While skiing on Sunday, Dad and I met up with a couple of other instructors and regulars while out on the trail Dudley Do-Right.
"Did you see The Porcupine Trail?" They asked.
"There's one up there and just down there."
We hadn't. We skied a bit down and stopped above one of those trails of anti-freeze that Snow Cats sometimes leave while grooming the trails late at night. Except, on closer inspection, this trail had quills. And bits of flesh.
This was where a porcupine, an animal with no natural predators on the mountain, had met its end in the steely crush of a rolling tread. Not unlike a tank tread. There were some skull fragments. There was a complete claw. Which, despite the best efforts of one of the guys, would not be stuck to a nearby light pole.
"Best groomed porcupine in all of Maine."
16.1.08
Skiing
I've been skiing this year. It was pretty good. The snow was OK and the weather was phenomenal and the slopes weren't crowded.
I skied up to Mt. Abram. It's about an hour and a half from here in Portland, but a lovely drive up Route 26. Plus I've been skiing there for 22 odd years. Plus Dad gets me in for free.
Plus it's part of the ritual. Skiing has a whole, unrecognized ritual which is equally as important to the experience as whizzing down the trails on a pair of flat boards. Or on a single board if that's your (lame) "style."
Kidding! Snowboarding's OK. And we can all agree it beats the hell out of telemarking.
So the ritual. Get up early on a weekend day. Pack your stuff. You need a whole new suit for this exercise. You pack your snow pants, parka, mittens, spare gloves, specialized boots, hats, goggles, scarves, face warmers, sweatshirts and extra layers. Grab the skis and the poles and throw them in the car.
Drive out to the country.
Often a scenic and lovely drive. Route 26 certainly is.
Arrive. Unpack the car. Purchase your ticket. Change! This is an important part of the ritual indeed. You can't just change. It's important that as you're putting on your ridiculous costume which (ridiculous though it may be) will keep you warm and dry you chat with the folks changing around you. Talk about favorite trails. Things you've missed. Funny anecdotes about desperately having to pee while out skiing (happens to everyone). What sort of liquor you have in your flask.
Make sure you're wearing a sweater. And a sweater you normally wouldn't be caught dead in. A sweater that would embarrass one of those snooty frat guys in College Movies. It's important.
You're all set. You've strapped on your bulky boots which make walking a new adventure (though I'm a pro). Stumble out of the lodge, grab your skis. Click in. Get in the lift line.
Ride up. Enjoy it. When was the last time you were hanging out in a chair lift? Floating twenty or more feet in the air. Turn around, crane your neck around and look awkwardly above the heads of those on the lift behind you. You can see for miles across wilderness and snow and roads carving patchwork patterns across the landscape. Occasionally a cell tower juts up or a silo. Appreciate the majesty of what you're about to do. Think about the edges of your skis melting the snow to water as you turn. The sounds you'll hear. Maybe you'll start a conversation and have to stop for the wind rushing past your ears. Maybe you'll keep shouting louder and louder. What will this view look like when you're descending the mountainside at 30 MPH on a pair of thin wooden planks with sharp metal edges?
Slide off the lift. Maybe you've got a favorite first run. Maybe you're playing it by ear. Letting the skis decide. Either way, inhale, point them boards downhill and push, because baby you're off.
And at first it's a little slow going while you remember what to do. For some (ahem) this is only a turn or two. For others it's most of a trail. Some might even need refresher lessons.
My favorite thing to do when skiing is to try and not think at all. To try and almost achieve a sort of Zen-trance. Those moments of pure ecstasy as your edge sinks in after a rooster tail cascade of snow shot up and you take off on a turn. Go over to the edges and feel some of that untraveled and still fresh snow. Traverse the middle and watch out for bumps. Catch a little air.
Stop. Breathe. Look around.
Think about technique. Think about other people's techniques. There used to be a guy who skied Mt. Abram fairly regularly who would put his poles up to his armpits and hold his arms out like a T. His turns weren't great but he'd try and touch the tip of his pole to the ground, dragging it for a few yards before turning the other way. He wasn't the most technically accomplished skier. But he was a Skier. He was there for himself, appreciating his sport in the way only he could.
