The Grand Grand Canyon

Saturday, November 29th, 08

Grand canyon, Arizona. South rim, Mather point, 6:30 am. That is where I was after the thanks giving day. I had always wanted to see Grand Canyon. If you have not seen it, it doesn’t seem to be a big deal but after witnessing it, many might change their view. It is most astonishing at sunrise and sunset. So, I made sure that the first time I see it, it was at sunrise.

I was at Mather point, which faces east and provides one of the best views of sunrise, well before sunrise. It was biting cold due to time of the day and due to the lingering effects of first snow fall the day before. It was dark and people were hustling around – setting their camera tripods, feverishly rubbing their hands for warmth and trying to sense the vastness before them.

The thing that your mind finds hard to grasp is the fact that this big gaping hole in earth stretching almost 277 miles is a natural phenomenon. I have read that it is likely that the Grand Canyon preserves history of evolution in its folds and valleys. Even the top layers are a few million years old. The deepest part of canyon is almost a mile (6000 feet), so the history of life is buried.

It is debated, and thus unknown, how exactly was this canyon formed. Colorado River cutting across, wind erosion, tectonic movements all seem like plausible causes. Frankly, I couldn’t wrap my head across it even if I considered all three. The reason is that the layers are so similar in erosion patterns, colors, rocks and landscape. It is quiet simply the most artistic the nature has been while using erosion tools.

The sunrise was magnificent. Specifically, the canyon was magnificent at the time of sun-rise. It is a slow process as the valley wakes up taking its own time. Nature uses its entire pallet of rouge and yellow and hue. The rocks and gorges that look asleep and distant and cold wake up as sun filters on them layer by layer. It is nothing short of an orchestrated show with drapes being raised slowly to reveal the grandeur of Grand Canyon. It is in the light that you notice how far and how deep and ho colorful is the landscape. It is a phenomenal experience.

I also did a short 3 mile round-trip hike inside the canyon. I took a very popular trail bright angel trail because it showcases the canyon beautifully. The trial is heavily littered with open views of canyon. As you slide down the narrow trail, it feels like you are peeling the canyon layer by layer. The colors change, rocks change, dirt to yellow to red in 1.5 mile. The most amazing thing you notice is the way rocks have changed colors. You can clearly see neatly drawn straight lines where the color change happens. It is nature’s paint workshop. The hike that takes you to bottom of canyon, to the Indian cap ground, is around 6 hrs. I chose the cozy Yuvapati lodge bed for the night and so 3 miles and 2 hours was my adventure for the day.

For sunset, the vista spot of choice was Hopi point. This point looks at the west and therefore is a better spot for sunset. It was windy and cold. I could see glimpse of Colorado flowing down one of the gorge. The scene was picture perfect and still and yet windy and cold. It seemed like a scene from a video game. It is really hard to fathom it is real, even as you sit in front of it, on one of its rock. The sunset for its colors and the place and the quietness was even better than sunrise.
There were a few more exciting things. I saw an elk – a big, huge elk in the parking lot. The cafes were excellent and the coffee was exceptional.

I only cruised along the south rim of Canyon, which is professed as more scenic. I have not seen the north rim to compare so I can’t compare fairly but of what I have seen, of the south rim, it is a wonder of nature. It looks exactly like the pictures you see of it and yet there’s nothing like being at the rim of these big, imposing, impressive Grand Canyon.

I had a Dream...

Dreams are such a bravura manifestation of our life and of the thoughts we had. My dreams are nothing but things that I mulled over and couldn’t stop thinking about even when in sleep. The good thing about them is they are free of logic and so they are intense, bring out the sub-conscious and don’t have to filter creativity. They have no voice of reason to stop them, no social conditioning to hold them back. I think that is the only reason why dreams seem weird to us when we remember them. As soon as we wake up, the logic, the conditioning colors our mind and thoughts. The pure and free dreams seem bizarre. To me, they are ego-less version of how I really think, of what I would want in absence of much cherished but limiting sapient judgment of how the world works or what the world accepts.

