goal. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLSZTF-13lW1AU_boOV9SdZaNsFEes-IhBo_CunYII1KxCe1TLHYf1M_e0WQGMfXsSoEfD0Q5Dnkww1sVsnLP5qY4T1a8h2hxH3hvaFGjy0xPkBHJfhUl59BWT9bPsnPe30AFaIlqFlRw/s1600/Antarctica_Blue+Glacier+Runway_The+Team_DP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLSZTF-13lW1AU_boOV9SdZaNsFEes-IhBo_CunYII1KxCe1TLHYf1M_e0WQGMfXsSoEfD0Q5Dnkww1sVsnLP5qY4T1a8h2hxH3hvaFGjy0xPkBHJfhUl59BWT9bPsnPe30AFaIlqFlRw/s640/Antarctica_Blue+Glacier+Runway_The+Team_DP.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Team: Michael, Ossy & Me</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And so we embarked on our trip- three intrepid climbers
setting out for the unknown (at least for us) with eyes wide open looking for a challenge, which we would find, meet and overcome. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure, going as the first rotation would
require us to deal with the challenges and uncertainty of weather moreso than
teams climbing later in the Austral Summer. But we went into it with eyes wide open, an excited sense of innocence and wonder placing one foot in front of the other until we were feet dry, stepping firmly onto Antarctic ice and beginning our journey. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBLvPOi13pPj3r7PpOIWkcenk-t3f1IqAkLe7gcLGFisp7ZzAn6dWL5QNAw-5GslXO-mjIjrNdZTkGv5bx2NeANlPrgZF5G5ipKN679afR_i0SoBwGde01NG-hKCzrlaIegttpEu2EFHU/s1600/Antarctica_Katabatic+Winds_DP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBLvPOi13pPj3r7PpOIWkcenk-t3f1IqAkLe7gcLGFisp7ZzAn6dWL5QNAw-5GslXO-mjIjrNdZTkGv5bx2NeANlPrgZF5G5ipKN679afR_i0SoBwGde01NG-hKCzrlaIegttpEu2EFHU/s640/Antarctica_Katabatic+Winds_DP.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Katabatic Winds Scouring Landscape</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<u><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">Good Pieces of Gear: Tech<o:p></o:p></span></span></u></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The knowledge that you were treading in an area with no life outside a small number of climbers inhabiting the trail and no
expectation of hearing the familiar buzzing of civilization- planes, phones,
cars.. it’s surreal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only contact
with the outside world is a satellite phone, and even that is a challenge- only one
provider (Iridium) supports Antarctica and the costs are north of $1/minute, so
calls are brief and intermittent. The relative infrastructure of Union Glacier
allows for the purchase of pre-pay cards at $35/30 minutes of call time, but
once on the mountain this restricts down to a more valuable commodity- your
phone’s battery life. Only solar chargers give devices power and my electronics
gave me fits from the start. iPod? Didn’t hold a charge on the first day and
never left Base Camp. GoPro? Died on my way to Low Camp and was left in my
cache bag. Two external batteries proved useless as well- and were left behind.
The only two things that did work:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">-</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My <a href="http://www.microsoft.com/en-us/mobile/phones/all/?order_by=Latest" target="_blank">Lumia cell</a>, which became my MP3 player,
portable game player and camera. I kept it nestled in my chest pocket to not
gamble with the temperatures but even when left outside overnight by accident,
fired up quickly and held a decent charge throughout, even on the summit in
those unbelievable temps. This thing was rugged, too. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At one point at Low Camp, it fell out of my
pocket and I didn’t notice it on the snow until stepping on it with full
weight. This left two sharp holes in the glass and a fancy network of spiderwebbed
glass across the rest of the phone. Even with all this going on, the phone
proved to be a workhorse and never faltered. Say what you will about the
Windows Operating System, but the phones are almost indestructible.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">-</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A <a href="http://www.goalzero.com/" target="_blank">Goal Zero</a> portable solar panel, which worked
unbelievably well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s amazing what
sort of technological revolution solar is going through, and this robust portable
panel is testament to the strides being made. It even worked charging my phone
in the tent.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-JlgrirW2ayMwL41XWgmtY6yyB7EZqKRdNbD29JtOT1PUZW5W0VvHUxmgpAY-M80cyDI3SX2Cr0As-Yzg733zVv2epbF1HTAJURMSham44o__pKMkAioAlJj7xb9vyO-Z2HfHkG5GfY8/s1600/Antarctica_Vinson+Massif+Route_06Dec15_DP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-JlgrirW2ayMwL41XWgmtY6yyB7EZqKRdNbD29JtOT1PUZW5W0VvHUxmgpAY-M80cyDI3SX2Cr0As-Yzg733zVv2epbF1HTAJURMSham44o__pKMkAioAlJj7xb9vyO-Z2HfHkG5GfY8/s640/Antarctica_Vinson+Massif+Route_06Dec15_DP.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
<u><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">Good Pieces of Gear: Climbing<o:p></o:p></span></span></u><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As with other areas of the world, there are tried and true
pieces of equipment that I relied on throughout this expedition- both for the
climb, and to maintain a bit of creature comfort along the way:<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><a href="http://featheredfriends.com/snowy-owl-down-sleeping-bag.html" target="_blank">Feathered Friends -60 Snowy Owl</a>. I’m really the
last person in the world to be promoting Feathered Friends, especially after my
8000m climbing suit failed.. at 8000m while on the Hillary Step. That, coupled
by their toxic reaction when in their store explaining what happened makes this
a tough sell. But when it comes to bags, this one is top shelf. It kept me warm
no matter what camp or temperature, it’s a great piece of gear.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><a href="https://www.thenorthface.com/featured/summit-series.html" target="_blank">North Face Summit Series</a> jackets, pants and
gloves proved durable, warm and reliable throughout the trip, no matter what
layering combination or phase of the climb. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><a href="http://www.mountainhardwear.com/trango-3-OU9656.html" target="_blank">Mountain Hardware Trango</a> tents were widely used
across climb teams and while I’m not really a fan of the clips used to hold
tent poles in place, these tents are bomb proof. One team climbing a day behind
ours ended up getting caught in a storm at High Camp for 4 ½ days with 50kt
sustained winds and now absolutely swear by the tents durability. One of my
friends actually bought the tent he spent all that time in the storm, a
testament to how much climbers rely on gear they trust.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
My</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"> <a href="http://www.rangermade.net/backpacks/the-arcteryx-usmc-ilbe-gen-2-backpack/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">USMC ILBE (Improved Load Bearing
Equipment) Main Pack Generation 2</span></a> is made by Arcteryx and modeled after the
Bora 90 is one of the most reliable packs I've come across. It's rugged,
durable, versatile and has proven it's worth climbing around the
world- from the Himalaya to Pacific Northwest, and now Antarctica.
It's limitation comes from being heavy, but given its carrying capacity
and how solid a pack this is, I'll happily deal with it.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><pic><o:p></o:p></pic></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU-qr02uzmizn91GBrlwCVU9XYr8wExPbWqMDUuL44MWhnRU1Sa3jINl1972nBJtX-guzJ2dPtJOQrnBys3IRasf2XdZfhkkgbXFfZ_8qzschfczBZKlSpKpGNlDbj0yu90ZGlr1njQiI/s1600/Antarctica_Vinson+Massif_USMC+ILBE_DP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU-qr02uzmizn91GBrlwCVU9XYr8wExPbWqMDUuL44MWhnRU1Sa3jINl1972nBJtX-guzJ2dPtJOQrnBys3IRasf2XdZfhkkgbXFfZ_8qzschfczBZKlSpKpGNlDbj0yu90ZGlr1njQiI/s640/Antarctica_Vinson+Massif_USMC+ILBE_DP.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Gear (Most of It) Spread Out At Vinson Base Camp</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><pic><o:p></o:p></pic></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><pic><o:p></o:p></pic></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><pic><o:p></o:p></pic></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><pic><o:p></o:p></pic></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><pic><o:p></o:p></pic></span><br /></div>
</div>
Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-80332407350672272922015-12-06T21:39:00.002-08:002015-12-06T21:39:09.699-08:00Safe and Sound - Union Glacier Doug's team managed to catch the last plane from base camp back to Union Glacier today!!! So he is back to Antarctic "civilization." It sounds like they are expecting some weather to move in so flights to Punta Arenas might not happen for a few days but my fingers are crossed for an early return home.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, the other client climber on Doug's team got frostbite on a few of his fingers and on his nose so he's spending the night in the infirmary hut. Doug volunteered to look after him overnight so he's enjoying the warmth before heading back to sleeping in tents tomorrow. Thoughts and wishes to Michael for a speedy recovery!! I wish I could overnight the Russian frostbite cream Doug got when he was climbing Elbrus - that stuff worked like magic. But besides the frostbite everyone is well and back at Union Glacier. :)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Maggie Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11358228219506968945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-156051243348754862015-12-05T13:17:00.002-08:002015-12-05T13:17:27.188-08:00On top of the bottom of the world!!!Just got a phone call from the SUMMIT of Vinson Massif!!! THEY DID IT! :D I might be the proudest wife in the world right now!! They're at the summit right now (1:15PM PST) taking photos. But it sounded pretty cold so they'll be heading back down to high camp soon! <br />
<br />
WOOO HOOOOO! Highest peak in Antarctica? Check. Maggie Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11358228219506968945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-88566732023607366012015-12-04T16:24:00.001-08:002015-12-04T16:24:29.781-08:00Tsk Tsk, but really YAY! I haven't heard from Doug since Monday, hence the tsk tsk in the title (someone's sat phone better be out of batteries :-P ) But have no fear! I've done some internet sleuthing and Mountain Madness (the guide group Doug is climbing with) has posted an update!<br />
<br />
<em>Mt Vinson Expedition reports that the team is at high camp and will make summit attempt tomorrow. Wishing them all the best for a successful summit and safe return!</em> <br />
<br />
TOMORROW!! That's the YAY part!!! It looks like the weather has kept nice and everyone is healthy and in good shape. Cannot wait to hear news of a successful and safe summit! :)<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOShtIqoPxxHLOyDvGAG0BF8x_zskNBMnYBU1zfYzsSD18XPvAPqUefvjQjPzPqkovXf12-JlQC_lKezd6nkjacqJNNYBeWZOKx0xwZsDi0lslPUPl4kcz0z-3PitMzr4gzddUo9Aeom8/s1600/vinson.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOShtIqoPxxHLOyDvGAG0BF8x_zskNBMnYBU1zfYzsSD18XPvAPqUefvjQjPzPqkovXf12-JlQC_lKezd6nkjacqJNNYBeWZOKx0xwZsDi0lslPUPl4kcz0z-3PitMzr4gzddUo9Aeom8/s400/vinson.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
[photo: Mountain Madness]</div>
Maggie Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11358228219506968945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-38856304301596446462015-12-01T08:37:00.000-08:002015-12-02T12:57:29.366-08:00Made it to Massif I got a chance to talk to Doug yesterday. The team made it safely from Union Glacier camp closer to the base of Vinson Massif in the ~2-3 days since the last update. Yesterday they did their first altitude run up to about 10,600 feet and dropped a bunch of supplies. The plan for today is to move up to low camp. <br />
<br />
He's met some of the climbers on the other teams and apparently they're pretty cool, so he's having fun. The clothes and sleeping bag he took are keeping him warm but apparently when the sun goes away it gets "holy smokes" cold really fast. <br />
<br />
That's all for now! Over and out. <br />
- Maggie <br />
<br />Maggie Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11358228219506968945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-32758254628800603182015-11-26T20:42:00.000-08:002015-11-26T20:43:06.114-08:00Happy Thanksgiving - Touchdown Union GlacierHi all! Maggie here, taking over comms for Doug who has officially gone dark as of this morning. So while we were enjoying our delicious turkey dinners, Doug was making his way down to Antarctica. <br />
<br />
The group got a thumbs up on the weather to fly so they headed to the airport. Doug hopped a 757 (a proof of concept pilot program that I guess they usually fly around Iceland). He actually ran into an Everest buddy of his and ended up sitting next to him on the flight. <br />
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The plane landed safe and sound on Union Glacier. (I've included a picture of what I assume Camp Union Glacier looked like... Doug will have to validate the accuracy of the photo when he gets home.) In terms of how frigid it is, apparently it's "not that bad" until the wind blows and then it's "really freaking chilly." It sounds like there are a number of climbers there from the Everest climbing community and someone brought a football, so I'm not worried about him getting bored or not having any fun.They may be hunkered down at the Union Glacier camp for a few days since the wind has picked up but I'm sure they'll make the most of it. I'll keep everyone posted on when they make their move towards Vinson. <br />
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Ok, time for me to sleep off this turkey! Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!<br />
<br />Maggie Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11358228219506968945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-29680437129460527992015-11-25T20:14:00.000-08:002015-11-26T01:12:58.709-08:00Gear! Gear! Gear! Said the Sergeant<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Today started off with a bang- Michael, Ossie and I grabbed breakfast in the hotel and connected on the plan for the day. First up was to do a gear check to ensure nothing critical was missing, filter through the nice-to-have's and do a weight/value consideration on if it goes or not. At about 10:30, ALE (Antarctic Logistics & Expeditions) - the only show in town who are authorized to fly non-military/government air onto the continent- did a quick weight check and then whisked away our team supplies and personal gear duffels. We won't see them until on Union Glacier, although we did separate pack key items like down jackets, boots and several warming layers. These go into your backpack that is hand carried at all times. which isn't that bad a plan should you need to put additional layers on in short order once on Antarctica.</div>
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With bags enroute, the rest of the day was then spent orienting ourselves with lovely Punta Arenas- walking the streets, checking out statues of Magellan, great pizza joints and generally exploring while tying together a series of last details before going dark on the world. Ossie spent a good deal of time covering the specifics of 'leave no trace' that ALE and pretty much every responsible party are held to by international treaties. Everything (and I mean everything) that we bring to the continent gets hauled out. Gear, trash, waste... everything. You do have to hand it to the sentinels of this policy- their decree is to keep Antarctica from becoming what portions of Everest are. Through a rigorous screening policy, guides are vetted over a period of time before ALE will agree to let them guide. Guides then in turn keep their team in check. It all works this way. The snow stays white, the granite rocks stay black, a landscape devoid of any living thing save transient visitors stays pure.</div>
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At 17:00, we were invited to an orientation at ALE, which covered the details of our travel plan. It's all dependent upon the weather, which has proven to be fairly squirrely. Weather stations on Union Glacier are reporting back to Punta Arenas where meterologists and pilots go heads-down to decide if the flight across the Southern Ocean is a go or no-go. This happens on a daily basis.. so if tomorrow at 06:00 the readings aren't favorable to land a multiple engine airplane on a pure ice runway, we delay a day.</div>
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We also learned all about life at Union Glacier- it's a mini-city from what we were told, complete with zones that host different camp visitors. One area is for 'permanent' staff, one area is for 'guests'- those people traveling between stations, and one area is for Vinson climbers. It's apparently chock full of food- you can gain weight at Union Glacier from an unending supply of free food. There are also social tents, a place to get your gear situated and a follow-on runway for the single engine skiplanes that will ultimately take us from Union Glacier to Base Camp at Patriot Hills. This should be quite an experience after a ~4 hr flight down to our future and hopefully temporary waypoint enroute to the Sentinel Range.</div>
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After a quick chat amongst the ~35 odd other travelers who will be flying once the green light is given, we grabbed our boarding pass for the flight and headed out to grab a last dinner. Final packing underway, gear all set to go this is hopefully our last night in Punta Arenas for a while.<br />
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Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-23249247883225095712015-11-24T21:27:00.000-08:002015-11-24T21:27:33.671-08:00Touchdown- Punta Arenas<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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“But I reckon I got to light out for the territory ahead of the rest, because Aunt Sally she’s going to adopt me and sivilize me, and I can’t stand it. I been there before." <br />
- Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1885)<br />
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It only took two days, but we finally made it- the team is in place having all arrived in Punta Arenas. Definitely chilly here- and surprisingly dark given we are almost at the southern terminus of South America. Isn't it supposed to be light even close to midnight? Maybe I'm not calibrating our true latitude correctly and aren't as far south as we thought. <br />
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Couple notes on an otherwise un-noteworthy trip down:<br />
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- Flying into Santiago is incredible, threading through the snow capped Andes and then foothills surrounding the city. Both sides of the plane had cameras out and even while at the airport the surrounding landscape provides Santiago with a spectacular setting.<br />
