Thursday, December 04, 2003
"Wrong Way" VDH Update--Into the Roaring Forties: VDH has now crossed 40 degrees South, on his way to Cape Horn:
"I’m down in the forties now. As if by chance, I saw my first albatross yesterday. Seeing these birds fly is always magical. I can still remember the first I saw on Let’s Go during my first circumnavigation in 86. I watched it for quite a while. Even today, I still don’t understand how they manage to fight against the wind without flapping their wings... "
Forty degrees South marks the beginning of the Roaring Forties, the description the old clipper ship sailors gave to this stormy region of the globe. The Forties will not truly Roar at their worst until VDH rounds Cape Horn and exposes himself and Adrien to the full fury of the Southern Ocean, where there are no land masses to knock down the waves or dissipate the storm systems that parade across the sea with deadly regularity. And VDH is already starting to feel the shadow of the Horn:
"Even if this is my tenth time, I still feel a little apprehension. It’s a place you can’t just dismiss. Beyond that point, you know you’ll be getting into low-pressure areas, with wind and difficulties to deal with. The Andes range protects us a little on this side of the South American continent. Once the Horn has been rounded, the work really begins. On the Vendée Globe, it’s a point of deliverance, but in the opposite direction, it’s really the start of the round the world 'backwards' trip. So there has to be a little stress."
At least VDH has a 5-day lead over the existing record....
The Horn Last Time Around: "Oh Mama, it's about to begin......"
"I’m down in the forties now. As if by chance, I saw my first albatross yesterday. Seeing these birds fly is always magical. I can still remember the first I saw on Let’s Go during my first circumnavigation in 86. I watched it for quite a while. Even today, I still don’t understand how they manage to fight against the wind without flapping their wings... "
Forty degrees South marks the beginning of the Roaring Forties, the description the old clipper ship sailors gave to this stormy region of the globe. The Forties will not truly Roar at their worst until VDH rounds Cape Horn and exposes himself and Adrien to the full fury of the Southern Ocean, where there are no land masses to knock down the waves or dissipate the storm systems that parade across the sea with deadly regularity. And VDH is already starting to feel the shadow of the Horn:
"Even if this is my tenth time, I still feel a little apprehension. It’s a place you can’t just dismiss. Beyond that point, you know you’ll be getting into low-pressure areas, with wind and difficulties to deal with. The Andes range protects us a little on this side of the South American continent. Once the Horn has been rounded, the work really begins. On the Vendée Globe, it’s a point of deliverance, but in the opposite direction, it’s really the start of the round the world 'backwards' trip. So there has to be a little stress."
At least VDH has a 5-day lead over the existing record....
The Horn Last Time Around: "Oh Mama, it's about to begin......"
Virtual Everest--Go To The Summit Without A Pulmonary Embolism: Ever wondered what the view from Everest is like? Click here for a very cool 360 degree panorama of what the world looks like from the top of the world (takes a bit to load, then just left click and drag to rotate the image). The image was created by Roderick Mackenzie in 1989. Almost as interesting is the brief interview with McKenzie that accompanies the panorama:
"Why did I climb Everest?
I have a theory that people climb for the smell of it. Air at very high altitude smells completely different to lower altitudes. People become addicted to this smell and need more and more to get less and less of it. This is what makes them get higher.
What did I think of on the summit?
When I reached the south summit I was suffering from a lack of Spanish Olives. I was most preoccupied with thoughts of the tin of olives sitting in my tent at base camp. The preoccupation was the result of a very intense dream about olives which was interrupted by the alarm summoning me to our summit attempt. When I reached the south summit the view to the main summit interested me from a mountaineering point of view and all dreamings of olives were banished from my head.
On the summit I felt a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. Our only comments to each other after initial congratulations were about the fact that the summit is precisely half way. It seemed to me that the curvature of the earth was apparent, and I spent some time trying to think of a means to test if this was a real observation or an illusion. In the end I decided it was an illusion, but it was a strong illusion. Overall my main feeling was of surprise."
Uhh, nice take, dude. Sorry about the olives.....
"Why did I climb Everest?
I have a theory that people climb for the smell of it. Air at very high altitude smells completely different to lower altitudes. People become addicted to this smell and need more and more to get less and less of it. This is what makes them get higher.
What did I think of on the summit?
When I reached the south summit I was suffering from a lack of Spanish Olives. I was most preoccupied with thoughts of the tin of olives sitting in my tent at base camp. The preoccupation was the result of a very intense dream about olives which was interrupted by the alarm summoning me to our summit attempt. When I reached the south summit the view to the main summit interested me from a mountaineering point of view and all dreamings of olives were banished from my head.
On the summit I felt a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. Our only comments to each other after initial congratulations were about the fact that the summit is precisely half way. It seemed to me that the curvature of the earth was apparent, and I spent some time trying to think of a means to test if this was a real observation or an illusion. In the end I decided it was an illusion, but it was a strong illusion. Overall my main feeling was of surprise."
Uhh, nice take, dude. Sorry about the olives.....
