Friday, 15 July 2011

Tuesday, 17 May 2011

  • Tim and Life Awesome Run Great Job


    Running the Grand Canyon, October 2010

    Dreaming is strange. You think it's reality, but it's not. Last night I had a bad dream about being stressed and lost in an airport and couldn't make things better. It was stressful, but ended abruptly when I quickly woke up and realized those problems I was having were not real. It occurred to me that death might be like that -- suddenly exiting from the trivial things we sometimes think are so important.

    Tim Ray, my good friend and running partner, passed away this week of a heart attack, aged 31. He died 36 hours after finishing a 50-mile ultramarathon, one of several ultras he had completed in the last year. The heart failure was presumably due to a pre-existing condition; two friends who are doctors and athletes suggest it was likely hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. This affects about 1 in 500 people and actually makes you a better athlete but more vulnerable to heart failure. Simply, he had an enlarged heart.

    His girlfriend Bethany felt fortunate that he died at home, by her side, instead of on the trail, and he died because he was doing something he loved, running. She seemed at peace to know that it would have happened at some point and was not caught up on the exact events leading up to his death.

    I was also signed up for that race, the PCT 50, but pulled out at the last minute with some tendonitis and exhaustion. But I did wish I could have run it with him, I was excited as we talked about the race beforehand, and again after he finished, incorporating lessons learned into our planning for future runs.

    I met Tim through the Triathlon Club of San Diego. He was wearing a UCSD jersey after a club race, and I approached him. He told me about the UCSD triathlon team and convinced me to join. Bethany likewise was very welcoming, one of the first people to talk to me at practice, after I joined as a bit of an outsider halfway through the season.

    The very day before his passing a few friends were having a discussion about the best athletes that we knew. I picked Tim. There is no question that Tim was a better athlete than me; his third place at the Solana Beach Tri (the two ahead and many behind him were professional racers while he was an amateur) last summer was just the most recent of his triathlon accomplishments. But even though he was better, and seemed to be able to push himself harder than me, he was still more relaxed about it and had more fun. Never letting on how bad he felt until I first did the same. How many times it is hard to count when I said "Can we ease up the pace a bit, I am starting to hurt" and he would respond "sure, I am glad you said that, I am working hard too." But he would never be the first to ask to let up.

    The man was insanely busy but never seemed overwhelmed; he was always in an encouraging mood and ready to discuss some interesting idea. He had incredibly strong standards, but didn't seem holier than thou, and certainly led by example, not by making others feel like they needed to do better.

    Tim was always humble, understating his goals and accomplishments and even his daily activities. Many times I'd be nearing the end of a run with him and instead of running home he'd run the other way at the end, only acknowledging after I'd asked that he was on the way to a swim or some other workout.

    When I told him I'd signed up for the La Jolla Rough Water Swim this fall he responded "Ben,  focus... running... just kidding. "
    But he was able to focus well himself, to juggle the many sports and research in ways that exhausted me enough to have to spend half the day sleeping. Always untagging photos of long runs on Facebook or downplaying accomplishments in conversation, he did athletics not for the praise of others but because he truly loved it and loved pushing himself.

    While athletics were the framework I knew him in, what I valued most in Tim was his great attitude in discussions. A critical thinker, but not a critic. Never negative, yet always striving to improve himself and the world. He was also very receptive. When he told me he was going to climb Mt. Whitney, I recommended John Muir's Mountaineers route to avoid the crowds on the trail; he seemed eager to do things like that, they made him more appreciative of the environment. I started an environmental discussion group based largely on what he was able to bring to the table.


    In the canyons below Torrey Pines (L); Environmental discussion group (R)

    On reading this Atlantic article I sent him about how college students were too willing to jump through hoops to please their professors- looking to say the "right answer" rather than stand up for their own opinions, he wrote  "Thanks - the article made me think a bit more positively about the "character building" forced upon me at Navy.  Ha!  It's interesting that the article is really written about us (more so than current students?), although the trend may have just continued with the current lot."

    But the setting for most of our interactions was running. Hour after hour, running or driving to a run. It was there that we were able to forge bonds and exchange ideas.  Tim and I first became good friends when I expressed an interest that seemed to resonate with him: to move out of triathlon and towards distance running. He seemed obsessed with the idea of running the Boston Marathon--though he more or less kept this a secret, it was obvious how he talked about it. Boston was a goal I did not share, but he was also equally stoked about joining my plan to train for and run the Grand Canyon across and back, 45 or so miles and 11,000' elevation gain. I think the challenge combined with nature are what sparked his interest, and I was impressed with his enthusiasm when he asked to join me in that lofty goal.

