Annotated Bibliography of Six Additional Research Sources

McCurdy, Stephen A. "Epidemiology of Disaster - The Donner Party 
     (1846-1847)."  Western Journal of Medicine (April 1994):  338-342.

     This article, from the Western Journal of Medicine, takes a very different approach than the majority of my other cited sources.  Stephen McCurdy uses just five short pages to describe a breakdown of mortality in the Donner Party.  These mortality statistics focus mainly on gender, age groups, and the survival rate of those whom had present family or loved ones, and those that didn't.  Through statistics and graphs, it is made very clear that the strongest survivors were children, woman, and those who had family available in such a great time of need.  I found this article very helpful in understanding demographic response to such horrific events, and I now have an exciting new angle to investigate in my interview process.

Diamond, Jared.  "Living Through the Donner Party."  Discover Magazine (March
     1992):  100-107

     "Living Through the Donner Party" explores similar themes to the Western Journal of Medicine article I cited, and it explores those themes with even more depth.  Mr. Diamond displays similar statistics to that of Shephen McCurdy, but he adds a much more exploratory edge to the numbers.  In attempting to find out why women fared so much better than men on the journey, he points out the shortcomings of men in stressful situations, such as a tendency toward violence, as their possible downfall.  A man's high metabolic rate and lower body fat count is also considered as a culprit for a much quicker demise.  Even more striking, the non-family affiliated members of the group were all men, and almost every one of them died.  I believe that this article brings a very curious, yet well informed set of arguments to the table that will prove to be very helpful.    

Walker, Cameron.  "Donner Party" Hearth Yields Bones; DNA Analysis Planned."
     National Geographic (July 2004):  1-2.

     This National Geographic article's main focus is an in-field study on archeological elements left behind at the Donner camp near Alder Creek.  Cameron Walker explain the significance of finding a hearth from a fire in the vicinity of the spot suspected to be the location where the Donner Party spent that infamous winter. Scientists explain that evidence of cannibalism, or even a better understanding of day to day life at Alder Creek, could help us separate myth from the truth.  Walker explains that the archeologists found evidence, in the form of burnt remains of human bone, at the site of the hearth.  A study is to be conducted where scientist will attempt to match DNA from the remains with DNA from remaining Donner Party descendants.  I found this article helpful for placing something tangible at Alder Creek, but a follow-up article would be of absolute value.
 
Murphy, Virginia Reed.  "Across the Plains in the Donner Party: 1846-1847."
     Century Magazine (July 1891):  1-20

     "Across the Plains in the Donner Party" started as an actual journal from a member of the Donner Party, and that alone should give it merit as a valuable resource.  This set of journals is separated by date, and it is written in a very matter of fact type of fashion.  To be provided with a time line from a source present at the time gives this journal's dead pan delivery a personal touch.  An even more human touch is provided when Virginia opens up about events and remembers them through the eyes of a twelve year old child.  Virginia describes herself as fearful and her mother as frail, and those descriptions make the end results of the stronger woman and children surviving even more compelling.
    
Rosen, Daniel M.  "Log Entries for September, 1846."  2009.
     http://www.donnerpartydiary.com/SEP46.HTM (April 24, 2011).

     Though not a proven scholarly resource, Daniel M. Rosen's donnerpartydiary.com is quite a valuable commodity to have available.  This website works through an in-depth chronology of the Donner Party's journey using diary entries left behind by actual members of the party as sources.  The section of Rosen's story that I found most helpful was the one describing September 1846 and the crossing of the Great Salt Desert.  The hardships of crossing the desert seem to be a good prelude to events coming later in the story.  The journey had to be hard in previous sections, but the thirst, hunger, loss of time, and loss of resources described in this section could have been the very worst to happen in a lesser tale.  I feel reading this section of donnerpartydiaries has given me a few ideas on adding foreboding elements to my paper.

Weiser, Kathy.  "Old West Legends - The Donner Party Tragedy."  July 2010.     
     http://www.legendsofamerica.com/ca-donnerparty.html (April 23, 2011).

     Kathy Weiser gives a concise, four page explanation of the Donner Party and their exploits.  Though legendsofamerica.com doesn't provide me with too many new angles for research, this article does provide me with a nice template for a research paper.  Though I do plan on ending up with a lengthier final product, a summary such as this one gives me a good idea of where certain fatty aspects of the story could be trimmed down.  One idea this article has helped me remain interested in is where to point the finger of blame.  Was Lansford W. Hastings and his false route to blame, or was it James Donner's refusal of advice from his friend James Clyman that did the party in?  This is a theme that I intend to explore more in my interview process.

Annotated Bibliography of Four Research Sources

McNeese, Tim.  The Donner Party: A Doomed Journey.  New York: Chelsea
     House (2009): 20-27.

