Chuckanut Mountain

Yesterday morning, I met up with my friend Jason and his dog, Odin, for a hike. The weather was gray and not actively raining, but had been all morning. We parked at Arroyo and cut up Hemlock trail to the 'new' Hush-hush trail that loops up with Salal trail. It is the perfect distance to wear out some dogs and breath a little fresh air. You really get to burn your glutes (aka ass) on the way up, since you persistently gain elevation for the first 2 miles. When you get to the top and cut down into the woods, it is like entering another dimension. The trail winds broadly through dense second and third growth forests with a heavy understory of moss, ferns and salal, among other species. It began to hail and the deafening noise of the ice breaking through the canopy and the sight of thousands of ice-balls bouncing off the forest floor was magical. Through a dense, gray, low-lying cloud that tasted like dew and cooled the lungs, we emerged into a flat bench area that conjures fairy-tale imagery. Perched at the steep side of the mountain and engulfed in the mist, you can imagine the freedom you must feel if you could fly.

My magical moment is interrupted by a rush of flying dogs hurling their bodies down the narrow, muddy and windy trail at full speed, narrowly averting my knees. Such precision in what outwardly appears to be total chaos. Jason is a good hiking buddy. We are strangely similar in a lot of ways, probably a Taurus thing, but also couldn't be any more different in others. Our friendship had its start when we were both assigned to the same 1 x 1 unit at field school, and literally spent 3 weeks jammed down in a small hole together. It was nice to be able to talk one on one, without having to scream at one another in a bar. The dogs also enjoyed themselves completely, as was evidenced by the amount of mud each one was giving a ride. A thick, brown, chocolate-mud river flushed off Faelan's little body when I made her go into the creek after a stick to get rinsed off. All in all, a nice way to spend an early December day, especially considering that the ski area isn't open yet. We make do.

Jason and I at field school, July 2000.

Hiking Ireland

If life ever presents the opportunity for you to travel to Ireland, I would highly recommend it. Once there, the best way to see and experience it is to travel by foot through the country side, in my humble opinion. The landscape is stunning, the people are exceptionally friendly, history and archaeological sites abound and it is a low-stress country to navigate through. That is, if you don't mind driving really fast on the left side of extremely narrow, no-shoulder, rock-wall lined, curvy roads. It is possible to hike large distances across the open landscape in Ireland, with easement and access provided through the farmers fields (sometimes for a few Euros, of course). You can hike 20 km without seeing another soul, besides sheep and cattle.

I was lucky enough to have the experience of exploring Ireland with Josh. It was everything I could ever want in an adventure-great company and great scenery. We took the ferry from France to Cork and immediately made our way northwest to the Dingle Peninsula. Our first hike took us around the western tip of the peninsula. We parked at a cemetery and started at Ventry Harbour along the beach.

Beach at Ventry Harbour.

A very nice place for a final resting spot.

After walking the curvature of the beach, we cut upwards through farm roads. We walked along sea cliffs and then took the main road leading to Slea Head for a few kilometers before going back to dirt and grass roads.

Rocky coastline along southern margin of Dingle peninsula.

By paying a friendly farmer six Euros, we were allowed to cut up rock-lined farm roads, ever gaining elevation towards the summit of Mt. Eagle (elev. 516m). The farmer charged because his property contains the remains of several famine cottages of the 19th century that he maintains for display. The Dingle Peninsula was hit especially hard by the Great Famine of 1845-1852, partly due to its remote and isolated location. The roads to Slea Head and Connor Pass were built in the 1800s as part of relief efforts, but the soup they were rationed daily contained less calories than they expended in road building activities1. The cottages are made-up to look like the mid-1800s, and it is very eery because you will duck into a dark cottage and a whole wax family of starving peasants will be huddled inside.

Thankful for our Nutella and tortillas, we stopped and had lunch along the farmers road that was gaining us access up the mountain side.

Lunch along a rock-lined farm road. Also the last place we saw Josh's sunglasses.

There were plenty of sheep to keep us company. Besides a farmer and his border collie rounding up sheep, bringing them down in the afternoon, we didn't see anyone for the entirety of our hike.

