Gridiron and the Zombie Apocalypse

A week ago today the Seattle Seahawks were in the Superbowl.

That is to say, the American Rules Football team that plays here in my city were in the championship game. The Superbowl is an interesting sports event, because even people who don't care about the sport tend to watch it.  It's a major national holiday.  I, however, don't care about it at all. I do like that the Seattle team is named after Osprey, the eagle-like raptors that hunt fish in the fjord.

Seattle is a terrible sports city. The fans are not very passionate, and tend to not know much about sports... and the teams tend to be terrible. There is a long history of losing teams here and it's even become a national story in the last few years about how bad Seattle teams are.  There was a hockey championship in 1902 and a basketball championship in 1979. And the Seahawks lost the championship game in 2006.  Otherwise almost always losing seasons in all sports and the baseball team is the worst in baseball history.

Suffice it to say there was a lot of excitement about this game, nationally of course, but especially locally.  Although i certainly wanted the Seahawks to win, i had no interest in watching the game. I planned a bike ride with a friend.

We drove in her truck about an hour and a half to Olympia and set out on a gorgeous trail through the forest.  One reason we chose a trail was because this day, Superbowl Sunday, is one of the biggest days for drunk driving. Not being on roads seemed a good idea.  We set out late, around lunchtime, on purpose. 

We rode from across downtown Olympia to a new trail called the Woodland Trail.  It was very short, about 3 miles, but it was gorgeous!!  It was also very well signed.   Normally the signs on bike trails are poor.  This trail had signs with street names at cross streets, a great feature which is sorely missing on many bike trails.

Early in our ride there were a lot of people walking on the trail before the game, but before long we were alone. Neither of us had ridden long miles in quite a while and we tired quickly, but we pushed through it.  By the time we got to the end of the trail we both felt like we didn't want to go back the same way (26 mi) we came so we decided to head out on the road.

When we got to the little town of Tenino it was as if it had been completely abandoned.  No cars, no people, no activity.  You almost expected tumbleweeds to be rolling through.  We did find a grocery store, which had no customers, and we fueled up there.  Then we set out on old Highway 99, up over a small mountain.  This is a road i would not normally ever ride on, due to fast, busy car traffic.  But on this day it was almost empty.  We saw maybe a dozen cars in 12 miles!  No people walking or outside in yards.  Not even dogs.  Sue kept joking that it was like the Zombie Apocalypse.

It was very strange having the whole world to ourselves.   Even in the towns, while fast food restaurants were opened, there was no one in them,  sidewalks were empty, busses were empty, parking lots were empty and there were NO CARS ANYWHERE on the streets.  It was amusing and strange.  We rode up through Olympia, which was also empty and packed our bikes in Sue's truck right at sunset.

It was a very very nice ride and both of us got stronger as the day went on. It took over an hour to drive back to Seattle.  There were cars on the freeway but traffic was VERY light.  As we drove into my neighborhood, we opened the windows.  The bars were packed with people, but everything was silent.   We couldn't determine the status of the game.  As we were unloading the bikes outside my building we heard some shouts and whoops, but they were all coming from just one apartment.   We figured that could mean bad news.  They might be Denver fans.

But pretty quickly people started yelling out the windows of all of the nearby buildings.  Horns started honking.   This seemed like a good sign.   A bottle rocket shot out of my own building!  And then the blue and green official fireworks show started on the Space Needle.

That told me all i needed to know.  I didn't care about the game (or the sport), i didn't want to watch, but i did want the Seahawks to win the championship and i wanted to hear about it from my neighbors.   It was fun!!! 

Shells From The Nova

When i was in High School i read a science fiction book that i cannot remember the name of.

Pretty much all i did in High School was read science fiction.  I would often bring two books to school with me because i would finish one each day.  Many of those books were on my bookshelves until a big garage sale a few years ago.

However there is one book that i think about fairly often that i cannot remember the name or the author.  Maybe someone can help.  I don't really remember the story, i remember the setting.

The setting was a trading planet where people came to meet up, lots of races mixing, and lots of humans from all over the galaxy on the planet.  It was a dark and dismal place. No one was there because of the place rather they were there because they needed to be; It was a big active port that no one really wanted to spend time at. 

The unusual thing about this planet was it's star.  At regular intervals (2 years? I don't remember exactly.) the star would under go a Nova like explosion and would send a layer of energy and particles out.  This layer would settle, invisibly, on the planet and cover everything and every one on the planet.  It didn't hurt anyone, but once a layer of the dust settled on you -- you could never leave the planet.  So before every Nova there was a scramble to get off planet.  Of course the protagonist was caught by a serious of unfortunate events on planet during a Nova.

Once you were stuck on planet, you started accumulating layers of Nova dust.  While the dust was invisible, it slightly distorted your senses.  However as more layers accumulated, that slight distortion became greater. 

Each layer of dust that accumulated on you made it harder and harder to communicate with people with no layer or a significantly different number of layers from you.  Eventually, "oldtimers" were invisible to newcomers.

If you know the name or author of this book, please leave a comment!

Guest Post: An Unusual Commuting Hazard

Guest Post by my friend Ryan

There are many hazards to be weary of or at least incidences that are probable in city riding.  I’ve experienced most of them, but every once in a while something new blindsides you.  After reading my encounter, you may well be wishing it would happen to you.

It was late last November on a routine yet pleasurable ride through Frink Park on Lake Washington Blvd. through the upper reaches of Leschi Neighborhood.  I’m headed south and homebound after work, making my way to Beacon Hill, thinking about dinner and trying to forget about the work day as best I can while cranking through the dusk.

This is a section of Lake Washington Blvd., diverged from the shore, where you may see a car or two over a miles distance.  It’s what you wish the rest of the Blvd. were.  It is heavily canopied belt of forest, mostly holding it’s own against invasive intruders.   The stretch of my encounter has much intrigue on it’s own, inhabited by an old bridge with adornment and water flowing down at a bend in the contour line with very little city light penetrating.  Much as the beloved Interlaken Park, it is looked forward to.

As it is fall, the hazards are increased beyond the usual pothole ridden pavement.  Tree debris and puddles must be considered.  A line must be chosen and you must take a relaxed stance on the bike to absorb the inevitable jolts of that line.  So I finesse as I am  able and ready for the smooth negative grade ahead.  The road begins to straighten out and a street light begins to light the way, welcoming the rider out of the woods.

