MC Escher Perspective

This entry overlaps with the last (entitled Live Fast Die Never). Forgive me for the repetition.

The two weeks in Snowmass, Colorado, were generally pleasant. “Mountain time” meant that I could see Charmed at 7am each morning and the usual shows in the evening. I ate breakfast while reading, had lunch at the boys’ place watching tv (Spongebob sometimes) or on the net and had dinner with them too. I barely saw Phil and Tony though I was in the same condo with them preferring to spend my time with Glen, Glenn, Steve and er… Steve (it saved on having to remember too many names). I avoided drinking with them having learnt that it is more about conquering beer than a social get together. On the first night there, Steve (Molloy) got so drunk he was standing outside the condo shouting, which Phil actually commented on the next day… “Did anyone hear the row going on last night?”

On the middle weekend, Charlie visited to save me from going crazy seeing the same faces each day. Of course I was soon going crazy just seeing his face all day. One day I will learn how to interact with people rather than computers and televisions. On the Saturday we walked up to Cathedral Lake which started at 10 000 feet up and ended at 12 000 feet. The air was very thin and despite a week getting acclimatised, I found it incredibly hard to breathe. We took our time going up. In fact we took four hours. But that does include a rather delicious lunch. Charlie found it harder than me but then again I did make him carry the rucksack. There were landslides and switchbacks to wear us out even more. At the end of it was the lake… grey and featureless. Not particularly worth the climb but a welcome sight as it meant we could go down. Unfortunately we were going down in the rain and it was freezing cold… and Charlie had left the roof on his convertible down so the car was no safe-haven. The next day we played “Frisbee golf” on Mount Snowmass. It took us a few tries to get up the mountain. The first trip up the ski lift took us to the wrong place. The second trip took us to the correct destination but apparently we needed to buy Frisbees in order to play. Who’d have thought it? Third time lucky, we started to play. The “holes” were metal baskets about 100m from where the markers told us to start and scattered all over the mountain. We got quite a lot of walking in. Needless to say, I lost on nearly every hole.

The second week progressed much as the first and we left a day early on the Friday as Glen was especially tired of the conference. I felt a little cheated out of an evening in the luxurious condo and a few physics lectures but had to go with them. The day was not good however as I woke feeling ill and unable to travel. But I had to and this time we had the addition of Lisa in the car- Steve’s girlfriend. She had a peculiar talent for picking loud music that did not help my icky feeling and the journey was terrible. Glen and Stewart gave as much sympathy as they could but Steve seemed to drive badly on purpose, kept shaking my seat and only gave his attention to Lisa talking to me only to demand I look around the back of the car for his camera lens cap or move into the back seat so he could share the middle row with Lisa (who couldn’t move into the back herself because she gets travel sick- lovely logic there not to move the girl who could get sick but instead move the girl who already was). Ill as I felt, I didn’t say anything to him and just cried on the inside that there was nothing I could do to feel better.

We arrived at our destination, Cortez in Colorado, late in the evening. During the 7 or 8 hours of travel we stopped once to have coffee (or in my case peppermint tea)- we didn't even have toilet breaks. Feeling as I did, I bowed out of dinner and went straight to my room. I woke feeling much better the next day- just like my usual self. We went to Mesa Verde, a National Park famed for its cave dwellings. We first went to the "Balcony" which was a guided tour on the face of a canyon-side. Before going down the face, Steve and I argued about the day before. He was upset I refused to sit in the back. I was upset that he didn't understand how sick I was. It was not pretty. But... anyway. Glen volunteered to help the guide ("ranger" actually) and was on point as the guide picked up the rear. We went down a steep path and then up a ladder to get to the balcony rooms. The buildings were perched on a ledge on this cliff face and built from local sandstone. The holes you can see in the pictures are doors, not windows. So tiny yet the people were typically as tall as me. Some small holes in the walls were for telling the time apparently. The houses seemed to be typically two storeys and they were also ventilated for cool air to come in at the base of the room and leave at the top. My favourite thing was the little staircase carved into the stone that required you to start with the correct (right) foot or else you'd find yourself crossing your legs over and unable to turn. It was like dancing with the correct moves- I felt complete with the steps. At one point of this tour, the ranger asked Glen to demonstrate how they ground wheat with sandstones (poorly is the answer as the sandstone would be quickly eroded) describing the many diseases this activity caused. For being a good-sport, Glen was honoured with a Junior Ranger badge. I suspect these are usually for children.

