We intend to explore America's energy situation as we ski the crest of the Brooks Range, from the Canadian Border to the Alaskan Pipeline and Pruedoe Bay oilfield.
Our planned route is 300 miles of rugged ridgeline that separates tundra and the arctic from the more friendly Boreal forests. Our trip is expected to require 40 days of cold winds off the Arctic sea ice, unskiied terrain and whiteouts. Along the way, we will send out dispatches from the trip.
Our mission is to look at the need for further developing the North Slope of Alaska, from the environmental, economic and sovereignty (both national and state) perspectives.

Sunday, January 31, 2010

You can't stay dry in the Ruwenzori... really?

So the gauntlet has been thrown down. How wet can this place be?

(Those who have known me for awhile, have seen/heard me make some flippant comment to the tune of, "How hard can that be?" That is exactly when you would do well to excuse yourself from participation in an Andy trip. It is the rare individual who finds themselves happy only when they are miserable.)

"How wet can this place really be?" Pretty much the same apptitude as, "How hard can that be?"

Because I have so much confidence in Marmot's attention to detail and judgment, I am not going to take the obligitary over-the-top-of-everything-poncho. I am so confident, I am not even taking a softshell to wear under the Gore-tex Exum Shell. Just the rain, the shell and me.

I will shun the bulk of my cotton, though.

Long ago, I spent several months on a solo Northwest coast sea kayak trip. Your first reaction might be, "Now that would be some rain!" What it was, was waves. Waves who's crests would turn to smoke (spindrift- water) as they crested. But really, for the most part, it was a beautiful range of mono-chromed gray. It is a good introduction to being wet AND dressing to be wet.
But it wasn't the rain ocassionally seen at the lower slopes of Mount Rainier, where afterhours and days, I couldn't help but wonder how all this water gets up in the air!!!

H.W. Tilman talks about the Ruwenzori tending towards dampness in, Snows on the Equator.

The first expedition with an eye on climbing in the area appears to have been shut down by the weather. More likely that AND dense brush.

So, what is the keep dry plan?

  • I have seal-a-mealed the maps.
  • I have triple seal-a-mealed a spare camera.
  • We have a hundred or so nice weight plastic bags that are a working man's size for keeping small things dry-9" x 18". I have always been lees than tolerant of zip-lock bags. If I want a bag to be re-used and dry, I want a knot in the top of it. Triple bag it and even my toilet paper should stay dry.
  • There are about eight varying sized Sea to Summit dry bags in the gear bags. I am tending towards lighter weight fabrics for the smaller ones.
  • I am taking an Amazon Kindle, which will be packaged inside foam, inside some fitted aluminum trays I have had around for about a hundred years or so. I will duct tape the joint. Not with any old duct tape, rather, Gorilla Glue tape (or brand, or whatever they call it. The glue is more tenacious and the fabric is thicker.) On the Kindle is the first aid book, the Duke of Abruzzi's account of their turn of the century trip, materials for a high school class I'm trying to keep going while away and a continuing six-month mountaineering class. I'll throw in a few newspapers and it's a good way to spend a rainy day.
          As H.W. Tilman said about Patagonian conditions, "If you wait for good weather here, you will        never do anything." I suspect we won't have rain days.
  • The ground is muddy low down on the approach to the mountains. I have a pair of knee high rubber boots on the truck (I work full time in the pipeline industry these days). I don't think my feet would fare well in a basic rubber boot. Instead, I have gotten a pair of Muck Boots, Wetland model. They talk about being breathable on the hangtags. Yeah, and I am going to retire someday. HOWEVER, I wore them for days on end, in snow, driving, and just keeping them on my feet. With cotton socks on. My feet are no wetter in them, than in a pair of leather work boots, and quite a bit dryer than in plastic mountaineering boots. Great boots. I am confident they will perform.
  • The details are the success or failure of systems though. How do you shingle a roof? Everything above sheds water to the outside of what is below. I may want my rain pants protected by the boots, but that would funnel water inside. The pants will take a beating, but, outside they stay.
  • Sailors back in the glory days (square-rigged, multi-masted, mostly wooden ships) would add 'body and soul' lashings in poor weather, say rounding the horn. These would be rope ties around the waist of pants, outside of coat, wrists and scarf up the neck as well as you can. Top it off with a good hat- a souwester in the fishing trade and a porkpie hat in the clipper ship world. I would be foolish to not learn from hundreds of years and millions of days of experience. I have added a Marmot full brim Precip hat.
  • gloves are for dry weather. I'm hoping to toughen up my hands and wear more clothing to drive heat to my fingers.
  • liner socks. constant wetness will drive me to use liners. Normally, I would consider them a tad sissy, but as I prune up, I will don the feather boa and the rest of the attire.
  • The rest, I hope is good planning and foresight. Pack the pack so I don't have to rummage around much. Line it with triple trash bags. Don't plan on a pack, loaded tightly, being capable of keeping water out. With all the pressure from the inside, water will seep in