But then, through this moment of relaxed anticipation of clear road, I’m struck by what from all other experience, feels like a low hanging branch against my helmet.  No big deal I think in a half seconds time... except that I’m more or less in the middle of the road, with no wind, and foliage well out of reach... and the branch has struck me in the back of the head.  1, 2 and 3 seconds tick by in my confused noggin before I start to doubt my dismissal of the incident and respect for my curiosity allows me to turn my head back toward the darkness.  Now I’m not expecting to see anything or anyone, which is usually the case here.  But what barely materializes in my credible night vision is the full span of a ghostly grey owl, drafting my head by no more than 6 feet of distance.  Big round head with wings gracefully extended on either side of its bulk.

It doesn’t take me long to instinctively start to pedal my low geared single speed with greater cadence, until I feel i’ve outpaced the predator.  After looking back to confirm and seeing clean darkness, I break out into a mix of laughter and shouting in glee to myself.  A grin remains for the rest of my commute.

Woodland Creature Strikes again:

Not a couple weeks later, I’m taking the compost out to the worm bin in the dark gutter of our back yard.  The bin resides under a small flat roofed open shelter overhung with shedding maple branches.  As I’m bent over to close the bin, I get a weighted thud on my right shoulder blade.  It’s not the knock of a perpetrator looking to put me on the ground.  Though no less shocking, I let out a sort of yelp and look around for evidence of the impact.  As before, I have a moment to reflect and settle on the theory that a soft body has landed upon me... no claws, no squeak.  I’d swear it was a legless, headless, chubby woodland creature.  Just then, it scurries off through the leaves, unidentified. 

Stuck On The Sidewalk

I was walking down Broadway one day -- there is plenty of foot traffic going both ways on this sidewalk -- and the person coming towards me yawned.    Yawns are contagious of course, when someone yawns we want to yawn ourselves.  In fact it's hard not to yawn while writing this.  (Ooops, i just did!)

So the person walking towards me yawned, and then of course as they passed me, i yawned too.  But by then the next person walking southbound was in view, and she saw me yawn and by the time i passed her, she was yawning. 

There was another person walking a few feet behind me who must have seen her yawn.

It occurred to me that the yawn was stuck in one place on the sidewalk with people moving past it both ways.   The people were just the medium that supported the yawn, like the water in a river holding a log against a rock.  As long as the flow of people continued, the yawn would be stuck in that spot!

Recording LPs on my Computer.

[I get asked this question quite frequently, and i have a document prepared to respond, so i thought i'd post it here. Another post will cover my history, ideas, feelings and impressions about digital music.  This is just the techincial details of how to do it.]

connecting the computer

The key was setting up the computer so that it is just another component in my stereo system.

When i look at the audio selection on my stereo i have the following buttons:

    PHONO          CD              FM                AM           TAPE1              TAPE2-VIDEO/TAPE MONITOR

Each of those buttons controls a channel, that is, an audio feed.  There are plugs on the back of the amplifier each for channel.   PHONO and CD are input only channels, they receive audio from another source. The FM and AM radio channels are built into the amplifier so there are no plugs. 

TAPE1 and TAPE2 are also input channels, but there are two sets of plugs for two cables.  In addition to the input they have output plugs so that you can direct that audio elsewhere, usually to make a recording. 

I wired up the stereo like normal: the turntable is plugged into the PHONO input channel on the amplifier.  So when i choose PHONO, the sound from the LP playing on the turntable comes out of the speakers.  I wired up my reel to reel tape deck on the CD button.  I thought that was funny. 

My cassette deck is wired up on TAPE2.  The in channel works like all of the others.  The out channel on the amplifier always feeds from the cassette deck so if i start the tape recording, it will record what ever the stereo is currently playing.  That's how all tape decks are wired up.

Here's the interesting part.  On the channel for TAPE1 i connected the sound card on my computer.  It is also an in and out channel like the cassette deck so there are two cables.  The in channel works like all of the others.  The out channel on the amplifier comes from the computer so it will always feed what ever the stereo is currently playing.  (I built my own cables, but you can now buy cables at Radio Shack with a 3.5mm stereo jack that plugs into a sound card on one end, and a pair of RCA jacks for the stereo on the other end.) 

My computer is a tower unit that sits under my desk just below the stereo. It stays permanently connected.  There is no reason why you can't use this same set up with a laptop that is sometimes set on top of the stereo and plugged in just for that purpose.

So just like when i punch the FM button i hear the radio and when i choose the PHONO button i can hear the turntable, when i choose TAPE1, i can hear anything the computer is playing.  This is nice, because i can play music on the computer and it plays over my stereo, on either the speakers on my desk or the speakers in my living room.  I can also listen to books on tape, streaming audio or video from the internet directly on my stereo.

Here's the important part: because i set up the computer exactly as a tape deck on TAPE1, there is also a recording feed that goes out of the stereo and into the computer.  Whatever i play on the stereo feeds into the computer, just like with the tape deck. I have to tell a program to listen to it;  most of the time the computer ignores this incoming analog audio feed and nothing happens.

computer settings

The operating system manages where the sound comes from, (My computer runs Windows 7 so detailed explanations are based on that, but all operating systems can do this in a similar way.)  In Windows control panel selection SOUND, there is a pulldown menu to select which audio feed the computer is actively using: the MICROPHONE, the INTERNAL stereo mix (eg. internet streaming or a music program or even a CD) or LINE IN (which is the audio feed from the stereo).  When a feed is chosen, any application in the computer that has the ability to work with audio will receive audio from that feed, including recording.  I keep it set to LINE IN all the time.

If you don't one of these items in pull down right click  show and check show disabled devices, and also disconnected devices.   You can then enable the selection you want.  (LINE IN or STEREO MIX.)   You may have to get deeper into the settings for your sound card driver to initialize it. 

recording an LP

I have several pieces of software that are designed to record audio, i quite like AUDIOGRABBER, and i used it for many years, but the one i've been using lately is called AUDACITY.  It was written by a hobbyist in Germany and he gives it away free.   There are many others, some very advanced. 

This software takes the analog audio wave from the sound card and digitizes it, recording it into a computer file.  Rather than the analog wave of an LP or cassette tape, it stores it digitally, like a CD. (It breaks up the solid wave into 44,100 little bursts per second and stores a blueprint of the bursts so a facsimile of the wave can be recreated later by a digital music player.)

