murraysovereign

You don't even have to be a Chavez-style socialist. The last big oil boom in Alberta saw the Conservative government run up the highest per capita spending in Canada on education and health care and such, and then when oil prices dropped again, they quickly ended up with a pretty impressive per capita debt load. Now they're running huge surpluses again, thanks to record oil prices, and they're debating whether to blow it all on increased program spending again, eliminate various taxes, or invest it in the Heritage Fund in keeping with Peter Lougheed's original plan. It'll be interesting to see what they decide to do.

Also 25% off all Chaco Sandals, and all Prana clothing. Valhalla Pure, Squamish 604 892 9092 squamish@vpo.ca

I wouldn't know - I can't really think of myself as either a "professional" or a "climber". The "geek" part has a faint ring of truth to it, though.

Careful, now. As I recall, good ole 'Murican Ingenuity sent some multi-million dollar payload spinning off into the depths of space because someone down there couldn't understand metric. It's pretty easy, really - you just multiply and divide by tens, instead of twelves or sixteens or whatever that quaint, archaic system you people are still clinging to is based on. What is it again - barley corns, or someone's fore-arm or something?

Not only are both these things still chugging away, but now they're bagging summits! What was their designed life expectancy - something like a couple of months? A year and a half later and they seem to be just getting warmed up. Of course, it's just a matter of time before Fido gets wind of this and starts slagging "Spirit" for not having independent verification and impartial timers and providing GPS track-logs and proper summit photos and such.

Oh, and while I'm here, I might as well throw "A Tale of Two Cities" onto the pile.

That's a great book. A new perspective on baseball! Please tell me this "new perspective on baseball" is that it's just a game, not a metaphor for life or an allegory or a morality play or any of that BS.

"Mirazyme"

www.mountainspeedclimbing.org

Hmmm, lessee... F Dubya = FW = Fairweather?

Maybe these people can help you.

You don't actually believe that, do you?

Actually, the Cheakamus River is within 15M of the tracks, so it's within their right-of-way, so they can do what they want with it. All those fish were trespassing anyway, and had been for years. If you ask me, the slimy little buggers got exactly what they deserved.

I can't - I'm in Salt Lake City for the next few days. Anybody else want to do it?