Annals of Achievement--So Close, But No Cigar...Yet: The 10 surfer boys shooting for the sailing speed record over at the French Trench in Stes. Maries de la Mer in the South of France put up some huge numbers yesterday--and Irishman Finian Maynard nailed a new windsurfing speed record of 46.24 knots (the French record and the Dutch record were also broken). Winds started the day at 35-40 knots and built until it was honking a full 40-42 knots down the flat water course. The only disappointment was that Maynard missed the outright sail speed record--46.54 knots, set by "Yellow Pages Endeavour" in 1993--by just 3/10ths of a knot. The windsurfers are just a few wind gusts away from stealing this title back from the sailors. Stay tuned....
Flying Finian: "Man, that Guinness better be waiting for me when I get in...."
Flying Finian: "Man, that Guinness better be waiting for me when I get in...."
Wednesday, December 03, 2003
Lost Wetass Hall of Fame--Gertrude Ederle: Who? Gertrude Ederle, first woman to swim the English Channel? Ok, I admit I never heard of Gertie either. But she died last week at the age of 98, so she deserves some respect. Particularly since back in her day--the 1920s, if you can believe it--she was a superstar. Our Gertrude was quite the fish. In 1924 she won a gold medal at the Paris Olympics. But it wasn't until 2 years later, when she swam from Cape Gris-Nez, France to Kingsdown, England in 14 and half hours, that she became a Lady Lindbergh. Ederle not only became the first woman to swim the Channel, she did it--lubed up with vaseline and olive oil--through stinging jellyfish, 15-foot waves and fast currents. She actually had to cover about 35 miles, and still she beat the existing man-set record by two hours, in part because she refused to use the ladies' stroke of the day--the breast stroke--and struck out using the shockingly mannish crawl. By her count she made 21,700 strokes to get the job done. When she was through, President Calvin Coolidge called her "America's Best Girl" and she went home to a ticker tape parade watched by 2 million. Nice going, Gertrude. We'll miss you...well, if we actually knew you, we would.
Unexpected Pre-Swim Problem #1: "Enough grease already. This dog is about to have my ass for lunch!"
Unexpected Pre-Swim Problem #1: "Enough grease already. This dog is about to have my ass for lunch!"
Annals of Adventure--White Death: The equation is simple: more people are heading to the mountains and to the backcountry so more people are suffering death by avalanche (same thing with the shark attack mania of recent years: sharks aren't getting hungrier, there are simply more people in the water (and a voracious media to broadcast every, umm, shred of detail)). That's one of the conclusions of an LA Times story that takes you moment by moment through the avalanche experience of a group of skiers in Canada's British Columbia as it crunches avalanche numbers:
"In the 1950s, fewer than five people a year died in U.S. avalanches. Over the past half a decade, that average has risen dramatically, to 30 deaths a year. Internationally, there were 143 avalanche fatalities last year. Many trace the increase to new technologies that make it easier to pursue challenging peaks. "Changes in ski design, snowshoes and, particularly, snowmobiles let people climb stuff that couldn't be touched years ago," says Knox Williams, director of the Colorado Avalanche Information Center. "Now people can expose themselves to more risk."
The mounting death toll may also be driven by new attitudes about risk. Extreme sports have become part of mainstream America's recreational vocabulary. From 1985 to 1990, avalanches killed only three snowmobile riders in the U.S. In the last five years, 79 snowmobilers died in snowslides, as technology and bravado have pushed humans deeper into nature's maw. And pros are not exempt. In 1999, an avalanche in Tibet killed Alex Lowe, one of the nation's savviest climbers."
Putting aside the fact that TWC has a hard time getting worked up about snowmobile fatalities (are they God's way of showing that He doesn't like loud, polluting machines?), these numbers are as they should be. New technologies, like an avalanche airbag system (you fire it off when you are caught in a slide and balloons will help keep you on the surface of the snow), can help reduce fatalities. But the mountains are mountains because they are remote, merciless and unpredictable. And extreme sports are interesting, and addicting, because there is risk. There's no accomplishment, no sense of achievement, when nothing is on the line. So don't head out to the backcountry, or start bragging at your Christmas party about the helicopter ski trip you are about to take, if you think it is just like any other recreational sport. It's not. You could end up buried in tons of snow. And if you do you had better act--or be rescued--quickly. From the story: "Studies show that if a victim is uncovered within 15 minutes of burial, he or she has a 92% chance of survival. After 35 minutes, however, the odds drop to 30%. After a little more than two hours, only 3% of avalanche victims are found alive." Read the whole thing. It's worth the time......
"Holy shit, Harry! This wasn't in the brochure...."
(Photo: National Snow and Ice Data Center)
"In the 1950s, fewer than five people a year died in U.S. avalanches. Over the past half a decade, that average has risen dramatically, to 30 deaths a year. Internationally, there were 143 avalanche fatalities last year. Many trace the increase to new technologies that make it easier to pursue challenging peaks. "Changes in ski design, snowshoes and, particularly, snowmobiles let people climb stuff that couldn't be touched years ago," says Knox Williams, director of the Colorado Avalanche Information Center. "Now people can expose themselves to more risk."
