Where am I now, you say?

Well, as was the inspiration to start this blog back in 2007 to begin with, I've started a new chapter in life. Prematurely at that. When I left Utah in August of 2009, it felt like a part of me died. My life was steeped with adventure between my work with Raytheon Polar Services Company and Colour Country Bureau of Land Management while working with Zion Helitack. Whether for work or play, I was constantly on the move and it satisfied my taste for adventure in the interim. However, throughout the 2008-2009 austral summer, the desire to want more out of my career slowly crept its way to the forefront of my mind. So I chose not to renew my contract for the following austral summer with Raytheon, chose to inform the BLM that I would not be returning for a GS-04 Range Technician position again, and decided to lay temporary roots back in Northern VA while I pursued becoming a Paramedic.

My last fire of the 2009 fire season on the UT/NV border.

I applied to work for the Metropolitan Washington Airports Authority in July of 2009 while I was still in Utah. When I moved back to VA, I started working for Physicians Transport Services as an EMT-Basic.....a job that I both loved and hated for the 6 1/2 years that I worked there. My interview, written exam, and physical agility test for MWAA were conducted in October and on Christmas Eve I was given a job offer. I slowly started working my way to becoming a Paramedic while working with MWAA. At some point early in my time with MWAA, I vowed to work at minimum 5 years for MWAA before I even thought about leaving Northern VA. I became an EMT-Intermediate (in Virginia at the time, the scope of practice between EMT-Intermediates and Paramedics weren't really that different. Most of the DC metro area was using Intermediates and Paramedics interchangeably to staff "medic units") in 2012 and continued working towards becoming a Paramedic while gaining more experience on MWAA, Loudoun County, and PTS ambulances. 

My office for the first half of this decade.

So I became a Paramedic in 2013 and started thinking towards the future. I applied to work for a middle-east sub contractor (who will remain nameless until I'm done with this contract in order to avoid the OPSEC mafia) in spring of 2015 with the hopes of quickly saving up some cash to buy a house in Boise. I made a personal promise earlier in the year to be living in Boise before Maleigha turned 10 which gave me 5 years to make it happen. . Thanks to a group of unscrupulous assholes, a hack into the OPM significantly delayed my security clearance being granted. I finally got the ball rolling in October of 2016, finished my hiring process, and was giving a start date of late December. A lot of my friends and family knew this was coming but I waited until I had an actual departure date and travel itinerary before I gave my notice of resignation to MWAA.

Last shift at MWAA with C-Shift at Dulles/IAD

So a week after my resignation, I was driving to Boise and was somewhere in Kansas on I-70 when I decided, fuck it, I'll move to Boise right then and there and rent a place versus put stuff in storage. So I found a pretty cool rental in the North End of the city not too far from down town, and began the process of changing my home base [hopefully] for the next 10 years. I drove back to VA and was on a plane to Kabul, Afghanistan a couple days later. 

Flying over a rugged corner of Iran

So here I sit in a dusty corner of Kabul dodging stray cats while living the expat life with a vacation back to the states every couple of months. The job is utterly mundane and repetitive but the money is good and we're reasonably spoiled. My contract is up at the end of the year at which point I'll be looking for work in Boise while starting part 2 of this chapter in my life. I applied to work for National Outdoor Leadership School's (NOLS) Wilderness Medicine Institute as an instructor...a dream of mine since I took the EMT program in Midpines, CA back in 2008. Other than that, the immediate future involving 2017 is a mystery...

"What are you doing out of the city?"

I often attempt to find the verbiage to describe the inevitable union of racial ambiguity and my hobbies. I find myself facing the same comments and questions in regards to black participation in outdoor recreation: "Isn't [random outdoor sport] a white sport?" "I though brothas didn't like [camping/cold/water/anything not involving a ball]". My standard chuckle/witty retort usually staves off an awkward lecture that I usually do not have the emotional energy to deliver. The repeated barrage of ignorant questions, however, collectively take their toll. As if by guilt of participation, I'm loosing the privilege and membership to the exclusive club that is being black. Whenever someone feels the need to validate my blackness (or lack thereof) by comparing my lifestyle to that of the stereotypical blacks they're exposed to in pop culture and mainstream media, I quietly remind them (read: myself) that my skin color alone subjects me to racism by those that aren't familiar with my lifestyle. This is a concept that actually should unite a lot of black outdoor athletes. That and the fact that a common prejudice still alive in the minds of of many Americans exists where it is asserted that I can't be black because of how I do or do not talk, what music I listen to, or what I choose to do with my free time. I wish we all stood up and challenged others to realize that by lambasting me or other blacks by going against some unwritten definition of what it is to be black, you are discrediting the hatred I/we face on occasion because of the color of our skin (and believe me, at least for me it happens more than you think); you are denying such racism exists, further increasing the punch it packs when it's unleashed on us. I've always been proud of who I am. I will never say I cannot nor will not do something based on the color of my skin. That doesn't stop others from believing that such a racial or cultural barrier exists nor needs to be adhered to, however. 

     For the most part, the people I find myself exploring the back country with or the people I meet along the way are genuinely good people....especially climbers and skiers. Rarely do I meet an unfriendly climber or skier who's wondering what a black person is doing out of the city.....

