Nay, we are but men. Rock!

This past weekend four of us went backpacking in the Columbia River Gorge.  Since it is now Friday you may be asking yourself why it has taken me so long to post.  The answer is simple: I just now regained enough energy and got rid of enough soreness to type and formulate coherent thoughts.  

When it was decided that the guys from our small group should take a backpacking trip there was an initial flurry of conversation about where we should go.  One of our number had hiked the Eagle Creek trail in the Gorge l and said that it was beautiful, which proved to be true.  He said that the trail was a loop and that at the far end of the loop there was Wahtum Lake which suggested that it would be nice to camp there on the second night of the trip.  It sounded like a grand plan, and for the most part it was.

The trip has actually been a long time coming.  This past summer I helped one of the guys buy a handful of new gear through some connections I have.  Once the gear was bought it would be unfaithful not to use it, so we did.  On Friday we got to the trailhead at about 4:00pm.  Not a bad time.  We got our boots on, adjusted our packs, and headed out.  We got just under 4 miles behind us before we stopped to set up camp for the night.  All was well.  We experienced all of the things one would expect to experience in one of the most beautiful wilderness areas in Oregon.  We saw cascading waterfall that had cut through sheer rock faces, we saw lush forest still vibrantly green even after the long summer, we smelled hippie chicks who had apparently been on the trail for quite some time,…yeah we saw it all.  We set up camp and cooked dinner and sat around shooting the breeze until the Sandman’s gentle tuggings pulled us into our sleeping bags.

The next morning we awoke to some new elements to our environment.  There was a level of dew over everything as if the wilderness just needed a little spritz to wake herself fully.  The air was crisp, the day was new, and THERE WAS A HOLE IN ONE OF THE BACKPACKS FROM WHERE THE @$#%ING MICE HAD CHEWED THROUGH TO GET THE SNACKS!!!!!  I hate rodents I always have and I could have crawled through the underbrush, found every last one of the little furry turds, and broken their necks.  But what I did do was to say, “Man that sucks.  Sorry about the pack man.”  I thought it was a fair compromise.

We finally got on the trail about 10:00 and started the 10 mile, slightly uphill the entire day, trek to Wahtum Lake.  The evening of day 2 went much as the evening of day 1 went with dinner, a fire (that may or may not have been started with white fuel), conversation, and the like.  There was, however, one major and distinct difference WE FOUND A BEER IN THE LAKE!!!  Granted the ‘beer’ we found was a Bud Lite but it can loosely be considered beer category and was delicious.  

The next morning we broke camp a little sonner and were on the trail by 9:00am.  We ended up finding a shortcut to the PCT (Pacific Crest Trail).   One of the finer points of backpacking that I had not learned on any of my trips in the past is that “shortcut to the PCT” is apparently an old native american saying that when translated roughly means, “Trail that goes straight up the side of a mountain and is designed to make one rue the day that humans grew legs.”  And I mean straight up.  It was crazy.

The good news is that after starting the the day with such an intense assent the terrain entered into the down hill portion.  It started out gentle enough and then moved into something that resembled an olymic bobsledding course.  The steep decent lasted for about 6 miles and by the time we got back to the main trail my legs felt like someone had flayed open my quads and filled the cavity with over-cooked pasta.  We were all pretty well shot by the time we got to the main trail and we still had about 4 miles until the van.  By the time we got to the van we had gone about 25 miles over terrain that ranged from a gentle 3-4% incline to a not so gentle 9-12% incline/decent.

The final push to civilization felt like I was in Mordor trying to get to Mount Doom but without a stout hobbit companion to carry me when I could go no farther.  I wish I had a Samwise.  We finally made it to the parking lot where we pealled our sock off and donned our flip flops or shoes and began the almost week-long recovery process.  But we made it.  All in all it was a successful trip.  We had a good time and it is always nice to be in the woods.

Now normally, the only way a post like this would make it on a man blog is because of the title (I’ll take Famous Titles for $400, Alex….);  however, this post actually has something that we, as parents, can relate to (well, I suppose we could about the other anyway, because of that fact).

Well anyway, here is the link. Definitely SFW

What do you all think?

My apologies for the length of this one but I think it is a fun story.

This past Monday I had a rare day off for this time of year.  In fact it was my first non-workday since July 25th.  This includes weekends.  Since we had such a rare gem we decided to pack up the minivan and head out for a relaxing few days of camping.  Now both my wife and I have spent a fairly significant amount of time in the wilderness in our lives but for some reason we just haven’t been able to get the whole pull-into-a-campsite-with-everything-you-would-have-at-home-and-call-it-camping thing down. Something always happens that makes it seem like we have never actually been outside let alone gone camping.