    On June 6 he wrote to me and the team I was putting together to run the Canyon: "A week ago I visited the Grand Canyon for the first time... WOAH!   The hike down to the Colorado and back on the Tanner Trail (from Lipan Point) gives me a lot of motivation for our R2R2R run in Nov. "

    Tim is extremely organized and disciplined. It was my idea to run across the Grand Canyon and back, but he was the one who did the research, made our planning doc on Google and lists of required things to bring, and set up the training plans.


    The Grand Canyon run: at a vista (L) and halfway done- on the north rim (R)

    The running of the Canyon was amazing. Tim was always very joyful, excited, but especially about the Grand Canyon, for a month after he had a huge smile on his face when we talked about it.  To understand, you'll really have to run it yourself. There's a reason it's #1 on the list of must-do trail runs in America. And approaching it with Tim's boyish enthusiasm and energy certainly will help you get the most from it.
    My trip report is here:

    He wrote on Oct 28, after the run: "I loved the report... it's almost embarassing when people ask me about the run because i can't help but get excited about the canyon.   you captured our prep, the realities of the run, and the excitement well.  "

    Aside from his personality, it was his sincerity that captured me. He felt strongly about activism, about letter writing campaigns and mourned that there seemed so few people willing to participate. After weeks of me plugging a certain cause in numerous annoying emails and repeatedly on Facebook, ultimately only a couple of my friends were willing to take the couple minutes to add themselves to the online petition (I checked the final list). One friend, of course, was Tim. For a cause he knew nothing about- saving KTRU- except for that I supported it passionately. That was all that was necessary.

    Tim's main cause was of course the environment. I already shared some of his values- like not eating meat for environmental sustainability reasons. But he infused in me other ideas, for instance that bananas are bad- shipped from too far a distance to justify buying. And plastic was one of the biggest nemeses, especially because it's so bad for the ocean, which he loved. One time Tim came over to meet me for a run and he had forgotten his water bottle. So I handed him a plastic gatorade water bottle, and he just looked at me and said "Ben. you know I don't do that." I told him "Tim, it's a reused bottle, and that's homemade gatorade." Which it was, and he took the bottle on our run. Luckily it wasn't the other two thirds of the time when I don't have those reused bottles and actually do have store-bought gatorade! But that time, at least, I looked good in Tim's eyes.

    Tim encouraged me to go up to Seattle for my first 100 mile run despite the environmental impact of the flight. I tried to make the environmental impacts of flying a strong consideration for my decisions, but maybe because he knew I wanted run that particular race so badly he said I should go ahead and do it anyway. I am still trying to really reflect this value that we needn't pollute the environment so much in order to do the things we love. Tim really advocated that daily, and especially by putting on green races for UCSD that generated only a couple pounds of trash for hundreds of participants. Race shirts and other goodies were just environmental damage and self-promotion.

    We talked about the slogan we both liked "no one cares you're a triathlete." Not because he didn't like triathlon--of course he did-- but because he disliked the commercialism on one side and ego on the other often prevalent in it. It was the testing of physical and mental limits that he loved in triathlon. That, coupled with that very pure, simple attitude, expressed in "Born to Run" led him to ultrarunning, where there is no glory, no sponsors, but lots of dedication. Dedication and loyalty were some of his greatest traits, among many. So while running was his worst of his triathlon sports (he was still as good as me at it- my best sport), the psychology of running long in the backcountry fit him well.

    The last time Tim and I went for a run, a night run in Torrey Pines as usual, he wanted to run farther than me so he started early. We had planned to meet up at a certain time that night, and I was ready a little earlier than that. Bethany had recently convinced him to run with a cellphone, so I was able to give him a call to ask him if he could meet with me sooner. He answered and said "Um, I'd really like to, but I'm a bit far away. I'm actually down at Blacks Beach. I thought I could run the whole beach but now it's high tide and I'm actually standing on a rock completely surrounded by water. So uh, maybe in half an hour?"

