On a bright friday morning, I was on my usual commute. My 91 Camry (aka Indiamobile in friendly circles), with 152467 miles on the odometer, rushing north, logging its daily quota of 126 miles. Cruise control (it still works) was set to exact speed limit of 75 mph and NPR news was lamenting the exploding cars in Iraq. And that is when I noticed the familiar dancing lights atop the police cruiser behind me. The usual routine started with the officer,”I have been watching you for over ten minutes now. You were driving in the left lane”. And my thoughts were – Shouldn’t you be enforcing law somewhere. And what in the world was this left lane thing. If I trampled over an imaginary object in the left lane, I am very sorry. The words however were, “I was within the speed limits, officer”. More inquiry followed, “Didn’t you notice the sign posted back there”? My thoughts – you mean to say that sign board of the size of a postage stamp. My alter ego kicked in with his own thoughts,” Officer, he was too dumb to notice you for more than ten minutes, how do you expect him to notice a sign”.
I learned afterwards that officer was actually enforcing a law, a recently dusted off Colorado statute 42-4-1013, which clearly states – A person shall not drive a motor vehicle in left lane of the highway of speed limit 65 mph or more unless such person is passing other vehicles that are in a non passing lane or turning left, or unless the volume of traffic does not permit the motor vehicle to safely merge into the non passing lane. Such lucid description seems to be handiwork of a lawyer on a state payroll, trying to justify his job.
A week later, I made my peace with the “Left Lane Mafia” by parting company with a sum of forty five dollars.
My chequered criminal history in the arena of traffic goes back a bit. In Texas, a friend of mine (John Doe I) was a famed ticket collector. A zig-zag trail of ticket collection he blazed covered a good number of counties in the state and the vicinity. At one time, he even tried going about it alphabetically. You can only imagine the peer pressure for me.
A friendly one
One morning, I received a harried call from a dear friend (John Doe II),” Hey, my car was stolen last night”. Generally my reaction to such calls is friendly and sympathetic but having known John Doe II, it was a tad interrogative,” Did you park again in the spot, which has a sign as if a guy is sitting on a chair – a sign you are more used to seeing on public rest rooms?” His initial surprise was followed with defensive,” but everyone parks there”. Of course everyone does, that is one of the disadvantages of living in a gated complex with high incident rate of cerebral handicap. So we agreed to pick up his car first. A slight hurry, misplaced pressure on the gas pedal and there “HE” was, waiting at the strategic location by the side of Krispy Kreme, sadistically mixing work and pleasure – “You folks seem to headed somewhere in a hurry this morning. Any emergency?” And I confessed, ”Officer, we were speeding to the tow-car lot to pick up my esteemed fellow passenger’s car, which he had parked in the handicap spot. Now please tell us, how we can contribute to the donut kitty for the Texas’ finest”.
Don’t mess with Texas….and Arkansas
While returning from a weekend in Ozarks of Arkansas, I was pulled over for venturing into the unexplored territory of the speedometer of my vehicle. Later, swayed by the anti-Arkansas lobby in Texas, I assumed that state is truly behind the curve and I left the US for an extended vacation without paying the ticket. Upon my return, among the other bills, a letter declaring that warrant for my arrest have been issued in the state of Arkansas was waiting for me. Since then, I have become so prompt in paying off my good citizen dues that I can easily qualify for a good payer discount.
The unfair one…perhaps to the cop too
The incident occurred during the somewhat chaotic days of post September 2001, in a small north Texas town of Memphis (pop. 2479). You might think “unfair” when a cop tells you, “you were still 20 ft. behind the 45 mph zone board, when you started speeding up. I clocked you at 43 mph”. However before you argue the “perceived unfairness”, make sure that you are not wearing a turban, cop is not standing one foot behind the window with one hand on his gun, he is not eyeing the large unmarked transparent bag of wheat flour in the back of your truck and latest news headlines do not contain the word…..ANTHRAX. If so, just offer an apology and take the serving from ticket buffet.
When I promptly called the county court to pay this ticket, the person told me that he was unable to locate my record. And then suddenly he asked, “Was the cop who gave you the ticket was a fat one”? Well, he sure had some serious gravitational pull, if that is what you mean. And for next few minutes, a rant about a lazy cop from a responsible court officer was served free of charge.
I have a ticket…but it is not for you
With our golf bags in the back of my truck, my friend (John Doe III, most venerable of the Doe family) and I were headed for another round at the links when we were strangely pulled over. This time I was sure that I haven’t broken any traffic rule whatsoever. Even more strangely, the cop approached us from the passenger side window. John Doe III enquired, “Officer, what’s the problem”? And officer replied, ”Sir you are. You are not wearing a seat belt”.
