A most sacrilegious murder

I've had murder on my mind quite a bit lately.  In the academic sense, of course, although I did dream I had murdered someone (unknown to me) a few nights ago.  That wasn't very pleasant.

But I've been listening to John Grisham's The Innocent Man and it is a harrowing true tale of injustice resulting from a murder which occurred in Oklahoma in 1982.  Two men were convicted of the rape and murder of a young woman, despite there being no physical evidence against them.  The little forensic evidence available did more to eliminate them from than to link them to the crime.  Nevertheless, it was used along with some other fabricated testimony to get a conviction.  One of them was 5 days from execution when a federal judge finally put a stop to all the nonsense (Oklahoma has the highest per-capita execution rate in the United States).  Soon after that, DNA evidence was analyzed which not only cleared them of all wrongdoing, but actually pointed the finger quite directly at another person who just happened to have been the last person seen with the victim, but whom the police had never considered a suspect.  The weird thing is that after their release the entire town, and especially the police and prosecutors, still believed them to be guilty.

The murder that I've been entertained by tonight was that of King Duncan inter alia by the dastardly Macbeth -- in this case in Verdi's masterpiece.  This was the Boston Lyric Opera at its finest.  I cannot remember such a good production of theirs, although I admit I don't go to many of them.  I went with Will to the Shubert Theater in Boston and we had a really pleasant evening of dinner, followed by a pre-performance lecture, followed by the opera.  The lecture, by Dr. Elizabeth Seitz, concentrated on the role of Lady Macbeth, demonstrating how her vocal part starts as confident and determined, passes through tentative, questioning, and ends rather sadly in the famous sleep-walking scene as completely unhinged.

The singers were outstandingly good.  Most of my recent opera outings have been either to the Met itself or to its HD broadcasts at local movie theaters.  While the Met talent may be more experienced and robust, there is a huge benefit as an audience member to being so much closer to the stage, which is really only practical at a smaller theater such as the Shubert.  And while, many rave about the HD broadcasts, they leave me a little cold.  There is nothing like live opera. 

While Macbeth (Daniel Sutin) and Lady Macbeth (Carter Scott) who between them carry most of the solo work (the opera also relies heavily on its chorus) were predictably excellent, I was actually very impressed Banquo (Darren Stokes) and, especially, Macduff (Richard Crawley) who have relatively minor roles.

The production was overall brilliant -- extremely imaginative designs, costumes, choreography.  Perhaps the most stunning aspect was the corpses hanging over the stage at the battles that begin and end the story.

The orchestra was excellent too, directed by (Englishman) David Angus.  Although I'd never previously seen the opera, I was already very familiar with the music from recordings and I was not disappointed in the orchestra.  I even know the 2nd clarinet, Karen Heninger, from gigs we've done together.  And, I was quite surprised to find that there was an instrument in the orchestra that I'd never seen before: the Cimbasso, a kind of tuba that looks a bit like a trombone.

I would heartily recommend this production to anyone who can get to it.  And I happen to think that Macbeth is actually one of Verdi's most entertaining operas.  The Verdi of 1846 was not quite so smooth as the when he wrote the big three from six or seven years later: Rigoletto/Trovatore/Traviata.  And definitely not as polished as the later operas of twenty or thirty years more experience.  But Macbeth is refreshing, invigorating and very direct.  The music is somewhat dark as befits its subject (plenty of bassoon and trombone stuff) but full of good tunes, with marvellous choral writing.

My personal interest in "the Scottish play" goes back almost as far as I can remember.  It was the first Shakespeare play that I learned and studied.  I think I can still do "Is this a dagger that I see before me?"  I've even been orienteering in the grounds of Cawdor castle (not very far from where the photograph at the top of the page was taken).  No doubt the real Macbeth got a bum rap at the hands of the bard, as did Richard III of England, but today his actual life signifies nothing. Yet the message of the play resonates whenever we hear of corruption and greed among the rich and powerful.

Perhaps Shakespeare's wisest line from the play, which applies to many aspects of life (take note, followers of famous people, and prosecutors and defenders of suspects in crime), is this: [Duncan]: "There's no art to find the mind's construction in the face.  He was a gentleman on whom I built an absolute trust."