This section of "A Doomed Journey" highlights the basics perks to an exodus to the west and the shift of movement from Oregon toward California.  McNeese explains the initial Oregon boom and the fear of the road to California being too difficult.  He then reveals that the route to California had been improved and traveled upon, and future emigrant interest in the new route began to rise.  McNeese then introduces us to Lansford W. Hastings, the author of "The Emigrants' Guide to Oregon and California," a confident man who had an idea for an alternate route to California that he had not already traveled.  This author did a very good job setting up both the excitement of western movement and planting the seed for ultimate demise.

Stewart, George R.  Ordeal By Hunger: The Story of the Donner Party. New
     York: Houghton Mifflin (1988): 31-39

This chapter of Stewart's book, entitled "The Wahsatch," describes the hardships of the Hastings Cutoff.  Stewart does a great job describing the difficult and slow paced chore that the Cutoff turned out to be.  The author describes narrow canyons, thick brush, enormous boulders blocking the path, and lost oxen, wagons, and party members.  The chapter shows the party go from jovial emigrants to a tired pack of lost soul with nothing but contentment for their mentor.  Most importantly are the themes of crucial time lost.  With the loss of ground gained a pace of only a mile and a half a day, the Hastings Cutoff may have been the leading factor in the eventual doom of the Donner Party.

Limburg, Peter R.  Deceived: The Story of the Donner Party.  Pacifica,
     California: International Publishing Services (1998): 111-119.

Limburg paints a picture of a party separated in the chapter appropriately named "Snowbound."  Only mere hours too late for a safe passage between two mountains the Donners meet the biggest challenge of the journey up to that point.  The party finds themselves in a storm that could have been avoided without all the previous lost time in their expedition.   The group is split into two camps, one who made it over the pass to a lake with a cabin, and the other who was trapped just below the pass with only the supplies they had brought along and clothes on their backs.  Limburg does seem to stress the point that cabin or no, the families would be stuck in their respective camps all winter, due to the extremity of the storm experienced.

Rarick, Ethan.  Desperate Passage:  The Donner Party's Perilous Journey
     West.  New York:  Oxford University Press (2008):  190-196.

Rarick seems to explore more into the horror element of the story than the more historically focused works cited.  I find this important, though, seeing as this is the highlight of the legend for most readers.  In this chapter "Gruesome Sights" a scene is described where a rescue crew from California stumbles upon an unexpected sight.  The author describes, in horrific detail, that the group of rescuers was forced to bear witness to families driven to cannibalism.  Most notably Rarick describes the events of children devouring the flesh of their own parent, and how that was the reason more children survived the situation than any adult group.  Only one family is said not to have engaged in the act, and this only adds to the intrigue of the underlying evil versus necessity argument.
   

More fun with logical fallacies!

     Above I have posted three short editorial comics.  Each of the three illustrations contain a separate type of logical fallacy.  I chose these three examples, in particular, because they each seem to present a fallacy in a very raw form.
     The first comic shows a man with a suit and a briefcase choosing between two doors.  One door is labeled "fulfillment without wealth," and the other is labeled "wealth without fulfillment."  This classic scenario is a  prime example of a false dilemma.  If the man chooses one door he will be rich, but somewhat empty inside.  If he chooses the other door, he will be poor, but happy.  Who is to say a man can't be both rich and happy?  The man is handed two choices here, but he should really have a choice between at least four doors.
     The second example shows a penguin thinking to himself, "Penguins are black and white.  Some old TV shows are black and white.  Therefore, some penguins are old TV shows."  The penguin's thoughts are begging the question.  He finds his conclusion through his own assumption.  He is black and white, so if something else is black and white, maybe he is something else.
     The last example, is a comic strip showing a man being addressed for stealing off a store shelf by an employee of the store.  When told what he is doing is wrong, the thief replies, "So what?  They steal in baseball all the time.  If it's ok for baseball players to steal, logically it's ok for me to steal too."  This is an example of equivocation.  Stealing is not a crime in baseball, but stealing merchandise from a store is.  Even though the same word is used in both arguments, it is given a different connotation, which can be misleading.

Research Paper Brainstorming

Ideas:

     1. Pacific Crest Trail
     2. Prohibition
     3. Birth of Hip Hop
     4. Founding of The National Park Service
     5. The Donner Party
     6. Yellowstone Super Volcano
     7. Carlsbad Caverns
     8. First Ascent of Mt. Everest

Idea: Prohibition

Questions:
     What events occurred in order for the government to make Prohibition a law?
     What were the negative and positive results?
     How did speakeasies operate?
     What eventually led to Prohibition being repealed?