Dreams show us what we cannot see or fail to see conspicuously, not because we are not capable but because we are limited in our awake/aware state by conditioning. When the pain is deeper than what we expressed, when the joy is sweeter than we could relish, when a hurtful moment is pushed back in mind but never forgotten – dreams channel it, re-run it and our sub-conscious mind lives those moments in dreams. How wonderful it is that dreams have no boundaries and have no control? How truly amazing is this ability of mind to emancipate itself from the rationale parts? The propensity to steal away the time we sleep from our binding selves and find a way to show us what we really are. The mind finds a way to preserve all that we are and all that we feel and show it to us at a time when we are away from world. Dreams let the rational part sleep and awakes our unfiltered senses and feelings and shows us what we hide, what we miss, what we really want, who we are and want to be.

The Pride 2008

Colors of Life

This is the first and only time (I hope) that I am writing a blog on past (way-past) event. But, I had to.

Like a swell of river that knows which way to flow, people move to one place in city on the last Sunday of une. On a rather dreary Sunday morning, swamped trains, caravan of cars carried people into the city from far and wide. Once in the vicinity, you don’t need directions to walk. The drift just takes you there. You can’t miss it, even if you tried. Scores of bodies direct themselves to line up as audience and participants. There are children, pets, young and old men and women who amble to find a place with best view. There’s one place to go to, one place to be at – for the next 4 hours. The colors of rainbow splash around on the market street. It is the Pride.

My three part journey started rather early as I drove to board a train and then walked a few blocks in city to join the party. The train was full, both decks. Luckily, I got a seat next to a very nice mid-aged woman. It was her first time visiting SF pride and she was beyond excited. She spent good 15 minutes trying to read maps and parade routes so she doesn’t get lost and finds a good spot. I assured her she wouldn’t get lost. Everyone (almost) on the train would be walking in one direction.

It is rather astonishing how quiet the outer streets are before parade starts. But, as you get closer and will your way on the street the scene that unfolds is magical. People are filling in the 1.4 mile stretch to find best seats in the house, lining chairs and tables and picnic supplies, fitting into costumes, buying feather boas and pride flags, setting cameras, making children and parents comfortable. When I say people are lined up, what I mean is that people first take seats on pavement behind barricades and then there are countless strings of people behind that first row. The street is littered on both ends with pride flags fluttering away. The vibrant colors of rainbow were filling in the gaps for a gray and cold-windy morning.

I feel thankful that the community fills the street and the lives around it with colors and joy and pride. Life can be pretty gray. To be able to see and soak in the colorful ecstasy of just being alive, of being equal, of being able to love is very liberating. This is a parade of being happy, wanting to be happy, claiming the right to be happy and simply walking to show the pride it brings.

The parade starts promptly at 10:30 am. The roar of bikes is staggering. You can’t talk, you can’t listen…you just hear the roar as it fills the street like a buzz of flies and cheer them on. How I wish I could see this by hovering above Market Street. A narrow stretch of road, packed with people at both ends, and roaring bikes with the sound almost filling the set-up till the brim and then some. This is followed by some phenomenal display of floats, flags, costumes, dance and music, band and so much more. There are celebrities, local heroes, politicians, everyday people and they all march in one parade. The array of display that is put out is very fitting to the colors of rainbow – the pride flag. With drags and twirling batons, with balloons and floats, with choreographed band and spontaneous silliness, with big companies and small churches, with health and tourist departments, everyone is out to show off their true colors, the true vibrant colors of the city and its people.

2008 marks a special year as you see waves and waves of ‘just married’ couples. Old, young, with children, on wheelchair, clad in leather and bride caps, decked in white, holding hands, holding signs soaking in the equality that eluded them for years. The small and yet vital parity - to be able to hold hands on street and get their love acknowledged. These are families out and proud to love and be who they are.

I don’t quite understand what people mean when they say they tolerate homosexuality. What’s to tolerate? How dare anyone say they tolerate someone else’s right, someone else’s love? It is not a character, not a behavior, not a choice. It is their life. It is their freedom. It is their family. These are families with loved ones. We tolerate people who kill, people who destroy, and people whose behavior is inhumane. This, her, is life. Love. Children. Companionship. Community. It is something to cherish.

On my way back, as I sat in train, I saw a young boy whose mom was attending the first pride. A tired young couple of lesbians sat in front seat and shared a meal. There was no rowdiness, nothing boisterous. I remembered the Halloween and New Year’s train travel and how people are drunk and raunchy. I saw the contrast and grimaced at society’s hypocritical thinking.

