June 2022
Books read:
- Book of Hope by Jane Goodall and Douglas Abrams
- The Ministry of Utmost Happiness by Arundhati Roy
- Portrait of a Lady by Henry James
- Old Fall River Road in Rocky Mt. National Park (June 2nd)
- Lost Lake and King Lake Trail in the Indian Peaks Wilderness (June 8th)
- Ouzel Lake in Rocky Mt. National Park (June 14th)
- Crater Lakes in the James Peak Wilderness (June 22nd)
- Mt. Kearsarge in Winslow State Park, New Hampshire (June 28th)
Song(s) of the month – Earthrise by Amanda Gorman
Scientist Spotlight – Dafydd Owen, Paxlovid development
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June Summary:
Well, 27 months after the start of the Covid-19 pandemic in the US, my wife and I finally succumbed; a gift from our grandson. My wife’s theory that chile and beans were her defense against the virus took a hit. Luckily we were both fine after a few days and luckily this variant seems relatively weak compared to the Delta variant of last summer. Also, our vaccinations and boosters certainly helped to mitigate the damage.
The war in Ukraine still rages, and as Putin predicted, the West is becoming much less interested which will allow him to continue his carnage for the next several months/years. Remember when we were all aghast at the atrocities in February? Now we pretty much swipe left when any news of that war pops up. Human nature, fascinating.
I said all I wanted to say on gun violence last month. Sorry if I sounded so despairing then…but if kids getting murdered with assault weapons doesn’t cause despair, then what can? But I will say now that it appears I was wrong (someone please let my wife know that I just wrote those words). The United States Senate has just passed the most comprehensive gun control legislation in a generation. Somehow, 15 Republicans in the Senate have found a conscience, even under pressure from the NRA who of course are against even the most innocuous of gun control measures. This new legislation is titled the Bipartisan Safer Communities Act (nothing in the title about guns because there's not much in there about guns) and certainly doesn't go far enough, but hey, we actually have a moment of compromise in the US government that could save lives. You can find the list of the 15 conscientious Republicans here. I plan to send each of them a note of thanks.
More heat domes are covering the US this month. La Nina certainly is partially responsible, so is climate change. I know, that’s another topic that human nature forces us to swipe left on. I understand this. But I continue to swipe right on all articles I can read on this topic, hoping to come to some eventual understanding on how the most critical problem of our generation has managed to become a political hot potato even as its evidence makes the news on a nightly basis. Maybe we should come up with a new name…how about Scientific Evidence that Fossil Fuels are Responsible for Global Warming. I actually think that compelling stories are what will eventually convince the conservative part of society to agree to action. That’s how Jane Goodall responds to issues of despair…with impactful stories. I discovered that in one of the books I read this month. What we need is a prominent conservative to create a documentary (too many people don't/won't read) about the issue, with stories about rising seas in all the island nations, wildfires everywhere, floods everywhere, drought and heat domes, coral reefs dying, increased pollution. These are all impacting human beings, and we need to tell their stories so that everyone can hear them, not just those that swipe right on this topic.
Is there any good and hopeful news these days? Let’s see, the economy? Nope. Gas prices? Nah. But there are incredible acts by individuals happening every day around the world. I saw a video of a teenage boy diving into the bay to save a teenage girl who drove her car into the water by mistake. I saw another video of a man jumping his fence to save a drowning boy next door. Houston has reduced homelessness by 63% in the past ten years mainly by studying the data, bringing humanitarian groups together, and getting it done... way to go Houston! Jaswiendre Singh, a gas station owner in Phoenix is selling his gas 50 cents cheaper than his costs, losing $500 a day; he says people need help now and he is able to provide some relief, so he does. Best news of all? Researchers have proven that a beer a day keeps the doctor away…something to do with the gut biome. Go science!
This month I’ve read a book on hope, an historical fiction book encompassing the incredible story of the Indian subcontinent, and a classic 600 plus page description of a woman in the 1870s. I’ve also managed hikes in Rocky Mountain National Park and in the Indian Peak and James Peak Wilderness areas, plus a New Hampshire hike on our New England trip over the last week of June and the first week of July (more on that trip next month).
My wife had a tough time recovering from our covid infections early this month mainly due to her being immuno-compromised from her Rheumatoid Arthritis. Luckily, there was an oral anti viral available to help with her recovery. Recall that in my April 2021 blog I highlighted Katalin Karikó for her research into mRNA which led to the Pfizer and Moderna vaccines. This month I highlight Dafydd Owen who, with lots of help, developed Paxlovid on a fast track timescale.
In March of 2020 Owen was sent home from his Pfizer job in Cambridge, MA to telecommute due to covid. They gave him a new assignment to develop an oral anti viral for the virus. Fortunately a previous Pfizer team had developed an anti viral for SARS back in 2002, but it required injections (something to do with its hydrogen bond donors and its peptide-like structure - don't ask). So his main task was to figure out how to deal with those hydrogen bond donors to allow oral intake of the anti viral.