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- English is a pretty rare commodity, so far I can count the number of people speaking Eigo on one hand and have had to rely on awesome and dazzling High School Spanish to get by. Fortunately, people here are pretty relaxed and accommodating of my efforts struggling to get rust out of the Spanish gears in stitching together sentences.<br />
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- Apparently Chile and Spain aren't besties, or I just misread an experience at Customs with one of my bags spread all over a table. An agent flagged one of my bags and bypassed about 15 bags of candy, nuts and freeze dried food to hone in on two vacuum sealed packets of Prosciutto. The agent confiscated the meat and when I asked about it was told that it wasn't the meat- it was because it was from Spain. I didn't argue, just re-packed and went on my way.<br />
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On the taxi ride from the airport to hotel, it was amazing to look up into a vividly bright sky with whole constellations not visible in the northern hemisphere twinkling away, the Southern Cross sitting high in the sky. At one point, I pulled out my phone and opened my compass app.. heading due south, my compass had us on a northerly heading as it dialed in on the magnetic South Pole, not that far away. We zinged along in taxis toward our hotel (<a href="http://www.hotelfinisterrae.cl/" target="_blank">Best Western Hotel Finis Terrae</a>- or, End of Earth) at the not-so-exorbitant rate of $12 fixed price.. this nation isn't all that expensive from what we have seen sofar. <br />
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Arriving, Michael and I met the third in our party- Ossie and planned for tomorrow. Plenty going on in preparation and planning to be had, so tonight is sleep for the weary travelers. And as tomorrow comes along, we prepare to light out. Like Huck Finn's unbreakable spirit incapable of simply settling down as a boring old townsfolk do. We yearn to seek adventure, see the unknown and experience all that life has to offer.<br />
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Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-62069127071461427162015-11-23T18:20:00.002-08:002015-11-24T21:49:35.471-08:00Antarctica- Enroute At Last<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Finally on the way! <br />
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I can't believe that the day has arrived and wow did it come quickly. The last few weeks involved one major deliverable after another, and given the compressed timelines, travel here and there for Marines, family commitments and work requirements it's been a manic, hectic month. Fortunately Maggie was pretty consistent in making sure that required gym time and packing were built into the schedule.. if not, I doubt that things would have fallen into place as easily as they did. <br />
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The gear list itself is about half that of Everest, although some key components are most definitely required. The other day I went to try and figure out what the forecast was for Union Glacier, Patriot Hills or Vinson.. and quickly learned that the closest forecast that's being reported is the South Pole itself, from Amundsen-Scott Station. It's warmed a bit since last time I looked, a balmy -20 on the day we'll likely land on the glacier but as is expected with polar climes at the extremes of the planet -20 will actually feel much, much colder. It is promising to see that the skies are expected to be clear.. one of the largest challenges of this climb is taking advantage of weather windows when available, and the first big step in effectively sneaking up to the top of Vinson is crossing the Southern Ocean.. specifically the Bellingshausen Sea, tracing the peninsula and touching down on the frozen runway of Union Glacier. Without a weather window, I'd be parked in Punta Arenas until the clouds part.<br />
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And so, the gear list needs to reflect those cold, cold temperatures. I pulled items like my -60 sleeping bag that's seen time in Alaska and the Himalaya out of mothballs, Scarpa Invernos w/ Intuition liners and Alti-Mitts are all now packed happily away in compression bags and ready to rumble. Other items, such as comfort foods and Nalgene bottles have insulating layers to keep them from flash-freezing. There are some stark differences in gear, however. No need for critical avalanche gear like beacons or poles, from what I understand the ancient land of Antarctica receives so little snow, and is so cold that the ice encasing the Sentinel Range effectively stays where it lies. Likewise helmet.. rock isn't really moving so there isn't much objective hazard to rockfall, especially due to any melting (not happening given those temps). I did pack a bunch of extra goggles and sunglasses.. with the Ozone Layer basically gone over the South Pole and all that reflective light bouncing off white, white snow the last thing I want to deal with is a lost pair of glasses. Backups in these, and other categories come with experience, but are highly sought after on the once-in-a-million time when you need 'em. <br />
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And so, this morning the family threesome of Maggie, Mochi and I headed out to the airport with close to 200 lbs of gear spread amongst four backpacks and gear bags. While Maggie and Mochi headed to DC for Thanksgiving turkey, I'm off in different direction and the expedition is ON. First to Houston, then Santiago, and the southern terminus of South America- Punta Arenas. From there, gear check and departure over the water toward the bottom of the planet. <br />
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Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-52652446896334499442015-10-31T07:39:00.000-07:002015-10-31T09:49:42.819-07:00Vinson Massif- Prep<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Happy Halloween! </span><br />
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The time has come to start focusing on the next chapter of the Seven Summits and in doing so, have decided that Vinson Massif will be the next mountain to zero in on. It's been a while since I updated this blog, and in planning for Vinson decided that it was high time to resurrect it with experiences planning, coordinating and then ultimately executing this next expedition which should have quite a few unique moments along the way. The challenges for this mountain, so I'm told, vary greatly- from extreme cold to extreme remoteness- of being parked nowhere near civilization, the closest outpost several hundred miles away at South Pole station. Aside from the occasional sat call, there will be no Internet, email, television or any of the other luxuries we have come to take for granted in the day-to-day grind people are now accustomed to. It will quite literally be the most remote place I have ever visited.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt Elbrus Barrels</td></tr>
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The past few years haven't been quiet- I summited Kilimanjaro in 2011 on New Years Day (<a href="https://photosynth.net/view.aspx?cid=76cd8f57-17fa-4b6a-aed0-ed90c8809fd5" target="_blank">check out this cool Photosynth</a>), took a shot at Elbrus in 2013 but turned back 800' from the top when winds and -30 temperatures left my face scorched with frostbite. Quite the experiences, at some point when things slow down a bit I'll go back through the journals written on both of these trips and make sure to convert over to blog entries- they were each unique and different in their own way. Getting in to and out of Tanzania presented different challenges from Russia. The gear you need to climb each of these mountains vary as much as the climates you travel through, the steps you need to take to prepare for each vary as well. Likewise, the Caucasus mountains are so starkly different from equatorial Africa.. one of my enduring memories of Elbrus is seeing a large Russian man in tank top, bare skin hot pink from the wind while riding a chairlift and casually smoking a cigarette during 20 degree snow flurries. That's about as different as you can get when compared to a pride of lions lazing fat and happy in the baking sun of Ngorogoro Crater after making a meal out of a Wildebeest- essentially the cheeseburger of the African plain. They both are just absolutely spectacular mountains, unique in their own right and special chapters in a fantastic ride that the Seven Summits deliver. In many ways even banging out these quick sentences harkens back to truly enjoyable experiences and I'm looking forward to cracking those journals open and digging up photos for a trip down memory lane.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimnUSBja66hx1wb8Nu36i7mLnaKaJrpqnGo1B1mktHwOdbfMKGskmrHfkiXYVrpi6nDm7sDx6ulxE6c6Ar4v4WnEol2CdyDAuxsasvYMkQOdpHZTnif8LugDFs4YrOVH0Db_PGi5zZa8k/s1600/Doug_Pierson_Rainier2015_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimnUSBja66hx1wb8Nu36i7mLnaKaJrpqnGo1B1mktHwOdbfMKGskmrHfkiXYVrpi6nDm7sDx6ulxE6c6Ar4v4WnEol2CdyDAuxsasvYMkQOdpHZTnif8LugDFs4YrOVH0Db_PGi5zZa8k/s400/Doug_Pierson_Rainier2015_2.jpg" title="Mt Rainier summit camp" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rainier summit crater tent camp</td></tr>
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Rainier is pretty much a standard, living in the Pacific Northwest allows the luxury of being able to spend time on that mountain with little planning, and pulling together a team of willing Marines to go overnight in the dead of winter or take advantage of a beautiful weather window to sleep on the summit of that majestic mountain is fairly easy. Sure, hauling tents, bags, gear, food and everything else up to the top isn't the most efficient of ways to climb, but it takes a fairly routine route and laces it with all the newness and excitement of making it feel special all over again. <br />
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There have been plenty of other experiences over the past few years as well. I married a beautiful and fun woman who challenges me in many ways both intellectually and personally. We now have a spunky puppy who joined our blooming family and thinks she runs the joint, despite weighing five whole pounds. We bought and continue to upgrade a great house that routinely sees parties and events to liven the place up but requires constant upkeep. I picked up and then turned over a Battalion of Marines, followed by two new roles and the rank of Colonel. Work has it's highs and lows as much as anywhere, but I landed on a great team and enjoy it when feeling like I'm adding value. Operation Human Being has smacked me in the face as hard as I guess could be expected and the days while away, the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, springs become summers and summers become fall. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0xavflqHJ_yOvGEcNqQEB2uGdlF5Ivg99s3RrvsV_JrdMPWL2_SwgxEjEnA9VwfrRQ_A4sCIRnkfo969dOGdB25S-run2sPGUFlnMrDkfSDkCqJSghX0fimZjyD5GJXi4omYS2p0DL6Y/s1600/Doug_Pierson_Rainier2015_5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0xavflqHJ_yOvGEcNqQEB2uGdlF5Ivg99s3RrvsV_JrdMPWL2_SwgxEjEnA9VwfrRQ_A4sCIRnkfo969dOGdB25S-run2sPGUFlnMrDkfSDkCqJSghX0fimZjyD5GJXi4omYS2p0DL6Y/s320/Doug_Pierson_Rainier2015_5.jpg" title="Rainier Disappointment Cleaver route" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fixed Ladders on Rainier</td></tr>
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And as a result, the Seven Summits siren call continues to draw me in. <a href="http://www.summitpost.org/mount-vinson/830860" target="_blank">Vinson</a>, the highest peak in the Sentinel Range, located on the highest and most ancient of continents is exceptional for a variety of reasons. First off, getting there is a complete bitch. It's no joke that researching travel to <-> from this mountain has taken years. Several of us tried -unsuccessfully- to figure out what alternate routes existed beyond the traditional ALE/guide service path and learned one dead-end after another that if you want to climb this mountain, you really are either resigned to having some inside line with National Science Foundation or.. you go guide service. We looked at hopping Space-A on one of the Operation Deep Freeze C-17s out of JBLM Lewis-McChord, submitting for a NSF Grant, alternate charter flights.. nothing panned out that wouldn't have us abandoned on a runway somewhere in New Zealand and in the end, we fell back on guide services. <!-----><!-----><!-----><!-----><!-----><!-----><!-----><!-----><!-----><!-----><!-----><!-----><!-----><!-----></-><br />
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Fortunately, after a few trips through McKinley (that's right, I didn't mistake this and mean to call it Denali) and the Himalaya, my gear is pretty much up to speed and it didn't require much to make sure the gear list is complete and ready to roll. There's specific emphasis on cold weather gear for sure- and a series of questions/answers with experienced climbers as well as understanding what sort of creature comforts I want to haul along versus leave behind (do I bring the 8,000m down climbing suit that is super warm but weighs a ton?). There's also the training aspect- getting to the gym, hitting the trail, cardio galore, etc. Going through the <a href="http://www.mountainmadness.com/" target="_blank">Mountain Madness</a> prep guide to make sure nothing gets overlooked. Flights, on the other hand to/from Punta Arenas took some planning. The final routing goes something like this: Seattle -> Houston -> Santiago -> Punta Arenas with hours of layovers and I'm pretty sure there's a stop somewhere in between Santiago and Punta Arenas as the LAN Chile flight threads it's way down to the southernmost point of South America. <br />
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And there you have it- the blog is back alive. The trip officially begins on 23 November, but as the continued preparation unfolds there'll be more to this story. Looking forward to it, and to seeing what this next great journey has to offer.<br />
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Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-87779763115582704592011-11-07T18:02:00.000-08:002011-11-07T18:35:50.498-08:00Amadablam BoundTshering arrived yesterday as the fading light of day came past Pheriche, and we had a chance to discuss the plan from here. Essentially, he and the porters moved from Namche to Pheriche in one day- quite a haul. All our gear was still enroute to Island Peak, so he sent a runner off to chase that down and ensure it was redirected to Amadablam Base Camp, as we are out of time for a two mountain climb. This is fine.. The focus is now entirely on Amadablam and today's trip sets out from Pheriche, straight back down the mountain to connect up with Ama base camp trail. We will see a Lama on the way, getting blessed on our journey before the 2,000' push into Base Camp. Tomorrow will be a rest day- then we begin the climb in a series of altitude runs to finally summit in a few days and then launch back down the hill to Lukla and a flight out.<br /><br />We had a fun day yesterday. After a late morning, the team sat tight and played rummy for a few hours while the morning katebatics played havoc on weary trekkers and passers-by. Finally around 11, the sky was crystal clear. The air crisp and fresh, albeit thin. We headed up, up, up roughly 600' to a pass that leads to Dingboche, a town on the other side of the pass and gateway to Island Peak. On this spine in 2008, I actually went for a jog, and after an altitude run to 15,000' did exactly that again. There are a series of prayer flags and stupas that connect the ridge, so I ran along the ridge before descending down to the town for lunch. We enjoyed a leisurely meal before heading back to while away the afternoon in the Himalayan Hotel common area in style. <br /><br />No idea of a signal at Ama base camp but will try. Its mind blowing to me that Im even in range here, a two day trek from Everest when just 3 years ago I had to use a satellite receiver to connect with the world. Bonkers crazy.Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-65558687371134835112011-11-06T01:06:00.000-07:002011-11-07T18:35:23.205-08:00Decision PointInterestingly, we do in-fact have Internet way out here in the middle of the route. Its so amazing how different things are from 2008, we rolled in to Pheriche, a pioneer village of sorts that is perched at 14,000' and arrived at our hotel at a respectable 2pm today. The hotel here is definitely the best of any we have stayed at, and its relatively new.. Don't even think it was here when we cruised through last time. The trek here was uneventful in itself, a gradual 1,800' climb above the treeline and into much more of a rock-strewn dust path. The wind has definitely picked up and with a sun continuously shrouded by high clouds it is definitely biting. <br /><br />So I have definitely reached a decision point, and had to outline options just to make sense of it myself. Flights today continue to be spotty into/ out of Lukla and I'm still not linked up with Tshering. Latest word is that he will meet me in Pheriche tomorrow, but that is too late for both an Island Peak & Amadablam excursion. In a nutshell, there just plain aren't enough days to cover the distance and altitude. Its one or the other, and I'm going to make that decision once he arrives and can provide me with some route Intel. Ama is the clear favorite, but I want to hold till then and make a call. Till then though, we are holed up here and relaxing.Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-64722304431399303292011-11-05T18:43:00.000-07:002011-11-05T18:46:02.193-07:00Last day before out of rangeWeather continues to look extremely gross, but at least it's not bitter cold and despite the clouds we are all getting nice facial burns thanks to the intense UV rays found up here at over 13,000'.<br /><br />Today proved thoroughly enjoyable, we struck out frmo Namche at a respectable 9am, wandering the upper corridors and finally emerging on the trail, slowly plodding along and taking advantage of the mild temperatures to keep moving at a strong and steady pace. The guys were laughing, frequently, at my comments since a cloud bank continues to shroud the valleys. One (of several examples is: "right around this corner is one of my favorite views on this route"... to only see a mass of clouds whipping by, would be met with "yeah, thanks Doug:. :) It's all in good fun, the guys are all meshed and functioning as a well-oiled machine, critical up here. Everyone supports each other and especially cheer on good ol Mel, who actually celebrates his 71st birthday in a few weeks. That guy continues to plod along, impressing everyone with his Little-Engine-That-Could mentality.