This is how you know you're in Ireland.

The fields are an intricate patchwork of stacked rock walls. It is a beautiful man-made alteration of the landscape. These rock walls have likely been maintained in their current pattern for numerous centuries.

The farmer's fields we hiked through.

Ireland is known for its diverse botanical species and amazing micro-communities of plants tucked down in between rocks, or in crevices along the margins of streams. Pictured below is a small, unique community of plants inhabiting a small niche in the rocks. These species didn't exist across the rest of the landscape, only sporadically in a small crevice here or there.

A small niche of unique and beautiful plant organisms.

We finally summit Mt. Eagle towards the end of the afternoon and hiked down the backside of the mountain, descending through partially cut peat bogs, around Eagle Lake, through a small community and then out to the main road and back to the cemetery. What a day! That evening we went to a small local pub, drank Guinness, listened to folk music with the locals and made friends with some real characters.

View from Mt. Eagle summit.

Another all-day, 20 km +, mind blowing hike we did was located in the area known as The Burren. This landform is an expanse of gray limestone cliffs and pavement on the central west coast of Ireland. The name Burren comes from the Irish word boireann, meaning 'place of rocks'1......hmmm, fitting. The limestone of this landscape is approximately 340 million years old and formed from the shells and skeletons of marine creatures that dissolved in the warm, shallow sea that once covered future Ireland. The Burren limestone is up to 780 m thick and is exposed due to glacial scouring and subsequent erosion caused from forest removal by early farmers. The limestone beds are water-soluble and contain cracks and joints that allows water to seep downwards and sideways. As rainwater widens and deepens the cracks, an elaborate network of hollows, channels, pinnacles and underground cave formations, called karsts, are formed1.

Limestone expanses of The Burren.

People have been inhabiting The Burren for at least 5000 years. The earliest people of the Neolithic and Bronze ages built large megalithic tombs, or dolmens. Dolmens consist of enormous, upstanding slabs that form wedge-shaped or rectangular burial chambers supporting a massive lid or capstone. Sometimes all that remains of these structures, after the capstone has fallen, are 3-7 upright stones or legs. Later, around 600 BC, Celtic people settled in the area and built round or oval enclosures. By 300 AD, the forest had been opened up to allow for more grassland and grazing. Extensive forested areas remained standing before the 15th century but population later increased and the demand for timber saw the forests completely removed1.

The first ruin we came across during hiking the Burren was the stone fort of Cathair an Aird Rhois. I am not sure how old it is, but I guess Iron Age (1000 BC-400 AD) or younger. It is amazing how straight the walls are, how carefully each stone is placed. And in case the archaeology police are concerned, all this information is published in the hiking guide book cited at the bottom of the page.

Cathair an Aird Rhois Stone Fort.

Doorway to one of the fort structures. If you put your eye to the edge of the wall, all

the stones lined up perfectly, as seen on the right side of the doorway. Amazing!

After the fort, we hiked long expanses of the limestone pavement. Farmers had stacked rows of large, fractured pieces of limestone for fences. It was hard to tell if some isolated clusters of upright rocks were remains of megalithic tombs or not. I did not want to investigate very much, content to enjoy the impressive scenery of the landscape.

Stacked limestone fence.

We eventually came to the northern edge of Black Head that runs above the waters of Galway Bay. There we observed a large, triangular shaped rock cairn that was an impressive example of oppositional force.

Impressively stacked rock cairn.

Atop one of the small, unnamed summits along our hike was the large rock cairn of Dobhach Brainin, possibly of Neolithic origin.

Dobhach Brainin rock cairn.

Dobhach Brainin rock cairn.

Continued hiking west towards Black Head brought us to the Iron Aged, round-walled ruins of the stone fort Cathair Dhuin Irghuis. It was too perfect that a single, beautiful, pink, Hyacinth-like flower grew in the center of the structure.

Stone Fort Cathair Dhuin Irghuis.

The outer round wall of Cathair Dhuin Irghuis.