    After the extreme endorphines and jubilation from the Grand Canyon, we wanted more running. Our biggest running goal in the past year has centered on running the Leadville 100 ultramarathon in under 24 hours. A few days before Leadville registration opened, I had sent Tim a training plan that would get someone ready for Leadville in a year. I was committed but I didn't yet know about Tim. He wrote:

    "Ben,  you are HOOKED.  i love it!!  thanks for giving me something to think about..."

    A couple days later, November 4, the day Leadville registration opened, I registered, but I thought Tim might wait until making up his mind. I was wrong, as I received this email just hours after registration opened:

    "Ben,
    My number one athletic goal for the summer is to swim the San Diego county coastline in 4 days.  This requires some logistics and stuff, I don't think it's been done yet (but I could be mistaken).  it's approx 100 miles.
    But because I'll be racing Boston and I'll already have some running endurance and if all it means is some more long runs in the woods in the early summer I suppose I could be ready for Leadville without having to too many other ultras.  I'm assuming that the vibe there is awesome.  I'm registered.  But I'm not ready to tell Bethany...  " (boldface is his own)

    Of course he told her soon, and she was supportive as always, planning his acclimation and training runs as trips together. She was there for his last ultra race, surprising him at the halfway point. He was happy, as he always was- not letting on how hard he was working. But is it working hard if you're having that much fun?

    Goodbye Tim, I will keep training so I can keep up with you in Heaven.

     
    Montezuma Castle National Monument (L), After Avalon 50-Mile ultramarathon on Catalina Island (R)

    More photos of Tim on our adventures are here:
    Trip report from our Catalina Island ultramarathon here:

    "To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the Gift." - Steve Prefontaine

    The sun has already set. But anyone who lives in La Jolla knows that the afterglow is often better than the sunset.

    Sunset over the Grand Canyon after our run

Friday, 29 April 2011

  • Guantana-juato



    Central Mexico: hot, dusty and dry. Especially hot. It was our destination of choice for my 11th Mexican trip, and Ameliorator's first (just days before her 30th birthday, despite living 3/4 of her life in Texas and San Diego!!!).

    We visited Guadalajara, Dolores Hidalgo, and San Miguel de Allende in the province of Guanajuato. Not exactly household names like Cabo or Cancun. But those 3 towns are, in order, the second biggest city in the country, the epicenter of the Mexican Revolution, and the center of Mexico's Holy Week (Semana Santa) celebrations.


    The city of Guadalajara.

    This last was the main destination for our trip, which was initiated by Ameliorator's wanting to visit a Rice friend (Katrination) before Katrination gets married next week. Katrination is in the Foreign Service in Guadalajara and her fiance David is a photojournalist in Mexico. The two of them have lived in Latin America for years, and advised us that San Miguel would be the place to be for Semana Santa.


    San Miguel de Allende by day and night

    They picked us up at the airport Thursday in Guadalajara and we drove straight to make it to San Miguel for Semana Santa. The entire town of San Miguel is recognized as a heritage site and there are no modern buildings. All the streets are cobblestone, and the central church (San Miguel the Archangel)--though a couple hundred years old-- looks like it was designed by Gaudi in the 20th century with layers of sharp spires. San Miguel was clearly a pilgrimage site for Good Friday, with big crowds and a fair-like atmosphere in the main plaza.
     
    Jesus Statue, Pilate, Barabbas (l) and a thief crucified with Jesus (r)

    We arrived early to have a good spot to watch the midday procession, which began with Pilate's condemnation of a statue of Jesus in the courtyard of the church. Parishioners were dressed as Roman guards and other characters but no one dressed as Jesus. During the procession, the priest did carry a cross, as did others. Many people wore crowns of thorns and carried skulls, but actual representations were limited to statues on floats. A town band followed the procession.  After a break for market shopping, we went to a Good Friday service. People sang more enthusiastically than in your average American service, but it was otherwise the same. Catholic Good Friday: ten times "let us kneel, let us stand."

    One of Many Jesuses in the First Procession

    A second procession-supposedly Jesus' Funeral procession- left from the Oratorio, another church, in the evening. This one had a lot less local flavor: not as many props, and mostly people dressed to the nines- way more formal. It was also much longer, several hours. People walked very slowly to a sparse drumbeat in an otherwise totally quiet and somber procession. When the people at the front of the procession walked several  (8 or so) blocks in a circle to get back to the church, the tail end of the procession still hadn't fully left the church yet (1:45 later). It was hard to believe that the little kids in the procession walked that slowly for so long.