When we got away from the tour group Steve had a go at me again. For arguing with him when people were around. For embarrassing him maliciously and on purpose. Yeah right. Thanks for understanding how annoying and unthinking you were Steve. Thanks for understanding how upset you made me. It takes two to have an argument. If Steve hadn't attacked me I could have born his company quite well for the rest of the trip. Instead there was tension throughout.

We walked a couple of trials to get more out of Mesa Verde. We saw another small settlement of cave dwellings this time by the base of the canyon and walked a few miles up the side of the canyon to see a petroglyph which (apparently) depicted the journey of several tribes from the Grand Canyon to their final destinations. The walk was not terribly easy on my knees which were feeling the toll of three weeks of walking and climbing.

We didn't get on the road until 5pm and yet had a lot of driving to do if we were to make it to the Grand Canyon the next day. We drove first to "Four Corners" where Colorado, Utah, New Mexico and Arizona meet. After a few photos and a short game of "State Twister" (Stew: Left foot Utah), we were travelling again this time in Arizona.

The road went through Navajo. The Indian reservation was grim. Barely a settlement in sight and what there was comprised of a gas station and a burger bar. Despite the late hour, we had to move on to get out into somewhere still showing signs of life. Life seemed mainly to be in the heavens as for 150 miles we were constantly in a lightning storm. There were cells in every direction. We watched the bolt and forked lightning in awe. Sometimes it struck the ground and held the connection for seconds. Sometimes the bolt stretched from cloud to cloud. We saw every kind of lightning, close and far. And yet not a whisper of thunder. It was eerie. We got out of the car just as the last rays of sunset left the horizon and watched the lightshow. Steve set his SLR to take pictures over 30 second exposures. Fingers crossed at least one turns out well. But, as I shall tell you, this wasn't the only glorious spectacle I couldn't capture digitally.

We stopped for the night at a place called Page choosing a hotel right by a fantastic country and western bar which obviously had more tourists than locals. Despite the late hour (it was 9pm when we arrived, Arizona time, which corresponded to 10pm in Colorado), I decided to brave dinner, partly because I was in a cheery mood after the light show and partly because nothing was on tv. I had a small and cheap meal- just soup and salad- but still found it hard to get through. But made up for it by having a couple of cocktails. There was a band playing in the next room. Lots of Elvis and similar songs. It made for a great atmosphere and a fun night. I left as the bar closed around 11pm and went to my room for well-earned sleep but the others went on to a bowling alley and another bar.

The next day Steve had a terrible migraine. The evil part of me wondered whether this was pay-back for him ignoring my pain... but the other side of me just worried that there was nothing I could do or say to make him better (or more fun to travel with). That day Glen and Stew bought PSPs. Which is uninteresting really and so won't be mentioned again. Arizona by daylight wasn't as dramatic or indeed lethal as Arizona by night but it had its charm. Red rocks for as far as the eye could see soon gave way to rolling green fields and pine trees sailing the horizon. This was the north rim of the Grand Canyon. Taller than the south rim, it got a lot of rain and was a stark contrast to the desert of the Navajo just beyond. We drove to the Grand Canyon and peered at the view. The canyon itself is red rock and you can't see the bottom- only the other side. I know this seems terrible of me but it is a bit like looking out of a window only to find your view comprises of a brick wall. I just can't be awed by a rock-face any more. Academically I know that the rocks are pretty much as old as the Earth… and I guess that is astounding. But really, I was a hell of a lot more astounded by the sight I saw in the evening.

I made everyone go out at 9pm to an activity at the canyon. It was just a short walk followed by a short talk and story-telling on the edge of the canyon with no light pollution for miles. Oh. My. It was a clear night. Not a cloud in the sky. And I have never seen it so beautiful. For the first time in my life I saw the Milky Way and shooting stars. It was so stunning. It should have been pitch black as there seriously wasn't a single artificial light source on our walk (and there was no moon in the sky) but the sky was so bright just with stars. Our guide pointed out constellations and the stories behind them, Indian and Greek. I had problems working out what stars he was talking about and really wished that he'd shut up so I could just bask. He got everyone to be utterly silent for a minute so we could hear all of the night sounds. Mainly crickets of course but we could also hear the wind in the canyon. It truly was an astounding sight and a magical walk, trusting your instincts and the person in front of you to guide you along a dark path with sharp canyon drops to either side.

