The Pros and Cons of Trekking Poles

I tried out a bunch of new gear on my Beaver Brook hike last Saturday, including new boots, a camelback and a pair of trekking poles. Yes, trekking poles. The guy at REI said all the employees had gotten some as a Christmas gift, and after he tried them once he loved them. So I figured I'd give them a shot.

Pros:

1. They definitely provided extra stability on uneven areas, like having four feet.
   
2. They spread the workout to my upper body. I'd never felt a hike in my shoulders before.
3. Building on that last one, they definitely reduced the impact on my knees, especially in some of the stretches where I was doing more downhill climbing.
4. They let me test rocks that could have been unstable with something other than my foot.

Cons:

1. The grips irritated the skin between my thumbs and index fingers. Not to the point that they blistered, but it was still annoying.
2. It was awkward trying to do anything else with my hands -- eat a Clif bar, take a picture, etc.
3. I found myself looking down at where I was putting the poles way too much instead of enjoying the scenery.
4. And of course, I felt like a dork.

So after one use I'd say the jury is still out. Some of the cons may go away as I get more comfortable with them. Stay tuned.

Vail, Part II

So after yesterday's cliffhanger I'm sure you're all anxious too know what happened to us after we finished -- or THOUGHT we'd finished -- yesterday's hike.
Well...
The gondola broke down. We were waiting in line to get on and an employee informed us it wasn't working and might not be for another hour or two, and once they got it started again they would probably not take on any new passengers and just let off the people who were currently stuck on it.
Faced with few choices, I decided we should just suck it up and hike down Berry Picker. The kids were troopers -- they understood there weren't any other good options. So off we went.
The hike did not lack for impressive vistas. This is the view to the northwest.
An obliging Fritillary.
The view back to the northeast.
One of the wooded areas we went through had the biggest aspens I've ever seen.
I saw exactly three patches along the entire trail that could have given "Berry Picker" its name. Still probably a higher standard than they applied before naming Lion Down.
There were some pretty steep sections, but the kids navigated all of them without incident.
I wasn't so fortunate, turning my left ankle right before we reached this point. My yelp of pain was loud enough that some other hikers further down the trail hollered back to make sure I was all right, which I was. Other than having a low pain threshold, anyway.
A big patch of Cow Parsnip.
I'm at a total loss as to what this tiny wildflower is. Can't find anything even close in any of my online resources.
Where there's a rock suitable for posing, Zak and Taryn are only too happy to oblige.
By the time we were close to the base the gondola had started moving again. The good mood the kids had maintained for most of the descent began to fade until they noticed there weren't any people on it.
We straggled back into Lionshead Village, Taryn especially looking like a refugee. I went back to where we had originally bought our gondola ticket and got a refund without any hassle from a gracious and understanding young man named Rob from Chautauqua, New York. Good customer service usually goes a long way and this was no exception. Nicely handled, Vail!
Unbelievably to me, it was after 4:00 by this point. So it had been five hours since we'd first gotten on the gondola that morning. All told, we walked about seven miles.
I promised the kids they could eat anywhere they wanted for being such rock stars and they chose Burger King because of their Pokemon promotion. But poor Taryn fell asleep almost immediately once we got in the car, so Zak forlornly watched out the window as we passed BKs in Silverthorne and Downieville before she finally woke up right before Evergreen.
Our weekday hiking program definitely ended with a bang. I'm tremendously grateful that the kids and I got the chance to do these things together, and Danelle even confessed to being a little jealous. Hopefully we'll get in some weekend expeditions down the road!

Lookout Mountain

Even with a broken wrist and Zak and Taryn's company, Wednesday was still hike day! I did ratchet down the degree of difficulty quite a bit, as we just went to Lookout Mountain.
The Nature Center was FANTASTIC. The place looked like it had just been built yesterday -- completely spotless and everything in working order. Recycled materials throughout and helpful staff. The kids especially enjoyed putting on headphones and listening to different animal sounds.
Zak brought our old digital camera and took this fetching portrait of Taryn. Everybody had granola bars, so I'm not sure why she insisted on eating the map.
Of course, put a camera in the hands of any 7-year-old and you're inevitably going to get a picture like this.
A short hike -- less than a mile and a half for the whole loop -- but lots of wildflowers. Mountain Harebell here, as identified by a member of the Nature Center staff.
Yarrow, I think. Taryn said her favorite part of the hike was "when you and Zak took pictures of the flowers."
MMMOOOOOOTTTHHHHHRRRRAAAAA!!!!
Definitely Blue Flax.
The view to the northwest. Oddly, I couldn't find an unobstructed overlook.
Downtown Denver just visible through the haze to the east.
If I needed to put a radio tower somewhere, I'd probably pick Lookout Mountain, too.
Another Zak shot, and a darned good one. These Variable Checkerspots were all over the place.
The Nature Center staff were at a complete loss to identify this small wildflower, and so am I. UPDATE: Jefferson County Weed and Pest Management Specialist Alicia Doran e-mailed me with a positive ID -- Orange agoseris. Thanks, Alicia!
Sulphur Flower.
Another Checkerspot on a daisy.
And yet another. Hard NOT to take pictures of such colorful and willing subjects (insert Paris Hilton joke here).
My largest wildlife sighting yet this season -- an actual deer! Like how I focused on the weeds in the foreground for...um...artistic effect?
We actually spent three hours there between potty breaks, resting on benches, exploring the Nature Center and actual hiking. A fairly flat walk -- I highly recommend it if you have little ones!