In July of 2020, his team of chemists created PF-07321332—which would eventually be known as nirmatrelvir (generic term for Paxlovid)—for the first time. It was one of 20 compounds they had made in one particular week. By September of 2020 a study of this compound's effect on rats proved they were on the right track. By November 2020 they had delivered enough of the compound for toxicological studies and it was finally approved by the FDA in December of 2021. I know that big Pharma has lots of issues that need to be resolved, but one fact we can't deny is that they employee lots of very bright scientists.
Owen received a degree in Chemistry from Imperial College in London. He then got his PhD from University of Cambridge in Organic Synthesis and a post-doc from Ohio State in Organic Synthesis. He's worked at Pfizer ever since for the past 20 plus years.
Song of the month: Earthrise by Amanda Gorman
For this month's "song" I actually selected a video poem by Amanda Gorman. Gorman burst onto the scene with her dramatic and inspiring reading of her poem "The Hill We Climb" at the January 2021 presidential inauguration at the age of 22. Twenty-two! Young people with her talent give me all the hope I need. She was raised in the Watts area of Los Angeles by a single mom who was a grade school teacher. She's had to overcome auditory and speech disorders. She received a scholarship for Harvard and graduated cum laude in 2020 with a degree in sociology.
Book of Hope by Jane Goodall and Douglas Abrams -
This book was a breath of fresh air during trying times in this world. What a gem Jane Goodall is, and what a story she has to tell. She was 85 years old when the interviews for this book began (she’s now 88) yet she continues to travel and speak around the world on the issues she deems critical: Climate change and the environment, world poverty, and animal welfare. I love that she likes to have a “wee dram” of whiskey each night (maybe this helps to explain her health and longevity…gut biomes). The book was written as an interview of Goodall by Douglas Abrams. Abrams traveled first to her home in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania and later to a cabin at which she was staying in the Netherlands. The final set of interviews was planned for Goodall's home in England but had to take place on Zoom due to the pandemic.
I thought that Abrams’ questions were spot on. He took a somewhat cynical view of her hope in light of the reality of the world’s politics and unquenched greed, but he eventually succumbed to her unending stories of how hope has prevailed. And for Goodall, telling stories is key to helping people believe in the power of hope; and does she ever have some incredible stories to tell in her long and fruitful life.
She lists four reasons for hope and goes on to describe each of them in detail (with many stories of course). They are:
1. The amazing human intellect
2. The resilience of nature
3. The power of young people
4. The indomitable human spirit
She carries a small box with various symbols of hope that she has collected through the years. Some of the things in this box are:
- a clumsily made bell that gave off a somewhat unmusical ringing when she shook it. “This was made from metal from one of the many land mines that had remained buried and unexploded after the civil war in Mozambique. Hundreds of women and children lost a foot after treading on one when working in the fields. What makes it even more special is that it was detected by a specially trained African giant pouched rat
- a piece of concrete that had been broken off by a German friend—who only had his penknife—on the night the Berlin Wall came down.
- a piece of limestone from the quarry Nelson Mandela had been forced to work for while he was in the prison on Robben Island.
- a primary feather from the wing of a California condor, another bird saved from extinction.
She believes there are four existential threats to life on Earth which must be solved:
First, we must alleviate poverty. If you are living in crippling poverty, you will cut down the last tree to grow food. Or fish the last fish because you’re desperate to feed your family. In an urban area you will buy the cheapest food—you do not have the luxury of choosing a more ethically produced product.
Second, we must reduce the unsustainable lifestyles of the affluent. Let’s face it, so many people have way more stuff than they need—or even want.
Third, we must eliminate corruption, for without good governance and honest leadership, we cannot work together to solve our enormous social and environmental challenges.
And finally, we must face up to the problems caused by growing populations of humans and their livestock. There are over seven billion of us today, and already, in many places, we have used up nature’s finite natural resources faster than nature can replenish them.
Those seem like really daunting things to change, but we have to have hope! I wish I could convey to you the many great stories she has, but it would take up an entire book. So go check it out, it’s not that long at under 200 pages.
Here are some lines:
As an optimist, you can just have the feeling, ‘Oh, it’ll be all right.’ It’s the opposite of a pessimist, who says, ‘Oh, that’s never going to work.’ Hope, on the other hand, is a stubborn determination to do all you can to make it work. And hope is something we can cultivate.
Concentration Camp story: Each time she stood in the selection line, she managed to look healthy enough that she was not sent to the gas chamber. Each night she collapsed back onto her bunk, gasping for breath. Edie asked her how she managed to keep going. The girl said, ‘I heard we’re going to be liberated by Christmas.’ The girl counted down each day and each hour, but Christmas came and they were not liberated. She died the next day. Edie says that hope kept the girl alive and that when she lost hope, she lost her will to live.
language, goal setting, and hope all seem to arise in the same area of the brain—the prefrontal cortex, which is right behind our forehead and is the most recently evolved part of our brain.
Abrams: One could argue that the human intellect was the greatest mistake in evolution—a mistake that is now threatening all life on the planet. Goodall: But it’s the way we have used the intellect that has made the mess, not the intellect per se. It’s a mixture of greed, hate, fear, and desire for power that has caused us to use our intellect in unfortunate ways.
