Every walk tells a story

Author: chris (Page 15 of 17)

the last day of spring

Walking Project 023_shadows – Cucamonga Peak via Middle Fork from chris worland on Vimeo.

Bumble bees feast on

wild sage, yuccas in full bloom

Hot last day of spring

 

On this day, the eve of the summer solstice, Death Valley recorded temperatures of 127 ºF. That’s only 7ºF short of the hottest recorded temperatures on earth-56.7°C (134°F), 7/10/1913, Death Valley. Meanwhile, skiers are still hitting the slopes in the Sierras, thanks to a record snowpack. To celebrate, I went for a strenuous ramble. The idea was to gain altitude  to find lower temperatures and, barometric pressure willing, a mountain breeze. According to this New York Times article, I should have prepared beforehand. A new study seems to have found that acclimation–performing workouts in high temperatures for five days leading up to your event–yields the best results. There’s another method though, that’s a lot more fun. You precool your body by wearing frozen underwear.

“Blue Monk” in the city – Downtown Chicago part 2

There is so much talent out there in the world, it often spills into the streets. When ramblers like myself stumble upon buskers like Preyas Roy, I see it as a gift from the universe. A gift I gladly accepted. Preyas obliged my request and filled the busy intersection with the spirit of my favorite Monk composition, “Round Midnight”, his vibraphone overpowering car horns, engines revving, sirens, crowd chatter, ‘L’ trains clattering under your feet and all the noisy paraphernalia that crowd the urban soundscape. In keeping with the ‘blues’ theme of the day, I asked if they–Preyas was now joined by Antoine Washington and Dewan Washington (hope I spelled the names correctly!)–knew any songs with ‘blue’ in the title. Another gift. Captured in the video. Thank you!

Turns out Preyas Roy has quite a following and resume and a slew of youtube videos, as well as an attitude to match his generous playing.

“I play all day. I literally play, then I eat a sandwich and I smoke a cigarette — and then I play some more. That’s what I do all day. I do what I love. It’s awesome. And I really love the intensity of it. All the noise and chaos of being downtown sort of forces you to dig really hard and find the zone. It’s a challenge you wouldn’t have normally onstage if people came to listen to you; you’re sort of automatically focused and everyone is sort of focused for you.”

‘I Do What I Love’: Meet Preyas Roy, ‘Xylophone Guy’, 

Mary Fons, fnewsmagazine, February 13, 2017,.

Here’s also a NPR interview.

 

Walking Project 021_chicago blues pt2 from chris worland on Vimeo.

blues in the city – Downtown Chicago part 1

This day in the windy city began with a visit to the Museum of Contemporary Art(MCA), which houses a special exhibit by Takashi Murakami, “The Octopus Eats its Own Leg”. One of his early works on display is a large multi panel textured canvas covered with ultramarine, reputedly a very expensive pigment made from grinding the semi-precious stone lapis lazuli. The description of the painting, whose title I did not write down, relates that Murakami painted it after getting his first major commission, to celebrate his ‘success’ by indulging in this lush, vibrant, almost excessive, blue paintfest, just because he could now afford it.

Filled with poppy, colorful imagery, Arhat, mythical Japanese sea creatures and DOB’s , I decided to walk down Michigan ave, from the MCA to the AIC, the Art Institute of Chicago. I had time, and the weather was steady-gorgeous, blue skies, temps in the seventies, slight breeze. A conveniently posted city map indicated I could travel along the lakeshore and therefore ditch the high end commercial strip of Michigan ave. Nuff said, any action that ditches anything commercial is bound to be a good idea.

The first color that struck me was red, because of some sign or other, and the Murakami reproductions adorning the exterior of the MCA. At the time, they seemed dominantly red. Thankfully, a mural painted on the lakeshore end of a pedestrian tunnel reminded me that in Chicago, it had to be blues.

“Oh! Baby don’t you want to go

Oooh! Baby don’t you want to go

Back to the land of California, my sweet home Chicago…”

Sweet Home Chicago, Robert Johnson

listen to Robert Johnson’s version of this classic blues paean to the Great Migration, a chapter in American history described by Isabel Wilkerson in “The Warmth of Other Suns”:

“Over the course of six decades, some six million black southerners left the land of their forefathers and fanned out across the country for an uncertain existence in nearly every other corner of America. The Great Migration would become a turning point in history. It would transform urban America and recast the social and political order of every city it touched. It would force the South to search its soul and finally to lay aside a feudal caste system. It grew out of the unmet promises made after the Civil War and, through the sheer weight of it, helped push the country toward the civil rights revolutions of the 1960s.

In Chicago alone, the black population rocketed from 44,103 (just under three percent of the population) at the start of the Migration to more than one million at the end of it. By the turn of the twenty-first century, blacks made up a third of the city’s residents, with more blacks living in Chicago than in the entire state of Mississippi.”

The Warmth of Other Suns, Isabel Wilkerson

Here’s a more contemporary rendition. , from a time when presidents had class. Feels like a billion years ago.

Walking Project 021_chicago blues pt1 from chris worland on Vimeo.