If It Has Cheerleaders, That's Just A Bonus

The Celtics' beatdown of the Lakers last night to clinch their 17th NBA Championship has been all but drowned out in the sports media by the continued dumbfounded amazement over Tiger Woods' U.S. Open victory on Monday. I even got in on the act of singing his praises, which is sort of the blogging equivalent of pouring a bottle of water into the Pacific Ocean.

Tiger's accomplishment seems all the more remarkable now that's its been revealed that he was playing with two stress factures in his left shin and is going to miss the rest of the season to have reconstructive surgery on his left knee. My buddy Derek Thomas actually got to see Friday and Saturday's rounds in person as his Father's Day present and could only come up with the world "unbelievable" to describe what Tiger did. Until we invent a better word I guess that will have to do, but it certainly seems woefully inadequate.

As an aside, I got a bike pack and a kitchen garbage can for Father's Day. But Danelle astutely pointed out that it's not like I wanted to go to the U.S. Open anyway. And it is a really nice garbage can.

Something else that's been brought up a few times in the wake of Tiger's triumph is the always lively debate about whether or not golf is a sport. There's no denying Tiger is an athlete, but if you can do something for five days on one leg (or with the benefit of a cart), is it really a sport?

I'm always amazed at how fans of almost every competitive endeavor seem to desperately crave being acknowledged as a sport, like it somehow makes the activity more important or worthwhile. At the same time, people who think something SHOULDN'T be considered a sport are often just as passionate about their stances. As if its going to personally cost them something to let another pursuit into the exclusive "sport" club.

I had a boss once who had been a competitive figure skater, and we had a number of spirited debates about its inclusion in the "sports" category. Thanks to her, I was able to graduate beyond the compelling assertion that "it just doesn't seem like a sport" to something a little more concrete -- a set of criteria for making this important determination.

Without further ado, here's how to definitively determine whether a particular diversion or pastime qualifies as a sport. Well, as definitive as most things on the interwebz.

1. The outcome has to be determined significantly more by objective factors than subjective ones. Granted, there's a level of subjectivity in everything -- Was that holding? Is the ump's strike zone a little wide today? Block or charge? But at the end of the day, the outcome of something like a football, baseball or basketball game is decided by who has the most points (or runs). A completely objective measurement.

But things like figure skating and gymnastics have judges who employ fairly subjective criteria to make their evaluations. How "artistic" was that performance? Basketball teams don't win games if one of their players has the prettiest jumpest shot, nor does a baseball team if its player has the sweetest swing. So my boss' activity was knocked out of the debate right out of the gate.

Note that professional boxing also fails this test. How "well" did someone box? What the heck does that mean? Amateur boxing, however, gets it right. You land a punch -- which is well-defined -- you get a point. You have the most points, you win the match. How well judges adhere to the established criteria is another debate entirely.

2. The amount of energy expended has to exceed a certain threshold. I don't know exactly what that threshold is. But I've decided in my own head that bowling and golf don't make the cut, let alone things like chess and tiddly winks. They can be competitions, contests, even battles. But not sports. I'm willing to bet that if anyone who feels differently about golf ever saw specimens like John Daly or Phil Mickelson naked (not that I ever have, but I'm just saying), they'd be forced to agree that there's no WAY these people can be said to play a sport for a living.

So take the case of an outfielder who's pitcher throws a no-hitter, never allowing a ball out of the infield. Said outfielder comes to bat three times in the game and strikes out looking all three times. His physical activity consisted of jogging from the dugout to his position and back nine times, and walking from the dugout to home plate and back three more. Sorry, John Kruk. No sport for you today.

