Oh Christmas Tree

This year for Christmas I wanted to get a real, live tree for my apartment. I'm not talking a fresh cut tree. I wanted a real tree- roots and all. My thoughts behind this can be traced back to NOLS.
National Forests are government owned lands. We usually think of them as being similar to National Parks, and areas of protection. This is far from the truth. National Forests are looked at by the government as crops. They are viewed the same as corn, wheat, and any other land that contains a valuable natural resource. It is not protected, and can be sold to outside sources for clear cut harvesting.
Upon exiting the Olympic National Park, we entered the National Forest. This was a rather dramatic arrival. Inside the park the old growth forests were untouched. As soon as we exited, the land was clear cut of all growth. There were only stumps and bare earth for miles.
I do not want to contribute to deforestation in any way. This does not mean that I am taking such dramatic steps such as avoiding all wooden furniture and not ever using toothpicks. I am, however, going to replant my tree(how does the middle of Schenley Park sound?) and recycle whatever paper products I can. If anyone would like to contribute to the "Jen's Christmas Tree Needs A Home" campaign, let me know. If you know of a good location, I am open to suggestions.

Copy Cat

I'm home for break and one of the perks aside from being able to do free laundry, is to be able to see Thomas. The boy turned 1 on the 19th, and is getting cuter and cuter every time I see him. I missed a few things while I've been gone. The first is that he started walking. He's a little tipsy still, but he manages on his own. The second is that he can talk a little. "Mama", and "Dada", were among his first. However these are not the most common words that he utters. I was admittidly suprised to hear him "speak" for the first time. I had been warned, but just wasn't quite prepared no willing to believe what I heard. Meooowwwww. Yes, the child meows. It's not vague muttering that may be mistaken for baby babble. It is a very pronounced word consisting of four very distinct sounds. Upon further reflection this did not seem so strange. Ben and Debs cats are rather vocal creatures. Children immitate what they hear often. It just so happens that he hears the cats more often than he does people.

The perks of nightime skiing : Snow makers

Last night I went skiing for the second time this season. Night skiing of course; gusty winds, flying ice particles, and ice patches included. Seven springs is becoming a little more familiar, and I know a little more what to expect next time- the blacks are empty and usually have better conditions than the blues and greens. They get less use, and are therefore less icy. Despite the steepness, I prefer them to the easier runs. It provides more of a challenge for me. I like to have that slightly out of control feel, and that is easily obtained while bombing down a black. This last trip, however, I did only minimal blacks. The blues allowed me to improve my turns and technique and the greens even proved to be a problem at times.

Allow me to elaborate. Rachele has a favorite run at 7 Springs: Lost Boy. It's a long green that winds its way around the North Face of the mountain. This is the more icy, windy and difficult side. Nonetheless, Lost Boy is still a green and fairly flat. It's a fun run...As long as you're equipped. Rachele did not bring goggles while snowboarding. She sticks to the slower slopes and doesn't require the protective face gear that is needed at blinding speeds(she's working her way there, though). We decided to split up for a run- her to do the favorite, and I was going to tackle a black. I was pelted with ice from the snow makers and my goggles iced over entirely. Still, this was an invigorating ride without being able to see the slope in front of me. When we met at the bottom, she explained her trip- blinding ice- and she had no goggles. "It sucked so bad Jen, you have to try it" Ok, sure. Oh, and I gave her my goggles too, just so I could get the real experience. I wanted to try this run from her perspective. At the top it wasn't too bad. I had my neck warmer pulled up over one eye so that I resembled a pirate. With this configuration I had no depth perception which allowed for some unexpected confrontations with snow drifts. The real fun started when the trail turned into the wind. Now instead of the snow drifts, I had blinding ice coming straight into my face. My only hope was to keep my eyes closed and pray that the trail didn't turn. It worked out fairly well. My eyelashes, encrusted in ice, glued themselves together, and any bare skin was instantly made known by the stinging ice. My only thought was "let this be over soon" However since I was going into the wind, I was losing momentum even as I was going downhill. It was a painfully slow descent. Once safely at the bottom, Rachele was grinning ear to ear "See what I mean". Well I know what she meant, but I couldn't exactly see too well. Never again would she forget her goggles.

The whole ice pelting experience reminded me of a book that I read this summer: "Shackleton's Forgotten Men". It's about the Antarctic exploration and the tragic and devastating journey made my Ernest Shacklton's supply crew. They spoke often of driving winds, and how painful the driving snow and ice were. It's an informative read and very captivating if you're into harsh wilderness conditions.

Almost useless information

I made some bread today, and for those of you who have ever attempted this, I have a bit of advice. This twist is a NOLS backpacking technique. While in the wilderness I have baked bread believe it or not. Come to think of it, I have baked bread in the wilderness more often that I have in a real kitchen. Ok, heres how it works:
1) Using a pre-set recipe, mix the water, sugar and yeast in a container and let sit for 5min.
2)Then take a larg ziploc bag- the more durable the better- and mix everything in it. yeasty water and all.
3) Zip it up and squish it all around. This is quite a bit of fun, it's like a edible playdough... well, I ate playdough anyway.
4) Find a good book and stuff that bag of rising yeasty muck under your shirt. Sit around for an hour while it rises. Your body heat is just warm enough for the yeast to grow.
5) After an hour, or when you are driven mad by the 5 extra mushy pounds you put on, put it in the oven(in bread pans you dummy).

Voala! Perfect bread.