If we live in a society with a reasonable standard of living and some degree of social justice, the generous and peaceful aspects of our nature are likely to prevail; while in a society of racial discrimination and economic injustice, violence will thrive.
I honestly think, Doug, that the majority of people are (caring). Unfortunately, the media devotes so much space to covering all of the bad, hateful things that are going on and not enough to reporting about all the goodness and kindness that’s out there.
Of course, a great deal of our onslaught on Mother Nature is not really lack of intelligence but a lack of compassion for future generations and the health of the planet: sheer selfish greed for short-term benefits to increase the wealth and power of individuals, corporations, and governments. The rest is due to thoughtlessness, lack of education, and poverty.
“do you think we could all come together and use this same energy and determination to tackle climate change and loss of biodiversity?” Jane didn’t answer immediately—she was obviously gathering her thoughts. “There is no doubt in my mind that we could. The trouble is that not enough people realize the magnitude of the danger that we are facing—a danger that threatens to utterly destroy our world.”
‘What do you think your next great adventure will be?’ I thought for a bit and then I suddenly realized what it might be: ‘Dying,’ I said. When you die, there’s either nothing, in which case, fine, or there’s something. If there’s something, which I believe, what greater adventure can there be than finding out what it is?’
Let us use the gift of our lives to make this a better world. For the sake of our children and theirs. For the sake of those struggling in poverty. For the sake of the lonely. And for the sake of our brothers and sisters in the natural world—the animals, the plants, the trees.
Old Fall River Road – It appears that this summer I will have a hiking buddy! My daughter-in-law has the summer off from her work as a speech language pathologist in the school district. For this month’s first hike we walked the Old Fall River Road in Rocky Mountain National Park. I hiked this road in June of last year and spotted elk, bear, and moose, so we were hoping for a similar experience before they opened the road up for vehicle traffic in July. Well, other than birds and marmots, we didn’t spot any animals on the walk, although on the drive to and from the trail we saw bighorn sheep, elk, and a bald eagle! But even without the animal sightings, the walk is still spectacular. We managed around 10 total miles and saw waterfalls, snowcapped peaks, and a raging river in “spate”! There is a bit of work to be done on the road before cars are allowed up. There were a few downed trees, some big boulders, and lots of road erosion from snow and water. Another beautiful day in Colorado.
The Ministry of Utmost Happiness by Arundhati Roy – I reviewed Roy’s The God of Small Things in my January blog this year and claimed that it was one of the best reads I’ve ever encountered. Twenty years after she published this great novel, she released her 2nd, The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, in 2017. I was excited to read it. And I will say that her writing is still achingly descriptive of the various trials and tribulations of the people living on the south Asian land that now contains India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, and Kashmir. However, it didn’t reach the greatness that The God of Small Things did (a tall order). I believe that it’s likely because she tried to include too many social, cultural, political, and economic issues within the story. Roy is an admirable activist in India, and she has risked her life in doing this work. I plan to read some of her non-fiction eventually where she delves into the many issues in which she’s been involved.
The story begins with that of a child who was born with the genitalia of both sexes (more or less). The child’s mother hides this inconvenient fact from her husband for the first few years, but eventually they all must reconcile with this. In India, there is an official third sex called Hijra. Hijras have a colorful and recorded history on the subcontinent going back centuries and were accepted up until the British colonialization in the 1800s. They had to go underground until Independence in 1947, and even afterwards were still not completely accepted, although there are several thriving communities of Hijras throughout India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh.
Eventually many other characters are introduced, all of whom are figuring out how to navigate the dire events taking place around them over several decades, including the Kashmir wars, the Muslim/Hindu separation and continued prejudice, the assassination of Indira Gandhi by her Sikh bodyguards (and subsequent massacre of Sikhs throughout India), the Bhopal chemical plant leak, land reform, all the way up through the current nationalism of Modi’s administration. One of the more interesting times was after 9/11; there was already tension in India between Muslims and Hindis, but 9/11 made it even more palpable, in part due to the increase in Afghan refugees. We tend to think only of our country in the aftermath of 9/11, but its impact was worldwide.
Many times throughout the novel, you would be presented with a character along with any preconceptions you may have; but then later, she’d tell the backstory, and your reality would change. One example is of the woman who left her baby in the street for someone to take it. How could she just leave her baby!? Well, later you learn of the violence that was laid on that woman and you are amazed that she had the fortitude to actually do the right thing.
I loved reading about all these fascinating characters and how they managed to make their way around all these issues, but it was tough to keep up! There are so many issues in this part of the world. Even if it wasn’t great like The God of Small Things, it was still an interesting read.
Here are some lines:
Everything was either masculine or feminine, man or woman. Everything except her baby.
Then came Partition. God’s carotid burst open on the new border between India and Pakistan and a million people died of hatred. Neighbors turned on each other as though they’d never known each other, never been to each other’s weddings, never sung each other’s songs.
Anjum lived in the Khwabgah with her patched-together body and her partially realized dreams for more than thirty years.
1976, at the height of the Emergency declared by Indira Gandhi ….thousands of men (mostly Muslim) were herded into camps and forcibly sterilized.