     

Fall Musings

This is my favorite time of year. The days are chilly and the nights are near freezing leaving only the heartiest of souls to brace them. In have always believed that the best way to bond with friends is by fire light under the winter sky. Days are gray and dreary. For late Appalachian falls, the temps during the day lazily rise into the thirties but rarely any higher. Eventually that subtle crisp in the air that lingers in your nose, that faint nip of the cold to come, continually reminds you that winter is around the corner. This is the best time to view mountain wildlife. Animals of all shapes, sizes, and order hurry to and fro preparing for their winter routine....guided by a subconscious owner's manual, a primal Winter for Dummies, as if synchronized by an evolutionary choreographer. The once inconspicuous are now outed by the fallen leaves they trod. This is the time to slow down, to observe Mother Nature, to listen to her. The days are progressively becoming shorter as the year moves closer to winter solstice. In the fleeting moments of the fall season, the local flavor of outdoor sports begin to drift toward snow sports. Those labeled sadistic by the meek will continue to hike, climb, and fish against the white backdrop that is the winter landscape. To these winter wayfarers, the anticipation of the snowy transformation grows with every shortening, bustling, leafy fall day.

Who Needs Passengers? Another Life Epiphany

I've come to learn throughout my travels that the open road posses healing powers one isn't aware of until you find yourself putting rubber to pavement on your way to your next chapter in life or next adventure. Despite how physically draining they were, I look back on my 6 cross-country drives with nostalgia and appreciation. My drive's allowed for contemplation on questions that had plagued my life with uncertainty and anxiety. The most important similarity of all of my drives was the fact that they were all done by myself. I was free from the obligation to talk to another human being when I was behind the wheel which allowed me to spend as much time as I wanted thinking to myself. I started off dreading my 30-36 hour drives that lay before me but eventually came to not only enjoying them but needing them in my life. My stationary life over the past 4 years has kept me from changing multiple time zones in one trip but I do manage to pick up and roll out across the Appalachia for a few hours with no other intent but to wonder. Immortalized in the words of Tolkien, "not all who wonder are lost..."

With that rambling aside, my recent trip to Tremblant, Quebec opened my eyes to another truth that wasn't immediately self-evident to me: my road trips have to be alone. For the first time in a long time, I embarked on a long road trip with 3 other people in tow. What was even more spectacular for me in regards to the trip was the fact that I wasn't the one driving nor was I in my own car. I attempted to give the reigns to someone else for once and instill trust into not only the driver delivering me to Tremblant but into the other 2 in the car that they would respect my need for quiet and introversion on an 11 hour drive. After all, these times on the road have proved sacred to me...surely my friends can respect that. By hitting the road at 0200 I was destined to some quiet time to myself. The trip itself, at Mont Tremblant Ski Resort, was spectacular. One thing I found interesting as far as how my mind and personality works was the fact that I continually returned to the hot tub. I found that despite being surrounded by good friends, my being in a foreign country (despite the fact that it borders America, Quebec definitely is a foreign country to some), I was still drawn to meet new people and socialize. The resort hot tub proved over and over again to be the meeting place for those not acquainted with one another.

The drive back was a different story. After spending 7 days of being over whelmed with the close proximity of others, I was ready for a little introversion. I defintiely did not find it on the drive back. I do not blame my friends and I would never take someone talking to me for granted, but if I were driving by myself I would have most likely been silent the 11 hours on the way home. All the while during the trip, I had moments of anxiety over the fact that I had zero control over a means of transportation while I was there. If I was having an urge to get away from people for a bit, I wouldn't have been able to disappear into Parc National Tremblant as easily as I could have. I wouldn't be able to make detours as often as needed to satisfy my curiosity. I was subject to the driver's speed, the driver's demeanor, the driver's music. I was truly a passenger. And I did not like it one bit.

I have a 10 hour drive into the Adirondacks coming up. For the trip, an organized one, I had listed that I had room for one more person. I'm now having major second thoughts with that decision. Regardless, I know I am not going anywhere without driving myself and definitely without the stipulation that I be allowed at least half the trip without talking. Guess I'll be driving alone anyways.

GoPro Camera

My adventures out west were mired with camera follies. From losing them while backcountry skiing, to ruining them by dropping them into sand, to them getting stolen. Some of my best memories are from my time spent in the American west so naturally it kills me that I don't have photographs of memories I want to share and relive. Anyways my lack of photographs from my recreating and exploring the west is what spawned my interest in adventure photography that's alive today.

Today I made an impulse buy and purchased a GoPro camera. It wasn't cheap at all but I have grandiose plans for it. Climbing, skiing, road tripping, doing stupid things, the list goes on. What I'm really excited about more than anything is creating memories with Maleigha. I'm looking forward to what Parenting+creativity+fun+Gopro will equal. Im flying to see her for a couple days in Sept. With her being in Kindergarten our time is limited and very precious. I'll be sure not to miss (nor will my Gopro) a single second of it.

Yeah yeah, it's been a while. Here's a recap on the past couple of years.

First and foremost, Maleigha is big! My little girl is 5 year old now and in Kindergarten. I last saw her in June and plan on seeing her again in September (which reminds me I missed a Skype date with her due to a busy night at the fire station last night). It has become harder and harder being this far away from her as the years go on. Not only have I fallen in love with her all over again, I've fallen in love with Boise, the city that took me in when I was in my own personal dark place after my father died. For now, I'll have to bide my time and make the most of my trips out west. I am incredibly greatful for how technology has kept us together and how it has allowed her mother and I to stay more easily in touch. Email, Skype, Facebook, Paypal, even facetime through our iphones and ipads have all been put to great use ensuring that we make the best of my distance between my daughter and I. It's been a wonderful experience but I'm constantly thinking of a future where M is only a 15 minute drive away.

