Playing Outdoors

So, being on a vintage book kick recently (see last post) got me to thinking about going to the library a lot as a youth. It's something I don't do so much anymore because when I do find the time to read, it happens to be magazines that I either buy or have delivered to my house. And, if I really want a book bad enough, I'll buy it or borrow it from a friend. That's just how it is these days. And well, I feel bad... but I've lived in Oregon now for 3.5 years and I have yet to even get a library card. I think that makes me a bad Oregonian. I mean, I have a bike, I snowboard, I try to surf , I have a dog, I recycle, I drink beer, I drink coffee, I go see live music, I even drive a SUBARU! but... I just don't have that library card yet. (Maybe that's what I'll do to celebrate my fourth year. 03.31.11, get ready for it Multnomah County Libraries - it's gonna be raging!)

Anyways, back when I was a youth in Hillsboro Ohio, there was one book that I think I checked out of our library at least 12 times. As some of you may know, as I kid I was obsessed with magazines, especially L.L.Bean. One day while pursuing the outdoors section of the library, I came across this book and fell in love. It was so chock full of information and tips, that it was my go-to source for the outdoors, and well... the fact that it was an L.L. Bean book just made it even more delicious. So.. I did some searching on the internet and found it. In less than two weeks a perfectly good used copy of the L.L. Bean Guide to the Outdoors, by Bill Riviere (published in 1981) showed up on my doorstep.

I eagerly ripped open the package and sat down in my favorite chair to thumb through the pages. Almost thirty years have passed since the book was published and at least fifteen years have gone past since I last read it. So many of the articles like weather forecasting, nutrition on the trail, and where to put your tent still ring true today, but some of their fashion tips I just chuckled at. I mean, in the 90's when I first found this book, fleece was all the rage. I couldn't believe that people actually used to wear wool baselayers and puffy down filled coats. And now well, fifteen years later look at the outdoors and fashion industry, that's exactly what people (ie the urban woodsman) are wearing again.

(the model for this illustration lives in Williamsburg.)

(Always handy for finding your way home from the bar.)

(Axe, bought unfinished from vendor for $30, painted pretty colors and resold for $150.)

(Classic L.L.Bean boots, made by L.L.Bean but now resold by J.Crew for an additional $200.)

Take for example the external frame backpack. Five years ago, people were probably finding them in the the back of their garage and giving them away for free. Now though, a vintage Kelty External Frame pack easily goes for $100 on ebay! And, I don't think those people who are actually buying them are planning on going on large expeditions of scaling Mt. Hood with them. No, they'll probably just throw it on their back, put an extra pair of skinny jeans, a vintage flannel, their iphones, some PBR and tofu in them and walk around Forest Park with their "Best Made" axe and "play" outdoors.

(Where do I put my fixed gear bike lock?)

Anyways, I'm glad I was able to find this book. More than anything else, it's connected me back with a little bit of my childhood and past. There are still plenty of helpful tips in it, but there is also humor seeing how modern-day trends has co-opted some of the icons and the "lifestyle".

Getting Away...

Getting away without really getting very far away at all....

Its amazing what a weekend in the woods can do to rejuvenate your soul and it was so nice to actually have a weekend in the summer where I didn't get on my bike, even once. By the time Sunday afternoon rolled around I actually started to feel a little guilty for being bikeless, but that feeling was quickly replaced by another IRA at my favorite Hood River brewery, Double Mountain.

This is a photo post... enjoy!

Sam and I found a great secret spot last weekend at Mt. Hood off the main roadway that was perfectly perched under some pine trees...

... and right next to a cold mountain fed creek.

I brought old paperwork with me to get the fire going...

in the morning there was coffee by the creek...

and then there was hiking! We went up the Cooper Spur Trail, which is on the "other side" of Mt. Hood, the one opposite of Timberline Lodge and Govy Camp.

The mountain was beautiful that day. It kept going in and out of clouds.

It even snowed for a few minutes.

The trail was a 2,800 climb that took you right up one of the ridges of Mt. Hood, overlooking the Elliot Glacier.