Riding on the wave of happiness from this, the night was not so bad. Due to lack of accommodation in the area, I ended up sharing with Glen and Stew who were both monumental snorers. It was a tricky situation as we had managed to get two rooms each with a single and a double bed. Obviously Steve and Lisa were willing (and wanting) to have the double but they were unwilling to share their room so we had to drag the mattress of their single into the other room. I didn’t make a fuss and indeed tried to be as cheery as possible but it was obvious that the best solution for all would have been for me to share the room with Steve and Lisa given that I could not be expected to sleep with Glen and Stewart. But instead I bore it out and lay awake all night listening to their chorus, sleeping eventually when they left the room at 6am for the canyon walk. I was not intending to do the full walk down the side of the canyon to “Roaring Springs” anyway, due to tensions in previous walks where they had gone far too fast for me and an increasingly painful knee, so it was not a difficult decision to choose sleep over a 6am trek. I spent the day alone in the room as it seemed impossible to make it the 17 miles from the cabins to the National Park without a car. I did some work that I urgently needed to do anyway (a poster for the RAL Summer School) and wrote a lengthy email to Susannah. It wasn’t a bad way to spend the day. The others returned around 5pm with tales of their hard walk up the side of the canyon. If Steve found it hard, chances are I would never have managed it. That evening was almost farcical as they discussed staying the next night in Yosemite (near San Francisco). I watched them, waiting for them to realise that by spending this extra day in the Grand Canyon we were relinquishing the chance not only to spend the next night somewhere nice but also the opportunity to visit anywhere en route including the planned stop at the Hoover Dam. After an hour of bickering, they caught onto the fact that there was nothing to it other than to drive non-stop the next day to Bakersfield. Even so, my suggestion that we leave before 10 was met with derision.

I slept in the bathroom. With the fan on to drown out the duelling snorers. The next and penultimate day, we drove pretty much non-stop (via Zion so Lisa could see the marvellous scenery) until Vegas where everyone insisted on going to an electronics store so that Steve could buy an ipod and Stew a laptop charger (for the car). Needless to say, the store had neither item in stock and yet we spent an hour there somehow. I browsed the dvds and found a particularly humorous one- Jekyll and Hyde the musical starring David Hasselhof. I showed this to Lisa expecting a laugh but instead got "I've been looking for that for years!" and she bought the thing. Odd girl. That day, we drove until midnight. We stopped off for a meal at around 9 at a diner and then had the hassle of trying to find a shop that sold chocolate cake for Lisa, the chocolate cake freak (I thought it an adorable trait until it emerged that it was an actual dependency), as the diner was closing and wouldn't serve dessert. After that, it was about 10 and Glen got in to drive. We hit our destination, Bakersfield, at 11 and he just kept driving. "Er Glen, you just passed some motels. How about taking the next exit?" He just drove. "Er Glen... what are you doing? Okay- take the next exit?" He drove... "Er Glen... we just left Bakersfield. Are you insane?" He drove. And giggled. Insanely. Honestly he just drove and giggled for miles and miles... We saw another motel and said "Stop please for the love of bob!" and yet he just drove. Steve was getting so agitated and quite threatening. To tell the truth, I found it amusing. Eventually Glen ceased giggling and actually did pull over at a motel. Which was dark and empty. We drove again and stopped at the next motel and this one had a guy at the desk, got three rooms and went our ways. I was oddly happy at the events. It annoyed Steve and made me laugh. The motel we found was kind of rough and smelly but at least it was of a reasonable price- as the only one on this trip without someone to split the cost of the rooms, I was grateful.

We finally got everyone away by nine the next morning. The return journey was refreshingly uneventful. The highlight was a presentation on finding the top quark at the ILC by Stewart who had a job interview as soon as he landed in the UK. He made his 4:30pm flight and we all made it home. Safe and sound. And more or less, alive.

Splash of paint

I finally got around to making the template my own. I have still to figure out how to get rid of those rounded boxes and I may have forgotten some other little things... but it looks okay I think. For now.