I have reached an incredible milestone that has been a dream of mine for 8 years. I finally finished Paramedic school and became a Nationally Registered Paramedic. Even though a lot of people thought I was crazy for doing it, I decided to bight the bullet and complete a fast-paced, semester-long Intermediate to Paramedic bridge program hosted by Prince George's Community College in Largo, MD about an hour away from where I live and work.  Between classes and clinicals, I was averaging 350 miles a week in my car just for the sake of class. In the end I was plenty burned out. Walking away from the National Registry test site, however, was a relief. It never sunk in right away, though, which I always thought was strange considering how big of a deal it was too me. I was finally able to call myself a Paramedic. I no longer had to explain to people what an EMT-Intermediate was or the difference between and EMT-Intermediate and a Paramedic. A dream had come true for me but I still found myself (still do to this day every once in a while) pinching myself to see if it's real.

I'm enjoying a fun and comfortable career with the Metropolitan Washington Airports Authority Fire & Rescue Department. While attendign Paramedic school, I precepted as a medic which was a pretty fun experience. It was a great feeling that have the back of your crew/shift while undertaking such an endeavour. It went by pretty quickly too (3 months). Shortly after getting released as a medic, I completed the Paramedic bridge program I was taking, completed the National Registry exam, and submitted for and received my Virginia Paramedic certification which allowed me to promote up to the rank of Fire Medic. Working for an employer that provided me so much support towards achieving these goals has really made a huge difference in my life. Not a shift goes by where I don't wake up in the morning happy to go to work. For the most part, I forget that I'm even at work while I'm on duty. I couldn't be any luckier to be able to have such an outlook on life and my job.

Return from a hiatus?

I'll start this blog entry with the same disclaimer as the last few entries and say that I've been severely neglecting this journal. My life has changed a decent bit. I'm starting to feel older which I have noticed has changed the way I think, treat people, and look at the world. Now, before you lambast me for my choice of words I will first admit happily that I'm 27. However I do see a huge difference in Todd Bevans now and Todd Bevans at 22 when I first embarked for Idaho and Antarctica. For one, I long for my estranged daughter. I long to move away from DC. I've noticed my personality and attitude have changed for the worse (I've become more moody and angry). I want to live somewhere that has a lifetime supply of mountains to explore. I've also been romanticizing the idea of settling down with someone.

I've had a preoccupation with death for quite sometime now. No, I'm not suicidal. However, I've spent a lot of time contemplating what it meant to me and how it has changed me via several deaths I'll never forget: my father's mother, my first dog, my father himself, my uncle, Andrew Palmer from the Dutch Creek Incident, various other deaths that hit very close to home in the wildland community, and a few others. When I first started this blog I hoped to take it down a path much like other climbers and adventurers. For now this blog will remain a target for my venting and frustrations. I welcome whomever has the audacity to admit that they actually following my writings and provide me with a (constructive) counter-argument or agreement. Of course I'll document my trips, random musings, and events. After all this is where I do most f my learning anyways...

Vacation - Morocco Finally

The waning days of summer are here. Soon it will be September which brings the start of fall, one of my favorite seasons. The summer has been very non-exciting for me. I spent most of it slaving over school work and an absurd amount of overtime (voluntary albeit) at work. The overtime has paid off, however, because I'm departing on a two week trip to The Netherlands and Morocco on 25 Aug.

A friend of mine I met in the Cook Islands back in 2009 on my way back from McMurdo/NZ invited me to his birthday part where he lives in Rossum, NL. I didn't really think about it and just nonchalantly agreed to come. It just so happened that the day of his party fell within my vacation block I had set aside to attend Burning Man for this year. Back in July when I decided to do this trip I thought hard as to what I should do with the remainder of the time I had and could allot. I decided to try to resurrect a trip I had originally planned back in 2008 post-Antarctica to Morocco for the sake of climbing. So I figure from the 31st or the 1st to 7 Sep I'll spend tooling around Morocco with the hopes of finding vagabond climbers to hook up with which will give me plenty of time to make it back to Madrid by 9 Sep to fly back to Dulles. Anyways, 4 days and counting till I leave for a much needed vacation.

A Saturday Ruined By Rain

I have a horrible habit of not checking the weather on a regular basis...especially considering my hobbies and line of work. Today I was planning on heading to Maryland Heights to climb throughout the afternoon. I woke up at about 1100 this morning to a shit load of rain and a lot of howling wind. So much for climbing. Instead I'm taking the time to facebook stalk some friends and organize the heap(s) of shit I've yet to sort out since I moved back home from Ashburn in February. My climbing equipment, camping equipment, cold weather outerwear, books, papers, etc are all mixed together in various storage bins which I have to make a rhyme or reason out of.

From Blogger Pictures

From Blogger Pictures

I have a lot of work to do as you can see. I probably should get off blogger and get started...

Forced Hiatus from Blogger

Note: for some reason my computer would not log onto blogger. I'm going to try to post post-dated entries on here over the next week or so.

Ice Climbing Road Trip - Day 2

Bob and I had discussed an early wake up the night before about an hour or more before the showdown in our hostel room. He had wanted to wake up at 0600. I was hoping for a little bit later wake up call. Despite my subtle protests we decided on a 0600 wake up. To my surprise I awoke around 0700 still plenty tired and sore from the day before. We quickly packed and headed to a local diner in New Paltz for breakfast. With New Paltz being a quick jaunt off of I-87, we were quickly on the road heading for the Catskills Mountains. Our destination which we had discussed over breakfast was to be Stoney Clove located near Phoenicia, NY off of NY 214. Although a very quick drive, once we got off of the interstate, the drive up 28 and onto 214 became quite scenic. NY Rt 28 skirts the western border of Catskills Park which, much like the rest of the area at this time of year, was speckled yet covered in some spots with snow. Ice flows of all shapes and sizes lined several parts of the road:

From Miscellaneous Climbing and Hiking

When we drove through Phoenicia and turned on to Rt 214 we could notice a large cloud dumping snow on the exact area on which we were to be climbing. I'm not sure how Bob was feeling but I was ecstatic about the enjoyable misery of postholing through powder on the side of a mountain to climb some ice.

