Three Cool Things (SAR jet suits, Car battery boosters, Timelapse of the universe)

January 10, 2021

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Here are three things that I thought were interesting. Leave your thoughts in the comments section.

SAR jet suits

As someone who carries a Garmin inReach device equipped with an SOS button into the backcountry, I found this video by Gravity Industries quite exciting. It shows a demo of a search and rescue in the UK, where the paramedic gets to the victim in 90 seconds using a jet suit, saving nearly a half hour. Footage of a human gliding through the air in the mountains is quite surreal. The machinery looks quite clunky, but like anything the tech is always improving. Who knows what applications there are on the horizon.

Car battery booster pack

I haven't needed to own my own car til last year. I finally had to immerse myself into the world of car ownership: scheduling oil changes, comparing insurance rates, and dealing with intermittent bursts of worry that it'll get broken into. Over the last decade, I've had three friends whose car batteries died on them. In all instances, we were far from any city or town, parked at a trailhead or in the middle of an endless dirt field. We were mostly lucky to have another car nearby equipped with jumper cables. In one instance though, we endured a long and memorable night.

Buy on Amazon

Until recently, I resigned to the fact that this was the norm of car ownership: a battery is bound to die at some point from accidentally leaving a light on and you’d better hope a friendly person is around. I found learned quickly that's not the case. You could just buy a brick-shaped battery that could bring the juice back to your car within a minute. It's unbelievable to me that everyone doesn't carry one of these in their trunk. You could even charge your phone with it in an emergency. There are several variations of this gizmo, some expensive models adding features like the ability to inflate your tires. I kept it simple (NOCO Boost Sport GB 20 500A) and went with reliability for a solid price. So far I haven't needed to use it, but there's tons of praise for this thing across the web. It feels like a no-brainer.

Timelapse of the universe

Even if you're not scientifically inclined, I'd encourage you to watch at least the first two minutes. Capturing over 50M views as of this writing, the video is a stunning glimpse into what's in store for the future. It seems bizarre, illustrating what'll happen trillions of years ahead, but the predictions are grounded in real science (e.g, we know the Sun will die out, the earth's magnetic poles reversing, etc). In the YouTube comments there's an unmistakeable mood of feeling insignificant, afraid, and amazed in the face of this realization. Here's a favorite line: "…and you afraid to talk to the person you like."

Endurance: Shackleton's Incredible Voyage — a very strong book recommendation

January 07, 2021

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Sometimes reality can be stranger than our wildest imaginations. I found myself in total disbelief when reading the story of Ernest Shackleton’s 1914 expedition to cross Antarctica. Just before his ship could make landfall, it was encased in a thick sea ice and was ground to a halt. In the diary entries of the crew members, it’s clear that the men expected to be out shortly. Unfortunately for them, things went from bad to worse as the ship began to get crushed under the pressure from the surrounding floes. They were forced to evacuate onto the pack ice, exposed to the mercy of battering polar storms, facing dwindling rations, grappling with uncertainty about the floe’s integrity beneath their feet, and moved at the whim of ocean currents. I found myself vice-gripping the book at the many moments I was certain their end was imminent, from their encounters with charging sea leopards, slipping into the bone-chilling water in the dark, and rowing on lifeboats after days of sleepless nights through rough seas. If this book was a work of fiction, I may have stopped reading halfway though, believing the challenges thrown at the men to be far too absurd to be taken seriously. After nearly two years, enduring months of total darkness during the polar winters, they were finally able to self-rescue.

In addition to telling a tale about survival against all odds, there are several themes that apparent in Alfred Lansing’s telling of the story, made possible by masterfully weaving together diary entries from the crew. The most obvious is Shackleton’s leadership and decisiveness. He takes full responsibility for the welfare of his 28-man team. He’s regularly forced to make difficult choices about where they move toward given conditions, when they should leave zones of safety to make uncertain progress, and what supplies they should leave behind. While Shackleton tries to exercise conservative restraint, certain moments call for him to act boldly as his range of options narrow. Another theme is Shackleton’s dogged insistence that he pay close attention to the morale of the crew. He seems to fear the collective abandonment of hope more than anything else. What struck me the hardest is how content some of these men were despite the circumstances. As much as they miss the comforts of home, they find moments of real joy in the mundane: keeping busy with their hands to ready supplies, using their creativity to put on shows for amusement, or training their sled dogs to race each other. It left me thinking that the formula for happiness may be a lot simpler than we’re raised to believe.

I got this book as a gift for Christmas from Leah’s mom. I’d highly recommend you check it out. If you love it, pass it along to someone else!

Endurance: Shackleton's Incredible Voyage

By Alfred Lansing

Buy on Amazon

Photo taken by Leah, somewhere high above Moab, UT

Turning 30: the best 30 things that happened to me

December 12, 2020

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I recently completed 30 years of being alive, hooray. I celebrated by surprising my mother with a generous gift that morning. The way I see it, the day means more to her than it ever will to me (and she did do all the heavy lifting). My birthday happens to be at the end of the year, a time when most people have retreated indoors to wait out the longer nights. It’s a time that naturally lends itself to reflecting inward. Every December I too find myself taking stock by thumbing through memories of the past year, putting a spotlight on what I’m proud of, how fortunate I am, and who I’m grateful for having in my life. There’s a tiny bit of the opposite but for the most part life’s been great, each year better than the last.

I allowed myself to indulge in the significance of the number 30 by broadening my scope of reflection; I thought it’d be fun to document the thirty best things that have happened to me throughout the course of my life. It’s an exercise to remind myself why I am the way I am. I’m quite good at documenting important moments to appreciate later (that’s the whole point of this site), but some moments of significance get lost as they don’t lend themselves to being told in photographs. I’ll try and capture them here in no particular order.

OPPORTUNITIES

#1 - I picked up a camera: I don’t remember the first photo I took that I was proud of, but it was probably at a concert. In my early 20s I was averaging three or four shows a month. I loved being at the very front, close enough to see beads of sweat from artists pouring themselves out. I loved the energy of the crowd behind me, seeing the performers feed off that wave, and have them throw it right back at us. I wanted to capture that mood, so I began bringing my camera. It was a boot camp in learning how to adjust the knobs and dials quickly in order to keep up. I also started to pay attention to subtleties in body movement and positioning, the angles and colors of lighting, and how the arc of the crowd’s energy rose and fell with every song. Several years later, when I’d go on hikes in the outdoors, I brought my camera with me too. I used it as a means for telling a story, capturing a mood, and inspiring my friends and myself. Just as I had seen the stage with new eyes, I also saw adventures in the outdoors differently. I paid attention to the nuances in shapes made by sunlight and shade, the texture of tree bark, and ripples in water.

#2 - I started to write: In college, I was searching for an identity. I wasn’t sure who I was or wanted to be. Truthfully, I was trying to fill out an online dating profile. When asked to describe myself, I froze, unable to describe what was special about me. I logged out and promised myself I’d return when I had something to say. Fast forward a few months later: I have a food blog where I documented every restaurant I visited, sharing the history of different cuisines and discovering the unique beat of the city’s many neighborhoods. As I became more comfortable with my writing, I began talking to restaurant owners and servers to learn about what made them special. Whenever I had the opportunity to go deeper, the food always tasted better. I’ve since applied that same mindset to travel as well. After nearly 300 reviews over three years, I shut down my site. It just wasn’t fun anymore. What I carried forward though was the joy of storytelling; that’s what I loved most about the food blogging. It wasn’t the recommendations to eat this and not that; it was capturing on a page what made that Nepalese restaurant’s soup unlike anything I had ever tasted (that family went to Nepal twice a year to source herbs from their farm). When I started to have my own stories from exploring the outdoors, it was only natural that I’d make site to host it. Fortunately for me, rajahamid.com wasn’t taken yet.

#3 - Coming to terms with creativity: I firmly believe that all forms of creative work carry some level of insecurity. As true as it may be that I do it for personal fulfillment, the praise and rejection of others has an impact on how I feel at the end of the day. Sometimes it happens in a big way, sometimes in a small way. To protect my ego, for years I was fond of believing that my photographs and stories were simply me documenting of what I saw and nothing more. None of it was art; I was merely reporting, not adding any part of myself to the work. Any beauty attributed to it was just a consequence of pointing my camera at something or someone beautiful. This obviously muzzled any creative instincts I may have had. At the end of 2019, I got a random message from Gestalten, an international publishing house based in Germany. They were interested in featuring six of my photographs in an upcoming book highlighting iconic trails in the US. I was both flattered and surprised. I hadn’t ever considered my pictures to be worthy of publishing, but here was an authority telling me otherwise. I was paid for my work for the first time. After that, I stopped a lifetime of denying that I was a creative person. If you’re interested in the book it’s Wanderlust USA. It does make a great gift.

