Making Other Plans

The tire had been flat for many years and though it held air, it seemed best to rotate the weight to a different side of the tire. This didn't seem quite so simple as my feet went out from under me and I started to fall backward with a trailer and boat rapidly bearing down on my crotch.

Through some feat of magic (or maybe it was simply adrenaline) I managed to torque my torso clear, but not in time to free my left hand. My fingers became sausages in a trailer-cinder block sandwich.

Lucky, this day, I was married. My wedding band took most of the blow, but looking quickly at my hand I saw a flash of white (never a good sign) before red overtook my hand and the grass at my feet. Naturally, I didn't make a sound. I never make a sound when I really injure myself. Sounds are reserved for stubbing your toe or when a sleeping bag falls on your head in the garage - not situations where there is actual pain. I really should have tried out for drama club in high school.

A Ring with Benefits

So alone in my quiet red pool, I had time to lift the trailer back up and reposition it on the cinder block before Shelly - who had heard the crash - came running out into the backyard.

I knew it was pretty bad, but I didn't want to impose, so I stopped to share dinner and conversation with my mother-in-law before excusing myself and my lovely bride to drive me to the ER. Eight stitches later and a lot of gauze we were home. Good thing most of the packing for the trip was already done, because the next morning I had to cancel going to Shelly's surgery so I could go to see the hand surgeon and physical therapist. That night we left for Mexico with Shelly still doped up on anesthesia. Can't say we don't know how to celebrate an anniversary. Just following the lead of our spiritual adviser.

I've been meaning to write this up for weeks, but once my meatsticks healed it's been one surprise after another. This weekend half a tree snapped off in my backyard. Last night, a simple walk with my girls in the moonlight and ended up in the shower with two dogs and the smell of some sort of musky animal carcass. They say life is what happens when you're making other plans.

The Opposite of Hubris

Welcome is MIA

It's a wonder really anyone visits our country. I can only speak to the courtesies I received as a US Citizen at Miami International, but I'd place my treatment something akin to that of a cow at the slaughterhouse.

My first interaction with my countrymen in over two weeks was such a delight I laughed out loud, a woman screaming at the top of her lungs "USA" and gesticulating wildly. If anyone was confused her first tactic was to yell louder, her second tactic was to grab their passport out of their hand and physically push them into one chute or the other.

Puerto Plata airport by jessicasays

Arriving in the Dominican Republic my first impression was a free rum and coke and warm smile. And that was just to keep me company as I went through customs. Talk about greetings. Not that customs was a hassle in the DR. There was no line and it was pretty much check the passport, stamp and go. Nothing says "You are welcome here, make yourself at home" like sipping a drink while they stamp your passport and you wait for your bag to appear.

Budweiser, Coors, Miller, Coca-cola, Pepsi, McDonalds, Burger King, Jack Daniels... any American company really... are you listening? Seriously. I think we can do better. At the very least maybe we can teach border patrol to cough up a smile and say politely, "Welcome to America"? I'll leave the security theatre of it all alone for now. Today I'm talking about manners and better marketing America.

After the yelling lady we were herded into a corral which eventually led to one of eight Customs Agents. The man who stamped our passports was genuinely friendly, though unfortunately either poorly trained - or possibly so disarmed by Shelly's smile, something that must be infrequent in the travelers he faces after such a joyous welcome home from the yelling lady that he made the wrong magic marker authentication doodle.

It was a half half mile walk down a corridor to a surly older agent in a tactical sweater who refused us enter to America. We asked him calmly, but repeatedly, what was wrong. All he would offer was, "Wrong mark, go see agent who did this." We were forced to retrace our steps, find a way past the lady screaming "USA" without getting shoved and return to corrals. After another twenty minutes we eventually returned to the friendly customs agent, who apologized for his error and changed the blue magic marker scribble from a one to something more two-like. Another half mile walk, and this token satisfied the surly tactical sweater dude and we were free to kiss the soil.