Sam and I brought my dog Anna, as well as an energetic "dog friend" of hers named Riley. Anna, despite not being the most athletic dog out there, was a trooper. She climbed like a rock star but sadly, her legs started bothering her before too terribly long. We made it up a pretty far distance before we realized we might have to carry Anna all the way back down the mountain, and so... puppy comfort in mind, we turned around before we reached the "tie in" apex of the trail.

There were all sorts of cool cairns marking the trail.

And tons of bright purple wildflowers once you got down below timber line.

There are a lot of cool older structures on this side of the mountain. Things like the Cloud Cap Inn, showed here. The Snowshoe Club Cabin and a skier's hut constructed by the CCC.

I love Mt. Hood.

Everyone, including the dogs, was pretty tuckered out at the end of the day. thankfully, nothing is more relaxing than a warm fire and a cold beer.

yum!!

we are sooo lucky to have been raised amongst catalogs.

So, back the the oh so awkward glorious days of Jr High and High School, Nirvana and Pearl Jam were lighting up the airwaves and every week I looked forward to watching Seinfeld and Northern Exposure. It was in this era too, long before the internet, that catalogs and magazines were my only outlet to a world and a place I wanted to live. Namely, anywhere where plaid and flannel were de riguer attire amongst with tall pine trees and mountains or, pretty much anywhere that wasn’t called Hillsboro Ohio. Much like a reference to Best in Show... I loved catalogs, I used to get all the best ones: J. Crew, Banana Republic, Pottery Barn, Lands End and my personal favorite, L.L.Bean. When these little gems arrived in the mail, I would spend hours flipping through the pages and reading all the descriptions. It wasn’t so much that I loved the clothes, but I loved the photos, I loved the made up life the people in the catalogs had. The Christmas catalogs always featured a big party where they all go out in the snow to pick the perfect Christmas tree. The summer ones always had a great little garden party with cold beverages swimming in a large bucket of ice or featured a couple out in the woods, camping by a lake. And without fail, the fall issues had folks in their favorite plaid flannel shirts raking leaves and gathering pumpkins. Naturally, it just seemed to me, this is the life one should have. Granted, the clothes won’t make it happen and it might be hard to find beautiful friends of almost every ethnicity ... but one could create situations in their life that mirrored or bettered, those idealistic lifestyle images found in catalogs.

Which means... at least for me...if you don’t like the scenery, flip the page first chance you get.

Long before I could get out of town, I my closet was full of my favorite LL Bean flannels. I had my khakis, I had my Timberland Boots and I had my beloved Jeep Cherokee. Eventually by the time I got to college, the Jeep was loaded up with a bright red sea kayak headed to Maine for the summer. In the later years I added my black lab mix to the picture and then afterwards, I moved to a place where pretty much, any time I wanted to go camping under the pine trees or forage through the snow to find the perfect Christmas tree, I could. My life in essence, has kinda become like those catalog pages. Granted, that may seem kind of shallow... but it’s only shallow if all I was ever worried about was how other people perceived me, like a voyeur in someone else’s life catalog. But you know, other peoples perceptions were never the goal... the goal was living the kind of lifestyle that I wanted. It’s just a funny circumstance that it resembles the pages of the catalogs that I obsessed over so much. These days I don’t really spend my time reading catalogs, instead I’ve made my life the catalog. Why spend my time pouring over someone else’s ideal of a perfect life when you can be out there living your own perfect life?

On that note, back in the glory days of my catalog reading, I often ripped out pages I liked and put them into a file folder that has traveled around with me over the years. When moving this past month, I went through some of those old images for the first time in years and it’s funny what I had saved. One of those saved pages was full of my favorite L.L.Bean plaid flannel shirts. Back in the day, L.L. Bean was the best. It was synonymous with the words "outdoors". In high school, when I had saved up enough money, I actually purchased a few of my favorites along with one of their classic "warm up jackets" and that became my “go-to” for cold weather clothing. But then, grunge fell by the wayside and clothing style and sizes changed and those shirts were given away to my parents or put in boxes which were stored and moved from location to location after high school. Always packed, kept for my never ending love for the Bean, but... never worn.