    The second Funeral procession in the evening

    We estimated there were close to 1,000 people in the procession -- from little girls in white dresses to middle-aged men dressed as guards -- any many more people watching. All adults aside from the Roman guards were dressed as if at a funeral procession- women in black dresses and men in suits. There were many floats, like in the morning, with elaborate flower decorations surrounding statues of saints and angels.

    Unfortunately, expats were poorly represented by a tipsy German woman who walked in the middle of the procession and fought with the security guards. There was also a loud British woman exclaiming that it was a religious event and people should be quiet.

    Holy Saturday meant the Easter vigil. Things got going after 10pm. For this we went to yet another church in San Miguel de Allende, this one outside of the center. The mass was held outside and it flowed into and filled the square. There were tons of kids, notably ones chasing each other in the fountain that we were using as a bench. Because the mass was outside, it was not as dark during the first reading as it would normally be. Everyone bought their Easter candles on the way into the mass -- I picked a medium-sized one for 20 pesos. When time came for the lighting of the candles, people waved balloons and flags and there was a huge fireworks show. It was worth the price of the flight ticket just for this scene. The hallelujah lasted for at least ten minutes and a Jesus statue was paraded around, including strobe lights at his feet.
     

    At Easter Vigil Mass, candle and a paraded, strobe lighted Jesus statue.

    During the day Saturday we made a trip to nearby Dolores Hidalgo, the birthplace of the Mexican Revolution. It was there that Miguel Hidalgo, a priest, declared Mexican independence on the steps of the town's main church. We stood in that same spot and then visited a Mexican history museum that focused on the plight of the indigenous people and very much condemned the conquistadores. The tone was quite dark, which is consistent with my overall impression of Mexican culture (eg skeletons, Frida Kahlo and disturbing Mexican art which is probably influenced by Spanish art). The whole time we tried to figure out what the eagle and snake on the Mexican flag represented but the museum didn't say and nobody we asked seemed to know. We didn't find out until I looked it up on Wikipedia at the end of the trip.


    Dolores Hidalgo, the church where the Mexican Revolution started; Art about the Revolution

    Mexico is a notable food destination. There are many types of bizarre street foods available -- we ate fresas con crema: ridiculous amounts of sugar and cream piled on fresh strawberries; ice cream in highly unusual flavors like beer and avocado (flavors we didn't try included shrimp, tequila and mole); tejuina con nieve, a corn-based grain drink with brown sugar (similar, but not quite as good as, Kyrgyzstan's Shoro drink); and corn with your choice of chili, lime, salt, cream and cheese. Another favorite was fruit with tajin, a spicy powder thats like a staple there. We also ate at many good restaurants, thanks to the research of our foodie friends -- for Katrination's birthday we had beet empanadas, chile rellenos and mushroom enmoladas -- all vegetarian.


    Street Food!

    I helped the driver (David) navigate on the way back to guadalajara, and Mexico roads are horrifically marked. Even with a GPS. But I will say, Central Mexicans are very friendly, the food is good, and the culture is very rich. And sunsets in hazy skies are often incredible...



Wednesday, 02 March 2011

  • Swing down sweet snowstorms and Let Me Ride…


    San G summit (l); Mt Baldy Summit (r) with San G and San J far in the distance.

    Dr Dre wrote Let Me Ride in SoCal. 2x Olympic snowboard gold medalist Shaun White is from San Diego. Riding the slopes is a SoCal establishment and there is the really excellent mountain riding here... But you have to time it right. Our mountains are big and steep, but the snow only stays a little while after the storm, so you got to take full advantage. It doesn't rain much here, which also means rare snows in the mountains. SoCal’s mountains are not world famous, but they are certainly respectable, including 2 of the 7 most prominent peaks in the continental USA.  (See my post here for more details on the peaks)

    I just completed summit descents of SoCal’s big 3 range highpoints: San Gorgonio, San Jacinto, and Baldy. Timing of the summits was essential; here are my chronicles of Gnar-nia...
     
    The smallest but most trodden of the SoCal giants is Mt Baldy (10,000’), mostly because it’s right outside of Los Angeles. The San Gabriel range’s high point, it’s also the most famous ski mountain in Socal. It has a commercial resort, as well as a well known 2000’ backcountry bowl that steepens to around 45 degrees near the top. It’s the west’s almost exact equivalent of Tuckerman ravine, albeit only in a good snow year.  Baldy Bowl, as its called, even has a Sierra Club skiers hut.