<br /><br />Along this particular portion of the route, the path drops ~1,200 feet down to the river and then in an incredible mind game, immediately rises close to 2,000 feet up to Tengbuche Monastery. Along the way we dodge cranky yaks and falling rocks, winding via the climbers path to put on altitude and shave 30 minutes off our time. We topped out and then spent close to an hour exploring the monasteryitself, snacking down on apple pie at the local bakery with Buddhist chants still fresh in our ears. The monastery is a work of art, and has been for hundreds of years. Lovingly maintained by the host of monks that live, study, and worship here, paint is fresh on even the most ornately detailed carvings and figures. Monks chop wood outside, sweep the front steps and practice a dance ritual in the inner courtyard. They are completely at ease with our presence, blurting out a toothy grinned "namaste" when they see us. While the original monastery burned down in a fire roughly 25 years ago, this reproduced version is taking on the sort of rich patina one would expect given it's location in the Himalaya. We take it all in, go grab some pie to reflect and casually talk until it's time to move on.<br /><br />One thing of note is that a vast improvement over 3 years ago: people here have mastered the art of making light, flaky breads. Gone are the heavy, doughy and tasteless breads that clump in ones stomach after forcing down... something to seriously celebrate.<br /><br />15 minutes later we arrive at Debuche and gear down. We also receive some good news: Tshering, my climbing Sherpa was able to somehow get into Lukla despite flights being grounded yet again for the 5th day. He will connect up with us tomorrow, somewhere around Pheriche. From there we carve off- weather dependent and begin the technical aspects of this trip. Unsure when the next posting will be, I hear there is no telephone signal at Island Peak as it's in the shadow of the Everest-Lhotse-Nuptse massif.Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-34080648958862222222011-11-04T19:23:00.001-07:002011-11-04T19:28:14.608-07:00Namche to DebucheAfter an interesting and event filled two days at Namche, its time to continue higher on up into the Khumbu. We relaxed here, enjoyed the high end facilities (Hotel Camp de Base is like a Namche Bazaar Hyatt) and talked about things to come. Yesterday the team did an elevation run to a local museum and the Namche Airport, stopping along the way for copious amounts of lemon tea to sustain ourselves. <br /><br />As we wandered the Namche city canyons, I was struck by how much had changed in a place where it seems like little changes. Three years ago, we didn't have a consistently hot shower here, or uninterrupted 24 hrs of electricity. There was a standard suite of bakeries, massage parlors, doctors, grocery stores and more equipment shops than you could throw a stick at. But WiFi was an unknown and now it's readily available in almost every coffee shop and restaurant. I even passed an ATM here yesterday.. Crazy how technology has advanced forward in just such a short time as even the ruggedized laptop I brought in 2008 now looks like a dinosaur when even this blog is being typed on my Windows7 phone. <br /><br />The weather continues to be of great concern. Not for the team physically, but for the Amadablam leg. All of my high altitude climbing gear is currently parked in Kathmandu along with Tshering and the soonest it looks like they will get out is Monday soonest. The low lying clouds have caused the town of Lukla to approach a state of concern as over 1,000 people mass there in an attempt to leave, and can't. Even local news is talking about it as Lukla hotels exceed capacity, food stores grow low and even water supplies dwindle. Its not a good thing down there. Up here we are fine, but I'm approaching the point where Amadablam just isn't feasible in the time window available. But it is what it is, the mountain isn't going anywhere and I'm having a complete blast with my 5 new friends. Last night we spent close to 3 hours playing a German version of Rummy that Mike (a German) stated the rules for and as a new rule popped out of the blue had us all in stitches. Got to the point where Trevor goes "well, you are wearing a black jacket and it is after 7:00, so that new rule now applies". Probably had to be there but it all made for good fun. <br /><br />So today we continue on to Debuche, a little town about 20 minutes beyond Tengboche Monastery. The most holy of Khumbu Buddhist shrines, this facility is a sight to behold. From here, roughly parked at the height of Rainier's summit we continue about 20 minutes beyond to arrive at Debuche. One of the hardest pushes of the trek will come today and a complete mind game. At the end of a long, 2 mile traverse you have cleared most forms of vegetation, green surrendering to altitude and retreating to pines, spruces and ground vegetation. It will likely snow on us today and even the hybrid Gopkyo (a cross between a Yak and Cow) used to haul loads will replace in presence with the Yak- who can't work in the lower, hotter temperatures. <br /><br />The trail moves to an overlook, where you look 2,000' down to the Dudh Kosi and green below. And then, roughly 2 miles distant, lies Tengbuche at the same altitude you are at. From here, the trail descends the full length of the drop, only to immediately climb straight back up, and over into the monastery. Coupled with the altitude it makes for quite a day. <br /><br />Not sure when I'll get the next dispatch out but from Debuche we continue on to Pheriche, where the team will rest for two days before continuing on and around to Everest Base Camp. This is where we part ways, as I move to the north, and Island Peak- a long day hike beyond. That climb will take roughly two days and then I beat feet back to Debuche and Amadablam.Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-38934625976148189012011-11-03T19:47:00.000-07:002011-11-04T19:27:55.558-07:00Namche BazaarInteresting few days to say the least. To start with from new experiences to recalling old memories. <br /><br />During a 6 hour wait at KTM, I passed time by meandering among tons of haphazardly strewn cargo, climbing gear and immensely bored passengers. In a way this wasn't all bad, as Tshering introduced me to a restaurant I had no idea existed and even spent time on the airport roof when not chased off by a band of local monkeys that took great pride in badgering people and rummaging through unattended bags. Somewhere during all this I was given a five minute alert to grab gear and head to a mini pickup that would take a team of five Americans & Canadians from Mountain Gurus to an awaiting helicopter. All great guys- fit, strong and eager- it seemed like a solid fit and in short order I had joined the team easily. We drove a short distance to the LZ and then crammed as much gear as possible into an awaiting bird before boarding ourselves, sardine-like, into the passenger compartment. With a whine of turbines and whiff of JP5, we were quickly airborne and heading north-northeast as the city disappeared beneath us.<br /><br />What appeared to be simple haze in Kathmandu quickly became foggy, pea soup clouds once airborne. Using GPS and following rivers that hug craggy, rugged valleys torn from the earth and forced skyward, our helicopter crabbed its way through passes that seemed barely wide enough for our rotor blades as the pilot waypointed his way to Lukla and an LZ that appeared no more than 30 seconds before landing. It became quickly clear that there was no way a fixed wing could safely travel to, let alone land at the worlds most dangerous airport in these conditions. Over the coming days we realized just how lucky we were to even have had this rare rotor opportunity as now everything has been grounded for five successive days with no plan to get operations moving until Monday soonest. <br /><br />After being inserted, we immediately stepped off and began our odyssey. Hot, humid and cloudy, the valley loomed above us as wisps of clouds clung to nooks and crannies, waterfalls cascading hundreds of feet and the whole experience a very Lord of the Rings feel. We continued moving about 3 hrs that day before pulling into Ghat, just beating an oncoming squall that we knew meant snow up ahead.<br /><br />The next morning, we set off over several hours for Namche Bazaar, the capital of the Khumbu Region that sits at 12,000'. The trail to this storied destination continues on through one minor village after another, up and down, one countless step after another. At times the trail passes over wire and aluminum bridges suspended hundreds of feet above the raging and milky white Dudh Kosi river, carrying mineral rich Himalayan meltwater hundreds of miles to the coast. Finally, several hours after leaving Ghat we arrive at the final bouncing and bobbing bridge before beginning the long, 1,500' slog up, up, up on the final push into Namche. Sweat streaming and lungs aching I find it funny to look over to a local Nepali teenage girl who is ambling along at the same pace, in lime green & pink sneakers while chatting away on her cellphone to someone.. Either a boy, or one of her friends about a boy. Completely fine and not at all out of breath it makes me impressed yet again at how people here are completely adapted to this environment. <br /><br />Finally we arrive into Namche and are awash in the sights, sounds and smells of this little horseshoe shaped, cliffside city that bustles with activity. Within 30 minutes we bump into a Nepali woman who lived in NY before marrying a Sherpa and moved here, from Queens, to Namche Bazaar. Talk about an adjustment. She tells us that she did the hike from Lukla once, and will never do it again.. So it's strictly air for her going to <-> Kathmandu. None of us can blame her. <br /><br />After meandering the endless corridors of shoppettes and restaurants we arrive at our hotel- the top end Hotel Camp de Base. This place is like a lap of luxury and its a great score to stay here. Hot showers, comfy beds and good grub await as we acclimatize over the coming days. The team relaxes in, has dinner and chats away about things to come. They are all great guys- three from the US: California fire fighter, an inspirational speaker from Commack NY and a Professor from Colorado. Two are in construction and hail from Alberta Canada although one is of German descent. I love these sort of teams as it keeps things real and enjoyable. <br /><br />Off to bed for an enjoyable and relaxing night sleep of funky, high altitude dreams!Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-53541704348557067962011-11-01T03:38:00.000-07:002011-11-01T09:00:19.225-07:00CoordinationWoke up after a restless sleep, walked through my gear and stared at the ceiling for a few hours before the sound of Kathmandu city street noise forced me from bed and down to a vacant breakfast hall where I sat tight until 9am, when I was able to link up with the guys all climb logistics are being coordinated through. This conversation went smoothly enough, and was introduced to Tenjing, my climbing Sherpa. As it turns out he and I were on Everest together in 2008 when he climbed with an adjacent Spanish team and recently returned from Manaslu- another 8,000m peak and the 8th highest in the world. All told, seems like a great guy and I know we'll have fun together. <br /><br />Did bump into Willie and Damian Benegas in Hotel Yak & Yeti- Damian has just returned from Amadablam and Willie was leading a film team on Everest, so it was a bit of a reunion in the Yak & Yeti lobby coupled with some real good route intelligence in what turned into an hour long catch-up. Damian's recommendation, which I will definitely be following is to acclimatize on Island Peak, then make a fast strike on Amadablam when we can find a window of opportunity. <br /><br />Rest of the day was hectic in a way- time just whiled away downtown and in the Thamel corridors as lunchtime came and went.. and then dinner did the same. Final packing of equipment into separate gear bags (one for Ama, one for Island Peak, one to accompany the trek in) and then it's off to bed for a last night sleep before things get uncomfortable for a few weeks. Next post from Namche Bazaar, the capital of the Khumbu Region.Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-83741980694464322552011-10-31T19:02:00.000-07:002011-11-01T03:37:27.201-07:00Feet Dry- KathmanduArrived Kathmandu yesterday and was immediately struck by how temperate it is here. Was a bit curious about how late October would be striking this country, given that as a sign of things to come both New York and Seattle have been slammed by snowstorms (before Halloween?!) yet days remain mild, sunny and with a strong sun. Initial reports are of a Himalaya chock full of expeditions, implying a solid climb season.<br /><br />I was immediately bathed in now familiar sights: Tribhuvan International Airports crumbly taxiway, long lines at the visa queue, a dimly lit baggage claim area that instantly reminds me of my first visit in 2001. The note of interest is that with time and successive visits, one learns how to streamline the massive amount of time (and money) this process can take if not aware of the upcoming pitfalls. Plenty of folks here, from the 4 visa processors who, if given the window of opportunity will proceed to take 20 minutes of q&a before admitting you. Or, the fleet of 'porters' who follow you to a car like a gnat cloud and then ask for payment. Once its clear one knows the ropes, this process takes 1/10 the time and 1/10 the money. <br /><br />Kathmandu remains a time capsule in itself and nothing has changed. Progress is slow, but I'm thrilled that a 6.8 earthquake did little to no damage. Stunning in a way given that everything here seems constructed of mud and brick but apparently the epicenter was somewhere in India. Given that the Himalaya consistently rise as the India subcontinent slams into Asia, it does seem like just a matter of time. However, for now everything continues to tick along Nepali style. No tv, no phone. My laptop power converter died immediately on plugging in, thanks to a generator surge. My phone battery died. No ATMs are working w/in a 10 block radius of the hotel, meaning that I cant pick up a new converter to charge either laptop or phone in the immediate future. But in a land full of ear-to-ear smiles, this just doesn't matter, and if you talk about work stress, it is met by a meaningful and quizzical gaze. <br /><br />It didn't take me more than 2 minutes at Hotel Courtyard (where I always stay) to connect up with good friends. The people who run this amazing hotel smack in the center of Kathmandu put rooms aside for familiar returnees, and climbers have special flexibility as they completely understand the challenges of targeting occupancy dates based on weather and climb variance. I can go on and on about this special oasis right in the center of Thamel District, its a wonderful place. As we reconnect, the phone starts ringing and both climbing friends and locals start checking in. I immediately reconnect with one of my closest friends here who has summited Everest twice (we actually met on the mountain in 2008) and is one of the most genuine people I know. <br /><br />The afternoon turns into a series of tag-team presentations on Everest and an Australian beef BBQ on the hotels patio before this caffeine addled camper finally surrendered and passed out for the night.Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-45640235088297266472011-10-30T19:03:00.000-07:002011-10-30T19:31:51.336-07:00One Night in BangkokCouldn't help the cliche'.. just too great. <br /><br />Landed close to midnight into Bangkok's new and ultramodern Suvarnabhumi International Airport and made my way downtown, struggling with a taxi driver doing his best to separate me from my money. Fortunately, good friends at United were kind enough to check my bags from Narita straight through to Kathmandu on today's Thai flight.. meaning I was spared the challenge of hauling 150 lbs of climbing gear through subtropical swamp weather. Does mean I'm wearing the same clothes that I left Seattle in 3 days ago, but it is what it is & doubt anyone notices.<br /><br />It has been interesting to note all the sensationalizing going on in the media when it comes to what is going on downtown. <a href="http://edition.cnn.com/2011/10/30/world/asia/thailand-flood/index.html">Stories abound on flooding</a>, and while the elevated highways here are definitely jam packed with parked cars for storage above the water, the main portion of the city remains bone dry. This did make the hotel decision a complete crap shoot though.. get one and risk getting marooned? Hop from lounge to lounge and grab some tile during the wee hours? Fortunately the gamble paid off and instead of feeling like something the cat dragged in, I feel relatively well rested.<br /><br />The lack of flooding is definitely a good thing, especially for this low-lying city that sees water as it's life-blood. Given the warnings of record flood waters raging down the Chaopraya River mashing with seasonal high tides, the Shinawatra government here- considered inexperienced and quite cavalier when it came to flood preparedness- seems to have dodged a bullet. The sky is crisp and clear and no rain in the foreseeable forecast so perhaps things here will return to normal in a few days. Without a doubt this will be a thing of the past by the time I'm routing back through in ~2 weeks. <br /><br />Airport is still a zoo, but that's to be considered since a bajillion locals are camping out here rather than grab a hotel. On to Kathmandu, flight departs in an hour.Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-68173859562609748692011-10-30T01:14:00.000-07:002011-10-30T01:41:52.000-07:00Narita layoverThanks to Thailand's flooding, I found myself both without a hotel in Bangkok to park at and with a major question as to whether I'd make my connecting flight from BKK to Kathmandu on the 31st. As a result when the opportunity to hold for a day in Japan came up I jumped at the opportunity. Much rather be delayed in Japan than on a marble floor surrounded by 150 pounds of climbing gear in the Suvarnabhumi lobby with one eye open and fingers crossed that flood waters wouldn't encroach on both of Bankok's airports. <br /><br />It has been here that I did notice a few parallels between 2008 and this trip. For starters, a layover in another city enroute to Nepal. Great for getting the mind off of things, ease into the shock of jetlag and enjoy the trip along the way. Sure, I want to get there and get going on the climb. But on these sort of expeditions I'm also all about smelling the roses as well. Delicious Yakiniku for dinner, sushi at Narita's Gate 34 and a relaxing day all coupled into a wonderful transition from the last month's batty and chaotic day-to-day activities where I even found the fact that my cell didn't connect to be thoroughly enjoyable.<br /><br />Interestingly, the time spent in Narita is well worth it, especially considering the new aviation events occurring as of late. In 2008, Dad and I were fortunate enough <a href="http://landtarget.blogspot.com/2008/06/singapore-i.html">to see the world's first Airbus A380 when we landed</a> at Singapore's Changi International Airport. Sure, A380s are becoming more commonplace globally. But as of last week, the world's first Boeing 787 Dreamliner was put into service with Japan's All Nippon Airways. Today, this 787 paraded proudly down the taxiways for all to see, and immediately following that was a Singapore Airlines A380. Novel and hokey, but all told I'll consider that a good omen. :)<br /><br />Off to Bangkok, where it seems that the flood waters have spared the city from what could have been an extremely bad scene.Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-26867548737317173312011-10-29T23:31:00.000-07:002011-10-30T01:11:44.056-07:00The Next Himalayan ChapterSurprising how fast three years can zip by when you aren't paying attention. When I left the <a href="http://landtarget.blogspot.com/2008/05/summit-push-21-may-team-summits.html">Himalayas in May of 2008</a>, I was convinced that this unique part of the world- a mecca for climbers looking to sharpen their teeth on mountains unlike anywhere else on earth- would be a recurring zone for me. In some ways, it has been- and continues to be. Friendships that I had made years ago continue to flourish and grow. Thanks to social networking tools such as Facebook and email, communications are much easier to maintain. Other climbing friends have returned, time and time again to tackle the far-off peaks whose names now dribble off the tongue with ease. It really has been an interesting few years in this light to say the least, only the path that I have followed to get here is not nearly the one that I had expected it to be. Not really a surprise, that's the way I have found it to always be and life's plan rarely ever gives one hints on what lays in store. <br /><br />Over the past three years I have been back to Nepal several times now. Perhaps this is because to me, Nepal has always been and continues to be one of the singlemost places where I feel like my spirit is truly free. The cares of the world drift away. Time stops. Earthy and sky colors take on hues unlike anywhere else on the planet. The streets of Kathmandu echo with laughter intertwined with Buddhist chants and the clatter of cyclos. I relish every minute here and thoroughly enjoy how enriched I feel zen-wise after just a few days. <br /><br />I look back on these trips fondly, and appreciate that almost all memories include someone who I was able to share them with- no matter how unique. This includes a return into the depths of Bardia National Forest to look for the elusive Bengal Tiger, only this time on foot and not from the protective height of an elephant's back. In 2008, Dad and I spent <a href="http://landtarget.blogspot.com/2008/06/karnali-lodge-bardia-nationalpark.html">24 hours on the back of elephants</a> hunting through 10' high grass to see a tiger for 2 seconds. What can only be described as a mishmash of adrenaline, boredom, intrigue and physical discomfort to see one of nature's most rare and beautiful of creatures in it's natural habitat truly does disservice to the experience, as it is one of Dad's and my highlight adventures together and I wouldn't trade it for the world. But what amazes me is that I managed to make it back there. The country of Nepal is as remote as it gets, and Bardia is a day's travel from Kathmandu. So to have the immense fortune to return, and to have friends that actually work and live there, dedicating their careers to protecting Nepal's wildlife is incredibly special. To drop off an elephant, enter the food chain and wander the forest in search of creatures who had killed and eaten our guides father in the mid-80's is a bit insane. But, exciting nonetheless. <br /><br />So this may explain why this time around, for this particular climb on Amadablam (22,300') isn't as full of chaos and wonderment as the 2008 Everest climb was. I know people there, from the Sherpas who I'll be climbing alongside, the team administrators who are pulling together permits and back-end logistics, the dear and close friends who I consider brothers & am now tied in with their businesses- tourism, hotels, wildlife. Nepal, to me is a nation fill of warm-spirited, smiling people whose hearts are bursting from their chests. I am fully confident that in reaching Kathmandu, the portions of the trip not fully in-place will take form quickly as typically is the case there. All my gear is packed and in the belly of a 777 bound for Thailand and I'm excited to just get boots to trail and set off for base camp. <br /><br />I left Seattle yesterday after one of the most chaotic and time intensive months I have spent in a job. Microsoft is now completing it's annual Giving Campaign (a monthlong period where people give back to their community through donations, volunteer hours and events designed to bring attention to charities and causes) and having been heavily caught up in that, my ability to do things like pack for Amadablam distilled down into a 3 hour whirlwind of activity the night before I flew, and the day of travel. <br /><br />Before I knew it, the time had come to leave for Sea-Tac and the last of the packing was complete. Then I winged it off to Japan, and the first leg of this new adventure was underway.Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-27806513677716001192010-11-02T13:05:00.000-07:002010-11-02T19:54:42.091-07:00Egyptian Museum- Cairo<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMfK1ZcsgD8IO_B0cmna5w-973GkzAOHhrJeBcpPBRjtUr2q8hM0JOmfh6oJmi5m2_XTiYVkFTFdt9LOZXyFJHjNn4RFWK73T4hY6A_2La5sicIB7QKmSwxpPPVl4lnl3iStr7uwVCmec/s1600/Doug_Pierson_King+Tut.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535083742169581730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMfK1ZcsgD8IO_B0cmna5w-973GkzAOHhrJeBcpPBRjtUr2q8hM0JOmfh6oJmi5m2_XTiYVkFTFdt9LOZXyFJHjNn4RFWK73T4hY6A_2La5sicIB7QKmSwxpPPVl4lnl3iStr7uwVCmec/s400/Doug_Pierson_King+Tut.JPG" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Located in central Cairo's Tahrir Square, the Egyptian Museum is a treasure trove of antiquities and a must see when visiting this sprawling, historic and culturally dynamic city. So when the opportunity presented itself to visit this museum, our team jumped at the chance despite the challenges. And by challenges, I mean that from the Cairo Hilton, we had to navigate a phalanx of guards, maze of concrete barricades, pesky street hawkers, and gypsy taxi drivers. This, followed immediately by a hair raising game of real-life Cairo Frogger. Drivers here are keenly interested in demonstrating how close they can come to side swiping jaywalkers at high rates of speed while not actually connecting. The whole trip from hotel to museum takes a hectic ten minutes. Between Jon, Chris and I this involves five near-death experiences, fifty extremely loud curses and twenty grey hairs. Finally, we arrive in a sweaty, frazzled cluster at the main gate of the Egyptian Museum. There, we buy a foreign ticket for ten times as much as the local equivalent and swat off another locust wave of inistent street vendors before safely making the confines of the museum grounds.<br /><br /></div></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM-anJ8cif17VVfHqiNkbhVWhqvZeiJ7-VKHg6hHfyqDMAaTcuBtuVt6bElPdkKIG1VPaEsp-p4UgSUuh6jgk_PcmD7aJNdtQHOK4Ytf0nXG3XUXhrUyHOa9UoJ6jlygFaC7TBvIKp05A/s1600/Doug_Pierson_Cairo+Streets.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 262px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535080666926281698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM-anJ8cif17VVfHqiNkbhVWhqvZeiJ7-VKHg6hHfyqDMAaTcuBtuVt6bElPdkKIG1VPaEsp-p4UgSUuh6jgk_PcmD7aJNdtQHOK4Ytf0nXG3XUXhrUyHOa9UoJ6jlygFaC7TBvIKp05A/s400/Doug_Pierson_Cairo+Streets.JPG" /></a> <div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></div></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYBnPbjo-EOu2sWjg0Xh7QCD_amXBhzv7X1NjiQkqbPmPM7Wqf5Cn13RWshqtIlzXCkuf4Cfp_XLSSgwrAN6VLwE3T22D_hulV0wMU9IduY2rJphKr1NGtgOojRRsxD8qNPHwckqSHA60/s1600/Egyptian+Museum.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535080032940586770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYBnPbjo-EOu2sWjg0Xh7QCD_amXBhzv7X1NjiQkqbPmPM7Wqf5Cn13RWshqtIlzXCkuf4Cfp_XLSSgwrAN6VLwE3T22D_hulV0wMU9IduY2rJphKr1NGtgOojRRsxD8qNPHwckqSHA60/s400/Egyptian+Museum.JPG" /></a><br />After passing the main gate, we find ourselves immediately sucked in to taking pictures of this crazy sphinx-like statue and other unique objects dotting the property. Snapping away, I was so mesmerized with these sculptures that I didn't even notice Jon and Chris talking with a dour, mopey-faced and poor postured middle-aged tour guide named Mohammed. By the time I do see what is happening and run over, it's all but too late.<br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">"If you do not like my tour my friends, I do not deserve payment." </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> hesitate, unconvinced. </span><span style="font-family:arial;">Jon and Chris do not. "Let's do it! It'll be fun!" </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">"Yeah. Great." As the only one of the three with Egyptian cash, my gut feeling, the knowing smirks on Jon's and Chris' faces and their snickers all point to me inheriting the responsibility of paying for Mohammed once we are through. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />At the very least though, I figured that this cartoon character of a tour guide with close resemblance to Sad-Sack could at least walk us through the museum and explain in detail what objects we were looking at when we asked. But now, months later while reflecting on this experience, I wonder if it was actually Mohammed who got more than he bargained for. How many times would he regret approaching us in the courtyard? Did he end up as stressed in dealing with us as we did in crossing that insane street? In retrospect, he likely earned every Egyptian Dinar that we paid him.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzIDmBIqVPWVLNMvvFItjfjDfDlcLEnm3wI8f-jtngAamZzIst1nlXSHN1_YZSYBErTjO3FcXxAwAPfeEjbEJhcwpPSu9Dn5xxv-wU5NOXJ8S_vJ6t1M2bQhF6yCvx0YytoWSJ69eyd5Q/s1600/Egyptian+Museum+Monoliths.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535079528570980386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzIDmBIqVPWVLNMvvFItjfjDfDlcLEnm3wI8f-jtngAamZzIst1nlXSHN1_YZSYBErTjO3FcXxAwAPfeEjbEJhcwpPSu9Dn5xxv-wU5NOXJ8S_vJ6t1M2bQhF6yCvx0YytoWSJ69eyd5Q/s400/Egyptian+Museum+Monoliths.JPG" /></a><br />Walking in to the Museum is quite literally like a scene out of an Indiana Jones movie. The doors open. A breath of partially stale, cool air blows past us. An endless waves of three thousand year old statues in countless shapes, colors, forms and sizes designed to replicate Egyptian gods like Horus and Isis stretch as far as the eye can see. Our awestruck, speechless excitement only extends for a few minutes before a slew of questions come to mind. And that, is when we finally accept that Mohammed isn't a top shelf guide. Or even a basic guide. A guide, but that's about it. Above average English skills don't translate to above average museum history knowledge and while this building is quite literally chock-full of statues, scrolls, carvings and canopic jars from the time of the Pharoahs, we only stop at a fraction of these. Whizzing by dozens of others with no explanation, the ones we do stop at only generate extremely high level details.<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><div><div>At one point, we arrive at a giant marble sarcophagus that sits adjacent to an embalming table. "This my friends is the great sarcophagus of Tutmoses the 3rd who ruled from 2000 to 1970 BC and was found in a..."<br /><br />I get distracted by something else next to where we are standing: "Hey Mohammed, is this an embalming table that was used to prepare mummies?"<br /><br />"Yes..."<br /><br />"Is this notch on the side to allow fluids to drain and a body to firm up while resting on natron?"<br /><br />"Yes..." Pregnant pause followed by a funny look. Anything more? Any more details on this table that we could get? What secrets could Mohammed unlock for us and give us his knowledge into the minds-eye of Ancient Egypt life, culture and secret rituals?<br /><br />"This my friends is the great sarcophagus of Tutmoses the 3rd who ruled from 2000 to 1970 BC and was found in a..."<br /><br />Mohammed drones on and repeats exactly word-for-word what was clearly a memorized blurb for each highlighted item that he had remembered. After a few stops, we end up at this little side area that has a bunch of pets that were mummified. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">"Hey Mohammed! Is that a falcon mummy??" Next to a neatly bundled, 10 inch long blob that is clearly a bird wrapped in gauze sits an index card with "mummified falcon" written on it.<br /><br />"Yes..."<br /><br />We are in the middle of receiving a rambling, memorized and fairly boring explanation of these little mummies when Chris looks over on the far wall and excitedly yells out "NO WAY!!" Jon and I spin around and burst out laughing. As we all know, Heiroglyphs are the ancient Eqyptian written language. A series of characatures and defined symbols that died out with the age of Cleopatra and weren't understood again until 1799 when the Roseatta Stone was discovered, each symbol stands for something. Largely, the symbol is cartoonish and speaks for itself based on what the image represents via an action drawing. But we wonder aloud with tears in our eyes if this particular Heiroglyph was drawn as an Ancient Egyptian sense of humor. What's that guy in the middle doing?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQHd3Uiy4apPFIIrd3iy9EsMD0Z0Pzehcsy2RavFgLQa3_Q99X-BEIwAw71wOFCxssFBwNX6xEQz6bMt5tczeLSLTC2zVYkZLXgD2Zs4fG88tPFfoFC4qLRyXw8VRQX_pWeKzTp2u3ljI/s1600/Doug_Pierson_Egyptian+Museum_Heiroglyph+2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 261px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535070476982019378" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQHd3Uiy4apPFIIrd3iy9EsMD0Z0Pzehcsy2RavFgLQa3_Q99X-BEIwAw71wOFCxssFBwNX6xEQz6bMt5tczeLSLTC2zVYkZLXgD2Zs4fG88tPFfoFC4qLRyXw8VRQX_pWeKzTp2u3ljI/s400/Doug_Pierson_Egyptian+Museum_Heiroglyph+2.jpg" /></a><br /><div>After taking a few covert pictures next to the hundredth "No Photographs" sign we pass, Mohammed stops. He looks at us for a long second. Then he says: "My friends, I just want you to know that while photos are strictly not allowed in the museum, I do not personally mind. The only thing I want you to understand is that if anyone stops you.. I did not have anything to do with it, or know you were taking photos." Score! We begin to happily snap away with abandon.<br /><br />We soon end up at the "Royal Mummies Room"- aptly named for the great Pharoahs of old that have been yanked from their rocky tombs and are now on naked display here in casings closely controlled for special temperature and humidity settings. Some of the names are impressive- Ramses III, Queen Hatshepsut, Amenhotep IV. As we slowly meander around the room taking occasional pictures, Chris' cell rings. "Hello?" It's his wife, and he proceeds to tell her all about our day while leaning directly over, and three feet away from the face of a motionless and 2,500 year old Ramses. The two proceed to talk on and on as if he is staring at a computer screen, not the mummified face of one of the leading rulers of Ancient Egypt.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj78kP67TO8EYkaBuT78KtStaxx4y7Kk9jtAVsWA5v2hVqjnqEu-Lj5GPC10AwXGbYg8Xeye84xLDLbEgNbPzWmym8gQFh0jDN63n_63YhOLBR-vnjbHuR03CaSWaxXmt8lFnUGa13iFVo/s1600/Mummy+Room.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 263px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535078551347295730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj78kP67TO8EYkaBuT78KtStaxx4y7Kk9jtAVsWA5v2hVqjnqEu-Lj5GPC10AwXGbYg8Xeye84xLDLbEgNbPzWmym8gQFh0jDN63n_63YhOLBR-vnjbHuR03CaSWaxXmt8lFnUGa13iFVo/s400/Mummy+Room.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn7YK29uuKVCIzrqHgOXANVAOCDKuFDwCrSnNJTUQSiRaa5uPV2rN_ibnpZLIJ5sD68Bx-sBe2mrcnt7aDJtwUe5ZAjXtG5xw-_0nGUFpCDRmCTwILFUv8dBPfDWOlydR3A0K8uy-Esvs/s1600/Ramses+the+III+in+Royal+Mummy+Room+Egyptian+Museum.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535078165032674274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn7YK29uuKVCIzrqHgOXANVAOCDKuFDwCrSnNJTUQSiRaa5uPV2rN_ibnpZLIJ5sD68Bx-sBe2mrcnt7aDJtwUe5ZAjXtG5xw-_0nGUFpCDRmCTwILFUv8dBPfDWOlydR3A0K8uy-Esvs/s400/Ramses+the+III+in+Royal+Mummy+Room+Egyptian+Museum.JPG" /></a> <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535078829494872722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiydKfCEgNy_awBn8z-xc_fkB-vvmQmlU_Fmy6SM58ts7fjcYqrM_9w0dtzyhbwvRY-39chjaZEhy1KYsKX-mE4hFBKH59Y5Aqo4fJeBsfKyCns8DsCuLo8XOEJtPlgIWKAb6H9ttdPrPU/s400/DSC05811.JPG" /><br /><div><div><div>Then it hit me. Imagine going back in time to 1160 BC or so. Ramses the III is alive and well. The second Pharaoh of the Twentieth Dynasty, he has reigned for 25 years and during that time has expelled several foreign invaders, survived assassination attempts, led his people through famine, floods and economic hardships. In the eyes of his adoring people, he is considered a Living God. As a time traveller dressed in strange clothes, you tell Ramses this: In 3170 years, your shriveled body will be on display. Not in the tomb that you believe is your final resting place in Valley of the Kings, but in a strange building that will reside in a city that does not yet exist, near then present Memphis. Not the one in Tennessee. This new city, to be named Cairo, will go on to become the grand capital of the nation that his Empire laid the groundwork for.<br /><br />One day, a group will arrive at this buiding, having come from beyond the oceans and where the sun hides at night. Even if Ramses wants to go where they are from, he would not be able to. It would take many, many years and require machines that are beyond his knowledge and comprehension, traveling through the air at tremendous speeds. They will have magic tools, too. Created out of new, strange substances these small, hand-held tools will glow from within. They will make strange noises, and the traveller who holds it will press a button. Immediately, he will be able to talk with his wife who lives across the world and in a strange, unrecognizable language. A transparent shield will keep these travellers from touching you in the box you are stored in, but they will still be able to see every part of you. While the travellers are staring down at your body, the one with the magic tool will ask his wife about how his son is doing and the plan to board another machine the next day to travel by air only 45 minutes down to Luxor, which typically takes a week via the Nile.<br /><br />I tell you, it would be mind-blowing. I tell Chris about this and we both laugh. Mohammed grumbles something inaudible and mopes. Time to move on.<br /><br />We continue deeper into the bowels of the Egyptian Museum. Passing wing upon wing of ancient pots, jars, figurines and carvings, it's easy to go into sensory overload. Books, scrolls and other parchment are stacked like dusty cord-wood next to shelves quite literally overflowing with three thousand year old stone dieties. All of this is so abundant that after the fifth wing, it all literally blends in to the background. There appears to be little organization here, although that's undoubtedly just to the naked eye. More likely, it's due to the fact that in a concentrated area of over five thousand years of unique and accessible history, there is just so much to be shown that it has to go somewhere. Five thousand! Five thousand. It's mind blowing. And as if that's not enough, we haven't even yet gotten to the masterpiece of the museum. Quite possibly one of the most archaeologically significant finds of history. One that's announcement spread across the world with electric speed, catapaulted the finder to worldwide fame and was so unique in it's treasure and historic value, that it transformed the way anthropologists understood the Ancient Egyptians forever.