Day’s Objective: Squamish to Granville Island and back, by water, via the “Standard Route” through Howe Sound and English Bay. Date: 8 August '05 This trip started out poorly, but finished off well. As with air travel, in which the take-off and landing are the most dangerous stages of the journey, I encountered an unexpected technical crux right at the start. Or, actually, before I even got started, really. Try to imagine a passenger jet crashing in the process of backing away from the gate. Sort of like that. Usually, launching the boat is a fairly straight-forward operation: a) back boat and trailer down launch ramp until boat is in the water; b) release catch on trailer winch, allowing boat to float free of trailer; c) secure boat to whatever is handy so it doesn’t drift away while you d) park the vehicle and trailer before e) driving away blissfully in boat. Simple. Usually. This time, for some reason the boat seemed to hang up on the trailer once I’d backed it into the water. Try as I might, I couldn’t get it to roll more than 6 or 8 feet back off the trailer. While I was walking around in the water trying to figure out the obstruction, I happened to glance into the boat. In the same instant that I noticed a large volume of water in the boat, I also noticed the drain plug twist-tied onto the throttle lever next to the steering wheel, where I always leave it to ensure that I remember to put it back into the stern drainhole before launching the boat. On this occasion, I appear to have forgotten. As the boat filled with water through the drain hole, it had sunk down onto the trailer rather than floating weightless above it, and was thus stuck fast. So the solution seemed quite simple: winch the boat back up onto the trailer and drive a short distance back up the ramp, allowing the water to drain out of the boat. Then put the drain plug in, and re-launch the boat. No problem. Well, maybe one problem. The combined weight of the boat and the large volume of water onboard was apparently more than the winch could handle. Although the first few cranks produced encouraging results, the winch suddenly seized up, and would move neither forward nor back. Close inspection revealed that a number of gears had stripped under the load, and in fact the entire frame of the winch was twisting and buckling. So the boat was still full of water, still 3 or 4 feet too far back on the trailer, and I had no way of pulling it further forward. But, I thought, I could simply drive forward a few feet, just enough to allow the water to drain out. Then I could insert the plug, re-launch the boat, and be on my way. No problem. Well, maybe one more problem. While pulling the truck up the ramp a few feet, I heard a loud “BANG”. When I looked in the rear-view mirror, I saw what looked like the underside of the boat pointing steeply upwards, which is not entirely normal. In fact, I have never before seen any boat behave this way. When I got out to see what had happened, I found that not only the boat, but also the trailer, were both pointing skyward. It seems the weight of the water combined with the boat’s position hanging off the back of the trailer had produced a terrific amount of leverage, so much so that the trailer hitch had released vertically off the ball mount. The only thing now restraining the combined weight of trailer, boat, and water was a very frail-looking, rusty 1/4” chain looped around the bumper. It was as tight as a piano wire, at about a 45 degree angle up from the bumper to the trailer hitch. I was initially afraid to get close to it, for fear it was about to snap and send bits of chain-link shrapnel in all directions. But something had to be done, since the status quo was clearly untenable. So I rummaged about and found a couple of nice angular rocks to block the wheels of the trailer so it couldn’t roll further back into the water. My plan, again, was simple: stand on the trailer hitch to bring the bow downward, thus raising the stern sufficiently to allow the water to drain, then insert the plug, re-attach the trailer to the truck, and launch the boat, finally. This was eventually what happened, but not right away. Not by a long shot. When I climbed onto the trailer hitch, nothing happened. This was not surprising since I am not a large man, and the mass of water on the other end of this lever was several times my puny weight. But I found that by gripping the lip of the truck canopy and pulling up on it with all my might, I was able to start bringing the bow down, ever so slowly, as bit by bit more water drained out the back, making the stern lighter, allowing me to pull the bow down another couple of inches, allowing more water to drain out, and so on, until I eventually had the boat and trailer back down to a more normal attitude. So I had made important progress, but yet another problem (can you believe it?) now revealed itself. Upon being released from the ball-mount, the trailer had, in accordance with the laws of physics, rolled backwards down the ramp until the chain snapped tight. So now, even though I had wrestled the hitch back down level with the ball mount, there was still a horizontal gap of about 18” between the trailer and the truck, and I was trapped. I couldn’t leave my position on the trailer hitch or it would flip back into the water, the boat would fill up, and I’d be right back where I started. My options appeared limited. Up until this point, everything I had done was basically a one-person job. Now it seemed I needed help. Being a man, however small in stature, it is understood that one cannot, ever, under any circumstances, actually appeal for help: it simply isn’t done. But if help suddenly appears, then as an absolute last resort it is permissible to accept such help, as long as you repeatedly assure them that it really isn’t necessary. So I started looking around to see if anyone was in the vicinity. In particular, I was looking at the very crowded docks of the Squamish Yacht Club, immediately adjacent the boat launch. In spite of the large number of boats, there was not a soul to be seen. Either they were all at lunch, or they were merely out of sight, rolling on the floors of their vessels, helpless and screaming with laughter. Whichever was the case, it appeared I was on my own. So what to do? I briefly contemplated a dramatic leap off the trailer hitch into the boat where I would quickly jam the plug into the drain before the boat re-filled with water. This was clearly not plausible, and possibly suicidal – I had visions of myself being catapulted