By December (after 9/11) Old Delhi was flooded with Afghan families fleeing warplanes that sang in their skies like unseasonal mosquitoes, and bombs that fell like steel rain.
A new law was passed which allowed suspects to be detained without trial for months. In no time at all the prisons were full of young Muslim men.
The TV channels never ran out of sponsorship for their live telecasts of despair. They never ran out of despair.
The spotted owlet on the streetlight ducked and bobbed with the delicacy and immaculate manners of a Japanese businessman.
On TV they said that that summer homeless people had taken to sleeping on the edges of roads with heavy traffic. They had discovered that diesel exhaust fumes from passing trucks and buses were an effective mosquito repellent and protected them from the outbreak of dengue fever that had killed several hundred people in the city already.
when people died of stone-dust, their lungs refused to be cremated. Even after the rest of their bodies had turned to ash, two lung-shaped slabs of stone remained behind, unburned.
as part of “Operation Good Will,” the army took twenty-one children on a picnic in a navy boat. The boat overturned. All twenty-one children drowned. When the parents of the drowned children protested they were shot at. The luckier ones died.
The facts were never established. Nobody was blamed. This was Kashmir. It was Kashmir’s fault. Life went on. Death went on. The war went on.
Harried doctors and nurses picked their way through the chaos. It was like a wartime ward. Except that in Delhi there was no war other than the usual one—the war of the rich against the poor.
The stupidification of the mainland was picking up speed at an unprecedented rate, and it didn’t even need a military occupation.
Lost Lake and King Lake Trails – Daughter-in-law (DIL) and I decided to give the Indian Peaks Wilderness area a try even though we knew it would be wet and muddy. We started at the Hessie trailhead near the quirky town of Eldora where there were already around 30 cars parked along the road on a Wednesday! I think it’s so popular because this is the closest trailhead to the wilderness area from Boulder/Denver. As expected, there was lots of water on the trail and a bit of mud, but not that bad (there’s lots of rocks in the Rockies afterall). The trail was a steady uphill climb and followed the raging Middle Boulder Creek most of the way. Our first stop was Lost Lake (we found it!) which is a pretty lake at around 9800 feet elevation. There were several people hanging out along the shore taking in the views, playing with their dogs, fishing, eating and just enjoying the beauty of this place which is a short 2 mile walk from the trailhead. After replenishing ourselves with DIL's homemade energy bites we headed up the King Lake trail. We didn’t expect to make it the 5 additional miles up to King Lake on this day and our expectations were met! At around 2 miles up the trail (at around 10,200 feet), the snow was too deep and extensive to make it worth the effort, so we headed back, making this an 8-mile day. We were wondering how long it would take that snow to melt. It’s supposed to be in the 90s along the front range the next few days, so I imagine it won’t be long until we can make it all the way up to King Lake without snowshoes. The walk back was nice and easy, downhill all the way. There were lots of beautiful wildflowers at around the 9,200-foot level. We did spot a deer and an elk on our walk, but no moose…maybe that was just as well because that same day, a mamma moose was shot and killed by the sheriff’s office in Nederland after she attacked and injured two hikers and a dog. I guess the moose kept attacking even as the sheriff was applying first aid to the injured hikers. He tried shooting bean bags and then fired warning shots, but none of them stopped her (she was evidently protecting her newborn, so it’s a sad story).
Portrait of a Lady by Henry James - A 650 page novel about a twenty something woman set in the 1870s probably doesn't sound like a scintillating read. It may not be scintilating but I enjoyed it nonetheless. I reviewed James' The Turn of the Screw in my June 2020 blog. That was just a little 120 page novella but I enjoyed the story so I wanted to read more. Portrait of a Lady is considered by some to be his masterpiece. It tells the story of Isabel Archer, a young American woman whose parents have recently passed. Her aunt takes her in and takes her to Europe to see the world becuase she sees a certain intelligence and independence in the young niece. In England she stays at the beautiful manor belonging to her Uncle Touchette who is married to, but mostly separated from Isabel's aunt. She meets her sickly cousin Ralph and their neighbor Lord Wharburton. Isabel eventually collects marriage proposals from this Lord and also from an old flame from America who comes to England searching her out. She rejects them both because she wants her independence and to see the world. When her uncle dies and leaves her a small fortune, she spends a year travelling around Europe but then, due to some conniving by a couple of unscrupulous characters, she ends up marrying Gilbert Osmond, who everyone near to her knows is the wrong match but her independence refuses to hear them. The remaining story explores her thoughts as she tries to come to terms with this huge mistake in her life. The novel was famous for this exploration of the conflicting inner thoughts and emotions of Isabel. There are other interesting characters in the book, including her journalist friend Henrietta Stackpole and the conniving Madame Merle. It's an interesting glimpse into the world that women had to navigate back in the late 1800s. Certainly the story would have played out far differently in today's more modern world (even if certain factions in America now seem to prefer to hold women back to the standards of the late 1800s...).
Ouzel Lake – My summer hiking buddy (aka my daughter-in-law, DIL) and I decided to head out to the southeast portion of Rocky Mountain National Park to see raging waterfalls and any other interesting thing we may encounter. We hiked nearly 11 miles on this day and, in addition to raging water, we found tremendous views, a crystal-clear mountain lake, and a rare wild orchid.