Live Fast Die Never

Glen picked me up at 8am Wednesday in the mammoth SUV “Ford Excursion”. I admit to some feelings of guilt about being driven in an SUV. It is very comfortable but I do feel we could have got away with something that doesn’t destroy small countries every time it accelerates from 0 to 60. We then went to pick up Steve and Stewart and were on the road by quarter to nine. It wasn’t a difficult journey to Las Vegas- just a long one. The countryside in California was dry and rolling and only reached a high point when we drove past a reservoir. And yet I was pressed up against the window as such a dry country was novel to me. Drier was of course yet to come. We stopped off at a diner for brunch and then another for a late lunch. The second diner was in the Mojave Desert. I can confirm that deserts are both hot and dry. I went to toilet before I left and came outside with my hands still wet from the sink. By the time I had walked the twenty metres to the car, they were totally dry.

We planned to come into Vegas along Frank Sinatra Drive and had “My Way” cued on the ipod. But Glen did it his way instead and we came in via a rather odd route. We did get onto Las Vegas Boulevard though and saw such key hotels as the one that looks like a pyramid, the one that loons like Manhattan and finally one that looked like Paris- our hotel for the night.

We checked in and took a quick shower in our respective rooms. The room was surprisingly standard for $125 a night. I expected tea-making facilities at the least… oh dear, my mother comes through again. We met downstairs at 7:30pm for pre-dinner cocktails (well, Steve had a beer) and then went to a restaurant in Paris. It was all rather nice though they did rush us a bit even resorting to bringing the main course before the starters had been finished. With cameras at the ready, we left Paris and crossed the street to the Belagio. Glen was raving about the fountains. After a few minutes of scepticism, the music started. Luck be a Lady Tonight… a song that regrettably reminds me of “dance” at school with Mrs Bramley. The arc of fountains in front of the Belagio started to spray water in time with the music, sometimes going high, sometimes low, sometimes dancing from side to side. Here in the middle of the desert, water was putting on a performance. It was rather good. We popped inside the Belagio to gaze at its opulence. Paris was expensive yet slightly cheesy with an interior decked out like a Parisian street (well, a Hollywood-style Parisian street) complete with fake sky ceiling. The Belagio was quite simply sumptuous. Except for the odd figure made out of flowers and fake mechanical owls as large as a small car.

We then walked down to New York and spent a short amount of time in an Irish pub just so Steve could feel more at home. There was a band playing with a girl dancing, each rapid stamp of the foot picked up by a microphone adding to the music. It was great to watch and listen to but Steve informed me that he had seen children dance better. We stayed in New York for a while, moving onto a small bar with a band playing. From here to the MGM casino (if that is what it is called…) where Steve, Glen and Stewart started their gambling of the evening on the Blackjack table. I hung around to see Steve get two blackjacks in the same hand and then made my excuses to stumble back to Paris by 1am.

I woke at 9 and flicked on TNT for my quite necessary dose of Charmed. It pained me greatly to miss it the day before although I am consoled to know that it will be on tape when I get home. This hour felt good. I met up with the boys at 10:30am. I was so surprised to see them up. Apparently they had rolled in around 6am after losing about $100 each on the poker tables. Despite next to no sleep, they looked good and we head off to a coffee shop for breakfast before hitting the road again.

This journey took us from Nevada with large plains of sand and low lying bushes to the north-west corner of Arizona which was slightly more dramatic but still too hot. From Arizona to Utah and Zion National Park. Here the landscape was quite dramatic with steep cliff faces of red rock slowly becoming steeper and more verdant as we entered the canyon. We arrived in Springdale and checked into the Pioneer Lodge. The boys had a suite to themselves- a bedroom with twin queens, two bathrooms, a kitchen and a living room with a pull-out bed. My room was slightly more standard with just a bed and bathroom but it still struck me as much better than Paris. The bed and walls were red and the furniture made from dark logs. I loved it. I also loved the boys’ sofas and tea-making capabilities.

On the first night, we went to a bar and discovered the peculiarities of a dry state. Apparently drinks could only be served with food. Which meant we had some Mexican snacks with our drinks (though I stuck to the Cranberry juice). We then played a little pool. I lagged behind Glen during our game, potting a few balls when no one was looking prompting calls of cheat, finally winning when he potted the black before time. We then picked up more drinks (cocoa for me) and crisps at a local Shell and bought some souvenir playing cards leading to a game of poker in the boys’ suite. This quickly came to an end as a thunderstorm started up and we went onto the balcony to watch.