Shambled entrance to fort Cathair Dhuin Irghuis.

We were only able to explore a few areas of Ireland, but what we saw was breathtaking. I could 'waste' huge portions of my life doing nothing but this.....hiking around looking at interesting history, archaeology and geology. I will return someday to explore this emerald isle more thoroughly. And the sun sets on the western shore of Ireland.

1 Bardwell, S., H. Fairbairn and G. McCormack
2003 Walking in Ireland. Loneley Planet Publications, Melbourne, Australia.

This One is For the Guys

And to the guys who wanted me to tell CamE she looks hot in her uniform.....
And to the guys who wanted to know if Allison and I made out......
And to those that said it 'warmed their cockles'......
Boy, boys, boys......it was the most innocent of post, I thought.

This One is For the Ladies

Man, there really are some mean spirited people out in this world. It brings me down when others act that way. It is surprising I'm not more jaded than I am........passing the baton to a whole new generation of cranky, vindictive archaeologists. I will not succumb! Sometimes it only takes an incident like this to remind you to appreciate and be grateful for those kindred-hearted people in your life, your friends. Somehow, with all of your personal faults, quirky habits, and annoyances they still like you and think you're a good time. Crazy. So, this entry goes out to some of my best girlfriends.

My inspiration for this entry came after I received a phone call from Iraq at o' dark-thirty this morning from CamE, my best friend who is currently stationed at Tallil. It was great to hear her voice and I was pleased to find out that her morale is doing well and that the convoys she goes on don't sound super dangerous. She whacked her head good on the radio in her rig and gashed it wide open, so she is currently recovering from that. She can't get her helmet on, so what to do? She is getting some alone time since her platoon/brigade (I forget all the lingo) is out and about. After some weird peeping-tom at the shower action the other night, I advised her not to go anywhere alone. There are so many things to worry about as far as her safety is concerned while she is over there. I can't wait until she is back safely. I want to share some of my favorite photographs of hers that she sent me. What a trooper. She could always kick my ass when we were kids too. She has been my best friend since we were 2 years old. We grew up together and went to school together and there is nobody in this world that understands each other like we do.......we have shared so many key moments, she truly is my sister. I love you Cam!!

Click on pictures to enlarge.
Her base.

Classic CamE humor.

Enjoying her MRE, which stands for 'Meals Ready to Endure'.

Camels.

Doing her thing, head-gasher in upper rear of photo.

You go, girl.

Another dear friend, Erin, is having a baby. This is a huge moment and a marked change in our lives. I am very excited for her and I am so happy that the baby is growing healthy and strong. She is having a little girl and is due March 10th. Like we always say, spring babies are the best (right Jen?), but then we may be bias since ares are in March and April. She is going to be a great mom and her husband Doug is smart, down to earth and laid back-very important attributes. Being the daughter of a man that took me bird watching and hiking a lot as a young child, Doug will be an awesome dad. Molly will be a top-notch female. What a lucky little baby. Here is her picture when she was just the size of a kumquat. She is no longer just the 'little bean' that she used to be. She has organs and lungs, little fingers and toes and is moving around. I can't wait to meet her! Good luck, Erin!

The kumquat at ~10 weeks.

