http://isocrates.us/bike/2008/12/the-1-mile-solution/
Its a great idea.......
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
Last Kenya Post and Book Recommendation
Ok,
I just dug the majority of the text from my last blog post about the trip to Kenya off of my smashed computer. And remember, if a baggage handler ever makes you check your computer bag at the door of the plane, say no and clutch the bag with your dear life. So, with that in mind the last bit of the story will be up soon. However, since I have been back I have done nothing but get our new house ready to move in, so not sure when the post will be up.
Anyway, I wanted to say this.
Anybody who believes in Jesus, and especially those that do not, should read Joel Roseberg's Book Epicenter. This book is an eye opening look at the events happening now and predicted to happen in the Middle East in the future. I highly..... no strongly...... no sorry adamantly suggest that you read this book. If you are at all interested in World events, the end times, or the new wave of Christianity sweeping the world, you need to check it out.
http://www.joelrosenberg.com/
I just dug the majority of the text from my last blog post about the trip to Kenya off of my smashed computer. And remember, if a baggage handler ever makes you check your computer bag at the door of the plane, say no and clutch the bag with your dear life. So, with that in mind the last bit of the story will be up soon. However, since I have been back I have done nothing but get our new house ready to move in, so not sure when the post will be up.
Anyway, I wanted to say this.
Anybody who believes in Jesus, and especially those that do not, should read Joel Roseberg's Book Epicenter. This book is an eye opening look at the events happening now and predicted to happen in the Middle East in the future. I highly..... no strongly...... no sorry adamantly suggest that you read this book. If you are at all interested in World events, the end times, or the new wave of Christianity sweeping the world, you need to check it out.
http://www.joelrosenberg.com/
Friday, November 28, 2008
More pics----Story to come
Dinning at Comos house
Girls of Kipkaren River
Driving into Eldoret
Typical Scene on the Road
Soren's shop - where the bridge came together
The Kenyan Crane - Who needs hydraulics
The welding went into the night
Major soil problems before lift off
Finaly up in the air 
There were about 1,000 people on site to see the placement of the bridge.
Finaly up in the airThere were about 1,000 people on site to see the placement of the bridge. Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Monday Tuesday
The beginning of the second week. Monday the 24th of November 2008. The day started out slow. We woke late had a breakfast of boiled eggs and peanut butter sandwiches. Doug and I wanted to go over to the secondary school site and verify a couple of measurements to make sure we didn’t make any mistakes on the survey. Mark went with us and we walked down to the bridge site to see the road the Kenyans had been building. Then we headed up the hill and across a field to the bottom of the 20-acre parcel that David and the Church purchased. We took some bearings and verified some distances then Mark and I showed Doug where the Shoshone (sp?) river comes together with the Kipkaren River. The Shoshone drops a good 30-feet over the last 150 yards producing a series of small cascading water falls. After Doug took some pictures we then headed back to the Training Center ate some lunch and headed into to town to check the progress of the bridge fabrication and then do some shopping.
I can’t say enough how crazy driving in this country is. There are no traffic laws, and if there are they certainly don’t enforce them, no police and most drivers are either way too slow or way too fast. Motorcycles swerve in and out of traffic seeming to have a death wish. Our driver Meeshack lives on the way into town and stops often to pick up friends to give them “lifties.” We drive past his house and he honks as his wife waves from the side of the road. Mark rides shotgun and the rest of us sit on the benches in the back. The roads are a sea of humanity. People are everywhere, even way out in the middle of nowhere. Bikes, carts, tractors, you name it and it is on the road side. We make our way through Turbo, a small roadside town that houses a bunch of roadside shacks and stores. The way the Kenyan government gets people to slow down through the congested parts of the road is to put multiple speed bumps in the highway. Just imaging you are driving up Highway 41, you get to Coarsegold, and there is a bunch of speed bumps in the road. It is crazy. Cattle in the road, u-turns wherever and ill-advised passing are common occurrences on the way to Eldoret.
The City of Eldoret is a swarming mass of humanity. It seems that everybody is outside. There are major intersections with no stoplights or traffic control. Side streets are dirt or gravel and road grading is non-existent. It is wild being the only white people around. Everybody stares at you and looks you up and down. You hear Muzungo’s (white man) whispered from all around. We go into Tusky’s, a large Longs Drugs type department store. Two floors with groceries on the bottom floor and clothes and other miscellaneous stuff on the top floor. There must be 200 people working. On every aisle there a guy just standing there watching for shoplifters. Dress shirts cost about 200 shillings, or about two dollars and 50 cents apiece. The dollar goes a long way here.
Before we went shopping, we stop by Sorens to pick up Ben and my Dad and check out the bridge fabrication. Things are going well, and once inside you see how large the bridge actually is. It looks huge in the shop. Six by six tube steel frame, 95 feet long, and about six feet tall. Soren is going to transport the bridge in four 23-foot long sections. One section on the back of his flat bed truck with a crane and the other one on a trailer with the sides taken off. Soren was planning to leave Eldoret at 4:00 Tuesday morning to beat the traffic and hopefully the possible lorry (large trucks or big rig) inspections.
Apparently, they had some issues lifting the pieces with Soren’s crane and he could not completely lift each piece off the trailer and truck so they did not get going until 6:30. After three and a half hours, they got to the bridge site. However, with Soren not being able to lift each piece completely, things were going to get tricky getting each segment off the truck and trailer. Now, each section weighs in at over 4,000 pounds, so the plan was to use about 40 Kenyans to lift the first section up and set it on the four steel drums with wood blocks. This would allow us to pull the trailer out from under the sections and then use the crane to lower one half down at a time. Things went smooth with the first section and we set it down nice and easy. The next section was a little trickier. We set the steel drums and lifted each side onto the drums. We pulled the truck out, just squeezing the wheels past the drums. However, the drums in the back were a little crooked, as we were on uneven ground. We had to shift the weight in the front with the crane and when we did the rear section shifted and I swear was going to go down, but didn’t. The only was it stayed up was by the hand off God, cause it was the ugliest looking thing I had ever seen. We used the crane to set that end down and then lowered it into position. The Kenyans lifted it into its final position so the two pieces could be welded together. Remember, every time this thing had to be moved it involved about 30 to 40 Kenyan men lifting in unison and sliding it into position. It was impressive to watch the community come out to watch and help put this thing together. Young men came from all over the place to help lift these sections off the truck. David made an impassioned plea for everybody to come out early the next morning to repeat the exercise once again on the next two sections. The welders would also be there to melt this thing together. It was quite a day’s work.
Later that evening we were schedules to have dinner at Cosmas and Helen’s house. They live just on the other side of the road from the training center. They were married about 5 months ago and Cosmas would have loved for us all to be there, but since we couldn’t he had a small celebration for us. He planned to kill a goat, and since Chris was the guest of honor, he had the privilege of killing it. Apparently, there is a specific technique involved when it comes to killing the goat for a feast, but after Chris got back, he said it wasn’t really the case. But, anyway, I won’t go into the details. So, Cosmas and Helen rent a small place, and when I say small, I am not talking about 1,000 square feet or anything. I am talking about 300 square feet at best. Dinner quest included David and Alison, Julie, Mike and Debbie, Doug, Mark, Chris, Peter and myself. They literally had to move all the furniture out of the house to fit us all in for a meal. I have to say it was a very nice intimate time. The food was great, roasted goat, mashed potatoes, cabbage salad, goat stew, and flat bread (can’t remember what it is called). For dessert, orange slices and hot Chai tea with milk. Delicious.
David entertained us with stories of when he, Cosmas, and Peter were boys going through Moran training. Which is a right of passage for young men in this culture where they go out, sleep in the bush, are circumcised, and practice warfare techniques by raiding other camps. The training sends the boys into adulthood. The stories had us laughing and before long, it was off to bed.
The interesting thing about this place is you feel like you are stepping back in time, while at the same time, you get little glimpses into the modern world. Doug used this analogy; Living in the US we can see the future, here they are still in the past, we just need to connect the dots in between. It always makes me smile. We be out walking amongst the homesteads, mud huts with thatched roofs, cooking by wood fires of corn cobs, and then you look up and there is a woman coming out of the hut talking on a Nokia cell phone. Makes you double take every time.
The next two days will be the crux of the whole trip as the final pieces of the bridge will be put together and the big crane will come to lift it into place. Should be interesting.
Check back later to see how everything went. More pics to come......
Thanks
Tim
Before we went shopping, we stop by Sorens to pick up Ben and my Dad and check out the bridge fabrication. Things are going well, and once inside you see how large the bridge actually is. It looks huge in the shop. Six by six tube steel frame, 95 feet long, and about six feet tall. Soren is going to transport the bridge in four 23-foot long sections. One section on the back of his flat bed truck with a crane and the other one on a trailer with the sides taken off. Soren was planning to leave Eldoret at 4:00 Tuesday morning to beat the traffic and hopefully the possible lorry (large trucks or big rig) inspections.
Apparently, they had some issues lifting the pieces with Soren’s crane and he could not completely lift each piece off the trailer and truck so they did not get going until 6:30. After three and a half hours, they got to the bridge site. However, with Soren not being able to lift each piece completely, things were going to get tricky getting each segment off the truck and trailer. Now, each section weighs in at over 4,000 pounds, so the plan was to use about 40 Kenyans to lift the first section up and set it on the four steel drums with wood blocks. This would allow us to pull the trailer out from under the sections and then use the crane to lower one half down at a time. Things went smooth with the first section and we set it down nice and easy. The next section was a little trickier. We set the steel drums and lifted each side onto the drums. We pulled the truck out, just squeezing the wheels past the drums. However, the drums in the back were a little crooked, as we were on uneven ground. We had to shift the weight in the front with the crane and when we did the rear section shifted and I swear was going to go down, but didn’t. The only was it stayed up was by the hand off God, cause it was the ugliest looking thing I had ever seen. We used the crane to set that end down and then lowered it into position. The Kenyans lifted it into its final position so the two pieces could be welded together. Remember, every time this thing had to be moved it involved about 30 to 40 Kenyan men lifting in unison and sliding it into position. It was impressive to watch the community come out to watch and help put this thing together. Young men came from all over the place to help lift these sections off the truck. David made an impassioned plea for everybody to come out early the next morning to repeat the exercise once again on the next two sections. The welders would also be there to melt this thing together. It was quite a day’s work.