    Baldy Bowl ascent in Feb; snow was not good enough for a riding descent.

    My first try of baldy bowl was this February with Mark, but a snow dearth following our December hammering meant the mountain hadn’t seen snow in more than a month. The snow was old hard and icy and the bowl didn’t even have full coverage- a heinous situation because there is no runout after the slope- just rocks, looming below hard packed dirty snow. Good hiking conditions meant it was still a fun and beautiful (and fast) summit and return to car in 4:30, but we elected to not snowboard down in such conditions. I’d have to wait for more snow. It’d be safer and a lot more fun.  Such a scenario illustrates the necessity of good timing for SoCal backcountry.
    Baldy bowl before and after this last storm.


    Climbing baldy bowl again, this time in deep snow.

    Then, late February received two consecutive big storms. These dumped 3 more feet of snow and early March was looking good for Baldy Bowl. This time I went with Dallas, and the snow slowed our ascent substantially. But there was full coverage, end even though we were day 3 after the storm, there was a ton of virgin snow in the bowl. The summit to the bowl’s lip was a quick fun warmup, then the 40-degree drop into the bowl and a 3-minute ride to the bottom with perfect s-turns in nice corn.  5 stars out of 5. However the lower mountain was already melting out and there were lot of bare patches. It’d be worth staying up at the cabin one weekend of a good storm and doing laps down different chutes in the bowl…but amazingly, only 3 days after the huge storm it was no good to ride lower than the bowl…

    Baldy Summit and initial descent


    Drop into Baldy bowl

    Baldy was this season’s second backcountry peak; San G was first. Like Last year I warmed up in bounds at Mountain high in December, then on to Dubai’s bizarre indoor mall resort (see here) before going out of bounds to shred the gnar.
     

    Getting to the summit of San G

    By January (going back in time now), it seemed like it was going to be another epic snow year in SoCal. Our first weekend back in the states I headed with Andre to San Gorgonio, high point of the deep San Bernardino range and indeed all of SoCal at 11,500.’  17 Miles round trip means it’s not a usual snowboard destination- too much of a hike-in.  But it does have steepness once you make the trek in.

    Andre skinned in on skis but I had to use snowshoes and carry my board.  The flat trail the first few miles has so-so coverage even recently after the storm, but that also means we made good time. After that we made about 1 mile an hour for the last few miles as the snow got deeper.


    San G descent (most photos of San G by Andre)

    The summit plateau was heinously icy and windy (as were the other faces- only the sun drenched south face was ride-able) and painful to proceed (and descend), but once off of the summit plateau riding was much fun. The upper mountain indeed gets steep enough- maybe 30 degrees or more, to have some very enjoyable riding. For several miles. we generally had several inches of windblown powder and corn.

    The first four miles of descent had good downhill, a bit of traversing and a few necessary step-outs. Eventually, for the last few flat and thinly covered miles I had to step out walk a lot. But still, when whenever the coverage returned to sufficient I put the board back on and shredded to the car, for a round trip time of 10 hours and exactly all of the daylight minutes.  While it seemed like it would be a big year, I’m lucky to seize on the chance to go then; in this La Nina year we didn’t see snow again till the end of February.  Andre, a professional photographer has lots of shots up here:

       
    North Face of San Jacinto. Very easy to see the snow creek couloir route there-from the summit (the left peak) just take the biggest snow path.

    San Jacinto Peak, sixth most prominent peak in the lower 48 and rising to 10,800’.  Monarch of its eponymous range, I had previously hiked it twice by different routes. But what makes San J special is its 10,000’ north face rising from the desert, making it one of the longest alpine climbs in North America. In winter, the snow creek couloir fills, and last winter the snow was so heavy crevasses 20-30 feet formed in the packed snow. Up to 50 degrees at the top, it would have been a very technical descent if it were not for the massive amounts of powder. Than meant a tough 22 hour ascent of the peak and a night on the summit but an epic 1- hour ride down the 6000' perfect couloir. Total trip time more than 40 hours. The global warming meant we were getting epic snows while the Northwest has weak snow last year. Skye flew in from Seattle expressly for the midwinter San J experience in Feb ‘10 and found all of his region's powder displaced to our mountains. The best ride of our lives; the full trip report is here:
     

    San J Summit, 11:45pm and the morning after (San G and Baldy both visible)


    Shredding San J's Snow Creek Couloir. Skye on Skis, the 2nd photo has the San Bernardino mtns in the background.