Slide to a stop at the bottom.
Get ready to do it again. But beware, Gravity is a Harsh Mistress and you might well fall. It's all part of the experience, though. Laugh it off. Even if you've broken something, you broke it while skiing. It's a story. Something for the lounge after the day is out. They've got Ski Patrols for that sorta shit, anyway (Mt. Abram's Ski Patrol motto: You bag it, we drag it).
After a while, you need some hot chocolate. Your face is a bit chilled. You're invigorated by the cold but your legs need a minute. You just like hot chocolate. You'll need it at some point. Ski down to the lodge, pop out of your bindings. Clunk into the cafeteria area. Put one of the cups under the Hot Chocolate machine and press the button as in a nearly profane orgasm of hot water and chocolate mix your cup is filled. Wait! Release the button just a moment after the machine recommends. It's better this way.
Sip.
Enjoy.
Do it all again.
I skied up to Mt. Abram. It's about an hour and a half from here in Portland, but a lovely drive up Route 26. Plus I've been skiing there for 22 odd years. Plus Dad gets me in for free.
Plus it's part of the ritual. Skiing has a whole, unrecognized ritual which is equally as important to the experience as whizzing down the trails on a pair of flat boards. Or on a single board if that's your (lame) "style."
Kidding! Snowboarding's OK. And we can all agree it beats the hell out of telemarking.
So the ritual. Get up early on a weekend day. Pack your stuff. You need a whole new suit for this exercise. You pack your snow pants, parka, mittens, spare gloves, specialized boots, hats, goggles, scarves, face warmers, sweatshirts and extra layers. Grab the skis and the poles and throw them in the car.
Drive out to the country.
Often a scenic and lovely drive. Route 26 certainly is.
Arrive. Unpack the car. Purchase your ticket. Change! This is an important part of the ritual indeed. You can't just change. It's important that as you're putting on your ridiculous costume which (ridiculous though it may be) will keep you warm and dry you chat with the folks changing around you. Talk about favorite trails. Things you've missed. Funny anecdotes about desperately having to pee while out skiing (happens to everyone). What sort of liquor you have in your flask.
Make sure you're wearing a sweater. And a sweater you normally wouldn't be caught dead in. A sweater that would embarrass one of those snooty frat guys in College Movies. It's important.
You're all set. You've strapped on your bulky boots which make walking a new adventure (though I'm a pro). Stumble out of the lodge, grab your skis. Click in. Get in the lift line.
Ride up. Enjoy it. When was the last time you were hanging out in a chair lift? Floating twenty or more feet in the air. Turn around, crane your neck around and look awkwardly above the heads of those on the lift behind you. You can see for miles across wilderness and snow and roads carving patchwork patterns across the landscape. Occasionally a cell tower juts up or a silo. Appreciate the majesty of what you're about to do. Think about the edges of your skis melting the snow to water as you turn. The sounds you'll hear. Maybe you'll start a conversation and have to stop for the wind rushing past your ears. Maybe you'll keep shouting louder and louder. What will this view look like when you're descending the mountainside at 30 MPH on a pair of thin wooden planks with sharp metal edges?
Slide off the lift. Maybe you've got a favorite first run. Maybe you're playing it by ear. Letting the skis decide. Either way, inhale, point them boards downhill and push, because baby you're off.
And at first it's a little slow going while you remember what to do. For some (ahem) this is only a turn or two. For others it's most of a trail. Some might even need refresher lessons.
My favorite thing to do when skiing is to try and not think at all. To try and almost achieve a sort of Zen-trance. Those moments of pure ecstasy as your edge sinks in after a rooster tail cascade of snow shot up and you take off on a turn. Go over to the edges and feel some of that untraveled and still fresh snow. Traverse the middle and watch out for bumps. Catch a little air.
Stop. Breathe. Look around.