 

The life and death of a few pine trees

When I reached the summit of Mount San Jacinto, I’d reached phase seven. I was so tired, I lunched and dozed off almost immediately under a thick, twisted old pine. Voices from other hikers engaged in lively conversation a mere twenty yards away, drifting into my slumbered imagination. But first, let me explain the phase thing.

Every strenuous hike I’ve done can be broken up into six phases:

  1. Oh, Hey! Let’s GO!–start.
  2. Why am I doing this?–about a mile in, especially if there is substantial elevation gain.
  3. Oh. Hey! Let’s continue–two and half/three miles already? This isn’t too bad.
  4. I can see the summit/the halfway mark. Nothing is going to keep me from reaching it, not even my burning quads, sore knees and ankles or begging lungs.
  5. Oh YEAH! Top of the world Ma!–summit.
  6. The return–basking in glory but can’t wait to get back.

Next thing you know, I was imagining, or just dreaming, a short story that can be summarized as:

The parallel tale of :

  1. a hiker who takes a nap in the shade of a limber pine, at the summit of Mount san Jacinto, and dreams of arguing with the President who wants to develop a resort on the spot, and chop down a lot of trees in the process.
  2. A German immigrant lumberjack working in the San Jacinto wilderness in the 1880’s who falls asleep leaning against a ponderosa pine he jut felled. In his dreams, he runs into a bear who scares him to death.

It’s a work in progress.

 

Walking Project 020_pine cycle – Mt San Jacinto from chris worland on Vimeo.

San Ber’dino changes

A common feature of any walk in the local mountains (San Gabriels, San Bernardino, San Jacinto), if it involves a fair amount of elevation gain, is the changing landscape.  You may start by walking through lush, shaded oak, alder and sycamore canyons, then traverse the chaparral, dominated by manzanita, continuing through pine forest and finally reaching summits populated by gnarly, weather beaten limber pines stubbornly clinging to the rocky terrain.

Like chord changes in a tune these transitions are merely a loose structure that nature gladly improvises on, giving each walk its own flavor, its own colors, its own mood.

Here’s an unexpected transition: Check out the changes in this Frank Zappa song, entitled, not so coincidentally, “San Ber’dino”.

The guide I used for this hike.

Walking Project 019_up changes from chris worland on Vimeo.

Favorite spot in the Angeles Front Country – San Gabriel/Markham/Lowe

One of my favorite places in the Angeles Front Country is the eastern edge of Mt Markham. The trail doesn’t appear on a lot of maps, but I’ve been visiting the spot regularly for many years. The easiest way to get there is from the Eaton saddle on the Mt Wilson Red Box road, past the locked gate, taking the Mt Lowe fire road that skirts the south face of San Gabriel Peak going through the Mueller Tunnel. You get a bird’s eye view of the tunnel once you reach the spot, but take a step too many and you will fall to a certain death, down the eastern cliff edge of Markham, to the upper reaches of Eaton Canyon, approximately eight hundred feet below. The south face is just as daunting. It’s a dramatic vista point made all the more special by a convenient large rock that sits like a table or bench inviting the passerby to rest for a moment, and take in the spectacle.

Speaking of spectacle, the Mueller tunnel is also a stage in this performance.

Walking Project 017_tunnel visions from chris worland on Vimeo.

Walking into the clouds – Cucamonga Peak

The fog rolled up the canyon

Cold, wet, swift and foreboding

All the creatures in the forest

At once heeded the warning

 

For every living soul surely knew

When the hills disappear from view

Thorny, bug-eyed, spiky beasts

Fill the forest floor with fear

 

The warm-blooded brown lizard

Felt his temperature dropping

Sensible, he scurried silently

Into a rotting tree trunk

 

The mighty black working ant

Veered off the scented line

To await the gloom passing

In the warm folds of a burnt pine

 

Equally frightened, the chipmunk

Clinging to a stricken weary giant

Went into hiding, chirping on the downbeat

A meek repetitive deterrent chant

 

Lazily the brave scarlet ladybug

Wise and confident of the storm’s passing

Opted not to fly away home

But drug its carapace to safety

 

The creek became a raging torrent

The breeze swelled into gale

Shadows melted into thick icy air

Not silent but full of dread

 

Flirting and fluttering high above this drama

The raven cawed a fantastic warning

Which, to the beasts below

Sounded like he was laughing

Walking Project 016_the wild beasts of cucamonga from chris worland on Vimeo.

Walking above the clouds – Cucamonga Peak

I heard somewhere a piece of trail wisdom. If you lose the trail, just look for the cut trees.

Smile

Music by Charles Chaplin, Lyrics by John Turner and Geoffrey Parsons

Smile, though your heart is aching
Smile, even though it’s breaking
When there are clouds in the sky
you’ll get by
If you smile through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You’ll see the sun come shining through
for you

Light up your face with gladness
Hide every trace of sadness
Although a tear may be ever so near
That’s the time you must keep on trying
Smile what’s the use of crying
You’ll find that life is still worthwhile
If you’ll just
Smile

©Copyright 1954 by Bourne Co. Copyright Renewed All Rights Reserved International Copyright Secured

 

Walking Project 015_smile from chris worland on Vimeo.

« Older posts Newer posts »