From Miscellaneous Climbing and Hiking

The drive from New Paltz to Notch Lake where we were to park took about an hour. We were hiking well before 0900. Despite it snowing and howling, once in the tree line it wasn't bad at all. Albeit steep, the hike was relatively easy. There wasn't as much snow as we had though on the hill side and there was already a trail blazed by various other parties that had visited the ice over the course of the winter.

From Miscellaneous Climbing and Hiking

From Miscellaneous Climbing and Hiking

From Miscellaneous Climbing and Hiking

Still hurting from the day before I passed the reins to Bob who led the first climbs of the day. The ice was rock solid and full of pockets thanks to a solid season of climbing. The sound of Bob's and my tools sinking in the ice was quickly absorbed by the falling snow. What most people don't know about snow is that the normally hollow structure of snow flakes is what makes snow falling so peaceful to us. Each individual flake does its part to absorb all the white noise we don't usually notice and take for granted. When said noise is not there, we're left with the peace and tranquility that snowfall and snowy landscapes usually bring with them. After a few hours of climbing, the skies attempted to clear and did so succesfully a few times.

From Miscellaneous Climbing and Hiking

From Miscellaneous Climbing and Hiking

I followed Bob for most of the day. My arm was screaming but I didn't let it stop me from climbing. The ice had been used so much over the winter that I spent most of my time hooking versus actually swinging my tools. There were several climbing areas at the top of the particular mountain we had hiked. We started off at an area called Sun Wall which proved to be a very easy WI2/3 in rating. We moved up the valley to an area called The Playground which ended up being a little bit more difficult than Sun Wall. We kept moving our way across the slope and up the valley until we started to get tired and the skies darkened again. The climbs had two things in common that worked against us the entire day: 1) topping out of the climbs required negotiating almost 5 feet of muddy grass and tree roots. Every climb, which we later found out this to be notorious of Catskills ice climbs, the ice ended just short of the top which led to very interesting finishes of the climbs. 2) Each sections of ice were separated by a deceivingly long and almost alpine traverse through thigh-deep snow. Enter the postholing. A couple times we thought about belaying each other in between the climbs only to sack up and pray we didn't fall in the end. The mountain side was even steeper in between the climbs and being 800 feet above the base made for a long glissade (slide) through a bunch of trees that didn't look at all fun to hit.

The last climb of the day ended up being a two pitch climb due to an incredibly steep hike (70 degrees!) up a snowy/ice slope to another mini-ampitheatre of ice Bob and I decided to forgo climbing. It was nearly 4 PM, it was getting late, and Bob had a Jets game to watch shortly. We decided to rap off a tree back to the base of the climb in order to start down climbing back to 214.

From Miscellaneous Climbing and Hiking

After an hour and a half of scraping my crampons on shitty ice and rock or down climbing small sections of vertical ice, we finally made it down to 214 about 3/4 of a mile up the valley from Bob's car. Tired and sore, we packed up and headed back to Phoenicia to get dinner and watch the game. We left by 2000 and drove back to New Paltz where we spent the rest of the evening hanging our rope, outerwear, and climbing gear in order to let it dry only to pass out by 2200.

Ice Climbing Road Trip - Day 1

Shortly before New Years, I had been climbing ice with a friend of a friend at Overland Falls in Shenandoah National Park when on our way out I ran into a friend of mine Bob Graver, coming up to the falls to climb. Somewhere during our conversation I lost focus on packing up to head out and had left my shell gloves there at the water fall. Luckily, Bob picked them up for me. Since Bob and I live some distance apart (about an hour to be exact) we figured the best and most efficient means of me picking my gloves up from him would be to go climbing together and get them then. About a week ago, I had remembered this and shot Bob and email to see if he wanted to go climbing this weekend (MLK Day weekend). Happily Bob said yes and we decided to head up to the Catskill Mountains for our trip. Last night we finally hashed out a few of the details and figured since it's [sorta] on the way, we'd stop at the Narrows, a group of waterfalls on the side of PA Route 32 outside of Kintnersville.

Today, we met up in Vienna, VA where I left my jeep in a parking garage in favor of Bob's much more fuel efficient Subaru Outback. We left Vienna around 1100 and headed for Fredrick, MD to pick up US 15 toward Harrisburg, PA. From there we picked up Interstate 78 and headed east for Hellertown near Allentown where we picked up the back roads towards Kintnersville. The waterfalls at the Narrows begin just off of the shoulder of PA 32 overlooking the Delaware River.

From Miscellaneous Climbing and Hiking

We pulled into the roadside parking lot, geared up, and started the two minute walk to the main falls which we found we had all to ourselves. Not bad for 14:00 on a Saturday of a holiday weekend! The ice looked solid and well developed. We strapped our crampons on and started walking towards the first set of falls. The ice felt pretty good beneath us and we couldn't here any flowing water (which is a good thing mind you).

