Gorgeous

While my friends were most excited about going to Buenos Aires (from here on known as BA), I was more excited about Bariloche, a Northern Patagonia town in the lake district of Argentina, and Mendoza, in the wine country of Argentina, located at the foot of the Argentine side of the Andes.

Neither disappointed. Mendoza looked and felt remarkably like home, with its dry climate, craggy mountains, and lack of vegetation (other than grape vines, of course).

We took the opportunity to go white water rafting on the Rio Mendoza while we were there. And by white water rafting, I really mean brown water. Because the water was moving so fast, it was stirring up all the sediment washed off the slopes of nearby mountains, making the water brown. And we're talking about a lot of sediment in this water--I was wiping brown grit off my face for the rest of the day. But it was totally worth it to get a fast river with non-stop rapids.

Bariloche was pretty awesome also. Cold and super windy, but gorgeous nonetheless. This photo was taken from the top of Cerro Otto, one of many "mountain" peaks in the region. (Mountain goes in quotes because as anyone who knows me well could tell you, I have pretty stringent standards for what I think should technically be considered a mountain, and Cerro Otto definitely falls short. It was still pretty though.)

I should point out that we actually went to the top of Cerro Otto twice. The first day we climbed to the top (because the gondola to the top wasn't running yet), but it was overcast and yes, snowing, so none of my pictures turned out that well. We had no intentions of going again, but when we awoke the next morning and found that the gondola had suddenly decided to run, we thought we'd try again to get some decent photos (and also to witness from above how ridiculously steep the previous day's trail to the top had been).

Forget switchbacks--this trail went straight up the side of the mountain!

Oh. One more thing about Bariloche. I'm convinced it's the hippy new-age capital of Patagonia. The Berkeley of Argentina, if you will. We saw Pilates studios and incense burners everywhere. And then we saw this guy, juggling/interpretive dancing in the street.

It reminds of me the first time I drove through Berkeley, and as I stopped at a red light at the corner of Ashby and College, a guy on a unicycle carrying rainbow streamers wheeled out into the intersection and did a little streamer/cycle dance until the light changed.

It's good to see that some things are universal.

Adventures in Hiking

This post is actually from last weekend, but I couldn't find the cord to download the photos onto my computer and thus it had to wait until now to be posted. Last Saturday, Josh and I, in desperate need of some nature, went for a hike in Tilden Regional Park. I had found a hike I wanted to do and wrote out the directions. However, within 3 minutes of starting out (and that's actually not an exaggeration) we had messed up the directions and got lost.

The upside of getting lost is that we stumbled upon San Pablo Reservoir (after scrambling down a really steep hill that may or may not have been private property. Ooops.), where we had ourselves a fabulous little picnic and rented a kayak for some afternoon paddling. The only downside is that we then had to scramble back up the really steep hill before we treated ourselves with much needed slurpies from the nearest 7-11. Overall, a damn good Saturday in the East Bay. (The rhyming, by the way, is totally intentional.)

Josh and Claire (Disclaimer: Josh wants to point out that everytime he has been photographically represented on my blog, it has been misleading. He does not generally sport the mountain man facial hair seen here. Nor does he usually sport the too-tight purple tank top we saw him in at the beginning of the summer.)

Yosemite--first the funny . . .

I went to Yosemite this past weekend. I've been putting off writing about it for my blog, because I was torn by quite the dilemma: should I highlight the funny and interesting bits, or talk about the profound and thoughtful moments?

But here's the beauty of the blog: I can do both. So here is version #1 of my weekend in Yosemite--with all that was funny and random and action-packed. Stay tuned for version #2. . .

My reasons for going to Yosemite were two: 1) get away from work and people and have a little time to sort some stuff out; and 2) climb Half-Dome. (More on this later.)

I spent Friday in Tuolumne Meadows (for those of you who are looking at that word and wondering how to pronounce it, I'm pretty sure it's something like Two-AH-loh-meh. I wasn't sure at first either). Tuolumne Meadows is the High Country of Yosemite, which means it looks a lot like home for me. In fact, it was probably a little too much like home, because it also came complete with tons of mosquitos in the woods and really intense sunlight. Meaning of course, that I spent the whole weekend covered in mosquito bites and completely sunburned. So now I have this awesome farmer tan that cuts right across my biceps (I'm secretly hoping it makes them look really jacked. Somehow I doubt it.) and these huge pink welts from where I couldn't stop scratching at the bites. Good times. But the meadows are beautiful, and have way less people than the valley.

Tuolumne Meadows

The valley. This leads me to day number 2, where my goal was to climb Half-Dome. Climbing Half-Dome, for those of you who don't know, involves a 17 mile round-trip hike, climbing some 4,000+ feet in elevation. And oh yeah, the last 900 feet or so aren't really hiking so much as they're pulling yourself up a nearly vertical granite rock face using some loosely anchored cables and an occasional plank of wood. You could call it a ladder of sorts, but I wouldn't. I'd call it scary.

Now you might be asking, what would possess someone to do this? Well, there's the bragging rights of being able to say you climbed Half-Dome. But for me, it was more about proving to myself that I could--I didn't really need to prove it to anyone else. You see, three years ago, my JVC roommates and I went to Yosemite, and several of them climbed Half-Dome. I did not. There was absolutely no way my out-of-shape ass was going to make it up that. I barely made it up Yosemite falls, which is equally steep and not nearly as long (or as scary). So I wanted to mark that I am much healthier than I was three years ago, and in much better shape.

And guess what? I am.

So here, quick style, are the highlights of Half-Dome:

--The loud Fresno hikers who apparently make the trek to the top of Half-Dome every year. This year they had Brie cheese, fried chicken and red wine (in little plastic wine glasses) to celebrate their ascent.

--The 10 Mennonite women (all wearing really ugly long-sleeved, ankle-length flowered dresses and white bonnets) who I ran into as they were hauling their way up the last bit to the top of Half-Dome.

--The San Jose girls who befriended me and got me up (and back down) the dome itself. Especially helpful was the girl who, when I stopped mid-way up and told her I thought I was going to throw up, informed me that that wasn't an option, because there were guys watching, and did I want them to think I was some little wussy girl?

--The two guys I hiked down with. I'll call them Big Talk and No Talk, because one wouldn't stop talking about how awesome he was, and the other--who had apparently pulled a groin muscle but didn't want to stop because of some guy-ego-competitive thing--never said a word. They were at least entertaining, and they made the end of the trip go faster.

--The twelve people who very helpfully informed that I was sunburned ("Yes, I know.") and then asked if I needed some sunscreen ("No, thanks, I've got some. But where were you yesterday when I could have used it?")

--And oh yeah, the view from the top: You could see all of Yosemite Valley and up and out the other side, as well the lush, green sprawl of the back country. It's convinced me that the next time I go to Yosemite, it'll be to get out of the valley, away from the tourists and back into the mountains.

View of Nevada Falls from the John Muir Trail

View of Half-Dome from Little Yosemite Valley


The next-to-last part of the Half-Dome ascent. This, ironically, is the not-so-steep part

The final ascent. Those little specks, by the way, are people. When I saw this, my inner mother screamed out that climbing this would rank as the stupidest thing I'd ever done. Of course, I did it anyway, but I at least thought twice about it.

Me and the view from the top.