Later that evening we were schedules to have dinner at Cosmas and Helen’s house. They live just on the other side of the road from the training center. They were married about 5 months ago and Cosmas would have loved for us all to be there, but since we couldn’t he had a small celebration for us. He planned to kill a goat, and since Chris was the guest of honor, he had the privilege of killing it. Apparently, there is a specific technique involved when it comes to killing the goat for a feast, but after Chris got back, he said it wasn’t really the case. But, anyway, I won’t go into the details. So, Cosmas and Helen rent a small place, and when I say small, I am not talking about 1,000 square feet or anything. I am talking about 300 square feet at best. Dinner quest included David and Alison, Julie, Mike and Debbie, Doug, Mark, Chris, Peter and myself. They literally had to move all the furniture out of the house to fit us all in for a meal. I have to say it was a very nice intimate time. The food was great, roasted goat, mashed potatoes, cabbage salad, goat stew, and flat bread (can’t remember what it is called). For dessert, orange slices and hot Chai tea with milk. Delicious.
David entertained us with stories of when he, Cosmas, and Peter were boys going through Moran training. Which is a right of passage for young men in this culture where they go out, sleep in the bush, are circumcised, and practice warfare techniques by raiding other camps. The training sends the boys into adulthood. The stories had us laughing and before long, it was off to bed.
The interesting thing about this place is you feel like you are stepping back in time, while at the same time, you get little glimpses into the modern world. Doug used this analogy; Living in the US we can see the future, here they are still in the past, we just need to connect the dots in between. It always makes me smile. We be out walking amongst the homesteads, mud huts with thatched roofs, cooking by wood fires of corn cobs, and then you look up and there is a woman coming out of the hut talking on a Nokia cell phone. Makes you double take every time.
The next two days will be the crux of the whole trip as the final pieces of the bridge will be put together and the big crane will come to lift it into place. Should be interesting.
Check back later to see how everything went. More pics to come......
Thanks
Tim
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Friday Saturday Sunday
Today was the first day where we did not have to work on the bridge. We had a couple of things we would have liked to get accomplished but, if they were not done, no problem (hacuna mutate). We had a leisurely morning. Mark, Mike and my Dad were headed into town to work in the fabrication shop. My Dad was cutting the wood that will be used as the bridge deck, while Mike was to help Ben with the bridge fabrication. Doug, Chris and I were to hang back at the training center and try to survey the new secondary school site for the architect in Sacramento. We also wanted to take a walk down to the log bridge. The log bridge is just that, a bridge across the (I can't remember the name) river that flows into the Kipkaren River that consists of a 24-inch diameter log that goes 80-feet from bank to bank. Every year several people die trying to cross the bridge when the water is high. This year twin boys were swept off the log and were found dead a couple miles down river.
Before Doug and I set out on the 30 minute walk to take some measurements and think of some ways in which a safer bridge could be constructed, we went over to the Children’s home to distribute the 30 or so pairs of soccer cleats we brought from the US for the kids. We also had some toothbrushes and other supplies. When we arrived Mr. Bushmai (sp) had the all boys who like to play soccer lined up outside. We went in, arranged the cleats by size, and had a couple kids come in at a time to find a pair that fit. For the kids that could not find their size we had t-shirts. I wish you could have seen the looks on the boy’s faces when they put the shoes on. They where looking at the bottoms of the shoes standing there staring at their feet. Once we distributed them all, they sprinted out to get a ball and try out their new stuff. We had a lot of smaller sizes too that fit the girls. Every year the kids from Kipkaren play against the kids from Ilula, the other ELI children’s home down near Eldoret. This year the Kipkaren boys lost, but the girls were triumphant against Ilula.
After we finished Doug and I headed out to the log bridge. We started walking down the dirt road from the training center, past the school and around the bend. We headed off the main road and onto a smaller trail. There are children everywhere around hear. They come out of the bushes and wave to you, their big smiles lighting up the sky. We pass homestead after homestead on our way. This area of Kenya has endless land divided up into small farms and homesteads. Dirt paths and small roads connect them all. Car traffic off the main road is non-existent. Everybody either walks or rides a bike. The bikes hear are all 1950’s era English commuters, and they are everywhere. There must be millions of them all the same style. The Kenyans have personalized them to their own taste with colored tape, fenders, and mud flaps. In the cities, they have made them into bicycle taxis called Bodo Bodo. They put a decorated pad on the rack over the rear wheel and the passenger travels by just jumping on and holding tight. Some have music so the passenger can relax while swerving in and out of the crazy traffic in the city. For mast people, if they don’t have a bike, they walk. To get to the main towns like Eldoret, you would walk to the main road, and jump in a Mutatu (Moo ta too), a small mini van/taxi. These things are everywhere, and they cram as many people in them as they can. It is not uncommon to see 20 people crammed into a 10 passenger van.
Anyway, Doug and I turn off the main road, down a small dirt path with chickens wandering about. Then take a right onto a smaller trail and head down to the river where we come to the log bridge. The water is low right now, so the log sits about ten feet above the water. It is 12-inches wide on one end and about 24-inches wide on the other. Last year Mica ran a cable across to aid people in crossing, but people still do fall off once the water gets too high and makes the log slippery. We took some pictures, sketched out the site and came up with some ideas about how to construct a replacement that would be safer. As we are sitting there a father comes walking across with two kids, 18-months and 7 years old. He crosses the bridge with the baby on his shoulders a bag of maze in one hand with his seven year old in the other. That site would freak out most western mothers. Another woman comes loaded with a couple of baskets on her head, and she slowly makes her way across. You have to remember, none of the Kenyans know how to swim, so if they go in, the will surly drown.
We made our way back and get picked up by Nelson, who is just happening to be traveling with the crane operator from Eldoret. We needed him to come down to the site to asses the situation and identify the most appropriate location for the crane to lift the bridge into place. This is a critical aspect of the construction, if he says he can’t do it, we will be scrambling to find a solution. We walk over to the other side of the bridge and we locate where we would need to place the crane. The operator says it looks good and that it should not be a problem, but if the rains come, we would need a bulldozer to get the crane out of the river bottom. Therefore, we need to pray for good weather in order for this thing to happen.
We head back to the training center and take a badly needed nap, the days have been very hot and we are all starting to get very tired, so the break in the work has been very welcome. After the nap, Doug and I head over to the site where the community is going to build a secondary school. We spend a couple of hours surveying the site and head back to camp. I scheduled a Skype call with Tracy and the boys for 6:30, so we had a couple of hours and we walked over to the Medical Clinic. ELI originally build the clinic about six or seven years ago and has been expanding it ever since. The have an HIV/Aids testing and education center, maternity and post partum care, chemist (Pharmacy), and they just added an eye doctor. They whole thing is very primitive compared to western standards, but it is very good considering the only other medical care is in Eldoret. Which is an hour and twenty minutes by car, assuming you have access to a car. While we were there we were given a private tour by Oscar and she (Yes Oscar is a woman) showed us around and too us to their newest building, which houses the home care office and some other rooms. That is where we met, Baby Michele. About two months before we arrived on of the local mothers was having trouble delivering and she dyed on the way to the clinic. The nurses were able to save the baby and now the staff is caring her for, before she is adopted by one of the families at the Children’s Home. They family waited to take her to the clinic because they didn’t have insurance. Do you know who much health insurance cost in Kenya? Six dollars. We were speaking to David, the Bishop of the area, and he was pleading that something needs to be done, that people should not be dying over six dollars. She lived on the other side of the bridge and her family had carry her over the old bridge before the ambulance (a 1980’s Toyota Land Cruiser with some benches in the back) could pick her up. Once the new bridge is constructed, the Ambulance will be able to drive across the bridge.
We say thank you to Oscar and head back so I can make my Skype appointment with Tracy. It is amazing what technology can do. Here I was in the middle of the back roads of Kenya video calling with Tracy and kids over a satellite connection free. Skype is awesome.
That night it rained very hard. The wind blew and it came down in buckets.
Saturday we headed into town to see the Children’s Home in Ilula, and visit with John Rono and his family. John is a freshman civil engineering student and Moi University and came to visit the US back in June. He stayed for 6 weeks and got to see tons of things in California. He visited a bunch of engineering firms and stayed for two weeks at the International House at UC Berkeley.
It was great to see John and visit with his family. He took us out to Moi University and showed us where he goes to school. Getting out to Moi U was interesting. The road out there had to be, by far the worst road I, or any body else on the team have been on in our lives. It is so bad that you don’t even drive on the road, most people just drive on the shoulder. The University was very sad. That is the thing about Kenya, everybody complains about how corrupt the government is, and the public facilities are run down dumps. Jon lives in a brand new dorm, completed last year and the place looks like it has been around for 50 years and nobody has been taking care of it. We walked down the hall, the faucet in the bathroom is broken, and water is flooding the hall. The flooring is coming up and there are broken windows. The place looks like a refugee camp. This is one of the largest Universities in Kenya.
We head out and make our way back to Eldoret where we have a date to have dinner and Soren and Brigetta Peterson’s house. Soren and Brigetta are from Holland and have been in Kenya for over 13 years. Soren runs a fabrication shop and he builds churches and other facilities for missionary groups and the churches in Kenya. They are an amazing couple and have quite the story to tell about how they got to where they are and how their faith in the Lord has led them to where they are today. This is not your ordinary couple by any means. Over the course of a couple of hours, Soren laid out their story. It is hard to put into words the incredible things they have been through, life and death, fighting the political establishment and putting their faith in God so many times when the end seemed near. Listening to them was truly inspiring. In 2006 they build 187 churches in Kenya. They have four Children, the two oldest go to boarding school in Nairobi.
We made our way back to Kipkaren got a good night sleep and woke up late. We went to Church on Sunday. The three-hour service was filled with wonderful singing, powerful prayer, and a great message from Debbie. It was a little embarrassing when the Bishop asked the bridge team to come up and sing a song. We were all looking at each other trying to think up something we all knew. Finally, we got Alman to lead us in Our God Is an Awesome God. It was perfect, one verse, over and over again. After the song, we told them we were better builders (Fundi) than singers.
Now we wait for Monday to come. The bridge will hopefully be taken out to the site on Tuesday, the four sections welded together on Wednesday and put into place on Thursday (Thanksgiving day). The community is very excited and they are planning a big celebration. We continue to pray that all the pieces will fall into place.
Thanks for reading.
God Bless.
Before Doug and I set out on the 30 minute walk to take some measurements and think of some ways in which a safer bridge could be constructed, we went over to the Children’s home to distribute the 30 or so pairs of soccer cleats we brought from the US for the kids. We also had some toothbrushes and other supplies. When we arrived Mr. Bushmai (sp) had the all boys who like to play soccer lined up outside. We went in, arranged the cleats by size, and had a couple kids come in at a time to find a pair that fit. For the kids that could not find their size we had t-shirts. I wish you could have seen the looks on the boy’s faces when they put the shoes on. They where looking at the bottoms of the shoes standing there staring at their feet. Once we distributed them all, they sprinted out to get a ball and try out their new stuff. We had a lot of smaller sizes too that fit the girls. Every year the kids from Kipkaren play against the kids from Ilula, the other ELI children’s home down near Eldoret. This year the Kipkaren boys lost, but the girls were triumphant against Ilula.