I sure hope servicemen and women get to bypass this ridiculous charade.

I will admit Miami was better than a recent arrival to Newark from abroad, but anyone who has spent any time in New Jersey knows that is far from a compliment. We as a country have to be able to do better. I was mostly in the "US Citizen Only" lines, and I can only imagine how we treat foreigners with a nice tan. What an embarrassment.

Let's get a some security folks together with some marketing folks and maybe we can find a way to make this both secure *and* enjoyable. Those Disney Imagineers would really come in handy here. Perhaps if we don't treat everyone like the enemy (including our own citizens) we might have less enemies? A better experience in immigration isn't going to stop someone who is already chanting "Death to America!", but it is harder to yell with salt water taffy in your mouth.

Ivar's Seafood's marketing folks are brilliant, perhaps they might have some good ideas

Can't the country that invented the Snuggie do better to make everyone a little more comfortable and do a better job to market American companies - and America - in the process?

"Welcome to America! Here's your free Snuggie and Happy Meal!"

Stolle, A New Version

Two years later. Valentines day. We decided to repeat our first big trip together to Stolle Meadows Cabin, a small forest service cabin isolated in winter by 30 miles of snow covered roads followed by seven miles on skis, snowshoes or snowmobile. Quiet, peaceful. We were looking forward to it for weeks.

After a long drive in we were surprised to find a couple unloading their rig into sleds at the one parking spot. I decided to get out and chat. Turns out they were headed into a cabin too. Wow. There is only one cabin. "You're going into Stolle, huh?" I repeat. Before reacting I decide I better check my reservation. Yes, here it is. Three day weekend, check. January... um. This isn't good. Yep, three day weekend. Martin Luther King weekend. This is President's Day Weekend. This is not good.

Shelly was, to put in mildly, crushed. To her credit she didn't quite cry. But to say we were disappointed would be a gross understatement. I remembered from mapping the area that a few miles up the road was a bar and cabins that just might be open in the winter. Chancing it I drove further in rather than retreating home.

I arrived at North Shore of Warm Lake, humbled. It was good to see some life. The bar lights were lit and children were sledding down the road speaking some sort of Slavic tongue. Inside I was greeted with a warm smile from the bartender. I leaned across the bar, returned her smile and simply said softly, "You gotta help me save this weekend."

Despite my tale of woe, she could only sympathetically return, "Sorry all our rooms are booked."

I was expecting this, but was unrelenting. "Are you sure?" "Is there anything at all?" I was about to ask if they had a tent we could borrow to erect in the snow when a tall fellow sauntered into the scene and offered, "Couldn't we heat up cabin number five?"

It wasn't winterized. In fact we would learn there was places inside where you could look straight through the walls to outdoors. But it had a heater. It was ten degrees outside. We'd traveled nearly four hours to get this far. We took it.

Rob got the heater fired up. Warm it was not the first night, but we did everything we could, piling thermarests against the windows, closing rooms off with mattresses. We almost hit 60 degrees by the last light of the day before night assaulted our progress. But we had sleeping bags, we had each other, we had gourmet dinners we'd brought for one another, and we had a warm bar and new friends to make. By the second day when the cabin temperature stuck 70 we were down to our underwear high-fiving in celebration.


We arrive to dark skies and sideways snow


The Sun Breaks


Two and Infinity


On the Ice


Weekend Saved


My Girls and Cabin Five

The solitude was reduced to a degree. But I wouldn't call the weekend a failure in the least. We had a blast hanging out with the regulars at the bar, all six of them. At one point we even busted out the karaoke. And the mixed drinks couldn't have been any more inventive without a lab coat.

It was serendipitous for all of us really. When we had first arrived in our dejected stupor, Desi had spotted Stolle, the North Shore resident dog. It took only a hundred yards for her to injure her leg again and leave her on three paws. It'd have been a rough seven mile trek in and out for her, and likely us who would have had to haul her out on one of the sleds.