#4 - Working the startup life: It was absurd to my parents that I’d be throwing away a stellar LSAT score to continue working for a company that paid half what my peers made wearing suits. Years earlier, while still a junior in college, I started an hourly data entry gig for Citymaps. I quickly fell in love with the team and fit right into the culture; eventually I’d play a key role in shaping the culture as employee #5. While sometimes I daydreamed about us getting acquired, I was under no delusions that it could happen. After six years Tripadvisor did scoop us up, but that’s not why I’ve added this to the list. Those six years were the toughest of my career, shouldering tons of responsibility, feeling the constant pressure to innovate or die, and thinking about our product nearly every waking moment (and often in my dreams). I thrived in the pressure. It was also the most fun I may ever have at a job, and we all knew it. As challenging as the work was, we were all in the trenches trying to make something out of nothing. I recently read Shoe Dog, a memoir by Phil Knight about the founding of Nike. I was able to relate to the chaotic journey to success with its unexpected peaks and crushing lows, deep friendships, and countless sacrifices. It was the ride of a lifetime.

#5 - Having incredible mentors: Working at Citymaps meant a lot of learning on the fly. I was often given remits that far exceeded my experience. The two co-founders put a tremendous amount of trust in me. Despite my lack of credentials, they saw something in me that gave me the confidence to perform my best. I developed a close relationship with both Aaron and Elliot, and I looked to them like older brothers. I learned a lot about management from them and the benefits of empowering the people around you to, allowing them to fail by not creating a culture of fear to drive success. They would look out for me at every turn: whether it was advocating for me at Tripadvisor, counseling me on a personal level, or supporting my ambitions even when it came at their loss. We no longer work together but still keep in touch and sometimes joke about getting the band back together. Today, I try and model my mentoring after theirs. They’ve given me so much and I’d like to try and pass that along.

#6 - Traveling alone: There’s a unique feeling I get whenever I’m traveling solo. In my gut there’s a mix of excitement, anticipation, empowerment, and loneliness. I think most people experience that when they leave home for college. I went to college in NYC and commuted from home, so my first trip to Paris was when I got a taste of that experience. I did have a cadre of friends who I was visiting so it was a baby step, but I was hooked on the feeling. I took a big leap by going to Bali, packing everything for a week into a tiny backpack. While the trip had it’s stresses (I lost my credit cards immediately), I learned about how friendly locals and travelers could be if I was willing to set aside my shyness. Being alone forced me to talk to new people and helped me realize that there was a whole world to explore if I was willing to put myself out there.

#7 - Citymaps is acquired: I’m not sure how sustainable the 60hr+ work weeks at Citymaps would have been. After six years, that came to an end when I joined Tripadvisor via acquisition. The co-founders ensured that we’d be taken care of in our new roles. I finally was getting a taste of the corporate life; we could all take our foot off the gas, kick back, and savor in the work perks. Being at a big company did help me with my growth though: I had access to a massive pool of talent for inspiration, I was given formal training in product management, and I was challenged on new skills that I hadn’t developed with a small team. On a personal level, being at Tripadvisor meant that I finally had the capacity to travel and really discover what my passions were.

#8 - Inspiration in Patagonia: After the acquisition, Aaron challenged me to use up my remaining vacation days by the end of the year, which had accrued substantially since I hadn’t been keen on taking time off. I decided on a whim to backpack solo around Chile and Argentina for two weeks. It would be my longest time away from home and I also had never slept in a tent. Similar to my time in Bali, every day was exhilarating and held the promise of new friends and stories unlike anything I had ever experienced before. What I remember most is my first sighting of Fitz Roy, an iconic massif in Argentinian Patagonia. I clearly remember the feeling of turning the corner and laying eyes on it for the first time. My shoulders were sore from a heavy pack digging into my muscles for ten straight days, but I forgot all about that for a brief moment. On sight, I made a promise to learn how to climb on rock and ice so that I could someday feel what movement on that mountain would be like. I was terrified of heights, but I was determined to at least try.

#9 - Learning the ropes with AAI: Not long after I returned home from Patagonia, I began looking for ways to build knowledge and skills. I signed up for two weeks in the North Cascades with the American Alpine Institute. It was a crash course in the kind of climbing that inspired me: remote, big, and beautiful. In addition to making some amazing friends like Luke, I learned that with enough practice and diligence, it was within reach for me to have the kinds of adventures the people in TV and magazines were having. Growing up poor in a big city (where I truly thought of Central Park as remote wilderness), I saw big mountain experiences as something that I had to grow up in. It seems silly now looking back, but I didn’t see anyone like me in the outdoors; I assumed it was something I wasn’t and would never be cut out for. Now, recreating in the outdoors is a core part of my identity.

#10 - Indulging in Japan: A few friends mentioned to me they’d be going to Tokyo for New Years Eve and extended an invite. I knew at least one of them spoke some Japanese, so I figured this would be a great opportunity to experience the city. Ultimately, we grew to ten people filling an Airbnb to the brim wreaking gaijin havoc on Tokyo. What I’ll never forget about that trip is how incredible the food was and how devoted the chefs were to pursuing mastery in their craft, no matter how simple or pedestrian their domain. I planned an itinerary for every meal each day where we’d experience the best of every type of food I could think of, from heaps of uni on a warm beds of rice to sampling regional varieties of ramen bowls. David Chang said he knew he knocked it out of the park when everyone at a table would shut up after their first bite. We were all silent for every single meal. Sometimes I tell Leah about that trip in a wistful tone and a dreamy gaze. Maybe I’ll take her with me someday.

#11 - Having the privilege to mentor: I get a ton of joy from being able to share my experience with colleagues. My career has spanned 10 years as of this writing (I started full-time in college) and has given me a unique perspective. Being able to share learnings with my direct reports at work is extremely satisfying. Some days I learn just as much from them as they do from me.

HEALTH & HABITS

#12 - Becoming financially responsible: My family had little when I was growing up, and my first year’s startup salary was already more than my father’s best year. Although I was raised to be thrifty, I assumed that as long as I spent within the bounds of a paycheck I’d be safe. With every raise I got though, I spent more on gadgets, restaurants, travel, and the like. I was in the classic trap of lifestyle inflation. I saw no point in saving as I figured I’d always have a job. Only after my friend Ranadeb introduced me to a financial advisor four years ago did I finally begin saving money and cutting my expenses. I did it mostly out of embarrassment for not having any savings. Life certainly became a lot less fun in the traditional sense, but I found other ways to spend my time that were more fulfilling than trying a new beer with every meal. Only this year did I finally ditch my financial advisor after spending a few weeks getting savvy with how to invest on my own.

#13 - Finding a reason for fitness: Vanity is a powerful motivator to exercise but I never found it to be very sustainable after I was a teenager. I later tried motivating myself with the vague goal of being healthy, but it was never a compelling reason to lace up and run in the winter. I finally found a purpose for it all when I realized that the more fit I was, the more interesting my adventures in the outdoors could be. I could go further, faster, and add a margin of safety for myself in remote areas. Unfortunately, I was never inspired by competition. Instead, the drive to explore is what pushes me to rise early and stick to a training plan. Nothing excites me more than the “what if” game that I play with myself: what if I solo hiked the 30mi Pemi Loop in a day? what if I rode 130mi on my mountain bike in a day?

#14 - Cutting out coffee: During my food blogging days, I took pride in my deep appreciation of coffee culture. I loved the taste, the ritual, and especially the smell. In my mid-20s I started noticing friends and co-workers insisting they couldn’t function without several cups a day given their ever-growing tolerance. I found all that dependence repulsive and shuddered at the thought of becoming reliant on a drug to feel like a complete human. After a challenging month of going cold turkey, I began to wake up with a clear head naturally and never looked back. These days, I use caffeine like a PED. In some rare instances, I may pop a small dose in pill form if I need to perform my absolute best. I’m not against the idea of using any drugs (I think psilocybin should be be de-criminalized); I just don’t want to create a habit.

#15 - Saying no to video games: When I turned 20, I spent my savings on a computer that I custom-assembled for the sole purpose of being a souped-up gaming machine. When the fans finally began whirring as it booted up, I was giddy with excitement about all of the Call of Duty and Assassin’s Creed that I’d be playing. I imagined all of the upcoming late nights spent leveling up my character until I reached the end of a story, at which point I’d begin a new game, repeating the process over and over again. My excitement slowly turned to despair: I thought about the countless hours not going on dates with girls, not learning something new, and not hitting the gym. Before I even finished installing the OS, I vowed to never play any video games.

#16 - Tracking my life: As my fitness goals became more complex, I began to log my workouts daily. I expanded my recordings to also note how I felt physically during each session, which eventually evolved into documenting how I felt mentally as well. I noticed that the amount of sleep I got played a huge role in my performance and my mood, so I tracked that too. This progression of tracking my physical, then mental, and finally my sleep quality happened via trial and error over many years. I stuck with the habit because of how valuable it was for spotting trends and also making every day felt like it counted. For all of 2013, I recorded a second of video every day as part of a similar effort to try and make the most of my year. For many of my friends, it seems during the pandemic that each day would bleed into the next in a smear of monotony. I too felt some of that, but my habit of journaling each night helped a lot. Here’s a template of my log on Airtable (you’ll have to make a free account). Also, I use the Oura ring to help monitor sleep quality (reimbursed by my health insurance).