CA is in a fierce battle over Prop 8 that wants to ban gay marriage. Here’s what I think. Aren’t there enough problems, issues and people in the world who are destructive? Isn’t there enough violence and hatred? Aren’t enough kids orphan, enough people lonely and enough families torn? This is one community that is trying to offer a window of hope by saying they want to build families and raise children. Their is this one community that is asking for love and how ironic that they have to fight for it.

I saw an ad on TV in favor of ban on gay marriage arguing that it would be hard to teach kids – the oddity, the difference. How pathetic of an argument is that? Just coz’ it is hard for us or just coz’ we are inept to teach our kids compassion and broaden their view; we should take away people’s rights and label them wrong under law. This logic is as warped as believing world is flat until we knew better, until we learnt better. Let’s just teach world is flat coz’ it is hard to teach otherwise. Why not tell them love and compassion makes family? Why not teach them different is not wrong? Why not teach them there’s more to know what we know today; there’ll always be more to know? Why not teach them to treat everyone like they’d like to be treated? How would you feel if someone took your rights away? And rights that led to compassion, love, familiy, safety, companionship, proud life.

So, here's what I saw. Different colors of rainbow came together to create a beautiful mosiac that left one and all in an awe. Like the rainbow in the sky - perfect combination of sun and rain. No one color by itself is significant or more important. None of us by ourselves are complete. It is when all the colors come together that we become truly magical. The flag symbolizes gay pride but it truly represents life.

The newly-weds!

Fleet Week in San Francisco

Holy smokes, right?

F/A-18 Hornets zooming in the sky and performing tricks!

Let me begin by saying, or writing, that San Francisco is my absolute favorite city. The cultural potpourri in this city is decadent. And when the metal birds rattle the skies and earth on a warm sunny day, the feeling is unlike any other you can think of.

Oct 10th to 12th was Fleet week. There’s a slew of exhibitors, performances and Navy goodies on display – everything you ever wanted to know about ships, boats, sailors – it is all for your taking. The icing on the 3 day festivity is the performance of Blue angels on two days. They fly for an hour each day and mark the end of the day. They draw the crowd from far and wide and hold the crowd for the day.

Blue angels are a bunch of 6 F/A-18 hornets that perform maneuvers as in mind-numbing tricks at jaw dropping speed and insane proximity. A 56 feet long plane with a wing area of 400 sq. feet flying at supersonic speeds is awesome by any measure but, there's more. These guys are doing knife formations, delta formations which require them to fly within inches (18” to be exact) of each other. Four blue angels usually fly in diamond formation and the other two perform more of knife formations.

An airplane of the class of Hornet when flies low and overhead makes you feel…like a kid. The excitement, the awe is indescribable. You have to see it, hear it, and feel it to understand the show that is put out in open skies for anyone and everyone to see.

Now, there’s a whole day of crop-dusters acrobats and competitions. But, as time draw close to 3 pm, the build-up from the day, the wait, the anticipation reaches fervent levels. A big blue angel transport plane cues in before the angels fly in. “They are here!” is a chant you hear as they fly in from the hills. They fly in together and fly out together. They fly over golden gate, they fly over buildings and ocean and the sheer power leaves you gaping.

I remember last year’s show where one of the hornets produced a sonic boom. Watching it happen it front of you is a crazy feeling. The perfect cone, the deafening sound gives you goose bumps. This year however they changed the drill. Angels have different routines and flying altitude for different weather and visibility conditions. This one was surely a ‘low’ altitude one and it was fabulous.

The sea of people that gather on the bay-side is another thing that attracts me to the show. The colorful bevy is so different and yet so unique to SFO. The flock gathered to watch the show is something of a show in itself. Picnics, naps, bad food, angel souvenirs are all part of it. People on roof-tops, people on ground, people on beach and boats and grass – everyone just goes still when angels fly. The wave hits a pause. And after the show the wave travels back - to cars, to trains, to streets.

I walked for almost 5 hours and traveled in train for 2 to be a part of it all. And it was great.

Escape to Half Dome...















I had never walked 12 hrs. in a day before. Never had I walked for so long on such a tough terrain. And my verdict – It was well worth it.

This is my first blog. YaY, I guess. I am a blogger now.

