Saturday, September 3, 2011

It Strikes Me Funny: “Unusual natural sightings” in London PT 3

Several readers sent me emails after I asked for news about “unusual natural sightings” in a recent column.

Gail D. sent the following:

“Enjoyed your column of the sighting of the kestrel but I think that I had an even more exciting bird sighting  last week.

Hubby and I were headed to Ipperwash for a day at the beach when we spied two large 'somethings' in a vacant field near a line of cedars. We looked at each other ("Did you see what I saw?"), so Bill pulled to the side of the road and backed up so we could have a good look.

Now while not a bona fide bird watcher, I am a bird lover and thought that I knew most of the birds that stayed or passed through our area. There we were in Sylvan Ont. and I had no idea what I was looking at.

There were two huge upright birds with long necks, red patches on heads, black beaks and legs ....... some kind of African bird belonging to the neighboring farmer?

Luckily our bird book is never too far away so after a bit of trial and error we discovered that we were looking at a pair of Sandhill cranes. What a thrill!

They didn't seem at all bothered by us but kept pecking at the ground. They seemed to move in unison strolling and pecking.

That sighting was a first for me, but I hope it won’t be the last time I'll see these very impressive birds.”
GD

I think Gail wins the prize for most unusual natural sighting. (Of course, there are no prizes awarded at this site because they would cost me money).

For those like myself who have not seen a Sandhill crane, I include the picture below, along with one other related photo.


[Link to photo at Michigan Nature Association]

If I did award prizes, this is what I would present to Gail D.


["Yup, it's pocket change."]

Thanks again for your emails.

***

Please click here to read “Unusual natural sightings” in London PT 2.

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The Workshop: Ask me why I can’t stand straight

Yesterday morning, when the sun appeared over the roof of St. Martin of Tours church and drenched my porch with sunlight I got caught in its glare. I stood up to move to a shadier spot.

“Oh, my aching back,” I said, like an aging miner who had spent a lifetime shovelling in cramped quarters, and shuffled toward a cedar Rietveld chair.

I wondered, am I getting too old for hockey? No way.

Is my back still stiff from hauling an old A/C unit up from the basement a month ago? Only partly.

Am I an aging miner? No, but I sure feel like one after unloading and moving six very heavy boxes of stone and four tonnes of sand bags (okay, it was only four big bags but I felt each weighed a tonne) out of my future reading alcove and to another spot.


Fortunately, to complete the alcove, I have all light work ahead. My back should be back to normal by next week. (I hope so. Big hockey game Wednesday).


Materials for a small table and two chairs, somewhat like the pine Rietveld chairs and accompanying table on the back deck, are now being assembled in the workshop, and the table top alone will be a treasure and has got my mind working overtime.


The table top will be made from one slab of 100-year-old pine or spruce that I rescued from my dad’s barn (in Norwich, Ontario) a few years ago. The slab is 42 in. long and 21 in. wide, very rare, and the natural colour is rich, and includes dozens of dark spots where square head nails were once driven.


["The rich, natural colour, still alive": photos by GH]

I’ll make a short skirt for the table, apply more clear coat or marine varnish to make it water-proof, and attach three legs so that it won’t wobble on the uneven surface of brick in the alcove.

I think I will soon have the perfect spot to read, and perhaps write the next great Canadian novel.

***

Please click here for another trip to The Workshop.

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Friday, September 2, 2011

It Strikes Me Funny: “Unusual natural sightings” in London PT 2

In a recent column I asked readers to send me news about their own “unusual natural sighting.”

Shirley P. emailed the following:

“I enjoyed your column and wanted to share our recent "unusual natural sighting".

Yesterday afternoon we had a visit from a red squirrel in our backyard.  It ran towards the deck where we were sitting and started to climb an ash tree about five feet away.  When it was about six feet up the trunk it stopped and looked at us then climbed a little higher and turned around.  

After a couple of minutes is started back down and stopped to look at us again.  I had gone to get some peanuts but he left just as I came back with them.


["Want me to chase yer squirrels? Call me.": GH, circa 1953]

We live in north London and have all the usual wildlife visit us, including grey and black squirrels.  I never realized there were red squirrels in this area.