#17 - Getting Lasik: I remember the first time I tried on glasses as a kid and immediately feeling like I had superpowers; it was like switching the world into HD. When my vision finally stabilized in my mid-20s, I didn’t think twice about the corrective eye surgery. Glasses were uncomfortable and easily fogged, while contacts were prone to get dirty when camping. Being dependent on something that could easily break or get lost was a liability. I’m also a fan of reducing my “surface area of responsibility.” Having one fewer thing to worry about every day for the rest of my life is a win.

#18 - Cutting out alcohol: I’ll try not to be too preachy, but I lost interest in drinking once I started to save money; it was just the easiest thing to cut out. Eventually, I cut it out for my health. I never liked the feeling of waking up after a poor night’s sleep and knowing that my recovery was stunted. I saw the indulgence as counter-productive to my fitness goals which were intended to make my big mountain dreams a reality. I may enjoy a cocktail on a rare occasion, but it’s always a very thoughtful decision.

RELATIONSHIPS

#19- Long distance with Leah: For the entirety of my relationship with Leah, we’ve been long-distance. I knew it would be a challenge having to commute from New York to D.C. every few weeks, but I came to the conclusion that she was special and would be worth every crowded, five-hour bus ride I had to endure. I knew my criteria for a partner was someone who was curious and smart, sought out a life more adventurous, and could help me become a better person. I made the right choice with Leah, and being physically apart has forced us to rely heavily on honest and frequent communication. To this day, the longest we’ve ever spent together was a two-week trip to Chilean Patagonia. After three and a half years, we’ll finally be moving in together and I couldn’t be more excited.

#20 - Opening up to my parents: I grew up in a conservative Muslim family, but by the age of ten I found much of the traditions to be contrived and was simply going through the motions to please my family. I figured I could keep this ruse up for the rest of my life, but in the back of my mind I knew that I’d have to come clean someday. Dating wasn’t something they approved of, so my social life happened in secret while living with them in New York. I had an entirely different identity at home where nothing about the concerts, dates, photography, nightlife, food blogging, friends, or adventures outdoors existed. I would sometimes look with envy at friends who spoke to their families openly about relationship troubles or went out for drinks. They didn’t carry the weight of shouldering two diametrically opposed identities. In my mid-20s, I told them that I wasn’t a practicing Muslim. To say it shook the foundation of their universe is putting it lightly. They eventually normalized to that realization, and I rocked their world again years later when I told them how I was serious about Leah. In the end, it all worked out as well as I could’ve hoped for.

#21 - Buying my dad a car: I’m not sure why, but I always wanted to buy my father a car. The family car was the largest single purchase he’d ever make, so there was something meaningful to me about handling that for him one day. More important to me was checking this box off before I’d get myself one. My father never expected it and I knew that it’d be something that I’d be proud of for the rest of my life, as would he.

#22 - Having a bro circle of trust: I’ve worked for years on cultivating close relationships with several of my dude friends. I had a suspicion that that the older I got, the harder it might be to create a bond with another guy because of silly expectations on gender norms. I feel lucky to have guys who I can talk to when I felt down about something or needed a second opinion from someone other than Leah.

#23 - Having Ben as a friend: Of all the friends I’ve had, my longest and deepest relationship has been with Ben. We first met at Citymaps nearly a decade ago when I was looking for someone to train with ahead of a Tough Mudder. We started to hang out more and had the same taste in restaurant dishes (a preference for the spicy option), an equal sense of humor, enthusiasm for live performances, and a shared spirit for aggressively adventuring into unknown scenarios and just figuring it out. I took my first road trip with him to New Orleans and later around the West Coast, where I learned we also had the same approach to traveling. We’ve made many stupid decisions together and have countless stories to laugh and cringe over. I’ve known him for my entire adult life and can undoubtedly say it’s been all the better because of that bond. Friends like that are hard to find, so if you’ve got a Ben in your life keep em close.

#24 - Finding the climbing community: In addition to being a guiding compass for life, having a clear identity also helps with more easily finding “your kind of people.” Fortunately for me, the climbing community is a open-hearted and shares many of the same life values I do. I know that almost wherever I live, I’ll have a good shot at immersing myself into a group that resonates with me.

PERSPECTIVES

#25 - My own work-life balancing act: After getting clarity in on what gave me joy in life, I shifted my mindset on paid work. I embraced the belief that I was at a job for the sole purpose of funding my lifestyle. For example, if a new project demanded an additional hour of my free time, it was very unlikely to be worth any additional compensation I could expect to get. I also saw that didn’t need much to thrive if I kept to a simple lifestyle. As a result, I stopped caring about promotions, refused to let office pressure enter my personal headspace, and no longer defined myself by the work I did. This doesn’t mean I slack off on the clock; it just means that if I do choose to work overtime it’s because I’m passionate about the task and am genuinely curious.

#26 - Re-calibrating my image: Once I started to adventure outdoors, I cared less about how I’d present myself to others. Favoring fashion over function seemed absurd, whereas years ago I bought heavily into the notion that “the clothes make the man.” It all seems so wasteful and superficial now. The truth is that no one cared as much as I did about my own appearance; they were all too busy worrying about themselves.

#27 - Dinners with strangers: When my food blog was in its infancy, I drafted up an ambitious plan one summer to eat at as many restaurants as possible from my personal list. To make this feasible, I had to make dinner plans every single night. My friends weren’t the most reliable bunch and could be a wrench in my process, sometimes not ordering the dishes I wanted to write about. I decided to try my luck with Reddit’s r/NYC community with it’s nearly quarter-million members. I asked if anyone would be interested in meeting a 20-year old exploring the city through food. The response was overwhelming. I spent several hours arranging schedules and even turning people away, responding that I was booked for the month of July but had some openings in August. It felt odd, but the entire experiment was unusual. I met with a broad range of folks: slightly more women than men, some great conversationalists and others not so much, some of whom were interns visiting for the first time while others were natives who had even seen the first ever Ramones concert. I insisted on 1-on-1 dates instead of a group setting. What I learned that summer from dining with 50-60 people was that if I dug deep enough, there was a spark of something interesting about every single person no matter how awkward or different they were from me. I made it my mission each night to find out what was special about the person seated across the table from me. It was also a great exercise in having to re-introduce myself over and over again; I became fluent in articulating who I was and why they might care. My only regret is that I wasn’t yet comfortable with my writing to document those moments. In my last year being in New York City, I would have considered doing this again if not for the coronavirus.

#28 - Comfort with discomfort: Much of what I do during my free time is engage in stressful activities (climbing outside, endurance cycling, etc). No matter how much I practice it always is just as taxing as the last time, since I push the envelope a little bit further each time I reach a plateau. This is the opposite of how most people spend their weekends and certainly not how they spend their vacations. My idea of fun has always been to challenge myself and discover new levels of strength within. I’m by no means an adrenaline junkie (I really hate that term). Every risk taken is a calculated risk. I do all of this because of my core beliefs: growth only occurs outside of your comfort zone and personal growth is always more satisfying in the long run (relative to lounging in a hammock while someone else serves you a Mai Tai). This style of thinking has helped me get through many difficult moments in my personal life and in my career.

#29 - Growing up with less: When my family immigrated to the United States in 1990, they came with nothing but a bundle of clothes and the phone number of a distant relative. We lived for 4 years in an illegal basement unit, crammed to the brim with four or five roommates who slept on the couches we dragged off the street. Dinners were served on paper party plates, wiped down and reused until they fell apart. Every penny was precious, so it was expected that I’d wear my older sister’s clothes until at least the first grade. Like most kids with similar backgrounds, the value of money was deeply embedded in the way I saw the world and my future in it. It forced me to try harder at school. There was no way I could ever work a manual labor job like my parents did. I had to overcompensate for having parents whose education was limited, who were unable to help with homework, or could have thoughtful conversations with teachers about me. It all forced me to grow up fast and take greater responsibility. It also stifled me: the idea of paying a fortune to study abroad or dream about working in creative fields that didn’t pay top dollar was out of the question. Despite that, I’m grateful for the perspective it’s given me on what I have today and others in similar situations.

#30 - Graduating without debt: I remember feeling deeply ashamed that I wouldn’t be joining my friends in college. They were going far away to brand name schools, living in dorms and participating in the classic university experience. I’d be stuck in New York for at least four more years, commuting an hour each way to The City College of New York. While it’s hard for any 18-year old to understand the magnitude of absorbing six-figure debt, I did have some appreciation for tuition being essentially be free for me thanks to financial aid. Despite that, for years after graduating I’d dread the inevitable question at parties: “so, where’d you study?” Just like in my youth, I felt the need to overcompensate by outperforming those around me. It’d be years before I’d stop caring and finally be proud of what I had accomplished. In hindsight, I’m grateful for the opportunities presented to me in college and how I seized upon them. When I think of friends who will be on paying off student loans well into their 40s, I can’t help but feel relieved at my choice so many years ago.

It’s been a great 30 years! Would love to hear if you’ve enjoyed this digest. Feel free to let me know in the comments below what you’d consider your best things.

Finally climbing Zion's Namaste Wall

December 06, 2020

This post contains affiliate links. If you use these links to buy something I may earn a commission. Thanks for supporting me!