Idea: Founding of The National Park Service

Questions:
     Who are considered the founding fathers of the National Park Service?
     What areas were being threatened before the Park Service formed?
     What wildlife was being threatened before the Park Service formed?
     What was the first National Park?

Idea: The Donner Party

Questions:
     Who exactly was the Donner Party?
     What caused their expedition to go awry?
     Did they actually turn to cannibalism?
     What evidence has been found to support this claim?

Idea: Carlsbad Caverns

Questions:

     How did the caverns form?
     Who were the first humans to explore the caverns?
     What is the significance of the bat population in the park?
     Why are Carlsbad Caverns and Guadalupe Mountains not a single park?

Idea: First Ascent of Mt. Everest

Questions:
     Who was the first to summit the worlds biggest mountain?
     What cultural significance did this event have?
     Was the ascent assisted by Sherpa or provided oxygen?
     How long before the second attempt?

Response to logical fallacies expressed in Daily Show clip

dailyshow.immigrant-disease

     The Daily Show's staff of writers are experts at pointing out logical fallacies in political media.  Naturally, when facing a topic as controversial as illegal immigration, they are working with a wide array of potential firepower.
     The first comedic jab, through the use of logical fallacies, is when the guest is introduced as a "resident expert."  When the commentator, John Hodgman, is presented as a leading authority in the field of immigration, he cites his own work, "My Grandparents Were Slav Or Something," as proof of his authority.  This is a glaring example of a logical fallacy appealing to an authority that may not be an expert at all.  If the man is not certain of his own past involving immigration, then what makes him an authority in the first place?
     The next fallacy presented in this clip, is a clear argument for ignorance.  After shooting to clips of other false authorities on the subject, who are all in agreement that immigrants are re-introducing older problems with disease to the United States, Hodgman vomits the bold claim, "Illegal aliens have tuberculosis and leprocy!"  Since there has been no opposing argument or physical proof presented to Hodgman contrary to his view of the subject,  he feels warranted in blurting out such a strong statement.  Just because something is not proven false, doesn't mean it is true.
     After Hodgman makes this statement, the satirist takes his argument further and further down a slippery slope.  When evidence is finally produced, taming the numbers and figures presented by our so-called experts, they begin to introduce scare tactics.  Suddenly, immigrants are no longer just diseased. They are gang members, drunk drivers, drug addicts, and rapists.  None of these claims are warranted as hard evidence.  We are expected to believe that even if we are not effected by disease, we may still, for some reason, be in danger.
     Logical fallacies are everywhere in today's media.  We are lucky to have comedians, such as Jon Stewart or John Hodgman, to keep us on our toes and able to point out these untruths.

Research on controversies surrounding Park51

stanford.edu
gulfnews.com
time.com
globalresearch.ca

Park51 (Cordoba Center)

This Stanford University article is the one that seems to dig the deepest to find the root of the controversy.  This article contains insight into the fact that the root of this debate may lie in the original name of the project, The Cordoba House.   Muslim influence is explained to have been at an all-time high during this period. Although Christians and Jews lived side by side with Muslims at this time, there were certain regulations that place the outsider lower in society.  In making reference to a time that Muslims were considered a higher caste of citizens than other religions, the project's creators seem to have placed a target on their own heads.  I found the history provided here very helpful, and the lack of political bias refreshing.

Roots of American rage over Park 51

The second article puts the blame on the growing separation of understanding between the general American and Islam cultures.  It explains that we, as Americans, have gained a general distrust in Muslims.  Close to half of the United States population is cited as saying that the civil liberties of Muslims in the United States of America should be limited.  It is assumed that our view of Islam versus Islamic extremism has been substantially blurred.  An important point about avoiding generalization is made here, and I feel that making an educated assumption about this subject should be made while avoiding outside politics.

Ground Zero: Exaggerating the Jihadist Threat

The third article presented makes less of a point about the general growing fear of Islam and focuses more on the idea behind the building's particular placing.  We may not be anti-Muslim as a nation, but we do agree that placing a worship center of this persuasion on this particular lot is disrespectful.  A point is made to differentiate the center from simply a place of worship by boasting the presence of a "swimming pool, basketball court, auditorium, library, day-care facility, restaurant and cooking school."  I enjoy the educated approach taken in this article.  It seems to remain neutral, while still citing material from either side.

The Muslim Mosque at Ground Zero and Freedom of Religion in America

The last article is very overblown, but it seems to come down to the simplest explanation in its purest form.  This article leans on the United States Constitution. We, as Americans, are guaranteed the right to freedom of religion.  Regardless of your individual background as a citizen, our rights are quite precious. Why should you not lean on them?  The point of this one is, regardless of your view of Islam, Islamic Americans have the right to worship where and whenever they want.  My main gripe with article was how parties were labeled in a non-partisan review.  A point could stand out more without label given this kind of argument.

