Trees

While walking through Big Trees State Park with Jason yesterday, a poem I wrote in 2006 or 2007 kept popping into my head, but I could only remember the first sentence. So I decided to dig it out and post it.

Trees

For those of us who seek out
bigger windows, wide open fields
and mountains so large
you can reach out and touch them:
do we become trees?
Perhaps our last breath
shifts the wind into the leaves
and our mark is left in the incessant sway
destined to forever move the earth.
For those of us who lean towards silence
in an effort to calm our individual storms,
and turn our faces upwards,
to face the great wide open-
and breathe:
maybe we become trees.

Checking In

It was brought to my attention that I hadn't written since crashing a fire up north and there was a possibility that I had indeed been arrested. Have no fear, we made it out with minimal damage to our reputations, and quite a bit more interest in the research we're doing.

I figured I better get back on here and give some updates so you all know I'm alive and well.

So I passed Calculus...with a B minus. Not fantastic, but considering the stress I was under, I'll take it. Next semester will be Calculus II, (Calculus based) Physics I, Computer Programming for Meteorology and the first of two installments of basic Meteorology. It's going to be a rough semester.

I am also dating a fantastic man that I met back in 2012 (his facebook will tell you it was 2013, because that's what men do) on a fire when we were both on hotshot crews. We've seen each other on fires since then but lived pretty far apart, making any sort of relationship a tough one. Now we're 2.5- 3 hrs apart depending on how many times my blessed Garmin gets me lost. Yeah, same Garmin that told me to go have lunch at "Treat Your Feet" which I probably should've done considering my right big toenail is now looser than ever and is probably going to jump ship at the most inconvenient time.

Jason and I spent a (somewhat stormy) day roaming around Yosemite National park, and then I headed back up there with my lab to do some mountain meteorology studies for a few days. We camped out and ate in town.

This last weekend Jason and I went to Sonora to hang out with Corey who was roaming the west side of the Sierras. After having lunch and walking around town, we headed out to the nearest reservoir to cool off. On the way out there I got a text from the guys at the lab saying there was a big fire going off near me. I scanned the sky around me while Jason drove and then saw the plume. It was hilarious. Uh oh, oops, suddenly out of cell reception.

We watched the plume build while we changed into swim suits and hopped into the reservoir. All three of us being "fire people", we remarked about how different it was to see that and not care, and not have to cancel our plans. We floated in the murky water and turned our faces toward the sun. This is what normal people do during the summer.

Corey had to return to Mammoth to feed the mules and horses and Jason and I explored Big Trees State Park. It was nice to get up to cooler air.

I've decided that summer is about bouncing from one swimming hole to the next. When I was leaving Yosemite with the lab, we found an awesome swimming hole to cool off before heading back to the city. It reminded me of when I was in high school and summers really were summers.

Maybe that's what they are now?

Fire Chasers

"Froggy Night" chirped away on my cell phone and I had a feeling I was already awake, but I have no proof and no real reason to think so. I fumbled for the phone and managed to dismiss the alarm, rather than snooze. Complex matters at 4:30 in the morning. I crawled out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen in the dark to pour a cup of coffee. I wondered if summer will always be fire season. My eight mile run and my hopes of driving out to Quady Winery were both squashed as I poked contacts into my eyes, threw a steak and an apple into my back pack and burned my mouth on a slurp of coffee out of my Hydro-Flask.

I was heading up to the Bully Fire west of Redding with the lab, although we were not exactly invited. As we drove north, I searched the web for information, waiting to see if any of my friends posted on Facebook that they were also going to the fire, so that I could ask them where camp was. Since it belonged to Cal-Fire, and all my friends are Forest Service, no one really stood a chance of going. Politics that drive everyone nuts but nothing ever changes.

As we neared Redding, we pulled into a Walmart parking lot to launch a weather balloon to get a vertical profile of the atmosphere. Since it was my first balloon launch, the guys let me release it. After letting it go, we verified that it was sending data to the laptop in the front seat and headed to the grocery store for the day's meal. Neil, the PhD in our group, outlined his plan. Richard would help set up the Lidar and Radiometer and I would "run interference" with the fire folks to make sure we were allowed in and didn't later get discovered and kicked out. That made me nervous.

As we approached the road block, I rolled down the window as the guys on road started to wave us through (we look pretty official in our fire chaser truck). "Do you know where drop point 2 is?" I asked. They looked back with blank stares. "I'm sorry, what?" "Drop point 2." "Uh, we don't know anything about that... but the fire is that way..." and pointed me in the direction of the large plume. "Ok thanks!" I laughed as we drove past the road block and into the fire.