Isn't it great to be retired and have time to enjoy these encounters!” SP


I live in Old South, London where black squirrels seem to dominate the trees and yards, but I do see some with red tails. A mix? An accident of nature? A new hair style? I’m not sure.

I don’t have a picture of a black squirrel handy but I found one of a young kid who grew up to be a man who - now that he's retired - chases squirrels away from hid bird feeders more than 20 times per day.

(And that’s how he stays fit for hockey).

***

Please click here to read “Unusual natural sightings” in London PT 1.

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Zoom w a View: One man, one camera, one leaf

I have two sisters in Ontario who will eventually retire to Prince Edward Island. Part of the lure of the island - I’m certain - is the water surrounding it.

I think I’ll retire to a place closer at hand - my son’s dock in Fenelon Falls. Whenever I visit I spend a lot of time beside and in a channel between two lovely lakes (one in view just past a neighbour’s own dock and boat house).

Photo 1 “The star of the show heads west”


Photo 2 “The star turns to the east”


Photo 3 “Another leaf? I’m not telling”


Photo 4 “I’ll retire full-time in 20 years”



[Photos by G. Harrison, Aug. 2011]

What is it about the water that brings us to its edge over and over again?

PS - Son, have my room ready by 2031.

***

Please click here for more Zoom w a View.

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It Strikes Me Funny: “Unusual natural sightings” in London PT 1

This week in my column, after telling the story of how this old geezer tracked down an American Kestrel in a local park, I ask readers to send me news about their own “unusual natural sighting.”

Teresa D. emailed the following this morning:

“6 weeks ago I spied a redheaded woodpecker.  I know they're not rare, being skittish little pals, this guy hung around for 20 min.  He was perched on the top of my backyard gate just 6 feet from my dining room window.  I didn't want to startle him so I just watched for a full 10 min before stealing away to get my camera. A second bird, probably his mate arrived and sat on the fence.  I only got within about 20 feet and did get some highly zoomed in shots before he took flight.  It made my day.” TD

I was in Fenelon Falls last summer when I last saw redheaded woodpeckers, but can’t find the photos. Rats.

However, I have a picture from Fenelon Falls of my son in a tree, about to dive into the channel. He had a short, scary flight.

FYI: Teresa’s email ended with the following message:

“Envoyé sans fil par mon terminal mobile BlackBerry sur le réseau de Bell.”

It raises the question - Have you enjoyed blackberries this summer? Are they even ripe yet?

Let me know.

***

Please click here for more It Strikes Me Funny.

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Wednesday, August 31, 2011

In Cars PT 1: Long commutes lead to more than congestion

[“The survey found that traffic congestion is the biggest frustration for all commuters. More public transit means less congestion, another message that has to be delivered forcefully and effectively.” Aug. 27, J. Hendry, London Free Press]

Each year many of us are spending more and more time in our cars. We love them.

We’re driving more miles in more comfort than ever before now that car seat warmers are becoming standard fare. Our rear ends love them.

Urban sprawl has created longer commuting times and the automobile is seemingly the fastest and most convenient method of travel for most workers. The economy loves them.

Cars come equipped with so many other creature comforts (“Kids, wanna watch a movie?”) and conveniences (“The bus stop is three blocks away. The car sits outside my front door, waiting to serve.”) most people will never give them up. Our addiction level is in the red zone.

So, when city leaders wonder how they will ever get commuters out of cars and onto electric trolleys or diesel-fueled buses in order to reduce congestion and pollution levels, they’re up against the power of love, comfort, convenience and addiction.


["The Falcon came with its own beer fridge!": photo link]

Yes, city leaders, along with urban thinkers, environmentalists, bicycle enthusiasts, and other concerned citizens, will all face a great challenge when attempting to reduce the number of drivers on the road.

One writer, Jim Hendry, suggests ‘forceful messaging’ and a “well-publicized 50% off day - or even ride free day” to get people to try public transit.

About that, all I can say is, “Good try, Jim.”

Recent discussion about commuting times and costs have caused me to rethink my own relationship with the 2005 Honda Civic that sits outside my own front door. I don’t love it, but I do like it enough to keep feeding it. Where did this connection all start?

