Airman's cave. v1

First of all, I moved to Texas to do a Masters in Ocean Engineering at the University of Texas Austin. (HOOK 'EM!) So, this chapter of MaineMountainMen is from Austin.
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This morning, JP (a fellow engineering student) and I got up before dawn to head down to airman's cave. This cave is right in the middle of the Barton Creek greenbelt. For those non-Austin readers, it's only about 5 minutes from downtown.

First picture (above) is the approach, up the creek bed and to the left. It's been dry here for a while. Hot, too. The sun had just coming up around 7AM and it was already ~90 degrees F.

JP is excited that it's only 90° out.


I'm new to this whole caving thing (don't call it spelunking). You need knee pads, elbow pads, lights, helmet, and clothes that can get dirty for this one. It's about a kilometer of crawling on your stomach... sounds fun... right?



After suiting up, we were already sweaty and quite ready to get into the cave. Here's JP going in. Inside it's about 60°. Much nicer. Except...
for a heaping mat of daddy long legs. And I do mean heaping. They were perhaps in some mating school?

Here are the spiders just after the entrance to the cave. The dark mat further back in the picture is comprised of more spiders. See second photo below. The tunnel is only about 2.5 feet high, so we had to slide on our stomachs, hoping not to disturb the herd (by the way, what do you call a mass of spiders?)


Not long after passing what could have been the gauntlet, we arrived at the birth canal. This is a passage so narrow that you have to go through with BOTH arms out in front of you. I didn't have both arms out in front and I got stuck. After squirming around for 10 minutes or so and extricating myself, I decided perhaps a more novice cave would be better for starting off my caving career and I convinced JP we should go eat breakfast. Here's JP in a wider section of the "birth canal". (this cave is old hat for JP, he's been in pretty far before)
After turning around and making it past the spiders again, we snapped a parting shot and headed to Kerby Lane for biscuits and gravy.

Patagonia

I woke up late today, and thought, I'm in Patagonia: a day here without an adventure is a day wasted. I waited out the mid-day heat and left (walking) from an apartment on the edge of Coyhaique (Chile) to climb a nearby mountain. Even at 3PM it was 80° out. Photo one is the route. I need to figure out the name of the mountain, but it's in between the Makai, to the right, and a range they call El Divisidero behind on the left. The route starts on the right. It's mostly steep hiking up slides, but includes a 30' solo up nice rock and an 80' solo up grade 5 crumbly rock. Above that is mixed animal paths and exposed crumbly ridge. Decent was via rock slide and bush-wack on the east side. There are no real paths, except those made by sheep. Fortunately sheep take the good routes, unfortunately sheep are 3' tall.

60' up the crux, the rock in my right hand split in two and I realized that I was going to have to find another route down. That added an element of excitement to things.
Looking back at the route and crux:


The summit was beautiful, but time there was short as I needed find a safe decent route. I opted for a rock slide that worked well. The bushwack below the slide was brutal. In Chile, they have these stiff burrs that really get you, and they're everywhere.
Summit shot:
The climb was great. Made it back around 8:30 (still light out). Here's some cool lichen I saw on the way down. I've never seen it before (in US or here in Chile), but there are so many lichen species, chances are slim that it's new. If you know what species it is, let me know.
Also, check out www.seascapemodeling.org/patagonia for more pictures from my trip down here. I'm working near the Melimoyu Volcano for the Austral Summer as the scientist in residence for the Melimoyu Ecosystem Research Institute.

Big a$$ lobster

I did a bit of diving this summer, and down in Rockport, MA, I came across this beast.

My dive light is about 3'' in diameter and 7'' long.
I think the little guy on the left (which is just a bit smaller than one you'd find on your dinner plate) is picking the wrong fight.

after a long break

Only a brief instant in geological time, but a few months in reality, and an eternity in internet time. Whatever your timescale of choice, we're back.

Here's a picture of Tanaya lake in Tuolomne meadows, in Yosemite:
I was here at the end of August to visit Matt, who's working search and rescue out there. Sweet gig.

From Tuolomne National Park

Ice Diving!

Even though it feels like summer, it's technically not even spring, yet. Last month, before the ice on Sebago Lake dissappeared, I cut a big hole with a chainsaw and jumped in for a scuba dive:

(picture above: Getting ready)


This is what it looked like down below:

Tree stump


Touching an airbubble of mine that coagulated at the water-ice interface


Looking up through the hole

cotopaxi 4/4

At 8.30 we reached the top. My guide dropped to his knees and prayed for our safety. The wind was strong and visibility was less than five yards. The feeling of reaching the top was surreal. The climb had been tough, and I was glad we overcame being so close to a forced decision to turn back.
Was I excited? Definitely. But we knew well that the most dangerous portion of the climb was still to come since most climbing accidents occur on the descent.

Dizzy from having eaten barely anything in over 24 hours and fatigued by our exertion, we started out return to the refuge, battling the wind and sleet. Step by step, we descended, working hard to keep our focus. On the quieter slopes, I was able to take in some of the beauty around me and like a child in a story book I felt lost in the wild elemental nature of this land above the clouds.


Only 20 percent of the climbers that day reached the summit, and on the trip back to Quito I took stock. I always thought that when climbing you ‘fought the mountain,’ yet what resonated with me most that day was that, as in rowing, it is a battle against yourself. Your success is determined by your own desire [eds: and some good foutune]. Desire is really the only true endogenous variable to any success. Though my assent was hardly epic in nature, the adventure I experienced has been plenty enough to excite me: I’m already dizzy on my next vertical challenge - Kilimanjaro? Aconcagua? Mount Cook?

Cotopaxi 3/4

Day two started at 12 AM, or technically 11 PM because the “roo” had his clock wrong. (Not that we got much sleep that night since the bunks were like railway tracks). After some dry bread for breakfast we headed out and made slow and steady progress upward. By 4 AM, with a mounting blizzard and dropping temperatures, the Argentinean was developing hypothermia and our team was seriously threatened with the prospect of turning around.

As we prepared to turn around, lady luck tapped me on the shoulder, well, really it was the leader of another group that had already turned around before the summit on account of the cold. In the true spirit of mountaineering, they offered to take our frozen Argintinian down with them so we could continue.

The morning wore on and we passed more groups heading down as they too were forced to retreat. By 7 AM we were on the final leg, a relatively steep ascent to the summit.