I Went Hiking With My Cell Phone

At Delphi, the historical residence of the oracle of Apollo, there is an inscription: "Moderation in all things." With that in mind, I went hiking today with my cell phone and it wasn't that bad.

The trail was icy from the past week of snow and ice storms. Snow patches were rarely deeper then a foot and it was nice to see the white stuff again. Yesterday's storm was still lingering in the high peaks. An alchemy of cloud, light, and stone.  I was using my phone as my camera and still had a signal. I cant do it often, so I shared the moments with friends as I saved them for myself.  I even made a few jokes, about the frost being "Hoar"ifing, and the worst:

The short hike ended in a small slot up Pine Canyon called Devils Hall. Taking a picture of the geology I noticed my signal was gone. Briefly, I regretted not being able to share it, but instead I stopped to hear the silence. A gust of wind rushed through the narrow passage and then it was still again. I was alone. There was no one else in the park and I felt it. It was a good feeling to have again. Shared experience means something but there is beauty in isolation.  I brewed a cup of tea.

 

I back tracked to the trailhead and to camp. Eventually my signal returned and, again, on my photo breaks I shared my fun, in snapchats, instagram posts and facebook. 

It was a tasteful use, a "moderation" of the technology. I wasn't stumbling over rocks sending text messages while eagles soared above, and alpen glow danced on the mountain peaks. I was not aloof to my surroundings. I pretended to be the water in the dry canyon wash, rushing ever downward. I stopped for a while to watch a robin in the brush.

Rarely, do I have a signal that far in the backcountry. I was able to have my wilderness experience and to also share it for once. I enjoy the use of technology in the outdoors*, but I'm also an outdoorsman. At base, I value the experience of the natural world over the digital world. Technology augments reality, it does not make it.

You just gotta get yer head up every once in a while.

-MG





*This entire post has been done in the field. My cell phone has acted as a router connected to the computer and all of my electronics are being charged via a Goal Zero solar setup.

Life On The Edge

It was 78 degrees today.

New Orleans, you are my home and I love you, but you have a bunk winter and I need to get out.

Winter can not be experienced in this city. I'll buy into the New Orleans conventional wisdom that humidity makes it feel colder, sure. I have spent Mardi Gras week freezing on St. Charles, camped out, waiting. I've had my old shotgun house with no insulation and a broke heater, but the winter here is still bunk. Rarely can you feel the crisp bite to the air as you breathe. The tingle on your cheeks and ears. And the wind. The wind. The sharpness of it's edge as it cuts through any break in your layers. The cold nor the wind, though, say winter more than snow, and NOLA is in a lack of this standard. We get a fine sleet and people call it snow. I need more y'all, ya herd?

Its starting to dump out west brah'! The pow is coming. I'm coming.

Two years ago I started this writing project. It was in anticipation of an extended road trip out west in the summer of 2013. That trip met limited success. Now, I'm headed back for a second take. This time during my favorite season: winter.

Real winter and winter in New Orleans are not the same. NOLA might get enough days below freezing to count on one hand. In true winter the cold becomes omnipresent and inescapable. The accumulating snow creates barriers impeding progress. Everything requires extra time, care, and attention. Little problems quickly become big problems.Lips crack, hands dry out, extremities become numb and you can never find enough warmth.

The endurance of these winter hardships is rewarded in beauty and lessons in virtue. A frozen alpine lake. Pines weighted in snow. The first light of the morning sun behind floating ice crystals in the air. The small prints of a hare. The cold enforces fortitude and self control. There is glory and insight in winter for those willing to pay the price. It's like a hero of mine, Jim Whittater, said, "if you are not living life on the edge, you are taking up too much space."

I'll see y'all dere'. The adventure begins January 5th.

-MG

Maybe I Should Have Bought A Van

In recent posts I dropped a few hints that I am planning a big trip. I have been working through the logistics and finances of spending a few months on the road. The plan is to follow the spine of the Rockies through New Mexico and up to the central ski areas of Colorado. After I have sufficiently froze myself, I am planing to head west to Utah for canyon country. The time frame for this trip is open. I am not expecting to return to the Gulf Coast until March at the earliest. I will be departing on Monday January 5th.

Endeavor, my Jeep, has proved to be a great ally in my adventures. Over the past year I gained some experience in living out of the Jeep. In the process, I figured out, and fixed, many of the problems with the cramped quarters. In time I have learned to be a high class dirtbag.

The Cockpit:

My passenger seat acts as my kitchen:

The rear passenger seat folds down to accommodate my bed. The cargo space behind the rear driver works as my closet and gear shed.

 Rear driver side serves as my library and office, complete with solar power:

Oh, and my bathroom...








Catch me on the road guys!

-MG

Saturday Night Movie: Rock Of Refuge

Over the years I have watched more than my fair share of outdoor videos. The short ones and the long ones. The ones that are epics of storytelling and the ones that are someones vacation footage. You can find some truly interesting insights into the lives of people. Sometimes you learn something subtly or by inference alone. In the case of tonight's feature the lesson is a bit explicit.