Think about technique. Think about other people's techniques. There used to be a guy who skied Mt. Abram fairly regularly who would put his poles up to his armpits and hold his arms out like a T. His turns weren't great but he'd try and touch the tip of his pole to the ground, dragging it for a few yards before turning the other way. He wasn't the most technically accomplished skier. But he was a Skier. He was there for himself, appreciating his sport in the way only he could.
Slide to a stop at the bottom.
Get ready to do it again. But beware, Gravity is a Harsh Mistress and you might well fall. It's all part of the experience, though. Laugh it off. Even if you've broken something, you broke it while skiing. It's a story. Something for the lounge after the day is out. They've got Ski Patrols for that sorta shit, anyway (Mt. Abram's Ski Patrol motto: You bag it, we drag it).
After a while, you need some hot chocolate. Your face is a bit chilled. You're invigorated by the cold but your legs need a minute. You just like hot chocolate. You'll need it at some point. Ski down to the lodge, pop out of your bindings. Clunk into the cafeteria area. Put one of the cups under the Hot Chocolate machine and press the button as in a nearly profane orgasm of hot water and chocolate mix your cup is filled. Wait! Release the button just a moment after the machine recommends. It's better this way.
Sip.
Enjoy.
Do it all again.
11.1.08
Mustache Feeling
So, this clip from The Tick pretty much sums up how I've been feeling for the past week and a half. And if you haven't seen my face, you might be able to guess why by the end.
9.1.08
GAH!
5 Scientific Reasons the Zombie Apocalypse Could Actually Happen
It's kinda terrifying. And kinda awesome.
Also, Cracked has a lot of cool articles. Go read them.
...shudder...
It's kinda terrifying. And kinda awesome.
Also, Cracked has a lot of cool articles. Go read them.
...shudder...
5.1.08
Feelin' Loop
My Grandmother gave me some cash for Christmas and with said Bucks I picked myself up a Boss RC-20XL Phrase Recorder. Plenty of people have reviewed it, so I'm not gonna do that here (though it is pretty awesome).
Why I really like it is that I'm finally teaching myself some friggin' scales and it's allowing me to tool around with those over my own self playing. I've got a couple of CDs and one tape that have tracks you can play over, but I've never been too interested in that. But the ability to riff over my own stuff has been really liberating. I'm having a lot of fun with this guy. I looped a simple song (Spoon's Infinite Pet - after an idea from Nick) and have spent at least thirty minutes playing over it.
What fun!
Also, I cleaned up my room and have finally utilized the shelving Mum got me for my birthday so the room looks less hovelesque and more like a respectable place. If only I could clean up the rest of this crap, I'd be golden.
So that's my Saturday so far. I got up late. I'm about to shower, then go cash in on Dad's gift of $40 to RSVP. Then I'll have some dinner and it sounds like we're going to a party in Bridgton.
A good day, all in all.
Why I really like it is that I'm finally teaching myself some friggin' scales and it's allowing me to tool around with those over my own self playing. I've got a couple of CDs and one tape that have tracks you can play over, but I've never been too interested in that. But the ability to riff over my own stuff has been really liberating. I'm having a lot of fun with this guy. I looped a simple song (Spoon's Infinite Pet - after an idea from Nick) and have spent at least thirty minutes playing over it.
What fun!
Also, I cleaned up my room and have finally utilized the shelving Mum got me for my birthday so the room looks less hovelesque and more like a respectable place. If only I could clean up the rest of this crap, I'd be golden.
So that's my Saturday so far. I got up late. I'm about to shower, then go cash in on Dad's gift of $40 to RSVP. Then I'll have some dinner and it sounds like we're going to a party in Bridgton.
A good day, all in all.
4.1.08
Contraception
I know you've all been waiting for a Holiday update. Here goes:
It was good. I ate a lot. I was really happy to see friends and family. Lovely time of year. And it was a White Christmas! I had a lot of fun making my christmas cards.
Now on to other stuff.
