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July 15, 2007
Back from Baker
I have returned from Baker, although I suppose most people didn't even know I left. On a whim I jumped into the old Subaru with Jon on Friday morning and headed towards the towering mountain in the distance - Mt. Baker. Leaving all the planning to Jon I just rolled with it as I had my crampons, ice axe, harness and helmet sized up. We took BC Ferries over to Tsawwassen and drove to the Sumas border crossing. We hiked up from the car park that night and set up the camp at 5800 ft.
Jon had an alpine start all planned out. I figured this meant we'd be starting in the alpine, not starting in the alpine AT 2:00 IN THE MORNING.
Imagine my surprise when just after midnight Jon nudges me and opens up the tent to expose me to not only the biting cold glacier air, but the most amazing starlit night over the towering Mt. Baker. "Wow", and "Damn am I tired", were my first two thoughts as I roused myself enough to stumble outside for my "morning" cup of coffee and some delightful instant oatmeal. Looking into the darkness you could see a couple climbing parties already making their way up the mountain with the headlights lighting up the glacier around them. We left camp at around 4:00 as the morning light was sneaking into the sky, at the point were a headlamp was just becoming unnecessary.
We climbed over crevasses, up 55 degree slopes, and over ice fields. We reached the summit of Grant's Peak at 9:00am. 30 other climbers made the ascent that morning, including this guy....
I didn't see his parachute in a crevasse or stuck on a rock so I am assuming he made it off the mountain alright.
We stuck around the summit long enough to chomp on a bagel and some trail mix. We arrived back at our tent around midday, and slathered on sunscreen in an attempt to make up for the fact we'd been baking on the ice for the last 3 hours. With extremely rosy cheeks the rest of the day was spent in a jovial stupor somewhere between sleep and semi-consciousness.
This morning we returned to the car and headed toward the Anacortes/Sidney ferry. By far the highlight of this drive was in Anacortes were we saw an anti-war rally on one side of the street, and a pro-war rally on the other. There were megaphones in the hands of both parties and a blaring pro-America country music being played by the "support Bush" station wagon. I got caught taking a picture of the pro-war gurus and they waved. Jon reciprocated by honking the horn and giving the ole thumbs up.
Posted by jmclean at 10:31 PM | Comments (0)
July 02, 2007
Bad Hostel Sandwich
The night following the most excellent evening at the Downhill Hostel I headed into (London)Derry City. The name is still a matter of confusion I have been told. I appeared at a hostel mid-afternoon, (much earlier than I usually would be checking in), only to find I was taking the last hostel bed in the city, all 4 other hostels were full. I didn't like the sounds of this as every other hostel dorm experience has been very spacious. I got to the room only to find it was occupied by old men. Five to be exact, one from France, one from New Zealand, one from Sweden, one crazy bugger from Ireland and one snorer.
"Why me?" I thought as the overly friendly Irish fellow started talking at me. If you thought Fight Club dialogs were hard to understand try listening to this guy. I never did catch his name, although he told me it about 6 times, however, he caught mine and followed me around the hostel asking if I'd go drink a beer with him or if I wanted tea, (at least that is what I think he was saying). I managed to escape his pestering and walked the great walled city, (home of Bloody Sunday). There was a night life, however, I was just getting tired and headed back to the hostel.
In the dorm room there were 3 bunk beds, all steel and nasty thin mattresses. The structure of the things was sketchy at best and for the first time I was relieved to have to be sleeping on the top bunk. I figured if it was going to collapse it best be someone else getting squished! At about 11 o'clock I started to settle in and was soon joined by the snorer. Luckily his head was directly underneath mine and he was quick to fall asleep. DAMN!
I tried my best to rock the unstable structure of a bed, (hoping he would be startled awake and stop snoring), however the snoring persisted. I switched my body direction on the top bunk and in the process realized that not only was I going to have to stuff toilet paper in my ears, but I would also have to sleep in the fetal position as the bunk was only about 5'8" long. I am taller than that.
Ahhhh, what a night! I got up early and drank a large pot of coffee and headed off to the bus station. I was/am meeting Shona and Leanne Lindsay today in Dublin and needed to make quick time across the country. I scored the front seat on the bus, as the first Dublin bus was full and they needed to run a second for the overload! Sweet, because I had shown up late and would have missed the first.
I got as far as Ardee and was told of a beautiful hostel on a working farm in Slane, (right by the castle were U2 recorded their Unforgettable Fire album). I hit that up, and managed to score a huge room to myself. There was an en suite, drying racks (I got hit by some kinda rain storm that afternoon), free tea and coffee all in room, MY ROOM. I slept soundly as I listened to the rain shower, subconsciously deciding my next trip to Ireland will be requiring no tent and camping gear.
Posted by jmclean at 01:47 AM | Comments (2)
July 01, 2007
The Hamlet that was Downhill
I headed off from Ballycastle into weather that looked questionable at best. It seemed to be sunny in the frontyard, then raining in the back... this left me confused as to be doning my waterproofs or my sunscreen. Luckily it turned out for the best, (less the headwind I fought all day), and I rode towards the Giant's Causeway and the Bushmills Distillary. One of my first stops was just a beautiful vantage point looking down at the spectacular coastline, (not unlike California or Oregon's in sections). A car pulled in after me and a lively old man hopped out and started chatting away.
He told me of his biking adventures and promptly offered me a cigarette. I declined and he appeared slightly offended, however, he and his son lit up and hovered around my bike asking questions about distance, destination and desires... (I tend to explain myself 6-12 times a day and have a concise response). He then offered me candy, disregarding everything I had learned in elementary school, I accepted. I couldn't stand to see that sad face of rejection twice. After a while I left the conversation and pedalled on to Giant's Causeway-EPIC. I then hit Bushmills for a tour and a nip, then on to Downhill.
Like every morning I had no idea where I would find myself in the evening, so as the day wore on, my legs started to tire and I started keeping my eyes opened for sleeping options. I headed down a hill and spotted a sign for HOSTEL. This one was a lovely Victorian house right on a picturesque beach. I signed in and meet my roommate for the night, Jana from the Czech Republic. She and I got a talking and decided that the water out our window looked mighty inviting and took off for the beach to have an evening dip in the North Channel. Brisk is one word, (f£@Ken cold is another).
We warmed up and I had a wonderful stroll down the 5-mile beach stretch as the sun was setting into the Atlantic.
Posted by jmclean at 09:55 AM | Comments (1)