    Bonus heavy shreddin' TR’s:
    Skye and I, joined by Kostya, Dima, and others, last year went on to summit, then snowboard, Oregon’s famous Mt Hood in April ‘10. 5000’+ of descent on mostly good, single black diamond steepness. Only the top hundred feet were extremely gnar (4' wide icy couloir) and after that riding was awesome and easy on sun-warmed snow. Round trip in around 9 hours, I think less. That descent as well as all of last year's snowboard adventures is documented here (but that’s hardly SoCal now, is it?...back to the focus).


    Hood and descent

    The Pacific Crest Trail runs through the Laguna mountains, which contain San Diego county’s high point, Cuyamaca at 6500’. In a good snow year (like last season) there is enough snow on Cuyamaca to snowboard the fire road. 3 miles of a narrow green -or in the steepest places blue- allowed this to be my first backcountry experience. Luckily my friend Austin and his buddy Jake were snowshoeing that say and I met them on the summit. On the ride down  I was very scared and conservative (it was my first time in the backcountry), but it was so much better than being in-bounds! An hour hike up and a 15 minute ride down, and I was hooked on shredding the backcountry gnar. Total trip time car-to-car under 1:30.  Enough time left in the day to So for a surf back in La Jolla.



    For those who love the slopes and love the mountains but haven’t yet gotten into backcounty, I urge you to combine them and try it. There is little that is more fulfilling than climbing a peak then riding  back down, having “earned the turns.” Nowadays I think of resorts as training, like the climbing gym: more mileage per minute, more efficient, but not the reason I do the sport.


    Benefit of backcountry: sunset and Baldy seen from lower slopes of San G

    The price of backcountry: night out on San J Summit:

Friday, 25 February 2011

  • Not Easily Offended

     

    Dispelling our own misperceptions and ignorance- it's why we travel, right? There's an old cliche quote, paraphrased "Paris is a lovely city, except for those pesky French."  Take a look at my stereotyping and ignorant "before" blog in December, and you can see my hopes for the city were dim. Before setting foot in the city I considered bailing early for Chamonix or Belgium. I was, to put it mildly, unsure if I'd like the place. After hearing so many superlatives about romantic beautiful Paris I figures they were hype, completely ignored that possibility, and supposed it would be a tourist playground of plasticity, fashion, commerciality and sexuality. Even though I don’t generally like big cities, I really did happen to like Paris.

    And all those reputations aside, after actually going there I loved the French people, perhaps more even than their city. Maybe it had something to do with low expectations, but this place is great. I had no idea how amazing Paris is. That pesky quote is wrong. Turns out that unless you are as perceptive and smart as Kant, indeed, you have to travel places and find things out and see for yourself. That I'm continuing to learn that lesson after 50 countries is somewhat embarrassing...

    Two things essentially determined my love for the city's attitude. First, Laissez Faire. I guess the French invented this. They certainly named it. And the result is, nobody bothers you-no cops, no authority figures. No one takes rules seriously. So it's a wonderfully relaxing place, especially in contrast to post-Soviet travel!

    Secondly,  It is true that the French carry a reputation of rudeness and snobbery. But the flip side can be exploited: if people are used to others being rude, you can be rude back, and almost thought a local! If you're not offended by the social norms, you can also engage in them without offending...When people approached me and I had no idea what they were saying, I ignored them and it was to them a completely reasonably response! I've always been accused by my family of only lifting an eyebrow when I greet someone, of not being friendly enough. In France, I'm extra friendly with this gesture!

    I am quite serious about using these two French national conventions to my advantage. When a guy's dog chased me he apologized profusely and I blew him off. When people bothered me in the streets asking money (maybe?-i don't speak French) I could just ignore them and they seemed to think it was a valid response. I employed this tactic a handful of times and seemed to fit in like a local.