From Miscellaneous Climbing and Hiking

The first couple sets of falls weren't that big: maybe 6 or 7 feet tall rated at WI4. Quick scrambling over these made for fast moving and an almost careless attitude for the climb. The next couple sets of falls, however, were starting to get a little taller. The first set over 10 feet I placed a screw not for fear of falling and hitting the ground (I knew I was hitting the ground if I fell regardless of me placing a screw or not) but for fear of hitting the ground, sliding off one set of falls, hitting the ground, sliding off the second set, and, well you get the picture. That is exactly what happened after placing the second screw of the pitch on the second set of falls that was way taller than the ones I first encountered. At this point was at the 4th or 5th set of falls from the bottom of the waterfall all together. I placed a screw while standing at the base and started climbing. I had started to reach over the lip of the falls when my ice tools hit a patch of rotten ice, peeled off, and sent me flying backwards. I fell about 10 feet, hit the ground, slid about 6 feet, fell off the set of falls below where I slid, fell another 5 feet, and slid about 5 more feet before the screw caught me. At one point throughout the sliding I was wondering when I was going to stop sliding and/or falling and what part of my body was going to stop me? At the time I was sliding on my back head first unable to see where I was heading. When I came to a stop I laid on the ground for a minute waiting for the adrenaline to wear off to see what hurt. My legs could move: great. My head and neck didn't hurt: superb. My left arm, however, was howling. I stood up with my legs shaking like shit and waved to Bob. The wind had been knocked out of me so I didn't say anything to him just yet. My arm was shaking pretty good as well. Bob screamed to me, "All you alright?!" which I simply just acknowledge and started to expose my arm. I knew I had hit my arm pretty hard when I saw a bruise the size of my wallet on the backside of my forearm; a feat for someone with complexion as dark as mine is hard to accomplish. I figured it wasn't broken considering the pain wasn't excruciating nor was I screaming. I stood there for a few more minutes shaking out my arm and hand (that all of a sudden started hurting just as badly while Bob was talking to me from the bottom. Apparently when I went out of sight, slack ended up in the rope which allowed my fall/skid/fall. Thankfully, I didn't break my neck or back, nor got impaled by my tools. I picked up my tools and tried out my arm which let me know right away it was not happy by shooting pain up to my elbow from my hand after smacking it against the ice while swinging. Without hesitation I said fuck it and kept going refusing to get injured on the first pitch of the first climb of a 3-day climbing trip. I got to the top of the first pitch, set up an anchor, and belayed Bob as he cleaned the screws I had placed. Bob apologized for the slack which I wasn't really worried about. I was ok and it was a simple mistake that I make all the time. I gave Bob some screamers and a couple more quickdraws and he took off to lead the 2nd pitch. The 2nd pitch started off like the end of the first pitch: a few short leads on WI4 ice that brought you to an amphitheater of WI3-4 ice upwards of 50-60+ feet. By the time Bob cleared the smaller falls and made it to the base of the larger ice, we had run our rope out. Shocked, Bob set up an anchor on a tree of to the side and belayed me up while I cleaned for him. I was moving slow. My hand and arm hurt like hell and I was having a hard time gripping my tool. I had to choke up on my left tool so I wouldn't bang my hand into the ice as I swung which through me off balance as I pulled up to reach for the next move(s). Luckily I made to the top of the 2nd pitch without falling. The main part of the falls themselves were huge offering several different ways to top them out. I decided to rest for a bit a belay Bob while he climbed a couple of them.

From Miscellaneous Climbing and Hiking

From Miscellaneous Climbing and Hiking

From Miscellaneous Climbing and Hiking

After spending about 30-45 minutes climbing the falls to ourselves another party worked their way up to where we were to share into the fun. Bob climbed one more line and then we decided to start rapping back down since it was getting dark and we still had a couple more hours of driving ahead of us to make it to New Paltz, NY. We rappelled off the tree we had been using as a belay and made it to where I had belayed Bob from the bottom of the 2nd pitch when we realized that Bob had left his backpack (and his car keys) up from where we rappelled. We yelled up to the party above us who offered a trade of them bringing the backpack down if they could rap down on our rope still anchored to the tree above. Done deal! When they made it down we decided to join forces (and ropes) in order to rappel all the way down versus rappelling two separate pitches. At this point is was dark and headlamps were in order.

From Miscellaneous Climbing and Hiking

We made it back down to the road, removed our crampons, and hiked back to the car all by 18:00. We got out of our boots and hit the road for New Paltz. I passed out for most of the drive and woke up as we were getting off of Interstate 87 onto NY 299 heading into New Paltz.