Reflection on two opposing articles about assisted suicide

     I remember hearing about him as a child.  He was truly a paradox of a man.  On one side of the coin he wore a white coat and a stethescope.  If you flipped the coin over the man held a fatal needle over a dying patient.  A doctor who killed people.  Who had heard of such a thing?  The only thing cementing him as an evil mastermind was a true wildcard, though.  The people he killed wanted to die.   Some people called him a monster, some called him a saint, but the name they all seemed to agreed on was Kevorkian.
     I can't remember feeling any certain way about the doctor at the time.  I was a child born in Oklahoma who was growing up in Texas.  I had people like Timothy McVeigh and David Koresh to worry about.  Still to this day, I have yet to make a desicion for or against assisted suicide.  Somehow, though, the subject has entered my life again.  It is now becoming a hot topic in Montana.
    To look at this controversial topic fairly, I have located two editorials online.  These opposing articles are very different in many ways, and are linked below for easy reference.

Pro Assisted Suicide
We have a right to choose our end

Anti Assisted Suicide
Physician-assisted suicide: a recipe for elder abuse and the illusion of personal choice

     Our first editorial is coined by Gary Bauslaugh and is titled "We have a right to chose our end."  This particular article is short and to the point.  It starts by generalizing the views of Canadians as being almost unanimously for assisted suicide.  Bauslaugh delivers his ideas as a collective Canadian audience called "We."    He makes a statement suggesting that there is nothing wrong with wanting to live a long life, but he quickly counters with strong words about the forbidding opposition.  Mr. Bauslaugh paints a picture of a disabled man relieved of his ailments by assisted suicide as a painless thing, and calls the alternative "grisly" and "disturbing."  The views of the author in this editorial are clear, but the lack of evidence and force-fed bias do little to win over the undecided reader.
     The second editorial "Physician-assisted suicide: a recipe for elder abuse and the illusion of personal choice" by Alex Schadenberg offers a very different approach to the subject.  Instead of bombarding the reader with bias right off the bat, it allows information to slowly gather into an opinion.  This editorial is broken up into several sections,and each of these sections borrow from cited works about the subject.  This article rarely attempts to grab for pure human emotion, but when it does it is mostly effective.  One example would be a "terminal" patient that could have chosen a suicide solution when it was projected that she had only six months left to live.  She denied the solution, and upon trying the alternative, lived to see ten plus more years.  One of the main points of this anti-assisted suicide publishing is to make the reader aware of the possible abuse of the elderly.  In suggesting suicide as an easy way out to a person who does not believe they have much left to live for, a selfish person may be able to immorally benefit from that elderly person giving in.  The author seems to believe dignity belongs to a person regardless of age or disability, and assisted suicide may diminish that dignity.
     While I do not necessarily agree with the points given in the second selection, I do agree that the delivery has much more potential to impact a previously uninformed mind.  These two authors agree on almost nothing.    One editorial was based on pure passion, and the other was a belief formed from cited research.  While the later method may not be as fun to read, it is much more helpful in getting a basic point across.
       I am still a child at heart, and I have yet to come to a conclusion on what to believe about this issue.  One thing my inner child does relate to though, is telling me that you are right, can only make me want to prove you wrong.

Response to "How To Tell A War Story" excerpt from Tim O'Brien's "The Things They Carried"

     This excerpt started off with a very frantic, casual dialogue-type delivery.  It threw me off almost immediately, and reminded me of a rant fit for a character in a Scorsese or Tarantino movie.  Then the opening paragraphs were revealed to be mostly made up of a letter written by a second author, and the contrast in styles became very apparent.  Tim O'Brien's delivery is a very calculated and heavy handed.  As the piece unfolds, it weaves in and out of different war stories and what about them is or is not important or true.  All of these different war stories keep leading back to the one mentioned in the opening letter segment.
    I really started to become immersed in this narrative when the author tells the story of the men who must crouch quietly in the mountains and do nothing but listen for signs of the enemy.  When the men start to hear the strange party noises and music, the story started to reveal itself cinematically in my head.  I could see the character telling the story, and I could feel where the director might cut away and show visions of these fantastical things happening.  This war story really played with the concepts of truth and reality.  Was some of this story or any of this story true?  Did it matter?  What was the moral of this story?  Is that even important?  Whether the story was true or not, or just exaggerated,  doesn't take away from the power of the story.  If the story did truly take place, could the silence in a man's own head be enough to evoke all of these fantastic ideas?  Sure, why not.
     As far as moral issues go, the most obvious cross of the line might be seen in the slaughter of the buffalo.  It was a gruesome telling of the actions.  Was it necessary to murder an innocent animal?  Absolutely not.  Does it matter, though?  His friend was murdered.  Was that necessary?  Morals in war seem to have a very different connotation than the morals that are instilled in us as children.  When war is declared, the rules change.  The lines begin to blur.
     War is hell...or is it?