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKgVQmwwRPS4nkwIVs7fgCBXKPQN7AXdtfGyWlQXCFfmMlVCk5u7ZMLij5r5M3RyNHn9_86-W3-8uVEzXiWHWDuV0J05hxi07N0HJ-KtuR7mNlC8ep0p1XTxqPfIEnYF3Yjm6VFmIfxUs/s1600/Tut+Wing.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535077458286621618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKgVQmwwRPS4nkwIVs7fgCBXKPQN7AXdtfGyWlQXCFfmMlVCk5u7ZMLij5r5M3RyNHn9_86-W3-8uVEzXiWHWDuV0J05hxi07N0HJ-KtuR7mNlC8ep0p1XTxqPfIEnYF3Yjm6VFmIfxUs/s400/Tut+Wing.JPG" /></a><br /><div>The Tutankhamun Wing is absolutely underwhelming at first blush. Tut treasures that were unearthed back in the 1920s look to be in the original display cases that Howard Carter plopped them in. Single pane glass connected with rickety wood frames stressed by decades of temperature and humidity extremes, they seem to barely hold their priceless content intact. The contrasts are stunning, actually. In many circles, the Tutankhamun treasure is hailed as the top discovery of all time- the only thing to top it would be discovering, say, the Holy Grail. Yet right here before our eyes and in plain view are ornate and intricate contents befitting a pharoah- throne chairs, urns, chariots, pikes. All haphazardly displayed in a side wing desperately in need of renovation and protected only by nominal security. </div><div><br />In the grand scheme of things, Tut was a minor pharoah that died early in life and in his reign. His tomb in Valley of the Kings is overshadowed by much larger and more ornate ones and seems more like a broom closet than anything- three smallish rooms hastily carved out of bedrock that quickly erased off the contemporary map and the sands of time. Despite that, it's stunning how much was packed to the gills in these three minor chambers, and it all becomes evident in this museum where much of the 5,000 items are now on display. Much like what Howard Carter and his team unearthed in 1922, the further you travel down the Tut wing here, the more elaborate and amazing the items become. Painted wood items turn to metal. Metal turns to gold. Canopic jars turn to sarcophagus boxes, erected in a way very similar to matrushka dolls where Tut's remains were sealed in no fewer than ten gold, stone and wood protective boxes. </div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhodtF2CeaFBUG4vES2bbFsJiUFyfCkNysO9eU4BArb1DFBuxoErDDenlmtkem8l_zPLLJLJfWLeIXcumvNi4hbHeeD5us1Y3Zn4f3NdDc2kThS3jG_e_7AcRpJ6m2dIXWbsr5rZdo5i88/s1600/DSC05814.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 280px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535076613360773138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhodtF2CeaFBUG4vES2bbFsJiUFyfCkNysO9eU4BArb1DFBuxoErDDenlmtkem8l_zPLLJLJfWLeIXcumvNi4hbHeeD5us1Y3Zn4f3NdDc2kThS3jG_e_7AcRpJ6m2dIXWbsr5rZdo5i88/s400/DSC05814.JPG" /></a><br /><div>Finally, we arrive at the treasure room- the inner sanctum of eye-popping, solid gold artifacts from Tut's reign. This room is dramatically different from we had passed through to get here. Restricted access. Cameras everywhere to protect the stunning contents. Bulletproof glass and a state of the art security system. On the wall before entering is another big, fat, bold sign in three languages reminding visitors that really, under no circumstances, are any photos allowed.<br /><br />Solid cases that ring the room house carefully displayed gold amulets, knives and figurines which glitter and sparkle. At one side, two seven foot long, solid gold sarcophagus with inlaid stone and intricately shaped designs dedicated to the pharoah himself are made visible from all sides. </div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj36O8gJda8_Dl_Vjot-7IVWphxP7ziIFuRoi05UZELuHsU8GrTUaaaTqNQl3TRrvuRZcIl_zW0k50SXysi74R0_0q7wuEX0x5XdAQqG4PMTFArXqiu_ESELzQWxO1j2rh3nRCLJguXP1w/s1600/Tut+Sarcophagus.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535071589436373058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj36O8gJda8_Dl_Vjot-7IVWphxP7ziIFuRoi05UZELuHsU8GrTUaaaTqNQl3TRrvuRZcIl_zW0k50SXysi74R0_0q7wuEX0x5XdAQqG4PMTFArXqiu_ESELzQWxO1j2rh3nRCLJguXP1w/s400/Tut+Sarcophagus.JPG" /></a><br /><div>There, in the center of the room, is perched one of the most famous and recognizable works of art known to man- the glistening solid gold head mask of Tutankhamun. Lovingly shaped and formed from one piece of 24 karat gold, the burial mask which protected the head and shoulders of Tut as he traveled through the underworld for over 2,400 years is also accessible from all sides. The last time I saw this mask with my own eyes was in 1979 when the Tut treasure traveled through several select cities on a sold out tour in the United States. Our family went in to New York City to excitedly stand on a long bread line so we could catch a fleeting glance of the iconic head mask. In 17 weeks, 1.8 million people crushed together in the Metropolitan Museum of Art to take a look. It was a vastly different experience from what we found in Cairo. Here, no more than five others are even in the entire wing. What a stark contrast.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdE6jJygeov30S7lJsqk9GH_uMVOhq-PWLz1YSm-Z_ycSad_KNGou2j0cZ7zt5XV6Qi37Z8PQIw4J3wKAf2BqK2MO01LQ2RNUM5EKbdj5RC-IyRJsO8isv_qYxLNAUsTovbRVY9BpiCMA/s1600/King+Tut+treasure+room.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535071987880653330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdE6jJygeov30S7lJsqk9GH_uMVOhq-PWLz1YSm-Z_ycSad_KNGou2j0cZ7zt5XV6Qi37Z8PQIw4J3wKAf2BqK2MO01LQ2RNUM5EKbdj5RC-IyRJsO8isv_qYxLNAUsTovbRVY9BpiCMA/s400/King+Tut+treasure+room.JPG" /></a><br /><div>I start taking stealth pictures from the hip. Given the abundance of security cameras here and others in the room, it seemed better to show at least some discretion. Mohammed knows we are going to go for it, and probably for that reason decided to stay outside the treasure room. If we got into trouble, at least he can claim plausible deniability. Some turn out, most don't. But I definitely want to get some pics of this room and it's content so I continue to snap away. Out of the corner of his eye, Chris sees me and walks over.<br /><br />"Whatcha doing?"<br /><br />"Taking pictures"<br /><br />"From the hip? Here give me that" and takes my point & shoot. Chris then walks right up to Tut's head mask and from a foot away, holds the camera out at arms length and takes a picture. I'm expecting some sort of security team to immediately descend on us, an alarm to go off, an intercom to scream to life. At the very least catch some sort of serious ass chewing from another museum-goer. Nothing.. just silence.<br /><br />"No way, that's freaking awesome" I say. With that, all three of us spread out and embark on picture taking across the treasure room with glee. The main focus of effort, of course is the head mask.<br /><br />We take pictures of each other and together as we branch out across the room. A good five minutes later Chris pulls me aside and says "hey, get a picture of me behind the head mask."<br /><br />"Sure." It comes out great.<br /><br />"Dang that picture looks really cool. Ok, my turn- get the same one of me" I say. While I'm handing the camera over to Chris, we hear an extremely loud, authoritative and really, really angry voice:<br /><br />"HEY!!!!''<br /><br />Zoinks!! We look over to the doorway and see a team of guards walking extremely fast. Like.. MOVING. One is holding a walkie talkie and pointing at me with an extended arm and a really, really pissed look on his face. Eeep! I press down on the shutter button about ten times to take pictures of my leg, the floor and some side cases. Jon, who is on the other side of the room looks on wide-eyed and steers clear of Chris and I. Mohammed disappears initially, then peeks his head in like a "Kilroy Wuz Here" cartoon drawing after the four stream by.<br /><br />The guards surround us. "NO PHOTOS!" the lead guard almost yells with spit coming out, jugular bulging, eyes piercing angrily. </div><div></div><div></div><div>"Oh, really? We didn't know. So sorry."<br /><br />"Delete them now." The guard points at my camera quickly and firmly instructs.<br /><br />"Ok, no problem. But this camera isn't very good, I'll show you." With that, I show him the first blurry and grainy hip-shot picture that pops onto the screen. The guard becomes much more relaxed. I delete it, and the next blurry shot of the museum floor pops onto the screen.<br /><br />"Ok my friend. Do not take any pictures in this museum. It is not allowed." He softens his approach. The guards spin around on their heels and begin to walk away. We apologize again. Jon begins to laugh. We still have the pictures, and somehow are still allowed to stay in the treasure room, surrounded by all the priceless objects we have just been liberally photographing.<br />Mohammed is waiting for us outside the treasure room. He shakes his head and mutters something as we move on. I jam the camera deep into my pocket and don't take it out again. I want to make sure we get out with both my camera and these amazing pictures. We talk about all of the unique things we have seen in this museum and how close a call we just had.<br /><br />"Hey Mohammed, do you think the inside of an Egyptian jail looks like the inside of King Tut's tomb?<br /><br />"Yes.."<br /><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJCho92ZKmhFbM071SsBNS3UXUi5BRnlpBxLbvBuQGxHwEC-aanmYIgSzwmMcXRRmZKNEp2p3T9YGZXuR-zkSQaGCQ5qWmePN1yqyBBZL6kMNvKgWrx1bxni_8QNDm2l3kYNDdDmIcb6M/s1600/Doug_Pierson_King+Tut+Mask.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 331px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535070198531427394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJCho92ZKmhFbM071SsBNS3UXUi5BRnlpBxLbvBuQGxHwEC-aanmYIgSzwmMcXRRmZKNEp2p3T9YGZXuR-zkSQaGCQ5qWmePN1yqyBBZL6kMNvKgWrx1bxni_8QNDm2l3kYNDdDmIcb6M/s400/Doug_Pierson_King+Tut+Mask.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>Back to Main Page: <a href="http://www.landtarget.blogspot.com/">http://www.landtarget.blogspot.com/</a></span></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-82651182154279693932010-08-21T16:54:00.001-07:002010-09-03T13:48:51.747-07:0038th Parallel: Korea Demilitarized Zone<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOK45Rfy7agIooQQvMMztzuci0nZ0QoI2M_UMSDSewDjiX6yQZn0IpXu7ARKVObdEIBa_KH8FHRJdGRqK00uJKJZPmHeoEQRbsJVPpJkO0X6Eog45wHWEIIzKqMId4AjYPlqRREQvJeB0/s1600/Doug_Pierson_Panminjom_DPRK+Soldier.JPG"></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512213141026241698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5N21ibcFkXIf-JhyxSWKjy-g69IhW1LdWbLJtyIOa48TwfFKF-gl2bHljtpenMhP-G2clVDOqodxVByottUeAH_gBJXRXxw_Xsrvr9zcjGpUCWtuakwxu6BTz3UpC3YbZ_FWNEGCVa5o/s400/Doug_Pierson_DMZ.JPG" />S</span><span style="font-family:arial;">ince the 1953 armistice, the Capital of South Korea has found itself within range of quite literally 10,000 North Korean artillery tubes. To be that close, it can't take much time to travel there and in truth it doesn't. Boarding a bus from downtown Seoul, you can drive to the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) in about one hour, traffic dependent. So on a sunny and clear summer day, our team of five Marines boarded a bus along with soldiers, airmen and sailors for a day-long excursion to experience a series of paradoxes at one of the last standing relics of the Cold War and what endures today as the most heavily defended border in the world.<br /><br />The DMZ itself reflects all the characteristics of any typical No-Man's Land: A strip of land devoid of character, loaded chock-full of mines, machine gun nests, security cameras, fields of fire and barbed wire that separates two ideologically polarized armies. 4 Km wide from the Southern to Northern Boundaries, the DMZ is heavily patrolled by soldiers whose countries continue to demonstrate one-upsmanship on a spectacular scale. Adding to that, hair-trigger tension between the two nations is at an all-time high thanks to the North's recent unprovoked torpedoing of the Cheonan and other ensuing events generating a mild feeling of anxiety as you approach. US and Republic of Korea (ROK) soldiers constantly prowl the border, tasked with ensuring no repeat of a 1950 North Korean invasion catches anyone by surprise. Actually in some way, shape or form that's what our team is doing on this hot, humid Peninsula as well.<br /><br />As we draw in on the DMZ the first stop is Camp Bonifas, named after a US Army Captain and UN Command team member axed to death by crazy North Korean guards as they supervised the cutting down of a Yellow Poplar in August 1976. At it's peak, the United States Army occupied this US installation with over 11,000 personnel that daily patrolled the DMZ. While the overall number of border guards remains the same, the US contingent has dwindled down and that responsibility now falls almost entirely with ROK forces.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512757579625781922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJrrzrqCS46jFW5iC_W3NDDBN1EAqL5jvQo-JPRceu3lbwLmFiNsW7uHW10xPnP_hgGzGiUPIco2ju_UiWFWdJzJMAwpYuLYZdUH5IaDAdIIy3eznI_3QILIkFetGo7auWb4ngH5F6bY/s400/Perimeter+Road.JPG" /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The first thing I notice is the state of disrepair of what was once a Tip of the Spear facility. During their tour of duty, soldiers lived here under immediate daily threat of an occasional rifle shot aimed in their general direction and greater looming danger of a major, coordinated North Korean attack. In it's heyday, Camp Bonifas was visited by Ronald Reagan and other Cold War dignitaries in a show of force. Now, upkeep of the base has made Bonifas look more like it was hit hard under one of the mid-90s Base Realignment & Closure (BRAC) waves. Weeds peek through cracks in the pavement, fences criss-cross whole areas, and 1960-era shelters are in desperate need of a paint job (or tear-down).<br /><br />Everyone signs a waiver stating that "The visit to the Joint Security Area at Panmunjom will entail entry into a hostile area and possibility of injury or death as a direct result of enemy action," so it is hard to imagine why this site looks like a run down time capsule. We don't spend much time on Bonifas, but did get a chance to receive a quick orientation on the history of the base and border which proves educational and also helps provide some situational awareness when we are actually on the DMZ and peering in to the Democratic People's Republic of Korea (DPRK), just over the hill. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Transiting north from Camp Bonifas we immediately pass the 2km Southern Boundary of the DMZ, immediately apparent thanks to an over sized vehicle barricade that a ROK soldier opens with a smart salute. Within meters, we drive through a series of large and small physical barriers that are well camouflaged, semi-camouflaged and not camouflaged at all. Given the limited number of highways that connect North and South Korea, US/ROK forces have designed many of these to block the arteries with preset explosives should the need arise.<br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 403px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512757586263749746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioXmuSLzW0Ox-3SerC5baDUqNKxqxAIhXEi-h5bElZb2ah2Awb_pnMXg1xghtErmj0PIcV-FKkMV2CT1k69WWipUE_XN5trBIMYmKqkGX-aE0Tff-iBJJTZvPJIVDRX1sosDxEt4OSo74/s400/South+Perimeter+Fenceline.JPG" /><br />We learn that this isn't meant as anything more than a delay tactic and these barriers exist all the way down to Seoul. If each feature delays a DPRK attack by 15 minutes, then Seoul has bought another few hours before enemy forces roll downtown, aiding in defensive preparations and allowing citizens a few more precious minutes to evacuate. Two sets of 20-foot high fences riddled with triple-strand concertina separate a gravelly minefield. I'm still not sure if that ROK salute was more of a send-off than military courtesy, but either way it was a nice formality given what we then crossed through en route to the actual border.<br /><br />Side roads zig-zag through the Southern Boundary and before long, we arrive at Checkpoint Charlie- the final US checkpoint before entering the United Nations Panmunjom Peace Talk facility. From here, there is nothing separating us from North Korea but two buildings, a parking lot and a whole lot of attitude. We hear a story about a Soviet citizen that made a mad dash across the border in 1984 defection attempt, making it as far as the parking lot immediately north of Checkpoint Charlie. North Korean border guards crossed in pursuit, and a 40 minute fire fight erupted inside of South Korea. The citizen was ultimately protected and the attack was repelled thanks to the Quick Reaction Force called out of Bonifas but in the end, one South Korean and three North Koreans were killed with a handful of soldiers wounded on both sides.<br /><br />Once given the all-clear, we are escorted in a formalized column up through the Peace Building and out on to a concrete platform that overlooks the border and a series of buildings painted in distinct United Nations blue. Nondescript concrete blocks straddling ranch style facilities identify the true border while the main administration buildings of the North and South stand off with imposing, several story facilities that are largely open inside and unoccupied. The Peace Building on the ROK side was built specifically to hold ongoing talks between the two sides but given the lack of meetings in today's climate, it is solely used by groundskeepers to get out of the sun at lunchtime. Since the Cheonan sinking, there has been only one set of talks between nations. Fittingly enough, the only agreement coming out of that meeting was.. that the countries should have more talks. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512213685830695634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicKp0UVFHuoHfLxDIAtjCTq0Sac66Rjt6MBd1EtyrFa2bYVqhSjLbPcfXUGc1v_DA6U7IaO4VlDmr6mxrUw17a30_g3tVYC65zTafaMaZlE8GhEevBBuk6ofBUYYjRzF2UeGntCHvSuRg/s400/Doug_Pierson_Panmunjom_Korea_DMZ.JPG" /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">A stare-down of sorts evolves over the course of the day. Two ROK guards outfitted with black aviator sunglasses and pit helmets face the DPRK and stand at a position of modified attention while half protected by the buildings themselves. All these soldiers must have a black belt in Tae Kwon Do or Judo and must be a minimum of 177cm tall in order to intimidate the North's guards. They do a good number on me, so I'm sure the DPRK don't take them lightly. On the north, two stone-faced soldiers stare on through binoculars while another snaps pictures of our group thereby placing us on Kim Jong Il's Enemy of the State list. We are told that these individuals are among the most well-fed of all North Koreans in order to allow them to maintain their own version of intimidation and "face".