Like many other boomers (people born between 1947 and 1966) I developed an appreciation for the auto back in my teens. My dad’s 1957 Dodge and 1961 Falcon stand out in my memories, cars that didn’t suck in appearance or performance and got me around town and to the movies in a very reliable and fun-filled manner. (The Falcon had a cool air-venting system that included a small box - with a fairly easy-to-reach door near the driver’s left knee - that was big enough in which to hide two beers in stubby bottles. Put them in warm, pull them out cool, even cold, after a short drive. That feature is one I’ll never forget).

The first car I bought - to get to work across town - was a well-used 1964 Volkswagen, for $400, with no working heater or gas gauge. My wife and I rubbed our hands together a lot in the winter, kept the defroster on high, and, because the reserve tank didn’t work, checked the fuel level by sticking the butt end of a hockey stick into the gas tank.

Later cars were in better shape but, if given the opportunity to get one of my earlier cars back, I’d ask for the Volkswagen, dented hood and all.

Twice in my life I’ve tried living without a car, the first time (mid-1970s) because money was really tight, the second time (about 7 - 8 years ago) in order to see if my wife and I could survive without one. Both instances ended with another car purchase, for reasons that seem applicable to the current discussion about commuting and public transit.

My feelings: Long commutes lead to more than congestion, but there will be some winners in the debate.

More to follow.

***

Please click here for another very exciting series about very relevant issues!

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Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Bird Watching: I’ll be as industrious as an ant this winter

On a recent bicycle outing through Greenway Park I spotted a kestrel atop a signpost.


["Atop a signpost, mere steps from the bike path"]

Fortunately I was carrying a pocket camera and snapped a photo before the bird flew across to sit upon a soccer goal post.

After I returned home I Googled ‘kestrel’ and read the following:

“North America’s littlest falcon, the American Kestrel packs a predator’s fierce intensity into its small body. It's one of the most colorful of all raptors: the male’s slate-blue head and wings contrast elegantly with his rusty-red back and tail... Hunting for insects and other small prey in open territory, kestrels perch on wires or poles... Kestrels are declining in parts of their range; you can help them by putting up nest boxes.” [link to more kestrel information]


["American Kestrel atop Greenway goal post": photos by GH]

Once I gather information re kestrel nest boxes and check my lumber supply I may draw up another project. Not ‘my next project’ because I have a few on the go and more on the list.

However, if I keep my nose to the grindstone, stay as industrious as an ant, I may have a nest box or two ready for spring.

Have you made a nest box for a falcon? Any tips?

***

Please click here for more about a recent birdhouse project.

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Austerity Without Anxiety (most of the time): Two people live in this one house

Granted, men are from Mars and women are from Venus. Sometimes, they’re from farther away than that.

Daily I’m reminded that two very different people live in my house. Sorry, our house.

He gets up in the morning, showers, dresses, makes coffee and then hunts and gathers for breakfast before sitting down to think or write.


["He leaves items on the counter to share with her": photos GH]

She rises a bit later, showers, dresses, dries her hair, puts on makeup while listening to CBC Radio news, then thinks about breakfast, often one that includes his leftover coffee (“Drat!”) followed by a toasted bagel from the nearby Little Red Roaster.

Coffee, refills and toast or bagel don’t cost much on a daily basis but over the course of a month or year can top out at a surprisingly high number.

He thinks about the cost everyday and eats the expensive PC Meusli she buys topped with the cheaper, crappier Cheerios on occasion (in his mind and wallet, closely linked, this makes the cost per bowl cheaper than straight PC Meusli). He often hopes she will do the same.

She has been cooking meals for 41 years and more often that not prefers to pay for someone else to toast and butter her bagel even though she buys two or three kinds of cereal just to have something on hand and (possibly) irritate her husband.

He often leaves leftovers out on the kitchen counter near the coffee pot to tempt her to the eat at home and save money. She knows this and thinks he’s a goof (though still quite the catch) and that nothing has really changed since they married in 1970.


He tries not to worry that the two of them aren’t always on the same page. Life is a journey and she recently made great homemade soup and muffins so nutritious and inexpensive lunches would be on hand.

And how much can fresh blueberries cost? (He doesn’t really want to know).