We passed by the heli-base trying not to be noticed. Neil spoke up from the back seat. "Carrie, this isn't actually something we could be arrested for is it?" I considered for a moment. It was possible, but probably unlikely. We weren't going to be in anyone's way and I had enough fire experience to most likely keep us all safe. I thought about the consequence of an arrest record with the new route my life was taking. It's not like I was going into public safety or anything, so.... is it ok to be arrested for trespassing on a fire? I decided it wouldn't be too bad, my boss would probably bail us out, and I'd have a story to tell Candace's kids.

I had Richard pull over when I saw a gathering of green pants so that I could get our hand-held radio cloned with the fire's frequencies. But....they were all cops. Huh. And we were trespassing on a fire. Interesting.

I hopped out of the truck as I donned my yellow fire shirt and approached the officers. "Do you guys have a cloning cable?" I asked.

One wise guy responded "A what? A cloning table?"

"No...cable. Cloning cable...for the radio." I waved my radio at him.

"Oh, uh, no. But I know how to stick my knife in to short circuit the programming mode".

Great, good for you. So do I. "Well do you have the fire frequencies? Is that an IAP?"

He looked down at the rolled up packet of papers in his hand. "Yeah."

"Can I get the frequencies from you?"

He stood over my shoulder as I scribbled frequencies in my notepad and continued to make comments about a cloning table. Fantastic. I had a new friend. I wondered why he didn't wonder why I didn't have the frequencies or an IAP. We thanked the officers and Richard drove off as I manually programmed the frequencies into our radio.

We drove through the fire and out the other side to a nice pull-out with a view of the fire. As the guys set up the equipment, I scanned the radio and took in the incident. It wasn't long before a truck pulled up and out hopped a yellow shirt and green pants. Here we go. 

He had a camera slung over each shoulder. Hmm...media perhaps? He came up and asked who were were with. I explained who we were but left out the part that no one really knew we were there except a group of cops who were now lounging in reclining lawn chairs. Turned out he was with a news outfit out of Redding. He took some photos and our names and left to find better news.

Minutes later a land-owner pulled up and joined me in taking in the scene of the fire. I commented that they hadn't evacuated him. He looked over at me with a squint and said "I wouldn't go if they tried". I wondered about the power of mandatory evacuations but thanked my lucky stars that they weren't that strict, because here we were.

A sheriff SUV pulled up and asked if the fire had turned around and was coming at us. An odd thing being as you could plainly see it was not. I asked if they had the frequency for the new command channel, Command Nine. "Are you kidding me? I can hardly talk to my dispatch". How do these guys survive?

"So what's that thing do anyway?" Asked the guy in the driver seat. Oh no, we've been found out. I let Neil explain the instruments in the back of our truck. The cops offered us drinks from their cooler, but we said we were good, and off they went.

Richard slept in the driver seat while Neil went back and forth adjusting the Lidar. At times I sat in the air conditioned truck, other times I stood out on the side of the road and watched the smoke plume. I was glad I wasn't out there cutting line. Not having the new command frequency, I listened to Air Attack on the air to ground channel and picked up two tactical channels. They had lost a burn a couple ridges over from us. I picked at the dry grass on the side of the road and made fun of Neil when the Lidar was pointing the wrong way due to a glitch in the computer's code.

Finally Neil got tired of collecting data and we headed towards Clear Creek to take a dip, stopping at the local market for beers to take with us. When we walked in, we were greeted by the smarty pants cop shooting comments about a cloning table. Pretty sure he thought he was funny. I went over and chatted while the guys bought beers. The cop introduced himself with a name I couldn't understand. I shook his hand and gave him my name and he introduced me to his partner across the table from him. His partner was younger, sitting stiffly and looking nervously around. I gathered he did not like working with his game-show-host partner, did not appreciate his sad attempts at flirting, was too young to be doing what he was doing, or all of the above.

When the guys were done checking out, I said good-bye and we headed down to the creek. We changed into our suits (mandatory on fire calls) and found a spot to jump in. It was shallow but fast moving. As I dove into the icy current, my sunglasses rolled off my face and down the small rapids just down river of me. Neil made a half hearted attempt to locate them but they were long gone.

We swam around a bit and sat on the hot rocks while the guys finished their beers. Then we made the long drive home. After navigating traffic (what are all these people doing out so late?) and a massive Bollywood convention on campus, I finally made it home at midnight. I downed a protein shake, took out my contacts, brushed my teeth and crawled in to bed.

While we were on the fire and out of cell reception, I received a phone call from the public information officer on the fire, that we were good to go and could come to the fire, we just had to call so and so and go through the channels. I was going to send him an email, somehow explaining that we were already there and now home, and thanks....but now I think he can just see it on Twitter and wonder.

Booo....fire.