Oh, 1994...

Recently, I’ve feel like I’ve been on an Americana kick... no, that doesn’t mean buying all the American flags I see and covering my car with them, it means rediscovering classic American items. Handmade, hand tested, hand trued year after year classics. From classic American architecture like the Grand Lodges, to basic bluegrass and old country favorites, or little things like you grandfathers pocket knife, the flashlight your grandma always kept in her car, the zippo lighter always on the end table, your dad’s handkerchiefs, that flannel your mom has had forever, a pair of good leather shoes that won’t wear out after a season, simple things. Well made things. Things you may pay a bit more out of pocket now, but it’s well worth the value they give you year after year. This brought me back to thinking about those L.L.Bean flannel shirts I had.

Certain that I had one of those flannels stored away somewhere, I went digging through my boxes and sure enough... found one of them that had traveled with me all the way from Ohio. I hung it up in my closet and promised to wear it again someday soon. Then last week, when getting ready to depart for a late summer camping trip I reached in and grabbed it. Upon putting it on, I suddenly realized why it hadn’t been worn in such a long time. See back in 1996, the fit on clothes was much bigger than it is these days. In fact, this shirt is so big on me now, that I’m pretty sure I could fit two of me’s in it. Sadly, realizing it would be more of a fire hazard than a warm shirt to sit beside the fire, I put it back in the closet and made a mental note to visit L.L.Bean again soon and order another one, appropriately sized.

So, this week I did just that. I visited the modern catalog... the internet.. and typed in plaid flannel into the search browser. And, I was surprised by what came up. There was one women’s shirt available in two colors, one men’s shirt available in two colors and one kids shirt, also available in two colors. Initially, I loved the women’s shirt, it was an attractive plaid and the cut seemed to be pretty flattering (which isn’t normal for most L.L.Bean clothes. Sorry Bean... your selection of mom jeans scares the crap out of me!). I was ready to click “buy”; however, just before doing so I read through the customer comments and reviews and all the women seemed to say the same thing... they loved the pattern and the colors, but overall the fabric itself was lacking in quality. Everyone wanted flannel shirts as durable and as warm as the mens and boys, but were solely disappointed in the option that was given for women. Which really got me thinking, has L.L.Bean ventured so far away from their initial roots that they are cheapening their product for the sake of fashion? And if that’s the case... I imagine those unflattering mom jeans that they are also selling, will probably last a good 30 years.

Then I remembered seeing an article that was written regarding a new line of clothing for L.L.Bean under the tag line “Signature” . Apparently this off-shoot of L.L.Bean still stands behind the same principles as the regular L.L. Bean, but the clothes were designed by a more fashionable fella and come with an updated cut and styling as well as a slightly higher price-tag (think: L.L. Bean meets J. Crew). When going over this new site, I liked the clothes. No wait, I loved the clothes actually. No mom jeans anywhere in sight and full of L.L.Bean classics like their Maine Guide Shirts, Cotton Flannel shirts in attractive plaids as well as there ever favorite Chamois Cloth Shirt, available in even an classy women’s cut. Made to look like it would work in the professional office space as much as it would work out in the yard or out with friends. Now L.L.Bean - now we’re talking! But... still, there is hesitation. Why is one chamois shirt on the regular L.L.Bean site $35 while the signature one is $50? Why can’t L.L. Bean adapt and make a better, more fitting product, just as durable as the other.... without creating a separate “signature” line and raising the price under the guise of being a classic “historically american” product? If someone buys one... what is that saying about the person who buys the other? They are just cheaper? Do they not care about fit, form and function?

this

and this are much more appealing than....

this and...

this.