I can tell you with absolute certainty that if you ever receive a ticket, while sitting in the passenger seat of someone else’s vehicle, the expletive section of your vocabulary will tend to suddenly grow by a many orders of magnitude and it might contain certain additions, which were banned from use during the first meeting of the United Nations.
Unsure about the deadly linguistic viruses and bacteria left floating in the small cabin of my Frontier, I almost called CDC for a decontamination procedure. Thank almighty for my good, extremely devout and very humorous friend (Jane Doe), who came armed with her collection of cleansing "Bhakti Sangeet". I guess, finally it was Anup Jalota's "Aisa Mantar Maro Prabhu Ji", which restored the air to its baseline levels.
And it all started here...
I had just arrived in the US and started the graduate school when I received my first crown jewel of the upcoming series. At that time, I did not have a car or even a driver’s license for that matter. I was on a rickety bicycle when I failed to make a “dead stop” at the stop sign. My good intentions of slowing down to zero+ speed and checking for a (non-existent) traffic were dismissed as groundless facts under the traffic law. I knew I was going to like living in the US, when my ticket carried more value ($35) than my ride ($20). Realizing my foreigner status, the cop offered me a way out of the financial quandary– a Defensive Biking class. Yes, only the chosen few receive this biped-centric education, which is a genetic offshoot of its well-known and certainly well-attended quadruped-centric “Defensive driving class”.
So folks, if you see me approaching you on a bicycle at sub-mach velocities, just relax. I might have learned to pedal on the dusty streets of my village in Punjab, but my re-training comes with a seal of approval from none other than Arizona Police Department.
Disclaimer : All incidents and characters described here are figments of my imagination. And thus, any perceived resembelance to certain homo sapiens must be a figment of yours.
Glossary :
Bhakti Sangeet : Gospel Music
Aisa Mantar Maro Prabhu Ji : O Lord, Do thy magic.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Monday, September 3, 2007
Longs Peak : Second Attempt - 2007
I was lying on my couch in widely recognized male-comfort position, where body is parallel to the ground, one’s head is a notch above the horizontal line passing through the center of gravity, eyes are on TV and the fingers on the remote control. The comely newscaster declared,” Colorado has been deemed leanest state in the united states, once more”. There was a time I could bolt upright just at the sight of declaration making comely newscasters; now I just helped myself to an extra pillow to get my aural devices in line of approaching sound waves.
Though climbing, the obesity rate of the state of Colorado, the Mecca of outdoors-men (and ladies), stands at only 17.6%, national average being 31%. A minor berating of certain southern states, which followed in the news, was expected. In these states, the obesity has reached such gigantic proportions that Bush approved US internal spy satellites were beginning to lock on the large ambulatory objects with somewhat mysterious internal combustion mechanisms. The state officials of Colorado blame its increasing obesity rate on people moving in from state of Texas……hmmm…….(expletive) state officials of Colorado.
I ruminated for a while, got up from the couch and declared to my wife,” I will be climbing Longs Peak this labor day weekend”. She raised her right eyebrow at 30 degrees, while managing keep other horizontal, and demanded to handover the remote. More disturbing was the suppressed laughter coming from the subcutaneous fat down below. The homesteader has been working on establishing a permanent domicile in the mid-section suburbs of my body. I ignore it all the time.
Last time I tried to go up Longs Peak was in 2004. In the meantime, I have gotten married and have been learning to negotiate the slippery slopes of marital life, a subject matter so vast that it occupies its own three aisles at Barnes and Noble. Though euphemistically, they are labeled as “SELF-HELP”. Well, they sure have helped the struggling fortunes of some. And, in the Garden of Eden, Adam said to Eve, “Honey, I am more than half way through the book (Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus) you gave me for our first anniversary. Can I finish it after the labor day weekend”?
With great determination, I dusted off my hiking gear, packed up the essentials, slipped out of work on Friday afternoon and on the way to Estes Park. I tried but that evening I could get only three hours of semi-sleep before the 11:15 alarm buzzed off. I utilized the “Snooze” function till 11:45. Then I got up, got ready and was at the trailhead parking at 12:30 AM. It was quite dark and few more groups were getting ready to go up. Time to give the gear a final check - food bars, water packs, first-aid, lights, matches and lastly, a small flask with some Johnnie Walker (helps me through the pain). The helpful instruction at the trailhead says – Try not to go alone. Many hikers go up alone claiming that there is nothing to worry as God is with them. Well, things are fine as long as God is with you. Search and rescue missions are launched only after you try to be with God. Deference to the mountain is supreme. On an average, one person dies every year on Longs Peak. I was a little stupid to go alone, however I did join a Venezuelan student, who was not surprised by my Spanish. I have been taken for a Mexican before. One can find plenty of company on this well trampled trail but better to accompany a friend you can really count on. A decision always on the safe side is a good decision on this mountain.
