Welcome, Maury

Ay, and while you slept, a baby, over all the English lands
Other little children took the volume in their hands;
Other children questioned, in their homes across the seas:
Who was little Louis, won’t you tell us, mother, please?


Now that you have spelt your lesson, lay it down and go and play,
Seeking shells and seaweed on the sands of Monterey,
Watching all the mighty whalebones, lying buried by the breeze,
Tiny sandy-pipers, and the huge Pacific seas.


And remember in your playing, as the seafog rolls to you,
Long ere you could read it, how I told you what to do;
And that while you thought of no one. nearly half the world away
Some one thought of Louis on the beach of Monterey!
--Robert Louis Stevenson

I returned yesterday from Sonoma. I flew down there for just one reason -- to hold Maury, my two week old great-niece, in my arms and look deep into her wondering, puzzled eyes. Babies are just babies, and to me they all look alike -- except when they arrive in my own family.

Just two weeks out in the open air, Maury still has only a few, very basic behavioral settings: she feeds, sleeps, cries, and poops. But while we adults are being delighted and/or irritated as she scrolls back and forth between these essential activities, we tend to overlook what is going on inside her small little head. Her eyes are darting around and her tiny hands are constantly reaching out for a reason: She is rapidly making mental connections between the outside world and the inner sensations given to her by her eyes, ears and skin. Her brain is multiplying synapses at an unbelievable rate, as she creates a mental map of the world about her.

She is shaping herself into a little person.

I watch her, and I think of the years that lie ahead. The joys and sorrows of childhood, adolescence and adulthood -- those joys and sorrows that may brush up against my own life, the many more that she will share only with others, and those that she will continue to experience after I'm no longer around to watch. This tiny baby reminds me that the appearance in our universe of even the dullest of human lives is an amazing phenomenon. With the kind of parents and background she has, I predict that Maury's life will be a technicolor supernova.

Robert Louis Stevenson wrote a famous poem in London in honor of Louis Sanchez, his godson, born halfway around the world in Monterey. The best I can manage for Maury is a blog posting. But accept it happily, Maury, and know that your uncle was already dreaming of your life to come -- while you still dreamed only of your next feeding!

Half way to heaven

Here I am, safely home from an exciting trek in Nepal. I still feel a bit jet-lagged, compounded by a cold caught on the long flight home, all of which decreases my enthusiasm for scribbling in my blog. I did write a summary email, that most of you, my readers, received. And fortunately, Pascal copied me in last night on an email he sent to his own friends and family. Relying on a couple of 2007 precedents, when Pascal wrote as a guest blogger from New Zealand and Australia -- and in recognition of the sense of excitement and enthusiasm that he brings to his writing -- I present here excerpts from his trip report, adding some paragraph breaks of my own:

[10/13/09] I just got back to Pokhara a couple hours ago. The trek was fantastic! The group was great too! The trip was very different than I was expecting, but wonderful still.For starters we spent about 75% of the trek in a lush green (and wet) rain forest! I was expecting landscapes more similar to my last trip to the Indian Himalayas: arid, very little vegetation, and a jagged range of mountains. For starters, it was raining off and on for our first day of trekking, something that we got none of in India. Come to think of it, we got at least a little rain every day. We started out trekking through hillside after hillside of rice paddies. I love rice paddies! The spectrum of green they contain is just gorgeous. My favorite color ever. We would hike through tiny villages that consist of a couple houses and their live stock (typically chickens and a water buffalo with the occasional goat). Everyone would offer up a kind "Namaste!" Such gorgeous people.

I guess an average day of hiking would be about 5-6 hours of hiking. Averaging about 8 miles a day. It's incredible to look back and see how much ground you've covered by just walking. We did a lot of vertical too. We'd be up in a village and then have to hike way down to cross a river (all swinging bridges!) and then wayyy back up the other side to continue on to our next destination. Loooots of steps. The trail is very well maintained though, it's a very popular one. You really got the sense of it because you were constantly running into other trekking groups. For most of our nights we would be camping next to little lodges that have extra grass space. So we could use their facilities and such. I had no idea it was so developed here. All along the route there were little lodges where you could stay. You could totally do it with just your backpack and stay in lodges the whole way. I was a little curious why we didn't do that, so I asked and our guide said that REI tries to support the local economy as much as possible wherever they go. So by camping we needed an army of porters, kitchen staff, assistant guides, etc. I think all in all at the beginning of the trek we had about 27 staff for us 9 hikers! Crazy huh?! We cut some porters as we went along, so at the end we had 21 staff.