up and over the boat as it flipped backwards, probably breaking my neck on impact in the shallow, rocky waters, and thus drowning. (Can you imagine the episode of “CSI: Squamish” where they try to figure out how and why it had happened?) Alternatively, I could let the boat drop back down into the water long enough to jump into the truck and roll it back the 18” needed to re-couple the trailer, then climb back onto the trailer hitch and resume the wearying process of slowly pulling the bow down as the water drained out yet again. This was at least feasible, but not an appealing prospect. By this time my arms were, to say the least, getting tired from the sustained exertion of lifting upwards on the truck canopy in order to hold the bow of the boat down, and I knew I had to do something soon before I ran out of strength altogether. This was when I noticed that, since I had now brought the bow down to its proper level, there was quite a bit of slack in the back-up chain that had formerly been so frighteningly taut. So as a stop-gap exercise in damage control, I decided to at least re-fasten the chain to eliminate all the slack. That way I could get off the trailer hitch to perform whatever maneuver was to come next, and the boat at least would not flip all the way back to where it had been. So, with my right arm now pulling up on the bumper to keep everything in equilibrium, I reached down with my left hand and unscrewed the nut and bolt that connected the two ends of the chain. I then pulled all the slack chain tight, and wrapped the excess once around the bumper for good measure before fumbling the bolt back through the chain ends and then… dropped the nut into the murky water below me. So now I had one option, and one option only – find that nut. And find it fast, I might add – my right arm by this time was fairly howling with pain. But remember – I couldn’t leave my position on the trailer hitch, more-so now than ever. If the boat tipped upwards now, with the chain disconnected, there would be nothing at all to restrain it and it could very well flip right the whole way over backwards. If that happened I feared for the health of those members of the Squamish Yacht Club, who would just now finally be regaining their composure, only to be stricken helpless again at the sight of my boat floating upside down in the harbour, still attached to its trailer. So now, with true desperation setting in, I began delicately re-positioning myself so as to be able to balance on the trailer hitch as I reached down into the water with my left hand, while still retaining a death-grip on the bumper with what strength remained in my right. After picking up a number of items that turned out to be pebbles, I finally got hold of the nut and, with my hand trembling like a nervous bridegroom, I tried to slip the nut onto the waiting bolt. And dropped it back into the water. My right arm by now felt as if it had been partially amputated, and I was panicking as I groped around in the murk. But mercifully, I found the nut again without much trouble, and this time managed to thread it onto the bolt and tighten it down. Finally, my right arm could let go, and as it did the trailer rose slowly but, held down by the shortened chain, it was unable to lift itself skyward the way it had done earlier. So now I had only to back the truck down the ramp until the ball mount and the trailer hitch lined up, re-couple them, and take a very long, deep breath. Then, finally, more than an hour later than I should have, I set the plug in the drain hole. Whew! Now totally paranoid about what else might go wrong, I went through a pre-launch checklist that would make NASA look hasty and careless by comparison, before finally convincing myself it was safe to put the boat in the water. And from this point on, the day was largely uneventful. The run down Howe Sound was choppy but not rough, and the sun was bright and warm, and I was deeply relieved to finally be away from that cursed boat launch. English Bay was a bit more interesting, with sizeable swells rolling in from two or three different directions at once, but it was nothing the boat couldn’t handle and I made good time all the way to Granville Island. The beauty of all this is that the original purpose of the trip was to visit the marine supply shops just off Granville Island to pick up some odd parts and fittings for the boat. So in the interests of efficiency I decided to also pick up a new, beefier trailer winch, you know, since I was there anyhow. Oh, and maybe a new hitch for the trailer as well – I’ll never again be able to fully trust the old one. And then back in the boat and out on the water for the return trip, which was also blissfully uneventful, and included a stop in the lee of Anvil Island where I cut the engine and just drifted for a couple of hours. I’ve been going there a lot lately to escape the heat, or rather to wallow in it. I sprawl out in the back seat with a good book and a cooler full of cold ginger beers, alternately reading and taking in the view and snoozing in the sun. When it gets too hot, I strip off and roll over the side for a swim, then pick up the book and keep reading until it gets too hot, and go over the side to cool off again, and repeat as often as I damn well please. There’s usually not another soul out there except me and a few seals, and the occasional eagle. It’s as close to perfect relaxation as I’ve ever found. I eventually got back to Squamish with a couple of hours’ daylight remaining, which gave me plenty of time to install the new winch on the trailer so I could get the boat out of the water. I was pretty hesitant about pulling the loaded trailer back up that ramp, half-expecting the old hitch to release again, but I didn’t have the tools or the time to replace it with the new one. So with bated breath and white knuckles I slowwwly crept it up out of the water and onto level ground, waiting for a loud “BANG” that never came. Thank God. Approach Notes Read my lips: "put the drain plug in, you bonehead." Gear: 1 boat. While not strictly necessary, it helps if the boat was inheritted from your late father, who you miss dearly. Thanks for everything, Dad, except maybe that trailer hitch. 1 Drain-plug, (see approach notes, above) 1 Trailer Winch, rated for several times as much weight as you ever expect to have to pull. 1 Trailer Hitch, preferably less than 40 years old, as they seem to become unreliable with age. Sunglasses, sunscreen, 1 good book, 1 cooler full of cold drinks, 3 tanks of gas, and 1 day to kill.