AUDACITY works exactly like the cassette deck works, only instead of encoding magnetically on the tape it stores the data digitally on the hard drive.  It even has a button panel designed to look like a tape deck, with play, stop, pause, record, rewind and fast forward buttons.    What's cool is that it also shows a visual representation of the wave and you can manipulate that wave using both what you hear, and the visual representation.   This makes editing fun and easy.  No more razor blades and scotch tape!

With that set up in place, recording is so easy i barely notice.  Any time i play an LP, for example, if i have people over, record it.   I just put on an LP, hit the PHONO button on the stereo, open AUDACITY and click the record button on the screen.  Usually i can do get the software going fast enough that it gets the start of the music.  (Sometimes i have to restart the needle on the record once AUDACITY is started.). Then i can work on what ever i like on the computer while the LP plays.  Often, if i'm writing, i keep the sound off while it records.  My old computer was too slow and i couldn't run any other programs while recording, but  my new (2013) computer can record and do everything else at the same time.

When the first side finishes, i flip the record. The turntable is at my right elbow when i'm sitting at my desk; i don't even pause the recording.  Double and triple albums i just keep the recording going while i change records. When the turntable stops, i mouse click the stop button in AUDACITY.

My current turntable is of mediocre quality.  It is important to have a good quality turntable, needle and cartridge and have it set up right (eg at the right speed).

splitting and cleaning up the recording

AUDACITY lets you edit the audio wave in all kinds of ways (which you can both hear, and see).  If i wanted to i could actually cut a verse from one song and insert it seamlessly into another.  I don't do that!   I cut out the sound of me turning over the record and the bits before and after the record started and finished.

Then, with one keystroke, i run a little software routine in AUDACITY which takes out the turntable's electrical hum, and then another which takes out most of the scratchy needle sound (which we only really hear between songs but is always there).   Even a moderate record can be cleaned up to sound immaculate - better than a CD!

Then i look at the visual wave and see if there are any pops and skips.  Most good condition LPs don't need this at all.  Sometimes i see one or two.  Some of these i can smooth out with another routine, but some i have to manually edit.  Since a pop on a record is usually only about 0.0003 seconds long, if you have steady fingers you can chop out the pop without losing any noticeable part of the music.  Of course you are taking out a little piece, and a bigger piece than that between the samples of digital storage, but still, usually it's not noticeable.  The smoothing done by the

automatic routines usually can't be heard, but sometimes if the damage to the record was severe the repair can make the music sound kind of computery.  My records are in good shape and there are rarely any, but some people have given me some pretty bad records which have come out sounding ok.  It only takes a minute or two to take out a couple of pops, but if the LP is in bad shape it might take a while.

Then i do a Google search for the album, find a list of track names and timings.  Wikipedia is the best resource, but there are other websites that strive to list the songs on every album ever made.  I use allmusic.com and discogs.com frequently.   There is also something called Free Database (Freedb) which will do the lookup automatically for you, but i've had trouble making it work.

When i find the correct album, i cut and paste the names and times into a little program i wrote which formats it and imports it into AUDACITY.  This takes about 30 seconds and prevents me from having to type the track names. AUDACITY uses this import to name each track and it also offers to chop the file in to separate songs at the boundaries indicated by the track timings i imported.  

These times are almost always slightly off.  I have found that the track times listed on album jackets, labels and on the websites are always a little bit off.  If they were always too long, or always too short, i would think that my turntable was not running at the right speed (AUDACITY can slow down or speed up a file, if necessary).  But the errors in lengths vary within the same LP, some too short, some too long.  It's strange.

So using the editing feature of AUDACITY, i look at each cut and move it to the appropriate place.  Usually this is easy and quick, but on some records where the songs blend into each other (or if i'm not familiar with the music) it can take some skill and time.  Once i am happy that the the boundaries are correct, i hit a key which converts the digital wave in AUDACITY into individual audio files (one for each song). 

storing the recorded file

There are lots of possible data formats the recording can be saved in.  MP3 is the standard, but not the only choice and certainly not the best quality. But even with MP3s there are lots of different levels of sound quality (based on how much data is squeezed into each of  the 45,000 samples per second).  Most MP3s are saved at a very poor level (96 or 128 kbs) which sounds awful, worse than a CD.  With the new computer and the new version of AUDACITY i can save not only at a much higher rate (about 300 kps) but it has a feature called VBR (variable bit rate) which figures out when there is not enough sound to need that much space and lowers the quality for that brief instant. Very nice!  Highest quality, keeping the file size down. It's very efficient with space but the quality, while not as good as an LP, is excellent for digital music.

So i save everything as an MP3 at the second highest VBR level, which varies between 96 & 320 kilobits per second. 

I put the individual files in a folder, name the folder with the name of the album.  Then i run a application ID-Tag IT which takes the song name data from the filename and saves it in a 'tag' inside the MP3 file.  That's what displays on your computer or MP3 player when you are listening to it. That's usually one click, but if something is a bit strange i might have to do some editing.   It also standardizes the filenames so all of the music filenames on my computer are in the same style, so they are easy to find and easy to sort.

Next i run an application called MP3Gain which 'normalizes' the volume levels for each song, so you don't have one song that's really loud and the next too quiet to hear.

Finally i place the album folder into a directory hierarchy on the computer, in my 'main collection' folder under the artist's name.  And drop and drag the album into into my random playlist. 

The LP goes back in it's sleeve and on the DONE shelf.

All of this post-processing takes about 5 to 7 minutes (during one song on the next LP) on an LP which is in really good shape.  On an old record which is really hard to find on the internet and/or is heavily damaged, it might take as much as 20 minutes (one side on the next LP).  Lately i've been managing about 50 LPs a week, while still getting work done.

                                                         

The Difference of An Odd Number

My friend Dave originally moved to Seattle because he was a serous mountain climber; later he became a bicyclist: first a racer, then a tourist and advocate.  I met him through bicycling, we ride together frequently.  Recently, after many years without climbing, he's been training hard for a major climb out of state.  When he invited me to join him and his wife Julie on a climb to Camp Muir i was extremely excited.

I'm pretty well traveled and i have covered a lot of the northwest.  Camp Muir is probably the most prominent location in the region that i've never been to.  Tahoma, Mount Rainier, looms over western Washington like a friend, or a benevolent parent.  At 14,410 feet, it is visible almost everywhere, views popping up around every corner; the surrounding mountains are 5,000 to 7,000 so it is head and shoulders above everything else. It is such an important part of the daily fabric of our lives here that most people just call it The Mountain.  Capitol T, Capitol M.  Most of the time we only see it from a great distance, 100 miles or more away.  The idea of spending a day on The Mountain, on snow, at elevation, was appealing.

