Ravens!

Ravens are the coolest birds. Well, on second thought, Ravens are the coolest birds that can't swim (Creatures that can dominate land, air, and sea win every time.). But once you get over the stigma of a Raven you will probably sit and watch in awe for hours. At least that's what I do.

Ravens are one of the most intelligent birds. They have been taught to speak. Ravens have been seen to attack nest in teams, dive bomb mountain goats to scare them into falling, ignore loud noises such as air horns but head towards gun shots, and scavenge the top of Old Rag mountain all in the name of an easy meal.

So if you find yourself watching these intellectual avians on the wind racked summit of Old Rag what do you think they do? They show off! They glisten in the sun as they twirl in the updrafts, they pick up sticks only to drop them so they can chase them down and catch them again! I have watched jealously as the ravens swoop within inches of jagged granite boulders and even fly upside down nearly touching feet with another right side up Raven flying parallel and above them.




Just go sit and watch them awhile, I promise it will be better than the hike.

Falcons!

Peregrine Falcons can dive at 200 mph. They tuck their wings for aerodynamics and hit their unsuspecting prey (usually a smaller bird) from above. They often literally knock the life out of it, if they don't grab it at the same time they hit it they just pluck it out of the air as it falls.

Falcons are also a huge conservation success story. Due to DDT, in the years from 1950 to 64 reproduction nearly ceased and in 64 none were known to exist east of the Mississippi (except in the arctic). Their eggs were extremely fragile and had to be raised in captivity in order to survive. Because of the inaccessibility of their nests, rock climbers were some of the primary rescuers of the fragile species on the verge of extinction. Climbers scaled cliffs as big as Yosemite's Half Dome in the name (excuse) of conservation and activism. Since then the species has seen an incredible comeback and in Virginia the raptor is no longer on the endangered list.

Although the Falcons' numbers have rebounded they have not returned to their original habitat(choosing the city lights instead), so when we see them out it is really exciting. While out climbing on Old Rag today we saw two headed south. "That was cool" we thought, then we saw another, and another. Pretty soon we realized that we were seeing a migration! At one point we counted more than one hundred Falcons high above. Awesome!


The falcons are high up and to the left (the ones that look like gnats), the bigger bird in the picture is a Turkey Vulture. (click to blow the pic up)



Saw Box Turtle with an orange face too.

Perfect Weather

When the weather, the view, and the climbing trip go perfect it feels like this!




Any weather is great for watching a immature Black Snake climb around in a bush. If it gets just a bit colder and you decide to put your hand out in front of one of these friendly snakes the snake might just crawl on and enjoy a bit of your warmth sharing.




It might be a little scary but you gotta take a look at the view when rappelling off these cliffs.




Just a little more water in the center has managed to keep the Hay-scented Ferns alive a few days longer while those around the perimeter have called it a season and faded to yellow.

Picture This

The summer haze has burned off, and the blurred lines of the blue ridge have become cool and crisp like the evening air. We are headed to the canyon laden with ropes, rappelling equipment, and wet-suits for the fall's cooling water. A bottle of pink Champagne is hidden in the dry bag for a lunchtime toast to the bride to be. It's a steep section of trail and we notice some dark purple vine-ripened grapes contrasting against the still lush green of the forest. We take a moment to teach the women of the bridal party from Florida about the wild grapes and pluck a few clusters for them to taste for the first time in their lives. The grapes are small, full of seeds, and thick skinned but also sweet and tasty. At the top of the hill there is a fantastic view of the many shades of clear blue mountains to the north. Somehow we are much more awestruck by the brilliant Maple just to the side of the view. It is the only tree to have noticed it is now fall and has adorned itself in a complete scarlet red against the dominance of the green and the peaks of blue. It will make a stunning picture, and as the equally beautiful women we are guiding line up in front of the view, I fumble for my trusty GE digital point and shot and wonder, "How did I get this job?" They are still holding clusters of grapes in their hands and they give me the affirmative that it's cool for them to end up on the blog for your (the blog readers) viewing pleasure. I compose the picture and the screen reads "battery exhausted."

Sorry folks, I snapped one with their waterproof disposable and I wish you could have seen it. The rest of the day was a great and memorable canyoneering bachelorette party in the heart of Shenandoah.



This picture is unrelated but still beautiful. It's a Buckeye butterfly we recently saw on a separate hike, they are usually not found north of North Carolina.

Falling

Sometimes I love this feeling, right now I'm terrified. There's no way to stop the impact. I am falling, I will land defenseless and prone, on my back, but this thought hasn't registered yet. Right now I'm trying to locate the crashing noise, trying to understand why I am falling, and I'm terrified.

It was a great day of climbing that started on a boat at 7am with the fog rising off the warm water. The plethora of rocks overhanging blue water looked smooth, soft and doughy in the morning light.

We came to the heart of West Virginia to climb those rocks, and that's what we did, all day. Climbing high above the water is scary. Hit right and it's like a big pillow, hit wrong and it hurts. The water can produce pains like needles, stings like wasps, bruises, soreness, headaches. But it's a risk worth taking. Climbing over water is amazingly pure, simple and fun. This kind of climbing strips everything else away until there is only your action and the immediate consequence of that action.

You come to a blank spot in the rock, a sheer wall with a big hold above and nothing positive in between, no holds, except the one up there. You get your feet high and that hold becomes all you can see. Everything disappears except focus, blank, like the wall rushing past. For a moment you touch nothing, you are just reaching for that hold with every ounce of your being. Your fingers wrap the hold.
The fingers slip off. The rocks are rushing in reverse, it's an enjoyable feeling, the falling. You push your stomach out of your throat and suck down a last deep breath before impact. The smack is a shock to the system and it hurts for a second before it is enveloped, as you are, by the smooth, cool refreshment of the water around you. Right now it feels spectacular. You are floating in this anti-gravity world, you can move effortlessly in any direction. You choose up, and swim for the sun. Or...