As you no doubt recall, King Middle School here in Portland approved a decision to provide birth control pills to sexually active middle school students. King Middle School happens to have students from as young as 11 all the way up to the ages 14 and 15.
People were pissed off when they found out. The most logical (in my mind) were the ones mad that the kids wouldn't even have to tell their parents. The least were assuming all the kids would start receiving it automatically. King already provided condoms, it's worth noting.
It seemed like a reasonable plan to me. They're not providing anything that's not already available to the kids. All it takes is a trip to the medic and any kid can have a completely confidential meeting with the doctor to talk about whatever. The parent has to leave. So the school confidentiality issue isn't an issue. Other people were concerned that 11 year olds taking the pill would suffer hormonal problems. Well, they probably would. But seeing as how you still have to get doctor approval and a doctor's prescription to get the pill, I doubt a lot of them will be getting it. And the five students (last I checked) who are receiving the pill are all 14 or 15.
There were, of course, knee jerk reactions. But as people started paying attention to the information that was already readily available they calmed down. For the most part. There was still a movement, however, to recall three of the school board members who voted for the pill.
It failed miserably.
And that makes me really happy. They needed 3,000 signatures for all three school board members and got under 300.
What makes me happiest about it is that I think it proves that most people are reasonable and in the face of all the good evidence that this program will do good things, they accept that. The petition has been available for signatures for quite a while, and it still got fewer people than a Shaker Meeting.
BAM!
EDIT: I corrected some figures at the end.
It was good. I ate a lot. I was really happy to see friends and family. Lovely time of year. And it was a White Christmas! I had a lot of fun making my christmas cards.
Now on to other stuff.
As you no doubt recall, King Middle School here in Portland approved a decision to provide birth control pills to sexually active middle school students. King Middle School happens to have students from as young as 11 all the way up to the ages 14 and 15.
People were pissed off when they found out. The most logical (in my mind) were the ones mad that the kids wouldn't even have to tell their parents. The least were assuming all the kids would start receiving it automatically. King already provided condoms, it's worth noting.
It seemed like a reasonable plan to me. They're not providing anything that's not already available to the kids. All it takes is a trip to the medic and any kid can have a completely confidential meeting with the doctor to talk about whatever. The parent has to leave. So the school confidentiality issue isn't an issue. Other people were concerned that 11 year olds taking the pill would suffer hormonal problems. Well, they probably would. But seeing as how you still have to get doctor approval and a doctor's prescription to get the pill, I doubt a lot of them will be getting it. And the five students (last I checked) who are receiving the pill are all 14 or 15.
There were, of course, knee jerk reactions. But as people started paying attention to the information that was already readily available they calmed down. For the most part. There was still a movement, however, to recall three of the school board members who voted for the pill.
It failed miserably.
And that makes me really happy. They needed 3,000 signatures for all three school board members and got under 300.
What makes me happiest about it is that I think it proves that most people are reasonable and in the face of all the good evidence that this program will do good things, they accept that. The petition has been available for signatures for quite a while, and it still got fewer people than a Shaker Meeting.
BAM!
EDIT: I corrected some figures at the end.
21.12.07
Thugs
- Krister
- Thugs
- Krister, are you awake?
- One.
- Krister, wake up.
- There are thugs in here.
This is an excerpt, I think, from a conversation Nick and I had. It was his duty to wake me up so I could drive us to work. It is, of course, important to note that this was after Jeremy's last night in town. And actually, I don't think I'd be hungover at all if it weren't for that fucking Scorpion Bowl.
God damn, that Scorpion Bowl was a lot of liquor in a short amount of time.
A good night, though. Jeremy and I went out and brought out his younger brother, Justin, who is recently 21. It was his first real bar experience. Accordingly, we brought him to Bull Feenys - where J. Biddy (of course) was playing. We then swung by Gritty's. I had the Christmas Ale. If any of y'all can tell me what that tastes like, I'll give you a high five. It was delicious. After we ordered our beers at the secondary bar and returned to the main floor, we discovered a horn band had moved in and was playing Christmas Jingles and everyone was drunkenly singing along, including the house band. After that "Fa la la la la, La la la la" song and Jingle Bells, they left and t'other band continued doing their blues/stoned rock thang.