***

To keep the peace - and keep from blowing a gasket - I remind myself often of the things I buy primarily for me, e.g., gas and insurance for the motorcycle, tools for the workshop, bargain books, used T-shirts...

That reminds me, I need a good used, sweatshirt for fall.

Please click here for more Austerity Without Anxiety.

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Cartoons in Progress: “Life’s like that, eh” 25


“Ben was delighted that his body had a mind of its own. That his mind had a body was troubling.”

gah

***

Please click here to view “Life’s like that, eh” 24.

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Monday, August 29, 2011

The Workshop: The 'treetop trilogy' will soon be complete

When I first started building large bird condos (4 - 6 units above a feeding platform) I had three projects in mind:


["Birdy B & B under construction last winter"]

1. The Villa w four units


2. The Birdy B & B w six units


[Photos by G. Harrison]

3. The Something Else but I Don't Know What.

Well, after a relaxing weekend in Fenelon Falls caring for and chasing (in several directions at once) my twin grand-daughters, I've come home to the workshop with some sort of plan for condo three, but only in my head. I plan to build a taller unit, including 8 condos and large feeding surface, with indoor plumbing and outdoor pool. In Fenelon Falls, birds love the water, and I bet they will here in London too.

However, due to restrictive building codes in my area, I may have to forget the plumbing. Or just wing it.

***

Please click here for more news from The Workshop.

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Sunday, August 28, 2011

It Strikes Me Funny: Got a hobby? Why not talk about it?

The first group of people I met this morning (a dog washer in a blue swim suit, a brown retriever getting a bath, the retriever's owners who could afford the dog but didn't care to wash it themselves) were funny enough to rate a lengthy mention here but they seemed a bit skeptical about photos and an interview for my blog.

"So, do you know that guy?" I asked the couple who weren't even willing to dry their dog off. (I pointed down the beach to my left).

"That guy? That's Harvey Johnson." (Author's note - that's not his real name. He turned out to be a crank).

"Fine then. I'll talk to him for my blog," I said, and approached Harvey.

"Harvey. Hi. Can I ask you a few questions for 'It Strikes Me Funny'?" I said as an ice breaker.


He turned my way but saw the camera and began to walk toward the shore. Rather hastily, I might add.

"Do you look for stuff on the beach or in the water as a hobby? Is it a vocation? What?" I asked. (Harvey covered a lot of ground, and water, in just a few seconds).


He didn't respond so I said, "Did you find something interesting this morning? A gold ring, some loose change, anything to help pay off your gear? Is it paid off already? How much did it cost?"

Harvey didn't look my way again or answer my warm up questions.


[Photos by G. Harrison for It Strikes Me Funny.]

"So, you're done for the day? Isn't it early yet? I just got here myself. How much did your headset cost?" I asked as Harvey walked across a children's playground toward a parking lot and a blue Plymouth Neon.

Harvey Johnson exitted the building in 30 seconds or less.

What's up with that? I mean, if you have a cool hobby, why not talk about it?

***

Please click here for another exciting episode of It Strikes Me Funny.

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Zoom w a View: Over my head in the water

While sittin' on a dock on a river and sittin' atop my favourite perch I had my camera handy.

The water, though colder than during July's visit, still finds a way to relax my weary bones.








[Photos by G.Harrison]

***

Please click here to view more Zoom w a View near the water.

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Fenelon Falls PT 3: Photos from my favourite perch

About 30 seconds after the new addition was finished on my son's house the second floor ceased to be used except by company.

Company - read the in-laws, both sides of the family.

I love the upstairs. It's quiet, home to my old Mac computer, and allows access to a second floor balcony almost no one remembers.


But me and my camera remember. It's my favourite perch in Fenelon Falls.


["When it warms up, I'll descend to my favourite deck chair": photos GH]

Don't tell anybody.

***

Please click here to view http://itstrikesmefunny.blogspot.com/2011/08/fenelon-falls-pt-2-i-must-be-getting.html

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Saturday, August 27, 2011

Fenelon Falls PT 2: "I must be getting old... or something"

I must have needed a break. I've had two naps in two days.