If you look online, there isn’t much written about climbing the beautiful Namaste Wall in Zion National Park. That makes sense, as it’s fairly simple to get to and a pretty straightforward climb. Still, I thought a piece of rock of this caliber deserves a bit more spotlight. Below is some route beta on the easiest route on the wall, the 1/2 Route (5.10+) as well as info about the area in general.

History & ethics

Conrad Anker, one of the climbing legends of our day, is credited with establishing several of the routes on this wall in the early 90s. In this piece in Outside Magazine, he lists this wall as having one of his all time favorite climbs (and this guy has climbed a lot around the world). Chris Sharma later visited and claimed “those were some of the best climbs ever, at any grade.”

The wall sits in a deep canyon that doesn’t see much foot traffic from hikers fortunately. While you are here, do your best to keep your impact to a minimum and be mindful of sharing the routes. Leah and I found toilet paper tossed into some shrubs within eyeshot of the wall. If you need to go, pack it out or make use of the toilet in the parking lot please.

Location and approach

NPS map of the park with Kolob Canyon in the top left. Click to expand

Close-up view of where to park in Kolob Canyon. Click to expand

The wall is located in the northwest part of Zion National Park (the Kolob Canyons), which you access by driving north along I-15. If you happen to be in Springdale, Watchman/South Campground, or the main Zion entrance, it’s about an hour to drive over.

On your way, I would strongly recommend you stop by River Rock Roasting Company for breakfast. I’d be only slightly exaggerating if I said that half the joy of waking up so close to Zion is getting something to eat here. They also make great pizzas for dinner. Call ahead: (435) 635-7625.

From I-15, take exit 40 and drive up on the Kolob Canyons Rd. The views are pretty spectacular as you ascend higher and higher. After a little over 3 miles you’ll come to a large parking lot at a hairpin turn with a picnic table and toilets. If you’re lucky, you’ll be the only car!

You’ll be heading into that deep canyon and hiking the very smooth South Fork Taylor Creek Trail about 1.5mi and ascend about 1,000ft gradually. Here’s the route line on Gaia. I can assure you that you will not get lost. The wall will be on your right-hand side and it is unmistakeable.

Climb the route

I was only fit enough to do the easiest route on the wall, 1/2 Route at 5.10+, but there are others. If you can climb 11s and 12s, be sure to check out Namaste (the route) and Huecos Rancheros.

The 1/2 Route is the first line of bolts from the left of the huecos marking the wall. It’ll likely be chalked up as the route doesn’t get washed from rainfall much due to the overhanging nature. Still, be mindful about climbing on wet rock. You can permanently damage the route and kill yourself and your partner. Sandstone crumbles easily when wet!

There are 7 bolts to the anchor and you should be able to count them all from below. If you look closer, you’ll notice a second set of anchors. This is the extension to the route, which adds three more bolts and kicks the grade up to 11+. Getting up to the first anchor (~80ft) is all we did. You’ll find lower-off carabiners. They were quite worn down and deeply grooved from use, so I’m hoping they get replaced soon. If there’s someone who is willing to do this, let me know and I’ll pay for it (send me a recording of yourself doing it though).

All of the holds are generously positive and the movement is amazing. You’ll find knee bars and arm bars for balance, heel hooks, and restful one-arm hangs where you can shake out. You should feel like a hero climbing this wall. If you’re lucky, someone will be taking photos of you. Just try wearing something colorful that stands out from the red wall.

How to top rope

If your partner wants to top rope (or you want to give it a quick second burn), be sure to use your own gear at the top. Don’t put further wear on the carabiners that are intended just for lowering off. After you’ve climbed it and have lowered off on your own anchor material, “flip the rope”by pulling it down from “your side” of the rope. Have your climber tie into the end of the rope closest to the wall. As she climbs up, she’ll have to unclip the rope from the seven quickdraws that you placed. When she’s at the top and ready to be lowered, transfer the rope over to the lower-off carabiners.

Whoever does end up cleaning the route after a lead will need to be mindful of removing the first quickdraw to avoid a swing that violently drags their belayer across the ground. For an example of what I mean, check this video out (it’s full of examples of how NOT to climb properly).

Things to be aware of

The route is in a deep canyon, overhanging, and north-facing, so it’s always in the shade. I climbed it in November and found my fingers and toes going numb easily. I’d love to come back in a warmer month like September. I’ve read that bugs can be a nuisance in the peak summer months so be prepared for that.
Do your gear a favor and bring a rope tarp. The base of the climb is very sandy and while there’s no avoiding getting it on your rope, you can mitigate it. Sand on your rope will wear your gri gri out faster as the particles grind down the lightweight aluminum. I love the Sterling Rope Tarp as it comes with a handy ‘pocket’ for tucking away cord during a climb (so your belayer doesn’t step on it).
The route’s steep and overhanging, and your belayer will likely want to crane their heads to get a good look at you sending. I’m glad I packed my belay glasses to avoid straining my neck. I’ve never encountered a better set of belay glasses than Y&Ys glasses. I initially balked at the price but I’d do it again if I had to. So worth it. Other brands feel cheap and plastic-y. They make a special clip-on version for folks who wear glasses but I can’t speak to how good those are.
The first bolt on 1/2 Route is too high for a stick clip to reach, but the holds are all positive and the clipping stance is top notch. If you are in the market for a stick clip, I love this one from Kailas because it’s cheap, collapses really small, and is quite long when extended.
If you hiked all the way here and found several parties in front of you, it likely is going to be a bummer waiting in line for em especially if everyone else is there for the same easy route. Pack a lunch and enjoy the show. There are other routes in the South Fork but they’re mostly hard slab climbs that see little traffic (so they get coated in sand) or hard trad cracks that look beautiful (I’ve yet to see anyone try em though).
If it’s wet and you had your hopes on climbing the Namaste Wall, I would say it’s still worth hiking there just to admire the wall. It’s quite a beauty. That’s what I did last year and I had no regrets about making the hike. The canyon is gorgeous and absolutely peaceful.

Climbing and rappelling Cat in the Hat (5.6, trad) in Red Rock

December 04, 2020

This post contains affiliate links. If you use these links to buy something I may earn a commission. Thanks for supporting me!

Before any climb, I try to learn as much as possible about a route. The higher the commitment, the more time I’ll spend poring over guidebooks and shaky GoPro footage on YouTube. Despite the popularity of Cat in the Hat (nearly a thousand ticks on Mountain Project) I was a bit disappointed by the inconsistency in the recommended beta, primarily around how to rappel most efficiently. Below is an attempt to synthesize hours of research with additional insight from having done it myself. If you’re trying to onsight the route, you’re in the wrong place.

History & Ethics

Skip ahead if you find this boring, but I think it’s interesting and important. If you haven’t heard of George and Joanne Urioste, they are legends of Red Rock Canyon and are responsible for over a hundred first ascents on many RR classics including Cat in the Hat. When they first moved to Las Vegas in the mid-70s, they weren’t too keen on the climbing after encountering poor rock and bushwhacking the thorny desert brush. In 1976 they began exploring Mescalito, the peak which CitH climbs the south face and made the first ascent of the route. That route opened their mind to the possibilities within Red Rock Canyon, ultimately making it a world class climbing destination.

The desert is a fragile environment and Red Rock sees a ton of traffic. Do your best to keep your impact to a minimum. Within three hundred feet of the trailhead, Leah and I came across bags of dog poop left hidden behind cactus, rocks, and trees. Gross. If you can carry it to a trash bin on a city sidewalk, you can do it here too.

Preparing for the climb

There’s a good chance you’re visiting, so you might be carrying some jetlag. Try your best to get a good night’s sleep as you’ll be waking up early to beat the crowds. Get your gear, clothing, and water packed up before you doze off.

Aim to be at the entrance fee station by 6:30am or earlier. Ideally you have an annual parks pass (or the equivalent) so you don’t waste time buying one that morning. Setting your alarm 15 minutes earlier could save you over an hour on the route. Make sure you leave enough time to have breakfast and do your morning duty (heh).

The approach

An easy start

Park at the Pine Creek Canyon parking lot. It takes about 30 min to get there from the entrance and you’ll have a spectacular drive if you’re catching the sunrise. When you arrive there may be other cars, but don’t be too discouraged. There are other popular routes accessed from here. Grab your gear, hydrate from the car, and go.

Many climbers get lost on the approach, which should take you about 40 minutes (1.45mi) on mostly flat terrain. In order to avoid going down the wrong path (especially if we had to return in the dark), I loaded up the trail (see GPX line) on my watch and on Gaia offline. It was spot on accurate the entire time. We could hear other climbers lost on adjacent trails and quietly walked faster.

Mescalito’s south face

You’re aiming for left side of Mescalito. The first pitch is not visible to you as it faces southwest. Eventually you’ll turn off the main trail and head right into some brush. If you’re unlucky, you’ll hear some voices already there.
Drink some more water and leave a small pack at the base with extra water and snacks for your return. Only climb with the water and snacks you’ll need for *while* you climb.

Pitch 1 and 2

View of P1 from the base

The base of the climb and the first pitch will likely be in shade, so get ready for some cold climbing. Start below an obvious left-slanting crack.
It’s fairly easy at 5.5 with an easily protectable crux.