My bosom buddy and moon-sister, Allison, is also a blessing in my life. She is a woman of adventure and she inspires me to break out of my shell. I am a bit more reserved and shy than her, but not because I really want to be. Although, to my credit, I befriended her by randomly asking her if she wanted to go camping in the snow, in the Utah Manti-La Sals and ramble the country side with me for three days. I could just tell she was a cool chick. She had just started working with me at Carver's on Main St. in Durango, CO, back in early '03. We had a blast, rambling the canyon rims, scampering full speed down rocky hill slopes, through the scrub oak, pinons and junipers. We whipped and tore my Subaru wagon up snowy and muddy forest service roads. I remember asking her if she was scared and she simply said, "no, I can tell you've done this before". My kind of gal. We camped on a flat sandstone bench that night, under the bright Utah stars, in the middle of nowhere. We've been buddies ever since. She lives in Costa Rica for most of the year, living on the land and organically farming. During the summer of '06 when she was back, I drove to northern California to visit her. We headed out for another one of our adventures together, with a trip to the coast. On our way over the coast range, we hiked in the Redwoods and then went to a natural hotspring that she had been to before. We were on a bit of a schedule, since we needed to make our way to the coast and find a camp spot before dark. The lady at the front desk of the hotspring informed us that they were full with too many people and that if we wanted to go in we would have to come back later. Well, that just didn't jive with our plan, and she was going in there, dang it. The place was a resort, compound-like thing, so we just acted like we were going to hang out and wait or look around. With much coaxing, she convinced me to a) get totally naked in front of strangers and b) sneak into this place and poach the hotsprings. Both are things I would never have done on my own, but it was also the most fun I had had in a long time! Our law breaking wasn't done that night yet. You aren't supposed to camp on the beaches in CA, but that rule also doesn't fit into Allie's world view, bless her heart. So, we totally poached that as well, and it was one of the most gorgeous and magical nights I have spent. The marine air and fog was a silver mist over the stars and we slept in the sand to the rhythm of the waves crashing into the small cove where our tent was pitched. We just got up in the morning and broke-down the evidence real fast and then hung out all morning like we just got there......perfect.

On the Oregon Coast together in late fall of '07, after a big storm....hence the large piles of driftwood.

Allie being goofy.

Laughing uncontrollably by the campfire together.

I am also thankful for the quality time I have recently gotten to spend with my good friend Shelby. She and her husband (also a great friend!) have graciously allowed me to stay with them while I was in Seattle, and I have loved riding the bus from school and going to lunch and just hanging out with her. Our lives are so crazy, especially hers, that we truly appreciate just getting to slow down and hang out like old times for a couple of days. We hope to get out and do some hiking over the holiday break.

And my friend Jen. We have shared some pretty cool adventures and moments together, and she has been a huge part of my life for the last 9 years. Her laughter, positive energy and determination are wonderful to be around. We have traveled and climbed and skied all over the place, and I have gotten to spend some of the best times in my life with her. Like splitting one celebratory beer 5 pitches up a wall at Red Rock, or riding the large granite formations in Joshua Tree, one which looked exactly like erect male genitalia, or living and climbing in Maple Canyon Utah for close to a month, or our debotcherous early-season, no-snow trip to Whistler, to name a few. What a gal.

She isn't laughing like that because she just biffed it.....no that wasn't it.

Kicking it at Smith rock, old school.

Topping out a route at Joshua Tree '02.

The loss of one dear friend has made me want to let everyone know how special they are to me and how much their friendship enhances my life. Thanks, gals......you're all an inspiration to me.

The Gray Calm

The gray drizzle has descended upon Western Washington and it is dark by 4:30pm. I pop a vitamin D tab, my artificial sunlight, and dig out my souwester, the one that gets people calling me 'fish n' chips'. Necessary equipment for the ensuing dog walk. There is something soul nourishing, cozy and comforting about the weather during this time of year. I grew up in it and actually like it, for a little while. About February, it gets old, but then it doesn't matter because all precipitation is likely falling as snow in the mountains. And then, nothing else matters at all. I can't wait for Baker to open, but this year won't be the same without Ryan. We will have to make him proud, or jealous.......

Love

Burke Museum

I am doing research at the Burke Museum at UW in Seattle, WA this entire week. They have an amazing comparative collection of mammal and bird skeletons. So, I brought the archaeological remains from my site (45SK46, Deception Pass) down here so that I could make accurate identifications. This is so much fun! Stay tuned for my full narrative, and some really cool pictures, including one of a Walrus baculum......if you don't know what that is, you are in for a treat. Happy Thanksgiving!

The Texas Panhandle

Lake Meredith, TX

In July of 2008 I went on my most exotic archaeology adventure to date. I may not be getting as much action lately, but what I do get is quality. Oh, the panhandle of Texas in July. An archaeology firm in Missoula, MT contacted me to be a crew-leader for a project based out of Fritch, TX. The gig was for the National Park Service and included the Lake Meredith National Recreation Area and the Alibates Flint Quarries National Monument. Our task (myself, the project director and two techs) was to relocated 204 previously recorded sites within three weeks and update the ASMIS database with photos and descriptions of erosion, pot hunting, recently exposed features, overall site condition, etc.