I really liked the idea of undertaking this epic climb with my friends, but i was also worried.  I was certain i couldn't keep up with Dave.  He's been training seriously and is very fit.  I bicycle a lot, but actually i'm fat, old and out of shape.  (Since Dave & Julie are both older than me i guess i can't claim the old). In addition, Camp Muir is at 10,000 feet.  I've never hiked that high; and the last couple of times i've been up to 6,500 feet (Nadine's camp at Blewitt Pass) i've gotten a little altitude sickness.

I'm more of a hiker than a climber.  I enjoy experiencing the forest and the mountains immensely, but i have no need to bag peaks.  Hiking in the wilderness is the reason i decided to stay in Seattle 20 years ago and for ten years or so hiking was a regular, important, part of my life.  But sadly i have only been hiking once or twice a year for the last few years, and none of them were strenuous.  So this was something i was looking forward to.

On a Saturday at the very end of July, we started the day with a short, early morning hike through the city to the Zip Car followed by a long, frustrating, drive to the mountain.  It was cloudy and drizzly as we wove through the lightly populated foothills.  Every time i go down there i think about how wonderful it would be to have a train system.  Riding the train to Mount Rainier National Park would be the ideal way to go -- comfortable, relaxing, beautiful and available to all.

During the long drive, i  started to really worry that I didn't have enough clothing.  That was mostly because i don't hike frequently anymore. In the 1990s i kept a backpack ready to go, packed with all i would need for an overnight hike, so i could just grab it and go.  I couldn't forget anything, it was already packed!  Packing this time took some effort, collecting things from the hiking boxes and  bicycling clothing -- i wasn't extremely confident.

I wore a base layer, a wool shirt, hiking shorts and mountaineering boots with gators.  I also carried a heavy poly turtleneck, fleece vest, wool jacket, wool sweater, waterproof anorak, gloves, wool hat and rain paints.  I could've used another pants layer for emergencies: it can get very cold very quickly in at elevation.  In the end was just fine, but i spent some time stressing.  I like to pack for an uncomfortable unexpected overnight and i wasn't prepared for that; but i was well set for this hike, even if the weather turned. 

I wanted to take my smaller pack, i have two good day packs, a small one and a very large one.  The small one almost worked, but i couldn't figure a way to lash my ice axe to it, so i went with the big one.

As we approached The Mountain and began to gain elevation we drove out from under the clouds; when we entered the National Park at Ashford the bright morning sun was shining through the giant cedar trees, the thick, dark temperate rainforest cut with rays of bright sunshine occasionally reaching down to the ferns and salal.  It's really beautiful. We drove through the forest, along the raging Nisqually river, and then started going steeply up the mountain, higher and higher, eventually to 6,000 feet.

Although quite familiar, the view of Tahoma is so astonishing it's almost shocking.  We came out of the forest and suddenly realized we were working our way up the shoulder of a three mile high volcano!  All i can do when it comes into view is utter that powerful Salish native name:  Tahoma!

We parked at Paradise, the primary visitor's center for Mount Rainier National Park. It is a staggeringly gorgeous place. There aren't many places like that anywhere, but there are certainly none that you can drive to. Most require a multi-day hike. The air is thin and the tundra is gorgeous, filled with wildflowers in the short summer, and 10s of feet of snow in the winter. There are astonishing views of the mountain range all around, and, oh yeah, a giant volcano covered with 23 glaciers looms overhead!

Joe Tamura and i at Inspiration Point in Mount Rainier National Park 7-26-2012

I don't have a photo from Paradise that day, but i had just been to The Mountain on Thursday as a HAM radio operator on a bicycle event.  So here's a photo from two days previous of me with the bike mechanic i was working with. It was taken at Inspiration Point about 1,000 feet below Paradise.  The lenticular cloud, which is so characteristic of Tahoma, was not there the day of our climb.

It's hard to comprehend just how popular Paradise is.  I once saw a statistic that said that 2/3 of visitors to Mount Rainier National Park don't get more than 100 feet from their car and more than 1/3 never even step out of their car! 

At 8am on this sunny summer Saturday the parking lot at Paradise was already teeming with thousands of people, and most of the Seattle people had not yet arrived.  They come from Tacoma, from Seattle, and from other parts of the country and all around the world. We heard a half a dozen or more different languages.

The majority were probably just peeking into the visitor's center or taking a 20 minute walk. But many were there for a serious hike and a lot were hoping to summit the mountain. Reaching the summit is a multi-day undertaking and the place where most of those climbers spend the night is Camp Muir.  That's where we hoped to reach today.


We didn't waste any time.  We ate a little as we pulled our boots on, then quickly got our packs settled and walked off, heading up steeply.  Julie and i were going to be slower than Dave, but he was carrying more weight.  He told us he was carrying several gallons of water make his pack heavier for training.

The trail as it leaves Paradise is actually asphalt for the first half mile or so, before it turns to dirt.  It's a little odd walking (in hiking boots) on asphalt as you cross through the tundra, but it, and the rope barriers along the trail, are essential for the preservation of that glorious but fragile area, considering the astonishing amount of foot traffic that it gets.  There is an old climbers aphorism that Dave shared with us that says that the number of people on the trail decreases with the square of the distance and the cube of the elevation.  Lots of people at first, very quickly the least fit turn back, soon almost everyone does.  The thing i've noticed in the past is the litter.  The closer you are to a trail head, the more candy wrappers you see.  When you are REALLY close you see cigarette butts. 

I felt the low oxygen immediately.  I had a pack and big boots, so i was working harder than in the city, and the elevation gain was very significant.  But the oxygen level at Paradise is about 75% or 80% of sea level and with every step the air was getting thinner.  Luckily i didn't  get any of the symptoms of altitude sickness that i was worried about.

Very quickly, before we even got off the asphalt, we all stopped to take off our jackets.  A few minutes later i changed into my wool shirt and didn't really change any layers for the rest of the day.  We didn't put on sun screen in the parking lot, but we all did at that first stop just a short way up the trail. The sunscreen, hat and sunglasses were essential for this hike.  Of course it is required on the snow, it's dangerous without, but even those first couple of hours the sun was very intense.

Just below Panorama Ridge we saw a marmot. No surprise that it blended in well with the tundra. I wouldn't have noticed if Julie didn't point it out. It was very cute when it looked up at us. I think it was smaller than the one i saw in the Olympics with my brother. (The Olympic Marmot is Washington State's official endemic mammal!) I like marmots.