I got up at 8am the next day and switched TNT on to discover the last minute of Charmed showing. The wretched state had the programme on an hour early (two considering the time difference). Disappointed, I went up and disturbed the boys, made a cup of tea for all that wanted it and had a full breakfast in the lodge’s restaurant. Then we were off for our day of walking, climbing and screaming in terror in Zion National Park.

We started our climb up Angel’s Landing at quarter to twelve, cunningly making it so that we walk at the hottest part of the day. We were all loaded up with over a gallon (whatever that is…) of water each (and talking of odd units of measurement, it was about 96 degrees Fahrenheit). The walk started at a gentle rise with a path that constantly doubled back on itself to get up the side of the mountain. I found it incredibly hard going and was constantly lagging behind the guys probably annoying them a lot but what could I do. The path went higher and higher and I felt deader and deader until finally we came to an open place where there was room to lie down and great views to enjoy. Was this the top? Of course not. It was merely the start of the top. If that… Here I spent a few blissful minutes just watching the little chipmunks play and drinking a lot of water. Then I had to face the strenuous final climb to the top. And I do mean climb.

The way quickly became worn footholds in sandstone 50cm apart. At intervals a chain was pinned to the rock face letting me have some very welcome safety and aid. There was a sheer drop to one side of us at all times and for one hairy segment the sheer drop was both to the right and to the left. But I walked forward, only looking at where I trod, not down at where I could end up. It was physically rather tough not least because I could not reach many of the holds easily and did not trust my shoes to the slopes. Heights don’t really bother me except for the very real possibility of a stumble leading to death, but they bothered Steve who nonetheless gritted his teeth and kept going to the top. This stretch along sheer drops only lasted for half a mile but took a long time to complete. Each time we thought we had reached the top we had invariably further to go. But I continued at my own pace and felt the safety of the million-year-old rocks below my feet.

Was the view from the top worth the climb? Actually the climb was worth the climb as it proved that I could do it. I could walk 5 miles ranging over 1,400 feet, 1 mile of which being in death defying conditions. Well, vaguely unnerving conditions. The top was peaceful. I just lay exhausted on the hot rocks as everyone else skipped about the summit. The views were great but it was the closeness to the sky I appreciated. That and the distance from the ground. I slowly got into leaping about snapping the pics but primarily I just wanted to lie and slowly seep into the rock. Alas, not to be. We had to go down. This was easier for me except that my ankle was banging the edge of my shoe and causing me pain. I was more or less skipping down by the time we were past the sheer drop segment. I felt good.

Then we went on the shuttle to take us further up the canyon to the very end (Temple of Sinawava). This was a surfaced 2 mile walk. It was pretty level and again I was having problems keeping up. The area was very wet and green. Rather different from what we had just walked up.

If it weren’t for the hoards of tourists, I may have enjoyed it but it was quite an effort to dodge people and keep up with the others. On the route we past rock faces that bore the marks of old waterfalls and landslides. Looking up at one rock face, we could see water streaming out from an aquifer where it met impermeable rock. At the end of the path, a river blocked the way. There were warnings posted about flash floods advising people that they leave the path at their own risk. Many people were wading in the river, going a little further upstream. I wonder what they found there… Alas, I will never know as we turned back.

We took the shuttle back home, briefly stopping at the tourist centre. Being a Friday, I turned the television on as soon as I got back to my room and watched tv. We went out for dinner at a restaurant/diner that loved bumbleberries. The back of the menu explained what they were- a burple coloured fruit whose sweetness depends on the size of the heart of the picker. Groan. What a crazy place. We had a meal and bumbleberry pie and then moved onto the same pub as the night before. On ordering the cheapest item on the menu to validate the guys drinking, the barman said “Yeah, that’ll work”. So I lost pool quite badly to Steve and trudged back home to go back on the internet and watch more tv.

Checkout time the next day was 11am. I was banging on their door from 9:30 but couldn’t rouse them until 10:30 (and was asked “why didn’t you wake us sooner?!”). During that hour I sat on the balcony reading and enjoying the view. We all made it though with barely seconds to spare and started on our way to Moab. We took a scenic route that started in Zion National Park. To get out of the valley we had to go through a tunnel in the mountains. It was like the exit route the pilots took in Buck Rogers and certainly took us to a different land. On one side it was green and tranquil and on the other the rocks were all reds, yellows and oranges and the environment too rocky for most plants. In honour of this, we listened to some musical version of War of the Worlds.