It was an all day flight down there and I finally arrived in Amarillo, delayed, near 11:00 pm. I met up with the project director, Shari, and we made our way towards the rigs we had rented for the adventure. One was a normal, black, jeep-thing and the other was the HMS Expedition, champagne color with leather and wood trim. I felt like P-Diddy or whatever he is calling himself these days, in case anyone still cares. Of course, I opted to drive the pimp-mobile, plus I think the size of it scared the hell out of Shari. I felt really funny in that thing. Very soccer mom, or daughter of oil tycoon.

We roll our rigs out to the tiny town of Fritch, 45 miles NW of Amarillo, and into the parking lot of the "Lone Star Inn". Wow. What a shocker that was. It was raining to beat a hurricane. I had to kick a large toad the size of cantaloupe out from the foyer as I rang the doorbell at 1:00am to wake up the poor Indian family sleeping inside. Once we make our way to our rooms, up the rain-soaked and rot-sagging staircase to the second floor, I go inside to wash my hands of the airport grime. Exhausted, I am mindlessly lathering away when out of the sink drain crawls a 3" scorpion. Holy shit. After killing it by crushing its little body in the sink stopper repeatedly, I proceeded to tear the entire bed and room apart to make sure he didn't have any friends. Did I mention that this place was a total dive? My air-conditioner unit was literally duct taped to the wall and there was a severely crusty poop-smear within the toilet bowl. Ed did make a good point when he said I was lucky to even have the air conditioner. There were also questionable stains on the sofa. I told myself it was just yogurt. We stayed there for a week and then transferred over to the Best Western in Borger, where life was grand. We suddenly had amenities such as wireless internet, a swimming pool, fresh, hot breakfast and cookies and iced tea in the lobby. Talk about paradise.

Everyday we drove out into the middle of nowhere and hiked in, looking for sites and recording attributes about the ones we could manage to relocate. The panhandle must be the Bermuda-triangle of Trimble GPS units, because we had 4 and none worked. Had to do it the old fashioned way. There were a lot of rattle snakes in the first area we went to. The habitat was just perfect....open with small sage and yucca and plenty of small mammals. All the wildlife encounters in the first few days was a bit too much to make you feel very comfortable at any one time. They say that everything, the plants and the animals, all want to stab, sting, bite or scratch you. It is hostile country. This 9-button rattler just about got me. It was sprawled out sunbathing when I came hiking along. I saw it and it saw me and as I turned around to run the other way, it reared up and came up to about my waist with its mouth completely outstretched. Then it coiled up and got busy to being angry.

The one that almost got me.

This incident took a few minutes off my life, I am positive. Extremely beautiful creature, though hard to appreciate when it wants to bite and preferably kill you.

Then we hiked through a gun range. Note the full-leg snake chaps borrowed from Arlene Wimer, the awesome park ranger we were working for. I wasn't taking any chances after the day before. It was in the 90-100 degree temperature range. Wearing those chaps took fortitude.

A K-car that had seen better days.

The topography and geology were gorgeous and the people I worked with were super cool, hard workers. We had some fun together. Working in the heat together by day and going to the same 3 crappy restaurants together by night. Borger night-life is hurtin' for certain, but there was one dive bar that had some cheap American beer during happy hour. Some of the characters in that bar were straight out of a stereotypical movie. No teeth, totally wasted, mullet, not forming complete sentences, making animal noises, hitting on you from across the room, while Kid Rock and Lynard Skynard play repeat on the jukebox. The 18 year-old waitress had what Jamie, my friend on the crew, called "hungry butt". Her short shorts disappeared in certain places. Sorry, I don't have a photo of that. There were even disgusting fly-swatters at the tables. Classic mid-west, the land of my people. But, I digress. Back to the real scenery.