Our day started at the Wild Basin Trailhead which was PACKED on a Tuesday! We were lucky to get a spot, otherwise our hike could have been a mile or two longer. Most of the people were there to see the three popular waterfalls along the trail (Copeland, Calypso, and Ouzel falls). But for those willing to hike further, there are several stunning lakes you can visit, and Ouzel Lake was today’s goal.
The waterfalls were powerful and it was fascinating to see the difference now compared to when I walked part of this trail in January of 2021. Just past Calypso Falls there was a gentleman pointing out a flower to some other hikers. He was an amateur botanist and was searching for this flower on his hike. It was a rare orchid found only in places where a specific fungus in the soil existed (a mycorrhizal relationship). This orchid is endangered in many parts of the US, so it was very cool to see it. Unfortunately, it was growing right at the edge of the trail and when we returned to this spot later from our hike, it had been trampled by an unaware hiker. Life is fleeting and precious!
At Ouzel Falls, we met a large group of young day campers (9–10-year-olds). They were having a blast and it was great to see so many young kids out enjoying nature. Once past Ouzel Falls, the crowds disappeared, and the views appeared. It was around two miles to the lake and the terrain kept changing as we rose in elevation. The last half mile to the lake had some very slushy snow we had to walk over, but nothing too bad. We had a snack at this beautiful lake and we had the whole place to ourselves.
The 5 mile plus walk back to the trailhead went by quickly as it was mostly downhill. We didn’t encounter any interesting animals on this walk (or the drive, surprisingly) other than the always interesting and interested marmots. Another beautiful day in RMNP!
For this month's "song" I actually selected a video poem by Amanda Gorman. Gorman burst onto the scene with her dramatic and inspiring reading of her poem "The Hill We Climb" at the January 2021 presidential inauguration at the age of 22. Twenty-two! Young people with her talent give me all the hope I need. She was raised in the Watts area of Los Angeles by a single mom who was a grade school teacher. She's had to overcome auditory and speech disorders. She received a scholarship for Harvard and graduated cum laude in 2020 with a degree in sociology.
My brain isn't wired well for poetry. There are several "famous" poems which I can't even pretend to understand. Either I wasn't born with the ability or those brain cells were never exercised sufficiently. But Gorman's poetry is different from anything I've read. Some lines don't rhyme, some have several rhymes within the same line. When she reads her poems she tells a story effortlessly, but you know that she has put a lot of effort and thought into it.
I first heard Earthrise at the beginning of a national climate conference I attended virtually this month. It was an inspiring way to begin the conference.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=92XFwAoJn6w
This book was a breath of fresh air during trying times in this world. What a gem Jane Goodall is, and what a story she has to tell. She was 85 years old when the interviews for this book began (she’s now 88) yet she continues to travel and speak around the world on the issues she deems critical: Climate change and the environment, world poverty, and animal welfare. I love that she likes to have a “wee dram” of whiskey each night (maybe this helps to explain her health and longevity…gut biomes). The book was written as an interview of Goodall by Douglas Abrams. Abrams traveled first to her home in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania and later to a cabin at which she was staying in the Netherlands. The final set of interviews was planned for Goodall's home in England but had to take place on Zoom due to the pandemic.
I thought that Abrams’ questions were spot on. He took a somewhat cynical view of her hope in light of the reality of the world’s politics and unquenched greed, but he eventually succumbed to her unending stories of how hope has prevailed. And for Goodall, telling stories is key to helping people believe in the power of hope; and does she ever have some incredible stories to tell in her long and fruitful life.
She lists four reasons for hope and goes on to describe each of them in detail (with many stories of course). They are:
1. The amazing human intellect
2. The resilience of nature
3. The power of young people
4. The indomitable human spirit
She carries a small box with various symbols of hope that she has collected through the years. Some of the things in this box are:
- a clumsily made bell that gave off a somewhat unmusical ringing when she shook it. “This was made from metal from one of the many land mines that had remained buried and unexploded after the civil war in Mozambique. Hundreds of women and children lost a foot after treading on one when working in the fields. What makes it even more special is that it was detected by a specially trained African giant pouched rat
- a piece of concrete that had been broken off by a German friend—who only had his penknife—on the night the Berlin Wall came down.
- a piece of limestone from the quarry Nelson Mandela had been forced to work for while he was in the prison on Robben Island.
- a primary feather from the wing of a California condor, another bird saved from extinction.
She believes there are four existential threats to life on Earth which must be solved:
First, we must alleviate poverty. If you are living in crippling poverty, you will cut down the last tree to grow food. Or fish the last fish because you’re desperate to feed your family. In an urban area you will buy the cheapest food—you do not have the luxury of choosing a more ethically produced product.
Second, we must reduce the unsustainable lifestyles of the affluent. Let’s face it, so many people have way more stuff than they need—or even want.
Third, we must eliminate corruption, for without good governance and honest leadership, we cannot work together to solve our enormous social and environmental challenges.