I wasn’t really waiting for a big achievement for the debut. But, why not start the blog with something interesting. That’s right, I’ve done my research. I’ve read that blog-readers (that’ll be you) like to read interesting stories and they like commitment. I am going to have issues with that. (Grin)

So, here’s my little story of half dome. I am not a big hiker. I am just outdoorsy. I enjoyed a lot of biking this summer. It occurred to me that I should further challenge myself and do something completely outrageous. And, I walked. That’s right (again), I aim high.

My intention with this blog is (well this particular one at least) not to provide information and commentary on hiking or half dome. There are plenty of sites that will tell you about how much of what to take, what route to follow, what clothes to wear and what food to take. I am just sharing my experience but I will tell whoever is thinking about doing it, to do it! (Nikeesq.)

My journey started on a comfortable chair with a PC. It all started with research and it was downhill from there. I read about when cables go up, when is the hike crowded, which trails are easier, which are shorter, how much water to take, what amount of time, what type of clothes. I think I read all blogs on half dome (Shout out to thank everyone for putting up so much useful information). Everyone should read a little before they start climbing or be prepared to feel some pain like a fellow hiker did who I heard complain to his friend, “You didn’t tell me it would be this steep!” Oops!

Let me explain the process in brief.
Get up early, early enough to give yourselves 10-12 hours of walking.
Almost 17 miles to cover with back-pack that is packed with water, food and other safety stuff.
Last 0.5 miles of rock-slab steep steps and last 400 feet of 45 degree climb with the help of cables.
Walk in the park? Not quite.

This was a three day plan. Saturday was the drive-to-Yosemite day with focused task at hand. Yosemite National Park (pronounced yo-SEM-it-ee) is located in east central california, United States. The park covers an area of 761,266 acres or 1,189 square miles and is visited by over 3.5 million people each year (my PSA on park). A 4 hour drive was nice and uneventful on a mid-September day with temperature in mid-80s. The residence of choice was a tent in curry village that can be easily rented at this time of year. Hot showers and clean bathrooms are near-by. To warm up, I highly recommend a short hike (~1 hour) to a nearby lower (and/or Upper) Yosemite falls. My schedule was very regimented - eat, pack the bag and will myself to sleep. It was a tad noisy for a while and bitterly cold later at night, but managed bouts of sleep.

Sunday, September 21st, before the break of dawn the alarm pierced the silence of night. It took some time to fight the temptation of giving in and stealing 10 minutes of sleep. But, after shower and final packing I was waiting for the shuttle to Happy Isles at 7am sharp. Half Dome loomed above curry village, bathed and washed in morning sun. It was hard to believe that this tall monster would need 12 hours to be tamed.

The shuttle was full of hikers. Only hikers get up at dawn in Yosemite. And photographers. And maybe people who work there. And shuttle-drivers. Ok, so lot of people. A 5-minute bus ride takes you to a rather quaint hike-mouth. The instruction about bears, bob-cats and trees is rather comforting, saying there’s life where you are headed. The Merced river tributary is dull as this is the drought year and end of summer. It snakes along the hike for the first ½ hour.

The first bridge which showcases the Vernal falls took around 45 mins to get to. A rest-room and water-fountain makes it a good spot for hikers to take a moment and gaze at the grandeur of Yosemite as sun starts to filter into gauges and ridge lines, gently waking up the valley. The air was fresh and crisp. This is also the first place where the first layers of clothing start to shed. From here on it gets steeper and rockier and it is here that trail bifurcates into a shorter, steeper and steps-laden trail (Mist-trail) vs. a longer but easier terrain trail (John Muir). As the falls are anemic and the start of the day is pretty fresh, Mist trail is not a bad choice.

Another hour and you get to top of Vernal falls. It is a tough climb but the most amazing part is the change of scenery. As you climb, the trees, ridges, the bridge you crossed minutes back start to get smaller and smaller. It is amazing how a tree that seemed endlessly tall, dwarfs with few steps in few minutes. The top of the falls are spectacular. For a moment you forget half dome and enjoy the glory of a short victory. Pictures, moment-absorbing minutes should be enjoyed coz’ on the way back things look different to tired eyes under fading light of setting sun. The emerald pool at top of falls is shallow and calm.