Currently my lab is exchanging emails about poaching a new fire start up near Redding. Since Calculus is over, that means I'm on the list to go. When I read the email about the new start, I got that old familiar feeling of having this awesome summer, with plans (although the only plan I had was to run 8 miles tomorrow) and then getting a fire call. I have to say, I must have made the right decision to resign because I've been getting that disappointed feeling when fire calls come up for quite awhile now.

I was just realizing that I'm only two hours away from the parent winery of my favorite winery! I had this awesome idea that now that it's summer, I could go out there and get some of my favorite wines! Or, I could just go to a fire....

Strangely enough, it was this winery that got us a fire call a couple years ago. That's what happens you know. You don't get any fires until you make plans. Well, I had just joined Quady Underground, where I would get two bottles of wine every other month shipped to my house. Of course you have to have an adult 21 and older sign for the box and it has to be at your house. You can't have it delivered to the neighbor's house.

So when I finally got back from the fire I had to drive up to the winery in Oregon to pick up my box that had gone to Montague and back.

Meh. Oh Palomino Fino...I love you. But you must wait for another day. My running shoes are sulking in the corner as they face the strong likelihood of being stood up for our 8 miler tomorrow. Grr,

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

Since it's my first summer vacation in 9 years, I'll fill you in on what I've been up to so far. My summer vacation officially started on the 4th of July, since my 5 week Calculus class had just ended. My friend Debbie was getting married July 4th in Petoskey, MI., so I flew up to be there. One of the big reasons I quit my job to move on to something else was my lack of time for family and friends, and I felt I was missing out on some important things in life. So I wasn't going to miss Debbie's wedding.

It took me long enough to book my hotels that the only thing left in this resort town on a holiday weekend was the king jacuzzi suite. Bummer.

Yep, that's a jetted jacuzzi tub, just for little ol' me. There was a kitchen with a full size refrigerator, a stove, sink, dishwasher, fireplace, living room, patio. It was larger than my apartment. Seriously. Not exaggerating.

The view from my fourth floor balcony:

Yep, my summer vacation was off to a rough start.

Debbie's wedding was held at a beautiful location on the water in downtown Petoskey.

The wedding was beautiful, the bride was beautiful, the groom was handsome, there was an over-abundance of food, and of course, there were fireworks.

The next day I roamed around Petoskey and did a little shopping. I had ice cream twice that day because apparently that's what summer vacation is for. It was a slow day as I was desperately jet lagged and apparently pulling from the wrong carafe of coffee in the breakfast room. I have no idea how many cups of decaf I had before I figured that one out.

The morning after that I had coffee on my balcony to this gorgeous view:

I went for a run and sat in my personal jacuzzi. Then I traveled further  south to Traverse City to spend a few days. I posted about Sleeping Bear Dunes and the insane asylum, but here's a couple more photos from the dunes.

There was a scenic drive through the park as well (it's a National Park).

Here would be Lake Michigan.

This sign here......

With all these brilliant people below..... I was tempted, but I was already hungry. Going down there on an empty stomach could've spelled disaster for me.

But here I am, up above all that nonsense. And close enough to the car to make a beeline for some food.

The next day I went out exploring lighthouses. This one is out on the Old Mission Peninsula.

Of course I had to stop by Bowers Harbor. You'd have to ask my grandmother if there's any relation, but I'm thinking I would've known by now.

Yeah, I'm famous. No autographs please.

Here it is, good ol' Bowers Harbor.

And then these photos are taken on the west side of the Peninsula, south of Bowers Harbor. 

After seeking out (and eventually finding) lunch, I headed over to the next peninsula (Leelanau) to see the other lighthouse.

Then I went to the Northern Michigan Asylum for the Insane for dinner.... but you'll have to scroll down for the story on that one.

The next day was rainy so I went downtown to do more shopping. I managed to stay mostly dry.

Then the next day I had to drive back down to Grand Rapids, turn in my rental car and fly home. I'm not sure I ever adjusted to Michigan time, but I've been napping all day in between running errands and accomplishing tasks on my list. Tomorrow I have to head to the lab and get all ready to be called out onto fires to do research work. My house still isn't clean but I did manage to file away the big stack of papers that has been taking over my breakfast table since the beginning of the semester. We'll see what sort of accomplishments I can muster up tomorrow.

A Meal at the Asylum

Being the adventurous sort, tonight I moseyed over to the nearest insane asylum for dinner. I missed that part somehow. I had a great day of exploring lighthouses, ate at a fantastic Mexican place for lunch, laid out by the pool, took a nap...you know, what normal people do for summer vacation. Well I haven't had a summer vacation in 9 years, so I'm living it up. So an insane asylum was a must-do.