Robin's Rural Red Ride

Having been a BMW owner for the last 15 years or so, I had to struggle with myself not to buy another one.  They're wonderful cars to drive and the first 60,000 miles are true Fahrvergnügen. Then, as soon as the free maintenance and bumper-to-bumper warranty expire, little messages start to travel around the wires deciding which part gets to fail first. And of course the parts, which don't fit any other make of car and presumably have to be imported from Germany, are expensive.  And then there is the labor.  It's not just any old Joe Mechanic who can service such a beautiful machine.  No, these guys wear suits!

So, with some reluctance on my part, we went looking for a less costly alternative, probably Japanese but still maybe made here in the USA.  I don't spend a lot of time driving so a nice reliable car and, moreover, one that performs well in the snow and not too much of a gas guzzler, would be nice.  After quite a few test drives and much research on consumer reports, we hit upon the all-wheel drive Subaru Legacy.  And to cut a long story short, we bought 2012 model: a very pleasant shade of red.  I had traded in the BMW and was really very sad to leave it behind.  But I love the new Legacy!  I really do.  Not only have I actually visited the original Subaru (Fuji Heavy Industries) in Japan, but the Legacy is actually made here in Indiana.

The car is well-endowed, with navigation system, 3.6 litre 6-cylinder horizontally aligned engine , leather seats, all mod cons.  Even the gas mileage is decent (better than I was getting with the bimmer).  The audio has blue-tooth connectivity so that, theoretically, I can play stuff from my iPhone on the speakers.  I definitely can make phone calls hands-free through the speakers, although the voice recognition to make it truly hands-free either doesn't work, or is too hard for me to figure out.  I've since learned that there are some deliberate policy decisions which prevent certain things happening together, like voice recognition while the map is visible.  Or something like that.

The real Achilles heel of the car is the navigation system.  First, the good news.  It has the best voice that I've ever heard in a navigation system.  Really nicely done.  But after that things start going downhill a little.  The only time I've bought a factory-installed navigation system was in one of the BMWs, back in around 2000.  There were some minor problems, mainly with the accuracy of the maps, and little things like choosing non-optimum routes.  I figured that the state-of-the-art would really have improved in 12 years.

I was too optimistic.  You'd think that getting from our house to Sturbridge and back would pretty easy, right?  Not so fast.  As we were heading down I-290, we ran into a huge traffic jam which we later learned was the result of an accident.  I figured that with the navigation system, it would be easy to get off and go around it.  The manual says, press the "Dest" button and then touch Address, or whatever.  But Address wasn't sensitive (i.e was dark).  Eventually we found that double-clicking the button sometimes made the address on-screen button sensitive.  But then, actually entering the address was incredibly difficult and took several attempts.  By this time, we were pulled over on a side street so I got out my trusty iPhone.  It showed the way with no problem.  Its only drawback is that it doesn't give turn-by-turn directions audibly.  Both systems were in agreement about the first couple of turns.  Then they diverged.  We followed the car system.  It was wrong and we made a u-turn.  Then when we finally were approaching the ticket booths for I-90, the car system told us to go East instead of West (showing a route to the next exit and back).  We ignored it of course but making an error like that could easily cost 15 or 20 minutes.  On the way home, it wanted to take a bizarre out-of-the-way route, avoiding I-90 (no, it's not programmed to avoid tolls or anything like that).  I ignored it. 

One of the hardest things to do with it is to turn the darn thing off!  You'd think it would be incredibly easy to cancel navigation.  But apparently, the designers didn't think we'd want to do that.  You have to turn the whole system off before you can start over.

Fortunately, I didn't buy a GPS system because I need directions.  It's unusual that I do.  But every now and then, I'm going somewhere I haven't been before and so navigation that I don't have to break the law to use would be nice.  I mainly like these systems because I'm a map nut.  I love maps and anyone who loves maps presumably also loves the GPS system.  So, having a few errors doesn't bother me all that much.  It's more of a joke really.

But, if anyone at Subaru is actually reading this, then get off your zabuton and get the bugs out!