I love you L.L.Bean and I will always love your product and your catalogs and your store as they bring back nothing but warm, happy, fuzzy memories. But, right now you’ve got me a little... well, questioning. And, just so you know, on my nostalgia kick for a quality L.L.Bean flannel shirt that is a heavier flannel and fits well, I ended up ordering the boys buffalo plaid flannel shirt. Thankfully, I can still wear kids clothes till someone out there makes some durable and fashionable American classic women’s clothes.

the beautiful monster

So, as I'm sure many of you have heard already, recently three very experienced climbers went missing last Friday when they attempted to climb Oregon's infamous Mt. Hood. At 1am when they left their truck in the Timberline Parking lot and filled out their climb report, conditions were good. Conditions were to stay good for most of the day, but then turn nasty as the evening progressed. Ideally, they were not figuring on being out that long. For a 1am departure, you hope to reach summit by 7-8am, and then back down the mountain to their car by 3pm. They had gear they needed, harnesses, helmets, ice axes; though, no emergency beacons and no snow shovels. Their climbing report was sloppy though, they wrote down the wrong names for things and appeared to write info for routes that were on the other side of the Mountain.

The climbers were Luke Gullberg 26, Katie Nolan 29, and Anthony Vietti 24. All of them have climbed mountains together before, Adams, Rainier, Mt. Baker. In fact, Luke Gullberg had already summited Mt. Hood six times prior while Anthony was a member of Olympic Mountain Rescue. I'm sure, in the back of their head.... it was no big thing, easy up - easy down. Granted, they were taking one of the hardest routes up the Mountain... but, these were people who seemingly didn't take the easy route, while climbing or in life.

The other day, searchers found the body of Luke Gullberg near 9,000 ft. at the Reid Glacier. Gear, harness, helmet, etc was scattered all over the slope of the mountain near his body. Apparently included in this gear was a camera containing photos of everyone shortly before "something bad happened". One of the photos shows Gullberg anchored to the snow and the ice of the Reid Headwall, apparently with two snow screws. Seemingly, a rope led from the anchors to his secured harness. Autopsy reports determined that Luke had a long slow fall, but that's not what killed him. In fact, he had minimal cuts scrapes and bruises and it's very likely that he was able to walk and crawl for several hundred yards. Luke died from hypothermia, from exposure.

As I type, Katie and Anthony have not been found yet. In the three days of searching as weather has allowed, each hour that passes makes the chance that they hunkered down in a snow cave and are still alive grow fainter and fainter.

My mind is wrapped around the this story. I am confused and I try, much like everyone else... to figure out what might have happened. What was the "something bad?" Who was it who went first? How high were they? Were they roped together (some of the prior photos show they were)? Was there a fall, a crevasse? How long were they out there? Did they have sufficient gear with them to stay warm or eat in case of emergency? Were they trying to climb light and fast? Why wasn't Luke's backpack on him? Why did he have Katie's water bottle and glove? Did Luke go for help after the two of them ran into problems and built a snow cave? There are so many possibilities and so many scenarios that I gobble up all the latest news about the incident... hoping that there is a better idea of what happened, but alas.... no one knows.

Personally, like many others, I want to know. I want to understand. I want to be prepared. I want to know the details so that I don't make the same mistakes they did. I don't want to be a statistic. It's been a goal of mine since I moved out here to climb the 11,249 ft Mt. Hood - and only inclimate weather has turned me around thus far. Honestly, even considering all the tragedy that has happened on the mountain over the years... it hasn't scared me away..... it only makes me want to understand it more. The mountain is a beast of nature. It can provide for an afternoon of fun as quickly as it can provide for a lifetime of terror. It demands respect and understanding. You never really ever conquer the mountain and if given the opportunity, it can quickly conquer you. And, because it is there, because it is so close and accessible, because it is one of the most beautiful and dangerous things we have ever seen... we are drawn to it.

Another reason this story is so captivating, is that currently, we only know so much about the climbers involved. At first glance of a news story, you see their name, their age, and their home. I identify with one of them. Though our lives may be entirely different, the truth is on paper that Katie Nolan, 29 of Portland Oregon loved climbing mountains and challenging herself. I, Jenn Levo, 29 years old of Portland Oregon, love climbing mountains and challenging myself. I don't know Katie, but it's very possible that our lives crossed paths at some point... at the climbing gym, at an outdoors event. It's hard to say... but I identify with her. She got connected with the two men because she was often going out hiking and climbing and doing it alone. Someone introduced her to one of the other so she had "people" and then they became fast friends with a shared interest in the great outdoors. Most of my friends that I have here in Portland I've found through the same way. Katie could be me, she could also be one of my friends.