Desi couldn't handle deep snow


Watching her carefully on the hardpack


Desi's and our new friend Stolle.


Rockin' the ladybug slippers and butt heart (I wore this same ensemble up to the bar)


Beware of dragons


Creative insulation


Pecan-crusted tzatziki salmon


If it weren't for the styrofoam cooler...


Cycles


Pixelation


Chillin'


Bye Warm Lake!

For anyone looking for a really great quiet weekend winter getaway, cabin fever as it were, I'd highly recommend North Shore. The people and scenery are fantastic. We'll be back. Maybe even on the same day as our reservation.

Isn't in a Syn?

This makes me giggle. Synonym.com has no synonym for synonym.

http://www.synonym.com/synonyms/synonym/

I'm never sure, but I think this qualifies as irony.

My Letter to Life Flight

From: Brent
Sent: Tuesday, March 10, 2009 4:35 PM
To: 'lifeflight@sarmc.org'
Subject: Is there a service map available?

On your FAQ (http://www.saintalphonsus.org/svc_lifeflight_FAQ.html) you mention there is more information about the geographic area you serve on the Membership Benefits page (http://www.saintalphonsus.org/svc_lifeflight_benefits.html) however I can only find gross generalities there on the location served such as, “With bases in Boise, McCall, and Twin Falls, Saint Alphonsus Life Flight provides critical care to the broadest geographic areas in Idaho and neighboring states.”

In order that I may correctly assess how many risks I should take in a given situation, it would be ideal to have a coverage map similar to a mobile telephone service area map. Do you have any such map? If so I would be delighted to see it and it would be a great addition to the website too.

Before I put my life in jeopardy I am always heartened knowing your gyroscopic bird is on call to pluck my carcass off the mountain.

Thanks!
Brent

Go Brazilian

This combination appeared in the North End a few weeks back. There are so many ways to read this and few of them are palatable. I wonder, does the sign juxtaposition help or hurt the individual business/cause?

Top Gear Polar Challenge

I just ran across an incredible, possibly incredibly stupid (at times) effort by Top Gear to be the first to take a street legal car to the North Pole. And they succeed.

Yet another testament to the durability of a (heavily modified) Toyota pickup.

Here's a few highlights from the saga:


You can watch all eight segments on YouTube or download the Torrent.

Offset Your Infidelity

An absolutely brilliant take on "Carbon Offsets" currently being offered by companies like TerraPass when purchasing airfare.

Don't hesitate, offset your cheating today at cheatneutral!

Insecurity as a Business Model

I nearly fell off the toilet when I found this advert in a copy of Palm Springs Life left in our hotel bathroom. Really the advertisement speaks for itself. I'll let it.











Excellent message Denise Robergé! I don't know which is scarier, the marketing insecurity and jealousy on one side or materialism on the other. Pathetic.

This Message Approved by

TSA Approved Sunblock Anyone?

Landing in Palm Springs I'm greeted with an outdoor concourse complete with a sunbathing lawn. All inside the TSA secured area. Coming fresh from winter it's a little disorienting.

So this is how the snakes got on...

Frankfurt Airport City

In planning my first night in Germany I ran across this complete and utterly hilarious/painful song produced to highlight the Frankfurt Airport.

Master Session Group
Frankfurt Airport City [Listen]

Just pack your bags and leave, tomorrow’s the big day
Destination Frankfurt, we’re on our way
to a city within a city and a hub full of streams
and impressions, like in our boldest dreams

Chorus
Baby if we try, we can ride across the sky
Heading for this growin’ airport city
Up the clouds along, where the winds ain’t strong
High above Frankfurt Airport City
Frankfurt Airport City

We’re close like never before, to the city you can’t ignore
Located right in the heart of Europe
And behind that significant horizon
It is Germany’s gateway to the world

...

You'll spend the first five listens giggling and then next two days humming the tune to yourself. It's that terrible.