Jess and Courtney met up with us there, accompanied us to Ri Ra's and then we went up to The Iguana Lounge where she bought us that dastardly Scorpion Bowl.
We made it home. I passed out. Nick woke me up and the conversation at the beginning of this post took place.
Then I came to work. Then I wrote this blog. After that, I don't know what happened.
- Thugs
- Krister, are you awake?
- One.
- Krister, wake up.
- There are thugs in here.
This is an excerpt, I think, from a conversation Nick and I had. It was his duty to wake me up so I could drive us to work. It is, of course, important to note that this was after Jeremy's last night in town. And actually, I don't think I'd be hungover at all if it weren't for that fucking Scorpion Bowl.
God damn, that Scorpion Bowl was a lot of liquor in a short amount of time.
A good night, though. Jeremy and I went out and brought out his younger brother, Justin, who is recently 21. It was his first real bar experience. Accordingly, we brought him to Bull Feenys - where J. Biddy (of course) was playing. We then swung by Gritty's. I had the Christmas Ale. If any of y'all can tell me what that tastes like, I'll give you a high five. It was delicious. After we ordered our beers at the secondary bar and returned to the main floor, we discovered a horn band had moved in and was playing Christmas Jingles and everyone was drunkenly singing along, including the house band. After that "Fa la la la la, La la la la" song and Jingle Bells, they left and t'other band continued doing their blues/stoned rock thang.
Jess and Courtney met up with us there, accompanied us to Ri Ra's and then we went up to The Iguana Lounge where she bought us that dastardly Scorpion Bowl.
We made it home. I passed out. Nick woke me up and the conversation at the beginning of this post took place.
Then I came to work. Then I wrote this blog. After that, I don't know what happened.
18.12.07
Sex Sells
I was watching the commercials during the show today and noticed one for Saddleback. When the Saddleback logo came up I thought, "Huh, that's an... interesting choice."
If you want to have a look, the website has a copy of it. It's up at the top. It mostly looks like a mountain. But it also would make Hokusai proud, I think.
If you want to have a look, the website has a copy of it. It's up at the top. It mostly looks like a mountain. But it also would make Hokusai proud, I think.
17.12.07
16.12.07
A Review
So, the parts of today that weren't at work were, in all actuality, pretty neat! And even work wasn't that bad.
So I got up at four and showered and changed and put on my new shirt(which actually doesn't look much like that comic), and Nick and I took separate vehicles to work for some reason. I guess he'd thought about it and figured we might need to. Turns out we didn't. Sorry, Mother Nature!
I wasn't needed at work. I made one cut and posted a couple of things to the web. Most monkeys are too smart to do that sorta bullshit. But it was OK. Sarah and I got in crazy snow fights. I don't wanna say "snowball" because the snow wouldn't clump, but she won once (sorta, she got lucky) and I won once. I think I won betterly. After all, when she "won" I didn't have to reapply my make-up AND I didn't ruin a starting advantage. She got Nick to trick me to come outside, smacked me with a snowball and tried to knock me over. I still beat her.
So. In the end, I'm better. That's what we all decided. Then we drank toasts to my awesomeness.
After work I walked down to L.L. Bean and bought me some new boots (which are INDEED made for walkin') and some gloves. It was a lot of fun walking around the city in the Nor'Easter. Portland sorta took on this desolate, post-apocalyptic feel. There was virtually no traffic and very few people were out on the streets. I discovered, however, there is one bad thing about beards.
Snotcicles. Yep. Gross.
And it was really only a problem on the walk to L.L. Bean as the wind was right in my face the whole time. But the boots were 70% off! They wound up costing me $18. If you can believe that. And they are a marked improvement over my last pair which was swiftly losing it's sole/soul.