In the days since the incident... more news about the life of Katie Nolan has come to surface. She, as well as the two men, were deeply religious people (in fact, I don't know how you can spend time in the outdoors and not believe in God.) Katie apparently worked in Portland for an organization which helped get women off the streets and into jobs and homes. She even went to Africa once to help free women from the slave trade. It appears as if all of them were good people who essentially had their faith and believed in helping others as well as a love and appreciation for the outdoors. (That doesn't mean that good people don't die... good people die every day, but losses are just a little more heartbreaking when the people are young, decent folks with a zest for life rather than cracked out thieves and hoodlums, right?)

In light of everything and the time that has passed since they've gone missing, I don't think this can be considered a rescue mission anymore. Temperatures on the mountain have dipped into the teens with more snow on the way. Avalanche danger is high and the upcoming forecast is not promising. While I'd love to think that they used their ice picks to make a snow cave and the two of them have been huddled in there keeping warm, by day four, it's not likely that they'd still have food or fuel for water. I think it's safe to say any further work is a recovery mission. I can only hope that all of the climbers, in light of the "something bad that happened" were able to be at peace in their final moments. There were out there in the wilds, doing what they loved in a place that they loved and if you ask me, that's a pretty good way to go. I for one, have always longed to go out they way Jack London described death in his tale "To Build a Fire". In this story, the man... left out in harsh winter conditions finally lost to the bitter freezing cold. After painful bouts of shivering, with his limbs losing control and sensation, a feeling of calmness and drowsiness came over him. Much like taking an anesthetic, "the man drowsed off into what seemed to him the most the most comfortable and satisfying sleep he had ever known".

My prayers go out to the families and loved ones of the climbers from last week's incident. I also send out kind thoughts and regards for the others who have lost on the mountain. And, I pray for safe travels and returns to all those who venture forth. Remember, you never really conquer the mountain, you are just spared from it from time to time.

I will close with my personal prayer that I repeat in moments of weakness, danger and uncertainty. It is a variation of Habakkuk 3:17-19 found in the Old Testament, (granted... it's not the exact text, but the meaning is the same and it's just the way it comes out of my mouth): "The Lord, God is my saviour, may he give me the strength of a deer to make it safely over the mountains."

____________________________

For a look at the mountain and search and rescue efforts, check out this video shot by a local news station helicopter.

Also, this rages the debate if rescue beacons should be mandated for climbers. I've save my thoughts on that for a later post.

get lost

Just a little note to cyber land that is a reminder that this upcoming weekend (August 15 & 16th) is the last in the series of Fee-Free weekends that the US National Park Service has been providing all summer long for about 100 parks that normally charge entry fees. Check the list here and see if there is one near you that you can take advantage of. Personally, I'd love to hop my butt down to Crater Lake to see it in the summer, but the wild flowers are supposed to be prime this weekend up on Mt. Hood, so I think after participating in the OBRA State Championship Critiruim in Albany this Saturday, I'll stick a little closer to home.

Don't let summer pass you by - we've only got a little bit left.

that's what love does to you...

So, a little holiday recap is in order.

This time last week, I went into the woods, to the mountain, to the beach. Afterwards, I went back into the woods, to the mountain and then to the beach again. Then, I rode my bike all over Portland and when I was done doing that... I went back to the coast for Fourth of July fireworks and bonfires on the beach. The next day, I slept in, sipped bloody marys, ate burbon pancakes, went for a walk in the Rose Gardens, ate walla-walla onion rings, and picked fresh blueberries, raspberries and blackberries. Honestly, everyday was just about the best day ever. In fact, most days in Oregon seem like just about the best days ever. Yes, even in the winter. Yes, even when it rains.

