Sunday, October 25, 2015

A Perfect Day with the Buddies, Canyon Ridge, October 24th, 2015


October 24th was my birthday and I did what I most like to do: an Autumn hike in the Mount Baker wilderness with my buddies. We took the Canyon Ridge trail through high mountain old growth forest with ancient hemlocks, silver fir, Doug fir. Dry mushrooms--boletes, russula--marked our path. An owl hooted in the distance. The mountain was grand, the trail especially quiet, with the exception of a stellar's jay that followed us along the way, making its squawking noises. Here we  Buddies are together looking out at Mount Baker in its glory.

 Clouds forming over Mount Baker on the lonely trail out to Canyon Ridge.

 Happy Mar enjoying his forest walk.
 What has been hitting me lately in our walks is the intricate textures of each overlook. A variety of trees at different ages, avalanche chutes, complex valleys--could you imagine an overland walk to the point on the upper right portion of the picture?

As a gift to ourselves, a birthday gift for me and a 6 and 1/2-year anniversary gift to ourselves, we got these shiny objects to display our buddy power. Made by Jerrod Galanin, a Tlingit Unangan multi-media artist from Sitka, Alaska. Kirsten's ring has a raven on it and my bracelet has a bear eating a salmon. With both of our spirit animals represented, we have Buddy Power!



We came down the mountain and had a delightful pizza and some lovely porter at The North Fork Brewery and Beer Shrine​. 

Sunday, October 18, 2015

Bell Pass


Easton Glacier on the South Side of Mount Baker from the lonely Bell Pass trail.

Pensive Mar

Fleeting Lu

Sunday, October 11, 2015

ELECTRO-STAY




 An ecotone is a region of transition between two biological communities. In this case, the wild backside of a wilderness full of cougars and bears meets the front porch of a seaside community and its electrical supply. We sat under this electrical substation, the wires buzzing. It would have been a perfect place to see a cougar or an alien.

The electrical field must have been so powerful that it completely fouled my navigational device, which put us somewhere off the coast of West Africa. It was a strange portal we walked into. 

Monday, October 05, 2015

Rainbow Ridge...the backside of Mount Baker

Eyeing adventure

Adventure Buddies




Mar and a deep basin of glaciers, scree, and bears popping out from dark hollows.





A resting point.


The reflection of Mount Bacon on Watson Lake # 1.


Glassing goats

Monday, September 28, 2015

Entering The Portals: A 2015 visit to Ptarmigan Ridge

Photographer on the edge. Entering the Portals, a route climbers take to reach the summit of Mount Baker.

Baker Lake in the distance

Mount Shuksan looming large from Artist Point.

Glaciers and rugged rock.

Glaciers and rock.

What a day and what a backdrop to capture images of nature.

A perfect end to the day.

Fall in rugged British Columbia


This bright orb was not the sun but the unmuted, bright moon, as close to the earth as it will be for who knows how many years, its light shimmering on our canoe in the wild rugged BC ranch lands. Imagine the sounds of a great horned owl serenading. We came face to face with him the following morning.

A cold night camping in BC. 20-something Fahrenheit or - 4 Celsius made for dew on our tent.


Mar with fall foliage of aspens and cottonwoods.


Buddies running together, being together, always together, that's the best thing in the world.


Monday, August 03, 2015

We all have a Bristol Bay and a Pebble Mine in our backyards

We all have a Bristol Bay and a Pebble Mine in our backyards.

Alaska produces a huge amount of protein for the rest of the world. Alaska fisheries are a model for not only for sustainable seafood but sustainable food in general—it’s a place where science-based management still takes precedence; fisheries are managed so that future generations of fishermen can fish the same way their forebears did. As wild fish like salmon, halibut, and sablefish are some of the last commercially available wild meats left on this planet, Alaska really is our last chance as human beings to get this right.  

The connection between wild food and people’s needs makes clear the idea that we need to take care of where we live. When we take care of where we live we take care of ourselves.

I work for a fishermen's cooperative. Owned and operated by 590+ small boat fishermen, we are essentially 590 small American businesses in one. 

Lance Preston with a line-caught salmon, the "Craft Beer of Seafood"
These small family businesses depend on the resources.  Small American family businesses like the Duna, owned by Amy Grondin and her husband Greg fish for salmon so that people around the world can enjoy a quality protein, known for its plentiful numbers and brain and heart-healthy properties. There’s also Lance Preston, who calls the salmon he catches on  the Seaboy, his classic wooden troller, “the craft beer of seafood.”

These are the farmers of the sea who fish because of the pride in quality in harvesting a sustainable healthy food for our nation and others. All of us who fish or depend on catching wild fish for a living are in it for the long haul. It’s a way of life that we’d like to pass down to future generations.
Amy Grondin fishes for sustainable seafood on the Duna.