    My most successful usage of aloofness was at the Grand Mosque. An interesting social scene, but there was a clear division of Muslims and visitors. I of course posed like a Muslim, entered the Muslim-only prayer room and began to pray (as I often do), but after that I started getting a bit bolder. I decided to get the meal, a free carb-heavy offering served family-style in one of the side rooms of the courtyard. I had to wait in line for about 30 minutes but no one questioned me or bothered me, such is the French way. Sure, people bantered between themselves; I kept quiet and disconnected and observed. Yes, it seemed like someone tried to stop me as I went in but I pretended it was the guy next to me who was the issue and marched on. The result, an inside look and a sit-down meal with a very communal and social Islamic scene-a blend of the more friendly Arab world and the outwardly colder French culture. If you don't risk getting kicked out, you're not pushing enough boundaries.


    Grand Mosque of Paris

    The emphasis on the French language is a common complaint of visitors. People are rude to them if they don't speak French. I found by saying a few phrases in French, then asking if the spoke English, I had a fine time. I did find the use of other languages in public places a little annoying. While English was always available where necessary (e.g. airport checkpoints), it was missing when it would be most useful (e.g. the Louvre). Also the French don't use a qwerty Keyboard. Their is quite different- another example of trying to maintain separation, and this one is a real annoyance. And I will say that while they use roman letters, the words sound absolutely nothing like they look, even when I supposedly know how to pronounce them. So difficult to understand any spoken French.

    Outward sexuality in public is high in Paris yes, but probably no more than New York. Maybe a few more people kissing on the train or bare breasted shots in the subway, but really the same league.  In Fact, I think Paris is a better city for kids. Lots of play places and most museums are free under 18.

    France is also known for fashion, most of it quite cutting edge- that is, odd. But the eccentricity comes with a reward: good taste in art- from cinema to music. the bizarre fashion is just a byproduct. This attitude of being outwardly cold seems to be only relegated to outsiders- all the French people I've actually know, including friends of friends I me on this trip- are incredibly warm to me and their friends.

    I was able to stay with the mom of friends in the most incredible flat with ridiculous attention to detail. A bathroom fan that stays on for several minutes after the light goes off, then stops automatically, for instance. From the skylights to the art to the stone floor shower and artsy iron beam basement, it was really interesting to see home deco. Not my strong point but I can appreciate it.

    Speaking of not my strongest points, the Louvre is touted as the world's best museum. My verdict: it is indeed. A museum since the 1600's, not only the contents but the building itself and its artistry and architecture are marvels. I'm not an art guy, but there was more than enough to keep me busy for maybe 4 hours. And probably 3 more 4 hour trips too. By the da Vinci measure (5 compared to the Smithsonian’s maybe 1), the Louvre is the huge victor. (If anyone caught that pun, you win!)

    You should see these, I guess. But there are better ones.

    While the Mona Lisa and Venus de Milo are the main draws here, I didn’t really like either. Jana explained to me the Mona Lisa’s significance, but I can only grasp it theoretically. Scholars say the Venus might not even be Aphrodite and I hope it’s not because she’s not really even more than a little attractive. Michaelangelo’s David, in Florence (see my thoughts on that in this post) to which this sculpture is sometimes compared, is on a completely different plane.

    So while the all-star art gets all the crowds, it was the starters who are underappreciated who get my votes. My favorite works were the raft of the Medusa (like CSN&Y’s Ohio, this put politics in art and into the public eye very quickly after the event, creating political ramifications) and Liberty Leading the People. Again a political one, and with much movement, I guess I like action and politics, not posing…


    Raft and Liberty, 2 of my faves

    I also got to go to the Rodin museum. I've liked Rodin since I was a kid ( I guess my 10th grade teacher Ms. Gecan imposed this on me) but I only got to see some of his best works on this trip. Most of the originals are all in Paris, in the Rodin Museum. My favorite was John the Baptist, also the more famous Three Shades, the Burghers of Callais and the Gates of Hell. The Kiss and the Thinker were nice, but not as living up to the hype. Really an incredible sculptor, Rodin was famous for bringing sexuality into his art. To me it seems just like the human body, nudes, but not necessarily sexual. I generally like raw things best in art, and I can make an exception for Rodin's refined body movement. I especially like the sculptures with movement that show the whole body- even without a head!