The old man is lonely.

The old man sat in a rocking chair on the porch of his old wooden home in the Everglades.  The stagnant smell of the swamp in the air was only matched by the bourbon on his breath.  The man picked up his banjo and attempted to tune the rusted strings.  As his fingers plucked expertly, a Great Blue Heron flew down and rested on the reeds near the old man's feet.  The bird seemed to listen intently for a couple minutes, and the old man cracked a smile.  This was his best audience in years.  Abruptly, one of the banjo's strings broke.  The clanging sound startled the heron, and he up and flew away.  The old man sighed and put down his banjo.  He stood up slowly, and walked inside of his home to a framed picture on his living room wall.  Tears welled up in his eyes as he remembered his estranged bride.

Letter regarding missed class

Dear Conrad,
     I apologize for missing last night's class.  I understand that our class only meets bi-weekly at best, but some situations are dire enough not to need explanation.  If I feel comfortable with disclosing the reasons in better detail in the future i will.  I hope you can understand the lack of detail in my response, but at this point it is necessary.
     Thank you for understanding,
                                          Joshua

Bob,
   I had had the best day.  I met a really cool hippy chick at the Whitefish Farmer's Market the other day, and I randomly ran into her again at the brewery today.  We had a couple beers, and we had such a good time that I forgot to go to class.  it was worth it, though, I got her number!
    Josh

Dialouge Exercise

      Tanya and Dean shuffled their feet slowly while returning home from a punk rock show in downtown Cincinatti.  It was after three in the morning, and all of the moshing and slam dancing had left Tanya famished.
     "Let us go out to breakfast,"Tanya proclaimed hungrily,"How much money do you have?"
     "Let me look," Dean dug his stubby fingers into the deep pockets of his blue jeans. The sound of jangling change echoed loudly as he pulled his hands from his pockets, "I have got about thirty-five cents."
     "Thirty-five cents?!"Tanya exclaimed angrily while quietly wondering why she had ever dated Dean in the first place.
    

Have you ever been charged by a bear?