The weekend’s activities started out pretty encouragingly.  My oldest son had his first ever soccer game on Saturday so we stuck around to be able to do the whole soccer family thing and then we would camp Saturday and Sunday nights.  It was awesome.  I’m not going to say that kid was the best 3-year-old out there, because some people who might read this blog also had kids playing, but he was one of the most enthusiastic.  It was a good indication of how he will be when he graduates to playing a higher level of athletic contest, football.

After the “game” was over we headed back to the house and threw our living room in the back of our van.  We drove to my parents’ house about 30 minutes away in order to get their propane grill, beer, and mattresses from their RV.  That’s right mattresses.  Then it was off to Beverly Beach on the Oregon coast.

When we got to the campsite we realized two things.  Thing the first: we didn’t bring the propane tanks for the grill.  No big deal my wife and I are relatively proficient at fire starting.  Thing the second: we brought the wrong tent and one of us is going to have to sleep in the back of the van each night.  Other than that things were going swimmingly.  Things continued to be pleasant until my oldest son started getting abdominal cramps.  The kid developed a case of Beverly Beach’s Revenge that would make that guy in Alien who had the little creepy jump out of his ribcage cringe.  I know my son was in pain because I have amazing powers of deduction.  So when he started yelling, “Papa my belly hurts!!! It hurts!!!  Make it stop!!! I need to poop!!!”  I knew something was amiss.  We spent a good amount of time on the potty that evening and into the morning.  I think I am going to take him to the tattoo parlor tomorrow and have WARNING CONTENTS UNDER EXTREME PRESSURE tattooed onto his abdomen.  Seriously I think he actually lifted off the seat a few inches one time.  It was bad.

This probably would have been enough to make us come home the next day but to make matters even more surreal I forgot one major rule when going to the Oregon coast.  IT IS FREAKING FREEZING AT NIGHT!!  We didn’t bring sleeping bags because our kids are not to the point where they do them well.  So we brought blankets.  With my wife in the van I was sleeping beside my boys and they were fine because they had the blanket all three of us were using as well as an expedition weight fleece blanket.  Unfortunately it was not big enough for me as well.

Around 4:00am I scared the bejeezus out of my wife by opening the back hatch of our van and crawling in with her.  I’m sure she thought I was some sort of intruder but I thought she was the absolute best source of warmth I could find and with the kids in the tent…  

The next morning we played around for a while and then packed up and went back to my parents’ house where my oldest and I set up the tent in the back yard.  We made Smores over the fire pit.  I was able to watch the Broncos beat the Chargers.  But best of all I feel like I reconnected and reintroduced myself to my family.  Yeah for camping.

In case you missed it on Saturday night, here it is. Enjoy!

Here are two videos for your Monday morning.

HT

http://www.vimeo.com/1654340
HT

I’ve been a registered voter since 1996, when I turned 18. The presidential match-ups that I’ve been “of age” for are Dole v Clinton (1996), GWBush v Gore (2000), and Kerry v GWBush (2004). I even remember my Freshman year of high school, when the school did a bunch of stuff around the 1992 election, Clinton v GHWBush v Perot (the mock election by students selected Perot).

I find it interesting that the media seems to be telling us that the match-up is Obama v Palin, and not Obama v McCain. And honestly, I think the GOP wants this to happen. John McCain is not a far-Right Republican, who will excite the staunch Republican base, and get them out to vote. In order to solidify his support from the Right, and make this election more of a race, they paired him with someone who is on that Right, and have positioned her as the person to vote for, not him.

Sure, she’s a woman, and McCain’s election would be historic for the role of women in politics. And yes, Barack is a black man, and that would be historic for the role of African Americans in politics. So the media has setup this “showdown for history,” when it’s really a black man v a white man, not a black man v a white woman.

We aren’t going to see Obama v Palin in the debates. McCain and Biden will not be dueling it out with the League of Women Voters moderating. Get the public debate back to Obama v McCain; let’s get back to comparing apples-to-apples, not apples-to-pitbulls.

This will be my attempt at blogging this years presidential election as an editorial on the individuals as much as the process, and politics in general. Part 1 is as follows.

This year’s presidential election is anything but the same old song and dance. However, Republicans are still saying things about “tax and spend” Democrats, and Democrats are still saying things about “big business” Republicans. Here’s my breakdown of the landscape right now.

Barack Obama is an inspiring speaker, who seems to look for, and get, the best out of people. His supporters are very passionate about him, and getting him elected to office.

