Transition: summer -> fall

Camp program goes head over heals in the change from Summer camp to 6th grade science camp (outdoor education); from wild and free to school; swimming pool to "why?"; chaos to structure; counselor to cabin leader; bible studies to leaf observation, "I love you Lord" to "Dirt made my lunch".  It is an abrupt change not only for program and students but also for staff... but perhaps less of a change than normal.
This Summer seemed to happen to me as much as I happened to it.  Now with days off I find myself tending to be "on" and working anyway.  June through August was a whirlwind of Outpost weeks (Jr high rustic camp), two backpacking trips (which were challenging and inspiring with so much late season snow and water), a tree climbing camp (in which I learned and taught safe LNT tree climbing techniques) and leading mountain bike trips for high school and Jr high camps a few times per week.  Now in transition I will be shifting gears, but only slightly more toward observation based science and away from high adventure activities.  I look forward to this new season and start of my new Calvin Crest year.

During one of the backpacking trips along part of the John Muir Trail, floral variety pleased me greatly with a display of Ranger Buttons, Shooting Stars, Monk's Hood, Leopard Lilies, Queen Anne's Lace, Little Elephants Head, Cinque Foil, Fireweed, Crimson and Alpine Columbine, Wall Flower, Indian Paintbrush, and Owl's Clover, to name a few. Despite trekking in August when it would normally be dried out, the flowers felt their chance for bloom later because of a 190% average Sierra Nevada annual precipitation. The section of the JMT we traveled had high mountain passes over 12,000ft. which presented incredible bleak beauty that soon dropped sub-alpine.  These suddenly changing elevation based eco-systems displayed friends of the Willow family, Lodgepole Pine, Jeffery Pine, White Bark Pine, Red Pine, Aspen, Western Juniper, Hemlock and plenty others overlooked.
My animal list from the trip includes a Rattlesnake (4+ feet long), Mule Deer, Chickadees, Chickarees, Chipmunks, Ground Squirrels, Yellow Bellied Marmots, Garter Snake, Junco, Rosie Finch, Yellow Legged Frogs (trying to hop around on a frozen lake), Peregrine Falcon (over Muir Pass), two Bald Eagles (from Mather Pass), Humming Birds (selfishly enjoying and guarding a glade of Monk's Hood nectar), Blue Grouse and babies, trout, Clark's Nutcracker, White-Crowned Sparrow, and Pikas.

 Taboose Pass; our exit point. This trip was particularly relaxing.

Ann's mother and brother visited.  Excellent fun with touring on bikes and foot, games and movies, favorite restaurants and instant oatmeal, and climbing both rock and tree.  Ann, her brother Jonathan and I ascended ropes up into a Giant Sequoia, then Jonathan and I spent the night in hammocks within the canopy.  Bats swooping on our ascent in the dark, and nerves buzzing with awareness and childlike anticipation.  130 ft. from the dirt holding up our tree, we slept (occasionally).  The art of overnighting in a hammock is challenging, and while climbing harnesses are a necessary safety anchor, they aren't the most comfortable sleep aid.  I tended to get the best sleep on my side, curled up in a ball or with my down-bag-locked feet propped up on a branch near the end of my cocoon. Extra gear swayed gently next to me in the yellow backpack.  In the morning we wished we'd hauled up some milk and cereal... plenty of improvements to be made for next time.

The following day, the same tree that cradled us through the night called us back up to climbed to the top.  The very top.  Jonathan free climbed to the summit branches -what took professional tree climbers a full day of meticulously ascending- in around 20 minutes.  *mind explosion. I followed up and we enjoyed the unique 10 minutes of life above a Giant Sequoia's canopy.  Though I tend toward the solidness of rock for my vertical endeavors, there is a uniqueness to be known and explored from the top of one of the largest living things in the world.  God surely reveals His power through His Creation.  We watched the sun set behind the dwarfed fir and cedar covered hills, then abseiled in the dark. Time to sleep in a bed.

"What I stand for is what I stand on."
— Wendell Berry

New Blog... sort of

This hereby declares the end of "colin the coot" and the beginning of the textual legacy of the Hamelbachers dwelling in California's beautiful Sierra Nevada mountain range. Therefore everything henceforth and hereafter shall be representative of Ann and Colin in their current life at Calvin Crest having been sharing life in the marital context for nearly 1.5 year(s); which has included moving 4 times (finally settling in to our 300 sq. ft. mansion), adopting a stray dog (Leia), becoming Aunt and Uncle (x2), battling for life in the Snowpocalypse of 2011, learning Ukulele, rock climbing, hiking, cycling, hammock-ing (while humming bird friends feeder feast) and generally enjoying the friends and adventures that life at 5000 ft. has to offer.

Significants of being "in the Shadow of the Giants". What is this?! It is the name of a hiking trail near Calvin Crest that runs through the magnificent Nelder Grove of Giant Sequoias. *flashbacks upon the Shadow of the Giants trail.

*Exhibit A

June 2008...

Ann: "So, we're dating then?"

Colin: "Yeah!"

*Exhibit B

October 2009

Colin: "Marry me?"

Ann: "Yeah!"

*Exhibit C

Octobor 2010 to present

Leia: "Walk please!?"

Colin &Ann: "Yeah!"

The late Summer breeze tickles the Aspen leaves, and teaches the Peas, Goat's Beard and Lupine to wave us on along the trail.

Until next time,

C & A

Qoute to inspire:

"A man's life is always dealing with permanence, that is the most dangerous kind of irresponsibility is to think of your doings as temporary."
— Wendell Berry

Planet Earth in my Eyes

A few weeks ago I was blessed by capturing in my memory through visual interceptors a rare happenstance that most would only see on the Discovery Channel. I looked out of the guest room window over Bass Lake and proceeding to sip a hot cup of liquid GO beans prior to packing my things for the ride back to the coast, I glanced out the window. Stuck staring I turned on my personal steady cam of the eyes and glided close the glass to watch the curious movement that had caught my attention. A gaggle of ducks burst in every direction, creating a circle of water ripple V's pointing outward as they scattered, gradually rising up for flight.

The answer to my curiosity for why these ducks were acting so startled was the sudden appearance of a Bald Eagle flying into view. It swooped, then floated, hovering to a stall; timing its attack, then arrowed straight at its prey. Baldy slammed the luckless bird hard, breaking the water tension with ease. The great bird sat in the lake, floating over its meal, making little effort to subdue the struggling peon under water, drowning. It then proceeded to move toward the island, that was about 15 feet away, by doing the breast stroke with outstretched wings. Reaching the island it hopped up onto land with a limp something dragging underneath and began thrashing at it with its sharp carnivorous beak. Violently shaking its head with each bike, bits of the meal flopped into the lake and began floating away on the light ripples. These, I hypothesize, were feathers of the duck.

My eyes were spring stuck open and wishing to have the ability to zoom in, but very focused on this beautiful and terrible moment of the passing on of energy up the food chain, a life and death display at its finest. I wished I had a camera roling to share this with everyone or sell the footage somewhere, but am realizing and appreciating the simplicity of being the solo witness to this glorious tragedy. I don't think the duck was hollering "why me God?!"