The route took us through a variety of rocky landscapes. There were white “checkerboard” mountains (the horizontal lines of strata were crossed with striations from heating and cooling), frozen red seas of rocks with ripples and tall yellow pillars. Later in the day we turned a corner and entered fresh green pastures complete with horses running in paddocks. Suddenly we were in ranch territory and the few towns we cam across spoke of black and white hats and showdowns at noon.

After a day of hard driving (if you ignore the late start) we get rooms at a Holiday Inn Express in Moab. We went for a meal in a brewery (in Utah?!) and watched a stunning thunderstorm with forked lightning through the window. Once we returned to the hotel, the evening was spent swapping pictures. Four people with about 2Gb between them can take a lot of pictures and videos.

The morning started with a complementary breakfast (it may actually have been complimentary- I am not sure Americans realise the difference) so we were up relatively early. We drove to Dead Horse Point which is so-named as cowboys would drive horses to the precipice of the cliff and capture them as they get trapped. It is more famous for being the place for the famous over-the-cliff scene in Thelma and Louise which we considered re-enacting but lacked the wig for someone to play Susan Sarandon. The views were dramatic and spoke of millions of years of evolution. We walked in the blistering noon heat without water and shade for a couple of miles to get the views which resulting in me feeling rather dizzy but it was nothing a few minutes in the shade of the tourist office couldn’t cure. On our path we saw small puddles of water teeming with life but other than that it seemed a desert.

We left Utah and entered Colorado that afternoon. The hills and mountains covered with pines and chalets made it feel Alpine. Snowmass Village was up Snowmass Mount, coincidently. The route there was steep and our condo at the top of the village. In fact, the group of condos was called Top of the Village and the building housing ours was called Summit. Top + Summit = a long and hard climb up from the conference building each day. I was in a condo with Phil and Tony but spent a lot of my time with Glen, Glenn and Steve. On the middle weekend I did a 5 mile hike, climbing from 10 000 to 12 000 feet. One segment was incredibly steep indeed- a series of switchbacks helped with an almost vertical climb. At the top was Cathedral Lake in a small meadow of wild flowers. It was peaceful but far too cold to hang around. On the Sunday, I played Frisbee golf (quite poorly). The novelty value just added to the usual fun of chucking a Frisbee about.

Blue Sun

Two by two... hands of blue...

Two by two... hands of blue...








edit: From an email to sus...

Well we drove through SF to Sonoma. SF was totally fog bound and quite cold.

We had lunch in a park in the centre of Sonoma town and there was a newly wed couple there having pictures taken (still in their wedding costumes... I mean, er clothes. Whatever). I heard the wedding photographer call the guy "Angel"! Ha! So there are people called Angel in RL.

Then we went to a winery and had a tour of the vineyards and the caves and saw where they crushed and fermented the grapes. It was rather nice. The country there is stunning- rather volcanic I think (all extinct now). Anyway. Wine tasting next. It didn't taste as good as the winery we went to down south of SF but we bought something that tasted of elderflower cordial (the guy that poured our drinks had no clue was elderflowers were and swore that the floral taste to the wine was honeysuckle).

Anyway, we then drove back through SF and then went to Half Moon Bay where we had dinner and then went to a small cafe/bookshop for coffee/tea (I had camomille- I have been caffeine free of evenings for about two years now if you discount chocolate). The cafe was actually meant to be closed but the owner was sitting outside on the porch and still gave us drinks. It was wonderful... small but cosy and the shelves were just full of interesting books. I wanted so many. Oh, and above a little bin as a sort of target for waste that needs to be thrown into it was a picture of Dubya Bush. It was that kind of place. I asked the guy whether he had read all the books he sold and he said that that was the idea- he wanted a bookshop so that he could read all the books he wanted. But of course suddenly it was a business that ate up his time rather than allowed him time to read. But still, I can't help but look at this small place overlooking the sea and think yes- that is what I want.

Alcatraz

I finally got a digital camera last Saturday. I went into SF with the family today and took a few snaps. That's it really. It does movies too...