Your fingers grip that hold and your focus remains singular. The momentum of your body changes from upward to outward. Your body is stretching away from the wall. You try to keep your core tight, to fight the forces ripping you from the wall, the gravity is stretching your shoulders, your elbows to their extension, wrist elongate, even your fingers begin to unwrap. But the fingers hold, they did what you told them and everything else follows suit. Wrist, arms, elbows, shoulders, core, even your feet snap back and can now press against the blank section of rock below. You did it! The feeling courses back up from the toes, through your veins and out of your mouth in the form of a joyous yell. Wow, what a sport! A couple more moves high over the water bring you to a ledge and you turn to face the view. It's beautiful. You take a look and a breath, and jump.

We swam a lot. We climbed a lot. We tied a rope to the boat and tried to surf a piece of driftwood but it didn't work. Instead we watched the light reflected off the ripples as it danced on the underside of a large overhanging rock. It was a great day and we followed it up with a huge meal before deciding where to camp.
In the morning we would be meeting another friend for the day, but not till 10 so we decided to back-country camp, try to catch the sunset, and get a climb in at first light.

Maybe we were tired or maybe the hike was just longer than we expected but we missed the sunset. Sans headlamp and in the last dimming light of the day I threw up the hammock in the one good spot where we had chosen to camp. Camp was level and my climbing partner Bryan would be sleeping on the ground but the only spot for the hammock was right next to the cliff. Not the kind of cliff with nothing but air till the bottom, like we had been climbing earlier, but the kind with lots of loose jagged rocks on extremely steep hillside where the only thing to stop a bouncing tumbling fall through the daggers would be the trees. The trees a body might end up wrapped around, the trees looked healthy, they would hold you. I was concerned about the fall potential but I have to say, I'm pretty good at setting up and sleeping in a hammock. It's something I've safely done off a cliff numerous times (including the nuttin but air till the bottom kind). Not to mention the fact that of the past 30 nights, probably 25 of those I have slept in a hammock. The job was done and I collapsed exhausted into the anticipated hammock bliss. And then I was terrified.

In milliseconds I realized I was falling and within several more I had located the source of the horrible cracking, splintering sound. The sound was a tree, and it was falling directly towards me. In the waning light I had tied off to a widow-maker. I had mistakenly tied off to the dead tree and I would now die as the Old Rag community pastor had. An eight inch wide tree was rushing, falling, towards my head. So there I was, with the jagged talus cliff to my side, posed to relax in my hammock, pursued by a large tree, falling to my death. Not, the kind of falling I like.

I tried to midair hover to the non-cliff side and never noticed the impact with the ground. It must have been some sort of butt-walk-crab-walk combo which narrowly saved my life. The tree crashed down to my side. Rolling off the hammock with my face in the dirt I said "thank you Jesus" and proceeded with the strange reaction I sometimes have to these situations. I laughed uncontrollably.

I hope you never have to employ the the butt-crab-walk combo but I guess it takes a little experiential learning to get these type of things right. Bryan and I had another hardy laugh, a super climb in the morning, and a great weekend to follow!


The view from the cliff top the following morning.

"They Just Want to Have Fun"

-Cyndi Lauper



Here's a couple quick shots of last week before we take to the trail again.

Last Week in Pictures

"Your imagination is your preview of life's coming attractions" -Albert Einstein





The four above pics are from a quick trip to the New River WV (dog off leash is a no go in Shen, sandstone, etc...)I just had to put them up.


Now for the good times in the 'Doah
















Yes, that is a deer standing on its hind legs eating wild apples... Only in Shenandoah!

Out the door and looking forward to another great week.

Happy Birthday BSA

Today marks the Centennial birthday of the Boy Scouts of America! My little bro is at the national scout jamboree and I have to admit I'm a little jealous. Yes, in the last several days I have been rock-climbing in several states, cliff jumping, swimming, swimming, swimming and getting paid for it. And I guess in the next couple days I will be doing the same with the addition of zip-lining from the top of one high peak to another, watching the sun rise and set from Shenandoah's highest points and in general loving life. But scouts gave me my start! Where else can a bunch of boys with abnormal tics in their heads (such as myself) start out with awkward unproportionate feet and dubious intentions and come away strong men with their heads screwed on straight. It's a great organization with which we are very proud to have run many high adventure trips.

It's been a decade since I received my Eagle but the Scout Oath, Law, and Motto are still as fresh as the memories of those great trips. So congrats to the BSA, now one hundred years strong! I can't wait to see my bro get Eagle, and I'm out the door for another week long trip.

The Boys of Summer

The cool night gives way to to the sun's first rays, and soon we would be shedding layers and swimming.

A night out in the Dolly Sods high country during the hottest part of the year brings the shivers like it brings the memories. The boys of this summer will remember the shooting stars over the white rocks as they waited for their turn on the moonlit free-hanging rappel. They will remember holding the six foot Blacksnake and how she didn't strike at us as we gently passed her around the circle giving her no reason to be afraid. Memories of the canyoning, climbing and jumping into deep pools will rank right up there with the sight of the sunrise over the morning fog. Decisions and friends made will be thought of, and this summer will not be easily forgotten.








Yes, that is the zip-line you've always dreamed of. We had that dream too!

It's Hot Out!

We've been in the water, it's much cooler there.