3. The human involved has to do most of the work in order for it to be a sport for the human. I'll buy the argument that race car drivers have to be in good physical condition to do what they do. But other than Fred Flintstone, nobody propels a car by his or her own power. The internal combustion engine is doing a lot more work. Ditto for horse racing and the horses, but bicycle racing meets this requirement.

4. There has to be the intention of having a winner and a loser when the activity begins. So a hockey or soccer game (or even a baseball all-star game) that ends in a tie works, because someone was supposed to win going in. But hiking, mountain biking, swimming and so on miss the mark, unless there's a race involved. If it's just you, it's not a sport. However physically exhausting, the lack of competition takes you out of the sports discussion.

I actually went for years with just these four benchmarks, until my friend Bobby Mestas pointed out that a barroom brawl fit the bill. Since he was right and I didn't feel that a barroom brawl should qualify, a new standard had to be added.

5. There has to be a governing body or mutually agreed upon set of rules. The rules don't even have to be explicit, they can be understood. Three-Mississippi rush. No tag backs. Ghost men advance one base on a single. Whatever they are, everyone involved has to agree upon them for the most part. The guy who brings a gun to a knife fight (to paraphrase Sean Connery in The Untouchables) may win, but he wasn't exactly sporting about it.

So there you have it. Yes, I've clearly spent far too much time thinking about this topic in my life. But at least it's made for some fun debates.

Wonderful exercise, debating. See item #2 above for why it's not a sport, though.

Maybe John Hughes Should Have Been a Stripper for a Year

Let me try to pre-empt the inevitable backlash this post is likely to create by saying I LIKED Juno. I thought it was cute, clever and entertaining. But I've never understood the amount of critical acclaim it's gotten.

I heard rave reviews for the film from two fairly opposing ends of the taste spectrum -- Oprah Winfrey and the guy who performs in a horse costume as Miles, the Denver Broncos mascot. With that sort of support, I figured it was something I needed to see. But for the first half an hour or so I was really struggling to figure out what exactly I was watching. Maybe I was too caught up in the overall social and pop culture context, but the movie I was seeing wasn't the one I had expected.

Then it hit me. I was watching Pretty in Pink. And once I realized and accepted that I was able to really enjoy the rest of the movie.

Hear me out a minute -- that comparison is in no way intended as a slight. John Hughes wrote the script for how many of us growing up in the '80s either thought or wished our lives were, or both. It just took him a bunch of films to cover it all. Maybe the Academy was rewarding Diablo Cody's ability to squeeze all the good stuff into one story when it gave her the Oscar for Best Original Screenplay. That presumes that her version of Some Kind of Wonderful doesn't come out next year.

Whatever the case, here are six comparisons between the two films that I hope help illustrate my point:

1. Just when you want to willingly suspend your disbelief and think you're watching real people dealing with real problems, the dialogue gets a little TOO snappy and you're jarringly reminded that somebody wrote this.

At the risk of sounding too disconnected from modern youth, I'm willing to bet that most conversations haven't evolved beyond the, "What do you want to do? I don't know -- what do you want to do?" level of the discourse I had with my friends. As much as we may have wished we could address the question of what we wanted to drink with something as glib as Duckie's, "Oh you know, beer, scotch, juice box... whatever," response, we didn't really. Nor do I guess there are many (any) current teenagers who, when their friends ask if it's them on the phone, reply, "No, it's Morgan Freeman. Do you have any bones that need collecting?"

2. High school kids are the most advanced beings in both universes. Fathers have three functions -- generate revenue (however meager), provide transportation and dispense salt-of-the-earth, blue-collar wisdom. Other adults are mostly shallow and flawed, or appear for the sole purpose of uttering pithy lines like, "That ain't no Etch-A-Sketch. This is one doodle that can't be un-did, Homeskillet," or "If you give off signals that you don't want to belong, people will make sure that you don't." Cinematic equivalents of those flies that have a 24-hour life span, they live briefly on the screen, shine brightly and then are gone.

The teen protagonists, on the other hand, are generally grounded and perceptive -- aware of their own shortcomings and willing to accept or overlook those of others. It's often said that teenagers think they know everything, so I suppose if you want to appeal to that demographic you have to pander to it to some degree.

3. Both soundtracks are comprised almost exclusively of "alternative" music. Pretty In Pink delivers a Who's Who? of '80s new wave with artists like Echo & the Bunnymen, New Order, The Smiths and The Pyschedelic Furs. Juno features minimalist indie pop from Belle and Sebastian, Cat Power and three different flavors of Kimya Dawson, solo and with her bands Antsy Pants and The Moldy Peaches.

In both cases not the music most of the films' targets audiences actually listened to, or else the soundtracks wouldn't have far outsold anything the individual artists put out. But the choice was critical to each film's credibility. Andie and Juno wouldn't be believable as outsiders if they listened to Madonna or, well, Madonna.

