The long conversation between passive microwave repeaters

East Repeater: You're looking pale.

West Repeater: I always look pale over the city in fog or inversion, or so I'm told.

East Repeater: Its been a long Autumn between you and I, and yes, the inversion suits you, but now is something different. Something's changed. Perhaps its just the wind making the scrub oak quiver at your base.

West: Yes, well the wind makes me quiver more than the scrub oak. Shake more like it.

East: The gusts hit you first, then me. I can tell that from the microwaves we share at the speed of light.

West: Those are vastly different timescales. From storm to storm and day to night we see it all very slowly, yet we reflect transmissions in an instant.

East:  Yeah, the signature of the wind rides on that carrier wave.

West: Nice to know about that. I always wondered what that was. My paint is peeling. The taggers have not made it up here in a while. Graffiti is a dead art form.

East: You don't look bad to me, just a little paler, probably just the light of morning, or the lack of taggers. I don't know. But the taggers don't know about the carrier wave for the wind. You reflect that back to me only.

West: Yes it has been a long Autumn, and we repeat everything that reflects on us. Me, you, the taggers, and the scrub oak.

On Warming Huts and Family Ski Touring in the Wasatch

After ascending a few clicks, we got out for a ski---the first time Imms strapped in. She dug it.

Hot cocoa, cookies, and a few miles up the trail. We miss the warming huts of the Gatineau Park. They made for a more family friendly ski venue. The Wasatch, of course, are rugged mountains, and there are no real structures in the remaining wild parts. Although I typically would be against any development there, after skiing the Gats, I would be all for a series (or just one) of public warming huts going up Mill Creek to the Park City ridgeline. It would be much better than the single yurt they have up there now that gets booked up for private parties months in advance. Why not have a public yurt stocked with wood and a fireplace, a nice rest stop to the upper valley, or final destination before the descent back down...?

New snow.

The picture speaks for itself.

On passing our party, one fellow ski tourer noted that she forgot one essential touring item: a pacifier. Which, is kind of spot on, since she did not have an Avalung on....

Masterclass of the gorilla---a Triassic poem in pictures

Setting the trap

to let fly.

A delicate step

to bridge the distance.

Over nothing.

This time we turn it on its head, Gorilla.

Parrying with gravity on a rock, supinated.

To set,

and settle,

and then let fly again... all day long:

Masterclass of the gorilla. Then we had tea.

Alta is for babies

First tracks of the year.

We (I) skinned up to the top of the Sunnyside lift. Just a little dash up the cat-track with the leather boots and three-pin tele gear. At the top I let her out to play with her poles---she loves the poles, but not the skis that came with them. No rush on skiing....

Now this may not be for everyone, but little girls love big trucks apparently. We happened to encounter several very awe-inducing "trucks" during our adventure. She kept talking about the "tuks" for the rest of the evening. So for posterity, here they are:

Pretty freaking cool, huh?