As usual, click on any photo to see it full size.

A Marmot on the tundra at Mt Rainier

The Marmot looks at the camera

Paul staring down a Marmot above Heart Lake in the Olympic Mountains, August 1995.

The first 3 miles, climbing 1,900 feet, was on dirt trails along sharp ridgelines through gorgeous tundra: thick heather sprinkled with colorful wild flowers. We tried to identify the different wild flowers, and occasionally asked other hikers for flower names. We were gaining elevation so fast, every few minutes we would encounter a different set of flowers, later bloomers. Over the course of the three hours up to the snow field we probably went through 4 or more entirely different levels of flower species. It was cool.

The dirt trails are fairly narrow (and so are the paths through the snowfield). We occasionally had to step aside while people passed us going up, or we passed people. We also had to make way for people going down. Before the snowfield the only people coming down were people who had attempted the summit overnight and not made it. One group told us that they turned around before the summit because they had a problem with altitude sickness.

Panorama Ridge

It is a truly special place to be and i felt honored to be there.  You stand in this wide open space with sky on one side of you and the cone of Tahoma on the other.  It's hard to believe you are really there.  There is a spiritual strength that comes from being in a place like that.

Step by step we climbed higher and higher.  Occasionally we would hear a strong low rumble which could've been confused with thunder.  It fired off alarm bells for me from my days hiking these mountains.  I was sure it was an avalanche.  The first couple of times it happened i stopped to survey the slopes above us and to the sides, but i didn't see any evidence.  After the third big rumble Dave pointed out that it was probably the giant Nisqually Glacier moving; groaning, breaking and scraping as it very, very slowly slides downhill!   

Mt Rainier, Julie, Dave at Glacier Vista

The glacier was laid out in front of us, up and to our left.  It was a majestic sight

The Mountain is amazing -- so big, so close, it really feels like you can touch it.  I stared at it and i felt certain i could just scamper up to the summit.  It looked like it would take about 15 minutes.  It's deceiving because Tahoma is just so astonishingly big.  At that point it was still almost three MILES away and more than 7,000 feet above us but it didn't feel like it.  It felt close.

Near the end of the Pebble Creek trail, just below the start of the Muir Snowfield we saw another marmot, and this one was glissading!  While we were walking by a patch of snow on the steep ridge, the marmot walked off the rocks, onto the snow, and belly flopped down on to the snow, and then spread it's legs.  I suspect it was just cooling off in the intense sun, but it looked like it was trying to have fun sliding down the slope!

Marmot bellyflop

trying to glissade?

All photos enlarge.  Click on these photos to see the marmot better.

We were all feeling pretty good when we got to the snowfield at 7,300 feet  I pulled out my ice axe and started up the steps that had been kicked by many people ahead of us. We followed the boot tracks.

The sun was hot and the snow was pretty soft, not terribly slippery.  The trail was marked by occasional orange flags.  Visibility was excellent today, but if weather closed in, and it can do so fast on this mountain, those flags would be our only guide. We took tiny steps.  I had been doing a little pressure breathing before the snowfield, but now I started in earnest.  This is a mountaineering practice where you exhale strongly, emptying your lungs, which then forces a big lungful of fresh air into your lungs.  It really works.  You could hear people around you doing it.

We were not alone, and i'm not talking about the marmots. We were told at Paradise that Camp Muir averages 900 people a day, and even more in July -- that's easy to believe with what we saw on this warm weekend.  There were surely many more than that on the trail we took up the snowfield, and below the snow line two easier trails split off: The Skyline Trail and The Panorama Ridge trail.  Each of those trails had at least as many people on them.  There were lots of people coming up, some poorly prepared in jeans and tennis shoes others with major expedition packs ready for an overnight and an attempt at the summit tomorrow or the next day.  Some were in teams, some alone, some going at their own pace, others with a group leader urging them on.  People were very supportive of each other, offering encouragement and conversation.  I don't know how to say this appropriately, but I was blown away by how many extremely good looking women were on the mountain.

While we never felt overwhelmed by people, there were always many people around us and looking down, or up, we could see a lot of people climbing the snowfield.  At times it almost looked like we were heading up the Chilikoot Trail, like in the legendary historic photo.

Chilikoot trail photo from late 1890s taken from Wikipedia

We were taking it seriously, it's a difficult, potentially dangerous hike. Backpacker Magazine called it one of the 10 most dangerous because of it's accessibility, difficulty and extreme, sudden weather.  A week after our hike, a body was pulled out of the snowfield right around where we got up onto it.  The climber had been caught in a storm in January.

I was going pretty slowly.  It was very hard.  Most of the Muir snowfield is a 30% grade, with some areas reaching 40%.  The climb itself was hard, but the low oxygen was a huge challenge.  Although i felt a little bad about holding him back, Dave stayed with me until just before lunch when he wanted to get in a bit of a sprint to test his fitness.  We picked a rock outcropping where we would eat and he sped ahead, with me and Julie plodding along slow and steady behind.  I appreciated Julie's support.  It's so much easier (and more fun) to hike with someone else, and in that hour before lunch i was really starting to struggle.  I started to wonder if i was going to make it all the way.

We stopped on the rocks for lunch; this was at about 8,200 feet elevation.  It was a welcome rest.  We'd been on the trail about 4 hours at that point.  I wolfed down my sandwich and shared my cookies with Dave and Julie as well as the people around us, one of who took our photo.  I was trying to conserve water enough to make it last the day, but i drained one bottle at lunch. 

Lunch at 8,200 feet.

It was very warm, none of us needed a jacket during the break.  Before we set out again we did all make an effort to put on more sunscreen.  I hate the stuff and try to avoid using it as much as i can, but there was no way around it today.  I tried to make sure i got full coverage including places i wouldn't normally think of: back of neck, under my chin, legs, backs of knees.  There were more than a few people on the mountain who had their whole head wrapped in a turban leaving only glasses and mouth visible.  I think that was a good idea! 

Lunch felt too short even at 35 minutes.  I was tired and wanted more rest, but mostly I wanted to catch my breath and at that elevation I just couldn't do that.  I did give Dave some weight from my pack, some food and clothing, to help his training.  (Actually to lighten my load!  I really appreciated it.)

When we set off again Dave and Julie got well ahead of me and for 15 minutes or so i was going it alone.  Most of the day we stayed together but at this point i was struggling.  Before lunch i had been taking a lot of short (3 minute) breaks so afterwards i started trying to rest for 3 or 4 seconds every 8 or 10 steps, just trying to keep a steady pace.