And finally, we must face up to the problems caused by growing populations of humans and their livestock. There are over seven billion of us today, and already, in many places, we have used up nature’s finite natural resources faster than nature can replenish them.
Those seem like really daunting things to change, but we have to have hope! I wish I could convey to you the many great stories she has, but it would take up an entire book. So go check it out, it’s not that long at under 200 pages.
Here are some lines:
As an optimist, you can just have the feeling, ‘Oh, it’ll be all right.’ It’s the opposite of a pessimist, who says, ‘Oh, that’s never going to work.’ Hope, on the other hand, is a stubborn determination to do all you can to make it work. And hope is something we can cultivate.
Concentration Camp story: Each time she stood in the selection line, she managed to look healthy enough that she was not sent to the gas chamber. Each night she collapsed back onto her bunk, gasping for breath. Edie asked her how she managed to keep going. The girl said, ‘I heard we’re going to be liberated by Christmas.’ The girl counted down each day and each hour, but Christmas came and they were not liberated. She died the next day. Edie says that hope kept the girl alive and that when she lost hope, she lost her will to live.
language, goal setting, and hope all seem to arise in the same area of the brain—the prefrontal cortex, which is right behind our forehead and is the most recently evolved part of our brain.
Abrams: One could argue that the human intellect was the greatest mistake in evolution—a mistake that is now threatening all life on the planet. Goodall: But it’s the way we have used the intellect that has made the mess, not the intellect per se. It’s a mixture of greed, hate, fear, and desire for power that has caused us to use our intellect in unfortunate ways.
If we live in a society with a reasonable standard of living and some degree of social justice, the generous and peaceful aspects of our nature are likely to prevail; while in a society of racial discrimination and economic injustice, violence will thrive.
I honestly think, Doug, that the majority of people are (caring). Unfortunately, the media devotes so much space to covering all of the bad, hateful things that are going on and not enough to reporting about all the goodness and kindness that’s out there.
Of course, a great deal of our onslaught on Mother Nature is not really lack of intelligence but a lack of compassion for future generations and the health of the planet: sheer selfish greed for short-term benefits to increase the wealth and power of individuals, corporations, and governments. The rest is due to thoughtlessness, lack of education, and poverty.
“do you think we could all come together and use this same energy and determination to tackle climate change and loss of biodiversity?” Jane didn’t answer immediately—she was obviously gathering her thoughts. “There is no doubt in my mind that we could. The trouble is that not enough people realize the magnitude of the danger that we are facing—a danger that threatens to utterly destroy our world.”
‘What do you think your next great adventure will be?’ I thought for a bit and then I suddenly realized what it might be: ‘Dying,’ I said. When you die, there’s either nothing, in which case, fine, or there’s something. If there’s something, which I believe, what greater adventure can there be than finding out what it is?’
Let us use the gift of our lives to make this a better world. For the sake of our children and theirs. For the sake of those struggling in poverty. For the sake of the lonely. And for the sake of our brothers and sisters in the natural world—the animals, the plants, the trees.
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| Views from the road |
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| Raging Fall River |
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| DIL feeling the rush of the water |
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| DIL and I at Chasm Falls |
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| A mini-bear, aka marmot |
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| Impressive snow overhang |
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| Lots of road clearing to do before cars are allowed up |
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| Views |
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| Last year there were skiers here, but Trailridge road was closed on this day denying access |
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| Rock art |
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| Horseshoe bend in Fall River |
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| Where's Waldo? Seriously? Where did he go? He left his hat |
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| Looks like a receding glacier |
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| More road work needed here |
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| Rock hugger |
The story begins with that of a child who was born with the genitalia of both sexes (more or less). The child’s mother hides this inconvenient fact from her husband for the first few years, but eventually they all must reconcile with this. In India, there is an official third sex called Hijra. Hijras have a colorful and recorded history on the subcontinent going back centuries and were accepted up until the British colonialization in the 1800s. They had to go underground until Independence in 1947, and even afterwards were still not completely accepted, although there are several thriving communities of Hijras throughout India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh.
Eventually many other characters are introduced, all of whom are figuring out how to navigate the dire events taking place around them over several decades, including the Kashmir wars, the Muslim/Hindu separation and continued prejudice, the assassination of Indira Gandhi by her Sikh bodyguards (and subsequent massacre of Sikhs throughout India), the Bhopal chemical plant leak, land reform, all the way up through the current nationalism of Modi’s administration. One of the more interesting times was after 9/11; there was already tension in India between Muslims and Hindis, but 9/11 made it even more palpable, in part due to the increase in Afghan refugees. We tend to think only of our country in the aftermath of 9/11, but its impact was worldwide.
Many times throughout the novel, you would be presented with a character along with any preconceptions you may have; but then later, she’d tell the backstory, and your reality would change. One example is of the woman who left her baby in the street for someone to take it. How could she just leave her baby!? Well, later you learn of the violence that was laid on that woman and you are amazed that she had the fortitude to actually do the right thing.
I loved reading about all these fascinating characters and how they managed to make their way around all these issues, but it was tough to keep up! There are so many issues in this part of the world. Even if it wasn’t great like The God of Small Things, it was still an interesting read.