Usually, I take about two naps per year, but after driving to Fenelon Falls yesterday I feel asleep during a lull in a conversation. And this morning I grabbed 40 winks after a hearty breakfast.

Maybe I fell asleep so easily this morning because I didn't have my usual two or three cups of coffee with breakfast. Yesterday's nap I blame on the long drive and fresh air blowing through the car. Or maybe it's something else.

I overheard my wife explaining my sleepyhead ways to my son and his wife in the following ways:

"Well, your dad has been working nonstop in the workshop for the last several weeks."


(Well, there is that.)

"He had a birdhouse sale recently. He's been getting back into jogging too. He was out for two hours on Tuesday night."

(Sure, I've been busy... but napping? What's with that?)

"He's not as young as he used to be... but he doesn't know that, I guess."


["Wake up. People will start to talk.": photos by GH]

(Hey, I know I have another birthday coming. But I bet it's something else.)

Maybe it's because I've been swimming in the channel, and the water is colder than last time up here. I mean, even the ducks are tired.

It's gotta be the cold water.

***

Please click here to read Fenelon Falls PT 1.

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Fenelon Falls PT 1: "I think I deserve a day off"

My dad was an expert at creating meaningful slogans.

"Fight your own battles" still comes to mind after I first heard it fifty years ago.

Here's one I came up with a few years ago at my youngest son's wedding:

"You won't be remembered for the commitments you make but for the ones you keep."

On my way to Fenelon Falls yesterday to visit my son, his wife and twin grand-daughters, I came up with a very fitting slogan for the weekend:


"Every person must have a day off - hey, maybe two or three - now and again."


["Give me a chair, a Mad Tom IPA, turn on some music": photos GH]

***

Would you raise a glass to that one?

Please click here to view photos from an earlier trip to Fenelon Falls.

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Friday, August 26, 2011

Zoom w a View: PT 4 Sittin' on the dock on the river

Time - Shortly after supper tonight

Place - Same dock as in an earlier post, but later

Assignment - None that I know of

Photo 1 - "Water on the rocks"


Photo 2 - "Water on a leaf"


[Photos by G.Harrison]

***

Please click here to view PT 3 "Sittin' on the dock"

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"IT STRIKES" Again: Where's the chicken in my packet of chicken gravy?

[The following story was first published in THE LONDONER in Feb., 2003. It is repeated here so that you can enjoy it again and again. I'm still looking for the chicken. gah]

Where's the chicken in my packet of chicken gravy?

On Tupperware Fridays you will find me gazing into the fridge, thoughtfully scanning its contents, hands busy with judicious sorting.

I gladly do the cooking a few days each week. I get to shop, chop, slice, dice, boil or bake. I am allowed to play with sharp knives in a safe, controlled environment and use as much PC Szechwan Spicy Peanut Satay Sauce as I want. When the meal involves driving to Harvey's for a healthy dose of cheeseburgers I'' happily raise my hand and volunteer.

Except on Fridays.

On that day I sift through the leftovers preserved in plastic containers (including Tupperware from many a party in the 1970s), and arrange choices on the counter that would go well together. This instinct to hunt and gather is alive and well in the Harrison family. Several exciting new recipes have been developed over the last few months that have caused my wife to exclaim, "Gee, what is this?"

Last Friday, because I could only spot one serving of Pat's goulash (the best in town) I settled on combining leftover chicken ("Smells okay to me."), baked potatoes ("Still seem fresh.") and steamed veggies (Hey, can't go wrong.") after popping 16 plastic lids. Because I've overused the PC Szechwan Spicy Peanut Satay Sauce in the past I searched for gravy.


["Yeh, this looks awesome."]

I poked my finger into two squishy substances that appeared gravy-like but were probably cranberry jelly or pea soup. After other samples failed the taste and texture test I turned to the cupboard above the stove. Before long I found a packet of hot chicken gravy mix.

The picture of a hot chicken sandwich smothered in two cups of creamy gravy with a side of crisp vegetables had me sold almost instantly. If I could understand easily the 'mode d'emploi' I would be off to the races. I could and I was. Soon I had everything under control. Gravy was simmering, potatoes were re-heating, veggies were steaming and chicken was sizzling in soy sauce. I leaned back and admired my handiwork.