Of all the videos I have seen none have frightened me as much as this one. The personal GoPro footage is difficult to watch if you can read the signs that they miss. Give it a watch, but you might want to skip the first three min of time lapse though, the music blows.



Zion: Rock of Refuge from Eric Hanson on Vimeo.

-MG

She Fell For the Lumbersexual

I got to the bar a quarter of an hour after our predetermined time. She was sitting on the far end of the bar in a cute red and black dress. Her dark hair had been straightened and the dress artfully exhibited her tasteful tattoos.

My approach was noticed and I was welcomed with open arms and a hug. We had met once before in a brief exchange, but this friendly reintroduction was nice. As we took our place at the bar we ordered drinks and started a conversation.

"So you are also from New Orleans?" I asked.

She proudly answered, "Sure am, Cabrini, class of 2009!" She took a shot of chilled Jameson and added, "But what are you doing here?"

"Oh, that question...", I murmured. "It's temporary right now." I assured while leaning back, stretching my arms and placing my hands behind my head. "I'm just waiting for my time to be back in the mountains! I have a big winter trip planned and I'm hoping to guide again for rafting season."I continued as to not have a lull in the conversation.

She looked genuinely interested, "That's so awesome that you are living the life you want. Camping is really cool, I wish I could go more often but no one wants to take me." Her eyes became glassy and focused on a point not in this room. She was dreaming, "I would love to do Machu Picchu one day or see Grand Canyon. Nature is so beautiful sometimes!"

I wanted to keep on that topic, but before I could add something a gentleman approached. The same greeting I received was also given to him. He had a well manicured beard, a beanie cap, and was wearing a nice classic flannel. His pants were heavy canvas and a warm beige color. He looked like my buddies out in Colorado, or me if I ever trimmed my beard and had clean clothes. I entertained a short conversation with him. He was from Los Angeles and working here in New Orleans as a manager for a Starbucks.

I looked at him and was puzzled about his choice of clothes and stated occupation. I asked "So do you do any outdoor recreation?"

He looked at me with the same puzzled look.

He finally responded, "Not really, I went camping once out in Big Sur, and that was awesome, and I used to hike around the Hollywood sign."

I cut him off, "Bourbon." I said to the bartender. "Turkey, 101"

We all took shots, or I should say I took a shot and they sipped. My fleece smelled of campfire from the other night's backyard fire and it complimented the whiskey well.

My two companions were now in a simple conversation. They were talking about new movies and music; all things I've never heard or seen before. Then they began to share videos on their phones, and show off pictures from their trips to Seattle, New York City and Miami.

I removed the battery from my phone, and found a way in the two sided conversation, "It really pisses me off to have people show photos on their phone. I mean, seriously, you are undermining yourself." My voice grew louder and I threw my hands towards the ceiling, "If this is a treasured memory, why trivialize it on a 3.5inch screen? Hell, I would feel my efforts wasted if the only way I could communicate my last backpacking trip was through my phone. I value the experience for what I learned about the world and myself. I can never convey that in a picture on a cell phone."

"Well, you know they make tablets!", he quickly joked. The two laughed. 

I was defeated. Their minds were in the pop, technophilic, culture of distractions and fallacies. They went back to talking and their phones. Shortly after I grabbed my fleece, it was covered with ember burns from countless nights by a fire, and said good evening to my new acquaintances. There were better things to entertain. I needed to find out how to take a shit in sub zero temperatures.

-MG

Martin Litton

Martin Litton

Rivers;
our flowing soul,
our dreams,
our hopes.

"Forget me not!"
It echoed through the canyon,
"Forget me not!"
A river can move the earth.

 -MG

Save the Dinosaurs

It is not something I am quick to admit, but I do have a "real job" as a retail worker. Luckily, it is working for an outdoor outfitter; so there are a few perks. My co-workers also seem to understand my humor and that really makes the lack of wilderness "bear"-able.

We offer plastic bags to our customers (surprise surprise). A fossil fuel product. A fact that does not escape me and I often make a silly joke about it when a customer denies the bag. The other day my comedic exchange at the checkout went on a bit more than usual and, well, here it is: 

"Would you like a bag with that?" I asked the middle aged man in glasses standing across the counter.

"No, that is alright I can carry it", he said while shuffling for his keys and checking his wallet.

"Sweet! Save the Dinosaurs man!"

"It is a bit too late for them now don't you think?" he asked with an upturned brow.

"Yeah, and it is also probably too late for us now!", I quickly remarked and followed with a slight chuckle.

There was a short pause as the gentlemen reflected on what I said. He looked at me a bit surprised and confused, "You think so?".

"I think you should take the bag".

The man smiled at me, thanked me for my help and left our store without the bag but with his petroleum based fleece, from a massive publicly traded conglomerate that has it's hand in global consumer capitalism and cheap production labor. At least they were part of "1% for the planet". Yeah, we are going to save this place alright!

-MG