I signed on the register at the trailhead, tapped a warning to my subcutaneous friend, and exactly at 12:52 AM in the morning, I walked into the forest. I had been to keyhole before, though starting earlier is always good. When city lights became visible at 12000 ft., I fiddled with camera to figure out, how to increase the exposure to take night pictures. Success achieved. It was chilly and somewhat windy, but otherwise, it was a clear, pleasant moonlit night with stars. I arrived at the Boulder field (5.9 miles from trailhead) at 4:30 AM and took my munch break. Protein bars washed down with water and Gatorade. Living in a mile high city seemed to have helped me with acclimation. Climbing up the boulder field to keyhole was the first real taste of difficulty. Sun wasn’t up and we debated as to if we should get on the ledges in this low light. Then we just tagged with four other climbers, who were moving swiftly over the ledges. On these ledges alongside some 1000 foot cliffs, is the first time, climbers feel exposed. Look down and thousands of feet below, you see mother earth…waiting.
I could see the roving headlights of a few climbers, who were already quite a bit ahead. The bulls-eye is painted on the rocks to guide the climbers. The quarter mile distance on ledges culminates in the onset of a section called the “Troughs’. This is a steep climb with about 700 ft. of vertical gain and I began to feel the altitude effect. I could hear my lungs rebelling against me. I tried to take full gulps of air but it just stopped short. Story goes that “Troughs” is where the mountain attempts to turn around the ones, who are unworthy of the summit. I just followed the trusted method of breaking down the climb into smaller sections….climb, rest, climb, rest. Halfway through it, I realized that Sun has been out and I clicked my first clear pictures. I could see only one climber behind me. The sweeping vistas of the North were simply 'breathtaking'. Close to the top of the trough, I encountered a couple who have been hit by altitude sickness. Throwing up is common at these heights. At the top of the Troughs, a tricky corner turn has to be taken over a large rock. A small foothold in the step, push up with your foot and grab the rock ledge above in one go. Use your knee to drag yourself up. Though do-able (saw a girl doing it on my way down), I advise not trying going from the right side which is sloped. The slip there could be unforgiving…at least 200 ft. unforgiving.
I hardly had few seconds of elation crossing the “Troughs”, when I stared at the section called the “Narrows”. They sure do live up to their name, nastier version of the ledges. This is where climbers are most exposed. Slow, steady and extremely careful. I was surprised to encounter three climbers here who were returning from the summit. These people must have climbed all this in the dark on their way up….unbelievable. The two way traffic on the narrows gets quite interesting.
The Narrows again culminate in a turn, where 15-20 ft. of tough and risky climb is needed to get one over into the base of the section called the “homestretch”. A steep climb resulting in 250 ft. of vertical gain and summit awaits. I was thoroughly exhausted here and my head floated a little. I could see my Venezuelan fellow and another experienced climber, some fifty feet ahead of me, going up with relative ease. I just made a run for it…after all, it was Homestretch. Precisely at 7:32 AM, I stood at 14259 foot, highest ground I ever touched. Besides my Venezuelan fellow, there were two more climbers up there. The summit, as I had read, was quite large area full of rocks and the panoramic views.....views to just die for. We clicked our accomplishments. A few clouds were gathering and few minutes later, we began the difficult task of getting down. It was equally exhausting. I encountered a heavy upward traffic at the troughs. My knees and feet were beginning to ache a lot. Two Advils did not help much but I got down to Keyhole at 9:35 AM.
I was awake for quite a while now and it was beginning to show in my responses. I began a slow descent to the trailhead. Close to the trailhead, a lady ranger congratulated me and asked me when I will be back again. And I said, “Never, I have marked it off the checklist”. But I know that the pull of the trail is magnetic. I threw my gear into the truck and lied down for a nap. I was on the terrain for exactly thirteen hours. The time was precisely at 1:52 PM.