Then my eyes wandered to the list of ingredients on the empty gravy mix pouch. (I regularly examine ingredients in packaged foods to see if I recognize anything from my high school chemistry class.) There were a couple of interesting entries on the back of the pouch.

'Wheat flour, modified cornstarch, hydrolyzed corn, soy and wheat protein, salt, potato starch, yeast extract, soybean and cottonseed oil shortening, beef fat, onion powder, spice, flavour, caramel colour, disodium inosinate and guanylate,'

Anything pique your interest?

I noticed that chicken wasn't listed. Yet I looked closely at the picture on the pouch and there appears to be a chicken beak poking out from under a slice of bread. Somebody missed it.

Have you ever wondered what part of a cow tastes most like chicken? The answer is beef fat. I'm not sure what chicken fat tastes like but it flunked someone else's taste and texture test. The cow wins.

The 12th ingredient is 'flavour'. When I close my eyes and think of 'flavour' I see a large guy in a white shirt (sleeves rolled up past the elbows) telling the sweeper at a chemical plant not to throw out anything. Then they throw their heads back and laugh.

The last two items sound scary enough to keep me simmering the gravy for 20 extra minutes so I'm sure it's really done.

Supper's ready!

gah

***

Please click here to read another exciting episode of "IT STRIKES" Again.

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Thursday, August 25, 2011

1996 Everest disaster: Was it preventable?

The last book I read that mentioned climbing disasters on Mt. Everest was entitled The Boys of Everest by Clint Willis. 516 pages. I couldn’t put it down.


[Photo of book cover by GH]

It reminded me of a three-part series I wrote about the 1996 Mt. Everest disaster, as featured in Jon Krakauer's gripping novel Into Thin Air. I repeat the series here.

1996 Everest disaster: Was it preventable?

Part 1


My oldest son bought me three used books by Jon Krakauer for Christmas gifts and I was unable to put the first one down once I’d read the first page.

Into Thin Air, a personal account of a 1996 Mt. Everest disaster, sounded familiar, perhaps because I’d seen TV shows in the last few years about the same event, and I was immediately hooked even though I remembered many details related to the outcome.

I wasn’t hooked because I’m a mountain climber.


[Mt. Everest from space: Photo credit NASA]

Far from it. My low tolerance for risk wouldn’t allow me to climb higher than Base Camp (17,600 ft.) on Everest (29,028 ft.).

Of course, if I became light-headed and left unwatched, I might try for Camp One (19,500 ft.) or Camp Two (21,300 ft.).

However, as a former marathoner - 13 marathons in all - I’m not confident I could develop suitable strength and endurance to even reach the Base Camp.

I wasn’t hooked because I wanted to revisit the disaster and read about gory details.

My main reason was to see if there were answers to questions I had about the climb:

What drives people beyond a point of, what I consider, reasonable risk?

Could the disaster, in which several lives were lost, have been prevented?

Would I even try to reach Base Camp?

My curiosity was partially satisfied with the following from Ch. 17, Summit, 3:40 P.M., May 10, 29,028 Feet:


[Everest route photo link]

“Shortly after Fischer (USA, leader, head guide) left the top, Gau (Taiwan, leader) and his Sherpas departed as well, and finally Lopsang (Fischer’s Sherpa climbing leader) headed down - leaving Hall (New Zealand, leader, head guide) alone on the summit awaiting Hansen (USA, Hall’s client).”

“A moment after Lopsang started down, about 4:00, Hansen at last appeared, toughing it out, moving painfully slowly over the last bump on the ridge. As soon as he saw Hansen, Hall hurried down to meet him.”

“Hall’s obligatory turn-around time had come and gone a full two hours earlier.”

When Krakauer wrote that last line I was reminded that earlier in the book Rob Hall, the leader of a large group of guides, staff and paying clients, had told everyone, no matter where they were in the last leg of the ascent, to turn around at 2 P.M. and return to Camp Four, their closest refuge.

Turning around any later would severely hurt their chances of a safe return to their highest camp.

Why had Hall waited until 4 P.M. for Hansen, the last climber on his team, knowing the risks to himself and his client were so high?