Blue Creek Drainage- great for braffing, booty-stomping, getting stuck, whatever you want to call it.


Yes, this pretty little plant also has thorns.

Remains of a rock-wall alignment.

Hearth feature.

Bifacial scraper made of the beautiful and colorful Alibates Flint material.

Super-rad Arlene and the almost-as-cool Alibates Flint producing dolomite outcrops.

Turtle petroglyph.

Ungulate petroglyph and anthropogenically formed 'cupules', function unknown.

Clearly defined room with intact walls. This was part of a huge village near the petroglyphs.

Well, due to numerous complications, we fell short of our goal of 204 sites, but that didn't mean there was a shortage of terrain covered. It certainly wasn't because of a lack of effort. The things that held us up were out of our control. Such is life.

I had a really great experience and was lucky to see archaeology in a part of the country that I had not spent time in before. The high plains region is unique and beautiful. The archaeology resembles that of the four corners area, (material types, pottery, multi-roomed houses) but has distinct differences due to the plains influence (lower elevation and better bison habitat, among other things). And so, in spirit of some Texas lingo I picked up on this stint, I'm chucking the deuces to this entry.

Camel-With-No-Humps

When I was at Meridian Middle School, 'they' (especially a boy named Ryan Aarestad, damn that alphabetical seating) started calling me Indiana Alvis in 5th grade because they figured out I wanted to be an archaeologist when I grew up. Remember, Indiana Jones was huge in 1989. The Last Crusade had just come out, and every time our band teacher Mr. Mack didn't want to teach, he would play that movie. Over and over.

I feel the same way, Indy.

I was kinda a big dork back then....thank goodness that has changed. I was bored with the curriculum and asked my 5th grade teacher, Mrs. Hohman, aka battle-axe, if I could do a report on the Aztecs, Incas and Mayas of central and south America and then present it to the class. Product of private school PTSD or what? Wasn't much going on out in north Whatcom Co. After battle-axes' jaw came off the table, she thought that was a good idea. I wrote a pretty big synopses of their history and culture. Man, did the other kids think I was nuts and henceforth the nickname. That was also the year I dressed up as a pack of Camel cigarettes for Halloween and wore it to school. Its really cool when your dad is an artist. Then they started calling me 'camel with no humps', but that is another story.

So, I guess I am going to give this a whirl. Several recent influences and events have contributed to my blogging interest. This account was created after Josh and other friends (you know who you are) egged me on.....'everybody was doing it, just set-up a blog Camille, you know you want to'. Although, deep down inside I knew I probably wouldn't post on this side of the next decade. But, in the back of my mind, it was something I wanted to come back to. Maybe I had to soak in the essence of other peoples blogs first to get creatively inspired. Maybe I just needed to get enough of my thesis written so that I didn't feel guilty for spending time on extra-curricular activities again. I have been closely following my friend Jennifer Triplett's blog Pedal Power as well as my bike buddies from B'ham and their blog Slice O' the Ham. Jen is not only an amazing chick, but an awesome writer and her passionate and revealing entries while she grapples to accept the loss of her best friend and husband Ryan, have been inspiring and tear-jerking to say the least. Oh yeah, and the dudes from Bellingham are pretty cool too. I believe it can be a very cathartic, eye-opening and centering activity, whether the subject matter is funny or heavy. Me and my lofty expectations.

It can't all be about archaeology, that is for sure. My girlfriend Erin is pregnant, my best friend/sister CamE is over in Iraq driving around in a bomb magnet and unexpected, soul-crushing tragedy struck in September as the world lost a radiant man. Some heavy stuff has gone down. The type and amount of archaeology gigs I have accepted lately have led to minimally interesting stories. Oh, don't worry, there have been some, but they can easily be summarized and recapped in one post I believe. Snakes. Big, angry, venomous snakes. I have great hopes for 2009....graduation, interesting jobs, making money, skiing, backpacking adventures, traveling, working on something besides my thesis. Ahhhhh. I can see light at the end of the tunnel. Hopefully that's not a train.

Deception Pass on a beautiful, fall afternoon.