After we finished Doug and I headed out to the log bridge. We started walking down the dirt road from the training center, past the school and around the bend. We headed off the main road and onto a smaller trail. There are children everywhere around hear. They come out of the bushes and wave to you, their big smiles lighting up the sky. We pass homestead after homestead on our way. This area of Kenya has endless land divided up into small farms and homesteads. Dirt paths and small roads connect them all. Car traffic off the main road is non-existent. Everybody either walks or rides a bike. The bikes hear are all 1950’s era English commuters, and they are everywhere. There must be millions of them all the same style. The Kenyans have personalized them to their own taste with colored tape, fenders, and mud flaps. In the cities, they have made them into bicycle taxis called Bodo Bodo. They put a decorated pad on the rack over the rear wheel and the passenger travels by just jumping on and holding tight. Some have music so the passenger can relax while swerving in and out of the crazy traffic in the city. For mast people, if they don’t have a bike, they walk. To get to the main towns like Eldoret, you would walk to the main road, and jump in a Mutatu (Moo ta too), a small mini van/taxi. These things are everywhere, and they cram as many people in them as they can. It is not uncommon to see 20 people crammed into a 10 passenger van.
Anyway, Doug and I turn off the main road, down a small dirt path with chickens wandering about. Then take a right onto a smaller trail and head down to the river where we come to the log bridge. The water is low right now, so the log sits about ten feet above the water. It is 12-inches wide on one end and about 24-inches wide on the other. Last year Mica ran a cable across to aid people in crossing, but people still do fall off once the water gets too high and makes the log slippery. We took some pictures, sketched out the site and came up with some ideas about how to construct a replacement that would be safer. As we are sitting there a father comes walking across with two kids, 18-months and 7 years old. He crosses the bridge with the baby on his shoulders a bag of maze in one hand with his seven year old in the other. That site would freak out most western mothers. Another woman comes loaded with a couple of baskets on her head, and she slowly makes her way across. You have to remember, none of the Kenyans know how to swim, so if they go in, the will surly drown.
We made our way back and get picked up by Nelson, who is just happening to be traveling with the crane operator from Eldoret. We needed him to come down to the site to asses the situation and identify the most appropriate location for the crane to lift the bridge into place. This is a critical aspect of the construction, if he says he can’t do it, we will be scrambling to find a solution. We walk over to the other side of the bridge and we locate where we would need to place the crane. The operator says it looks good and that it should not be a problem, but if the rains come, we would need a bulldozer to get the crane out of the river bottom. Therefore, we need to pray for good weather in order for this thing to happen.
We head back to the training center and take a badly needed nap, the days have been very hot and we are all starting to get very tired, so the break in the work has been very welcome. After the nap, Doug and I head over to the site where the community is going to build a secondary school. We spend a couple of hours surveying the site and head back to camp. I scheduled a Skype call with Tracy and the boys for 6:30, so we had a couple of hours and we walked over to the Medical Clinic. ELI originally build the clinic about six or seven years ago and has been expanding it ever since. The have an HIV/Aids testing and education center, maternity and post partum care, chemist (Pharmacy), and they just added an eye doctor. They whole thing is very primitive compared to western standards, but it is very good considering the only other medical care is in Eldoret. Which is an hour and twenty minutes by car, assuming you have access to a car. While we were there we were given a private tour by Oscar and she (Yes Oscar is a woman) showed us around and too us to their newest building, which houses the home care office and some other rooms. That is where we met, Baby Michele. About two months before we arrived on of the local mothers was having trouble delivering and she dyed on the way to the clinic. The nurses were able to save the baby and now the staff is caring her for, before she is adopted by one of the families at the Children’s Home. They family waited to take her to the clinic because they didn’t have insurance. Do you know who much health insurance cost in Kenya? Six dollars. We were speaking to David, the Bishop of the area, and he was pleading that something needs to be done, that people should not be dying over six dollars. She lived on the other side of the bridge and her family had carry her over the old bridge before the ambulance (a 1980’s Toyota Land Cruiser with some benches in the back) could pick her up. Once the new bridge is constructed, the Ambulance will be able to drive across the bridge.
We say thank you to Oscar and head back so I can make my Skype appointment with Tracy. It is amazing what technology can do. Here I was in the middle of the back roads of Kenya video calling with Tracy and kids over a satellite connection free. Skype is awesome.
That night it rained very hard. The wind blew and it came down in buckets.
Saturday we headed into town to see the Children’s Home in Ilula, and visit with John Rono and his family. John is a freshman civil engineering student and Moi University and came to visit the US back in June. He stayed for 6 weeks and got to see tons of things in California. He visited a bunch of engineering firms and stayed for two weeks at the International House at UC Berkeley.
It was great to see John and visit with his family. He took us out to Moi University and showed us where he goes to school. Getting out to Moi U was interesting. The road out there had to be, by far the worst road I, or any body else on the team have been on in our lives. It is so bad that you don’t even drive on the road, most people just drive on the shoulder. The University was very sad. That is the thing about Kenya, everybody complains about how corrupt the government is, and the public facilities are run down dumps. Jon lives in a brand new dorm, completed last year and the place looks like it has been around for 50 years and nobody has been taking care of it. We walked down the hall, the faucet in the bathroom is broken, and water is flooding the hall. The flooring is coming up and there are broken windows. The place looks like a refugee camp. This is one of the largest Universities in Kenya.
We head out and make our way back to Eldoret where we have a date to have dinner and Soren and Brigetta Peterson’s house. Soren and Brigetta are from Holland and have been in Kenya for over 13 years. Soren runs a fabrication shop and he builds churches and other facilities for missionary groups and the churches in Kenya. They are an amazing couple and have quite the story to tell about how they got to where they are and how their faith in the Lord has led them to where they are today. This is not your ordinary couple by any means. Over the course of a couple of hours, Soren laid out their story. It is hard to put into words the incredible things they have been through, life and death, fighting the political establishment and putting their faith in God so many times when the end seemed near. Listening to them was truly inspiring. In 2006 they build 187 churches in Kenya. They have four Children, the two oldest go to boarding school in Nairobi.
We made our way back to Kipkaren got a good night sleep and woke up late. We went to Church on Sunday. The three-hour service was filled with wonderful singing, powerful prayer, and a great message from Debbie. It was a little embarrassing when the Bishop asked the bridge team to come up and sing a song. We were all looking at each other trying to think up something we all knew. Finally, we got Alman to lead us in Our God Is an Awesome God. It was perfect, one verse, over and over again. After the song, we told them we were better builders (Fundi) than singers.
Now we wait for Monday to come. The bridge will hopefully be taken out to the site on Tuesday, the four sections welded together on Wednesday and put into place on Thursday (Thanksgiving day). The community is very excited and they are planning a big celebration. We continue to pray that all the pieces will fall into place.
Thanks for reading.
God Bless.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
The first week
Ok, where do I start.
Today was one of those days that makes you really think about who you are and what you are doing in this world. I know that what I saw today changed my perspective and will never leave my mind.
Last night on our flight from London to Nairobi Doug sat next to a woman named Helen who was returning from the UK. Her husband is a doctor and they have their fingers in all sorts of good stuff. They run a 24-hour a day medical clinic and a children’s school. But this is not just any ordinary school. This school is smack dab in the middle of one of the largest slums in Nairobi. Well, …. she invited us to come with her and see the work that her group has been doing.
To be honest, the thought of going into the slums scared the crap out of me. I have heard the stories of people going into the slums in Rio and never coming back. She shows up with a couple of her main counterparts, James and Davison. Then Ben, Doug, my Dad and I jump into their two late 80s Subaru wagons and head out into the streets of Nairobi.
First of all, riding as a passenger through the streets of Nairobi with a native is quite an experience. There are no laws, no lanes lines and the boundary between the oncoming lanes is just a suggestion. Passing on the left or the right is not a problem, and if you need to get out into a traffic circle, you just force your way. The taxis (mutatus) are these Toyota mini vans and they run them like busses picking up people along the way. There is a drive and a passenger handler, who leans out the window and tries to get you to jump in the cab as you walk by. Anyway…we jumped into the cars with Helen and head out. At first Doug told us that we were just going to go look at the clinic, but as we were going Helen mentioned that she was so excited, cause it had not been raining and we could go into the slums to see the school.
What? We ARE going into the slums? Ok, Lord I am trusting in you. We head down a major road in Nairobi and then turn and start down a small dirt one. There are people everywhere walking, riding bicycles, pushing carts and carrying babies. You glance over and there are two children no older than two sitting on the side of the road, there parents have to work, so they just leave them sitting there all day. Trash is everywhere and pools of stagnant water lay everywhere. We turn right and head into what is no wider than an alley, with street vendors lining both sides selling dried corn, shoes, produce. The vendors operate out of cardboard or corrugated metal building. All eyes are on us as we make our way up the road. First of all it can not even be called a road.
You see…… Helen and her Husband got four wheel drives in order to even be able to carry supplies back in. If the rains had come we would have been walking and as it was, we had to navigate huge mud holes, and deep ruts, while getting help form the hordes of people, chickens and kids walking next to us and past the car. We got stuck once and about 5 guys were shouting instructions to Helen as she tried to get us out of the hole. We pass a little shack where the entire community gets water from a small ½ inch pvc pipe coming up from who knows where. There approximately 300,000 people living in this slum. Think about that, two thirds of the population of Fresno living in tin shacks. Plus, this isn’t even the biggest slum in the City. The biggest one has over 1 million people. There have complete communities, with churches, small markets, and even hair salons. It was wild to look into a little store front made out of old cardboard and tin boxes, and see a young girl getting her hair straightened in a one chair salon.
We come to a place where we cant get passed a big mud hole and have to walk. I wanted so bad to take some photos, but I was afraid of taking out my camera. We walked a couple of hundred yards down a small side road and arrive at the Children’s school. There are 6 or 7 classrooms, all with small carved wood desks and little black boards. They teach about 250 kids at the school and they also feed them porridge everyday, since for most, that will be the only meal they eat all day. Helen also brings here clinic staff to treat the kids and give them shoots to get rid of worms and other parasites. An eye opening experience for sure. You hear people say that it makes you realize how lucky we are. That statement could not be closer to the truth.
After we left the slums we went to the site where Helen and her group are building a new school
for the children that will be located outside the slums, so the kids will have a better environment in which to study. She is a very bold and ambitious woman. She treated us to a very nice lunch at her house, and her three daughters cooked the meal. There is a young engineer Ben that came along on the trip, and one of Helen’s daughters was quite taken by him. She leaned over and said to him, “You are very handsome.” Ben was totally taken back and did not know what to say. It was pretty funny and so Doug started negotiating the marriage. 20 cows was the price for him to come home with a nice Kenyan bride….