For the life of me, though, I have no idea why Pretty in Pink went with a cover of Nik Kershaw's Wouldn't It Be Good by someone called the Danny Hutton Hitters instead of the original. Neither does Kershaw, apparently.

4. Jason Bateman's Mark Loring character has some striking parallels to Annie Potts' Iona. Bateman, like Potts, is stuck in his past and struggling to move forward with the next phase of his life. Both characters are the adults that the main characters feel most comfortable relating to, finding common ground around music. Both also use their teen friends as catalysts to break out of their unhappy relationship status, although Bateman's feels much more like selfish regression than Potts'. Those transformations then serve to inspire both Juno and Andie to make their own "big decisions," though giving up your baby is inarguably a little weightier than going solo to your prom.

5. Speaking of prom, that cherished high school event brings the romantic issues of both films to their respective heads. Juno gets upset when she finds out Paulie asked another girl, while Andie is hurt when Blane uses that as an excuse to back out of taking her. Both lead to confrontations that pave the way for true love to win out in the end. Wow, I can't believe I just typed that with a straight face.

6. Both Juno and Andie are "have nots" who help the "haves" -- Jennifer Garner's Vanessa and Andrew McCarthy's Blane -- discover what truly matters in life. Substance over style, inner beauty over outer, etc. The tried and true message that money isn't the measure of a person. All right, that's two straight maudlin platitudes, which is two more than this blog should ever have. Time to wrap this puppy up.

There are other similarities that are more cosmetic, like the absence of both main characters' birth mothers, Paulie and Duckie both using bicycles as their main mode of transportation and so on. As comparable as these two movies seem to me, I can't figure out for the life of me why Juno has been made out to be so much more.

It reminds me of the huge groundswell of support Babe got back in 1995 when it, too, was nominated for a bunch of Academy Awards, including Best Picture. At the end of day, it was a cute movie about a talking pig. Ellen Page is no pig, but for whatever reason her nice little picture was able to strike a similar chord in people.

Tough luck, Molly Ringwald. Only time will tell if that Page kid is able to follow this up with something as powerful as The Pick-up Artist, though. I wonder whatever happened to your co-star in that epic...

Pandas and Puking Aren't Necessarily a Bad Combination

We decided to go out to dinner and a movie as a family tonight. The plan was to pick up tickets to Kung Fu Panda, go to the Outback Steakhouse next to the theater for dinner then catch the film.

Zak unfortunately changed the plan by getting sick during dinner. Literally sick -- he threw up half a cheesburger, a couple of bites of mashed potatoes and two cups of milk right back onto his plate. So we made profuse apologies, left a hefty tip and hustled him back home.

Danelle stayed with him while Taryn and I hurried back to the theater. We figured that she might as well still get to go, and Danelle could take Zak some other time. And it would give Taryn and I the chance to do something with just the two of us.

Zak and I seem to naturally end up doing things together -- soccer practices, playing Guitar Hero, going to games. With Taryn it's been a little harder so far, and sometimes she seems to feel left out. It's probably partly her age, partly her gender, partly that she's the second child. Whatever the reason, I know it's something that I need to be aware of and not let become a problem.

I took her out of preschool one day just so she and I could have a special day at the zoo. I'm going to go with her on another trip to the zoo in a couple of weeks with her preschool class, at her request. And tonight was another unexpected opportunity so I couldn't pass it up.

Let me pause here to give special props to the good people at AMC Theatres. We went to the customer service counter when we got there and I explained the situation, and they gave me two passes good for any film at any time without any hassle. I guess it shouldn't be surprising or noteworthy when a company treats customers fairly, but I appreciated it nonetheless.

We were able to get in just before the previews started and still get my favorite seats -- right smack in the exact middle. And Taryn was a little doll throughout. Sitting on my lap for most of it, hiding her face during the "scary parts," scolding me for laughing too loud.

When we got back Zak was already in bed but not yet asleep, so Taryn was kind enough to give him this review.

***WARNING: SPOILERS***

"There was a little bit of fighting. (To which Zak responded, "I kind of figured that, since it's called Kung Fu Panda." Sharp as a tack, that one.)

"The panda didn't know how to do kung fu. Then the squirrel teached him how to do kung fu. Then he knowed how to do kung fu.

The panda was super, duper duper hungry."

I keep reminding myself that one day, sooner than I think, neither of my kids will want to do stuff with me. It just won't be cool. So I should not only enjoy these moments but do everything I can to create as many of them as possible.

Hopefully I can find more ways to find time for Taryn that don't involve Zak getting violently ill. But for one night, I was kind of glad he did.