“Given the guide’s conservative, exceedingly methodical nature, many of his colleagues have expressed puzzlement at his uncharacteristic lapse of judgment. Why, they wondered, didn’t he turn Hansen around much lower on the mountain, as soon as it became obvious that the American climber was running late?”

Hall’s lapse of judgment brought about the worst of consequences.

***

1996 Everest disaster: Was it preventable?

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Part 2


If you haven’t read Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer, a personal account of a 1996 Mt. Everest disaster, you should.

Because if you were ever to climb a mountain, or apply its lessons to other areas of life, you would be the wiser for it.

I read it recently and learned a bit about why Rob Hall, a very responsible, skilled leader from New Zealand, made a tragic mistake on Everest’s summit.


[Mt. Everest from space: Photo credit NASA]

Many of his colleagues have wondered: “Why didn’t he turn Hansen (a client) around much lower on the mountain, as soon as it became obvious that the American climber was running late?”

Here’s what Krakauer reveals:

Exactly one year earlier, Hall had turned Hansen around on the South Summit at 2:30 P.M., and to be denied so close to the top was a crushing disappointment to Hansen. He told me several times that he’d returned to Everest in 1996 largely as a result of Hall’s advocacy - he said Rob had called him from New Zealand “a dozen times” urging him to give it another try - and this time Doug was absolutely determined to bag the top.

“I want to get this thing done and out of my life,” he’d told me three days earlier at Camp Two. “I don’t want to have to come back here. I’m getting too old for this shit.”

It doesn’t seem far-fetched to speculate that because Hall had talked Hansen into coming back to Everest, it would have been especially hard for him to deny Hansen the summit a second time. (pg. 293)

Guy Cotter, a NZ guide, said this:

“It’s very difficult to turn someone around high on the mountain. If a client sees that the summit is close and they’re dead-set on getting there, they’re going to laugh in your face and keep going up.”

Peter Lev, veteran US guide, said this:

“We think that people pay us to make good decisions, but what people really pay for is to get to the top.”

Those who say that death is too high a price to pay to get to the top of the world’s highest peak are, in my opinion, absolutely right.

When Rob Hall (an accomplished climbing guide) did not turn himself or a client around near Everest’s summit to make a safe retreat toward their nearest refuge (as previously arranged), I felt that was an instance that reveals human beings and their systems fail - on mountaintops, high seas, farms, cities, Wall St. and Main St. - for some of the same reasons.

Krakauer writes:

“In any case, Hall did not turn Hansen around at 2:00 P.M. - or, for that matter, at 4:00, when he met his client just below the top. Instead, according to Lopsang (Sherpa climber), Hall placed Hansen’s arm around his neck and assisted the weary client up the final forty feet to the summit.”

“They stayed only a minute or two, then turned to begin the long descent.”

Later events conspired to make their descent extremely difficult, then impossible.

Hansen was never heard from or seen again.


[Hansen’s grave: photo link]

A lone ice ax, found near the end of fixed ropes above a 7,000 foot sheer drop, bore testimony to his fate.

Hall was heard from later that day and into the night but never seen alive again [except possibly by Harold Harris, a young NZ climber and guide, who attempted to rescue Hall and Hansen - and paid the price with his own life].

Rob Hall’s frozen body, however, remained visible to future climbers for some time near the summit.

***

Personal and system failures can be tragic.

What causes tragic failures?

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1996 Everest disaster: Was it preventable?

Part 3


Lives were lost in 1996 near Everest’s summit, for reasons not all found in Jon Krakauer’s book Into Thin Air.

Two men, perhaps more, are dead because they would not turn around and try another day.

I feel that lesson should not be lost on us - even though most will never set foot near Mount Everest.

Our daily lives are affected by social, political, physical, religious, economic, environmental (and other) frameworks, and within each we at times drive or push too far beyond our limits.

As well, we ignore our conscience or other guides, fail to make a safe retreat when the possibility exists, miss the opportunity to replenish essential resources, and subsequently find ourselves without strength or much hope for survival.

For example, here are a few sentences from A Short History of Progress by Ronald Wright that reveal we may have pushed past the Earth’s economic limits:

“During the twentieth century, the world’s population multiplied by four and the economy by more than forty. If civilization is to survive, it must live on the interest, not the capital, of nature (but) markers suggest that in 1999 we were at 125 per cent (of nature’s yearly output).”