I showed Helen a picture of Finn and Reed and told her how much we miss each other. She laughed and said in a cheerful happy voice, ”Of course, but you must do the work the Lord, and they are doing there part as well by supporting you in this effort.” They gave us the most wonderful meal of rice, cabbage salad, potatoes, and Kenyan chicken. Chicken from Kenya is very different from the chickens we have in the states. They are free range, and when I say that, I am not talking about being raised in an open-air coop, these guys are super tough lean muscled birds. There are no two pound chicken breast here.
We finished our lunch and Helen drove us to the airport, where we hooked up with Chris and Mark. Then we caught a flight to Eldoret, where Meshack from the ELI training center picked us up at the airport. Apparently, they thought our flight arrived at 2:00. We started driving and headed into Eldoret. There are people walking and riding bikes all over the place, the driving is just as crazy here as it is in Nairobi. Except here, it has a more primitive feel, and everything is a little wilder. It is truly amazing driving through these Cities. There are people roasting corn on the side of the road in little metal grills that look like they are made from hubcaps.
We head south and hit a dirt road that takes us to the ELI training center. The six kilometers seemed like a lot longer. The roads are super rough and bumpy stuff fit for a heavy duty four wheel drive, but we were taking them in a Toyota van. We turn the corner and finally reach the training center where a group of about 200 people were waiting to welcome us. We step out of the van and they begin singing the most beautiful song. It totally sent chills down my spine and I was completely humbled and blown away by the how wonderful it was. The community has been looking forward to this bridge for so long, as the temporary bridge is getting worse and worse by the day.
We had a nice dinner with the group that runs the training center. David and his wife Allison, Julie, and Peter then headed to bed. I woke up at 5:30 and went outside to take a look at the River for the first time. A frothing brown picture of motion. Across the river are some mud huts with thatched roofs, which are very typical of this area. We ate breakfast and headed down to the bridge site to take a look, measure some stuff out and get things going. It is quite a picturesque scene. A small dirt path leads down a steep slope to the old bridge. Green fields and hills surround the site. Villagers come out of nowhere to take a look at what is going on. Ten to fifteen men were already assembled to get the work started. We receive a blessing from a local pastor in Swahili and got underway.
The days task involved surveying and staking off the locations of the large footing on the sandy side of the river, drilling the anchor bolt holes for the rocky side and excavating the hole where the bridge abutment is going to be poured and then pouring the keyway. The keyway is a two-foot wide anchor piece of concrete that will be help the bridge resist lateral movement. With the Kenyans doing all the heavy lifting and digging, we made super fast progress. There were definitely leaders among the Kenyans. Mica, a very soft-spoken 35 year old business man, seemed to be allocating the tasks and making decisions. He manages a bread distribution service around Eldoret. In his quite gentle way he led the others and came up with practical ways for the team to do certain things. The Kenyans definitely do things differently. At any one point in the day there would be up to 30 guys standing around taking turns with the shovels, carrying wheel borrows full of concrete or shoveling sand, gravel or cement into the gasoline powered mixer. They were amazing workers and most of the time we found ourselves watching and supervising the job, making sure the rebar was placed right and keeping the concrete mix the right consistency. The Kenyans worked so fast that we completed two days work in the first day and found ourselves ahead of schedule.
The next day we set out to pour the 4-foot tall 3-foot wide foundation block in which the bridge structure is to sit on. The Kenyans constructed the formwork in their typical Kenyan ways, by piecing together timbers and using anything they could to get the job done. They are amazingly resourceful and while it may not look neat and tidy, it is beautiful how the structure came together. It took all day to pour the main section of the abutment, and as dusk was beginning to set, Mica smoothed out the top section and we made plans for the next day.
Doug, Mark, my Dad, and I decided to take the short walk back to the training center instead of the bumpy car ride. While we were walking a group of children followed wanting us to take their pictures and Doug ran after them and tickled them as they laughed hysterically. The children here are amazingly beautiful creations. They will come wandering down to the bridge site, some not much older than a year old, and sit and watch. They sill stare at you wondering what these crazy white men (mazungus) are doing. You give them a little smile and their little faces light up as they shyly turn away. They love to see their pictures in the camera. The can’t wait to look and laugh at themselves and their friends in the photos. You can’t help but want to take them home with you.
It is amazing to think that less than a year ago this whole region was ravage by violence. The ELI clinic has an ambulance that is used to transport people to the clinic or just to drive people to and fro. Julie, one of the missionaries here was telling us how valuable it was during the unrest. As we were talking about it, she softly mentioned how horrible it was. The area where we are staying was the center of a lot of the unrest.
As we walked back, we take a short detour through the children’s school grounds and into the children’s home. There are over 100 children living here in groups of 12 boys and 12 girls with a parent group. The system is quite interesting. We wonder into the cluster of houses as a loud bell rings letting the kids know that it is time for the daily devotions. All the kids come running with their little Bibles in hand and a couple of them offer up their hands and take us inside. There sweet little voices say come, please sit. All 100 kids squeezing into the little room as they begin singing. All the kids are AIDS orphans. They are truly beautiful. One of the older girls leads the singing. She has an amazing voice and the others follow her lead as they sing praises to God. The singing goes on for several minutes and then they begin taking turns reciting Bible verses. It was a fantastic experience to be there listening. Tiny little boys dancing and young babies sitting in older siblings laps singing. As the kids were singing a small little boy, had to be less than two comes toddling up to me and wants to sit up in my lap. I grab him and he sits down and keeps watching all the others singing and dancing. I was touched to watch these children that would be on the streets have such a wonderful home. After devotions were over the children all want to say hello shake our hands and show us where they live. As we leave, Doug is talking about the children and their singing and he says, ”That my friends, is just like heaven.” They are all truly beautiful.
It has been amazing to see how the Lord has been working during this trip. Sometimes he is subtle and sometimes he likes to beat you over the head. To the point where there is no way for you to ignore it. On Wednesday morning Chris and I were sitting out in the Gazebo watching the river reading and he turns to me and says, “hey if your going to do the devotional this morning how about using this passage for 1 Peter.” You see, someone from the team will present a reading from the Bible and we will discuss it and we will all reflect and pray. That morning we went into breakfast and my Dad was all ready to do the devotional. Well, he read the same verse that Chris and I had talked about. Chris and I just looked at each other and laughed. It was amazing, and made me realize again, even though I should never be surprised, how real God is and how he provides for us when we need it. Another example is something that happened Thursday morning.
Last night we went into Eldoret to meet with Soren, the engineer who is fabricating the bridge, and have dinner at the Eldo Grill. I have to say that was an experience. The menu is Italian, Indian, and American fare, complete with lots of interesting spellings of English words. Sort of like this blog (isn’t that right Tracy). It was the first time we able to talk with Ben since the first night in Kipkarren. You see, what Ben and Soren are doing is the crux of the whole project. They are cutting and welding the steel together to create the structure of the bridge. They are the critical path for this project.
Well, Ben was talking about the difficulties of the fabrication and how it was hard to watch each of the workers to ensure that everything is done to specifications. It is critical, because the pieces have to fit together right or the bridge will not work. Kind of like building a puzzle by creating the pieces from scratch and then hoping that they all fit together. You could tell Ben was frustrated, he even said as much. The going was slow, and their schedule was pushing the time to completion right up to the day before we leave. We needed another set of eyes to ensure quality control. Well, we get back to Kipkarren and the next morning at breakfast there is a couple, Mike and Debbie, from Pasadena that are here on a prayer mission. We get to talking and if turns out he is an Engineer who has specialized in steel fabrication for over 30 years. YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!!! Their trip to Kenya had been delayed twice before, and this time they made it. He was more than excited to help with the bridge project, and agreed to go into Eldoret to help Ben with the fabrication. It was unbelievable. God has been showing himself to us in so many ways on this trip. Those are just a couple of examples of his grace and provision.
Today we finished forming the second abutment and poured the concrete. The Kenyans worked very hard and they even began back filling where the road will be with rocks. You see, the deck of the new bridge will be much higher and there is a considerable hole that needs to be filled. The pour of the abutment was tenuous and we thought for a while that the forms may fail, which would be a catastrophe, but they held and the concrete is setting nicely. Tomorrow we are going to go to look at the log bridge, where many people have dyed trying to cross. Doug would like to construct something there that would be safer to cross.
That is my report for now. Keep praying and I thank you all for reading. Hopefully, I will be able to post more frequently know, as they have fixed the problems they are having with the network here. Sorry for now photos....the computers are fighting against us here.
God bless you all.
Today was one of those days that makes you really think about who you are and what you are doing in this world. I know that what I saw today changed my perspective and will never leave my mind.
Last night on our flight from London to Nairobi Doug sat next to a woman named Helen who was returning from the UK. Her husband is a doctor and they have their fingers in all sorts of good stuff. They run a 24-hour a day medical clinic and a children’s school. But this is not just any ordinary school. This school is smack dab in the middle of one of the largest slums in Nairobi. Well, …. she invited us to come with her and see the work that her group has been doing.
To be honest, the thought of going into the slums scared the crap out of me. I have heard the stories of people going into the slums in Rio and never coming back. She shows up with a couple of her main counterparts, James and Davison. Then Ben, Doug, my Dad and I jump into their two late 80s Subaru wagons and head out into the streets of Nairobi.
First of all, riding as a passenger through the streets of Nairobi with a native is quite an experience. There are no laws, no lanes lines and the boundary between the oncoming lanes is just a suggestion. Passing on the left or the right is not a problem, and if you need to get out into a traffic circle, you just force your way. The taxis (mutatus) are these Toyota mini vans and they run them like busses picking up people along the way. There is a drive and a passenger handler, who leans out the window and tries to get you to jump in the cab as you walk by. Anyway…we jumped into the cars with Helen and head out. At first Doug told us that we were just going to go look at the clinic, but as we were going Helen mentioned that she was so excited, cause it had not been raining and we could go into the slums to see the school.
What? We ARE going into the slums? Ok, Lord I am trusting in you. We head down a major road in Nairobi and then turn and start down a small dirt one. There are people everywhere walking, riding bicycles, pushing carts and carrying babies. You glance over and there are two children no older than two sitting on the side of the road, there parents have to work, so they just leave them sitting there all day. Trash is everywhere and pools of stagnant water lay everywhere. We turn right and head into what is no wider than an alley, with street vendors lining both sides selling dried corn, shoes, produce. The vendors operate out of cardboard or corrugated metal building. All eyes are on us as we make our way up the road. First of all it can not even be called a road.