However, quite soon after lunch I started to reach my limit.  I became more and more certain that I wasn't going to make it all the way.  I was ok with that.  I could see another rock outcropping ahead.  After that it appeared to be a right turn and a long slog up and over the ridge.  Several people had said that once over that ridge you could see Camp Muir but it was an hour away.  I decided that I would stop at the outcropping ahead and wouldn’t continue beyond, that...  I just didn't have it in me. 

I couldn't believe how weak the low oxygen made me. I really needed a break,  Dave and Julie waited for me, which i was very grateful for, but once we were moving together again i did feel like i was holding them back.  Julie insisted my pace was the pace she wanted to go, and Dave was just testing his fitness so he didn't feel a need to go faster.  I was just pushing on.  It was one of the hardest things i've ever done in my life. 

By this time i was really focusing on 6 steps and rest.  Six steps, breathe on each step.  Six steps then 4 seconds rest, six steps, rest.  I was pretty thrilled to make that rock outcrop i that had seen so far away;  i figured this might be my end point.  The view was astonishing from that elevation.  Mount Adams was well above the clouds and a lot of the sawtooth peaks of the Tattosh range were visible far below us.  We rested on the rocks, ate cookies and they convinced me to continue.

Dave went out ahead a little, and Julie and i continued, 6 steps and rest, 6 steps and rest.  But i was really getting exhausted.  About 15 minutes after our break my legs actually gave out.  They involuntarily crumpled and i just fell down on the snow.  I didn't slide much, but i collapsed.  I rested a bit and I was very pleased that Julie waited with me.  I wanted badly to make it to Camp Muir, and i didn't care about being slow.  But i just didn't think i could do it.

Julie really encouraged me.  She got me to continue.  When I started walking again, i decided to do five steps instead of six.  This made a huge difference!  Breathe on each step, five steps then rest for 5 seconds; five more steps, pressure breathing, rest.  As i got into this pattern, i thought of something my amazing NOLS instructor Glenn Goodrich had taught me in Alaska in 1992:  i started locking my knee on that short rest every fifth step. 

That made all the difference in the world.  Within 10 minutes I was feeling stronger and not needing to take the regular 3 minute breaks.  I was on a steep slope.  Each 5 second rest was with my weight on my downhill leg.  The odd number of steps meant that I was resting on a different leg each time so each leg got rested equally.  With an even number of steps, i was always standing on the same leg!  Locking my knee shifted my weight to my skeleton and off my muscles.  Even just a few seconds taking the weight off gave my muscles, and lungs, an important rest.  I kept saying "Thank You Glen Goodrich!" out loud.  I didn't have the breath to explain it to Julie until later.

Julie takes in the majesty of Tahoma

Five steps.  Rest.  Five steps.  Rest.  It was hard work, but i was much more comfortable.  Julie kept up the same pace, I held her back a little, but mostly we kept the same pace. And although I didn't pass many people and a lot of people passed me, I have to say that an awfully lot of people were going about the same pace as me and some turned back.  Dave was chomping at the bit and got ahead of us a couple times but mostly we all stayed together.

We didn't ever make that right turn that we were all expecting, and that worried me because i knew it was still an hour, or more, past that right turn.  As we ascended further a small black building came in to view.  It didn't look like what i thought Camp Muir would look like and Dave said it didn't look at all like he remembered it from his summit ascent years ago.  I asked Dave if there was a chemical toilet on that ridge like there is on Panorama Ridge.  He said he didn't remember it, but it was possible.  We discussed it a little, with what little breath we had, but we all assumed it was a new toilet on the ridge we had to go over. 

That meant Camp Muir was at least a hour more from when we finally reached that distant point.  I was walking easier, but i also knew there was no way i was going to make it past that ridge and no convincing was going to change that.  It would be great to get to Camp Muir, but that ridge was my end point, if i even made that.  I'd wait there for them while they covered the last hour or so.  We pushed on, the three of us together, resting for about 5 seconds every 5 or 7 steps, sometimes even 11, but always odd numbers.  By this point the oxygen was only 67% of what it is at sea level.  I have small lungs. 

For over an hour we slowly approached the black structure, all continuing to discount any idea that it could be our destination.  As we got to within a few hundred yards we saw some tents out on the snow.  This suggested that this might actually be Camp Muir, but even then I didn't get my hopes up.  Dave went ahead to check it out for us, and he quickly left us behind.

Julie and i continued, probably another half an hour of 5-steps-and-rest.  When I was about 50 yards away i realized that i really had made it to Camp Muir!  I was thrilled.  I thought for a second about just sprinting on in.  That did not work.  Five steps, and rest, the whole way in.  We had ascended 4,700 feet, almost 3,000 on snow.  It was 3 pm, so it had taken about 7 hours.  I was very happy to be there.

I made it to Camp Muir!

Dave came down to meet us and we walked up on to the rocky ridgeline that is Camp Muir.  It's not as protected as i expected.  A high rock formation on the south (my right) and the upslope on the north, but really just a ridge. You are really in climbers territory here.  Rope teams are required beyond camp and even within camp on the other side of the ridge.

You must rope up beyond Camp Muir.

There are two low stone buildings that i wish i had had the presence of mind to take a photo of; they are very pretty, . One is a partially enclosed public shelter that can sleep about 2 dozen people, the other is a storage unit for a mountaineering guide service.  The black thing we'd been seeing is an ugly black shipping container used for storage and scientific instruments.  They are hoping to replace it.  A compact 'A' frame is a private shelter.  There are also a handful of toilets.  Everything is helicoptered in or out, including the waste from the toilets.  In the deep snowfield on the other side of the ridge were lots and lots of tents, many almost completely buried by drifting snow. There were 2 or 3 hundred people at Camp Muir: resting, setting up camp, practicing rope teams, sleeping.

I was proud of my accomplishment.  I was really thrilled to be there, it was a new place for me and true northwest credibility!   Despite the difficulty, i really enjoyed the climb.  And the view is unparalleled.

Julie at Camp Muir with Mount Adams and the Tattosh Range

Once we were up on the ridge at Camp Muir, Dave pulled out a watermelon!  He had carried a watermelon all the way up the mountain.  It was a small one, but still, what a great thing to do!!  I think his climb in Wyoming will go fine, he's fit!  He cut it open and we sat at 10,200 feet eating watermelon taking in the view!  It was amazing. 