Though climbing, the obesity rate of the state of Colorado, the Mecca of outdoors-men (and ladies), stands at only 17.6%, national average being 31%. A minor berating of certain southern states, which followed in the news, was expected. In these states, the obesity has reached such gigantic proportions that Bush approved US internal spy satellites were beginning to lock on the large ambulatory objects with somewhat mysterious internal combustion mechanisms. The state officials of Colorado blame its increasing obesity rate on people moving in from state of Texas……hmmm…….(expletive) state officials of Colorado.
I ruminated for a while, got up from the couch and declared to my wife,” I will be climbing Longs Peak this labor day weekend”. She raised her right eyebrow at 30 degrees, while managing keep other horizontal, and demanded to handover the remote. More disturbing was the suppressed laughter coming from the subcutaneous fat down below. The homesteader has been working on establishing a permanent domicile in the mid-section suburbs of my body. I ignore it all the time.
Last time I tried to go up Longs Peak was in 2004. In the meantime, I have gotten married and have been learning to negotiate the slippery slopes of marital life, a subject matter so vast that it occupies its own three aisles at Barnes and Noble. Though euphemistically, they are labeled as “SELF-HELP”. Well, they sure have helped the struggling fortunes of some. And, in the Garden of Eden, Adam said to Eve, “Honey, I am more than half way through the book (Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus) you gave me for our first anniversary. Can I finish it after the labor day weekend”?
With great determination, I dusted off my hiking gear, packed up the essentials, slipped out of work on Friday afternoon and on the way to Estes Park. I tried but that evening I could get only three hours of semi-sleep before the 11:15 alarm buzzed off. I utilized the “Snooze” function till 11:45. Then I got up, got ready and was at the trailhead parking at 12:30 AM. It was quite dark and few more groups were getting ready to go up. Time to give the gear a final check - food bars, water packs, first-aid, lights, matches and lastly, a small flask with some Johnnie Walker (helps me through the pain). The helpful instruction at the trailhead says – Try not to go alone. Many hikers go up alone claiming that there is nothing to worry as God is with them. Well, things are fine as long as God is with you. Search and rescue missions are launched only after you try to be with God. Deference to the mountain is supreme. On an average, one person dies every year on Longs Peak. I was a little stupid to go alone, however I did join a Venezuelan student, who was not surprised by my Spanish. I have been taken for a Mexican before. One can find plenty of company on this well trampled trail but better to accompany a friend you can really count on. A decision always on the safe side is a good decision on this mountain.
I signed on the register at the trailhead, tapped a warning to my subcutaneous friend, and exactly at 12:52 AM in the morning, I walked into the forest. I had been to keyhole before, though starting earlier is always good. When city lights became visible at 12000 ft., I fiddled with camera to figure out, how to increase the exposure to take night pictures. Success achieved. It was chilly and somewhat windy, but otherwise, it was a clear, pleasant moonlit night with stars. I arrived at the Boulder field (5.9 miles from trailhead) at 4:30 AM and took my munch break. Protein bars washed down with water and Gatorade. Living in a mile high city seemed to have helped me with acclimation. Climbing up the boulder field to keyhole was the first real taste of difficulty. Sun wasn’t up and we debated as to if we should get on the ledges in this low light. Then we just tagged with four other climbers, who were moving swiftly over the ledges. On these ledges alongside some 1000 foot cliffs, is the first time, climbers feel exposed. Look down and thousands of feet below, you see mother earth…waiting.
I could see the roving headlights of a few climbers, who were already quite a bit ahead. The bulls-eye is painted on the rocks to guide the climbers. The quarter mile distance on ledges culminates in the onset of a section called the “Troughs’. This is a steep climb with about 700 ft. of vertical gain and I began to feel the altitude effect. I could hear my lungs rebelling against me. I tried to take full gulps of air but it just stopped short. Story goes that “Troughs” is where the mountain attempts to turn around the ones, who are unworthy of the summit. I just followed the trusted method of breaking down the climb into smaller sections….climb, rest, climb, rest. Halfway through it, I realized that Sun has been out and I clicked my first clear pictures. I could see only one climber behind me. The sweeping vistas of the North were simply 'breathtaking'. Close to the top of the trough, I encountered a couple who have been hit by altitude sickness. Throwing up is common at these heights. At the top of the Troughs, a tricky corner turn has to be taken over a large rock. A small foothold in the step, push up with your foot and grab the rock ledge above in one go. Use your knee to drag yourself up. Though do-able (saw a girl doing it on my way down), I advise not trying going from the right side which is sloped. The slip there could be unforgiving…at least 200 ft. unforgiving.