I would highly recommend combining Pitches 1 and 2 for a full 150ft climb. This is the popular way to do it. Pitch 1 ends at a set of bolted anchors on an uncomfortable, semi-hanging belay after about 100-110ft. You’ll later use this station for rappelling. Climb an additional 40-50ft up the left-slanting fist-sized crack. You’ll know you’ve arrived at the top of Pitch 2 when you come to a massive ledge with a bolted anchor. In that 40-50ft you will pass by what looks like a massive ledge that slopes downward. This isn’t it. You’re looking for the big, flat ledge a few feet higher. You should see the three-bolt anchor easily. I did myself a favor and pre-made a quad at the bottom which I used to bring my partner up. Get familiar with this station as you’ll later use it for rappel.

No special beta for this pitch, except that you should try avoiding rope drag, you may use your #4 cam, and don’t clip the bolt of the P1 anchors as protection (it’ll cause rope drag).

Scramble

After bringing your partner up while enjoying the sunshine, wander right around the protruding rock until you’re face to face with a groove with a left-leaning crack. The first move is the most committing but it’s a walk in the park after that. Once you top out, walk over to a short, black wall and set up your gear anchor there. You should have your entire rack to choose from. Heads up that if you need to pee, this general area is your best spot to avoid doing your business near a belay station.

Some parties choose to climb this unroped. For the comfort of my partner, I chose to stay roped in but placed no gear. I put her on belay and she quickly made it over to me. I’m not counting this as a pitch.

Pitch 3

This pitch is about 50-70ft and is also 5.5. The first moves are the hardest and put you on a ledge. Move into the left-facing corner and aim for a tree. You’ll later use this tree to rappel.

I would advise you to not use the tree as your belay anchor though. Instead, make a gear anchor at the base of wall that you’ll climb for next pitch (about 15 feet further up). This dark wall marks the first exposed part of the next pitch and is easy to see from the rappel tree.

Some advantages of the gear anchor higher up are that you’ll be more comfortable and any party behind can use the tree below instead of crowding with you. The downside of course is that you’re using gear. I still think it’s worth it.

Pitch 4

Pitch 5

This is a short, easy pitch of about 50 feet and maybe comes in at 5.3, but there’s quite a bit of exposure. While you were bringing your partner up, you may have noticed bolts following a sharp arete directly above you. This is Rabbit’s Arete (5.10d). Go for it if you feel like it, but I can’t really advise. If you’re sticking to the route, what you’ll do is step down from the belay and carefully traverse right around a corner. If you stay low, it will feel easy and the exposure shouldn’t bother you. If you don’t go low enough, you’re making it more challenging. There are some opportunities for placing pro on this traverse, but not too many. Try not to fall or have your follower slip.

You’ll get to a varnished, black wall that is split by a crack. This is Pitch 6. Resist the temptation to climb it now. My advice would be to make a gear anchor inside the crack instead of lower down on a ledge. This will put you ahead of any other parties who may be climbing Cookie Monster (5.7), which merges with Cat in the Hat here. It’s a hanging belay but not that bad.

Pitch 6

This is the money pitch. 100-110 feet of 5.6-5.7 climbing up the crack. All the holds are there and the gear is plentiful. Eventually the crack will peter out and you’ll want to trend up and right towards a bolt. There are two crux-y moves on slab that are somewhat runout. It really isn’t that bad as long as you read the rock carefully for the best possible ridges and crimps. Don’t overthink it.

The anchor has 3 bolts and the stance isn’t very comfortable for belaying or rappelling, which you’ll want to do as soon as your partner is up. This isn’t the kind of finish where you eat lunch and watch the view. There’s likely a whole army of climbers on their way up. The climb can continue to the summit of Mescalito if you feel bold and like the idea of 500ft of 4th class scrambling up and down, but I was eager to get down.

Rappel

My advice for rapping will assume you have a 70m rope. If you have two 60m ropes, that’s better (except you’re more likely to get your joining knot caught in flakes). With a 70m, it should take you 5 rappels. It is absolutely essential that you tie knots at the end of your rope. These rappels are using the full length of your rope. I’d also recommend using a rappel extension and pre-rigging your partner so they can come down as soon as you’re ready. It’s a pain, but I’d highly recommend using saddlebags instead of tossing your ropes. You’ll have zero snags and zero climbers who you tossed the rope on top of.

Rappel 1: From the top of Pitch 6, set up your rappel to descend left of where you came up. You’ll descend over anyone climbing Rabbit’s Arete and you’ll see climbers heading up Pitch 6 to your right. Take a photo!

This rappel will take you to the slung boulder at the start of Pitch 5. Depending on how much shrinkage your rope has gotten due to age, you may end up standing on the boulder instead of next to it. Before you untie the knots at the end of your rap lines, tether yourself to the boulder. If you did untie the knots, re-tie them for your partner so they don’t rap off the ends.

Rappel 2: The slung boulder has a rap ring on it. This rappel is another rope-stretcher so be sure to tie knots. This will take you to the base of Pitch 4, 15 feet above the tree anchor. You’ll have to come off rappel and down-scramble unroped 15 feet to the tree anchor. Be mindful of your footing, but it’s not too scary.

Rappel 3: This rappel is another rope-stretcher for a 70m line. It will get you to the base of that scramble section earlier (i.e., the bolted station at the top of Pitch 2). You’re walking across a big ledge for part of it so the rappel will be a bit of a struggle of you have a tight friction hitch. You likely will need to untie from the rope in order to pull it, since it doesn’t quite reach the anchor. It’s not bad at all as the ledge is massive.

Rappel 4: A 70m will not reach the ground from here, so you’ll need to make one more stop at the top of Pitch 1 (this was the bolted anchor we skipped on the way up). It’s an uncomfortable hanging belay/rappel station.

Rappel 5: This is it. Take it all the way to the ground.

Final thoughts

If you want all of this in a to-go format, check out the condensed notes here.
It took us 9 hours to climb it car-to-car and we were the second party on the route. The first party was so fast they weren’t an issue at all. There were at least 5 parties who would be rappelling in the dark instead of enjoying a hike out with the beautiful sunset.
Drink water in the car before you leave, at the base of the climb, during the climb, and as soon as you’re back down. Carry up only what you need and you’ll of course need much less if you’re drinking when you’re not roped up.
We climbed this on Thanksgiving week on a Tuesday. Temps ranged from 35-55 degrees Fahrenheit.
If you’re climbing up, don’t clip the rap rings on the slung boulder and incorporate the ring into your anchor. That is not what it’s there for. (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻
I would recommend doubles from BD #0.3 to 3 and a single #4. No need for hexes or tricams. I barely used any nuts.
Don’t forget your headlamp. Be sure it’s charged. Getting behind the wrong party can mean you’ll be out in the dark. Fortunately, you can rappel almost whenever if you have the right rope. Ask yourself whether it’s worth doing the last pitches if you’re losing daylight and there’s a queue ahead.
While there isn’t any need for crack climbing, I enjoyed using my crack gloves. I also thoroughly enjoyed having my battery-heated Black Diamond Hot Forge chalk bag too. It was so nice to return some feeling into my fingers on the first pitch.
My favorite item by far was having a walkie talkie to talk to my partner. There are so many people on this route and the long pitches and potential for wind in the canyon means that communication can be tough. My absolute favorite has been the Rocky Talkie. It dramatically made the climb more fun.
For the approach, check out Gaia. I’ve been a member for a while and have saved countless hours by not getting lost.

Happy to answer any questions. Just reach out. Hope you have fun!

Beta sheet for Cat in the Hat (5.6)

December 04, 2020

Below are notes you may want to save on your phone for easy reference while you’re climbing. The more detailed version that you may want to read beforehand can be found here: https://rajahamid.com/journal/2020/12/4/climbing-and-rappelling-cat-in-the-hat-red-rock

APPROACH: 1.45mi, 40min

- Use Gaia GPX route. follow the main trail basically. Aim for the left side of Mescalito

- After the main trail, there is a big triangle laid out with rocks—you can't miss it

- The first pitch faces SW and is in the shade in early morning, it cannot be seen from the parking lot.

- start below an obvious left-slanting crack

Pitch 1 & 2: 150ft, 5.5 — long pitch following the crack

- Climb the left-slanting crack and skip the 2-bolt anchor belay (later for rappel)

- Continue up the left-slanting fist crack

- The next bolt anchor (later for rappel) is off to the RIGHT on a massive, sloping ledge which is easy to miss. Don't get sucked left into a gully (if so, belay from gear)

Scramble

- 3rd class wander to the right and up onto a huge terrace to the highest point on the ledge. First move is the most committing.

Pitch 3: 50-70ft, 5.5 — hard first move, aim for tree

- Boulder up a short, black wall to gain a ledge

- From the left end of the ledge, pull over a small overhang into a left-facing corner

- Aim for a tree anchor (later for rappel) on a ledge at the top of a gully. SUGGESTED making a gear anchor instead at the base of the crack that marks the first really exposed part of the next pitch.

Pitch 4: 120-150ft, 5.6 — steep crack to slung block

- Climb a thin crack in a black, steep face to the left of a small corner. Don’t go right to the edge of the roof.

- Traverse left well below that small, white roof to reach a finger crack.