Dave carried a watermelon to 10,200 feet!

Mark, Dave & Julie eating watermelon at Camp Muir!

We spent about an hour relaxing on the ridge and taking in the view.  We were quite comfortable up there in our long sleeve hiking shirts.  If i had to guess the temperature i would've said about 75.  None of us put on jackets.  When i got home i checked the data from the Camp Muir weather station and it was 43 degrees between 3 and 4pm.  The sun was just so intense, the radiated heat made it feel much warmer.  We were lucky the infamous wind did not kick up.  It not only would've made hiking harder, but it would've gotten very cold very fast.

Mount Adams and the Tattosh Range from Camp Muir.

I would've loved to stay there, and it would be great fun to sleep there, but we had a major descent to make and i was already near complete exhaustion. We made sure to put more sunscreen on.  Julie considered not and i encouraged her to do so.  The thin air, intense sun and reflection off the snow will just burn you up.

After climbing 3,000 feet up a snowfield, you kind of want to glissade down -- slide on your butt.  You feel like you've earned it.  And it gets you down really fast.  That was a big reason why I brought the rain paints.  I put them on and as soon as i was back on the snow, i sat down.  I didn't move at all.  I had my ice axe in self arrest position, which also works as a rudder, but i wasn't sliding.

When you think about it, there is a formula that you could calculate for glissading.  The slope steepness has to exceed the snow stickiness.  It didn't.  I started trying to push myself with the ice axe, but it was like rowing a boat.  Pushing myself through the snow was much more tiring than just walking, and i was already whipped.  I gave up quickly and stood up.  Julie did too.  Dave didn't try to glissade because he wanted to walk the full distance for his test of climbing fitness. An alternative to glissading is plunge steps:  leaning down slope and driving your heal into the soft snow creating a stride much longer, perhaps 2 or three times as long as a normal stride. I started plunge stepping down from Camp Muir.

The slope was so steep in places that it looked like a cliff.  Dave, ahead of us, appeared to be standing on the precipice, but was actually just walking downhill.

Dave descends the Muir snowfield

Mostly we plunge stepped, but Julie and i kept trying and trying to glissade.  I probably tried about ten or eleven times.  Part of the problem was that the snowfield was wide and there were dozens of trails where people had glissaded, or tried to.  If everyone had slid down the same trail it would've made a fast, deep, icy track like a bobsled run.  But they didn't.  However, three or four times, mostly down low where the snow field gets narrow (and lots of people used the same tracks) i got some good, fast, long glissades.  Still not like the screaming descents i'm familiar with from Mount Ellinor, but a big help covering the distance down the snowfield.  And lots of fun!

Dave stayed ahead of us, making faster progress for the first half of the snowfield, but we passed him, sliding fast, on the lower part.  Towards the bottom of the snowfield, visibility started to become a concern.  The sun was still really intense, but the cloud layer below, that we had driven out of hours ago, was rising and could potentially rise enough to overwhelm us.  That meant that keeping aware of the boot tracks, but especially the (rather sparse) trail blaze flagging became very important.  Also, since my GPS had recorded our climb up the snowfield, we would've been able to use it to follow the same path down should visibility drop to zero, but you never want to depend on a GPS unit, especially at that kind of elevation.

The bottom of the snowfield.

The clouds reached us right as we got to the bottom of the snowfield, we were pretty socked in for the rest of the descent.   There were even more people on the trail, mostly coming up, in the afternoon.  And all of them were unprepared for hiking.  Despite looking bedraggled and completely exhausted, or maybe because of it, we got stopped and asked for directions or advice half a dozen times, which we were happy to help with.  Of course the mountain was not visible at that point so when these tourists asked, we pointed to where it would've been seen if the clouds were not there. I love the clouds, but i did feel bad for the tourists. I can't imagine having to imagine that mountain.  It far exceeds anything the imagination can create.

The square of the distance and cube of the elevation.  We could tell how close to the parking lot we were getting as the crowds grew larger, and the shoes got worse.  Pretty soon we could see candy wrappers, and then, even cigarettes.  Now we KNEW we were close! 

The last mile, down a steep hill on asphalt trail, took a lot of motivation. I was really, really ready to be done.  I just pictured a short walk in my neighborhood, a mile to the ice cream shop, and followed it block by block in my head.

We were happy to get down into the crowd at the parking lot at Paradise, almost exactly 11 hours after leaving.  We refilled water bottles, (the soft ones were crushed as if by a giant hand!). We threw away the garbage we had collected on the hike -- and i even turned in a shoe and a couple of other things to the Rangers for a potential lost and found.

Dave didn't have much sunburn, but Julie's face was very burned.  I was mostly in good shape, but there were are a few places i missed.  I missed the sides of my knees, and got a little sunburn there.  I missed the backs of my hands and had a small patch of sunburn there.  And i didn't put sunscreen insides my ears; i got the tops and outsides, but not the insides!  They were so badly burned my ears were misshapen for a couple of days.

The GPS map says we walked 9.3 miles and climbed 4,700 feet.  I wore a pedometer that counted my steps, and it said i walked enough steps for 16.5 miles!   The difference is because my steps were so small when climbing. When glissading, i missed a lot of steps, and my plunge steps were longer than usual, i probably took enough steps to, at a normal stride, walk 18 miles!

Julie drove us back to Seattle.  I was extremely tired.  I was very glad i didn't have to drive. I still wished it was a train, none of us would have had to drive tired...  Wouldn't it be great to be able to play cards, eat, and nap on the train ride home?  The car ride was long and i was happy to get home. I could barely get out of the car (my legs failed on the first attempt).  I really appreciated the thick gooey air filled with oxygen!  I slept a long time, and i felt fine the next day. I could feel it in my legs a little, but just walking the neighborhood stretched that out.

My Happy Travel Shirt

Before setting out for my year long trip to Europe in 1999 i needed a shirt.  I didn't want to take one of my favorite shirts, because i knew i would destroy it wearing it every day for a year.  But i wanted to have a shirt i liked, a shirt that was comfortable.  Since i would only have one long sleeve shirt, it needed to be very flexible. One that was casual and yet could pass for kind of a little dressed up if needed.and good in different temperatures.

I figured i was looking for nice a rubgy shirt.