Katahdin

Looking towards South Peak and the Knife Edge (to the left)

Last weekend, Kim and I, with two friends Cheryl and Ginger, succeeded in our year-long goal: reach the summit of Katahdin (the "Mount" is superfluous although officially part of its name).  At 5267' (almost a mile high), Katahdin is the highest point in Maine and the 6th highest in New England.  It's also the second most prominent mountain in New England and third most prominent East of the Mississippi.  See my previous blog An Achievable Goal? for an explanation of prominence.

Being from Maine, Kim of course has a special reason to climb Katahdin and it was her goal, established last year, that we were fulfilling.  At the start of the year, I didn't think I would want to go all the way up myself.  But a funny thing happened on the way...  As Kim puts it, I got "summit fever" and became determined to get to the top.

What is it about these mountains that makes us want to climb them.  Mallory famously said of Everest "Because it's there."  And I think there is something in that.  A mountain as tough as Katahdin represents a challenge that we feel, to some extent, compelled to meet.  While there are probably more difficult trails in New Hampshire and elsewhere for that matter, what is unique about Katahdin is that there is no easy trail to the top.  All of the trails are difficult.  This contrasts with, say, Mt. Washington (6288') where there are some trails which are relatively easy.  There's also the auto road and the railroad to the summit!  But, if you want to stand on the summit of Katahdin, you must do it by your own not inconsiderable efforts.

I've written up the details of our hike here, but suffice it to say that our route requires just under 4000' of actual climbing and a total round trip of 11 miles. The hike took us 15 hours all told, including rest stops and a three-hour exodus in the dark. You can also see more photographs here and there is a video here.

Planning for the trip was considerable.  First, there were all of the training hikes, starting back in April and totaling 35000' of climbing and 110 miles for Kim and a little less than that for me.  Then the logistics of the hike itself: it's over six hours driving from our house to the parking area at the trail-head, but of course we needed to stay overnight both before and after the hike.  Then there's the little detail that only Maine residents can reserve parking spaces (there are only 35!) more than two weeks ahead of the day.  When Kim logged in at midnight two weeks ahead, there were three spaces available!  Then of course, there's the worry that the weather will turn out to be bad, or the mountain will be cloaked in clouds affording no views.  We would have rescheduled under those conditions.

So, it is with a great sense of achievement and relief that I write this.  The best time to climb Katahdin is when you're young and fit.  Three of our party are significantly past our sell-by date and that doesn't bode well for fast hiking. But we did it. And we also have a great sense of gratitude, especially to Percival Baxter, for whom the State Park containing Katahdin is named.  He was Governor of Maine 1921-25 and spent his life and fortune buying up the land around Katahdin.  Then he donated it all to the state together with an endowment to pay for its upkeep, requiring that it remain a wilderness in perpetuity.

As it turned out, the weather was absolutely perfect: cool and dry.  The only problem was that it was slightly too cool -- with patches of ice up on the summit (you can see the ice - rime to be precise - in the photo at the top).  Several trails were actually closed, making our chosen trail much more popular than it otherwise would have been.  But the views, and the feeling of elation at the top, were just incredible.  Unforgettable!

Robin, Ginger, Cheryl and Kim on top of the world

An achievable goal?

Well, I've had quite a problem with blogging this summer.  Some stories were too big to go in the blog, some were too insignificant.  Some I just couldn't describe appropriately.  There are several embryonic drafts in my folder.

Kim and I just got back late last night from our final training hike of 2011 - in preparation for the "biggie": Mt. Katahdin later this month.  Our goal yesterday was Mt. Monroe, a distinct peak on the shoulder of Mt. Washington and, as the name implies, part of the Presidential range.  At 5372', Monroe is the 4th highest mountain in the Northeastern US.  We had planned to summit Monroe then Eisenhower (4760') on our way back down which would have involved an extra 0.8 miles (in addition to the 9+ that we did) and another 300' of climb.  I was too exhausted, though, even for that.  I'm not sure why but the three-week layoff didn't help much.  More detail in my report on EveryTrail.