Everyone had been talking about it.  The Skyline Experience.  It was one of the essential off trail routes in Glacier National Park.  Twenty miles or so.  Three peaks.  Not much technical climbing, but very intense nonetheless.  It seemed groups were going up almost every day and coming home with stories about how amazing the trek was.  I wanted a part of it.  One day I was approached by a couple of guys I worked with at Many Glacier Hotel asking if I wanted to give the route a try.  I hadn’t hiked with any of the guys before, but one of them, Jake, had done it before so I told them I was in.  I later ran the idea by my girlfriend, Kelly, that if she wanted to come along she could.  She is a very strong hiker and a tough person in general, so I knew she could handle such a long day.  We had both hiked up many mountains in the park together, but mostly on trail to fire lookouts.  After a few days she decided she would come along.  On the morning of the hike we were all supposed to meet in the employee dining room just before sunrise.  It was getting late in the season so we knew we were going to have to fight to get home before sunset.  After a quick trip to the car for a can of bearspray we headed to the EDR.  My girlfriend pointed out that we only had one can of spray for three people, but I, of course, assured her we would be just fine.  I had avoided so many bear confrontations that summer anyway.  Upon arriving at the EDR we found out quickly our potential group of five or six had dwindled down to just three: my girlfriend, Jake, and myself.  We loaded up on water and free EDR food and headed towards the Cracker Lake trail.  The Cracker Trail is very popular with tourists, but not so much employees.  The destination is breathtaking, but the trail is under heavy tree cover and, even worse, it is a shared horse trail.  This means more often than not a very muddy and smelly hike.  Luckily it was quite a nice morning on the trail, and we were making very good time.  It seemed like no time before Jake announced, “Last chance to fill up on water here.  We’re going off trail.”  We climbed up slippery boulders for a couple of minutes before deciding to cut left into the trees.  It was a pretty easy bushwack.  There were no major scrapes or bruises even in shorts and a t-shirt.  We must’ve gained a good amount of elevation in the trees, because soon enough we were above treeline.  At this point I began to feel the after effects of the previous night’s drinks.  We were climbing hand and foot over rock scree and I was quickly becoming the slowest member of the group.  As we neared eight thousand feet or so I had begun to sweat so hard that in no time I could move pretty quickly again.  This made the final stretch to the summit of Mt. Wynn much more pleasant.  It was a very warm ascent,  but the summit was desert-like and wind swept so on came the jackets.  The three of us stopped for a quick snack and admired the views of Lake Sherburne and the miles and miles of flat terrain stretching eastward across the Blackfoot Reservation.  From here the route was a long exposed ridgeline leading on the next summit, Cracker Peak.  Nearing the summit of the reddish Cracker Peak was the most technical part.  We experienced mostly class three and a couple class four moves with some pretty serious exposure.  It was more than four thousand feet directly down to Cracker Lake and we were depending on handholds and footholds to keep us from going swimming.  Once on Cracker’s summit we took another break to fuel up and calm the nerves.  Then on to the final push.  Mt Siyeh.  One of only six ten thousand foot peaks in the Park.  In all truth we had done most of the hard work to that point already so the final push ended up being quite pleasant.  When we reached the summit the view was unmatched.  Grinnel Glacier, Jackson Glacier, all five of the other ten thousand foot peaks were viewable from the top as well as a nice view into southern Canada.  After we rested on top for thirty minutes and took a couple of pictures it was time to head home.  We chose to return home via the Piegan Pass trail which should have made for a pretty easy return.  My companions and I walked down large scree fields attempting to connect ourselves to the Piegan Pass trail.  We were thrown off track though when I noticed a lone male grizzly bear who seemed interested in us in the distance.  There were many areas where my girlfriend and I were getting cliffed out so it took us much longer to reach the trail than we had planned on.  Jake must’ve known the terrain much better than we did, because before we realized it he was gone.  The cliffing out continued, and our happy day rapidly turned into a sour one.  We were having difficulty descending and to make matters worse our guide was nowhere to be seen.  This ordeal stretched over a few hours.  We kept screaming out Jake’s name…but no reply.  Finally we could see where the Cataract drainage met the trail, and we knew we were getting close.  We screamed for Jake again, and finally we heard a reply.  Once I spotted him we rush down to meet him.  I didn’t know whether to hug him or hit him.  It was good to see him, but he left us alone on the mountain!  I was quickly calmed down when Jake explained that he had run out of water and he had no filter on him.  He was famished!  So we filtered him some water from a nearby stream.  At this point we all felt much better, but it was getting very dark and we still had five or six miles ahead of us.  It was time to head home.  The three of us began conversing loudly about our experiences away from each other, and all seemed well again.  Jake pointed out to me a small grizzly cub he saw in the distance, and we both looked at it from a safe distance.  Kelly didn’t seem to notice the bear at all.  It was then that we heard the oddest of noises.  A very loud HUFF HUFF HUFF HUFF!  I looked up to see what the noise was and witnessed the most terrifying thing I have ever seen.  It was a large female grizzly, drooling, huffing, and running straight toward us at full speed.  I have been bluff charged by bears before, but this was different.  It wasn’t a test.  There was something different in it’s eyes.  This bear wanted to murder us.  It wanted us dead.  All the things I had been trained to do in this situation vanished from my brain.  There was only one can of bearspray between the three of us, and Kelly had it.  She picked it up and pointed it at the bear.  Her hand was shaking and the look in her eyes was blank.  She wanted to spray the bear, but not yet.  It wasn’t close enough.    Jake, not knowing her well, put his hands over Kelly’s and forced the can to spray.  The red-orange stream flew from the can and hit the mother bear.  The grizzly only stopped momentarily and let out a painful huff, then she continued toward us.  At this point we all linked arms and at no further than twenty feet away released almost the entire remainder of the bearspray canister.   You could tell this really hurt the bear.  She huffed and puffed and sneezed and seemed to think about whether or not she should attempt to approach us again.  After a few seconds she mustered up one last front, but this time she was much slower and obviously in a great deal of pain.  This attack ended when the mother bear realized she didn’t have it in her.  She turned and started to stumble back toward her cub.  Terrified we realized we could no longer follow the trail.  It was too close to the grizzly family.  We attempted to head back to the base of Mt. Siyeh and bushwack home from there, but before long we noticed three or four more bears in the distance.    So tired of bears!  At that point in the day I was done with bears.  I never wanted to see the wretched creature again!  So we decided to head directly through the middle of the two groups of bears until we were far enough away from them to rejoin the trail.  When the trail was finally spotted we turned on our headlamps and started screaming “hey Bear!” at the top of our lungs.  The shouting continued for several miles.  We hiked harder and faster than ever, but still the final few miles of the trip seemed to be some of the longest moments of my life.  When our group returned to the employee dorms there was a crowd of people there on the steps.  They said they could hear our screams for at least thirty minutes prior to arriving back at the dorms.  Our story spread through the night, and when the next morning came another group headed off to tackle the trek.   Bear or not, the Skyline Experience is just that…an experience.  An experience everyone wants to be a part of and one I will never forget.