Then starts the climb to Nevada falls, which is not too far and you never really get too close to the fall. The next noticeable point is where the two trials merge again and from here on its one trail to the top of Half Dome. This is also the point which has the last restroom for the next 5 miles (one way). After this, mother nature is all you got. As soon as trails merge, there is a short descend and then the only flat part of the trail. It gets a little frustrating here because it seems like you start to move away from the dome. The truth is, it is here that the trail start to curve around and you start your journey to the back of dome. Think of it as extra journey to be able to sneak up on the rock.

It is amazing that just when you think you have had it, the sign appears that says 2 miles to half dome and your mind says, you can do 2 miles. At the end of these grueling 2 miles (2 hrs.) you get first glimpse of the top of the dome and the famous cables. The view here is breathtaking. You can see the valley in all its glory. The dome looks intimidating because you have just spend half day walking and it is still far away and shooting up few hundred feet in air. A fellow hiker on her way down kindly suggests "You are almost there". As in you are almost there to the final ascend.

The final ascend includes 20-30 minutes of climb on grey, rock slabs called ‘the stairs from hell’. In my opinion, they are not stairs. They are rock slabs - high and hard and they are from hell alright. They are very steep and very narrow. You have to stop to give way to someone who is descending. YOu would think something that takes so much work should lead to heaven. After a few steps, you need to shut off your mind and stop thinking how far and how much. Just climb. One step after other. There are parts where there are no slabs, only rock to climb on. Unlike most of the trial that has been shaded with tree linings, there are no trees here, no patch of green. This is hard grey rock that tests you in every way possible.

And then just as you get to final step you see the flat and you are there, at the top of the rock that leads to cables. Let me explain here, the feeling. It is not a silent, calm place, the serene top like place you envision. The place is full of people. This is the place where you'd see more people than you'd see on trail. It is a weird feeling. You reach the top and it is festered with people. People on their way up, people on their way down, people napping, people all over.

You breathe hard as air gets thin but you breathe a sigh of relief. The body is tired and yet pumping with adrenalin. 5.5 hrs and there’s 400 ft to go on cables propped up to deal with 45 degree rock straight up. "Here we go".

Ok, here’s the thing. I didn’t go up the cables. Not all the way at least. Now, here’s the story behind it. I didn’t chicken out before even trying. I put on my gloves and started climbing. The rock was steep…actually, very steep. There were people behind me eager to go up and people on their way down using same cables. My bag pack was heavy, there was too much traffic and I was thinking of how will I get down before I even got up. So, a quarter of the way, I decided to turn. That very point, for this hike, was my perosnal Half Dome. It took me a moment to decide but I was very conscious to not let fear color my decision. I was tired, wanted to rest a bit and I knew this would get harder even if only for about 10 minutes. So, I turned back. I turned back but I didn’t return empty-handed. I learnt.

Don’t take your bag-packs on cables. Take few minutes to rest and eat and hydrate. Stop and start, stop and start, don’t think and don’t wait too much for those descending.

The way back was nearly as tough and took more concentration. One thing about this hike: things, terrain look so different on your way down. Nothing seems familiar. On your way up what clearly looked like steps now look like big, steep rocks. Each step was calculated and took work. The last 1 mile was really, really tough for me. I just wanted to stop and call someone for help. A part of it was the big stairs. Once your feet get use to stairs, simple trail seems very hard. My legs weren’t hurting but my body was screaming with exhaustion.
I can’t quite describe the relief I felt when I saw shuttle head-lights from the trial head. Few more feet and that’s it. The moment I saw that, I thought I could walk for another 30 minutes. Maybe not.

12 hrs. of walking and climbing, 4 liters of water, 3 nature calls behind trees (very liberating), around 50 pictures. All in a day's work.

The bath, the pizza, the bed - that is what followed. It was hard to fall asleep, partly due to exhaustion, partly due to surroundings but mostly due to the amazing sense of achievement.
The next day on the way back, Half Dome looked different. I had more respect for it, I knew it better.

There’s something to be said for human grit and determination. We see something and we find out more about it until we know it well. This was my fifth trip to Yosemite and each time I saw Half Dome it was with a jaw-dropping awe. This time there was a sense of intimacy as I left the park. I saw the rock and then I found my way up to the rock and live to tell it.
I didn’t feel I didn’t complete the journey by not making my way up the last 300 feet. I feel no regret for what I didn’t do because what I did was pretty amazing. At no moment, did I think I wouldn’t do it again. I would probably climb the cables the next time.

The famous cables.