The mounting death toll may also be driven by new attitudes about risk. Extreme sports have become part of mainstream America's recreational vocabulary. From 1985 to 1990, avalanches killed only three snowmobile riders in the U.S. In the last five years, 79 snowmobilers died in snowslides, as technology and bravado have pushed humans deeper into nature's maw. And pros are not exempt. In 1999, an avalanche in Tibet killed Alex Lowe, one of the nation's savviest climbers."
Putting aside the fact that TWC has a hard time getting worked up about snowmobile fatalities (are they God's way of showing that He doesn't like loud, polluting machines?), these numbers are as they should be. New technologies, like an avalanche airbag system (you fire it off when you are caught in a slide and balloons will help keep you on the surface of the snow), can help reduce fatalities. But the mountains are mountains because they are remote, merciless and unpredictable. And extreme sports are interesting, and addicting, because there is risk. There's no accomplishment, no sense of achievement, when nothing is on the line. So don't head out to the backcountry, or start bragging at your Christmas party about the helicopter ski trip you are about to take, if you think it is just like any other recreational sport. It's not. You could end up buried in tons of snow. And if you do you had better act--or be rescued--quickly. From the story: "Studies show that if a victim is uncovered within 15 minutes of burial, he or she has a 92% chance of survival. After 35 minutes, however, the odds drop to 30%. After a little more than two hours, only 3% of avalanche victims are found alive." Read the whole thing. It's worth the time......
"Holy shit, Harry! This wasn't in the brochure...."
(Photo: National Snow and Ice Data Center)
Tuesday, December 02, 2003
Annals of Investigation--Smokey's A Couch Potato: Bears may resent human intrusion into their habitat, but living among humans makes for a pretty cushy ursine existence. A recent study (second item) conducted by the Journal of Zoology compared black bears that live in wilderness areas to black bears that live near urban areas. The findings: urban bears are getting fat and lazy because it's so easy for them to find food. Sure, every once in a while an urban bear makes the mistake of eating a dog or mauling someone mowing the lawn, and unholy hell ensues, with lots of shooting. But on the whole living around homo sapiens means a practically unlimited smorgasbord of human garbage. The abundance of vittles means the bears do less work to find more calories, so they are about 30 percent fatter than their hungrier wilderness bear-brothers and get to laze around an extra 5 hours or so a day. What will PETA have to say about this? Will there be bear class action suits against McDonalds?
"You mean I gotta work for my dinner while those bastards in town eat Big Macs and sit around watching cable?!"
"You mean I gotta work for my dinner while those bastards in town eat Big Macs and sit around watching cable?!"
Monday, December 01, 2003
"Right Way" Joyon Update--Into The South: Francis Joyon is kicking ass, as he attempts to break the solo, non-stop round-the-world (RTW) record in his trimaran IDEC. Today he will cross the Equator, going from the northern hemisphere to the southern hemisphere in just 9 days. That's faster than IDEC--then Sport Elec--did it in 1997, when she sailed with a full crew and set the outright RTW record. It's also 4 days quicker than Michel Desjoyeaux when he set the current non-stop solo record of 93 days (in a monohull) in 2001. Joyon now has to work his way around the South Atlantic High, a big bubble of light air that parks in the middle of the South Atlantic, before getting down into the Roaring Forties and the Southern Ocean. That's where this record attempt is going to get really hairy......
"This is a piece of cake. Hmmm, that reminds me. I wonder where I stowed the croissant......"
"This is a piece of cake. Hmmm, that reminds me. I wonder where I stowed the croissant......"
Woodvale Atlantic Row Update--Holiday Shoppe Home for the Holidays: A Kiwi team paddled their way across the finish line in Barbados over the weekend, to set a new record for the race of 40 days, 5 hours and 31 minutes (and beating the old record by about 21 hours). It almost didn't happen. As Kevin Biggar and James Fitzgerald closed on Barbados, after rowing all the way from the Canary Islands, Holiday Shoppe Challenge was capsized by a wave when their steering rudder jammed and they got rolled by a wave. The capsize tossed the two rowers into the sea, and neither was wearing a harness. Luckily, they were not separated from the boat, which rolled back upright as it was designed to do. A second Kiwi team also crossed the finish ahead of the previous race record (what do they feed those guys Down Under?), and the rest of the rowing teams will dribble in on the coming week. This is the first transatlantic rowing race I have ever paid any attention to and I have to say it was pretty damn boring. There's just not that much to recommend the sport: no great speeds, no horrific weather (at least in the tropical Atlantic in November), and no real drama. That's not to say that it's not a great achievement for the rowers, and it's certainly gripping for the families and close supporters of the people out there. But it's all about endurance, determination, suffering, blah, blah, blah. It's much more interesting to follow a guy like Jim Shekhdar, who in attempting to row the Southern Ocean was thinking big and thinking crazy.....
Nice job, guys. Can I get back to my nap now?
(Photo: Challenge Business)
Nice job, guys. Can I get back to my nap now?
(Photo: Challenge Business)
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