- Follow this all the way up to a ledge to a slung block (later for rappel)

Pitch 5: 50ft, 5.3 — short traverse right

- Above you are bolts, this is the 10d direct variation. Avoid!

- Step down and traverse right around a corner. The traverse is barely 5th class if done low (properly).

- Arrive to a ledge at the base of a varnished black wall split by a crack

- Make a gear anchor

Pitch 6 :100-110ft, 5.7/5.6 — up the crack to a bolt and then runout

- Climb the crack

- Angle rightwards to a bolt (crux). Two tricky slab moves that are protected by a bolt 5 feet below

- Head up a face (somewhat runout) to a 2 bolt belay

RAPPEL — single 70m rope in 5 rappels. saddlebags + knots at the end will save you

R1: from the top of pitch 6 (top of the route) to the top of pitch 4 (slung boulder) left us standing on the boulder just to the climber's right of the slung boulder.

R2: The second rappel from there to the top of pitch 3 (tree anchor) left us standing on the ledge at the base of pitch 4 with a very short (10 yards) easy unroped downclimb to the tree anchor.

R3: The third rappel got us all the way to the top of pitch 2 (bolted anchor at the big ledge) without having to even downclimb the short scramble.

R4: The rope from there didn't reach all the way to the ground, so we rapped to the bolted anchor at the top of pitch 1

R5: From the top of P1, we rappelled to the ground.

Three Cool Things (Everesting, Icarus film, Cyclon shoe)

September 27, 2020

This post is part of a (potential) weekly series where I share just three things that I thought were interesting. Leave your thoughts in the comments section!

EVERESTING

There’s a good chance you’ve already heard of this. When Tom told me about it this week, he seemed surprised that I hadn’t. Everesting is a pretty simple concept with pretty simple rules: you ascend a single hill multiple times without stopping until you cumulatively have totaled 8,848m (29,029ft). As of September 2020 just shy of 12,000 people have accomplished this and have made it to the hall of fame on Everesting.cc. The first recorded attempt of this feat was by George Mallory’s grandson (of the same name) in 1994 when he rode eight laps on Mount Donna Buang. Afterward, rules started to form around it and it became more official. No surprise that there’s been renewed interest in the challenge from both pros and weekend warriors alike as they’ve looked for creative ways to push themselves during Covid.

I took a look around the map on the Everesting.cc map and found a few successful attempts within NYC, which is famously not hilly. Someone had biked the Williamsburg bridge for 37 hours straight to accumulate the required elevation gain! It’s not something for me, but I’m very impressed by the effort.

Icarus (2017 film)

I watched this film while on a spin bike, which felt appropriate. Initially the film seemed like it was going to tell a story about cycling and doping. We see filmmaker Bryan Fogel intentionally (but reluctantly) taking performance enhancing drugs under the supervision of Russian scientist Grigory Rodchenkov. It seemed like a bizarre, athletic version of the film Super Size Me where a guy ate nothing but McDonalds for a month as an experiment.

Icarus takes a turn mid-way through and becomes a film about Russian state-sponsored corruption, the dangers of telling the truth, and the lengths people will go to win. Grigory ends up being a whistle-blower and exposes what’s considered the largest scandal in sports history. He’s now in the US Federal Witness Protection Program and has left his family and financial stability in Russia. It’s so much more than a sports movie. Check it out on Netflix. It won an Oscar for Best Documentary in 2018.

Cyclon shoe

This came up on my Instagram feed and the clickbait title caught me: You will never own this shoe. That message was placed on top of a fairly boring-looking all-white sneaker. It was an ad from On Running. The idea is that these running sneakers are rented, not sold, via a subscription service of $29.99 a month. This shoe is partially made from castor beans and is recyclable. The value prop seems to be: instead of shelling out hundreds of dollars a year on running sneakers that you’ll toss, you get a fresh pair every month without the guilty conscience of your kicks ending up in a landfill. Check em out for yourself on their website.

There’s a lot of emotion in the comments section of their Facebook and Instagram posts to say the least. My point of view is that spending $360 on running sneakers every year is way too much, but perhaps this is targeted to more serious athletes. I also feel uncomfortable with subscribing to yet another service. I’m already paying for (or sharing) the Adobe suite, Spotify, video streaming services, Peloton, Amazon Prime, my iPhone etc. Do I really need another?

A bigger question is: how much more am I willing to pay to reduce my footprint? Unintentional pun.

Cycling to Bear Mountain and Croton Dam from NYC - 130 miles in a day

September 21, 2020

This post contains affiliate links. If you use these links to buy something I may earn a commission. Thanks for supporting me!

This ride was done on September 19th, 2020. If you’re looking for my GPS track and a link to the map pictured above, check it out on Gaia. If the link fails for whatever reason, shoot me a message and I’ll figure it out. If you follow the route above, note that there are some micro-optimizations I’d make in hindsight. I’ll try to cover any questions you may have about the ride below. Scroll to the bottom for a photo slideshow.

THE INSPIRATION

After my climbing gym closed for Covid and I didn’t have to schlep myself into the office, I found myself with more time for structured endurance training of my legs. Without a goal in mind, I decided to train exclusively in my Zone 1 and Zone 2 heart rate. Given how slowly I was moving, I wasn’t much of a fun running partner for Leah. Unlike high-intensity interval training, results were not immediate; fortunately, I knew what I was getting myself into after poring over Training for the New Alpinism and Training for the Uphill Athlete several times.

Prior to the NYC lockdown in March, I hadn’t used my mountain bike beyond commuting ten minutes to work. I would never have called myself a cyclist. I hadn’t even used my bike for dirt trails more than twice. My reluctance to use my bike for exploring the city was because of bike thefts, so I never saw it as a means of covering any mileage. I started to change my mind when I found the r/NYCbike community and what was possible.

MAKING IT HAPPEN

Throughout the summer I looked for new destinations to bike to, keeping a watchful eye on the mileage. When I felt comfortable with 20 miles, I bumped it up to 30, and so on. My longest ride was in Acadia National Park (see that story here) where I clocked in 100 miles over two days. Through some accident on the bike rental shop’s part I was given a brand new Specialized Tarmac road bike, which I’d later find out was $7,000! I hadn’t ridden a road bike before so it felt like I was on a rocket ship.

I floated the idea of doing a century ride to Bear Mountain with Ben and Greg. Only Greg had done a century ride before and he’d also be the only person with a road bike (although it was 30 years old).

While mapping out the route, I planned for us to return on the same path. Leah gave me the idea to cross the Hudson and cover new ground. I then realized how close I’d be to Croton Gorge Park and figured it was worth the additional miles. The estimated distance now totaled about 125 miles, and the most I had ever ridden in a single push was 60 miles on smooth national park road on a souped-up machine.

Leah suggested I rent a road bike for the attempt, but I refused. I wanted to prove to myself that my full-suspension mountain bike (weighing 30lbs) would be sufficient. I was willing to be stubborn, but I wasn’t willing to be an idiot. I planned out bail options along the Metro-North Railroad, plotted out water refuel stops and bike repair shops, and even refreshed myself on how to change my tube. I asked r/NYCbike for some optimizations on the route and even looked into some history of the area to amp up the enjoyment I’d get from cruising around upstate New York.

HOW I DID IT

I took a sleeping pill the evening before (reluctantly) to ensure I’d get a proper rest from an early bedtime. I drank half a liter of water at 5AM and made a simple protein shake for breakfast.

We met up at 6AM by the Tribeca bridge as it was convenient for the guys arriving from Brooklyn. The temps hovered around the low 50s and we pushed against 15mph headwinds. I could feel my body trying hard and I started to doubt myself, but when we finally made it past the George Washington Bridge and were protected from the brunt of the wind, I felt like I was dialed in.

After about 40 miles, I took off my softshell jacket and biked for the rest of the day in my sun hoody until about sunset. I did not pack a first aid kit beyond some Aleve (which I had planned to take at the halfway point), some wipes, and antibiotic. Some folks may not be a fan of this approach, but I was comfortable with the thin kit because of how close we were to civilization.

My strategy for food was a calorie drip of 150 calories per hour. At the top of every hour, I would eat about 100 calories of food and drink a third of a liter of water (which had calories from my drink mix).
🚴🏾‍♀️
In the early morning hours, I biased toward sugars and gels given that my body was low on carbs from sleep. I had my last caffeinated snack at about 2pm. At the summit of Bear Mountain (around lunch time) I intentionally broke my 150 cal/hr rule and ate about 600 calories (mostly protein).
🚴🏾‍♂️
By the end, I had burned about 10,000 calories that day. I carried all this in a hiking backpack (no panniers or cycling jersey to stuff this into).

WHAT I’D DO DIFFERENTLY

I don’t think there’s much I’d do differently, so I’ll call out some of the things I did that made a huge difference.

Having a softshell jacket helped with the wind and kept my core body temperature reasonable.
I relied heavily on my GPS, so I made sure to carry a big external battery which was absolutely necessary.
I’m glad I did this with friends. I’m comfortable hiking big objectives solo (e.g., Pemi loop in a day) but I felt more psychologically safe biking near car traffic knowing that I was with others.
I wore a heart rate monitor belt and could see my effort on my watch. This was mostly psychological as it gave me more confidence on hills (e.g., while pedaling up a hill I was in Zone 4, which I knew I could sustain for several minutes).
Having a high quality phone mount on my bike was amazing for removing my phone quickly and using it while mounted. I had been using cheap ones before and finally got an expensive one. I heard the Quad Lock is good but I use the Rokform mount.