Here are some lines:
Everything was either masculine or feminine, man or woman. Everything except her baby.
Then came Partition. God’s carotid burst open on the new border between India and Pakistan and a million people died of hatred. Neighbors turned on each other as though they’d never known each other, never been to each other’s weddings, never sung each other’s songs.
Anjum lived in the Khwabgah with her patched-together body and her partially realized dreams for more than thirty years.
1976, at the height of the Emergency declared by Indira Gandhi ….thousands of men (mostly Muslim) were herded into camps and forcibly sterilized.
By December (after 9/11) Old Delhi was flooded with Afghan families fleeing warplanes that sang in their skies like unseasonal mosquitoes, and bombs that fell like steel rain.
A new law was passed which allowed suspects to be detained without trial for months. In no time at all the prisons were full of young Muslim men.
The TV channels never ran out of sponsorship for their live telecasts of despair. They never ran out of despair.
The spotted owlet on the streetlight ducked and bobbed with the delicacy and immaculate manners of a Japanese businessman.
On TV they said that that summer homeless people had taken to sleeping on the edges of roads with heavy traffic. They had discovered that diesel exhaust fumes from passing trucks and buses were an effective mosquito repellent and protected them from the outbreak of dengue fever that had killed several hundred people in the city already.
when people died of stone-dust, their lungs refused to be cremated. Even after the rest of their bodies had turned to ash, two lung-shaped slabs of stone remained behind, unburned.
as part of “Operation Good Will,” the army took twenty-one children on a picnic in a navy boat. The boat overturned. All twenty-one children drowned. When the parents of the drowned children protested they were shot at. The luckier ones died.
The facts were never established. Nobody was blamed. This was Kashmir. It was Kashmir’s fault. Life went on. Death went on. The war went on.
Harried doctors and nurses picked their way through the chaos. It was like a wartime ward. Except that in Delhi there was no war other than the usual one—the war of the rich against the poor.
The stupidification of the mainland was picking up speed at an unprecedented rate, and it didn’t even need a military occupation.
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| Flooded out area near the trailhead |
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| This is actually the trail DIL is walking...so much water |
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| Nice views from a meadow near the Lost Lake junction |
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| One of many bridges |
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| Lost Lake...we found it! |
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| Enjoying views from Lost Lake |
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| Views |
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| Several falls along the way |
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| Middle Boulder Creek flowing fast |
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| We put up with some of this, but when it became too much we turned around |
Even though Isabel was intelligent and independent, she still made the worst possible choice for herself, but when you see her thought process, it made perfect sense. So really you feel sorry for her and hope and expect her to make the right decision to correct this mistake, but you're left a bit unsure at the end as to what eventually would happen. You can only wonder, based on the previous 650 page description of this interesting and complicated woman.
Here are some lines:
it seemed to her often that her mind moved more quickly than theirs, and this encouraged an impatience that might easily be confounded with superiority.
but what was she going to do with herself? This question was irregular, for with most women one had no occasion to ask it. Most women did with themselves nothing at all; they waited, in attitude more or less gracefully passive, for a man to come that way and furnish them with a destiny.
Verdi’s music did little to comfort him, and he left the theatre and walked homeward, without knowing his way, through the tortuous, tragical streets of Rome, where heavier sorrows than his had been carried under the stars.
"What you will marry for, heaven only knows. People usually marry as they go into partnership—to set up a house. But in your partnership you will bring everything.’’
this inquiring authoress was constantly flashing her lantern into the quiet darkness of his soul.
She had long before this taken old Rome into her confidence, for in a world of ruins the ruin of her happiness seemed a less unnatural catastrophe.
this idea was as sweet as the vision of a cool bath in a marble tank, in a darkened chamber, in a hot land.
Our day started at the Wild Basin Trailhead which was PACKED on a Tuesday! We were lucky to get a spot, otherwise our hike could have been a mile or two longer. Most of the people were there to see the three popular waterfalls along the trail (Copeland, Calypso, and Ouzel falls). But for those willing to hike further, there are several stunning lakes you can visit, and Ouzel Lake was today’s goal.
The waterfalls were powerful and it was fascinating to see the difference now compared to when I walked part of this trail in January of 2021. Just past Calypso Falls there was a gentleman pointing out a flower to some other hikers. He was an amateur botanist and was searching for this flower on his hike. It was a rare orchid found only in places where a specific fungus in the soil existed (a mycorrhizal relationship). This orchid is endangered in many parts of the US, so it was very cool to see it. Unfortunately, it was growing right at the edge of the trail and when we returned to this spot later from our hike, it had been trampled by an unaware hiker. Life is fleeting and precious!
At Ouzel Falls, we met a large group of young day campers (9–10-year-olds). They were having a blast and it was great to see so many young kids out enjoying nature. Once past Ouzel Falls, the crowds disappeared, and the views appeared. It was around two miles to the lake and the terrain kept changing as we rose in elevation. The last half mile to the lake had some very slushy snow we had to walk over, but nothing too bad. We had a snack at this beautiful lake and we had the whole place to ourselves.