You see…… Helen and her Husband got four wheel drives in order to even be able to carry supplies back in. If the rains had come we would have been walking and as it was, we had to navigate huge mud holes, and deep ruts, while getting help form the hordes of people, chickens and kids walking next to us and past the car. We got stuck once and about 5 guys were shouting instructions to Helen as she tried to get us out of the hole. We pass a little shack where the entire community gets water from a small ½ inch pvc pipe coming up from who knows where. There approximately 300,000 people living in this slum. Think about that, two thirds of the population of Fresno living in tin shacks. Plus, this isn’t even the biggest slum in the City. The biggest one has over 1 million people. There have complete communities, with churches, small markets, and even hair salons. It was wild to look into a little store front made out of old cardboard and tin boxes, and see a young girl getting her hair straightened in a one chair salon.
We come to a place where we cant get passed a big mud hole and have to walk. I wanted so bad to take some photos, but I was afraid of taking out my camera. We walked a couple of hundred yards down a small side road and arrive at the Children’s school. There are 6 or 7 classrooms, all with small carved wood desks and little black boards. They teach about 250 kids at the school and they also feed them porridge everyday, since for most, that will be the only meal they eat all day. Helen also brings here clinic staff to treat the kids and give them shoots to get rid of worms and other parasites. An eye opening experience for sure. You hear people say that it makes you realize how lucky we are. That statement could not be closer to the truth.
After we left the slums we went to the site where Helen and her group are building a new school
for the children that will be located outside the slums, so the kids will have a better environment in which to study. She is a very bold and ambitious woman. She treated us to a very nice lunch at her house, and her three daughters cooked the meal. There is a young engineer Ben that came along on the trip, and one of Helen’s daughters was quite taken by him. She leaned over and said to him, “You are very handsome.” Ben was totally taken back and did not know what to say. It was pretty funny and so Doug started negotiating the marriage. 20 cows was the price for him to come home with a nice Kenyan bride….
I showed Helen a picture of Finn and Reed and told her how much we miss each other. She laughed and said in a cheerful happy voice, ”Of course, but you must do the work the Lord, and they are doing there part as well by supporting you in this effort.” They gave us the most wonderful meal of rice, cabbage salad, potatoes, and Kenyan chicken. Chicken from Kenya is very different from the chickens we have in the states. They are free range, and when I say that, I am not talking about being raised in an open-air coop, these guys are super tough lean muscled birds. There are no two pound chicken breast here.
We finished our lunch and Helen drove us to the airport, where we hooked up with Chris and Mark. Then we caught a flight to Eldoret, where Meshack from the ELI training center picked us up at the airport. Apparently, they thought our flight arrived at 2:00. We started driving and headed into Eldoret. There are people walking and riding bikes all over the place, the driving is just as crazy here as it is in Nairobi. Except here, it has a more primitive feel, and everything is a little wilder. It is truly amazing driving through these Cities. There are people roasting corn on the side of the road in little metal grills that look like they are made from hubcaps.
We head south and hit a dirt road that takes us to the ELI training center. The six kilometers seemed like a lot longer. The roads are super rough and bumpy stuff fit for a heavy duty four wheel drive, but we were taking them in a Toyota van. We turn the corner and finally reach the training center where a group of about 200 people were waiting to welcome us. We step out of the van and they begin singing the most beautiful song. It totally sent chills down my spine and I was completely humbled and blown away by the how wonderful it was. The community has been looking forward to this bridge for so long, as the temporary bridge is getting worse and worse by the day.
We had a nice dinner with the group that runs the training center. David and his wife Allison, Julie, and Peter then headed to bed. I woke up at 5:30 and went outside to take a look at the River for the first time. A frothing brown picture of motion. Across the river are some mud huts with thatched roofs, which are very typical of this area. We ate breakfast and headed down to the bridge site to take a look, measure some stuff out and get things going. It is quite a picturesque scene. A small dirt path leads down a steep slope to the old bridge. Green fields and hills surround the site. Villagers come out of nowhere to take a look at what is going on. Ten to fifteen men were already assembled to get the work started. We receive a blessing from a local pastor in Swahili and got underway.
The days task involved surveying and staking off the locations of the large footing on the sandy side of the river, drilling the anchor bolt holes for the rocky side and excavating the hole where the bridge abutment is going to be poured and then pouring the keyway. The keyway is a two-foot wide anchor piece of concrete that will be help the bridge resist lateral movement. With the Kenyans doing all the heavy lifting and digging, we made super fast progress. There were definitely leaders among the Kenyans. Mica, a very soft-spoken 35 year old business man, seemed to be allocating the tasks and making decisions. He manages a bread distribution service around Eldoret. In his quite gentle way he led the others and came up with practical ways for the team to do certain things. The Kenyans definitely do things differently. At any one point in the day there would be up to 30 guys standing around taking turns with the shovels, carrying wheel borrows full of concrete or shoveling sand, gravel or cement into the gasoline powered mixer. They were amazing workers and most of the time we found ourselves watching and supervising the job, making sure the rebar was placed right and keeping the concrete mix the right consistency. The Kenyans worked so fast that we completed two days work in the first day and found ourselves ahead of schedule.
The next day we set out to pour the 4-foot tall 3-foot wide foundation block in which the bridge structure is to sit on. The Kenyans constructed the formwork in their typical Kenyan ways, by piecing together timbers and using anything they could to get the job done. They are amazingly resourceful and while it may not look neat and tidy, it is beautiful how the structure came together. It took all day to pour the main section of the abutment, and as dusk was beginning to set, Mica smoothed out the top section and we made plans for the next day.
Doug, Mark, my Dad, and I decided to take the short walk back to the training center instead of the bumpy car ride. While we were walking a group of children followed wanting us to take their pictures and Doug ran after them and tickled them as they laughed hysterically. The children here are amazingly beautiful creations. They will come wandering down to the bridge site, some not much older than a year old, and sit and watch. They sill stare at you wondering what these crazy white men (mazungus) are doing. You give them a little smile and their little faces light up as they shyly turn away. They love to see their pictures in the camera. The can’t wait to look and laugh at themselves and their friends in the photos. You can’t help but want to take them home with you.
It is amazing to think that less than a year ago this whole region was ravage by violence. The ELI clinic has an ambulance that is used to transport people to the clinic or just to drive people to and fro. Julie, one of the missionaries here was telling us how valuable it was during the unrest. As we were talking about it, she softly mentioned how horrible it was. The area where we are staying was the center of a lot of the unrest.
As we walked back, we take a short detour through the children’s school grounds and into the children’s home. There are over 100 children living here in groups of 12 boys and 12 girls with a parent group. The system is quite interesting. We wonder into the cluster of houses as a loud bell rings letting the kids know that it is time for the daily devotions. All the kids come running with their little Bibles in hand and a couple of them offer up their hands and take us inside. There sweet little voices say come, please sit. All 100 kids squeezing into the little room as they begin singing. All the kids are AIDS orphans. They are truly beautiful. One of the older girls leads the singing. She has an amazing voice and the others follow her lead as they sing praises to God. The singing goes on for several minutes and then they begin taking turns reciting Bible verses. It was a fantastic experience to be there listening. Tiny little boys dancing and young babies sitting in older siblings laps singing. As the kids were singing a small little boy, had to be less than two comes toddling up to me and wants to sit up in my lap. I grab him and he sits down and keeps watching all the others singing and dancing. I was touched to watch these children that would be on the streets have such a wonderful home. After devotions were over the children all want to say hello shake our hands and show us where they live. As we leave, Doug is talking about the children and their singing and he says, ”That my friends, is just like heaven.” They are all truly beautiful.
It has been amazing to see how the Lord has been working during this trip. Sometimes he is subtle and sometimes he likes to beat you over the head. To the point where there is no way for you to ignore it. On Wednesday morning Chris and I were sitting out in the Gazebo watching the river reading and he turns to me and says, “hey if your going to do the devotional this morning how about using this passage for 1 Peter.” You see, someone from the team will present a reading from the Bible and we will discuss it and we will all reflect and pray. That morning we went into breakfast and my Dad was all ready to do the devotional. Well, he read the same verse that Chris and I had talked about. Chris and I just looked at each other and laughed. It was amazing, and made me realize again, even though I should never be surprised, how real God is and how he provides for us when we need it. Another example is something that happened Thursday morning.
Last night we went into Eldoret to meet with Soren, the engineer who is fabricating the bridge, and have dinner at the Eldo Grill. I have to say that was an experience. The menu is Italian, Indian, and American fare, complete with lots of interesting spellings of English words. Sort of like this blog (isn’t that right Tracy). It was the first time we able to talk with Ben since the first night in Kipkarren. You see, what Ben and Soren are doing is the crux of the whole project. They are cutting and welding the steel together to create the structure of the bridge. They are the critical path for this project.
Well, Ben was talking about the difficulties of the fabrication and how it was hard to watch each of the workers to ensure that everything is done to specifications. It is critical, because the pieces have to fit together right or the bridge will not work. Kind of like building a puzzle by creating the pieces from scratch and then hoping that they all fit together. You could tell Ben was frustrated, he even said as much. The going was slow, and their schedule was pushing the time to completion right up to the day before we leave. We needed another set of eyes to ensure quality control. Well, we get back to Kipkarren and the next morning at breakfast there is a couple, Mike and Debbie, from Pasadena that are here on a prayer mission. We get to talking and if turns out he is an Engineer who has specialized in steel fabrication for over 30 years. YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!!! Their trip to Kenya had been delayed twice before, and this time they made it. He was more than excited to help with the bridge project, and agreed to go into Eldoret to help Ben with the fabrication. It was unbelievable. God has been showing himself to us in so many ways on this trip. Those are just a couple of examples of his grace and provision.
Today we finished forming the second abutment and poured the concrete. The Kenyans worked very hard and they even began back filling where the road will be with rocks. You see, the deck of the new bridge will be much higher and there is a considerable hole that needs to be filled. The pour of the abutment was tenuous and we thought for a while that the forms may fail, which would be a catastrophe, but they held and the concrete is setting nicely. Tomorrow we are going to go to look at the log bridge, where many people have dyed trying to cross. Doug would like to construct something there that would be safer to cross.
That is my report for now. Keep praying and I thank you all for reading. Hopefully, I will be able to post more frequently know, as they have fixed the problems they are having with the network here. Sorry for now photos....the computers are fighting against us here.
God bless you all.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Heading to Africa
After 30 plus hours of travel we arrived in Nairobi around 11 at night. The humid air offered quite the contrast to cold windy weather we experienced on the tarmac at Heathrow. Stepping into Nairobi International was like stepping back into the 1970s. Blue ratty carpet and funky colors. It is easy to see that we are now in Africa. We hooked up with our Driver Samuel who took us to the Mayfield House, home of African Inland Missions.