So how wet could it be anyway? Come on.

Saturday, January 30, 2010

A watershed opportunity- The Ruwenzori


Eric Simonson, partner of International Mountain Guides- IMG (www.mountainguides.com), called out of the blue the other day.

My family, bosses and any students that may be in a class at the time have all learned to cringe when I answer the phone with, "Eric Simonson, how the bejeebers are you doing?"

In the past, an identical exchange has led to several Mt. Everest expeditions and general disruptions to a mid-western, Ohio, like-to-be-settled life.
In no way should the blame fall on Eric.
I have to take full responsibility for leaving my family for weeks, or months, while I do something dangerous. It is not pretty. It is not something I am proud of, in the least.

It is at the core of my life's thesis, where I find myself at present, though.

Many, many times, members of climbing parties I was with told a common story. It goes, "The (50 something) teller speaks of always wanting to climb mountains.
               I could associate the deep-seated desire with my own as they spoke.
However, in the years of struggling to build a business, or career, raise kids and generally develop a secure life for their family, these dreams just had to be set aside.
As a guide, I could only think back to my own father and see the parallels with his life. Life often expires too soon. It's a fine line to walk between setting aside for the future and grabbing the bull by the horns for today.
The point here?
Fill your day with little adventures. Plan a few grand ones every year.
They don't have to be expensive, remote, dangerous.
Adventure is stepping across the threshold into the unknown be it: working on your car or home, singing a song, inventing something, talking to someone you are afraid to talk to...
Adventure is not really knowing what you are in for, yet there is enough inner faith to launch forward anyway.
Some confidence that any challenges can be met.
That the vision and drive you have at the start, will not dissolve like a mountain mist as the endeavor warms up.

Little adventures keep us honed and ready. With them, we gain a personal insight we will realize no other way.

The Ruwenzori peaks, situated in Equatorial Uganda, are those misty, fabled mountains in the distance. Ptolemy wrote of 'The Mountains of the Moon' waaay back when he was shaking the world up with astronomy and geography.

Ptolemy

An early Baroque artist's rendition of Claudius Ptolemaeus.
Born c. AD 90
Egypt




As the 1800's matured, the source of the Nile became a driving siren's call of exploration. Stanley (of "Livingstone, I presume") fame, is credited as being the first European to see the Mountains of the Moon. All previous claims were thought to have been hallucinations. The locals believed the nearby mountains to be covered in salt. At the turn of the century, it was soon realized glaciers covered these mountains straddling the equator, in Africa.

Back when I started climbing, a John Cleare book, Mountains, (I believe) had a couple of photos of the Mountains of the Moon. Likely more than any other images in Cleare's book, the Ruwenzori cast a veil of mystery and intrigue.

What kept people out? Horrendous political times, rampent crime and continuous bad weather. The reputaion is for continuous rain. All that water that makes up the Nile has to come from some where, right?
        


The little guide book on a map I found off the shelf in International Mountain Equipment (different than IMG), as opposed to IME (in North Conway, NH), stated it is nearly impossible to stay dry in the Ruwenzori.
It sounded like a challenge to me.

Much of my rain gear being fairly high milage, I went out to our local outfitter, Outdoor Source and outfitted myself with Marmot's Exum Jacket, Precip pants and a precip full brim rain hat. Let's see how they hold up in some real rain.
The gore-tex fabric will keep the water out (it will, won't it?). Every bit as important as good membrane laminates, is excellent design.
Since it's beginnings, Eric Reynolds and Marmot, has build gear with fabulous attention to detail.

Africa is a different place to climb. The Marmot Matterhorn 30 pack should hold just enough gear to keep a bag of tricks handy.

Let's see if we can keep this going through the trip.