Given that salmon start their lives in rivers and creeks, shaded by trees, they are the canary in a coal mine of a human existence that depends on clean water and nurtured earth. They’re the indicator of how healthy a watershed is. They warn us when we’ve been too rapacious in our logging practices. They feed noble creatures like bears and bald eagles and in turn their digested carcasses fertilize the forest. Their existence and thriving is nature’s reward for our being stewards of their habitat.

Before we build something, a good way to determine whether what we’re doing is right or wrong is to look at it through the eyes of a salmon.

Should we build a dam? Should we pour a ton of chemicals on our lawns? Should we extract resources for the benefit of very few at the expense of a great many?

There are 10 open pit mines operating on the British Columbia side of the border that separates Alaska from Canada. These mines operate near the headwaters of the Stikine, the Taku, and the Unuk rivers, what is essentially the breadbasket of Southeast Alaska.

These mines carry with them so many risks that no insurance company will write a policy for them. So, tax payers are on the hook not if but when the integrity of these mines is breached. Because all of these mines give and leach toxic tailings into the water where they work.

It’s not even a question of mine or no mine. There are gold mines on the Juneau side of the border. But they operate with dry stack tailings rather than water tailings. These dry stack tailings cost more to operate but do not have as great an impact on the water and surrounding environment, thereby keeping salmon safer.

There is nobody not at risk in Southeast Alaska from the danger of the mines in British Columbia. Yet there is no incentive for the Canadian mining companies not to mine in egregious manners that detriment the lives of thousands of Alaskan families and really the breadbasket and heart of some of the last really wild protein sources on this planet.
A 1909 treaty between the United States and Canada states, “Waters flowing across the boundary shall not be polluted on either side to the injury or health of property on the other.”

Do we have to wait until the tailings from these mines pollute our water, everybody’s water?

Everything that we have that sustains life comes from the dirt upon which we stand. Our natural surroundings determine how we live our lives.


Go to http://www.salmonbeyondborders.org/ to figure out what to do.

Saturday, August 01, 2015

Last thoughts on Jerry Garcia

If nothing else, Jerry Garcia was an encyclopedia of American music. Unlike a lot of the more highly regarded guitar players, he didn’t force his style onto the music but rather studied the genre, understanding its nuances, capturing its feel, but also making it his own.


Whether it was blues, gospel, soul, R & B or country, he made it fit without forcing it. Evident in his rendition of Hank Williams’ “You Win Again” on Europe ‘72, Johnny Cash’s “Big River” on any given night in late 1973, Buddy Holly’s “Not Fade Away” from 4-22-78, or Chuck Berry’s “Johnny B. Goode” from 11-17-72, here is a guy who studied the music. He understood the essence of what made it great. And if ever there was a doubt he could shred, his solo on Otis Redding's "Hard to Handle" from 8-6-71 eviscerates any blues guitar solo I can think of.


It wasn’t just his deep study of those who came before him. Blending that American sound into his own space jazz, he used his American roots sound to explore and grow the music. On a “Dark Star” from 11-11-73 or a “Playing in the Band” from 8-27-72 or a “The Other One” from 4-26-72, here is a guy who with his band took music out to its furthest frontiers, further than even Coltrane or Miles or Sun-Ra, which to me is saying a lot.


Garcia understood dynamics and the subtlety of phrasing. His singing voice is debatable, but his impeccable phrasing unparalleled. It wasn’t just that he studied the notes. He got the feel and all the space between the notes right.


All great musicians have to work hard but it felt like Garcia worked even harder. He didn’t seem like a natural born genius, but rather someone approachable who gave his heart and soul to the music. Or at least that’s what came off when he played. And music was his life. I just think of a year like ‘73 in which the Dead played close to 100 shows. Garcia played banjo in dozens more with his bluegrass group Old & In the Way and spent his free time running up and down the Peninsula and East Bay playing electric in clubs. It’s conceivable he played close to 250 maybe even 300 gigs that year and a number of other years in the 70s. And in between shows and sets, you could always find him with a guitar in his hands.

I won’t say Garcia was the greatest guitarist of all time, though certainly he deserves a mention for Top 5. What we have with Garcia is the musician who most embodied the American ideal--that wild footloose adventure of freedom both buoyant with carefree exuberance and tumescent with a dark self-destructive tragedy. His music was populated by rambling, gambling ne'er-do-wells exploring the geography of hope, that restless frontier. These wanderers are compelling, endearing, complex, worthy of novels. They embody the concept of the Grateful Dead, one of the oldest in religion, folklore, literature and music. “A person dies and leaves a promise unfulfilled,” explained Garcia once in an interview. “That person becomes restless in the grave and strikes a deal with a living person to fulfill the terms of the promise. Once that promise is fulfilled, the dead become ‘the grateful dead.’” When they were great, the Dead were like that promise fulfilled, a spiritual renewal could be felt in their music, a sort of redemption for all that wildness. 

In Garcia, we have the essence of American music and so much more than the circus that sprung up around him and followed him wherever he went.