The first thing you notice once you jump in a car in Nairobi is that the roads here are very interesting, if not downright bad. I guess they have a policy here that once things are` paved that should do it for life. Huge potholes abound and places were a new road meets an older one have three to four inch drops in pavement. Travel on the main roads here involves accelerating up to 40 of 50 and then slowing down to 10-15 mph to navigate through a maze of road obstacles. If there is a construction project, traffic just shoots over to the oncoming road across the dirt or mud or whatever. All the houses are compounds with Barbed wire and fences with guards posted at the doors. We drive from Jomo International Airport on the Mombassa Road and head into town. It is 111:45 know and there are lots of young male Kenyans just hanging out on the street.
After we were woken up at 3:30 by the local rooster we set about figuring what the next step would be. Team meeting at 9:00 so we are prepared to hit the ground running with the construction once we get out to Kipkarren. Just a short plane ride and then an hour drive to get there…more to come later.
Peace.....
The first thing you notice once you jump in a car in Nairobi is that the roads here are very interesting, if not downright bad. I guess they have a policy here that once things are` paved that should do it for life. Huge potholes abound and places were a new road meets an older one have three to four inch drops in pavement. Travel on the main roads here involves accelerating up to 40 of 50 and then slowing down to 10-15 mph to navigate through a maze of road obstacles. If there is a construction project, traffic just shoots over to the oncoming road across the dirt or mud or whatever. All the houses are compounds with Barbed wire and fences with guards posted at the doors. We drive from Jomo International Airport on the Mombassa Road and head into town. It is 111:45 know and there are lots of young male Kenyans just hanging out on the street.
After we were woken up at 3:30 by the local rooster we set about figuring what the next step would be. Team meeting at 9:00 so we are prepared to hit the ground running with the construction once we get out to Kipkarren. Just a short plane ride and then an hour drive to get there…more to come later.
Peace.....
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Sunday.......
I have been feeling sick and fighting to stay afloat with the house, work, and getting ready to go to Kenya (more on that later), so I wasn’t really thinking I would do the cross race last Sunday out at Woodward Park. In fact I was very close to just saying forget cross and selling my cross bike to remove the distraction. Well, anybody that knows me would understand that as soon as I was out there it was no turning back and I pinned a number on and went for it.
60 minutes of pure pain, suffering, dust, and mud holes of glorious goodness. It was fun and definitely recharged my batteries. It was great for me but the really cool thing was that Tracy got out there and lined up.
It was a big deal considering that it was pretty darn close to a year to the day that she walked for the first time after her accident. She looked great out there. I could tell she was nervous. I knew what a big deal it was to line up for the first time after the last year and a half of recovering, but I just kicked her in the butt and said go warm up….
Don’t know if all ya’ll know about cross racing but it is very demanding on the body. Ride as hard as you can on dirt, gravel, over loose sand and dust, through mud holes and then run up steep hills carrying your bike. Then you have to jump off and carry your bike over 18-inch tall barriers, then navigate sharp off camber turns and tricky, twisting descents with your heart rate pegged at threshold. Super hard physically and mentally. You either love it or hate it. So with that in mind, this was a good test of Tracy’s body, and she passed. Of course she was sore and tired, but her body and, more importantly, her hip handled it very well. 
By the way did I mention that she won the women’s race? Stud. So there is another one this weekend and we will be out there again. So, if you get the inkling, come check it out.
Details at http://www.homegrowncross.com/
Later
60 minutes of pure pain, suffering, dust, and mud holes of glorious goodness. It was fun and definitely recharged my batteries. It was great for me but the really cool thing was that Tracy got out there and lined up.
It was a big deal considering that it was pretty darn close to a year to the day that she walked for the first time after her accident. She looked great out there. I could tell she was nervous. I knew what a big deal it was to line up for the first time after the last year and a half of recovering, but I just kicked her in the butt and said go warm up….
Don’t know if all ya’ll know about cross racing but it is very demanding on the body. Ride as hard as you can on dirt, gravel, over loose sand and dust, through mud holes and then run up steep hills carrying your bike. Then you have to jump off and carry your bike over 18-inch tall barriers, then navigate sharp off camber turns and tricky, twisting descents with your heart rate pegged at threshold. Super hard physically and mentally. You either love it or hate it. So with that in mind, this was a good test of Tracy’s body, and she passed. Of course she was sore and tired, but her body and, more importantly, her hip handled it very well.
By the way did I mention that she won the women’s race? Stud. So there is another one this weekend and we will be out there again. So, if you get the inkling, come check it out.
Details at http://www.homegrowncross.com/
Later
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Doping
Ok,
So, to answer that question. I don't think every cyclist that wins a pro race is a doper, but when there are surprising amazing feats of strength out of somebody that usually or historically hasn't been that strong, then you have to wonder. That was the case with Ricco, and Schumacher, and to a certain extent Kohl.....
Back in the 90s that wasn't the case because everybody was doping, but now it is not that case. I have to truly believe that the sport is way cleaner now than in the past. I need to believe that, because I love this sport and have been following it for over 20 plus years. It is the only thing I follow closely.
The anti-doping advocates are out there. Pros are pissed that people keep screwing things up for everybody else. Now every time a positive comes in, a sponsor leaves or coverage gets pulled. That is not good for anybody, and not good for signing contracts. Anyway.....refining by fire, you burn away the crap to get back to the true metal, the Gold....
So, to answer that question. I don't think every cyclist that wins a pro race is a doper, but when there are surprising amazing feats of strength out of somebody that usually or historically hasn't been that strong, then you have to wonder. That was the case with Ricco, and Schumacher, and to a certain extent Kohl.....
Back in the 90s that wasn't the case because everybody was doping, but now it is not that case. I have to truly believe that the sport is way cleaner now than in the past. I need to believe that, because I love this sport and have been following it for over 20 plus years. It is the only thing I follow closely.
The anti-doping advocates are out there. Pros are pissed that people keep screwing things up for everybody else. Now every time a positive comes in, a sponsor leaves or coverage gets pulled. That is not good for anybody, and not good for signing contracts. Anyway.....refining by fire, you burn away the crap to get back to the true metal, the Gold....
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Friday, September 12, 2008
Barf
So, Lance is coming back.
Barf, hack, wretch...
That is the sound of me losing my lunch.
Just when things were getting good. Now we get to hear a whole bunch about him and not enough about all the other great, up and coming riders. Now I will have to answer a million questions about Lanc's comeback at work. Yeah, Excitement.
I think I just saw Levi jump off the Golden Gate Bridge.
Barf, hack, wretch...
That is the sound of me losing my lunch.
Just when things were getting good. Now we get to hear a whole bunch about him and not enough about all the other great, up and coming riders. Now I will have to answer a million questions about Lanc's comeback at work. Yeah, Excitement.
I think I just saw Levi jump off the Golden Gate Bridge.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Nice
Last Saturday I got out of bed at 4:30, and threw on my kit to meet Beers and a bunch of other dudes at his house to roll for 3 to 4 hours. I needed to drop a check off for the contractor so I decided to leave early and head over to his house and then turn east and make my way to Mike’s.
If I leave by 5:15 I would have plenty of time, but when I grabbed my bike….I had a flat. Now I was pushin it. Rolled out of the drive way at 5:25. Need to motor to make it. So much for a nice easy spinning warm up. Dark....Can’t really see, but blast forward.
I am rolling, cruzing the City streets. My shadow chasing and passing me, as I move under each streetlight. I remember when I was a kid when me and my partners in crime would head out at night on our bikes. I remember back then the same shadow, chasing me and then catching me. The shadow has changed over the years, but the same yellow streetlight illuminates the way. Baggy pants and ball cap, traded for spandex and Styrofoam lid. The feeling is still the same. So many great memories of warm summer nights, riding the bike. We were not necessarily looking for trouble, but occasionally we would find it.
Riding through the neighborhoods and residential streets, swapping leads with my shadow. I hit Bullard and Cedar and roll into the field north of State U. Lights are gone now and so is my shadow. Just me and the silhouette of the Sierra out in front. The turquoises blue of the early morning dawn the only light. Can’t really see the road, but I know its there. Nothing to get in the way. Rhythmic breathing and the turning of pedals. I love that feeling. Out on the bike before dawn, riding into a new day. Heading up into the hills, finally the sun hits you and the cold vanishes into a void of early day warmth. No cars……just breathing and the rhythm of the pedals turning. Black stretch of road just keeps on coming. Undulating, curving, rolling past the signs of other peoples lives. Lost in the midst of the moment. Oak trees and filtered sun are the only companions of the road. The road just keeps on going, until you make that turn into the driveway and you start dreaming of the next meeting with your shadow. The next time the wheels touch the road…..and it is nothing but breathing and turning.
If I leave by 5:15 I would have plenty of time, but when I grabbed my bike….I had a flat. Now I was pushin it. Rolled out of the drive way at 5:25. Need to motor to make it. So much for a nice easy spinning warm up. Dark....Can’t really see, but blast forward.
I am rolling, cruzing the City streets. My shadow chasing and passing me, as I move under each streetlight. I remember when I was a kid when me and my partners in crime would head out at night on our bikes. I remember back then the same shadow, chasing me and then catching me. The shadow has changed over the years, but the same yellow streetlight illuminates the way. Baggy pants and ball cap, traded for spandex and Styrofoam lid. The feeling is still the same. So many great memories of warm summer nights, riding the bike. We were not necessarily looking for trouble, but occasionally we would find it.
Riding through the neighborhoods and residential streets, swapping leads with my shadow. I hit Bullard and Cedar and roll into the field north of State U. Lights are gone now and so is my shadow. Just me and the silhouette of the Sierra out in front. The turquoises blue of the early morning dawn the only light. Can’t really see the road, but I know its there. Nothing to get in the way. Rhythmic breathing and the turning of pedals. I love that feeling. Out on the bike before dawn, riding into a new day. Heading up into the hills, finally the sun hits you and the cold vanishes into a void of early day warmth. No cars……just breathing and the rhythm of the pedals turning. Black stretch of road just keeps on coming. Undulating, curving, rolling past the signs of other peoples lives. Lost in the midst of the moment. Oak trees and filtered sun are the only companions of the road. The road just keeps on going, until you make that turn into the driveway and you start dreaming of the next meeting with your shadow. The next time the wheels touch the road…..and it is nothing but breathing and turning.
Later
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
The Games We Play
Well, I finally have some time to write something down. Why? Cause I am waiting at the airport. Another one of those trips where I spent a 14 hour day for a one hour meeting. Well this time it was two meetings, actually one meeting with some pissed off developers and a presentation to the Big Gorilla.
