bryanjeffrey (ABOUT)

All right, I’ll be candid here–this is not the only newsworthy even in the last 5 months, it’s just that Alyssa told me I’d better brag a bit on here so that she can suffer that much less of my sappy puppy love. So if you’re on Facebook, then I’m sure you already know–if you’re not, here it is: Chief is the latest member of the Agee family of SE Portland. He is definitely part black lab, but we’re unsure on the rest–very possibly a Mastador (half black lab, half mastiff).

Yes, that's my size 13 foot next to him--he'll be a big boy.

One of the guys in our office came home to a new puppy that his wife had brought home, and the whole family loved him. Unfortunately the timing was not great, and complications of moving and a slightly covetous older dog made the addition less than feasible. Alyssa has known for a long time that I would love a dog but for many good reasons we couldn’t quite fit a furry friend into our hectic lives. Our friends convinced us to take him for a weekend just to see how it went, and–in spite of our very serious conversation about how a dog would be _my_ charge–Alyssa fell in love with him just as much as I did. Before our half-hour ride home for the weekend had passed, it was a done deal.

Our lives haven’t really changed all that much to allow for a pet, so it takes a pretty special puppy to deal with the insanity that we call normal life. The great thing is that Chief is so well behaved, we’ve only heard him bark once, and for fair enough reason (the sound the washing machine makes annoyed/scared him; the dryer was just fine, but not the washer). He will play if you rile him up a bit, but does just as well if not better sleeping under the desk while we work. He even gets along grandly with our 13-month old neighbor Ellis.

It’s funny how much a little body in your house can remind you of the beauty of the mundane. Eating, pottying, and climbing the stairs become marvelous and praise worthy. A broken-down car becomes a much milder event when a little tongue insists on giving you a chin-bath. There are certainly costs to adding a dependent (even one so easy as Chief), but I find the engagement and puppy love well worth the effort. Who knows, maybe we’ll be ready for some other kinds of interlopers before too long =).

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I’ve always wanted to be a hardcore bike commuter, and at long last, I think I’m on my way. Up to now, I’ve ridden to work just a handful of times, citing excuses for not riding such as: the bike needs a tune up; I can’t carry my laptop; I need to be dressed nicely for a meeting; it’s wet, and I don’t have the right gear; did I mention my tires are flat and I need a tune up?

Trying out my new Kona jake cyclocross bike

My birthday a couple of weeks ago brought the end to my list of excuses. Alyssa and my parents got together and made in investment in my health and happiness by getting me a new ride: the cyclo-cross Kona jake. It was a complete surprise, and I would never have known where to start looking, let alone what I wanted. With the help of some friends, Alyssa found me the perfect match. She also conspired with Grandma Ellen to get me a rolltop water proof backpack, and put together with my shell and some new waterproof pants and a new set of lights, I’m all set. Well, after I get my fenders and a rack. Hopefully I can swing by and grab those before long, but they won’t keep me from riding in the mean time.

Trying out my new Kona jake cyclocross bike My first commute on the new wheels was last Tuesday, and it was perfect. I’d never had a road bike before, nor had I used Tiagra shifters. I’m sold though. It has 18 speeds, and shifts through them nice and smooth with a pretty wide range. It handles like a champ and is really comfortable for my lanky frame. I’m pretty excited to get in the habit, as I’ve realized that the best way to stay healthy and happy is to have exercise be an inescapable part of the daily routine. Biking 6.2 miles to the office is a perfect way to start and end the workday. Thanks mom, dad and Alyssa!

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I am surrounded by darkness, excepting the distant city lights of Portland and Hood River. Cloaked by the darkness, the land falls away steeply to the right, and trees and snow block the view to my left. Piercing beams behind me cast eerie, fleeting shadows as I press onward and upward. A scene from some nightmare? No, this is how I chose to spend my Friday evening.

Drew from our home community had some friends coming up from Texas to do a couple of Northwest climbs, and was gracious enough to invite me along for the Mt. Adams trip. We took off from Portland a little after noon, Myself finishing my work from a laptop on the way to Trout Lake. We reached the parking lot up the 12 mile forest road sometime in the late afternoon, and headed up the hill. There was some mild cloud cover around 10,000ft as we climbed, but it looked to be clearing. We hoped to make camp for the night atop the Lunch Counter, a false summit at about 9,000ft. The views as we ascended were unbelievable–including one of the most spectacular sunsets washing Mt. Hood in every color all at once.

Unfortunately the going was slower than we had hoped, and 9pm found us at about 8200 feet, having recovered the trail after some pretty interesting scrambling to gain a ridge that Drew’s knowledge of the mountain said we should be on; thank goodness he knows it so well. So after some hot cider (always a winner in the wild) and dinner, we turned in to our cozy down bags to rest up before we pushed up to the summit early the next morning.

It was probably 11:30 or midnight when the wind began to pick up, and proceed to give my tent the test of its existence. It held up, although there were several times I half drifted off to be jolted awake by the tent roof blasting down within inches of my face and springing back up. Drew even went out and re-staked the fly at one point, finding that the rocky sand was not keeping good hold of our anchors. At six, our first riser called out that visibility had gone from 100 miles to 10 feet in the last couple of hours. We were in solid whiteout conditions.

After sitting around hopefully for most of the morning, we decided around 9 that we had better head down the hill, as the wind was not ceasing the the visibility had been up and down, but never much more than 80ft. With the help of the wind and the moisture that comes with being inside the clouds, packing camp was much more interesting that setting it up, but we managed and were off by 10:00. Albeit the whiteout made it a little challenging, finding the trail in the light proved much easier, and we stuck to it on the descent, discovering from my GPS that we had essentially paralleled the trail at 50 feet for a good portion, and then cut right through the switchbacks at another. Way to go Drew!

The weather was not so kind. What started as wind and moisture in the air soon turned to cats and dogs, soaking us to the bone in spite of our high-tech gear–sweat from the inside, and rain through the necks and other openings. Back at the car, it was an foreign feeling to dry off and put on fresh clothes. Then it was off to Hood River for pub food and good beers at Full Sail.

This may sound like torture to those saner than myself, but there is something incredible about taking on the mountain in October, summit or not. The thing that I most love about backpacking or climbing is the way that you get exercise and go without all of the comforts, so distracted by the beauty of creation and the challenge that you scarcely realize. Upon returning to normal life, you regain your appreciation for things as simple as bathrooms were the wind doesn’t complicate matters, and water that you don’t have to melt in a pot. It’s almost as if the worse the conditions, the more appreciation you regain. I love the balancing effect that has for a snob like me. Not that I ever picture being truly cured of that, but it could be a lot worse.

Will I do it again? Without a doubt–until the day I lose the blessing of a fit body, working legs and lungs, and the ability to carry a pack up a trail. Thanks for getting me started, grandpa.

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