But Could It Make "We Built This City" Sound Good?

The Internet can be quite a double-edged sword sometimes. Anyone who thinks of something clever or interesting can share it with the rest of the world as long as they have a computer and an internet connection. Blogs are the trendiest manifestation of that. On the other hand, once you have that clever/interesting thought a quick online search will often reveal that the thought is far from original. Other people have already had it, researched it more thoroughly, articulated it better and turned it into a t-shirt.

Such was the case with the topic I wanted to blog about tonight -- my belief that nearly every ska cover version of a song sounds better than the original. I've still got a CD I burned with a bunch of such tunes that I got off of Napster back before Metallica decided we couldn't do that sort of thing. But before I started my post I did a quick Google search and had all the air taken out of my balloon -- some other guy named Timothy Sexton had done a post on the EXACT same topic on Associated Content almost a year and a half ago.

Here's where it becomes good not to jump to conclusions. I read his piece and found that while his reasoning why ska covers are typically so good is similar enough to mine that I'm just going to link to it for you to read what he had to say and not re-invent that wheel, his list only had two songs that I intended to put on my own list.

So, we'll just take this as an example of what academic types might call the internet's power to facilitate non-real-time collaboration that mutually benefits all contributors in a symbiotic fashion, and move on to MY list in no particular order:

Tears of a Clown - The English Beat
My vote for the best ska cover ever, the song exemplifies ska's remarkable ability to make ANY subject matter sound happy. Dave Wakeling still puts on a good show, even if he's put on a few pounds over the years and he's the only original member still touring.

99 Red Balloons - Goldfinger
Ska purists (if such a thing exists) might argue this inclusion since Goldfinger is considered more of a punk band by many. They've never had a horn section to my knowledge, but since a lot of their songs emphasive the offbeat rather than the downbeat I've always considered them ska-ish. Whatever you call it, this cover has the sort of naked aggression you'd expect from a song about nuclear armageddon.

Hold Back the Rain - Buck-O-Nine
I never understood why these guys weren't as popular as some of their third wave counterparts. This is a pretty straightforward effort on a fairly obscure Duran Duran song. Well, straightforward until you get to the call-and-response section reminiscent of Cab Calloway. Those rascals even cuss in the middle! Ska bands can get away with anything...

I Think I Love You - Less Than Jake
One of my agreements with Sexton's list. Less Than Jake loves them some covers -- I've heard them do White Lion's Wait live and they have THREE on their 1995 Losers, Kings, and Things We Don't Understand CD (Tommy Tutone's 867-5309 and the theme songs from Dukes of Hazzard and Laverne and Shirley). This Partridge Family remake shows off the versatility of the band's horn section from the ominous opening to the Vaudeville-esque bridge.

The Freshman - Mustard Plug
The Verve Pipe original sounds like something the kids who smoked cloves and read Kafka in college would listen to. Mustard Plug's version starts similarly, but in typical ska fashion soon builds in volume and tempo to the sort of tune the rest of us who drank cheap beer and read the Sunday comics could better relate to.

Brown Eyed Girl - Reel Big Fish
Sexton had Reel Big Fish on his list, but chose to go with their version of The Cure's Boys Don't Cry. I prefer their take on the Van Morrison classic. Another bait-and-switch slow opening followed by two minutes of upbeat skanking goodness. They also do a great rendition of A-Ha's Take on Me.

Come On Eileen - Save Ferris
Almost TOO perfect -- the prominent horns, the jangly guitar, the wacky video. The other song Sexton and I agree on, though I really considered going with their edgier version of Build Me Up Buttercup instead. In the end, Come On Eileen was just too darn fun to leave off.

Charlie Brown - Voodoo Glow Skulls
This great cover takes the opposite approach of some of the others on the list, with a manic first minute that then slows down with a rocksteady interlude in the middle. I saw these guys open up for the Mighty Mighty Bosstones back in the mid-'90s and what I remember most about them is that they had a big bald dude for a lead singer who was completely nuts.

It's Not Unusual - Five Iron Frenzy
A gem from a little-known Christian ska band from right here in Denver, and quite possibly the only band in that particular musical niche ever. I saw these guys back in 1998 on the Ska Against Racism tour with The Toasters and the aforementioned Less Than Jake and Mustard Plug, and I thought they were tremendous. This tune is on their live 1999 Proof That The Youth Are Revolting CD. It's fairly true to the original, retaining the requisite campiness while really emphasizing the horns.

Even if you're not a ska fan, I encourage you to check these out. Guaranteed to get your toes tapping, or I'll refund your full subscription price to this blog!