Actually, the developers weren’t pissed until they heard what we had to say. It’s a long story, but I will try to tell the short version. You see, I am an infrastructure planner, developers love my stories, or they hate them. Good news, or bad, but never in-between. Yes or no, never maybe. Engineers like definite answers, no room for shades of grey. Yet, there is always grey. That’s what makes a good planner, being able to ferret out the important black and white and massage the grey to make it work. What are the hot buttons, who are the people involved, it’s a game, just like any. Deliver the message the right way so the right people like it, while still making sure the engineering is sound.
Anyway, we have this client, a Big Gorilla down in the jungle. They are in a tough spot as they need to make some improvements, and they have needed to do them for a while. Well, the projects only cost about 120 million bucks. They can’t bring in development unless they make the improvements, and they can’t construct the improvements unless they get some money from developers.
Anyway, these two guys, they got 50 acres, right, a mere speck in the Big Gorilla’s forest. Well, they want to build some houses. Can’t do that unless you got some place for the crap to go, right? Well, anyway, the Big Gorilla has been telling them, “sure you can connect, all you need to do is pay Joe Engineers to do this study, right.” Except the Gorilla already knows the answer, No capacity…….So they show up at the meeting where we tell them, “Sorry mates, no capacity”. The dude looks at us and calls the whole thing a set up, and starts spouting about litigation and lawyers and all that good finger pointing stuff. We say, hey man were just the messenger, but actually they weren’t pissed at us, just the fact that they have millions of dollars on the line and yet, they have to jump through another hoop.
We felt like some chumps…..you see….the Gig Gorilla needs money, and Joe developers got some (at least right now) and Joe developers, they really want this project to happen, right. So the Big Gorilla uses us to leverage Joe developer and squeeze some lunch money out of them. Except, these Joes are not going to back down, there like that scrawny kid who fights back, kickin and scratching, held up by his shirt collar as his feet swing two feet off the ground.
We got played as the middle man, and Joe was pissed, F-bombs dropping like its going out of style…….poor schmucks. You can tell they are under the gun. Looking at losing it all, the thing is, Big Gorilla needs them, or needs their money, but Big Gorilla needs them to sweat a little so they may agree to kickin down a little more than they would otherwise.
Playin with people like that ain’t right, but we had to keep our mouths shut, cause, you never know when that BIG contract could be right around the corner, and self preservation is the name of the game in Jungle. Big Gorilla dishing out bananas to those that scratch his back.
It’s a sick game.
Actually, the developers weren’t pissed until they heard what we had to say. It’s a long story, but I will try to tell the short version. You see, I am an infrastructure planner, developers love my stories, or they hate them. Good news, or bad, but never in-between. Yes or no, never maybe. Engineers like definite answers, no room for shades of grey. Yet, there is always grey. That’s what makes a good planner, being able to ferret out the important black and white and massage the grey to make it work. What are the hot buttons, who are the people involved, it’s a game, just like any. Deliver the message the right way so the right people like it, while still making sure the engineering is sound.
Anyway, we have this client, a Big Gorilla down in the jungle. They are in a tough spot as they need to make some improvements, and they have needed to do them for a while. Well, the projects only cost about 120 million bucks. They can’t bring in development unless they make the improvements, and they can’t construct the improvements unless they get some money from developers.
Anyway, these two guys, they got 50 acres, right, a mere speck in the Big Gorilla’s forest. Well, they want to build some houses. Can’t do that unless you got some place for the crap to go, right? Well, anyway, the Big Gorilla has been telling them, “sure you can connect, all you need to do is pay Joe Engineers to do this study, right.” Except the Gorilla already knows the answer, No capacity…….So they show up at the meeting where we tell them, “Sorry mates, no capacity”. The dude looks at us and calls the whole thing a set up, and starts spouting about litigation and lawyers and all that good finger pointing stuff. We say, hey man were just the messenger, but actually they weren’t pissed at us, just the fact that they have millions of dollars on the line and yet, they have to jump through another hoop.
We felt like some chumps…..you see….the Gig Gorilla needs money, and Joe developers got some (at least right now) and Joe developers, they really want this project to happen, right. So the Big Gorilla uses us to leverage Joe developer and squeeze some lunch money out of them. Except, these Joes are not going to back down, there like that scrawny kid who fights back, kickin and scratching, held up by his shirt collar as his feet swing two feet off the ground.
We got played as the middle man, and Joe was pissed, F-bombs dropping like its going out of style…….poor schmucks. You can tell they are under the gun. Looking at losing it all, the thing is, Big Gorilla needs them, or needs their money, but Big Gorilla needs them to sweat a little so they may agree to kickin down a little more than they would otherwise.
Playin with people like that ain’t right, but we had to keep our mouths shut, cause, you never know when that BIG contract could be right around the corner, and self preservation is the name of the game in Jungle. Big Gorilla dishing out bananas to those that scratch his back.
It’s a sick game.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Demo, Dust and Respirators
I spent the 3-day weekend ripping out the majority of my new old house. Using sledge hammers, pry bars......saws all, now there is a tool. Need to take down a wall, just cut the sucker in half.
Before
After
All I can say is that the carpet in the hall.....Nasty.....!
It is amazing how much different a place can look once you rip half the stuff out.
I can see it......
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Carpets
Who ever heard of Carpet in a bathroom. Especially around the toilet. The whole place smells like pee. Yesterday a crowd of about 10 contractors descended upon the new place. Ideas were flowing like mad and all I could think about was, 'how in the hell am I going to pay for all of this".
Problems one never even think about come up, and must be fixed. I realized years ago that remodeling projects can go down two separate paths. The right way or the cheap and easy was. Sometimes the cheap and easy way works, but for big projects, they need to be done right.
That only means one thing.
$$
and lots of it..........
Check out the built in sound system
Problems one never even think about come up, and must be fixed. I realized years ago that remodeling projects can go down two separate paths. The right way or the cheap and easy was. Sometimes the cheap and easy way works, but for big projects, they need to be done right.
That only means one thing.
$$
and lots of it..........
Check out the built in sound system
Friday, June 27, 2008
Ping Pong Balls
I have so many ideas bouncing around in my head. I wish I could take some time to sit down and write them all out, explore where the thoughts take me and run with it. Ping Pong Balls bouncing around in the mind.
But, alas......time, I have found is more precious than gold these days. I sit on my bike, peddles turning and bang....Ideas. But moments are hard to come by.
I just bought a house. 1952, original owners. They are 96 and 92, and needless to say it needs some work. I have been consumed with appointments with contractors, real estate agents, and others. Here is a shot of one of the three completely outdated bathrooms. Complete with pink and black tile and carpet. Makes the skin crawl, but the house is big enough for us, has really good bones and we got it far a steal. I mean a steal......
Soon I will scribble out something interesting to me at least.
But, alas......time, I have found is more precious than gold these days. I sit on my bike, peddles turning and bang....Ideas. But moments are hard to come by.
I just bought a house. 1952, original owners. They are 96 and 92, and needless to say it needs some work. I have been consumed with appointments with contractors, real estate agents, and others. Here is a shot of one of the three completely outdated bathrooms. Complete with pink and black tile and carpet. Makes the skin crawl, but the house is big enough for us, has really good bones and we got it far a steal. I mean a steal......
Soon I will scribble out something interesting to me at least.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Cinco-De-Mayo
The light from my headlamp illuminates the numbers on my watch. 12:15 am Saturday morning. The darkness is striking, no moon, no stars, the crowns of the trees enclose any light. I look ahead and see the elliptical torch beams of the two headlamps ahead of me. Pole, pole and slide, the only sound is the familiar high pitch zip of the skins sliding forward on dirty snow. Hip flexors are really hurting now, especially on the right side as we skirt the west slope and slide around to the Silliman Creek drainage and up to camp. I stop and lean on the end of my poles, tired and aching.This trek began at seven p.m. with seven blokes, 35 minutes of walking led us to the snow where we donned our skins and began the march. Smiling faces, fresh legs and loads of food as we headed out from Lodgepole.
I was initially thinking a few hours. A few turned into six and we arrived at the open area below the west slope leading up to Silliman Lake after 1:15 am. It was not a minute to soon as backs ached and feet hurt. The last hour involved taking off the skis numerous times and hiking over pare patches, over rocks and up snow slopes to steep to skin. Each time taking off my skis involved the full effort of bending over and undoing the bindings, reaching back and flicking the cable off the back of my boot. Stand up breathing heavy. Why was I doing this to myself? Why did we embark on this death march?
We are farmers in the field, seeking the perfect crop.
Cinco-de-mayo weekend has come to be known as a time for reaping the harvest. The Sierra Nevada Mountain range produces a special crop of delicious fruit. Succulent nectar of the Gods waiting to be harvested by those willing to work to attain the place where the seeds take hold. The bounty finds refuge high up in the north facing bowls of the high Sierra where it grows all winter condensing and firming in the warm late winter and early spring sun.
The fruit we seek is shinny white alpine corn. So good it makes the heart leap with the anticipation of every bite into its carve-able meat. You can't eat this wonderful goodness, but Man and Woman have been know to feast on its pleasure until their leg muscles ache and their hearts burst with joy.
You see, the Sierra produces a special type of snow. Corn Snow, that is so tasty and carvable it is literally impossible to make bad turns. Winter snows condense to a firm base that freezes to a hard pack at night. The top layers are melted during the day by the warm spring sun and then refreeze at night. The freeze thaw action produces hard little pellets of ice that are held together by a layer of water. Surface tension provides the magic glue.
When harvested at just the right time this corn yields two to five inches of pure shread-able bliss. But you have to hit it right in the mid to late morning because if you wait to long or pick to early you either get a thick slushy mess or hard pack ice that will chatter the teeth. Mid to late morning is the best pickins depending on slope exposure and cloud cover.
But reaping this harvest is not easy and one must grunt and slog endless hours to reach the corn camp. The north bowl of Mount Silliman awaited us. Visions of smooth corn snow, and arching turns filter through the mind. Lead with the pole plant and transition to the next edge. The mechanics go through the mind and I envision the perfect fall line.
We reached camp at 1:30 am Saturday morning. Tired, dig out a flat spot, lay down the sleeping pad and float off into space. Wake up at dawn with a fresh layer of frost coating my bivy and gear. 22 degrees, not too cold. The others lounge in bed until 8 when the sun hits our camp, but I was to interested in where we were as we crawled in here in complete darkness.
Silliman creek cascades down snow covered granite slabs. The water slides down the face onto a ledge and then disappears, only to reappear 50 feet to left. The water flows down more exposed rock and then vanishes under the snow and meanders invisible to the eye through the snow covered meadow.