And is it not logical to suggest that if we push past our economic limits we slowly bleed the environment dry?

An oft-used quote from Barry Commoner tells me the environment will surely suffer as we push past the planet’s economic limits:

“Sooner or later, wittingly or unwittingly, we must pay for every intrusion on the natural environment.”


[Illustration by G. Harrison]

So, in the political, corporate and personal sphere, firm policies must be put in place and/or limits set to ensure resources are used in a sustainable manner, for the benefit of all now and in the future.

On a personal note:

While training for and running 13 marathons, I often strayed beyond my physical limits or ran at someone else’s chosen pace, then barely survived several of the 26.2 mile events. I hit the wall and became - on a few occasions - an ugly companion for running mates.


["Staying within my physical limits": BOSTON MARATHON, GAH]

Whether we address social relationships (marriages, friendships), economic, environmental policies, et al, we tend to push limits to the extreme and suffer the consequences.

By reading Into Thin Air, I was forced to think a bit more about where we are now, where we’re going, and how we’re getting there.

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The book, and life itself, are gripping adventures, are they not?

Please click here to read another Series of Significance.

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Cartoons in Progress: “Life’s like that, eh” 24


“The long-lost identical twins left the Loobert family reunion with a few concerns.”

gah

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Please click here to view “Life’s like that, eh” 23.

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Austerity Without Anxiety: A cheap apple and lemon drink

If I keep this up for another 25 years (or so), I’ll be as healthy as a horse and rolling in the money I save.


["Professional-type photo by GH"]

To a tall glass of tap water I add a titch of apple juice (they say it’s 100% juice and low in acid right on the bottle - how healthy is that!) and a few drops of pure lemon juice (squeezed in an economical fashion from 21 lemons).

The apple-lemon combination is tasty and bound to be good for me. Plus, the bottles last for a long time, saving me countless trips to the corner market.

My wife thinks I’m a cheap old cuss, and she’s right, as usual.

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Some will say I could save more money if I didn't buy juice in plastic bottles but two people live at my house. Sorry, "our" house.

Please click here for another round of Austerity Without Anxiety.

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Tuesday, August 23, 2011

The Workshop: It’s a small house in Norwich

While building an outdoor storage unit and compost bin recently I also continued work on a unique birdhouse that is patterned after my family home (circa 1955 - 68 for me, my formative years) in Norwich, Ontario.


["Should I add a TV aerial?"]

I applied linseed oil yesterday, then attached six windows and the front door, all the while wondering if I should add the porch roof, the bathroom’s double window unit and a TV aerial for the sake of realism.


["Should I add a porch roof?"]

After all, at age six, I added several gray hairs to my mother’s head after climbing out the second-floor bathroom window, shinny-ing down the aerial and hitchhiking 5 miles to Burgessville to visit my bestest buddy Danny Bucholtz.


["Should I add the bathroom windows?"

I was six. Didn’t tell my mom what I was up to (or down to). Danny’s mother made a significant phone call - as far as my hinder part were concerned - shortly after I showed up at her door.

Yes, I should at least add the aerial. The birds could perch on it. Might help with reception.


["Family home, from 1955 - 2003 approx., Norwich": photo GH]

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PS The one piece of faded plywood (front left on birdhouse) comes from one of my dad’s old white-paint birdhouses, one I found in bits a few weeks ago at the foot of a steel post he hammered into the ground in the 1990s. He’s gone now but I think he would have liked my idea of using rescued lumber to build birdhouses in my spare time.

If I add an aerial, I’ll use metal bits and learn how to use a blow torch and solder. Just listen for the sirens!

Please click here for more from The Workshop.

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Zoom w a View: PT3 - Sittin’ on the dock on the river

Time - I’m not sure if I can find out. Time will tell.

Place - The very edge of a dock, Fenelon Falls.

Assignment - Put one toe in the water.

Photo 1 - "Some river, with toes nearby"


Photo 2 - “More river, no toes”


[Photos by G.Harrison]

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Please click here to view Zoom w a View PT2.

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