These hikes have to be planned quite carefully.  We need the right amount of distance and climb to fit into the training schedule.  This final training hike entailed (in practice) about 3650' of elevation gain and about 9 miles round-trip.  Katahdin (5267') will require about 3750' of elevation and more like 11 miles round-trip.  It will also require some scrambling over boulder fields and some challenging sections (but don't worry, we will not be attempting the knife edge).  So Monroe was excellent training for that.  We will also have to start very early in order to have as much light for the descent as possible, now that the days are getting shorter.  We'll probably be on the mountain for 12 hours or more.

So that's twice in as many hikes that I've missed the secondary peak (Kim got the earlier one) but it doesn't help my chances at the "48" club**.  But then I never aspired to belonging to that club anyway.  Kim isn't sure yet - she has 19 now (would have been 20 with Eisenhower) and might want to complete the other 29.

But I think I've adopted a new goal, one slightly less onerous: the eight 5000 footers of New England.  After Katahdin (fingers crossed), I will only have two to "bag": Mt Washington (which at 6288' is hard but probably no harder than Katahdin) and Mt. Adams which was planned for our Presidential range hike seven years ago but which I couldn't manage due to lack of fitness (again it was only 300' to the top but wobbly legs aren't good for climbing mountains).

But these lists of peaks have a big flaw.  They are based on a completely arbitrary value for minimum prominence: 200 ft.  Prominence is defined thus:

The prominence of a peak is the height of the peak’s summit above the lowest contour line encircling it and no higher summit.
It is in some ways a better indication than the actual elevation of the summit to the amount of climb necessary to get to the top.  This is because the starting point for an ascent is often one of the cols (or saddles) around the base of the mountain. When mountains are listed by prominence, many peaks are relegated beyond the practical limits of the list -- all of the Presidential range, for instance.  Of course, listing peaks with no prominence requirements at all would be an impossibility -- the number of peaks approaches infinity as the prominence threshold gets smaller and smaller.

There is an entire web site devoted to lists of prominence throughout the world.  In New Hampshire, for instance, there are 14 peaks with prominence greater than 2000'.  And we've climbed slightly more than half of these: Carter Dome, Lafayette, Kinsman, Moosilauke*, Carrigain*, Osceola*, Kearsage, Monadnock (*I'm taking credit here for some that Kim only has climbed).  There are 12 in Vermont, of which we have climbed only one (Ascutney).  There are 16 in Maine of which we haven't climbed any - yet, although we've been close (Bigelow's Avery Peak - West Peak).   Katahdin will be the biggie: over 4000' of prominence.  And this list makes it more important to climb Massachusetts' own Mt. Greylock: the only mountain in Southern New England with 2000' of prominence. 

I'm even looking at the lists for the British Isles.  I note that Paul and I have climbed #67 Croaghaun with 688m (2257') of prominence (this page has a great photograph) and #112 Cadair Idris (608m, 1994'). which comes just after Ben Loyal (which I would like to climb one day as we didn't have time on our last visit to Sutherland).

So, perhaps a realistic goal is to climb all of the peaks in New Hampshire and Massachusetts with at least 2000' of prominence.  Only seven to go.  Many of the Maine peaks are simply too far out of the way to be practical.

** people who have climbed all 48 of New Hampshire's 4000'-plus mountains.

The North Downs

Part of the following was originally penned back in April. My apologies for finishing it so late.

The view from Chartham Downs

Oh, What a Beautiful Morning!  My niece Mia and I went for a ride this morning along the narrow lanes on the edge of the North Downs here in Kent.  Our primary goal was to hear/see a skylark, or if we were very lucky, an early cuckoo.  We were disappointed in that goal but what a wonderful outing we had.  We saw a chiffchaff, magpies, lots of wood pigeons, a goldfinch, a huge and curious fox, a peacock and several pheasants, rooks, etc.  The bluebells were out in force, carpeting the woods. 

Later, we visited Denge wood, although the birds there had gone quiet during the mid-morning.