Shear granite monolithic faces of rock shoot up above us as the ridge line on both sides of our camp extend to the sky. These are only minor ridge lines climbing up to Silliman proper. These smaller formations elude to the majesty that climbs two thousand feet above us and around the corner.
It get itchy waiting around for the others to rise and get ready, thinking of what lay ahead in today's adventure. Couple of cups of French Roast and some breakfast and before you know it I am ready to roll.
The objective is the north bowl just west of Mt. Silliman. We climb over a small ridge and onto northwest facing slopes and climb up towards the tree line. As we travel the views open to panoramic vistas and huge open bowls of hard packed spring snow. After one and a half hours of climbing we crest a ridge and look across to the shear west face of Silliman. Orange patina cover exposed granite as Silliman rises before us. The peak sloping off gently to the south as the ridge gives way to a small shoot on the ridge line a few hundred feet down from the summit.
That looks like a good place to ski! We take a short break and wait for the others to reach our vantage point. Once together we traverse a steep slope and climb up to the bottom of the little notch. We take off our skis and begin to kick steps into the hard pack and ascend into the cleft. The snow is firm, but in no time will give way to fantastic corn skiing. We reach the steeper upper shoot and finding solid footing is becoming difficult. Beers and Hog traverse under a band of small rocks. I am thinking this is getting a little dicy, but to fall here would just mean a long slide with the work to gain this height wasted.
Hog looks a little sketched and says, "man this is getting a little sketchy."
Beers shrugs him off and says, "Come on, its cool."
Just then Beers slips and loses a ski. He grabs onto the melt edge just below the rock and rolls onto his back to catch his other one before it too starts heading down the mountain. Luckily Hern Dog is traversing just below and grabs the ski just as it starts to pick up speed. I hold back my laughter as Beers rolls back over onto his feet, down climbs the 15 feet and begins back up again. A few minutes later we reach the top of the notch.
From this vantage point we can see down into the south western basin below Silliman containing Silliman Lake. Over the next ridge is the Tablelands, Skiers Alta, and Tokapah falls and the Marble Fork of the Kaweah River. More importantly the only way to go from here on snow is down. Excitement builds as we prepare to descend. After Friday night's trudge and the two hours to climb here we finally get to take the skins off and drop it. The shoot is tight for about three turns then opens up and rolls into the steeper pitch before fully opening up to a larger bowl that continues down to the Little Lakes Basin.Beers is the first to drop in, cuts two turns then disappears over the edge. All I hear is hooping and hollering from the boys below as he carves one turn after another. Finally he appears again on the lower slopes below. After waiting patiently for Hog, it is Slater's turn. He is relatively new to tele skiing coming from a snowboard background.
Slater realizes he needs to switch his binding into a stiffer position. Those hammerhead bindings have all sorts of doohickeys and bells and whistles. I remember when bindings were a metal plate with a wire around the back and a couple of springs, with small little pieces of steel holding the toe in place. Remember those Black Diamond bindings. Before that we had three pins. Remember those? It always amazes me that these big plastic boots still have the pinholes in the toe. Leather boots and skinny skis, remember those? EC 90’s baby….ripping. Well, Slater had to get out his tool to move the adjustment, and I couldn’t wait for that so I dropped in.
One of the moments I like the most about skiing, but backcountry skiing more so, is those few seconds before gravity takes hold and friction is minimized. Standing on the top, poles strapped to your wrist, cast your eyes to the horizon and look at all the surrounding peaks. Standing in harmony with the place. Breathe deep, focus on the movements and hope that muscle memory takes hold and the subconscious mind controls all motion. Confidence must take control, any doubt and you blow the first turn. Flow, rhythm, speed, pattern, and power.
Drop in and I gain the fall line, plant the pole and bust into the first turn. One after another the subconscious motion takes control. Steep at first, bang…. bang…. bang…. and as the slope mellows the skis gain speed and then your railing it down the fall line. The body is a pure harmony of technology, nature, and dynamics. The complex algorithms of muscle movement and physics come to a crescendo and time slows as potential energy is used at a rapid pace. Silence as complete focus takes over, then the world comes back to you and you’re at the bottom and sound is again apparent. Look up and see where you came from, what took so long to get up once again is above you in a few moments of harmonic bliss.
We regroup and look down at the Little Lakes basin below. A natural half pipe of snow drains the upper bowl and looks like a playground for the off piste enthusiast. Time for big arcs and high speed turns up the side of the gully. The roller coaster ride takes us down to the lake. One snow-less large rock is our lunch spot. The sun reflects from all sides and the solar radiation warm us to the core.
Resting is great, but I can’t wait to begin ascending again as the upper ridge awaits us. A triangular shaped snowfield extending up to an unnamed 10,900-foot peak. After skiing as far as we could go we begin kicking steps just east of the exposed ridge line. Footing is fairly easy and we plod up to lofty heights. Higher and higher we ascend, Hog Man in tow with Hern Dog behind him. Beers decides to climb the ridge proper.
I get within 50 feet of the summit and begin busting through to my lower thigh. I have visions of busting through and sliding with a huge slab of snow 800 feet to the bottom of the bowl. I know those fears were unfounded, but I promised Tracy I wasn’t going to do anything stupid so I listened to my intuition and stopped here. Beers pressed on and made it to the top. From this angle I should be able to get some good shots.
A patch cloud cover had moved in and the sun peeked through illuminating the orange west face of Silliman. Beers traversed into the fall line and dropped in. This late in the day the snow was thick and it made skiing this steep face seem like eight inches of heavy sierra powder. Beers threw up globs of snow as he powered down the face.
It was about an eight hundred foot shot to the bottom and before you knew it he was down. Hog dropped in next a few yards below me. Then I was the only one left. I traversed out and stopped for a second. After working so hard to get here I wanted to make the best of this run. A confident first turn let to several more and I was in the flow. The muscles remember the motion and with each little pole plant and hop I was closer to the bottom. I carved the last turn arched over to the others and stopped. Now one said anything, just smiled.
We traversed over the ridge and began to make our way back down to camp. It was about two seventeen hundred vertical feet back down and we ripped high speed turns and shot through little gaps in rocky out crops. Wide open snow fields dropped us back under the tree line and we carved turns through the trees back to camp.
I was tired when we got back. Changed out of sweaty socks and shell pants and into my camp clothes. We were luck enough to have a bare patch of dirt next to our cooking rock and we built a fire. What a pleasure that was to have the fire while we sat and relived the day. I soon found out why the others packs were so heavy on the way in as the crew produced beer after beer from the hidden spaces of their Cordura. Since it was Cinco-De-Mayo weekend we made some fat burritos and T-Brown whipped up a killer avocado salsa with jalepenos. After I put three big daddies away the night grew dark and the fire cast a red glow on our faces. Caser began telling the worst possible jokes anyone could have ever heard and I knew it was time to hit it, and nestle into the 550 fill. I looked at my watch, 8:55 p.m.
The body was tired the next morning. I woke at dawn and looked to see that it was 22 degrees. Not too cold, but a heavy layer of frost coated my gear and bivy sack. We woke up and brewed some strong coffee, and made breakfast. We were going to try and access the top of Silliman from the west side, but after we made the long 2,000 foot climb up past Silliman lake we saw that the south slope leading up to the peak was dry. It didn’t really matter since there was plenty of good snow in the upper bowls to ski and from above Silliman Lake the run back to camp would be really good.
Above Silliman Lake the terrain was amazing. Orange granite with black water streaks circle the bottom of the alpine bowl. Tiny emerald blue, snow feed lakes sit calmly at the bottom constantly being fed by the relentless trickle of melting snow. Blue ice cascaded down the north bowl and flowed into Silliman Lake.
Near the summit ridge of Silliman a stand of wind blown Lodgepoles stood like sentinels guarding access to the top. At eleven thousand feet high on a Sierra peak half of the pines were completely without branches, their white bark standing in contrast to the dark green foliage of their neighbors.
Beers, Hog and I began climbing up the west bowl to gain access to the tallest shot with the best sun exposure. We climbed up and around a large rock outcrop to traverse above a 60 foot wide gap that connected the large snow field with the even larger one below. We reached a high point with a nice flat spot that was perfect for taking off skins and preparing to descend. It looked good to me, however Beers wanted to go higher to reach the tallest point on the face, a big point of snow that touched the hundred food shear face of orange granite above the west bowl.
He reached the highest point and we proceeded to watch him drop his ski down in the melt hole between the rock face and the snow field. That was almost a disaster, depending on the size of the hole, the ski could have slid down and been gone for good. Leaving Beers a long walk out with one ski strapped to his back. He climbed into the hole head first and squeezed his body twelve feet down and just grabbed the tail of his ski with his finger tips and pulled it out. Hog and I thought it was quite hilarious. He popped up again and with torn legs on his mid-weight underpants, a little token to remind him how lucky he was.
Well, we busted some turns down the shot, which was fairly good although a little sun cupped, the flat light making it more challenging than it needed to be.
We regrouped at the lunch rock, and began what was one of the best ski runs I have probably ever taken. It started out with some navigating through rock outcrops and small snow fields, down steep little pitches that shoot you up and over a snowy ridge until we reached the drop that contains Silliman Lake. We stood and looked at 1,700 vertical feet of perfect corn, rollers through rock outcrops to sweet intermediate wide open blue runs to a steep pitch about as long as the Face at Sierra Summit. It was awesome. The corn was perfect. Two inches of the little balls on top a soft packed base. This stuff is really hard to make bad turns on.
We all ripped down to the top of the steep pitch that dropped us into camp. I watched as the other carved down the face, then began my run. Made 10 to 15 turns and headed for a drop over a rock band, pointed the skis and flew off a 20 foot rock drop and landed perfectly on the other side (actually I saw the drop coming tried to stop and slid on my side over the two foot drop and crashed on the other side, but you can dream can’t you). Got up, skied the final hundred feet and slid into camp high on the amazing rush. It was the perfect ski run.
Sat for a few minutes, packed up the bags and started the two hour Gorilla ski run through the trees and back to the trail for the short hike back to the car. Once back at the car, we said our goodbyes and began the two hour drive home. I was ready to see Tracy and the Boys, but as we drove farther down the hill my heart still yearned to be up there. The call of the Sierra is an amazing thing, it never leaves you. The high alpine places and special little hideaways under the open sky. Where the wind blows cold in the summer and small patches of green grass line little mountain lakes. Cold granite on the palms of your hand the sound of wind pushing its way through pine needles.
Tall granite calls you to find serenity in its heights. It draws you in and pushes you to go higher. Many have discovered what they are made of up on high craggy ridges. The Lord speaks to you in such places, fills you with life, and shows you his glory. It will always have a place in my heart.
Thanks for Reading
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