And I ate and caught some of The Eiger Sanction. It wasn't as good as the book. And while I hate that comparison typically, I feel my reasons are sound. In the book, Hemlock is dry, witty and charmingly sociopathic. Clint Eastwood, as Hemlock in the movie, is dry, witless and charmlessly flat. Although, the movie was still somewhat compelling. Hemlock should read more like House. I think the problem is Clint Eastwood has a natural warmth which works against the character of Hemlock. Or maybe Hemlock just isn't supposed to be that likeable. Even as distant and dry and Eastwood is in The Man With No Name trilogy, for instance, there's still something about him that's compelling.
Anyway, I took a nap and went back in to work and proceeded to be primarily useless again. The notable exception being when there was no camera person at all for the first half hour of the show. Then I came in handy.
Then I came home and parked at King Middle School and marched home and ate some chinese food. Now it's 8:30ish and I think I'm gonna chill out for an hour or so and then go to sleep.
1. On my trip back from L. L. Bean I saw a chap walking around the city in snowshoes. Unnecessary? Yes, probably. Cool and fun just the same? Most definitely.
2. Not one, not two but THREE people cruisin' the streets of Portland on cross-country skis. And I think they were all the classical style. No herringbone for them!
A pretty decent day.
So I got up at four and showered and changed and put on my new shirt(which actually doesn't look much like that comic), and Nick and I took separate vehicles to work for some reason. I guess he'd thought about it and figured we might need to. Turns out we didn't. Sorry, Mother Nature!
I wasn't needed at work. I made one cut and posted a couple of things to the web. Most monkeys are too smart to do that sorta bullshit. But it was OK. Sarah and I got in crazy snow fights. I don't wanna say "snowball" because the snow wouldn't clump, but she won once (sorta, she got lucky) and I won once. I think I won betterly. After all, when she "won" I didn't have to reapply my make-up AND I didn't ruin a starting advantage. She got Nick to trick me to come outside, smacked me with a snowball and tried to knock me over. I still beat her.
So. In the end, I'm better. That's what we all decided. Then we drank toasts to my awesomeness.
After work I walked down to L.L. Bean and bought me some new boots (which are INDEED made for walkin') and some gloves. It was a lot of fun walking around the city in the Nor'Easter. Portland sorta took on this desolate, post-apocalyptic feel. There was virtually no traffic and very few people were out on the streets. I discovered, however, there is one bad thing about beards.
Snotcicles. Yep. Gross.
And it was really only a problem on the walk to L.L. Bean as the wind was right in my face the whole time. But the boots were 70% off! They wound up costing me $18. If you can believe that. And they are a marked improvement over my last pair which was swiftly losing it's sole/soul.
And I ate and caught some of The Eiger Sanction. It wasn't as good as the book. And while I hate that comparison typically, I feel my reasons are sound. In the book, Hemlock is dry, witty and charmingly sociopathic. Clint Eastwood, as Hemlock in the movie, is dry, witless and charmlessly flat. Although, the movie was still somewhat compelling. Hemlock should read more like House. I think the problem is Clint Eastwood has a natural warmth which works against the character of Hemlock. Or maybe Hemlock just isn't supposed to be that likeable. Even as distant and dry and Eastwood is in The Man With No Name trilogy, for instance, there's still something about him that's compelling.
Anyway, I took a nap and went back in to work and proceeded to be primarily useless again. The notable exception being when there was no camera person at all for the first half hour of the show. Then I came in handy.
Then I came home and parked at King Middle School and marched home and ate some chinese food. Now it's 8:30ish and I think I'm gonna chill out for an hour or so and then go to sleep.
IMPORTANT THINGS I SAW TOD
aY,
1. On my trip back from L. L. Bean I saw a chap walking around the city in snowshoes. Unnecessary? Yes, probably. Cool and fun just the same? Most definitely.
2. Not one, not two but THREE people cruisin' the streets of Portland on cross-country skis. And I think they were all the classical style. No herringbone for them!
A pretty decent day.
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