Have you ever lost a finger at a funeral?

It was a very sad day.  My uncle’s funeral.  He was a man that meant the world to many people.  He was a doctor, and a damn good one at that.  He was a strong christian who loved the guitar, the outdoors, and most of all his family.  He taught me so much in such a short amount of time.  His love for the outdoors, though it took something as tragic as his death for me to appreciate it, was embedded deeply in me.  I still to this day find peace in the most wild of places, and I have him to thank.   His life came to an end tragically and abruptly while doing something as mundane as checking the mail.  When he crossed the street headed toward the mailbox he was hit at an alarming speed many miles above the limit.  When it came time for the funeral they were unsure whether or not an open casket should even be considered.  On that day the parking lot of the church looked like that of a rock concert.  It was jam packed full, and everybody who’s life was touched by him wanted a seat in the arena.  I was too young to really comprehend exactly what death was, but I knew in life this guy was important.  I was remembering things that happened involving my uncle in life.  How much ketchup he put on his meatloaf.  How he loved the Eagles, how much I hated them, and our conversations surrounding the topic.  Most of all I remembered him dragging me up to the summit of Guadelupe Peak, the highest peak in Texas.  At nearly 9,000 feet it was a monster.  My hometown sat at about 200 feet above sea level, and I had never been on a hike.  It was a hot day…even for a Texas spring.  This was before the days of camelbacks so there was just one big canteen and my uncle, aunt, cousin, and I were all sharing it.  I kept begging for water, and he just kept mumbling “survival of the fittest” as a response.  I had no idea what that meant.  I was a kid!  Now I can appreciate such a strong Christian man referencing Darwin as quite an amusing moment.  The only part of that day I enjoyed at the time was drinking Tang at the summit, and marveling at the thousands of ladybug covering the plant life.  Still in the parking lot thinking I stepped out of the car. For some reason my little brother had opened the door for me.  We were never really cordial to each other, so this seemed very odd.  Once he came along everything I had to myself for all those years I had to share…why should I like him!?  Just as started to walk away I heard a slam and felt a wave of pain.  I let out a cry, but I still hadn’t looked yet.  I turned to look and that’s when I really lost it.  My finger was jammed directly in the locking mechanism in the car door.  I repeatedly cursed the Lord’s name right in his own parking lot.  My step dad was already half way across the parking lot, and as soon as he heard the blasphemous screams he ran back towards me.  He held the only key to unlock the door.  It seemed like ages, but finally I was free…and my hand was a bloody mess.  I ran towards the church restroom with my stepdad and brother running after me.  When I reached the restroom I turned the water on full blast to wash my hand off.  The blood just kept flowing, so I couldn’t really tell the full extent of the damage.  I grabbed  a bunch of paper towels, and covered my hand.  We went to see my mother inside to tell her what happened.  My mother, upon seeing the bloody paper towels told us to go straight to the emergency room.  Upon arriving at the emergency room my stepdad asked the receptionist to see a doctor.  The receptionist calmly told him to wait, and a doctor would be available shortly.  This angered me.  I walked right up to the receptionist, pulled the paper towel off of my hand, stuck it in her face, and said “I want to see a doctor now!”  Without hesitation she took me to see the doctor.  The doctor took my hand and stuffed it into a vat of brownish red liquid, and told me that it should help to clot the blood.  This process took quite a while the doctor noted, and once it finally started to work he uttered the phrase, “Uh-oh.  That’s no good.”  Always exactly what you want to hear from a doctor.  The bone was exposed almost completely and quite broken.  The skin was hanging ever so lightly by a thread.  The doctor then loaded me up with shots: some in my finger, some in my arm, and a couple right in the backside.   And boy…those really hurt.  The next part was hazy.  I just remember coming to and most of the fingers on my left hand we held together by gauze and a large metal splint.  All I could think was I’m going to be playing slide guitar for a while.  So I missed the funeral.  My finger ended up mending well.  I had two fingernails on top of one another for a few years, but they eventually became one.  I never really figured out whether or not my brother meant to slam the door on me or not, but I have come to terms with not knowing.  All I know is my uncle was a good man.  I may have not been able to witness his funeral first hand, but every time I smell fresh pine on the trail or hear a birds song coming from somewhere in the trees I have all the closure I need.

Have you ever helped rescue a friend from falling off a waterfall?