WHAT SURPRISED ME

This is going to sound strange, but I was surprised at how prepared we were. There was very little in terms of what was unexpected. I even watched crappy GoPro footage from some cyclists who had done similar loops.

I thought I’d pay more attention to taking better photos, but I couldn’t find the headspace to do that. My mind was occupied with enjoying the scenery or keeping momentum. Most of my photos were taken while on the move.

The biggest surprise to me was that there was zero soreness in my muscles the next day. I assumed everything from my quads to my neck would need serious rest for days, but that wasn’t the case at all. I give full credit to my simple but diligent and consistent routine of great sleep, heavy hydration, lots of protein, liberal use of a massage gun, recovery yoga, breathing exercises, and long low-intensity workouts.

WHAT’S NEXT

While the temps are still good, I’m wondering what else I can get done.

Can I do more mileage with a better bike and/or less elevation? If so, where would I go? How much of my cycling fitness can I keep during the winter when biking will freeze my fingers off?

If you have any ideas for big linkups, let me know!

THE FULL STORY

I put together and pinned a story on Instagram (see here) but I might take it down at some point. Here it is in case you want some visuals to get you stoked. If you decide to try this, let me know! I’ll be cheering for you.

Taken from near the summit of Borestone Mountain in central Maine. Sunrise Pond, Mid-day Pond, and Sunset Pond are framing the background. We had the mountain all to ourselves.

Summer in Maine - Sebec Lake and Acadia National Park

July 12, 2020

I stepped onto the platform, amazed at how empty and clean the train was. Leah was waiting for me outside the station, grateful that I hadn’t taken another crowded and smelly Greyhound bus, which I promised myself for the fourth time I’d never do regardless of how cheap tickets were. We embraced and headed over to Gloucester, where we’d stay with her parents for a few days before driving up to Maine for the week.

Her folks owned a cabin right on Sebec Lake, one of the state’s more spectacular lakes. We had talked about visiting together for years but never prioritized it; international trips and visits to blockbuster destinations would always get the first pick on a limited pool of vacation days. With travel restrictions this year, the cabin in Maine seemed like the perfect spot to hide out from the pandemic and disconnect from the world. We saw on a map that we’d be close to Acadia National Park, and realized it’d be an ideal time to visit: the Canadian border was closed and the lack of cruise ships unloading tourists into Bar Harbor presented a once in a lifetime opportunity. I was also eager to give Acadia another chance: my first visit left me feeling that it was the Disneyland of national parks given how car-friendly it was.

On the evening before we left, Leah tried out her new wetsuit in the ocean a short walk from home. She was excited for swimming in Sebec Lake, which apparently would remain cold til late August. She made sure I didn’t forget to ask Ben for his wetsuit, which he kindly let me borrow.

Sunrise over Sebec

It took some persuading the evening we arrived to convince Leah to get up for sunrise at 4:45am. To squeeze out a few extra minutes of sleep, she had me believe that it’d take a while before I’d see any light and that I might as well set my alarm for later. (None of that was actually true).
I woke up before my alarm, excited to put on my shoes and head out the door. I wasn’t sure if Leah would join, but she eventually rolled out of bed and we stepped out into the sweet piney air together. We followed a dirt trail til we found the last dock. The owners weren’t home so we sat out and watched the warm colors slowly drain from the sky.

Out for a swim

Leah was bummed that the boat on our dock wouldn’t start, but we donned our wetsuits and went for a dip in the lake. To our surprise the water was more refreshing than it was cold, even in the early morning hours.

The afternoon weather wasn’t looking too promising, so we decided to do just a short hike to the summit of Borestone Mountain. This trail might have been the most popular one in central Maine, but everyone we came across was heading down. Once we reached the top, the wind picked up and held on til the thick rain began pouring on us. Fortunately we were below treeline when the thunder was crackling into the open sky.

The following day we took out the canoe to Buck’s Cove, which Leah said was one of the more wilder parts of the lake. It hadn’t been inhabited by people since the Natives. The trees also grew thicker and darker on this edge of the lake . We even spotted a bald eagle perched on the edge of the water, watching us curiously from a distance.

Finding our way in the woods

Leah mentioned there was a locally-known trail behind the cabin leading to the “Ice Caves.” She was in middle school when she last saw the massive glacial erratic boulders that held cold air all year round.
We ended up on a wrong path and never found the ice caves. About a mile of hiking through thickly vegetated woods where the spongy dirt sank a little with each step led us to a deserted cabin. There were piles of odd, old metal bits and parts scattered around, junkyard-style. It was clear someone lived there, but it didn’t seem like anyone was home. We stayed for a minute or so and then quickly slipped away before the excited swarm of mosquitos chewed through our clothes.

After several days of relaxing and enjoying the lake views from the porch, we packed up and headed to the coast. On the drive we listened to a podcast about the 1947 fire in Maine that changed the ecology and population of Mount Desert Island. Shortly after we arrived to the park, we hiked up to the top of Acadia Mountain. Just as quickly as the fog lifted for us when we topped out, it enveloped us as we descended. We met a solo hiker named Chris who had grown up on the island before moving to settle in New York City. He asked if we wanted to hike and chat, which was a bit unusual given the pandemic. None of us had masks on and we didn’t make any intentional effort to keep a strict six feet of distance.

Sand Beach

We found the parking lot for Sand Beach to be nearly empty. I took in a deep breath of the cool, salty air as soon as we stepped out of the car. There weren’t many visitors. We sat on the edge of the water, listening to the rumble of the grey ocean crashing into the short. The sun finally cut through the overcast and the scene transformed. The waves took on a vibrant blue and the tops of pine trees above the cliffs were painted with an evening gold.

We drove along the park loop road a short distance to Thunder Hole. To get away from the few groups waiting to take photos at the main ‘splash zone’ vista, we kicked off our sandals and climbed down and up a steep chute to access a large rocky platform. We were just beyond eyeshot of the other visitors and certainly couldn’t hear them over the waves.

Otter Point at sunset

We made one last stop before calling it a night. Just as the sky became a cotton candy pink, we pulled into Otter Point. Not a single car or visitor was in sight; we had the entire sunset to ourselves. Out in the distance, we could see and hear a white buoy ringing a bell with every wave that rocked it, warning of a hidden rock formation just below the surface. From here, the waves sounded like a hushed whisper broken only by a clear ring every few seconds.

A very lucky accident

Leah suggested we get some major miles in on bikes around Mount Desert Island. The most I had ever ridden was a little over 20 miles, and I had never been on a road bike before. The rental shop accidentally sold the bike I booked and was entirely out of stock. They instead had to take a brand new $7,000 road bike from their sales floor and slapped a rental sticker on it, meaning I’d be the first to give it a spin.

I was impressed at how much faster I could bike without exerting any effort. We certainly slowed down to enjoy any views, walking our bikes along gravel paths that led to the edge of the water. Our loop today would 42 miles on what was called the “quieter side” of the island. Our path took is in and out of the national park and residential streets. It was fun to see the homes and imagine what it might be like to live in such a scenic place. None of the houses were too gaudy; all seemed to prioritize being secluded, which wasn’t surprising: the park had over 3 million visitors in 2019. For context, the entire island has a population of 10,000.

Bubble rock

We still felt fresh after the ride and the sun was still high in the sky. After some popovers at the Jordan Pond House, we put away the bikes and hiked up to South Bubble for a view of Bubble Rock, a glacial erratic precariously balanced on the edge of a cliff. The most popular photo pose is of someone trying to push it over. Eventually it will topple (geologic time includes now), and I wondered who that lucky and surprised soul would be.
We planned to get takeout at a restaurant and sit by the Bass Harbor Head Lighthouse. The restaurant we had in mind announced that it’d be closing its doors for good in two days given the pandemic. When we showed up, to our surprise they asked if we wanted a table for two. Apparently Maine had just allowed indoor dining to resume, which was quite convenient because it started raining hard. Sitting in a restaurant was quite an odd experience to say the least.

I woke up the next day feeling pretty great in my legs, which didn’t surprise me. My recipe for recovery has a simple but strict regimen of aggressive hydrating (without alcohol), lots of protein, relaxing stretching, good sleep, and my favorite: blasting away any soreness with a massage gun (I use the Hypervolt). Today we’d be tackling a bigger loop of about 60 miles through the more populated side of Mount Desert Island. It was also Friday, July 3rd, so there’d be more car traffic to deal with. Fortunately we had clear skies and a nice breeze from the ocean to cool us off whenever we needed to catch our breath.

I was even more grateful today to be on two wheels, which allowed us stop wherever and whenever we wanted. There were random short paths that led out to amazing, secluded vistas just off the side of the road, some of which didn’t have a convenient spot to park a car. We were able to roll up and get a lesser-seen perspective on Acadia because of the freedom of being on a bike. I’m sure that earning our views with each pedal stroke also made the moments feel all the more special.