Have I mentioned before that I love Oregon? Have I mentioned that I love having so many amazing places and things to do right at my finger tips. The coast, the woods, the mountains, the river, the art, the culture, the beer, the bikes, the coffee... I feel so gluttonous for being able have my cake and eat it too, all the time. I feel as if any moment all this amazingness could be snatched away from me and I could be sent back to live in Ohio... eh. So basically, that is why I try to pack as much in as I can into every day and every moment. My new found home never fails to amaze me. Oh, have I mentioned before that I love Oregon? Cause I do.

Honestly. Straight up. No lie.

In fact, I think I have a greater love in my heart for spots on a map than I do for actual people. And that's not to sound cold hearted or anything... as I am uber-capable of loving people, but certain geographic places have more of a pull on me than any one person could. Since I was younger, I have always believed that as long as I am living in a place that I like, then I can be happy no matter what my situation in life is. Maine, which I've previously written about, is one of these places and the more I live here, the more I do, the more I find that Oregon and the Pacific Northwest also has the same deep pull on me.

A few years ago I was choosing a book to read for a trip to Europe and I randomly selected "Out of Africa" off the shelf. Having seen and loved the movie, I thought I would equally enjoy the book... and I did. But what really drew me into the story wasn't so much the romance between the dreamy roguish Denys Finch Hatton as the writing in general. Viewed by "some as not that exciting of a story", I loved reading for the way that Isak Dineson (pen name for the Danish Baroness Karen Blixen) swept you up the words and imagery. Blixen so loved Africa, the people, the culture, the feel of everything - that it's apparent in the way she writes. In one of her texts, Blixen shared a thought about non-tangible love that instantaneously hit me. She wrote "A great passion, such as one that truly devours your heart and soul, you cannot feel for individual beings. Perhaps, you cannot feel it for anything which is capable of loving you in return. Those officers who have loved their armies, those lords who have loved their soil... they can talk about passion."

So true, so true.

For me, this is the love I feel in my current surroundings. It is not a love of any ownership or any promises, but it is a love and a passion that transcends and goes deeper than candlelight dinners and warm embraces. Like Blixen said, the land cannot love me back. In fact, land acts much like a river; one day it provides you with fish and the next day it destroys your house with floods. This love is an appreciation, a respect. In sickness and in health, in sun and in rain. I've come to accept that the land will never buy me flowers or take me to the movies, but with the land... I have unlimited days of free and unencumbered pleasure, I have dreams of my future and stories of my past. And so I say thank you. Thank you Oregon.

Anyways, I digress... here are some photos from the weekend:

surfing the 45 degree waters in Pacific City

cliffs on the coast

the view from Hebo Mountain, the tallest peak around

4th of July fireworks and bonfires at Seaside

Anna*

*Funny note about this photo of my dog Anna:

She looks cute and completely adorable here right?

Well, this was taken about an hour after she rubbed herself in poo - fresh human stinky poo (I shit you not). She wasn't so cute and adorable then. We were walking the cliffs in Pacific City and she was on leash when she decided to go explore some nearby bushes. Sam* saw this and exclaimed "jenn, your dog is rubbing herself in something!" So Sam tugged on the retractable leash and exclaimed "Oh my god!... Anna just rubbed herself in s**t!" It was then that Anna came running up to me as proud as could be in a "look at me mom!" kinda way.

Oh boy did I look at her. I looked at her and saw the light brown smearing of poo all over the side of her face, neck and pretty green collar. And the worst thing was... the poo smelled. It smelled so bad! In fact it was one of those "I need to cover my nose or else I'm gonna throw up" kinda smells. To make things more disgusting, we figured that due to the roll of toilet paper and the bottle of cold unopened water laying right near the poo in the bushes, that some one must had diarrhea while hiking and came prepared. So, I grabbed the bottle of water, opened it, poured it on my dog... but no luck with getting the poo off. So then we proceeded to walk back down the massive sand dunes where I kicked sand in my dog's face (to solidify the runny smelly s**t, ya know), and then doused her in the icy cold waters of the Pacific Ocean. Luckily at the nearby surf spot there were hot showers where I further cleaned her and her nice green collar, but let me just say - that s**t was nasty.

Regardless though, I'm probably wrong, but I'm under the impression that s**t in Oregon probably smells better than it does anywhere else, but that's what love does to you.