It was Summer Solstice just outside of Denali National Park in Alaska.  The longest day of the year in the land of the midnight sun.  Myself and my newfound gang of transient friends from everywhere and nowhere had been bonding over the amount of sun we were recieving.  It didn't matter what time of the day it was.  It was summertime, and we were in love.  We had been hearing through the grapevine about a place called Dragonfly Creek.  The creeks on Parks Highway were all marked aphabetically so we knew we could get there in not too much time.  So we packed up our bags with a little bit of camping gear and water and a whole lot of booze and stuck out our thumbs while walking toward Fairbanks.  In no time a small van stopped.  A man stepped out and asked us where we were headed. It seemed at once we all screamed Dragonfly Creek...and someone must've added "but we aren't quite sure where it's at."  The man luckily knew exactly where it was at and seemed to be very fond of the location.  So the ten or fifteen vagabond friends and myself all piled into the back of the small van bringing to mind a clown car to this day.  Before we knew it we were there.  The man even wanted to walk us down to a campsite he knew.  It was a  very steep but short trail that led us down into the trees.  There it was.  A perfect campsite.  The Nenana River was a short walk away  Such a powerful force. So silty it was almost mercury in color.  We headed back under the trees and set up camp.  The man bid us farwell and told us he might come back to visit if he was lucky.  At this point we all split up into small groups to explore the area.  Before I had explored at all I heard someone yell "WATERFAAALLL!"  Of course we all followed the voice.  And there it was.  Magnificent.  Fourty feet high or so.  Two tiers separated the falls.  One flow, a flat area, and then a twenty five foot drop or so.  My new roomate Adam was a worldclass climber and he seemed to see something different than the rest of us.  A great climbing route.  He and two others, Seth and Jeff, decided to climb.  The first part was easy.  More of a hike than a climb.  Once up on the flat area that separated the two tiers of the falls Adam walked the other two novices through a slightly technical move directly above the crashing waters.  One hand here.  One foot here.  And you're good.  Jeff goes, no problem.  Seth goes, no problem.  Adam lines up for the same move and the rock in his hand, the same rock the others held, collapsed.  Adam started to glide down the waters at an alarming rate.  There was a sickening gasp from the crowd.  He disapeared into the flat, middle part of the falls and it went silent.  Just then a bare foot came over the edge.  This was the end.  Our new friend was dead....but wait...he stopped.  One of us screamed for someone to get rope.  We knew we had it somewhere in our beerpacks.  While waiting for the rope we examined what had  happened.  As Adam was falling he realized parts of the fall were still frozen from winter.  Being the expert climber he was he saw a good handhold.  He had punched his fist into the ice and saved himself.  So we played the waiting game.  Someone finally arrived back at the falls...with a bit of twine.  Not the climbing rope we were hoping for.  We had to take action.  That ice wasn't going to hold for long.  So I climbed up to the exact spot of the incident, the broken rock, with Jeff's little brother Kelly.  We pulled a large branch from a tree.  Kelly stood in front extending the branch to Adam.  Once Adam had a hold of it I told Kelly to pull.  Adam was close to making it up, but not quite.  At that point I put my hands around Kelly's waist and said on the count of three I would fall flat backwards.  So here it was.  The moment of truth.  I jerked myself back and Kelly followed me.  We hit the ground hard, but it seemed we had pulled Adam close enough to extend a hand to him.  And that's what we did.  Pulled him right up.  Having a new friend almost die right in front of your eyes and preventing it from happening is one hell of a bonding experience.  We spent the rest of the night happily consuming the contents of the beerpacks and when midnight struck we turned our heads to the sky and howled at the sun.

Have you ever...

lost a finger at a funeral?

been charged by a bear?

helped rescue a friend falling from a waterfall?

been tossed from a moving car?

had your life threatend by a bum with a screwdriver?

drank a beer you brewed yourself?

gotten a tattoo first so your friend couldn't get it?

performed in front of a crowd of more than five hundred?

served a meal to a celebrity?

played a game of capture the flag in graveyard at night?

Google Docs Vs. Everything Else

Hello to all in my future blogosphere!  My name is Joshua, and it's quite nice to see you here following me through my progress as a new college student.  After nine years away from formal education I decided to start again with the basics, and a writing class seemed to be a logical extension of that idea.  I came fully prepared on my first day of class with a pad of paper and a number two pencil only to find out I'd spend most my time in front of a computer!  A few great discoveries have come out of this surprising experience very quickly, though.  All of these discoveries seem to bear the similar name of Google.  With Google Docs I can clean up the mess and clutter of traditional email.  Not only will Google Docs allow me to do away with messy attachments to friends and prospective employers, but it will practically save and organize the materials without my assistance.  The other big improvement on typical email services is the cloud system.  I now have a way to store documents that would be sitting somewhere on my desktop or in one of my folders all in one place as long as I have an internet connection.  Google Docs is my laptop away from my laptop, my home away from home.