We pulled into the New Paltz Hostel, secured our bunks, took showers, and relaxed a little bit. Our bunk mates seemed to be from all walks of life. The guy in the bunk below me, a genuinely friendly and nice dude, seemed to be a rambler in the true sense of the word: from his tattered jacket, dark-green probably-at-one-time blue Dickies barely hanging onto his frame, speckled glasses, and weathered face, he seemed to live out of a bunch of plastic grocery bags he carried around in a small duffel bag. Let's call him John. John, although friendly and very happy-go-lucky, could not grasp the concept of the whisper...which is very important in a hostel bunk-room after 23:00. This characteristic will come back into play shortly. Our next bunk mate whom we will refer to as Jeff was a very happy, heavyset Hispanic dude in his mid-30s who also was incredibly polite and very passive. If he felt he troubled you in any way which included walking in front of your view of a TV with nothing but static on it, he would apologize profusely even after you told him several times it was ok. Jeff also had an issue with either heights or ladders because he waffled back and forth staring at his top bunk before going to the head guy of the hostel to address his issue. Since there were no other bottom bunks available Jeff went back to the bunk-room to conquer his issue with the bed. Upon attempted to scale his bunk Jeff slipped and planted his foot rather hard into the bunk of our third bunk mate whom we will refer to as Jack. Jack, like the other two was a friendly guy with a little bit rougher personality. Now I swore like a sailor and Bob would let out an epithet here and there but as far as anyone else in the building Jack was the only other person who spoke with a coarse vocabulary like I did. Jack was sound asleep when Jeff accidentally stumbled into his bed. Jack sprung up and reacted quickly: "What the fuck is going on!?" Jeff almost had a heart attack and stumbled over the several ways he knew how to apologize as he feared for his life. Jack quickly calmed down and reassured Jeff who managed to get into his bunk with little issue. This was the last we had heard of Jeff for our brief nightly stay there for I'm sure he was mortified by even thinking of trying to get out of his bed and back in until Jack left. Enters John. Our bunk room was sealed off from the common area by two doors suspended from the ceiling on tracks that recessed back into the walls. John managed to bang both doors into walls very loudly, trip over something on the floor, dumb his duffel bag and God-knows how many plastic bags onto the ground, and proclaim, "Shit!" (again in a way that can not be considered anything like whispering) all in a matter of seconds. Again, fast to the trigger, Jack sprung out of bed and screamed, "Ok what in the FUCK is going on in this fucking place?!". John, in a not so subtle voice pierced what little silence was left with a long-winded explanation as to what happened. "Dude, just stop. Just fucking stop and keep it down so SOME of us can get some sleep" cried jack. John continued his doing his thing all the while verbally explaining to himself everything that he was doing: from looking for his tooth brush to counting his money. For about 20 minutes this went on until Jack finally got out of bed and got in John's face and asked him very forcefully to keep it down or get out. As they stood my head was 4 to 5 feet away from them at the same level. I prayed to got if they started swing I would not get hit with a stray punch or get shot or something. After all, I was already hurting from the fall earlier in the day. Finally Jack went back to sleep, and I fell asleep when John went to take a shower. I woke up a couple times throughout the night to John's tossing and turning, but I managed to get a few hours of sleep after Bob and my first day on the trip...

Welcome 2011

It's a brand new year: 2011 to be exact for those of you that didn't know. A lot of people hated 2010 for some reason. Yet as I look back on last year, I can't say it was a bad one for me. If anything, a lot of good things happened to me throughout the year: For one, I strengthened my relationship with my mother which was one of the main reasons I stayed back in this area to begin with. I strengthened my relationships with my friends...especially the ones at Ashburn Vol. Fire & Rescue Dept. I got hired as a paid firefighter with MWAA and was (still am) stationed at Dulles Airport. I've met some really good and genuine people with whom I hope I will stay in contact with no matter where my life takes me. On top of that, I completed one of the first steps to becoming a Paramedic locally and became an EMT-Enhanced (as of writing this I'm still waiting on my card). Yes, 2010 wasn't too bad. 2011 I have a decent amount to look forward to. If all goes well, I'm hoping to be an EMT-Intermediate by the end of the year. If all goes really well, then by the end of June! With a job that pays a little bit better than $11.80 an hour, I'm hoping to travel a lot more. I miss the freedom and adventure of living out west. I miss Antarctica desperately. I don't see myself living in either two for a good while but I can still travel a bit from here, the DC area. For now, I'm going to miss 2010 and everything it's done for me. At the same time I'm going to welcome in 2011 and pray that it's just as fruitful as 2010 was.

Sexually Frustrated Antarcticans

Even the animals are sexually frustrated in Antarctica!

'Sex pest' seal attacks penguin - BBC NEWS/SCIENCE

Obsession

Today, I didn't have much to do. I woke up at 11 (on purpose) at the firehouse, went home, checked my mail, went to the post office, Five Guys for lunch, then came back to prime my furnace with my landlord/friend. After that, well, I did very little productive work. One thing I did that has been on my mind the past couple of weeks was lay out my climbing gear and check out the equipment I'd use for ice climbing. After sitting like a child Indian-style around wall-to-wall climbing gear spread out over my carpet, I decided to some ice-climbing related "things" to pass the time. I pulled out all the clothing I'd wear for a 10-15 degree day sans strong winds. I got dressed, then I practiced knot-craft with my gloves, clipping and unclipping carabiners with my gloves, ice-axe handling, hooking, I did ice-axe pull-ups on a tree branch with everything on including a backpack, I went crazy. It's a good thing not many people can see me in my yard unless they try hard enough because I looked ridiculous. But I was having a blast. Said ridiculousness, however, led me to ask myself the question as to whether or not I was obsessed with climbing or not. Sure, I've been saying it for years but have I reached a level where that healthy obsession has become something obnoxious for others to deal with or something that has consumed my life? Haha, is their such a thing as an unhealthy obsession with climbing? I'm sure a lot of dirt-bag climbers out there would beg to differ. I guess until 12-step programs are advertised for climbers I'm pretty safe. Anyways, who's up for some New Hampshire ice climbing this month?

Down to Earth by Peter Gabriel

The hippie in me fell in love with this song instantly after watching Disney's Wall-E.