Daydreaming

In addition to the added mileage exposing us to more scenery, we also coasted through more residential parts of the island. Leah and I fantasized out loud about living here when we retired, going back and forth on whether we thought our friends would visit us. I assumed they would, but mostly to see the park and use the extra bedroom. I quietly wondered which national park would be the best one to live near. I’ve got my money on Yosemite.

At the high point

Whatever comfort in my riding strength I had evaporated when we started the climb up Cadillac Mountain, the island’s high point at 1,529 ft. It’s not particularly high, but I hadn’t ever biked up anything more than a small hill prior to this. The slope was also never very steep, it just seemed to go on forever. Halfway up I began to quietly damn all the cars that gliding up the road. I wanted to give up for a short breather at each minute, but I knew I’d be prouder of myself I stayed in the saddle and pushed on.

Happy and sore

Despite my padded bike shorts, my butt was so sore at the top. Leah and I laid down on a clearing of flat rock and didn’t move for several minutes. When we finally made our way down, which I’d been looking forward to the entire ride up, I felt like a missile hurtling down to earth. The views at every turn were incredible and the roar of the cold wind was deafening. I had to keep myself in check from going too fast and accidentally biking off the road on the hairpin turns.

We closed out the evening by eating a spread of ice cream, pizza, curly fries, chips, and lobster rolls. It felt great to get real food in us after a diet of sucking down energy gels and chugging electrolyte water for the entirety of the day. We pulled up to Echo Lake, and ate our food on a small beach. We didn’t go in for a swim, but the freshwater here is some of the warmest on the island for taking a dip.

On our last day out in the park we had just enough time for a hike to the top of Mansell Mountain, overlooking Long Pond. As we drove through the island, we noticed that some parts of the island were shrouded in thick fog whereas driving two minutes away would open us up to a perfect summer morning with blue skies. The trail we took up was the Perpendicular Trail, a steep staircase of a path that was appropriately named. We happened to be on the foggy side of the island, so there wasn’t much for views, but any day on the trail is better than a day off trail.

We had a phenomenal week in Maine. Even on the days that it rained up in the cabin, we made the most of it by sitting on the porch watching the weather roll in and out, even swimming in the lake when it rained (you can’t get any more wet after all). It was both a relaxing and stimulating week. I changed my views on Acadia and got to experience it in a different way. I wouldn’t ever come again on the fourth of July, but if I did, I’d definitely be on two wheels and would avoid any of the popular, blockbuster trails unless I were to do them at odd hours (sunrise or very late in the day).

I hope you get a chance to experience some Acadia magic yourself. However you do it, be safe and be responsible! 😊

Last days in Red Rock

March 21, 2020

I had just two more days to explore Red Rock Canyon and the weather was ripe for climbing. Unfortunately, I saw a message from the person I was scheduled to partner with: she had to bail, leaving me on my own. It was too late to reliably find a partner online, so I decided to just wander around the most popular cliff with a guidebook. In the best case scenario, I’d find a an odd-numbered group willing to rope up with me. In the worst case scenario, I’d become more familiar with the crag.

I barely parked my car before a couple came over to me and enthusiastically asked what I was climbing. I told them my plan and they invited me to tag along and climb Physical Graffiti (5.6). As we walked over to the route, I tried to gauge their experience level, cautious about what I was getting myself into. I was thrown off by how warmly they pulled me in, given my personal conservative approach to climbing partners. I knew the route would be well below my abilities (Red Rock grading is soft and crack climbing is my jam), so I relaxed and played along.

We were moving slowly as a party of three, which was expected, but it was clear to me that I was vastly more experienced than they were combined. Despite them noting they had over a decade of climbing experience, I was very doubtful and assumed they included gym climbing and top-roping outside.

I switched into ‘guide mode’ and tried to control as much of the risk as possible without being overt or obnoxious. Most of this meant efficient rope management, but not entirely. At one point, my heart nearly leapt out of my chest at the top of the first pitch. The husband was well on his way leading the second pitch, while the wife and I stayed behind to belay while tethered to a quad anchor I built. I knew we would rappel off the top, and I wanted to keep the sling configured as a quad intact for the sake of convenience later. I asked the wife if she could not undo the knots when she cleaned the anchor when it was her turn to climb, explaining my logic. Eager to help and not understanding the obvious benefit of being anchored and equalized to two bolts, she said “You can take it now!” and began to unscrew the locking carabiner on the quad, which was tethering her to the wall. I instinctively yelled for her to stop. She was perplexed and said, “It’s no problem, I’ll just transfer my PAS to that bolt here!” I was stunned that it hadn’t dawned on her yet that the locking carabiner she was a second from opening was what was keeping her from plummeting to the ground. I tried to explain that we were standing on a thin, crowded ledge, wide enough for only our toes, but she replied that she felt safe making the move. I wasn’t sure what to make of this, since the she had spoken earlier about how risk averse she was after becoming a mother of two. I ended the conversation and just insisted she stay tethered in.

Smiles from the top of the pitch one

This was the stance where the story above took place.

I’m eager to get on the long crack of pitch two.

I was a bit jealous that I didn’t lead that next pitch :)

I had fun on the climb and I was grateful for them including me into their day. Both of them were delightful and extremely nice, but I was a bit fatigued with the idea of playing guide. I suggested we take a look at some problems in the Kraft boulders area, staying lower to the ground.

We went to the famous Plumbers Crack, an easy chimney that ascends 40 feet. We met Matt and Matthew, two boulderers on the road. After making it to the top, Matthew ended up falling the last 5 feet of the descent after a foothold broke. He was fine, just a bit bruised.

We moved on to another famous rock, the Monkey Bar. It was nearing sunset so we got in as many laps as we could.

Matthew was living out of a '87 Toyota Shasta, enjoying the freedom of the road.

Just before my trip came to a close, I messaged him asking if he wanted my extra food that went uneaten during my two weeks on the road. I liked that he was living out his dream after saving up for years working random jobs.
A few days after we met, he fell on his ankle and needed to take 6 weeks off of climbing. Reasons I don’t boulder ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Matt getting the last send in before dark

I made plans to climb with another person the next day. I politely turned down the couple’s offer to join them on a 6 pitch route.

Today’s partner hadn’t trad climbed before, so we climbed a sport route to keep it simple. After leading the first pitch, I set him up on a belay and he began to climb pitch two. He was within eyeshot of me at the top of the belay, and I could tell immediately that he was sloppy and unsure how to manage a simple lap coil. Once he called for me to climb and noted that I was on belay, I double checked, asking “I’m good to climb? You got me on the correct side of the belay device?” He was quiet, and then said, “Uh, do you mind if I use my gri-gri instead? I’m more comfortable that way.” I told him he should use whatever he was most comfortable with, and quietly wondered why I should ever need to say something so obvious.

Once I was on belay again, I confirmed once more and got an affirmative answer. I broke down the anchor and began climbing. I was at about the second bolt when he yelled, “Wait, wait, can you not climb for just a sec?” I cursed to myself, wondering if I was solo-ing unintentionally. I grabbed two opposing quickdraws and went in direct to the nearest bolt. I wasn’t sure what had happened, but after a few quiet minutes, we resumed climbing. I was careful and on edge, but treating this climb as if I was actually solo-ing. A similar scenario played out as I led the third pitch. “Wait, can you not climb for just a sec?” He made a rat’s nest of the rope again. I went in direct to a bolt and sent a quick text and photo to Leah, explaining the absurdity of my situation.

When we made it down to the ground, I turned down his offer for another climb, noting that I needed to head out. We didn’t acknowledge the sketchiness on the route, and began chatting with the with the climbing party nearby. He exchanged contact information in the hopes of partnering up with them on a future date. I later tipped them off that they should steer clear of him. With the next few hours, I decided to wander around the Kraft boulders, talking to the boulderers there.

Approaching people to take photos was extremely awkward for me, and something I wasn’t used to doing. I felt like I was the weird guy interrupting their focus and trying to force my way into a conversation. I knew I’d be more comfortable without my camera, but I saw an opportunity to work on something different.

All the climbers I chatted with were open to the idea of being photographed and were excited to have me share my photos of them later.

Chris cutting feet on the Potato Chip boulder.

Colin (below) and I chatted, talking about the poor etiquette of climbers who didn’t respect the rule of waiting days after a rain storm to climb again. On long routes, this could be dangerous and fatal. On boulders, it more likely meant that essential holds on classic routes could be pulled off. Colin told me that a group of locals would come by and super-glue the pieces back, which both made sense and also seemed weird. Colin asked if I had a place to shower and offered his place, which was quite generous of him. I didn’t need it, but I was reminded of how lucky I am to be a part of a welcoming community of climbers.

I had about a full day to reflect on my trip before I boarded a flight back home. A few days of poor weather drastically changed the course of my plans for the entire two weeks. I was bummed that I needed to pivot and adapt, but I’m proud of myself for finding a meaningful experience each day despite it all. I’m also grateful for the new friends I made and I hope we cross paths again. Although I was on my own throughout the two weeks, I’m glad I had Leah on the phone whenever I needed her to help me find perspective and make the most of the beautiful places I was in.