John McCain is a Vietnam War veteran, and ex-POW, who has served his country more than any other presidential candidate has, save for a select few (e.g. Washington, Ike). His supporters play up the fact that he is a center leaning Republican.

I am a registered Independent. I think the two party system is broken, yet we are stuck in a horrible political landscape that we can’t break out of. I agree with issues on both sides of the political spectrum, yet I am forced to choose which side I want to “agree” with more than the other.

Case in point. I was flying home from a business trip during the DNC, and caught the last 10 min of Barack’s speech on my drive home on NPR. In the call-in commentary afterwards there was a caller from South Carolina (I think) who said he was a life-long Republican, that Barack was very inspiring, and he would totally vote for him, except he disagreed with him on the issue of abortion. That one political issue is what will keep a lot of people from voting for Barack this November.

For most people, of which I am definitely one, it comes down to choosing the “lesser of two evils.” Which candidate do I agree with more, or rather, which do I disagree with less. I honestly don’t know this time.

My wife and I were talking about the election the other night, and I am in a very different place today than I was four years ago. Four years ago I had a 1+ month old son. Today I have two boys. Four years ago we rented, and today we own a house. I am much more of an “adult” today then I was four years ago, and my opinions have continued to morph into what I currently hold to be good and right and true, but how does that correlate to what the two parties say I should think.

There needs to be more diversity in politics. Less us vs. them, and more “we” (Wii?). There are too many issues, and too many facets to these issues, to try an boil it down to Left vs. Right. Oh, and being Christian doesn’t oblige me to thinking one way (or the other) politically. There’s a reason Jesus didn’t come as a politician.

This is more of a post to make myself feel better.  Even though it is old, I hope you can get a couple laughs out of it, learning how to NOT fight.

I am happy–immensely happy, but at the same time, tragically, deeply anguished.  The perpetuation of my emotional dichotomy stems from the fact that my wife and I just found out that we were going to have another child.  That, in and of iteself, is mostly the source of my unbound joy; however, we also found out that we are not going to be the ones to raise our little one–that honor, in all its joy, belongs to Jesus.

You see, our little one was brought home from this world earlier than I ever could have imagined; I never would have thought that I could feel a part of me so barren, but so alive.  Not alive and blossoming with vivacity; rather, alive in the sense you get when you have a sudden, deep injury.  That part of me is rubbed so raw, bleeding, but feels so alive because of it.

I mourn the loss of my child, but how awesome would it be to be raised by God Himself? I mean, my dad was great, but he kinda pales in comparison.  Let’s see….a wooden house….or golden streets?  Which would you rather see every day? : )

Though it pains me that I will never be able to hold this baby, snuggle it in bed, sing it to sleep, and watch it grow, laugh, learn, and love, I do feel grateful knowing that my child is in the best of hands, and will be waiting there for me, welcoming me into the arms of the Father, who has raised my baby in His glorious perfection.

I am dying inside–but I rejoice in the Lord and all He has provided.

–Aaron

Since moving from WV to OR there have been some pretty significant changes to my lifestyle.  The most significant change is probably with the friends I have here.  The friends we have here are much more natural than anyone else I have ever hung out with and they are claiming my wife.  Now in WV when someone was referred to as natural what it really translated into was stinky.  This is definitely not the case here.  Our friends are not stinky they merely have a commitment to living with green and sustainable practices.  This is great but it has an effect on my life that is getting to be a bit much.  We now make our own cream cheese, bread, and shampoo.  We are in a free range organic egg co-op.  My wife wants us to spend $9 on raw milk.  We recycle or compost everything.  We use cloth diapers which I have to carry dirty bath water from the bathtub to the washing machine in order to wash.  All of that to say I try and do my part. The problem comes when I find myself in a restaurant with our friends I never want to order first because I don’t want to order the wrong carbon footprint meal but I hate ordering last because then I feel like I need to follow suit and order the steamed salmon, water chestnut, and leek tartar.

Don’t get me wrong, I am truly committed to creational stewardship and all that jazz but too much of a good thing apparently leaves me hungry.  I want to be able to get a McRib, that’s right suckers I said McRib, and not have to eat it in my son’s closet in fear of being discovered.  I want to be able to walk down the street with my head held high while letting the grease from my Oregon Burrito lovingly caresses my chin.  I want to be able to eat a steak without someone who claims to be my friend asking me if I know how much methane a cow produces in its lifetime and why am I not eating tofu.

I say enough is enough.  It is football season and I refuse to mask my love of cheese product and sausage.  I am going to fly my greasy pizza flag high.  I don’t want to go back to my old ways but I do want the occasional guilt-free chili dog.  Who’s with me?