        »» Listen

Zero Hippopotamuses

Image Source: hippopotamuses.org

Zero is plural.

Really. Try it with me now.

(2) Two hippopotami have soiled the carpet in my den.

(1) I have a hippopotamus in my powder room.

(0) There aren't any hippopotamuses in the kitchen.

(0) On close inspection, I found zero hippopotami in the dishwasher.

When programming I have to test before composing sentences:

IF ABS(countVariable) = 1 THEN
     textVariable = "hippopotamus"
ELSE
     textVariable = "hippopotamuses"
END IF

I know you're wondering. The preferred plural of hippopotamus is hippopotamuses, though hippopotami is accepted in the Oxford English Dictionary. Source: Wikipedia

Of course when encountering hippos in your dishwasher, I believe it would be correct to simply exclaim, "Snakes on a plane!"

Merry Bumping Christmas

Christmas Eve I got up early and made sure I was at the airport two hours early. Though I had no way of knowing how, I had a sneaking suspicion United Airlines wasn’t done complicating my life. I checked in for my flight two hours early, slid through security with no complications and even got to the gate without issue. A few minutes later the gate agent called my name. You, Mr. Thomas are being “involuntarily bumped!”

Involuntary bumping I learned does not involve pelvic motion, but instead exciting route selection:

You thought you were headed east?

Wrong! You’re going to Portland.

You thought your flight was to BWI?

Wrong! We’re routing you through National.

You thought you’d be at Christmas Eve dinner with family and friends?

Wrong! You’ll be lucky to get in before Santa arrives.

I handled that with pretty good spirits considering, but I was puzzled over my ticket:

It contained a few more surprises!

• Note how long that flight is from Portland to National? No, I'm not flying on a turbo-prop across the continent. No! I'm enjoying an unadvertised stop in Los Angeles! And for added fun they were letting passengers in Boise who were going to LAX via Portland to change flights and fly directly, however I wasn't told I'd be visiting LAX on Christmas Eve, so I got to go the long way and cram a second breakfast down my throat in Portland thinking it'd be my only meal of the day except...
• See that knife and fork on my ticket? It means, apparently, that cutlery is available, because there wasn’t any stinking meal.

The only good to come of this saga was a free airline ticket in the contiguous states via United for the pleasure of the bump.

The Strong Arm of the Law

So I was headed home from The Bouquet after the Clumsy Lovers show. I'd had a few, but I'd danced all night and was far from inebriated. Just as I was turning onto my street, blue and red lights illuminated everything around me. I pulled over. I was laughing before he even got out of the car.

The officer came forward and started asking questions:
Officer: Where are you coming from?
Me: Downtown, Sir.
Officer: Are you coming from the bars or do you work downtown?
Me: Both.
Officer: Do you have any idea why I pulled you over?
Me: Not especially, but if we're going to sit and have a conversation, why don't you come inside my house and we can make ourselves comfortable (it was about 12 degrees outside)?
Officer: Why do you live near here?
Me: Sir, that's my house three doors down you're illuminating with your lights.
Officer: That won't be necessary. How long have you lived here?
Me: Three years.
Officer: Did you know you need a light on your bike at night?
Me: Now I do.

He then ran my license, issued me a verbal warning for not having a light (he did tell me a headlamp was ok, so I don't have to go buy a light) and let me go. He was actually very nice considering he had to deal with my bemused smile through the whole ordeal, but the situation amused me immensely.

It's not everyday you get pulled over. It's not everyday you get pulled over in front of your house. And it's certainly not everyday you get pulled over on a bicycle. Combine all three and there I am sitting on my bike bathed in spotlights with red and blue lights flashing off my neighbor's houses while they peek out their windows at me. Smile and nod, smile and nod.

