Winter Is On It's Way

I have said this many times before but Japan is SO on my top-3 list of places that I NEEDS to go!

Point Reyes

Just a few clicks north of the city and not a soul on beach but us. I'll take it...

The Voyage of the Swell

Standing room only at a great presentation by Liz Clark about her journeys (often solo) in a sailboat around French Polynesia - Very inspiring tales indeed!

You can read more about her adventures here: http://www.swellvoyage.com/

Plumas

Bombing around Plumas County last weekend, we found places we'll want to return to again and again and again...

Eye of the Condor

TEAM ICELANTIC: Eye of the Condor 2012, Awarded "Best Video" from Sprout Films on Vimeo.

All female team for Icelantic - so awesome!

Mount Whitney - part II

The wind slamming into our tent wakes me up before the 4am alarm goes off. I stumble into the darkness, surprised to find I’m feeling great, and see clusters of headlamps already sprinkled across the upper trail. We set off on the endless switchbacks before us and exchange pleasantries with other groups we come across on the way.

We pause to take in the sunrise halfway up the switchbacks while a pal whips out a harmonica for a quick rendition of “Amazing Grace”.  Watching the pinks and yellows emerge from the blackness to the soundtrack of that unexpected tune is enough to lift your soul up through your shoulders until you’re floating. The whole
event gives us all a charge and we bound up the rest of switchbacks.

At the Trail Crest my headache comes back with a screaming vengeance and the focus becomes plodding one foot in front of the other in an effort to take my mind of the pounding. The hut on the top of Mount Whitney comes into view and seems tantalizingly close. But it’s not. It’s a slog and the clouds are rolling in and my head is throbbing and if one more person tells us ‘you’re almost there’ with a smirk I’ll harpoon them in the thigh with my trekking pole…

Finally we make it to the top and I feel a bubble of emotion well up in my throat. I was nervous about this hike, my first of significant distance with real weight on my back.  The altitude hangover did not make it any easier. I’m happy and proud of myself for making it without having to ask any of the boys to take some weight for me. I’m snapped out of my moment when a buddy slaps my back.

“Let’s get a photo by the elevation marker” He says.

I grunt in agreement and trudge to the sign to get the requisite photo. The sky looks menacing so we don’t linger. I’m happy to descend and each section of elevation loss alleviates the pressure in my temple. A hundred times I think “You couldn’t pay me to swap places with you” to passerby who gasp “How much further” at us as we make our way down.

The descent is uneventful and dominated by conversation around the various toppings we’ll have on our burgers once we get to town.  Mine will include bacon and jalapenos and be washed down with well-deserved pints of IPA. We’ll spend one more night in tents near the town of Lone Pine before making the several hour drive back north with shredded knees and happy hearts, thoughts for the next big adventure already bouncing around in our noggins.

Mount Whitney - part I

I burst out of the office doors, a flurry of spreadsheets in my wake. It’s a race against the clock to get on the road before the rest of the city’s population. A race that is lost, which results in a few hours spent peering out over golden rolling hills in stop and go traffic. Could be worse. A bunch of nothing compared to the gridlock back east.  My first weekend in California with a car tastes like freedom and having to play the old cat and mouse with a bunch of commuters isn’t enough to ruffle my feathers.

We stop halfway for a burrito dinner. A dubious choice before spending a few days in the woods but the best available option and so we dive in.

Darkness falls before we reach Yosemite but the moon, hanging heavy and yellow in the sky, provides enough light to hint at the wonders that lie below on the valley floor.

We barrel into camp in the wee hours of morning and collapse into sleeping bags. Morning comes in a hurry and I’m abuzz with excitement and nerves for what lies ahead. The first miles roll by easy as we settle in to a rhythm and soak up the surroundings towering above our heads. 

About lunchtime the headache hits me right between the eyes and settles in for what will be an extended stay. We’re at Trail Camp by early afternoon where we drop our packs and I skirt around some boulders to find a place to dry heave in private. Hats and jackets come out as we boil water for dinner and watch the sun slide behind a distant peak for the night.  I crawl into my tent with what feels like a hangover of epic proportions.  Defeated by a mere 6 miles, I resign myself to throwing up the white flag if I still feel this bad in the morning...

NYC to BC

NORTH * from GotSurf.ca on Vimeo.

Balaram Stack in the chilly waters of British Columbia.

My better half has family in Vancouver Island and has been talking about a trip up there for awhile now. Perhaps this'll be the year we finally make it??

Not Want, Need

Via: Here