</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br /><div><div><p></span></p></div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512213688872920034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXzK4xW-bgOoWNzPlNArkKYWO0JrFQryNJCGu7keJwTaUO00PUVTdY334zWQCgrvGGVhItvbVd-YOjwSdhi_Z6mFuOPBbLnF5ZtOmsDmcOr9TPdXMR0V_Zx-3A9ugHYcNsUxpTUS181I0/s400/Doug_Pierson_Panmunjom_ROK+Solider+from+DPRK.JPG" /> <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 295px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 383px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512765731966057554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVrMRx3gRiVlQiiMoSAZ4wQvMzAyLIbEMbWt9EqMaTroBbBKiqJzhvgPRej0ZWqsaUEWs_1tiZ_A7flQjepn0yHjfad8bF1RHgOteuzhVanzI-F8W6ZiKE_meLB3kae1bJqfIUvolexfc/s400/Doug_Pierson_Panminjom_DPRK+Soldier.JPG" /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The UN Command Armistice Conference Building is a single room facility housed with nothing other than desks and chairs. We learn that flags used to be in the room until one day after a negotiation, the UN team looked in the windows and saw DPRK soldiers rubbing their asses/ crotches with the US and ROK flags. Seriously. Both sides also kept bringing in larger and larger flags (my flag is bigger than yours) until a separate session was needed solely to discuss flag sizes in the conference room. All of this ultimately led to an agreement to just leave flags out altogether. There are two other things in the room, though- ROK soldiers who are essentially there for our protection and to guard a door that leads in to North Korea proper.<br /></span><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512215022853353778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-yjAyEWeRitFlG7WMi5-n34gfvwbtBeP9D-vwea-bpZBBmEa11AJnHQjANtTr3SQlN05USp9taKDP-Po4Z82RC0u84FoNFSeQi29WGNMoJdnZS6WPCdvstC37CoT3607fbHrkhLwq8o8/s400/UN+Room_Negotiating+Table.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512213700042014738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivYuSeWiNzIiphFxRPvjxffCo0c_UxKjPRM_vn47TFeZni6gxdFe2DeGEllstIu2lJHNpDiOKqJvlugldJBrbLnI4jaVgGtcReO8cJruMa6V1pzVtKqixTP5TYpME-9IK1LLGNK_0rnPY/s400/Doug_Pierson_ROK_Peace+House.JPG" /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">This door is a bit of a concern. A few years ago, a DPRK soldier had hidden on the other side of the door and when the ROK soldier unlocked it, the DPRK soldier reached through, grabbed his hand and attempted unsuccessfully to pull him kicking and screaming in to North Korea. As a result, a second lock was installed and the second soldier stationed in the room. When this particular door is now closed the second soldier braces himself against the wall (hence the clearly visible rub marks) and holds on to the utility belt of the first soldier, who then unlocks/ locks both deadbolts in the door quickly before backing off and egressing the building.<br /></span></p><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512213703235524722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8SNrJCjqSblVpulkBtomUd4BQ60bX4vYMyF19toRVu1a5VS9sT5mPQz9K5faGlFxKaPlwYpCLFjYR6Vsr-_PH8FNTpyLUf_oW6btUyKwIcOs8OiRbNyhd-v1eof0EjmvfNMz39q4Jib8/s400/Doug_Pierson_UN+Room_DPRK+Door.JPG" /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">From there, we head a short distance to Checkpoint 3- a guard house surrounded on three sides by North Korea and some heavily populated minefields. Across the treeline, a DPRK checkpoint is clearly visible along with speaker towers that blare propaganda into the south. Located on a hill, this checkpoint provides sweeping views of the mountainous area to the north and some interesting history as well. From here, the site of Capt Bonifas' murder, the Bridge to Nowhere, the site of the 1953 armistice signing, and also Propaganda Village are clearly visible.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Minefields, camera arrays, sensors and alarms are everywhere as far as the eye can see. Some are easy to identify thanks to signs, some are more hidden by shrubs and grasslands. But the border is so well entrenched that one quick glance at any of the border stakes riddling the area quickly brings awareness that mines and other nasty pieces of equipment that would put a serious dent in your social life are only a few steps away. At several points on the trip, we comment to each other: What would you do if you ended up finding yourself inside North Korea and were trying to get out? Just even trying to figure out how to cut across this seemingly impregnable line is mind boggling.<br /></span></p><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512213128743327650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaqWzElvoaPiO4jwrrGoyJrDtUPCyVvcJRnu63gREybaCYhkDNhUM2QnUmsVU_qT6pTB0IeDqrNxV-tRDD_gX2W5ZZCsS5KXLy26s0ThGmzlitYnrNQOGx6Reuyhevf6hM6BlVlmYlpZE/s400/DMZ+Security+Cameras+II.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512213712755679506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSz2LmQvm-iT3URBC1EtfCv986eQcZP9t-lvKOwrfR_pnlj05AlyGbueKzfn_L6z6XXJm4sQcZmWJlXwylobbHMrRhHkJZ_ilsD4-KlYr8ZoBtcPqNc6eXYW-spxYzk58rTYD61OJc-LA/s400/DPRK+Border+Guard+House+and+Propaganda+Speaker.JPG" /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Would you go for it? Try to make your way to the coast? Head north for China? All that we see is a blaring reminder of one Golden Rule of the DMZ: While walking around, under no circumstances should you leave the path.<br /></span></p><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 381px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512212635586894642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuHHyjZ8Yx8g63Yu20d0vvKZtPmu5PNuTFH3d_KmxsT8xND8H2lHbRb-n5qR31IrNaGU-32XSPM9T-E-wftwE3g3cy3DrBj372mcNZ6VGe46JlK9HR8RJYarixSlCqR4_DrH-vUbstLnc/s400/Border+Fence+Indicators.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 302px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512757557170015122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4CBgAku_ROuffk1cHXQtX0-78InaBCnmgogXpnC8ZZk7F52BJdfaajZCkPKFqxU2qH4nJ5A9q8AbEr65QCshkYD2fRgA59rCiTHx1abVYHEOMBbLmIbW9_P4lAprSLoLLSZweho1hmco/s400/Mines+2.JPG" /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">From Checkpoint 3 and at several points along the border, the absolutely ridiculous Propaganda Village comes into view. Adjacent to the North Korean border city of Kaesong, this "village" was actually erected in an effort to show South Koreans all the prosperity and exciting ways of the North. Speakers broadcast music and propaganda designed to convince people to defect to the North. Never mind that other than a handful of settlers and border guards, South Koreans are forbidden from entering the Southern Boundary and therefore wouldn't see Propaganda Village with their own eyes. But even if they did, what would they think? Sure, you will always get some schmo that might buy into the whole cockamamie ploy and absurdity. But the village is deserted and made like that movie set Wild West town that Gene Wilder blew up in the movie "Blazing Saddles". We learn that at night, US guards have noticed that lights shining through windows were brighter at the top floor and became successively dimmer going toward the ground. Buildings are a facade- plywood multi-story replicas completely hollow inside. Through high power binoculars we notice no movement in the village other than two DPRK guards walking lazily to their post, so it would seem that even the North knows that the South is on to them but keep up the game anyway.<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512757568437144994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeXmvGZVjDrTtOUwm-KPE2OJ0NjHqHXOjx2Z1Fj4zN979AspThjgAu6DC06Jg-ddO5ii7NMm6Orp8SxuvDS2xs09Edu_XWyvccPoIR19tCaDEsEKlarN2Bu_Og8K-4H3cjLXdiFj3ntZg/s400/Overlook.JPG" /><br />Propaganda Village is also the site of one of the most evident and peculiar pieces of one-up-man-ship going on cross-border. Many years ago, the South Koreans had erected a flagpole which was clearly visible from the north. The North Koreans then promptly responded in-kind, raising a conspicuously taller flagpole. Not to be out done, the South Koreans then built a flagpole that is 100m tall and stands prominently above the surrounding treeline. The North Koreans then immediately followed with giant F-You by one erecting one that stands 170m in height- the tallest flagpole in the world. The North Korean flag is so large that it takes 11 people to raise/lower it, and weighs close to 600lbs. The South said "wow, you guys are doofuses" and that's where it stands today. If they didn't say that, they sure should have.</span><br /></p><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 280px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512213151078611826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju9_Yrd950vGsJx2fLZFAxwIy-QNYrg0Mu5FfGzsrVGeQV2jJ6Qffnp6p18HFslddMimtR8w2cl4P_voNUysDJvA3W3YL6LRQ5wzaWpcEebPmT9plP6-fML6euO0GCVHpFu6KKNPQJUBI/s400/Doug_Pierson_DPRK_Propaganda+Village.JPG" /> <span style="font-family:arial;">I read that over 750 overt acts of violence have been registered on the North/South Korea DMZ, not even counting the shoving/ rude gestures/ fistfights that have erupted. One of the craziest examples of this occurred on August 18, 1976 when Capt Bonifas and 1stLt Barrett led a working party contingent to trim a tree that blocked the view of Checkpoint 3 from Checkpoint 2. Once on site, the working party found themselves surrounded by a large number of DPRK guards who became increasingly hostile. Unprovoked, the DPRK attacked the UN team, mauling Capt Bonifas with his own axe. A few weeks later, Operation Paul Bunyan was executed- in what shows true tension of the Korean Peninsula, a large team of Special Forces cut the thing down while an entire Carrier Battle Group was positioned in the Sea of Japan, bomber and fighter squadrons were put in the air and US forces regionally were put on high alert in a massive show of force. In the end, the tree came down.</span> <span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></p></span><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512212626399262034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivVioZtiFpkCYyrnKWCmYAtlTYy8Pt67czuSYYBNUfs7iwkqU_ISRv0bbJZICSMAlnzg08UiGMtQR3E-pr_7exrRujIsDv-81Luk5-CJ6DLt5vDvoN7qQISyn4UX7JEtChY7OTK0jVW7A/s400/Axe+Murder+Stump.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512212618409950818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjffKy84-0WHndTLNAQiNIc-Fiyx8UUT6pq3XwAs2H8HnqCas4V4F14c9ovnj-VwSmrSqHAdJoewKTeXLQ6rRYxR-VGl3lPxDJUVmPCOq1qya0fIufRXudh3liaj4gsgGTsf-ZgJCKeHdM/s400/Axe+Murder+Site.JPG" /><br />Maybe it's because of how crazy this part of the world is. Maybe it's a combination of both those reasons coupled with others, but for whatever it's worth there are some funny and very different parts of this border that contradict all the barbed wire and explosives that are literally feet from a tourist attraction. The border town of Imjingak is just one of those examples. Where else can someone spend time staring across the DMZ with binoculars, walk by a locomotive that was shot up back in 1950 and then go spend the rest of the day eating Korean BBQ, shopping for chotchkies and riding Super Viking? Some things make sense, some don't. Standing next to a camouflaged building that is home to one a border guard team known as the "N1CE" unit, I am strictly instructed to not take pictures in front of a yellow line.. that is literally ten feet from a wall that houses a phalanx of binoculars requiring 500 Won to operate. What that ten feet did for anyone or OpSec is beyond me, but they meant business and were enforcing that rule with gusto.<br /></p><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 303px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 403px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512212639763125122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxRlYjCBEh-UveCc0xnH1ALljsUBc1xBqVAbIn3IBC9td0_CSu1cCltI6w-IvZPCNToSgMMNH6f7NSa3mX6QwjxhAaCulRW8fmPssBGQyMvnF7lNvXvIUIIeThokawqFSkx7ZA5DMRKu4/s400/DMZ+Characters.JPG" /> <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512757550972963074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZQ84Lw7U62WSQSPCvhuzYoLBgaVo6UrBsS2ma1gEiW16E_XkQkr8ploCLdLoabQwPcnwvF3SCLUnn9c9__fXF-p6293gjGA1LAGZQXLCRNQKk43LbDhiyDvhSVphhLWwDKnd-tVk43p4/s400/Imjingak.JPG" /><br />Simply because they are crazy, the North Koreans decided that it would be a good idea to dig infiltration tunnels into the south and over time and thanks to actionable intelligenge the south has discovered four of these spanning back to the mid-70s. Some are larger than others, some are more advanced than others. But 3rd Tunnel is reputed to be capable of allowing 30,000 North Korean soldiers in to South Korea/ hour, so when the South Koreans finally learned of it they spent no time cutting it off and building in barricades to ensure no-one is able to slip through. So what else did the South Koreans do? Turned it into a tourist attraction. Following a 350m walkway down into the guts of the earth, you feel the temperature bleed off and humidity jump. The tunnel itself is nothing more than a rocky crawlspace that is likely perfectly high enough for your average North Korean soldier, but requires American Marines to hunch over while walking. Water drips everywhere. Drill points are highlighted to show that this tunnel was clearly drilled out in a southerly direction. Almost laughably, we learn that when the tunnel was discovered a team from the north painted the sides with coal paste in order to make the argument that the tunnel was a coal mine that originated in the south. Hard to explain how coal paste covering granite makes sense, but it must have been a last minute ditch excuse that someone concocted on the fly.<br /></p><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512215008634651506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfFpddHwAJGvykdSEgiDXpYxYK55ulHAQYXfnmVFrJ0zsHafR7k6tjgzuSQor5lWAMgicIBTQ1GaeI41-cX-kUSMs1YoE_v11RIsfmNCRsayyYvt3n4jtlQUhlEikJ3cstUcNXDQBHcVM/s400/Third+Tunnel+Schematic.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512213137281294994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC488miqiFAMRP5qhLk3zYt8YP-2DT2dA7OPOnUbSo-IRhVxGsO-Hs3DUIexHUIquR8FijkYkMTdLBTgAXQq_k0cLKTy38WyHT8SBbFeZnzkOzv7ZaD5JxI0FEAz3MDtHPsa6W31kDY-8/s400/Doug_Pierson_Barricade_Third+Tunnel.JPG" /><br />All in all, a unique experience. All of this reminds me of a teammate at IBM named Chuck Adams. In a former life, he worked at the Pentagon on his twilight Army tour in an obscure office like "Department of the Army, Assistant Logistics and Transformation Office". Essentially a low level office that had little to no access to classified materials. One of his coworkers was a crabby, antisocial Paraplegic woman who wouldn't meet with anyone and spent more time at doctors appointments than she did in the office. Anyone who knows about Federal Service jobs knows that it almost takes an Act of God to fire someone, so they allowed her to continue doing what she did, on her own time. One day, Chuck walks in to the office and finds dust all over his desk. He looks up, and sees the face of a worker in the ceiling who then goes on to tell Chuck that the Pentagon is in the process of network upgrades and it's his turn to have CAT-5 cabling installed. Six weeks pass. Chuck again walks in the office, and finds out that the paraplegic woman has been arrested. For spying for North Korea. Apparently, that's the best that they can afford, which is sort of funny and sort of sad. </p><span style="font-family:arial;"><p><br /></span></p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 455px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 342px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512763754363672002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8cb2Bxgz0txnjiZYmMN50MQxU5nTQ4bt3h8SOqbEMdJ-Pf1XJVt5d3HfJFPZRhvp954ekxA_IZJYu_jsgac6CQgTtYa2I0cg7_XMDRdtEPI5yId2FHmk7KqEHdhgLtPvvzlTbENESDQ8/s400/Doug_Pierson_Panmunjom_Korea_DMZ+II.JPG" /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Back to Main: <a href="http://www.landtarget.blogspot.com/">http:www.landtarget.blogspot.com</a></span><a href="http://www.landtarget.blogspot.com/"> </a><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-58489339725929991532010-08-02T18:33:00.000-07:002010-08-05T19:29:14.197-07:00Little Tahoma (11,138')<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ubMiJIj9ExWwLQsEdh_6YpD7Srm65dNWl9WNZAPZ8tmhmRV0LYp0pSxQO9Bf7WRiK63sSUJHriIxbNRSaEqqAzKHlUnbcJEvdCpCBgeIAZ2sVrZhlBToEimUOR57GTqz-2mtrGsZ57s/s1600/Doug_Pierson_Little+Tahoma_Summit.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501005082014263746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ubMiJIj9ExWwLQsEdh_6YpD7Srm65dNWl9WNZAPZ8tmhmRV0LYp0pSxQO9Bf7WRiK63sSUJHriIxbNRSaEqqAzKHlUnbcJEvdCpCBgeIAZ2sVrZhlBToEimUOR57GTqz-2mtrGsZ57s/s400/Doug_Pierson_Little+Tahoma_Summit.JPG" /></a><br /><div><br /><div><div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">What better way to celebrate Independence Day? On the 4<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">th</span> of July I stepped off for Rainier National Park to climb Little <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Tahoma</span>, the 3rd largest peak in Washington State in what turned out to be an enjoyable and fun trek through <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">subalpine</span> meadows and forests on the way to a technical and challenging climb. Little <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Tahoma</span> has always seemed quite daunting. While summiting Mt Rainier via the standard route, it takes up a significant portion of the eastern skyline with sheer, crumbly volcanic rock cliffs that rise close to 2,000 feet in a straight spire from the craggy and crevasse-riddled glaciers below. As “Little T” looks to be somewhat attached to Rainier and is overshadowed by it’s more popular and more famous neighbor, there is a definite <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">misperception</span> surrounding this mountain- it is actually a separate peak. Several hundred thousand years ago, Little T was a massive volcano all to it’s own. Then the hot spot shifted, and the birth of Mt Rainier simultaneously caused the extinction of Little T. What is left of Little T is essentially the rotten, crumbling and unstable core of what was a volcanic center that still manages to rise 11,138’ into the sky in what resembles an almost vertical pyramid.<br /><br />A few of my Seattle Mountain Rescue (<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">SMR</span>) teammates have climbed Little T already and through their experiences, I have been studying Little <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">Tahoma</span> for a potential climb for close to seven years. So this year, another Marine and climbing buddy named Peter Leonard and I decided to set out and tackle the standard route via the east over a ~30 hour trip. We both subscribe to teams that select a “lighter-is-faster” philosophy to climbing in the Pacific Northwest when weather is stable and this experience was no different. 