Thy Despot's Heal is on Thy Shore

I'm visiting my home state of Maryland this week, and I have to say we have by far the best flag in the union. I'd long known it to be the combination of the Maryland founder's crests, but it wasn't until this afternoon that I stumbled across the rest of the story.

As it turns out our state flag, like our state song (a rehashing of O' Tannenbaum or as my Uncle sings, "Oh, Maryland, Oh Maryland, how lovely are thy branches") harkens back to the days when Maryland was forcibly held in the Union. I could tell the tale in detail, but I think the state song does it far more colorfully in, "Huzza! she spurns the Northern scum!"

Maryland My Maryland
Written by James Ryder Randall

The despot's heel is on thy shore,
Maryland, My Maryland!
His torch is at thy temple door,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Avenge the patriotic gore
That flecked the streets of Baltimore,
And be the battle queen of yore,
Maryland! My Maryland!

Hark to an exiled son's appeal,
Maryland, My Maryland!
My Mother State! to thee I kneel,
Maryland, My Maryland!
For life and death, for woe and weal,
Thy peerless chivalry reveal,
And gird they beauteous limbs with steel,
Maryland! My Maryland!

Thou wilt not cower in the dust,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Thy beaming sword shall never rust,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Remember Carroll's sacred trust,
Remember Howard's warlike thrust,-
And all they slumberers with the just,
Maryland! My Maryland!

Come! 'tis the red dawn of the day,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Come with thy panoplied array,
Maryland, My Maryland!
With Ringgold's spirit for the fray,
With Watson's blood at Monterey,
With fearless Lowe and dashing May,
Maryland! My Maryland!

Come! for thy shield is bright and strong,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Come! for thy dalliance does thee wrong,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Come! to thine own heroic throng,
Stalking with Liberty along,
And cgive a new Key to thy song,
Maryland! My Maryland!

Dear Mother! burst the tyrant's chain,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Virginia should not call in vain!
Maryland, My Maryland!
She meets her sisters on the plain-
"Sic semper!" 'tis the proud refrain
That baffles minions back amain,
Maryland! My Maryland!

I see the blush upon thy cheek,
Maryland, My Maryland!
For thou wast ever bravely meek,
Maryland, My Maryland!
But lo! There surges forth a shriek
From hill to hill, from creek to creek-
Potomac calls to Chesapeake,
Maryland! My Maryland!

Thou wilt not yield the vandal toll,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Thou wilt not crook to his control,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Better the fire upon thee roll,
Better the blade, the shot, the bowl,
Than crucifixion of the soul,
Maryland! My Maryland!

I hear the distant thunder-hum,
Maryland, My Maryland!
The Old Line's bugle, fife, and drum,
Maryland, My Maryland!
She is not dead, nor deaf, nor dumb-
Huzza! she spurns the Northern scum!
She breathes! she burns! she'll come! she'll come!
Maryland! My Maryland!

The flag is in fact a post-civil war compromise between the Calvert yellow and black which came to symbolize union stewardship over Maryland, and the red and white cross bottony which was worn by Maryland Confederate troops at a time when red and white were synonymous with Confederate sympathies. In fact, the original Crossland Crest is a red and silver cross bottony, not red and white.

This flag made it's first appearance in 1888, when the Maryland National Guard carried it at the dedication ceremonies for the Maryland monument at the Gettysburg Battlefield. The Fifth Regiment adopted it shortly thereafter.

From the Maryland State Department:

The adoption of this new flag by the Fifth Regiment helped popularize the design. The Fifth was the largest component of Maryland's military after 1870, and it played a conspicuous part in major public events both in and out of the state. Organized in May 1867, the Fifth Regiment was the successor organization to the Old Maryland Guard, a military unit formed in Baltimore in 1859 that dissolved when most of its officers and men went south in 1861 to join the Confederate Army. More

What I Learned in my Crawlspace

I was innocently doing laundry Saturday morning when I first noticed the smell. At first I just thought Kootenai had a bad case of gas (she can clear a room quick on a good day). But then it didn't go away.