The next day Mia was again interested in bird-watching and running, although she's way too fast for me!  This time we drove up to Stodmarsh and although we didn't see anything very spectacular, it was another beautiful, quiet morning. Unfortunately, it was again too quiet: no sound of skylarks or cuckoos.  The photo above was taken from one of the hides.  So peaceful as the swan glided from left to right.

The North Downs have, I would say, been a significant factor in my life.  Stretching from Guildford in the West (although, in a sense, the Downs could be said to extend all the way to Salisbury plain) to Dover (and the English Channel) in the East, they form a crescent which brings them quite close in to London.  The Canterbury pilgrims used the downs for several reasons ("The Pilgrims' Way"): firstly for navigation -- it's easier to follow the ridge line of a range of hills.  This must have been especially important in the early days of the pilgrimage (the end of the 12th century) when usage had not yet resulted in easily followed tracks.  Second, they were perhaps a little less likely to be ambushed by footpads since the had the advantage of visibility and height.  Third, the soil (based on chalk) is porous and so wet patches do not develop that would slow passage -- in contrast to the "Wealden" clay just to the South.  As the pilgrims reached the edge of the valley of the Stour (Chilham), they would turn left and leave the downs, passing through Chartham into Canterbury.

I remember many wonderful day trips from London notably to Box Hill and Leith Hill from which the view was always tremendous.  And two great men, Charles Darwin and Ralph Vaughan Williams were united, not only by the intertwining of their families, but in making their homes on the North slope of the Downs -- Darwin at Downe House in Orpington and Vaughan Williams at Leith Hill Place near Dorking.  I remember these hills too as the domain of the Chalk Hill Blue, a lovely if unassuming butterfly.  Whether or not they are still there, I know not.  Perhaps that should be my next nature quest for the North Downs.

The South Downs too have been if anything an even bigger influence in my youth.  I will tackle them in a future blog.  And I know just where to look for the Chalk Hill Blue in the South Downs :)

A summer of hiking

Looking West from Mt. Abraham towards Saddleback

Another successful hike last Saturday, this time to the summit of Mt. Abraham (Maine) [4037'] with a total of 2950' gain in elevation and about 9 miles round trip.  The majority of the elevation gain was accomplished in the last mile and a quarter of the fire warden's trail so the climb was pretty steep.  See EveryTrail for more details on the climb (with profile).  This time, we only took Puga and Cindy as the "junior" dogs were not really up to it.

We began our training this year with Mt. Wachusett in late April, I think.  That was about 900' elevation gain and only about 3 miles round trip.  We've successively done harder and harder climbs since then (although we gave our legs a rest a couple of weeks ago with Mt. Kearsage South).  I've missed a couple of hikes, but Kim has been on every one.

These days as I'm struggling up the trails to such lofty peaks, I marvel at my sheer insanity seven years ago when I volunteered to go on a two day hike in the Presidential range.  Our plan was to start up the Caps Ridge trail (2720' elevation gain), summit Mt. Jefferson (5716') then go on to bag Mt. Adams before staying overnight at the Madison Springs Hut.  Then on up Mt. Madison the following day.  It was a long time (forever?) since I had done such a demanding hike and, although I had trained assiduously on the stairmaster ahead of time, I had done very little real hiking in preparation.  I must have been mad!

The ascent of Mt. Jefferson, while quite scary at times, went without a hitch.  But by the time we had struggled over to the foot of Mt. Adams, my legs were done.  And I mean done.  So, Kim and I skipped Mt. Adams (sorry!) and made sure we got to the hut in time for dinner.  After dinner, we went on a nature walk and took in the unadulterated night sky.  The following day, we climbed Mt. Madison and had the most unbelievable views.  While the descent might might have seemed easier, my knees could hardly move for the next couple of weeks.

Fast forward to 2011.  Our plan is to conquer Mt. Katahdin later this summer.  It stands at 5268' but with approximately 4000' (ugh!) of elevation gain.  It's one tough mountain by all accounts.

Until this last hike of Mt. Abraham, I was seriously doubting if I could do it.  But now, I know I can and am determined to make all the training worthwhile.  I just hope that the weather is good because I hate hiking on slippery rocks.

Looking North to Sugarloaf and the Bigelow Range beyond