18 miles round trip, the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">Fryingpan</span>/ Whitman Glacier Route ascends 7,338’ from the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">trailhead</span>, so bringing along a bunch of excess equipment that would never be used just <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">didn</span>’t seem all that attractive to either of us. This type of travel can have limitations though. In 2005, our team of five Marines/Sailors tackled a speed ascent of Mt Olympus and were roughly 20 miles into a 47 mile trip when it started raining heavily at 2am. We all curled up into fetal positions on a flat rock to wait out the night, and Leonard whipped out a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">bivvy</span> bag that he had somehow snuck along. Wiping wet faces with dirty, grubby hands and staring in envy through sideways blowing rain that was twinkling thanks to glowing headlamps, we looked on longingly as he crawled into his bag. “I’ll give you a million dollars for that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">bivvy</span> bag..” “Nope.” We shivered for the next three hours. He slept like a baby. Short of it- there can be drawbacks to traveling light.<br /><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">Fryingpan</span> Creek: (3,800’) Stepping off to chirping birds, pine trees, wild flowers and the burbling sounds of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error">Fryingpan</span> Creek, we wound our way from the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">trailhead</span> through scenes right out of the movies. Massive trees stretching to the sky provide God Rays that filter down to the pine needled and red dirt forest floor. Briefly, cool breezes lift the spirits as glacial <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">meltwater</span> rolling down the creek drop the temperature, providing a brief respite from the warm air. 4.2 miles later, the Wonderland Trail has <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error">zig</span>-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error">zagged</span> over side brooks, through smallish meadows teeming with butterflies and awash in wildflowers brimming in color. We continue to tack on elevation and the trail soon turns to snow as we cross over a large log that has been chipped into a bridge that allows us to cross over <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-error">Fryingpan</span> Creek almost at it’s source and arrive at <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-error">Summerland</span>- a campground at 5,800’ that is popular later in the season and provides breathtaking views of the east face of Mt Rainier.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"></div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><br /></div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500992201073547602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw_RzF_OE63oV2gzQ8Khz_koWI-jWCI7Qf3bHpcKndsBzBfQd58jAMePTW9fNFGbyv_JvECIiTSNVbmOJYWpFz1s8U_tWnxaF61tIv_P7S0BrHVimrvxGpR12Pafa5v5RNBYwwv13z-Sk/s400/DSCN3472.JPG" /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">From <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-error">Summerland</span>, we continue straight up a steep, snow-covered ramp that rises 1,800’ to Meany Crest. It takes us close to two hours to pick our way up what is generally not climbable in August when snow melts off and vertical chutes, cliff bands and crumbly rock provide way too much exposure to go straight up safely. For now though, steep ramps of snow allow us to dial in on Meany Crest easily while fuzzy, 30lb, teddy bear-looking Marmots stare on and squeak out their alarms to friends up the route.</span><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500992542981220306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVj8m9Gb9CR_XWmy_2E0WM3K3loTrjrGp_uzX81VBTVR8WcTGfKdFEQFMzejApjK_n40yfQXuPrmGCkfjbQEE2emnEzi_igRupTxP5-Mzm4wy5_LbV-UpScz-_tDnb10O4uaF093vDyrs/s400/DSCN3474.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500992550647027970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVK9iJ7UT2ZeRSBLiYDbqLyC0UvP42pSKwnA-eDBIV4_K2fcKWFtl4DMX3EcF370pMULzIJxDu37IoqUuvND-mShp-zg3TKkVxtebDZn5ClzMttIn99zL_qhhXnwUf2H0CgDxGIDmSAmE/s400/DSCN3486.JPG" /><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:100%;">Meany Crest (7,500’): Four hours after stepping off, we arrive at Meany Crest. A flat, large rock formation that juts out at the end of a topographical finger, there are plenty of spots to set up camp. Leonard and I found 11 other climbers at Meany Crest- the only other climbers on Little T while we were there, and among them was Gretchen <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-error">Lentz</span>- one of my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" class="blsp-spelling-error">SMR</span> teammates who happened to be there assisting with a climbing course. They had taken an area among the large rocks, but as we were traveling light it <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_24" class="blsp-spelling-error">didn</span>’t matter. We located a scrub pine that was growing alongside a boulder and built ourselves a handy wind break by taking advantage of this opportunity. Leonard scraped snow off the gravel while I moved over basketball-sized rocks. After 30 minutes, our wind shelter was built and we spent a few hours eating, relaxing and preparing or technical climbing gear. Leonard had hauled along three slices of pizza from the night before, and after climbing into our bags, devoured that while watching the sun slowly slip behind Rainier as the sky transitioned over to a wide array of orange, red and purple hues. Leonard managed to piss off a Marmot in what quickly became one of my favorite moments of the trip.</span><br /></span><br /></div><div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500992556514614994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqfUA0OVBJJyS_j8Iol59CTa2drwM3WrueZV4S334_dwp-rxvkg0WM33VPbnEuNBpdtR9BQoHofSdL1TkYez7J454CKzLyhieCe1M5nIYczGBngYiCUdSqHA2Z_0wKFWWJUEpzqF7WTf8/s400/DSCN3491.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500992563100979714" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP3m6ZiBYZevoAyXmMe4K0c5IxovSaAN-Gy70ieJmeEhgo_oUBg1bKkcrvZCjuYQcoLNcGfWTcycI7ezPCMxFkdiOoPsITyt2Um0BMWCuu4GshyeyiNHtg3P3EpihdCKTsR1PMvfQi9a0/s400/DSCN3505.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500992573368103202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhws1JXcxaTAiNBsZCoGhfdLRLlMy0YuzSe8uFzCVr3TV52wfjhi7tnHJmNZ-B4ILvagbcASAPNgu6PduZVDUFlK0TvNYXR9jYyymYw29fA5kKtTDNiZzJsUqAbyBBfSH4njo0pg9euysE/s400/DSCN3511.JPG" /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">At 2am, my alarm went off and I crawled out of my bag. When you are cold in a sleeping bag, several things go through your mind. You want to believe that you can out-will yourself and just sleep through it. You want to figure out what you can do to get warmer. You curse yourself for not spending those ten short minutes that you debated on before bed to boil water and make yourself a hot water bottle. You wish it was time to get moving. You are glad you have more time before you need to get moving. Wow are those stars bright! Why am I looking at stars when I could be sleeping? Why am I even thinking anything at all? If I just let my mind go blank, I could drift back to sleep. Why is Leonard snoring? I really need to let my mind go blank. I’m hungry. Why <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_25" class="blsp-spelling-error">isn</span>’t my mind blank? <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_26" class="blsp-spelling-error">Argh</span>!” And then after endless hours of this, it is time.<br /><br />Headlamp on, harness on, crampons on. Grab some quick food and pack up gear we would need for the summit. We slipped out of camp quickly and were well past Whitman Crest before sunrise. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500992839241517250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSI3Ak1uFfd8poFlxrb0dtjoIBDxi1t675AGSo76W3mpEfd-BtfzrRnRNJEGVRPXKTlgw-Znxek5HBnhMzVtI2LsmRfhsO365mHiW6_sIxxKFWwVIdkZ1kHiqINYRgkE30BOEEMiAcWZU/s400/DSCN3533.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501004213026631874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmmAHcE42Bms4V24w0cYJSnNOTAN0IgjQt38um9G3XF9qFRsF0mzH3yR7Bd4cftT_x_cp3xW1c9ZJAKTFeAsLYJA3dyxi6h9gexoO1QHzfv3Akw_EmB2ROBU3eYz4273ryn7Q4j1BrNQ0/s400/Doug_Pierson_Little+Tahoma_Sunrise.JPG" /><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">As dawn approached, we noticed that we were just above the cloud line. This is such a fun place to be when climbing, especially when at 9,000’. Clouds zip by at 20 miles an hour and you catch faint glimpses of the oncoming sun, mountain before you, trail and surrounding terrain. Then the clouds come back and all that you were enjoying disappears back into a sea of endless white mist. On and off until you gain enough altitude to clear the clouds and see them lazily roll by under your boots. Crampons crunching in the frosty early morning snow, skies lighting up in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_27" class="blsp-spelling-error">Alpenglow</span> and the summit seemingly within reach, we began our push up the 60 degree slopes of Little <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_28" class="blsp-spelling-error">Tahoma</span> on the Whitman Glacier. The good news with steep slopes is that you gain altitude- quickly. The bad news is that it can be slow going at times, can require protection, and is extremely steep. The higher you go, the more attentive you are to footing and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_29" class="blsp-spelling-error">ropework</span>. As the sun rises higher in the morning sky, snow gets soft quickly- <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_30" class="blsp-spelling-error">evermoreso</span> thanks to an east facing slope with no shade to break the warming rays from making what was once hard crust into mush. Communicating regularly and routinely as a team allows for general understanding of what to expect as we climb higher and higher. Step after steep step results in the snow eventually giving way to rock gullies that require rock protection, not the aluminum pickets that anchor ropes to snow. From here, the route snakes its way up and around large rock buttresses caked in ice, now gleaming in the bright morning air. Partially snow, partially rock the route finally switches over to loose, crumbly volcanic <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_31" class="blsp-spelling-error">tuff</span> about 50 vertical feet below the summit. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><br /><br /><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500992851267824354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDNHsavgywdJ9K-X5RDlyT_vRI1GUF4WaC4WI_DszIgBhaEo23j8S3026cts3JsFGDdoADNQkKQOJudC1zH5fUnr_6o7SYNe3Xk1hb0cFSZtWRI-Tr8BXGXEsHCKVhyphenhyphenYAXYL_xWbZOd4/s400/DSCN3552.JPG" /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">And then, we were there. At the top of Little T you have a very different view than what unfolds on major peaks. Instead of being able to see in every direction, the whole west side of view is blocked by Mt Rainier. Looking over the north face, you are immediately filled with vertigo when looking several thousand feet to the glacier floor while updrafts of wind buffet and blast anything exposed. Truly, only the east and south views are available to take in the splendor of this unique mountain and it’s surroundings. Glaciers spread in all directions, clouds lazily roll by. Vivid greens of forest canopies are closer here that from other peaks, offering a unique view not often available of these remote forests riddled with rivers cascading off cliffs into valleys below. We spent close to 20 minutes at the summit- enough time to enjoy the view, take some pictures and swig down some Gatorade before preparing gear for our trip back home.</span></span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><br /><br /></div><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500992861810499938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnH2FkOTyNFR-BPzAuQfJGpb_1vxLWPNjquXVMcauDvv4BOPh2-jr2ZsBmj2iC_vZdTlngm9R5MqqSKk0u6tMpBHHC1wKvU-qXcHGE2lTKP2Z5ZapiP1r41oPMxNbOrEBnRo8ZlmrCef8/s400/DSCN3553.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500992871248907330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPls6j7SQKza9-GeVwCoYySLKrgPviZ2lUNtrqGxzfqBwHBTqs0RYX5R99RC2Addns5FFSkiiLM53_O6D_HXmSADNNsSiEjyh5mGFzYbVKVXg6USFsrnapu5Eb-2c9JsdAB4hW2RlpEt8/s400/DSCN3560.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500993395604856402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG-ocQkrFGKDzKkbIoZY4DxtIrd1Yj1RR2RCWSx52cVw9GK0JUGxth7VzlCcE_dUBS1nMxrQOi4oarTh4WgnVa-N5kEAcJ1_7U0OGVKaMVLoP7plGdhwoS8ppHihhFGjuXo1rKHm6eyCs/s400/DSCN3598.JPG" /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">From the summit, it took us close to seven hours to carefully make our way back down off of the steep scree field, through the rock gullies and down a variety of snowfields. As soon as we hit Whitman Crest, we landed in a fairly solid whiteout that remained the entire route back to Meany Crest. Once there though, we grabbed a quick catnap and were ready to go within the hour. Down, down, down we went- at one point <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_32" class="blsp-spelling-error">glissading</span> in a volley of wet snow that went so fast that we covered 1,600’ in less than four minutes. Finally regaining the trail, we moved nonstop over the remaining four miles until arriving at the car where we could finally let our guard down and relieve shoulders that had been aching heavily since the day before. Big smiles and all in all, a truly fun trip.</span></span><br /><div><div><div></div><div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500993405298748866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgibFmhCVRXueLSEwiDIyOxIRIb0ffigW0KGSLQwfxdinXBYNPxWlo6kG7pCGlXjGG8EGiXYncPTGUZNuU9smqJTZz4rx2rErgqCGd3Sxs8eRPCLe2XTg37lieScKMgBCugiyrUufSMg9A/s400/DSCN3601.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500993414031292818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigsRW9IvHzzn9GkHRluPL_a9f3vOQZ5EyhlVn-iXCcpTXEBNQR9fjKty5O9fx4ksVn5hFFPo1ZGOjbWP8iq8xari7GVbuHoDWeYb4Zr1la39V5ukFWK5n-4gI92u7suHnffhjhDuPO3nU/s400/DSCN3469.JPG" /></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /><p><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">Back to Main: </span><a href="http://www.landtarget.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">http://www.landtarget.blogspot.com</span></a></p></div></div>Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5839377917246826449.post-81253233368330197472009-12-05T09:55:00.000-08:002009-12-20T15:03:17.286-08:00The Great Pyramids<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsUPzR8lupHxocR35GO1wDVGfJkV_CqxA5hE2RQDw7TLFRddWgqtT6duDwbT1Hp8umSCeWLqXVHEk59_OfXg7XDryMGHYMmWPZeST4JmHNNHZ0A6xseHKx_8kh0LRhS2Gz_DQBUalY2vY/s1600-h/EGA.png"></a><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414848800103580402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUBRd3nfgu7We4VCPLC_I5mzAsmMuZgQrC9kP3t_1qF0yCUUChDWaxAOY7hSv3zVQ1coqWYRAqEzOAK1Tr21E0zuqMazAJcMwuE0WXxhALwznV3hcSCmbqRHfFugZd_6l4xMJN6ywtnh8/s400/Doug+Pierson+Giza+Necropolis.JPG" /><br />The Giza Necropolis- more commonly called The Great Pyramids of Egypt, actually is an ancient temple complex of three large pyramids, three small pyramids, and the mighty Sphinx. Built in 2560 BC, it is also the only one of the Seven Wonders of the World that remains intact.. or somewhat, at least. Of the structures that make up this complex, The Great Pyramid of Giza is the tallest, the largest and the oldest. Originally built as the final resting place of Pharaoh Khufu in the Fourth Dynasty, it took 20 years to build and remained the tallest manmade structure in the world for 3,800 years- finally surrendering that title to the English Lincoln Cathedral in 1311 AD.<br /><br />There have been varying scientific and alternative theories regarding the Great Pyramid's construction techniques. Most accepted construction theories are based on the idea that it was built by moving huge stones from a quarry, dragging and lifting them into place. Originally, the Great Pyramid was covered by casing stones that formed a smooth outer surface. What is seen today is the underlying core structure because in 1301 a massive earthquake ripped most of the casing stones free. Some of these stones that once covered the structure can still be seen scattered around the base, but essentially these stones knocking loose are what made climbing the pyramids possible. A goal of mine for many years, climbing one has been something I have read about but is inherently difficult and remains so for many reasons.<br /><br />So one day while visiting Cairo, we set out to visit the pyramids. Arriving at the Giza Necropolis before sunrise and thanks to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Muhammad</span> the taxi driver, we were directed to some back alley which we learned later is a standard tourist <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">trappy</span> kickback to drivers. Turned around, a bit confused as to what was being pressed on us and ultimately still interested, we elected to see a bright orange sun rise on the pyramids from a nearby roof top and then hopped on horses with a guide named (yep) <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Muhammad</span> who led us around the south side of the complex and up to the crest of an overlooking dune. There, we watched excited kids race horses back and forth haphazardly across the sand while shepherds tended to their flocks of sheep as they headed out to grazing fields further out from civilization.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414848794496034354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp7S4iGLCE8gdr-G_NpoegKLyQN1dGGH7ubnUD07XD6nnkdb-VYQIfgQiYFFbXB7sYiL4WGSfymMb4JqOOmvojDE0FhWBi_qpiyRZIv7gFwXqjko_ZWBVUX1sXRRThBNRGbGzT_omNrEU/s400/Doug+Pierson+team+Giza+Pyramids.JPG" /><br />Once the site opened for the mornings tourist rush, we said goodbye to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Muhammad</span> and waded into the masses that exist at the front of the complex. There we paid an entry fee that is 10 times what it is for locals, but in all truth, what can you do? It's not like you cab blend in.. and you want to see them. So you just deal with it, knowing all the while that you are getting ripped off but it's still only about 5 bucks in Egyptian <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ribles</span>.<br /><br />Once inside, you aren't exactly immune. Throngs upon throngs of street urchins and "cultural sentinels", or whatever these guys claim to call themselves exist even past the ticketed entry point and were absolutely shamelss in their attempts to hit you up. Their goal: to milk you from as much of your money as possible. This was actually so bad that we routinely resorted to two methods that clearly slowed our cash flow to these people: One was to split cash in to no less than three pockets- large bills into one, medium into another, and then a final pocket to hold an assortment of smallish bills that could be doled out with a "sorry, this is all I have". Sometimes this wouldn't work- I had a kid actually pat my pockets when I gave him a low R<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">ible</span> note.