[10/18/09] The first four days we wouldn't really gain all that much altitude from camp to camp... but we did a lot of vertical to get there. Down to a river and then up the other side. I really enjoyed the swinging bridges though. They gave the trek a little Indiana Jones feeling to it (minus the bad guys cutting the bridge mid-way). Most of them were pretty sturdy, but there was always the occasional missing plank here and hole there.

The camps were all pretty similar up until the fourth day when it rained... a lot. We were soaked for the entire day. It wasn't that cold when we were hiking cause you were constantly climbing stairs, but as soon as we stopped for lunch or something we got pretty chilly pretty fast. So our guide thankfully sent one of the staff ahead and set up accommodation at a little lodge in Dovan. The main idea was so that we could stay dry and maybe dry some of our sopping wet clothes. Everyone greatly appreciated it. It was a cool little place too. A cozy common room where we played Hearts, Gin, Poker (not for money though), and Scrabble. Little did we know we would be spending the whole next day in that cozy little room.

That night it POURED rain all through the night. We got up a little worried and rightfully so. At breakfast our guide, Nima, told us that he and the Sirdar (in charge of most of the staff) had hiked a little ahead and it wasn't looking good. All of the streams that were normally little creeks had over flowed. There were sections where you could normally hop from rock to rock, but now you would have to wade dangerously through. He strongly suggested we not go up that day. I was a little peeved at the time, but later that day as trekkers were returning from Machhapuchre Base Camp (MBC) and told us of their day I was very glad we didn't push through. They said they were wading through fast moving creeks above their knees and pretty much all of them were swept off their feet at some point. Soooo... we played more cards and watch the rain continue to fall... all day long.

I was quickly giving up hope of making it to Annapurna Base Camp (ABC). Even if the rain did let up a bit we would make it up there only to see more clouds. That, and it was dangerous because if we went up and then it started to pour again we might be stuck there, not able to cross the creeks. Everyone was starting to give up hope. We came up with a backup plan: we would hike back as we had planned, but make a side route to a well known vista of the mountains. Maybe if the clouds cleared we MIGHT be able to get a view. I wasn't holding my breath. Nima was relatively sure that it would be raining for the next couple of days. But it didn't!

We went to sleep drearily as the rain spattered on our tin roofs. In the morning I awoke to excited whispers of "It's not raining!!" I thought I was still dreaming. I wasn't. I ran outside and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. I was PUMPED! I bounced my way through breakfast not able to hold still. The hike up was muddy, but definitely doable. We crossed creek after creek usually over logs that had been made into somewhat sturdy bridges. Rock hopped over the rest of them. But it was so worth it. We finally were able to get good views of the mountains! Machhapuchre (or Fish Tail) is a stupendous peak topping off at 22,942 ft!The clouds rolled in around lunch time, but Nima assured us that it was normal for it cloud up in the afternoon due to the moisture evaporating from the rain forest and drifting up through the valleys.

When we got to our camp at MBC it was completely socked in, but we couldn't be happier to just be there. Later in the evening we were coaxed out of our dining tent by the sounds of "Baaaaa" all around us. Sure enough there was about 100 goats surrounding us! Kids are pretty damn cute. I ended up taking far too many goat pictures. But it was a good thing they got us out there, cause the clouds ended up parting and we got fantastic views of Fishtail Mt. as the sun was setting on it. Gorgeous. A very picturesque peak which would explain my excess of pictures devoted to it.

The next morning we got up at 5 AM to hike up to ABC to catch the morning sun on the peaks. It was bright and sunny! We couldn't be happier! Just about at freezing when we started off to ABC which is about a 2 hour hike up. We were encouraged along the way by the fantastic vistas unfolding directly in front of us. Actually all around us! That's the amazing thing about the Annapurna Sanctuary is that it is absolutely surrounded by 20,000 ft mountains! Unreal. Once we arrived we just couldn't stop taking pictures. We were so in awe of the monumental size of the towering snowy peaks on all sides of us. You realize how very minuscule you really are in this world. Quite a humbling experience. There was an amazing sense of peacefulness as we sat in silence and gazed awestruck at our surroundings. Unfortunately we could only stay about an hour and then we had to start heading back. Originally we had a whole day planned there, but due to our delay in Dovan cause of the rain we had to bypass that day. But we couldn't have cared less. We were all just sooooooo thankful and lucky that we got to see it at all! I think having that rainy day made us appreciate it even more. Every thing happens for a reason, and I couldn't have been happier.

The rest of the trip was just toppings on the cake. We hiked through this very old village called Ghandruk which was just charming. Tiny little stone walkways that zig-zagged through the town in no apparent order. We went out exploring it and would often times all of a sudden find ourselves in someone's back courtyard. I felt like I could have been back in the 17th century or something.

Pascal brings the trek to life. A sampling of my own photos are posted on Facebook.