Down to Earth
by Peter Gabriel

Did you think that your feet had been bound
By what gravity brings to the ground?
Did you feel you were tricked
By the future you picked?
Well come on down

All these rules don't apply
When you're high in the sky
So come on down
Come on down

We're coming down to the ground
There's no better place to go
We've got snow upon the mountains
We've got rivers down below
We're coming down to the ground
To hear the birds sing in the trees
And the land will be looked after
We send the seeds out in the breeze

Did you think you'd escaped from routine
By changing the script and the scene?
Despite all you made of it
you're always afraid of the change

You've got a lot on your chest
Well you can come as my guest
So come on down
Come on down

We're coming down to the ground
There's no better place to go
We've got snow upon the mountains
We've got rivers down below
We're coming down to the ground
We'll hear the birds sing in the trees
And the land will be looked after
We send the seeds out in the breeze

Like the fish in the ocean
We felt at home in the sea
We learned to live off the good land
We learned to climb up a tree
then we got up on two legs
But we wanted to fly
When we messed up our homeland
and set sail for the sky

We're coming down to the ground
There's no better place to go
We've got snow upon the mountains
We got rivers down below
We're coming down to the ground
We'll hear the birds sing in the trees
And the land will be looked after
We send the seeds out in the breeze

We're coming down
Comin' down to earth
Like babies at birth
Comin' down to earth

Redefine your priorities
These are extraordinary qualities

We're coming down to the ground
There's no better place to go
We've got snow upon the mountains
We've got rivers down below
We're coming down to the ground
We'll hear the birds sing in the trees
And the land will be looked after
We send the seeds out in the breeze

We're coming down to the ground
There's no better place to go
We've got snow upon the mountains
We've got rivers down below
We're coming down to the ground
We'll hear the birds sing in the trees
And the land will be looked after
We send the seeds out in the breeze

An Accident Within the First 18 Hours of Owning A Vehicle: The Beginning of the Era of the White Whale (Summer 2009)

One of the best (and worst) decisions I made last summer was trading in my 2004 Nissan Xterra for a 1993 Ford F250. The X, surprisingly, was on it's last leg. Having blown a rear main seal twice in a year and not to mention the fact that I put well over 110,000 miles on the thing within 5 years, I was having some major doubts it would make back to the DC area at the end (well my end) of the 2009's fire season. So I decided to trade it in for whatever 4wd vehicle I could find that would match it's value. Now, Xterra's depreciate pretty easily after you buy them. Maybe it was just how hard I had ridden the poor vehicle over the decade...either way it wasn't worth shit when came time to trade it in. I was looking for other Xterra's or diesel pick-up trucks withing an 8 hour radius of Cedar City, UT. After a little over a month of searching I found the perfect truck for me: an all white 1993 Ford F250. The truck itself was located on a used car lot in Twin Falls, ID 6 hours away. Since I had been planning on visiting my daughter that week I decided to kill two birds with one stone. I took all the essentials out of the X and started making my way up I-15 for Twin Falls.

The truck itself was not for the faint of heart. The diamond plate running boards had seen better days. At one point the bed had been lined (very cheaply). Then, it was peeling and flaking like it was going out of style. The cab had a funk of chewing tobacco and body odor. To me, however, it was perfect. The bench seat in the front fit me comfortably. With an inch to spare on either end of me, I was able to lay completely stretched out across the bench. Fabulous! No more reclining my driver's seat to sleep at rest stops. It had a back bench seat that was accessible only by reclining the front bench seat. The truck came with 31" tires and a hell of a V8 diesel engine with an aftermarket turbo. I was sold. After some paperwork and a test drive, I transferred everything from the X to the truck and took a moment to say good-bye to the X-Terra. I still miss it to this day but I don't know if I'll buy another Xterra...but that's for another post all together. After a few hours at the dealership, I pulled out with my new [by ownership] truck and hit the road for Boise.The truck was pretty damn big...easily the biggest vehicle I've ever owned. Right away I dubbed it the White Whale.

I spent a day and a half in Boise. Things were going great with the truck. My first purchase was a truck box I got from a Home Depot in Twin Falls, ID. After that I bought a head unit in Boise which installed in the Best Buy parking lot on Franklin Ave. I left directly from Maleigha's mother's house to head back to Cedar City which is about a 7 to 8 hour drive [Note: many a woman I have come across has turned their nose up at the White Whale. Maleigha on the other hand fell in love with it when I let her crawl in and around on it...or at least that's how I interpreted her...]. I was making good timing as far as how early I left in the afternoon. I had expected to be in Cedar City late in the evening. Everything was going great until I got to Ogden, UT.