I love the used clothing store, but i do dread shopping for used clothes.  It's even more time consuming and frustrating that shopping for new clothes because you usually have to search long racks of clothing and try on dozens of items to find one or two that are going to work.  Don't get me wrong, i'm thrilled to have these great used clothing stores near by and i get almost all of my clothing from them; it's just that it can be tiring and frustrating as a shopping session stretches into infinity.  I try to hang in there as it seems like it will never end, although it's only an hour and a half or so.

So on Yellow Pig Day, (July 17th), 1999 (which  from 1984 to 2002 was consistently my lucky day!) i headed up to the then recently opened Value Village in the old REI flagship store location, determined to hang in there as long as it took, and find a shirt that was going to work.

I walked in, went up the stairs, and walked along the racks for my size.  Without really breaking pace i pulled 5 or 6 shirts that looked like they would work and took them to the mirror.   I tried them on quickly, two were decent, one i liked a lot, a green and blue striped shirt.  I tried it again, it felt right, i walked downstairs and bought it.  Less than 5 minutes, and SCORE!

This was a GREAT shirt while i was traveling.  I wore it every day.  I wore it to dinner parties and working on the farm, on trains, in churches, hiking and even, once or twice, to bed.  It was comfortable, durable, flexible, kept me warm and looked good on me.

Of course the trip was amazing. It turned into 14 months and is filled with many of my happiest memories.  I still have that shirt.  It's pretty tattered around the edges and looks heavily worn, but when i'm feeling a little down, i put it on and i have a good day.

BMW

To the guy who passed me at speed with less than an inch clearance on a tight residential street:

You know people are laughing at you, right?

When you buy the Ultimate Driving Machine, and then actually drive it as if you yourself were in a TV commercial: cartoonishly fast, with complete disregard for laws, conditions or other people, it makes people think that you actually believe the advertising.  And only children believe advertising.  That's one of the definitions of growing up.

When you demonstrate that level of childishness and foolishness what else can normal people do but laugh and feel sorry for you?

How to get away with murder.

I often get frustrated at how we, in this society, tend to forgive an enormous amout of behavior that would be criminal if any object other than an automobile were used.  Crimes that would inspire public revulsion and a long maximum sentence are virtually ignored if the weapon is car.  It's not unusual for people who KILL pedestrians or cyclists to be given no sentence at all.  Sometimes you can kill multiple people and go scott free.

A couple of years ago a driver with MULTIPLE tickets killed a pedestrian in West Seattle.  The police did not ticket the driver.  Although he was speeding and ran a red light and the DA declined to press charges.  They said that since he was a father, a religious leader and a 'moral' man he should be forgiven.  He'd killed someone and there was a pattern of behavior that predicted it!!

Unfortunately for him, although he used the correct weapon for murder, he killed an important person, the aide to a city council member.  The council insisted that the county file charges.  He had a trial (he hit another person between the murder and the trial and got a speeding ticket DURING the trial!)  He was found guilty and given a suspended sentence. No jail time at all. A spree of violence and a cold blooded murder and no jail time.  Chilling?  What's worse is that this violent terror did not lose his driving privileges at all.

I think we've got to stop the special exceptions for assault, battery and murder that go easy on someone if a car is the weapon.  I've ranted about it for years.  I've been wanting to do a blog post on it for 15 years. I've never had the right words, calm enough but strong enough.  Insightful and clear enough to force the paridm shift away from the typical car-head perspective.

We had a terrible crime last year when a cyclist was killed and the driver drove off.  That driver was finally caught and confessed this week after yet another hit and run.  Unfortunately, the maximum sentence allowable for this murder is only 41 months.  The law is so lenient solely because of the weapon used. The prosecution is soliciting letters from the community to give to the judge to help with the sentencing.

I wrote something very quick.  While i don't think it's very good, at least it's to the point.

 Here's what i wrote:

This kind of crime makes people angry.  And it should. It makes me very very angry.

What i WANT is for this guy to be locked up forever and throw away the key.  But that doesn't help anyone or change anything.  That's emotion talking.  It's anger, it's revenge.  It doesn't help me, or him.  Nor does it help or society in general, which is, after all, the point.

What IS important is that he DOES NOT drive anymore.  That is what makes a difference; that is what is important to me, and for that matter that is what is important for society.   It's better for the city of Seattle that this person does not drive a car. And it's good for him too.

Personally, i think he should NEVER be allowed to drive a car again, and that would be my strong vote.  But again, putting emotion aside and trying to think logically, i would suggest a very long license suspension, 4 years at the very minimum, probably much more.  Suspend his driving privileges and give him an ORCA card.  Make his probation dependent on not driving a car. 

And then make it very public that this extremely dangerous driver will be prevented from driving.   That might work as a detergent for future murderers.  And if he IS ever allowed to drive again, he should have to undergo some sort of strong training in safe driving before his privileges are restored.

I don't think it's very well written, or expresses my thoughts well. Now i know it's odd to link to a COMMENT in a blog post,  (Normally all comments on the internet are a good argument for why the internet is idiotic.) but user merlin on Seattle Bike Blog posted their letter in the comments.   It's exceptionally well written.  This is it.  It is what i wish i had said:

We have a parallel case going to trial in Seattle soon:
A 20-year-old man was charged Friday with second-degree murder in the shooting of Justin Ferrari, a father who was driving with his family in the Central District when he was struck by a stray bullet. The suspect, Andrew J. Patterson of Federal Way, was arrested Thursday and booked into the King County Jail. He faces up to 23 years in prison if convicted.

Mr. Patterson did not intend to kill Justin Ferrari. He recklessly fired a shot across the street where Ferrari was driving. He fled the scene, and was eventually tracked down by the police. He is charged, appropriately, with second degree murder, with a possible sentence of 23 years in prison.

Mr. Garcia-Reyes did not intend to kill Michael Wang. He recklessly propelled a dangerous vehicle across the street where Wang was riding. He fled the scene, and was eventually tracked down by the police. He is charged with felony hit and run, with a maximum sentence of 41 months.

Mr. Garcia’s crime is just as serious as Mr. Patterson’s, although it is treated much less seriously by the law. He should receive the maximum sentence. Mr. Patterson, if convicted, will be prohibited from owning a gun. Mr. Garcia-Reyes should be prohibited from driving a car.

These punishments do not even begin to make good the harm caused by these men’s actions. In a just world, Mr. Garcia-Reyes would be required to spend the rest of his life riding a bicycle and teaching classes to automobile drivers about the awesome responsibility that comes with driving.

In addition, Mr. Garcia-Reyes should be required to provide restitution to Mr. Wang’s family in whatever form the family requests.