<br /><br />The other, better way was to respond to the universal 1st question of "where are you from" with a 3rd world nation. This being because the stronger the economy you throw out, the more you are hit up for in your local currency. Amazingly, these urchins also speak an unlimited set of languages for cash. Say you are from Italy? Italian flows from their tongues. French? Look out, they speak that too. I even bumped into a kid who knew enough Japanese to tell that I was warning some tourists- and respond back to me in Japanese. They are that familiar with Tourist Milk. So- the most sure-fire way of getting them to leave you alone?<br /><br />"Where are you from?"<br />"Paraguay"<br />-silence-</div><div>.. walk-off.<br /><br />Not only do they not know where <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Paraguay</span> is- hence the inability to hit you up for any given amount of Euro, Yen, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">USD</span>.. whatever, but they also don't know what language to talk to you in. In essence, a perfect formula.<br /><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414846879044873154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi42xzx7dW68pQ8XztZpTa2-qxJVtVqPrt8L2SKhag_4_7S0zbGv4gqfHn7c0hCsrFJaHLEg-aUYUoPOPs08RPgB5cCtC82sh9cwhSyPO4s0OTumclgelZXTgcVXQCIPjnmkkMnjmFip18/s400/DSC06569.JPG" /><br />Weaving our way through the unexpected crowds, we meandered over to the Sphinx- in many ways it is stunning to see this firsthand with your own eyes. There is so much history behind the Sphinx that seeing it elicits a bit of a unique response. Almost immediately, a dude on a camel came by and asked us if we wanted to ride. I'm pretty sure his name was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Muhammad</span>. It's so funny.. at first there was no way I was getting onto his camel- it just seemed too touristy. But Jon had his SLR handy and we all decided to give it a go. Despite all of the people just meters away, we still were able to capture ephemeral scenes that were right out of storybook Rudyard Kipling or Richard Burton lore.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414848787518147778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOntd1q-pam6p2JBotMmi-2APBBbdNObZ0-6zpuSU9rgUuDvTRWlMoFnyhuTqrxKSc4hVjHxChU1arGjbv6RZm1PTErW04uCNM9Nu9tTxBg1IkI_mR9dezq7A2OBaFoM2DPDg2HWbVhHA/s400/Doug+Pierson+Giza+Pyramid.JPG" /><br />All the while, I scoped out possible entry points to the complex. How do people scale these pyramids? Where do they get in? I have read several narratives and blog entries- the best time seems to be in the dead of night when you can slip in and then watch sunrise, to get busted on the way down, paying Paraguayan bribes to keep out of jail. Interestingly, climbing the pyramids used to be legal- even Mark Twain did it. But in the 1980s, Egyptian authorities put an end to the practice- for cultural reasons and specifically after several westerners slipped and fell. There are many stories about Japanese tourists who are particularly adept at avoiding guards and slipping up top in the middle of the night, but I didn't really have that luxury so this initial foray around the complex was also a bit of a recon of sorts.<br /><br />We slowly made our way around the Pyramid of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">Khafre</span> and south toward the Pyramid of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">Menkaure</span>- a moderate sized pyramid that sits <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">alongside</span> the Pyramids of the Queens. As we wandered around this 200 foot tall pyramid, some Egyptian casually skulking by the far corner said quietly to us "hey.... do you want to climb?" and pointed toward the top. This stopped me dead in my tracks. Was he serious? His shifty narrow eyes darting over toward some police and back toward us made me realize that he definitely was.<br /><br />"How much"<br />"What country are you from?"<br />"Paraguay"<br />"40 Euro"<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414846870749774018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2eULMCdOCJ8Y_dg2w9RCkCfvrYcmDfM3kqJ2GEy0R2TyIqJnUCcbVod6wLjjU1DDiSRs6MLz3apDbp6b3tefir3NWLOVcy0Nh7Lz6f4Zr2Tb4KbHtJYTJWcD_qgXqHthD2QYsQxMTUno/s400/DSC06509.JPG" /><br />There are many things in Egypt that cost 40 Euro but climbing 200' of pyramid under my own steam to what clearly was a bribe didn't make any sense to me. We moved on, but something in me wondered if that was an offer I shouldn't be turning down. Yet dressed in white and standing out like a sore thumb didn't make me feel like this undertaking at midday among hundreds of money grubbing "Cultural Sentinels" would keep me from seeing the inside of an Egyptian jail or completely clean me out.<br /><br />We wandered on, but part of me still wondered. Was it worth it? To climb to the top and see Mark Twains, Alexander the Great, or other famous names etched into the summit block as rumor has it? Would it be better than this picture, taken on the first few steps of the Pyramid of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">Khafre</span>? This one- while cool- still cost me $10 bucks and resulted in a feeding frenzy over that money between the Sentinels and some guards who clearly wanted in on the action.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414846869399032818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJRhjHt-bRGB8yPcvGmSzUjM5-7vtOxAnp1PFvlb2Njjt2qoTih08z3Ig5fkWzI-4uRW10ixGqcuhqrXR-2Sj5aMSfBGL8VJfqmZO7VZseOcZrcNwvHxUJJZBVvqJCSvGlWKOUiOPa4RA/s400/DSC06563.JPG" /><br />I wondered aloud what it would cost if I got nailed on top. Everything in this park comes with a price, a bribe, and an equal secondary bribe. But why not? After all, to say that I had climbed a pyramid was well worth 40 Euro to me. It was set- I wanted to go back and take a shot.<br /><br />The next day Chris and Jon headed off to sightsee at the Citadel and walk around the Old City while I grabbed a bunch of cash and headed back to the Pyramids. I negotiated a rate with a taxi driver outside the anti-terror barricade of the Cairo Hilton, and made it crystal clear that I was limited on time. My goal: Get to the pyramids. Climb one. Get to taxi. Get back to hotel. We fly out. The driver said he understood. He didn't care.<br /><br />Instead, he drove me right back to the same little sketchy horse stable we were dropped off at that first morning. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wtf</span>!? I jumped out, told him to get lost and headed straight to the ticket booth. I was immediately swarmed by urchins who actually followed me into the site but were easy enough to shake. I headed right back to the corner of the Pyramid of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">Menkaure</span> and looked for the same kid who offered me to climb. Not around, some other dude kicked off bidding at 80 Euro. For a Paraguayan, this is pretty steep.<br /><br />I declined, stated 40 Euro- and said that I had no more. He finally relented, seeing that 40 Euro was better than 0 Euro, which he was rapidly cruising toward. The caveat: "can you come back at 1:00?" We were heading to the airport at 12:30 so that was clearly out of the question. Apparently this is when the guards go on siesta, and when climbing a pyramid is possible.<br /><br />"I can't. It has to be sooner"<br />"<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ok</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error">ok</span>. Come back in 30 minutes" he said, warily glancing over at three guards.<br />I did, and was told again that I had to come back in 30 minutes.<br /><br />This happened two more times, and I was getting tired of this. The urchin was clearly aware of this, and finally asked "can you come back at 1?" Frustrated, I said "sure, I'll come back at 1." "You are going to come back at 1, aren't you?"<br />"Yes"<br />"Promise me"<br /><br />Promise me? Is he serious? The guy that is looking to milk me out of my money, probably dime me out to a guard so he can get a cut, and has had me sitting around for close to 2 hrs?<br /><br />"I promise. See you at 1."<br /><br />With that, I turned, walked down past the Pyramid of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-error">Khafre</span>, past the Giza Pyramid, past the Sphinx and out into the crowd. For now, the summit of a pyramid would have to wait.<br /><div><div><br /><div><div><br /><div><div><div><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;"><u>Marine Antics</u></span></strong><br />While on active duty in 29 Palms, CA, I worked with a Gunnery Sergeant named Ward <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-error">Lemmons</span>. A crusty salt who was at the end of his time in the Corps, he told me a story at one point about his Marine Security Guard assignments. American Embassies are guarded around the world by US Marines, whose charter is to ensure that embassy personnel and the actual grounds- deemed <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">sovereign</span> US soil are fully protected. The assignment typically involves a small team of Marines that work for 4 days on/ 3 days off or whatever, with the first Embassy being a "hardship" (I use that term loosely.. if you have ever seen State Department living overseas it is hardly a hardship) tour, then the second Embassy being a premier posting. </div><br /><div></div><div>Gunny's first embassy was Cairo. On this posting, he said: "you know, those pyramids go way out there! Me and a few other Marines would hop in a Jeep and drive way, way out into the desert. Finding some random pyramid, we would climb to the top with a case of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Heineken</span> and sleeping bags. And those Heineken bottles are made of some tough glass too. We would roll the empties off the top, hearing them go 'clink clink clink' on their way down until you couldn't hear them anymore. We would pass out in our bags until morning when some British tourists, thinking they were going to have some spiritual experience would stumble onto us after passing all those empties on their way up. Thinking they were going to have some spiritual experience at sunrise, instead they'd find a trail of empties leading to bunch of passed out Marines."</div><br /><div></div><div>He went on to tell me that during this posting he also managed to make it into one of the extensive catacomb networks riddling the Egyptian plain. There, he stole a human skull, tossed it into his backpack and brought it back to the Marine House where he would then pull it out from time to time for party-goers to inspect: "you can tell he was a grain eater because his molars are all worn down."</div><br /><div></div><div>Two years later, Gunny <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" class="blsp-spelling-error">Lemmons</span> found himself and his Egyptian skull assigned to the US Embassy in Paris, where he met and married a local girl. His proposal came with only one demand: Get rid of the head. So, he concocted a plan with some fellow Marines. One quiet Sunday afternoon they all boarded the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_24" class="blsp-spelling-error">Métro</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_25" class="blsp-spelling-error">de</span> Paris with the skull in a brown paper bag. Sitting down, they put the bag under their seat, waited a few stops and then collectively disembarked. The bag and it's occupant kept going on it's merry way, finally to be discovered at some point down the line. The next morning's front page newspaper headline read: "Human Head Found in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_26" class="blsp-spelling-error">Métro</span>" although it did seem to confuse everyone how a 3,000 year old head managed to get there in the first place.<br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><strong><u><span style="color:#cc0000;">The <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_27" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Muhammad's</span></span></u></strong></div><br /><div>If you have ever seen the coming-of-age movie "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_28" class="blsp-spelling-error">Superbad</span>", one favorite story line comes when <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_29" class="blsp-spelling-error">Fogel</span> is proudly showing off his Fake ID to his friends. Seth and Evan comment on the name he has chosen for himself: <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_30" class="blsp-spelling-error">McLovin</span>, the Organ Donor from Hawaii. His friends get on his case until <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_31" class="blsp-spelling-error">Fogel</span> claims that his choice was between <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_32" class="blsp-spelling-error">McLovin</span> and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_33" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Muhammad</span>. Seth says "Why the <a href="mailto:F*@k">F*@k</a> would it be between <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_34" class="blsp-spelling-error">McLovin</span> or <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_35" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Muhammad</span>? Why don't you just pick a common name like a normal person?" <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_36" class="blsp-spelling-error">Fogel's</span> response: "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_37" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Muhammad</span> is the most commonly used name on Earth. Read a f-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_38" class="blsp-spelling-error">ing</span> book for once." </div><br /><div></div><div>So here we are in Egypt, and everyone we meet is named <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_39" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Muhammad</span>. Taxi drivers, Egypt Museum crappy tour guides, hotel bellhops. Even in this mob of kids- at least ten of them are named <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_40" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Muhammad</span>. </div><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414846852344248658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzRRkhxhyphenhyphenanx7Wi4JG_SmocgcaTILuBUf2BQP0fk1V74sm3XUQH7mqchXisaediYbnwzLfTFA7tEm3KgrMmufAzkJ4_nAUzt9PZDkFI4GRrVaQ1kSWeEZs_70ipBt1_iprQiMeBCMH0M4/s400/DSC06481+-+Copy.JPG" /><br /><div>Exiting the swarm of tourists and vultures at the Giza Pyramid main entrance, I track down a taxi driver who leads me to a side alley and his vehicle. Jumping in, I notice a solitary figure sitting alone on a storefront stoop diligently and carefully carving away at a piece of alabaster. "Hey <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_41" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Muhammad</span>, can you wait for a second? I want to see if he is selling <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_42" class="blsp-spelling-error">canopic</span> jars." I crossed the street and approached this largish individual in man-dress and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_43" class="blsp-spelling-error">keffiyeh</span> who immediately breaks out into a giant smile and strikes up a conversation. </div><br /><div></div><div>"Hi, how are you my friend? My name is Muhammad."</div><div>"You don't say. I'm doing well, thanks for asking. Do you sell <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_44" class="blsp-spelling-error">canopic</span> jars?"</div><div>"Yeah I do."</div><div>Yeah? <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_45" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hmm</span>.. that's a little odd. The conversation wears on.</div><div>"Where are you from?"</div><br /><div>Typically, this general question would have elicited my usual "Paraguay" response, but for some reason that I couldn't explain I felt <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_46" class="blsp-spelling-error">ok</span> and replied with "United States"</div><br /><div>"What part?"</div><div>"Seattle."</div><div>"Quite rainy there this time of year." </div><div> </div><div>Err? This response definitely wasn't normal. We continue talking.</div><br /><div>"So do you hand make these?"</div><div>"Uh huh."</div><br /><div>At that point I stop, turn around and look him in the eye. "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_47" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ok</span>...Where. Are. You. From?"</div><br /><div>"Hawaii. Big Island."</div><div>"Get the hell out of here." </div><br /><div></div><div>We talk for the next ten minutes while I get his life story, which involves him growing up as a surfer outside of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_48" class="blsp-spelling-error">Kona</span>, meeting an <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_49" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Egyptian</span> woman (of course), falling in love and her convincing him to move to Egypt in the mid-90s, converting to Muslim along the way. He travels home every other year where the old gang remains the same and where he's still able to maintain the faint <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_50" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">glimmer</span> of Hawaiian Pidgin that he now feels <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_51" class="blsp-spelling-error">ok</span> to spurt fluently. There we are- two Americans who bumped into each other, half way around the world at the foot of four thousand year old pyramids and talking about surfing in Hawaii. So incredibly random. His smile grows larger and he laughs heartily when I tell him that my usual response to the tourist vultures of nationality is Paraguayan, then becomes saddened when talking about a drying of American tourism post-9/11. "It will come back though, I am confident!" he replies, pulling out his smile again. He insists that I not even consider haggling with him as he gives me bargain-basement prices on everything I want to purchase and then throws in a few pieces free of charge. We part ways, only after he insists a return to his store again when visiting Cairo next time. </div><br /><div></div><div>I promise, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_52" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Muhammad</span>... because I need to get to the top of that pyramid one day.</div><div></div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414848793766943618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf7XwrbER2gJIxeK0Ora4AbbjyhtlgJ6DwyRk7AaXDAh7BJjrPrsYkyRgeK0jUdvJVow4AKlcP7sL3Jy_FBW_QY7faRSRbPf3rdfC3nFE_xtHgJ9m1y0pgPO4XWT71LN_K_e5qHFzba8g/s400/Doug+Pierson+Great+Sphynx.JPG" /></div><br /><div></div><div></div></div><div><div>Back to Main: <a href="http://www.landtarget.blogspot.com/">http://www.landtarget.blogspot.com/</a></div><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Doug Piersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10074055044553790760noreply@blogger.com0