The guidebook in the hotel actually did say that it used to be an insane asylum (Northern Michigan's Asylum For The Insane), but I guess I missed that. I was starving (as usual) and in dire need of food. If I wait too long to get food, it turns into a desperate situation in which anything goes. I am most open minded when I am left with no choice.

What I did read in the guidebook was that The Village at Grand Traverse Commons is "A lively, bustling village of restaurants, wineries, brew pubs and retail shops." Sweet, I'm in. I changed out of my swim suit and into some shorts and followed my ever so annoying Garmin Nuvi to The Village. (Garmin Nuvi, when asked about where I should eat lunch today, responded "Treat Your Feet." And when I asked it for coffee I ended up at the counter of a diner asking for a to-go cup. We're learning each other's languages.) It somehow got me to The Village where I received a few stares as I pulled up. Look people, I don't belong here, I'm just visiting. 

I stepped out of my rental car and was suddenly both shocked and subdued. Probably a lot like when people here got electroshock treatment. It was very quiet, even though there were plenty of cars. I stared at the looming asylum in front of me and decided to first check out the restaurants across the parking lot. I'm adventurous, but the ambiance was fairly spooky. Like patients were still roaming the grounds and that I should not be there. The restaurants across the lot were closed with the exception of a wine bar, and I could not fathom alcohol without a decent amount of food at that moment. I crept closer to the asylum.

It's been re-done, I'll give it that. But it was so incredibly silent that I wondered if all those cars were abandoned and when I walked in the building it would be silent with people staggering around the halls or if they'd be slamming their heads against walls screaming. It was eerie. I walked in and down a short flight of stairs into a basement type place. The shops inside were all closed up, even though the building was open until 9 pm and it was only 6 pm. I passed by an open restaurant and wandered down the silent halls to see what else I could find. Historical photos and descriptions lined the hall describing the nurses and medical treatments that went on. I almost left but I wasn't sure I could handle driving around anymore on an empty stomach. I decided to try my luck with the restaurant.

It was a high-end Italian place (Pepeneros) and I sat at the bar that looks into the kitchen. I started with a Caprice Salad (sp?) and a glass of dry Riesling. It came with some amazing bread! So perfectly crisp and flavorful. Then came my Veal Scallopini with a mushroom marsala sauce, potatoes and spinach, all perfectly arranged on my plate. It was amazing.

Then I had that moment. I had it in Italy. One place more stronger than the other, but I can honestly say I've never had it in the US before. And strangely enough, now all three instances have been with Italian food, albeit high-end Italian food. I don't know if you've ever had the experience, but you put the bite in your mouth and slowly your world comes to a stop. By the time the plate is cleared, time has absolutely halted and you've got a silly grin on your face. The chef was pleased.

This was deserving of dessert. I've done this before...in Rome. And apparently it attracts a good deal of attention. I envision it much like the old Herbal Essence commercials where the woman is in ecstasy over her shampoo and another girl in the salon says "I'll have what she's having". In Rome, my waiter who was somewhat rude and indifferent to me stopped mid-walk while I was enjoying a tiramisu  flavored gelato, and smiled. Asked me something about whether I was enjoying my dessert. I thought maybe it was something of a food coma mixed with the carafe of wine he had set in front of me, compounded by the fact that I was indeed in Rome.

Apparently not. As I read over the dessert menu, I heard the chef say "I recommend the panni cotti". I asked if he would order espresso with it. He said no, and then conferred with the woman who worked there and she said the Moscato goes best with it. I said I'd take it.

The waiter slid the Moscato across the bar to me and I gave it a taste. Apparently the chef was watching because he said to me "That's good". I smiled, I loved it.

Then came the panni cotti, which in all honesty I had no idea what it was...but hey, I was also eating in the basement off what used to be an insane asylum. It was something like flan. Like a custard formed in a little ramekin, orange flavored with grated orange peel and Grand Marnier on top. I took a bite. It was so amazing. I scooped up some of the Grand Marnier with the next bite and looked up to see the woman working there watching me. She laughed, "I'm not staring, I just love to see that first bite". I was having that moment.

A few seats down from me sat a man waiting for his to-go order. As I finished my dessert, slowly and thoughtfully, trying to not grin like a silly girl who maybe belonged in this building, the man received his order and got up to leave. He leaned over my shoulder and said "I enjoyed watching you eat that probably as much as you enjoyed eating it."

Huh. Maybe I wear my emotions on my sleeve when it comes to food. Food is important to me. I get a little crazy around it, and I certainly go crazy when I'm low on calories.

After paying the tab and thanking the chef for the amazing meal, I walked the grounds of the asylum and took photos. It's amazing what you discover when you're brave enough to go with the strange and uncomfortable.