In the tail end of rush hour, I hit Ogden, UT on I-15. The truck was handling beautifully. Traffic was heavy but everyone was moving briskly at about 70-75 mph. As I was making my way through traffic I started coming up on the driver side of a tractor-trailer. Now, my dad had always taught me to be weary of traveling along side a semi at anytime. You never know if he's going to have a blow out or if he's going to lose control of the trailer. This lesson has always been stuck in my head since I was 16 so I waited for the car in front of me to gain a little distance so I could zip straight pass the trucker. I was about 20 feet behind the tractor-trailer in the lane next to him when all of a sudden I saw a puff of white smoke and a black object shoot sideways off the trailer of the semi into my lane directly in front of me. When it fell within range of my headlights I recognized what it was right away: his tire. "Fuck me!" was the first though that came across my mind when I realized that there was no way in hell I was going to dodge this shredded tire 20 feet in front of me all the while driving 75 mph with traffic all around me. The only thing I could do was put a death grip on my steering wheel and pray for the best. I remember feeling the front end of the truck launch into the air followed by the rear end. My hood buckled as if something hit it from the inside but other than that the truck kept rolling as if nothing happened to it. As I looked in my rear view mirror I saw several cars swerve to miss the 3 foot tall piece of rubber that I had shredded even more. I thought to myself, "Hell yeah! This is one tough vehicle!" High off of my new found confidence I started to regain my speed to catch up with traffic. After a few seconds of acceleration, I started to lose power and my accelerator was getting spongy. I took my foot off of it for a couple seconds and hit it again. My pedal was even spongier the second time around. Eventually, I felt a snap and the pedal went straight to the floor. At the same time, I noticed the needle on my tachometer start climbing as my engine started racing. Slowly I started to uncontrollably gain speed in the rush hour traffic. 75. 80. 85. 90. 95. Pegged out. The speedometer's needle stopped at 95 but I could feel myself still steadily accelerating. At this point, I had to take evasive action to not hit other motorists on Interstate 15. Never before up until this point in my life had I been more scared shit less. For a brief moment I started panicking. Once I remembered I had a horn and that I grew up driving on metropolitan Washington DC highways, I dealt with the speed temporarily as I started troubleshooting ways to slow down. I jumped on my brakes which helped only till about 40 mph at which point they started smoking and being overrun by the engine. I knew if I threw it into neutral at whatever absurd number of thousands of RPMs it was running, I'd probably blow up the transmission. My only other option was to turn the truck off and pray to God that I could main control without power steering. At that same time as if God was listening to the aforementioned prayer, I noticed a off ramp for UT 134 or W 2700 N St in the northern part of town. I cut off a few cars and another semi at a speed of over 100 mph and aimed myself to barrel down the off ramp. Once on the off ramp and straight I killed my engine. I soon realized how horrendous the manual steering was on a truck that size at which point I started the engine again to aim for a field near the intersection of the road below and the Southbound off-ramp. Once I had the field in my sight, I killed the engine and rode the breaks until I came to a stop on top of a Juniper bush near the intersection. Now I have no shame explaining to yall how badly I was shaking. I took a minute to gather myself and breathe. When I got, popped my hood, and cleared out the smoke, I found a piece of tire the size of a college text book sitting where an oil tube going into my turbo should have been and a snapped accelerator cable. For some God awful reason, the springs on Ford throttle assemblies will rotate the throttle 1.5 times backwards leaving it open without any tension being applied to it (i.e. a throttle cable attached to an accelerator). I gave AAA a call and had the tow truck driver tow it to the nearest Advanced Auto Parts. Now, this is why I believe in karma (again, for another post): after dropping my truck off in the parking lot of Advanced Auto Parts, I decided to sleep for the night and deal with everything in the morning. The tow truck driver, now off duty after having dealt with me took it upon himself to make sure I got to whatever motel I wanted to go to within Ogden. All I have to say is pay it forward people and it will come back to you! I made it to a Motel 6, went to a bar nearby for a much needed drink, and slept for several hours.

I woke to have my truck towed to a AAA approved shop nearby where I was told the only thing I needed to have done was get a replacement throttle cable installed. Perfect. $35 part, $85 of labor and I was back on the road. We found the breather tube for the oil behind the turbo. A hose clamp or two later and I had it back on within a couple minutes. Now this shop had no cables in stock so I had to wait till 1600 in the afternoon for the cable to get there and for them to take the 10 minutes to install it. So the entire day I spent walking around downtown Ogden on top of a couple rounds of pool with a Jazz guitarist named Jimmy I had met in a bar where I ate lunch. At 1700 I was back on the road. 2000 I was back in Cedar. I moved some things into the truck, checked under the hood to make sure everything was still OK, and went to bed early considering I had to work in the morning. Little did I know that this was only a preview as to what was to come with my ownership/partnership with the White Whale.

A New Approach

It's been a couple months since I last posted. Laziness can be an evil snare. During my hiatus I was discussing my blog with a friend of mine who's a poly sci major at Catholic University and an intern at a pretty reputable online media source. My friend is an avid writer both due to her course load and her recreational writing. She suggested that I write sometimes just for the sake of writing and not necessarily just because something major or interesting happened in my life. I had start to do that a little but I definitely don't write as much as I should considering how much I enjoy it which is the important thing. Another thing I kick myself for is not writing about a lot of the adventures I've manage to land myself in. So here's what I'm going to do. I'll write about my feelings and my interpretations one the events to which I'm exposed through out my day to day (or more realistically week to week) life. I'm going to write about the dumb things I do on a regular basis. I'll write about some of the more interesting adventures I wind up on as well. I'll even fill readers in on stories from the past few years that I've neglected to post here once or twice a week. I use the word readers as if I have scores of people jonesing for a hit on an RSS feed from tmbevans.blogspot.com. To be honest, I'm happy to share my experiences with those that wish to listen to me or actually care and want to hear about what I do throughout my day to day life but in all honesty I write this blog for myself. This is my digital diary. If someone doesn't like my blog google is only a few keystrokes away. Anyways, I digress. I hope to transform my blog into a more fluid one. Feel free to give me feedback on my writing.

Simple rules that can make your travels through life a little more enjoyable

I often take inspiration from other peoples experiences and, after doing so, I try to change the way I live my life in order to live it better. As a traveler and someone who not only meets hundreds of new people a year but often has the opportunity to touch or change their lives I am always trying to find better ways to not only treat them but treat myself. While talking to a friend who was upset about a glitch in her travel plans, I recalled 2 websites I had stumbled across that I often reference to keep my outlook on life positive and make the most of the everyday experiences I gain. I want to share them with anyone that reads this blog. Enjoy.

http://www.nomad4ever.com/2006/11/25/50-life-lessons/

http://www.vagabondinglife.com/rules-of-vagabonding/

MWAA

Somehow, I managed to get hired on to the Metropolitan Washington Airports Authority's fire department. I completed my first week of orientation to the Airports Authority and it's fire department and I started my first regular shift yesterday. I'm ecstatic to be working there. Great people, experienced firefighters, experiences I won't have anywhere else my career takes me, my current job (next to the Antarctic Fire Department of course) probably takes the award for being the best one I've ever worked. I will explain more about the MWAA Fire Department as well as what working there entails in time but for now I wanted to share my excitement with this new job.