It’s hard for me to come up with anything that makes this movie special. Ben Kingsley won an Oscar for his performance, but I have to suspect it’s at least partly due to the contrast between the crass, swearing character of Don Logan and other Kingsley roles such as Ghandi. All the acting is good, and there are funny jokes and gags in the midst of the dark story. I enjoyed it despite the fact that it didn’t seem to go anywhere with all these high-quality elements.
We were planning on two or three days of hiking and climbing in Vedauwoo, so we didn’t hurry there on Saturday. We arrived after noon and I took off to scout out climbing within hiking distance. I ended up scouting for a couple of hours, enchanted as always with this place, always drawn to look a little further. When I finally get back we set up a cozy camp, grill salmon for dinner, and plan to get an early start to climb in the morning.
It’s a grey, cold morning. We push ourselves to leave the sleeping bags, make coffee, and put together our climbing packs. The day doesn’t get any warmer, but we push off anyway, hiking through aspen groves and beaver ponds. Our route offers great views of Reynold’s Hill, the MRC, the Crystal Freeway, Turtle Rock, and Valley Massif, our destination. By the time we reach it and find our way to the base of the climbs, it’s sprinkling rain. We eat our lunch and watch the sky grow darker and colder. At last we give up on climbing and continue our hike in light rain. Vedauwoo compensates our climbing loss with many sights: swimming beavers, soaring hawks, a giant blue heron, a tree that continues to grow after falling over, an old bee hive, and many other things. We can’t help but love the place.
This is Jezze, believe it or not, in her fashionably short summer haircut. I’ve never seen what she looks like under all that hair - like a little lamb whose fleece is black as coal!
This book was given to me by a man who’d been touring the world by bicycle for 10 years while I was on my own little ride around the country. I expected a book about adventurous explorers, and there is some of that, but I quickly learned that most of the exploration of the shorter tributary of the Nile occurred at the side of military invasions. Moorehead captures the drama, scale, and consequences of these invasions, and paints a convincing picture of what life must have been like for both the invaders and natives. I learned many things I didn’t have a clue about, like the fact that Egypt was ruled for generations by Russian slaves called Mamelukes. I feel almost familiar with Egypt, the Sudan, and Ethiopia after this read, even if the feeling is destined to fade quickly.
Having done some desert hiking last summer, we really related to the three half-caste aboriginal girls who escape a white reculturation camp to walk home through hundreds of miles of desert while being pursued by trackers and police. Based on a true story, it doesn’t seem to be over-dramatized. It’s definitely critical of the whites in power at that time (1931), but not needlessly heavy-handed.
This tree is fairly widespread here in Colorado, and becomes more so as you go north along the continental divide. It tends to grow in thick stands, especially in burn areas. In fact the spiny, pitch-covered cones rely on heat from forest fires to open and can stay on the branch for several years.
Needles grow in groups of two, and the wood is fairly light and flexible. At higher elevations the tree can grow in more squat and contorted shapes.
This trail starts fairly high up the south side of Guanella Pass, intersects the Rosa Lee trail, and continues to Abyss Lake. From there one could climb Mount Evans and Mount Bierstadt without the throngs that crowd the other routes to those summits. We had a leisurely breakfast at the Cutthroat Cafe in Bailey, and didn’t make it up to Abyss Lake, but it makes for a great day hike too. The grade is gentle the trail folows Scott Gomer Creek up through the woods, eventually providing views of high peaks to the southwest that I thought might be the Collegiate Peaks.
I’ve been looking forward to this concert for months. The first half, the Colorado Symphony Orchestra playing Sibelius’ Finlandia and Symphony No. 5 in E-flat major, was an excellent primer. Jeffrey Kahane, the conductor, gave a really fine introduction, without notes, and seemed to revel in the performance. I had heard Finlandia before, but it was much better live. The Symphony was a little relentless for me, especially with the tremolo string section, but still very evocative. It gave me visuals of exploring a frenetic mountainscape as a tiny flying particle, just moving and observing. The main event, though, definitely came after the intermission.
Olga Kern emerged on the stage in a spare evening dress, sat at the piano, and launched into the Piano Concerto No. 3 in D minor by Rachmaninov. From the first second she seemed to throw every ounce of her being into the piano in a mad incantation, bent on bringing you to the brink of helplessness, easing you back to pure awe, then caressing and soothing to keep you breathing just enough to make it through the next volley. I’ve never seen anything like it. Both the composition and the performance seemed to be gushing into this world from another realm, as if she had opened a wormhole and was possessed with the desire to pry it open further. During the performance a man slumped over in his chair and was rushed out in a wheelchair by two police officers. I felt a moment of envy at the opportunity to go at such a moment, and the music seemed to reinforce that feeling. It could have been madness, or brilliance, or the place where they meet, but I’ll never forget it.
You can find more information on Olga Kern at harmonia mundi, including a discography and concert schedule. We heard that she’s playing in Vail on June 26, and are already trying figure out how to go. Don’t miss out if she’s playing near you.
We didn’t have much time, but we figured we could squeeze a climb or two in (yes this post is about climbing) before meeting my Dad for a concert. Just like we thought, the place was clearing out in the afternoon, and we got right on a popular route. It was hot, but tolerable. A few people mentioned seeing rattlesnakes, but we didn’t spot any. I changed into my concert attire in the parking lot before rushing off to be just a little late for dinner.
I was looking forward to seeing the university’s “mighty Wurlitzer” organ played, and Kevin Utter did not disappoint. Blind from birth, Kevin’s seeing eye dog waited patiently beside the giant organ console during the entire show. Both Kevin Utter and his saxophone accompanyist Harry “Doc Fergy” Ferguson are really good at educating the audience while making you feel like you are attending a private performance for good friends. I haven’t seen anything like the Wurlitzer before. An upright piano sits at stage right and plays from time to time as one of the organ’s effects. There are the usual pipes, and you can clearly hear a drum kit and triangles behind the walls, also played from the organ. Kevin accompanied the silent Laurel & Hardy pie fight movie with help from an assistant who gives him cues about the action onscreen. All of this together made for a very unique, fun show.
All recorded:
