Disappointments and Luxuries

It was to be my last day in the Needles, my fourth day and night there.  Again I had something short planned since I wanted to drive out and check into a hotel in Moab.  The time constraint wasn't getting a hotel there (everything's cheap and empty in the winter) but making sure everything I owned had time to dry out: a lot of stuff was very, very wet.  The previous day, after my adventure, I had journeyed part way down an "improved track" to see if my car could handle it and decided it could not.  So that closed off one of only two trails I really had yet to do on that side of Canyonlands which made my choice pretty easy: I was to journey down Big Spring Canyon and loop back to the campground.  It looked nice and I was all the way up to the end the end of the canyon before I hit trouble.  There I discovered I couldn't make the top!  I was quite unhappy, I knew I was no more than 100' from where the trail crested the top of the canyon and dropped back down into a trail I knew I could do.  I tried for close to half an hour to use different techniques to best the slick rock and get on top but could not.  This time it was not dangerous, which was nice.  Any uncontrolled fall I suppose is dangerous, but this one didn't end in a shear cliff, if I fell I was just back on the trail.  Not that I still didn't get an adrenaline rush any time my feet slipped of course.

Not making it proved depressing enough I only took one picture there.

I returned, dejected, the way I came.  Nearing the campground I discovered there was a alternate route back, added maybe half a mile, that would take me over an outcrop of rock and could be quite nice.  I decided this was the make-up for missing the top of the canyon and took it.  There were some great views, but of course there had to be a scary spot on this one too.  They had installed a metal rope to help guide you down part of the slick rock, but the area surrounding it was covered in ice and I discovered the only way I could get down was to simply slide down to the rope and hope I could catch it instead of sliding off the side and down the cliff.  It was only a 30' drop tops but enough to do some damage.  Luckily I caught the rope and went down hand over hand returning safely to my car.  And got some good pictures in exchange for my fear.

I did one more trail on my way out.  A short one that gave a view of the Island in the Sky district of Canyonlands (which I would be heading to the next day).  At least it bumped my distance over 10 miles which made me feel better, and it was pretty.  It was also the only trail I'd been on where I saw anyone else.

Afterwards I headed out to Moab.   I picked up a room and spread all of my stuff out: completely filling the floor and chairs with wet camping gear.  Then a shower, a bit of reading and a very satisfying (if lonely, I'm always lonely eating by myself at a sit-down place) dinner at local Italian restaurant.  And my first good night's sleep.  It was nice.

A Day of Half Measures

This was supposed to be another long hiking day, and it probably did end up close to 20 miles, but not only was that less than the plan, I left off of my planned hike after only about 3 miles.  I had learned my lesson two days prior and didn't get up until 6:30, and then didn't hit the trail until 7:00.  The idea was that I was going to walk up a 4-wheel drive trail (closed for the winter, and I was told to watch out for quicksand of all things) until I hit a few arches 12 miles in and then come back.  It sounded pretty straight forward.

Well I discovered that the road, named "Salt Creek Road" was actually just the creek itself.  Atleast in the winter.  Mile after mile I found myself forced to walk on a frozen river (this is when I really wished I had crampons) which was slow and slightly adrenaline inducing.

When I came to the first fork in the road I tried going down my intended path several times, but after spending far too long trying to fight through the willows and the weeds I finally took the other turn off and gave up on my first goal of the day.  I shortly came to the end of that road and had to make a decision again.

A trail began there that continued down the canyon.  In fact this was part of backpacking trip I was thinking of doing there until I discovered the snow and sub-zero temperatures.  I thought maybe I'd head down that for a while until I hit an arch, the distance would be about the same as my original trip so it made sense.  However, a little ways into this plan I discovered I hated walking down a creek with no more trail (when the 4x4 path turned into just a trail I lost it all together in the marshes).  I simply wasn't interested, plus the only thing to see was the arch down there and I hadn't heard much about it.  So I messed around there for a while, going up little slots to the side and so forth until I returned to the end of the 4x4 path.  There another trail branched off besides the one I'd already, sort of, taken.  Remember that one trail that I was told meant certain death?  Yah, that one started there.  However, it was also supposed to have some of the bests views in the Needle's District.  So I figured, what the heck, I'd take it until it became impassable and then go back.  Interesting choice.

Well it certainly did have good views.  Despite many attempts none of my photographs could really capture the contrast of the Needle's District with the snow-capped La Sal mountains in the background so just take my word that it was spectacular.

The trail looped up some fun little passageways before coming out on slick-rock with great views.  It didn't take long before I encountered what I thought the rangers were talking about.  A long stretch of sloped, slick rock that fell off into an abyss.  However, I thought I could do it and got kind of excited I could complete a loop instead of just return the way I came (and try to walk on the creek that was now undoubtedly thawing in the sunlight).  So I went ahead.  One spot in particular scared me but I passed through.  Going very slowly and cautiously I made it around the ~1/8 mile section much to my relief and excitement.  Then I turn the corner and there's another one just like it!  Well again caution and taking my time I come to just about the end (with only a few scary moments in there) when I see it: death in trail form.

That picture was taken about one to two hundred feet up from the trail in one of my many attempts to try and get around this bit.  The trail itself leads around the side of this cliff and two the left (you can make out a carrin in the middle of the picture).  I don't know how scary that looks to anyone, but since I was slipping and falling on much gentler slopes and this one had a waterfall on it (can you see it?) I was terrified.  Also, the drop-off to the right is exactly as deadly as it looks: it's about 100 feet and I would be very expired at the bottom.  I could't find my way around over the top so I went down to the trail.  I tried getting close to the truly terrfying part just to have a look.  I got out to about 30 feet from the carrin and decided it was exactly as stupid as it appeared from above.  I tried to turn to go back and ... slipped.  I managed to catch myself and then it took me five minutes, standing there petrified, trying to figure out how to get back.  Which then happened again on another patch later on only that time it took me 10 minutes of standing there trying to thing of some other way across until I manned up and did it.  Very scary.

So the trip was certainly something to behold, but I was honestly terrified much of the time, I think it's something I'd like to do some time in the summer.  Some time without ice.  I went back the way I came and walked as best I could down the Salt Creek Road.  My feet got pretty wet but I was never too close to dying so that was nice.

One incident that I remember from that morning.  As I was walking in the darkness (or twilight anyways) I came upon some fox or coyote tracks (I don't know tracks well enough to distinguish).  This was not a surprise as they were everywhere, but these lead up to one spot in what appeared to be a swift manner, that had a good deal of bird feather stuck into the ice, and then trotted away.  I followed the prints for some time (as they stayed on the trail) until they finally headed off into the brush.  Some lucky predator had had breakfast there I presumed.  I ate later.

Crossroads

Since my long hike was to take place the day before, this was to be my off day: only a short hike for me.  Though my hike the previous day had not proved to be as long as I hoped, I stuck with this plan (after all, I'm on vacation!)  I had gone to the ranger station the day before after returning from my adventure to ask about conditions.  I was told to avoid one trail in particular as it was literally deadly (Peekabo Springs/Canyon trail) and other than that they reccomended I stay off all the trails I had done that day.  Which amused me (though they were probably right, there were a few close calls).  So today I headed to the North end of the district to see the confluence of the Colorado and the Green River.  There was a sharp drop and then climb at the beginning of the hike but most of it afterwards was relatively flat.

The hike was 14 miles, 7 each way and without massive elevation gains it was pretty straight forward.  There were a few slick-rock spots that slowed me down, but nothing really dangerous.  My biggest complaint was that the previous day my boots had finally died on me: splitting along the seams and becoming quite porous.  My feet were soaked for the rest of the trip much to my chagrin.  Still, it was a pleasent walk with views along much of the trail.

After one day of picture taking my camera claimed low batteries.  I figured it was just because of the cold but that wouldn't help me should it run out.  I became much more sparing in my use of it, though it never did run out of juice on me.

The confluence itself was not the awe inspiring.  In fact with the ice in it, it just looked dirty.  It's a good thing the views around it were so nice.

I returned from the hike and spent the remainder of the day reading and trying to dry out my boots.  I was more successful at one than the other.  Then another night into the cold.

A Man's Gotta' Know His Limitations

The day was supposed to begin at 5:30 for me, but despite being awake then I pushed it back an hour.  It was around 0 degrees out and I knew it wouldn't get much warmer until the sun rose, and that didn't happen until after 7:30.  At 6:30 I got up and ate breakfast (dry, shredded mini-wheats: better than it sounds) contemplating the day ahead.  I didn't actually hit the trail until 7:00 when twilight had already begun.  It was cold.  After a few minutes of walking it wasn't too much of a problem for my body as long I kept moving at a reasonable clip, but it did cause other problems.  The water in my Camelback froze every 5 minutes unless I did something about it (held my hands around the hose), and every  2 minutes when I was in the bottom of canyons where it was significantly colder.  I was only wearing a long-underwear undershirt and my hiking shirt yet even that close to my body the outside of my shirt froze and turned white with frost.  Yet for all that, it was spectacular.

Things started to get sticky for me as I turned and headed up Lost Canyon, and towards the first slick rock of the trip.  Well, actually things got very unsticky.  The theme of ice and snow getting in my way, and a powerful wish for crampons, began right about then.  As the canyon began to narrow the trail became a stream.  A frozen stream, and one that was not easily avoided.  It was pretty, but also pretty hard to walk on with any kind of speed.

The slick rock at the top of the canyon proved worse.  Though it would have been little problem in the summer, the snow and ice made much of it impassable and I spent a great deal of time trying to get around it and down it without seriously injurying myself.  Not to spoil the ending but I never did more than get some good bruises and a few twisted body parts from the ice.  Which is good as I had a several opportunities on this trip to kill myself so I'll take a bruise over that.

Despite it's danger, walking over the slick rock provided amazing views of the surrounding area.  I spent much of this, and future hikes walking around with my camera out of its case and snapping photos.

The hike continued like this for some time.  Each canyon ended in a slick rock section that involved climbing out of the one canyon and into the next.  Each time I spent a great deal of effort trying to safely navigate myself through the trails and up and down the slopes.  Besides being dangerous, it was quite slow and combined with the fact that I had left an hour late I began to recognize that I would not be able to complete my planned outing.

I have to admit, I did enjoy the occasional ladder to help me cross these passes, though some were more pleasant than others...

Eventually it became decision time.  Not done with my loop I decided to take a little side trip (to druid arch) and then return by the most direct route possible to the campground.  This was a little depressing, but a wise choice.  Almost the entire day I was on trails with no foot-prints.  Which meant it would be hard to find my way in the dark, and that no one had been there in at least a week (and probably longer) so I couldn't exactly expect help if something happened.  The overall trip ended up being only a little over 20 miles which was too bad.  Still, for all the problems the snow, caused, it certainly added something to the beauty, and to the solitude of the place.

I returned shortly before sunset, with enough time to cook dinner and get ready for bed.  Though when sunset is at 5:00 I wasn't quite mentally ready for it and stayed up some time in my car reading.  Even after I retired to my tent I found myself unable to sleep and got up around 11:00 or 12:00 to try my hand at photographing the amazing sky (no lights anywhere and single digit temperatures make for a breathtaking night sky).  It turned out so-so (hard to see here, but like all pictures on the blog you can click to enlarge; however, even then it greatly lacks the awe of the true view I had there).

Sallying Forth

To begin this trip at the beginning (which is the only sensible place to start) I left home with the idea of spending one week exploring Canyonlands and, possibly, Arches.  I knew where I wanted to stay the first night (the campground in the Needles District in Canyonlands) and the hike I wanted to do the first day I arrived (a loop around the trails there, about 26 miles in total with a lot of good views).  After that I was just going to see how it went.

I left Tuesday morning and begin driving (most of the trip occurred on I-70).  After some dangerous driving around Vail I made it into Utah and when I finally couldn't stand so much un-photographed beauty I stopped and took some picture from the side of the road.  Normally not my style but the snow certainly added to the the effect.

I made it down past Moab and entered into Canyonlands (a rather slow, curvy, and icy drive).  I stopped part way in to take pictures and to see Newspaper Rock.  Apparently nothing is known about the drawings here other than a rough time frame, but it's quite a collection of them

I arrived in the campground at around 4:30 and set up camp.  Well set-up my tent anyways, it wasn't really conducive conditions to set-up anything else.  I had known that it had snowed some time shortly before the new year and that it was supposed to be cold.  However, with the small amount of moisture that area is supposed to get I thought it would be basically clear of snow (and ice) when I arrived.  That I was wrong proved to be a rather important feature of my trip for good and ill.  At the campsite itself there was probably about 3" on the ground which wasn't that bad.  I set up the tent, put down an army blanket on the floor and covered my sleeping bag with another blanket.

I walked around before sunset (and a little after) to see the area and for something to do.  Every night I stayed in that campground there was always at least one other group, but normally that was it (one night there were two groups).  It was quite beautiful there, even if it was cold.  When I was trudging around I stopped for a moment and heard complete silence.  It was something I'm not accustomed to hearing and it felt strange.  There were no animals around to make noise, no wind, and no one else at the campground (the other group that night arrived right around sunset).  I strained to hear anything to the point that the silence started to sound loud in my ears.  I don't know what that means exactly, but it happened.  Later, at night, it happened again but in the dark the silence sounded normal.  It sounded peaceful:  I do miss that.

The lows were only supposed to get to 10 or 11 on this trip, but it got much colder than that where I was.  I don't know what the official low was but it spent a lot of time around 0 degrees.  Sleeping was fitful, even bundled up as I was.  Ice collected over everything in my tent (including me) and save one night on this trip  I didn't get more than 3 or 4 hours of sleep.  Yet I never really felt overly tired, I guess my body knew what it was doing.  Still, I've spent more comfortable nights.

Fountain

I like water as an example of true Chaos.  I remember waiting for some friends outside a restaurant a while back: sitting outside and watching a fountain gurgle away for 15 minutes.  A lot of my life is taken up with waiting for others when I'm being social so one must learn to take value from those still moments.  The fountain itself told me nothing, yet it acted as a focal point for my thoughts: is that what people mean when they say "we have so much to learn from..."?  Often that's said about things I find it nebulous at best to learn from and I often feel it's because the speaker, lacking wisdom, hopes this platitude will suffice to cover, but perhaps they mean it helps us learn from ourselves.

Well anyways, the fountain proved a perfect demonstration of chaos.  Every path the water took from its apex to its low point was constantly changing.  Any individual part of the water (be it a molecule or a full drop) was entirely unpredictable: no meaningful guess could be made as to which path it would take down the rock face, nor once a path was chosen, which part of that path it flow in.  To predict it would require more computational power than the world has today, and a greater knowledge of the exact properties of that fountain and the surrounding environment than we are even capable of gathering.

Yet for all that, the patterns were clear and certain types of predictions could be made, and with great confidence.  The overall space in which the water had to flow (ignoring the small portion which evaporated) was actually quite limited.  Within that certain paths were dominate, and though their size waxed and waned, and they moved slightly around, they too followed a prescribed course that could be easily described.

Which was the reality of the system?  Was it deterministic, easily categorized and predictable, or was it beyond fathoming: outside the capacity of human intelligence to see before it happened?  The answer, of course, depends on what you find interesting about the fountain.  Are you a spec of water, constantly bounced to and fro by powers you have no control over?  Or are you an outside observer, taking in the beauty of countless drops of water flowing by?

Yet even if you are that drop you can still know certain things, as long as your time-scale is big enough.  You may not know if you will head left or right at the next junction, but after a hundred passes through this system you can certainly limit your possible futures.  You know eventually you will take the leftward course and see the smaller but more frequent drops that come with that course.  And should you head right you can count on the big falls before plunging into the ocean below and slowly circling down to the pump to return once more on your journey.

Certainly if this is allegorical (and on my blog it better be) then we are the drop of water, but what is our time scale?  Do we have enough time in this life to see the patterns and curves, or to be assured of a future in any of them, or is our life span only a few turns in an endless cycle?  In the fountain there are clear bounds placed by the rock walls of the structure: for us that is the forces of intelligence in our lives that have the strength to create lasting impact.  Random events and chance encounters may move us back and forth, and in the right time change us from one route to another.  They do not, however, have the power to limit our actions: they are not long term enough for that.  The two constants in every life is the force of a person's own will and the will of God.  Then we add in other we choose to surround ourselves with long enough to ensure their personal drive will be strong enough to shape our lives.  Parents and friends, husbands and wives, Satan perhaps though we all hope not.  It may be chance that forces us on a path bound by one person or another, but it is that influence that creates the characteristics of our course through life.  Strange attractors those boundaries are called in science.  Not a bad name.

XKCD comics that remind me of me

All material from www.xkcd.com and listed in order of resemblance:
(sorry some are too small to read: click to enlarge)

The Trip to and from Austin

I traveled down to Las Vegas New Mexico the first night and stayed in a hotel there.  The hotel that was featured in No Country for Old Men which was pretty neat but the hotel was exactly as seedy as the movie made it look so there was that too.  The restaurant I ate at was hilarious to me: I felt like I was in a Judd Apatow film the entire time.  It started when I walked in and saw the certificate proudly displaying that the owner was "Les Cox".  I know, very juvenile of me, but that wasn't the end.  A table of incredibly overweight guys who were clearly policemen discussing weaponry they shot in their free time and run-ins they've had manhandling Mexicans.   My waitress who appeared to be 17, very attractive, and slightly dumber than the doorknob she couldn't seem to figure out how to work (it required the application of a torque as it turns out).

The next day I continued on to Carlsbad Caverns at the very South end of New Mexico.  There I stopped to walk down into and out of the main attraction.  It was so much more than I anticipated, or was really capable of imagining.  It's a little over a mile walk into the main cavern itself; the hike seems to be straight down and along the way there are a myriad of amazing sights.  The main cavern is simply past believing and was a wonder to behold.  I took pictures even though I knew it was too dark for any to turn out (there are artificial lights though-out as natural light disappears only a few hundred yards in, but that's no where near enough light).  I've included one picture that doesn't capture any of the true awe of the real thing but was the best I could do without a tripod.

When I got out I drove down to Guadalupe to camp the night there.  I went into the visitor center to check on the weather for the next day and ended up talking with a ranger about my planned trip.  He clearly didn't have a lot of faith in me as he wrote down my plan, address and phone number so he could notify my next of kin when I died in the attempt.

The night was colder than I expected but I got up at 4:15 anyways and began walking (it took an hour to get up, break down my tent, eat breakfast, etc... so I wasn't on the trail until after 5:00).  I hit the top of Guadalupe itself, the tallest point in Texas, just after sunrise.  This was a nice little hike that was entirely on the trail.  Then it was time to crash my way off-trail and hit the other three peaks I had planned for the day. The views from every one were incredible and I got a lot of great pictures (I spared anyone brave enough to read this and made sure to only include one picture per day, but I have the pictures).  However, the off-trail stuff was kind of rough.  Very thick underbrush and I kept getting pulled off the ridge.  Nevertheless I made it through my four peaks and back down without dying (I let the ranger know, I'm not heartless) and then took off for Big Bend.

I didn't make it that night.  I was falling asleep at the wheel so I stayed in a motel a few hours from Big Bend.  A smart move to be sure but a disappointing one as it kept me from doing the long hike I had planned for the next day (~30+ miles).  In fact I didn't get on the trail until 10:30 I had to be back in time to find a camp site and set-up my tent before dark which happened around 5 or 5:30.  In my rush I was not overly sure how long my walk was and left with only the 3L of water in my camelback and a few candy bars for the trip which ended up being several thousand feet of elevation and over 21 miles.  This turned out not to the be the greatest move ever as I ended up 4.5 miles from the end entirely out of water (and with only one terrible tasting doughnut and some musketeers for energy that day).  All that aside the whole day was on trails so it was fast, the views were, again, spectacular.  I'll only force one image on you but I have a plethora on my hard drive now.  I was disappointed that I didn't really capture the openness of the rim I hit, but I still got some good takes and I'll always have my memory.  Big Bend is quite isolated but if there's ever a chance to get down there, it's worth a visit!

The next day I woke around 5 to go for a short, morning hike.  I'm not including any pictures of this one (I double up for my final day) but it was pure pain the whole way.  I had to be sure to be down by 12:00 to make it to the wedding dinner I was supposed to be at that night in San Antonio, which is why I left at 5:00am.  I almost didn't make it.  The hike wasn't that long, and at two thousand feet of elevation shouldn't have been a hard one to complete.  The whole thing was off trail and it was the worst off-trail experience of my life.  All the way up was thickets of bushes, or brambles or things I'd never even seen before filled with prickers and points.  Many were taller than me and I almost turned around close to ten times.  I did make my final destination (stubbornness: I has it) but got very cut up in the process.  Lots of blood all over my body which probably didn't look that great at the semi-formal dinner that night.  Though my guess is that the hiking pants I wore probably distracted everyone there enough to keep them from noticing the puncture wounds...

I spent a long time in Austin, longer than I planned, but it was great to see people again.  Texas just isn't my scene but I do miss people.  Quite a bit actually.

Well I wont dwell on it: I eventually started my return journey.  The plan was to spend some time in Bandelier and do some hiking and camping there.  I drove from Austin to Santa Fe in one day which was fine until right near the end it started snowing pretty hard.  It was only supposed to be 1-3" but it was clearly a lot more.  I spent the night in Santa Fe and woke up to find it was still snowing.  The plan was to take two day-hikes that day, camp off the road by Bandelier and do my long hike the following day.  After that I would asses the situation and decide to stay for some more hiking or return home.

Things were dicey from the get-go with the snow.  I was very worried about pulling off for camping or for a more remote hike and getting stuck.  But I started the day as planned.  I drove to White Rock (by Los Alamos) and did a little jaunt there.  At 9 miles it shouldn't have taken me more than 3 hours even in the snow, but it ended up close to four.  It was pretty and I was glad I did it, but I ended up talking sick with some decent nausea en route and simply lost energy and stamina.  Some combination of spitting, coughing and vomiting will slow me down as it turns out.

I decided to plug along and went down to Bandelier for my second hike.  It was quite beautiful and I've included a couple pictures of that.  However, in Bandelier I found a full foot of fresh snow and it was still falling.  My illness was not disappearing, and so I made a depressing but probably necessary choice: I went home.  I figured being sick and camping in a foot of snow was not going to be worth it.  Especially since the hike I really wanted to do there probably wasn't going to be feasible in a foot of snow anyways.  So this is where my trip ended.  Overall a great trip but a sour final note.

10 Moments from the Rockies 2010 Season

They're ordered and everything but my memory isn't good enough to actually say these are the best of the season, they're just what I remember.  Which makes them pretty biased towards the end of the season of course.
10. The 12 Run Eigth
Setting all sorts of club, league, and baseball records the Rockies plated 12 runs during the eigth inning of a game against the Chicago Cubs.  Constitutive hits, extra-base hits, home-runs, they couldn't be stopped.  This was truly a great moment for any Rockies fan.

9. From 10-1 to 12-10, Rockies Stage a Come-Back
Though not done all in one inning like a later entry on this list, this victory is both incredible on its own and holds a special place in my heart as I was there for it!  In fact you can see me (not very clearly) in the linked video of the final catch which ended the game.

8. Jimenez Sets Rockies Strike-Out Record
Perhaps a bitter-sweet moment, Jimenez fanned 10 this game to set the club's season record for strike-outs, as well as pitching 8 shut-out innings.  Unfortunaley the Rockies couldn't seem to score either so Jimenez was denied his 20th win.

7. Gonzalez Triples to Beat the Giants
In a game of great importance Colorado couldn't seem to get on the board.  The top of the 9th and they'd managed to hold the Giants to just one run, but only an inning left to score themselves.  This may not be the cleanest play of the year but an error and a broken-bat triple were enough to give the Rockies the win that night.  A very exciting moment.

6. Rockie's Nine Run Ninth
Down by six runs in the Ninth, the Rockies refuse to say die.  Seth Smith blasted a 3-run homer after they'd come back to tie, and the Rockies take the game in one of the biggest come-backs ever.

5. Eric Young Goes Behind the Back
This was the first of two, behind-the-back plays Young would make in a week's time.  The play itself is enough for selection but it highlights one of two players on the Rockies that are to be looked for in the coming years for their pure speed.  Whenever Young was up and starting at 2nd this year he easily led the majors in stolen bases.  His teammate, Dexter Fowler, had the most triples this season despite having 430 ABs (as compared to number two on the list who had 600).

4. Chris Nelson's Steal of Home
His first major league steal, Chris Nelson plated the go-ahead, and what proved to be by the next half-inning, winning run himself!  An incredibly exciting moment in an important, end-of-the-year game not to mention an incredibly rare feat: a straight steal of home.  Jim Tracy later said he'd called for the suicide and figured Nelson had just screwed up and went too early (and would certainly be caught).  Nelson said he'd timed the pitcher's delivery and knew he never looked to third once he got set.  However it happened, it's a moment to remember.

3. Tulowitzki's September
In the first 16 games he played his average ran to around .400, he had 34 RBIs, 14 HRs and a slugging percentage in excess of 1.100.  This was, statistically, one of the three greatest Septembers in baseball history (and tied a record for most home-runs in a 15 game strech).  This particular highlight is a favorite of mine as it caps off a 7 RBI game.  More amusingly, after hitting his previous home-run that day over the center-field fence, a fan held up a giant poster-board with a target painted on it under the word 'Tulo'.  This home-run, as you can see, lands about two rows shy of the sign.

2. Ubaldo Jimenez Throws the Rockies First No-Hitter
This was certainly the most impressive, single-game performance of the season.  Though he walked six batters he finished off the game by moving into the stretch and just plain dominating.  His last pitch, which took more than 120 to get to, crossed the plate at 98mph: what an outing!

1. Carlos Gonzalez's Walk-Off Cycle
I don't know why this was my favorite moment of the season.  Perhaps it was because it highlighted one of the greatest, if not the greatest players in baseball today who gets so little attention as a result of playing for the (my) Colorado Rockies.  Perhaps because of the dramatic fashion in which it occurred: bottom of the ninth, walk-off home run off the first pitch he sees.  Or perhaps because it was the hardest hit home-run I've seen in years.  Though it didn't make the longest of this year, it might have it it weren't for the fact that it got stopped by the third (third!) deck.

Cereals

I've been revisiting old friends recently.  It's been years since I really dabbled in breakfast cereals, expense and lack of motivation in the morning.  Now with all sorts of time on my hands and the opportunity to eat cereal whenever I please it's been a nice trip down memory lane.

Honeycombs started it all off , several weeks of craving led to the initial purchase that kicked this journey off.    A little more substance than a lot of other sugary treats and a little less sweet (though only in comparison to be sure).  A wonderful beginning.

After that came Apple Jacks; lets face it, the taste is mostly sugar.  The extra little flavor makes for a nice addition.  And a wonderful transition into Honey Smacks: out and out pandering to the pure sugar crowd.  Perhaps a little too sweet, even for me, it was still fun to dine on.

It's ended up on Crispix, really the only one not baked in glucose.  These tasty treats make me feel a little better about eating them due to the supposed health benefits but it's probably more sham than substance.  I find, eating Crispix I have a rather unique style when they're dry.  I don't know when it started or why but I find myself doing it subconsciously, even after it had been years since I ate it.  My tongue places it vertically between my teeth; then a sharp, swift bite breaks apart to the two sides.  Normally cleanly, at which point I devour them separately.  I wonder why I do that.