     

    Shades and Burghers

    Jim Morrison's grave was closed due to icy conditions (amazing how many upset pilgrims there were) so to I had to settle instead for Napoleon's Tomb. Perhaps only the Taj Mahal tops this monolith in tomb opulence. I came to learn that Napoleon is seen very positively in France, something that is in marked contrast of the quirky megolomaniacal funny little guy that our schools portray. He’s like George Washington plus Thomas Jefferson to them, with even a little big of Jesus Christ. I guess the Napoleonic code was a big deal, but seriously…. BTW the French also have a very heroistic view of Charles de Gaulle. Not a completely objective or western perspective, really. But I can’t expect to completely understand the French psyche in less than 5 days…

     

    Jim Morrison's grave! No, wait, that's Napoleon's grave-church.

    I need to also emphasize the religious element of the city. Though essentially seen as museums by the French (though still attended by immigrants), the churches in Paris are amazing. Notre Dame was my favorite. 5 stars and definitely one of the top 3 churches of my life (the others are St Mary’s in Krakow Poland and Notre Dame Basilica in Montreal)) I went once in the day for the Stained glass and once at night for the tranquility. An architectural wonder with its flying buttresses, it's also amazingly beautiful and ornate in its statues and decorations.

     

    Paris' greatest building, Notre Dame

    The chapel Saint-Chapelle is the world's most gorgeous array of stained glass and even on the gloomy winter day sitting inside kept my attention rapt for an hour. Not an active church, but it once was. Still I’ll give it a top 10, and maybe even a top 5.


    Ste-Chapelle

    Sacred Heart also makes my top 10 most beautiful church list. 4 stars, and remember now that churches are one of my top destinations whenever I go somewhere, so Paris having 3 in the top 10 is actually incredible. No other country, let alone city, has that representation. At any rate, Sacred Heart (Sacre-Couer) overlooks the city from a hill for great views in addition to being an amazing church. They’ve also had perpetual adoration there for something like 125 years.  There’s even an awesome old parochial church tucked in its shadow, making that corner of Paris a true religious gem (and indeed a huge zoo with tourists). I went to mass here, which consisted mostly of Black Africans listening to mass and white tourists walking around. (For the record, rounding out the top 10 beautiful churches: St Anne’s  in Vilnius Lithuania, St George’s Maronite Cathedral in Beirut Lebanon, Basilica of the Shrine of the Immaculate conception in DC, Temple of Jesus Christ the Savior in Moscow, Church of the Savior on Spilled blood St Petersburg Russia, Fraunekirche, Dresden, Germany,  and yes, St Peters in the Vatican. St Augustine’s in DC gets an honorable mention for the music. And Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem and Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem aren’t as amazing looking but their ambiance and historicity makes them top of an alternative list. Also tally the Haaga Sophia in Turkey to the amazing history category and with those caveats that top 10 list’s probably about right, though I didn’t think too long on that list and you know Gaudi’s church in Barcelona is gonna be on there when I make it. And probably Cologne cathedral too).

     

    Sacre-Couer at night.

    I guess I should give some quick assessments of famous spots: Champs de Elysses: boring and commercial. Arc D’ Triumphe: definitely triumphant nighttime lighting. This city actually looks better at night, especially with Christmas lights up. The Eiffel Tower’s lights are the quintessential example of this. BTW Fodors gave me bad info and I had to pay a lot of $$$ to get up it in the elevator, instead of telling about the stairs, but no matter. Eiffel tower is still strangely beautiful, though perhaps only at night.

     

    Tour d' Eiffel!

    As a metro connoisseur I was also impressed by Paris. The frequent and fast Parisian metro is the envy of DC or New York (though the bad seat placement is inefficient). Though really, efficiency is not Paris’ strong suit. This famous criticism is valid, especially at tourist attractions like Napoleon’s tomb that have a huge line and only one ticket register worker who is not on break…

    One last thing I enjoyed in Paris was the outdoors. It has a few parks, and especially on the outskirts of the downtown where I stayed there were miles and miles of trails that I loved running (and getting lost in) the woods for hours...lots of likes and ice, but only one other runner smiled at me!

    Seeing Paris in the non-summer tourist season gave me hope that I might actually like Italy if I went again in another season...though the Italian tourists in Paris were certainly obnoxious, loud and ubiquitous. And by the way: Fodor’s is even more error riddled than Lonely Planet. But despite this bad guidebook, the gray skies, the smoke bad service and dysfunctional lines and unfriendliness, I didn’t want to leave. Like Vilnius, and Jerusalem, it’s one of those place where I’d go right back again tomorrow…


     More of my favorites from the Louvre: Zombie Jesus and Baseball Player Greek (no not their real names).