My Thursday meeting will probably go pretty late - in the past it's wrapped up 10:30+ Is there a street party this year we could meet at - Friday usually, isn't it?

Any Penguins were probably killed off by the sodium hydroxide spill on Friday, unless they were able to get out of the water in time. At least the penguins would have been capable of getting out - all those trout and steelhead in the Cheakamus didn't stand a chance. Of course, a penguin in bondage would have a harder time making it onto shore, but it would still be better off than a fish, what with having no arms or legs at all. Tough call, but I'm going to say the penguin probably is just fine, despite the bondage thing.

Sounds like a good plan - I've got a couple of evening meetings I need to attend, one on Thursday evening, the other I'm not sure of yet.

Some people have been trying for a while now to do just that, but everything's so F'ing wet and mouldy it just sort of smolders for a few minutes and then sputters out. Any suggestions? And there's a couple of spots where the ground would probably catch fire, too, so we need to watch out for that. But otherwise, I'm with you. Oh, and can we try to have the flames skip around my place? I've just paid off the mortgage, and I'd like to enjoy the place for a little while. So when can we start?

I've got to give them credit, though - they did a beautiful job with texturing the finish. From a distance it still looks exactly like natural granite. They must have paid some serious extra $$$ for that kind of work.

Just an update - pH levels in the Cheakamus River have returned to normal, so it's safe to go back in the water again.

The dry, hot weather is starting to have its predictable effect. As of August 4th, there is a campfire ban in effect for all of southwest BC. Apparently fires are still permitted in the fireboxes at supervised campgrounds, but otherwise open fires are not permitted, particularly in the backcountry. So pack your stove if you're going out. The closure area extends from the border up the Fraser River as far north as Lillooet, and west to Princess Louisa Inlet. And people are being warned to avoid contact with the Cheakamus River for the next few days. A train derailment yesterday dumped a tanker of caustic soda into the river, just below the Daisy Lake dam, so if you were thinking of going for a swim after climbing, or maybe had plans to go kayaking, you may want to activate "Plan B" until the river has had a couple of days to flush itself out.

Instead of changing the dates for the beginning and end of daylight savings, why don't they just extend summer by adding an extra month in the middle? Because, really, who wants longer days in October - aren't they long enough already? But a whole new month between July and August would be awesome! And if it's supposed to be about saving energy, just declare the whole month a statutory holiday so no-one will do any work at all. Think how much energy that could save. And politically popular? Are you kidding?

Nice to see how you are so quick to tie a Brit law enforcement issue to GW and Texas. Guess that's what happens when your hatred of something-or someone-is so complete that it defines your very being. Yeah, I'm with FW on this one. It's more like: "I guess that's what happens when everyone's nerves are wound up tight as piano wires, waiting for someone to try to blow up a train or a bus, and right in the middle of it all some guy starts behaving exactly the way you might expect him to behave if he was going to try to blow up a train or a bus." Yes, it was a bad scene, and nobody likes to see the police killing innocent people. But given the environment in London these last couple of weeks, I'll be the last person on earth to second-guess those bobbies. They did what they felt they had to do, and each of them doubtless feels like a total piece of shit as a result. If this was some backwoods police force made up of weekend warriors and Dirty Harry Wannabes, maybe I'd view this a little differently. But Scotland Yard doesn't exactly have a reputation for senseless gunplay and a "shoot first, cover-up later" attitude.

Oops... sorry 'bout that.