I hardly had few seconds of elation crossing the “Troughs”, when I stared at the section called the “Narrows”. They sure do live up to their name, nastier version of the ledges. This is where climbers are most exposed. Slow, steady and extremely careful. I was surprised to encounter three climbers here who were returning from the summit. These people must have climbed all this in the dark on their way up….unbelievable. The two way traffic on the narrows gets quite interesting.
The Narrows again culminate in a turn, where 15-20 ft. of tough and risky climb is needed to get one over into the base of the section called the “homestretch”. A steep climb resulting in 250 ft. of vertical gain and summit awaits. I was thoroughly exhausted here and my head floated a little. I could see my Venezuelan fellow and another experienced climber, some fifty feet ahead of me, going up with relative ease. I just made a run for it…after all, it was Homestretch. Precisely at 7:32 AM, I stood at 14259 foot, highest ground I ever touched. Besides my Venezuelan fellow, there were two more climbers up there. The summit, as I had read, was quite large area full of rocks and the panoramic views.....views to just die for. We clicked our accomplishments. A few clouds were gathering and few minutes later, we began the difficult task of getting down. It was equally exhausting. I encountered a heavy upward traffic at the troughs. My knees and feet were beginning to ache a lot. Two Advils did not help much but I got down to Keyhole at 9:35 AM.
I was awake for quite a while now and it was beginning to show in my responses. I began a slow descent to the trailhead. Close to the trailhead, a lady ranger congratulated me and asked me when I will be back again. And I said, “Never, I have marked it off the checklist”. But I know that the pull of the trail is magnetic. I threw my gear into the truck and lied down for a nap. I was on the terrain for exactly thirteen hours. The time was precisely at 1:52 PM.
A Climb up Longs Peak - 2004
So I live in Colorado now. And hence, I have become that quasi-outdoor person who rides bicycle to work, goes for Skiing and goes for a jog when ashamed by his 50-year-old neighbor who runs in local marathons. But must I climb as well. Motivated by an urge to prove that my thirty-something frame can still take it, I decided to take on LONGS PEAK, the highest non-technical climb of the Colorado Rockies. I was told that climb is not very difficult, just long. Seven and half mile each way, to be precise. The base camp is an altitude of 9500 ft. and Peak top stands over 14259 ft. Peak is open to non technical climbers for two months a year during summer time. My comrade-in-arms Sardar Arvinder Pal Singh agreed to join but chickened out later. AP Singh lives in Wisconsin and the tallest thing he has ever climbed is his two-storey office building.
One has to start early in the morning, no later than 2:00-3:00 AM (Yikes!!!). Otherwise, you might get caught in afternoon thunderstorms and nature god always looks for an easy sacrifice. I camped out in the nearby Estes Park the night before, picked my backpack and started at 2:45 AM. First two miles is an easy hike through a dense forest, which has to be dealt with your headlight on. As steepness increased, I began to feel the impact of my heroic anti-gravity performance. I got to experience, first hand, the symptoms of altitude sickness. Fortunately I was well prepared. Consume a lot of water and pace yourself with frequent but short breaks. Only thing I did not feel short of was “shortness of breath”. For someone who spent a good part of his life in plains of Punjab, I sure do need a lot of oxygen, which was apparently absent at those altitudes.
Every now and then a slight drizzle ensued and rain gear came in handy. On Longs peak, as you go higher, the lights of surrounding cities become visible one by one. First Longmont, Boulder and then Denver. If you look up, you will catch a shooting star as well. Wish for more wisdom, if you see one….
Around 6:00 AM, the Sun began to rise and it gave a golden glow to the mountains around. I took a few pictures and treaded on. After some 5 miles, I reached Boulder field. It is named so as the place is full of Volkswagen size boulders. There is no exact trail here and you have to just jump from one boulder to another in the general direction of “Keyhole”, which is visible from far….
Unfortunately, in spite of summer time, it had snowed the night before and most of the boulders were covered with thin sheet of ice. I decided to go up to keyhole avoiding any major slips. While close, I saw a fellow climber ahead of me falling hard…. and I thought I heard a crack. The person was OK. The cracking noise was that of my broken resolve. I got close but wisdom prevailed and I made a U-turn.
I took a few more pictures, cursed the snow god for a missed chance and turned around. Return journey though is with gravity but still very difficult as there is a lot of thumping on the knees. With good sunlight, I got a panoramic view of Rockies. I made back to the base by 11:00 AM, thus covering some eleven miles in eight hours. My legs felt like a ton of bricks that night. I wish there was no snow, I wish I had taken some gear to handle snow, I wish Arvinder Pal Singh had joined me…...well there will be more chances down the road....
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