The 5 mile plus walk back to the trailhead went by quickly as it was mostly downhill. We didn’t encounter any interesting animals on this walk (or the drive, surprisingly) other than the always interesting and interested marmots. Another beautiful day in RMNP!
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| Lots of trails to explore up here |
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| Copeland Falls |
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| DIL admiring Copeland Falls |
Copeland Falls in January 2021
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| Trail art |
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| Calypso Falls...Aye Calypso! |
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| Calypso Falls in January 2021 |
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| The rare Fairy Slipper Orchid...it was gone by day's end |
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| Long's Peak on the left |
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| Ouzel Falls gushing |
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| DIL admiring Ouzel Falls |
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| DIL enjoying the day |
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| Mount Alice in the center |
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| Copeland Mountain on the left |
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| Spectacular views on the way to Ouzel Lake |
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| Gnome throne? |
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| Some falls near the lake |
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| Outlet of Ouzel (ouuuu...) |
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| Beautiful Ouzel Lake, our lunch spot |
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| Very panoramic |
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| Now, which way was the trail? |
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| Snow bridge ready to give |
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| Marmots! Just marmots! |
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| Trail Art |
There are several abandoned cabins near the trailhead; these were for the work crews working on the tunnel. I think they were designated as an historical site back in the 70s. The South Boulder Creek trail begins here and you are immediately immersed in greenery. The trail follows its namesake creek for around 2 miles before the Crater Lake junction. The climb for these two miles was moderate and the sound of the running creek was like music to my ears. I passed a work crew trying to manage water damage on the trail from the spring run off; a nice group of young adults that were enjoying their work. I thanked them and moved on. This seems to be a popular backpacking area as I passed maybe 10 or so folks either on their way up or on their way back from the many possible lakes in this wilderness.
On the Crater Lakes trail it got noticeably steeper as I climbed for about a mile and 800 feet elevation. There was a group setting up camp next to South Lower Crater Lake when I arrived. I walked a snowy path between this lake and North Lower Crater lake while taking in the incredible views. I passed a couple of fishermen reeling in little tiny brook trout. Then I turned my sights upward to see how the heck I was going to climb to Upper Crater Lake. It looked daunting with all the snow and waterfalls and raging creeks. There is a southern route up that looked impassable to me due to snow, so I opted for the northern route which starts just to the northwest of North Lower Crater Lake (so many directions!). The social trail going up kept disappearing beneath snow or mud or water, so I made my way up as best as I could, clinging to rocks and branches during the really really steep sections (500 feet in less than half a mile). At one point I had to cross the raging creek pouring out of the lake. The winter crossing still had a snow bridge across the creek but it was much too thin this time of year; I would have fallen into the creek. So I searched for a less treacherous crossing and found a partially submerged log that was only a little bit wobbly. I'm glad I had my hiking poles at this point. Once I crossed, it was just more steepness until I hit the snowfield below the lake. I carefully crossed with only a little bit of post holing and finally got my view of Upper Crater Lake (there is actually a smaller lake you reach first which is probably just a pond when spring runoff is over). What a spectacular alpine lake (aren't they all spectacular?).
I rested here a bit and ate some snacks before leaving to slide back down to the lower lakes and then back to my car.
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| Trailhead parking was at the east portal of the Moffat Tunnel |
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| One of a few scattered cabins that housed work crews in the 1920s |
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| From the very start it's green green green |
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| Bridge over the not so troubled South Boulder Creek |
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| This is really the trail...very wet |
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| Snow bank approaching Lower Crater Lakes |
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| South Lower Crater Lake reflections |
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| South Lower Crater Lake just below the tree line |
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| North Lower Crater Lake with some remaining snow and ice |
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| North Lower Crater Lake seems to be the largest of them all |
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| Now it's up along this waterfall to Upper Crater |
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| It was gushing |
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| Views back down towards the lower lakes...steep! |
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| Snow and water |
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| This seemed to be the best place to cross believe it or not |
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| This was the winter snow bridge that seemed unsafe now |
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| Early mushrooms! |
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| At first I thought this was Upper Crater Lake but it's just a very full unnamed pond below it |
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| Still lots of snow to cross before Upper Crater |
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| First view of the magnificent Upper Crater Lake |
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| Beautiful |
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| Great reflections |
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| Just a bit of snow and ice left on the lake |
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| Yet another mini bear |
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| Looking back at the pond from Upper Crater |
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| Heading back down with expansive views |
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| Yuuuge dandelions! These are really good in salads...seriously |
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| Low bridge or high bridge? |
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| This tree trunk seems to have grown a hand and fingers..OK! |
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| A pretty walk back to the car |
It's a steeper hike than you'd expect for New England, at 1,200 feet in 1.1 miles. Luckily we had a nice cool day with a breeze. There were several families enjoying their day on this trail and having picnics up on top where there's a fire lookout tower.
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| Daugher walking with a view |
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| We didn't get bogged down here |
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| Daughter and fiance rock walkin' |
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| Daughter and fiance relaxing up on top |
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| Daughter and fiance with views |
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| Daughter and wonder dog rooting around |
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| Green! |
Until next month, happy reading and rambling!