Entering my front bathroom I discovered excrement had filled my bathtub. The shower down the hall enjoyed the same fate. Delightful.

Some spelunking in the crawlspace led to the discovery of a wet spot in middle of the newest addition. Some pulaski digging under constrained conditions quickly yielded a nest of roots, a half dozen of which had a circumference that surpassed the thick end of a baseball bat some 15' from the nearest foundation wall. This is not good.

As it turned out when they built the last addition in the 1970s they decided to forgo any kind of coupler and just butted the new plastic pipe up to the old cement sewer line. Naturally, the trees were big fans of this year-round nutrient and water source.

But why stay just on the outside of the pipe when you can slip your way in and access solid material as well? And there was my problem.

Digging out the pipe and disconnecting it revealed a 12' long solid section of tree roots saturated in excrement. Now that's delightful. Especially delightful when removing this clog lets loose all the material behind it. And even more delightful when you realize the ramifications. You get to carry two gallon bucket after two gallon bucket of feces through an obstacle course of wires, pipes and cement walls to the backyard. At times the passage is less than 18" high. That's the way to spend a Saturday.

Of course no plumbing problem is ever simple, so naturally I had to wait until Monday for indoor plumbing since the connection from plastic to cement pipes requires a custom fitting that only the special plumbing supply store carries.



Top Ten Things I Learned From This Job

10.) A great appreciation for indoor plumbing.

9.) A modified bleach bottle makes a really good pooper scooper.

8.) Trees really, really like a constant supply of moisture and nutrients.

7.) Dogs and buckets of feces don't mix.

6.) My gag reflex is even better than I thought.

5.) Excrement turns black in sewer pipes (why would that be?)

4.) Exactly what happens when I flush the toilet or wash dishes.

3.) If you have to fix a sewer pipe, at least make sure you know the person intimately, for if not, you soon will.

2.) Who are my friends (after I asked to use their shower.)

1.) Why an exposed crack doesn't bother plumbers in the grand scheme of things.

The Red State Blues

It was a bittersweet victory for progressives in Idaho. We took control of the House, and it appears we may have control of the Senate as well, but Idaho's Democratic candidates did not fare so well.

In the 1st Congressional District we had a very strong contender in Larry Grant. His contender, Bill Sali is one of the most conservative members of the Idaho legislature. During an argument on the floor this year Idaho House Speaker Bruce Newcomb of Burley, a Republican, was quoted saying, "That idiot (Sali) is just an absolute idiot. He doesn’t have one ounce of empathy in his whole fricking body. And you can put that in the paper."

Sali won last night by 10,000+ votes.

U.S. House - District 1 - 452 of 470 Precincts Reporting
 Name                 Party    Votes   Pct
 Sali, Bill           GOP    111,669 50.04
 Grant, Larry         Dem     99,687 44.67
 Olson, Dave          Ind      6,592  2.95
 Hedden-Nicely, Andy  UNT      2,823  1.27
 Smith, Paul          CST      2,379  1.07

U.S. House - District 2 - 428 of 482 Precincts Reporting
 Name                 Party    Votes   Pct
 Simpson, Mike        GOP    115,410 62.76
 Hansen, Jim          Dem     61,629 33.51
 Forth, Cameron       Ind      4,568  2.48
 Hedrick, Travis      CST      2,298  1.25

And we had a good shot at the Governorship as well and lost that too. All told the race was much closer than usual in this very red state.

Governor - 880 of 952 Precincts Reporting
 Name                 Party    Votes   Pct
 Otter, C.L. Butch    GOP    218,750 53.19
 Brady, Jerry         Dem    179,365 43.61
 Richardson, Marvin   CST      6,585  1.60
 Dunlap, Ted          Lib      6,582  1.60

There were small victories. State Representative District 17B, the district I worked heavily in 2 years ago to win for Sean Spence and ended up loosing by 7 votes, Sue Chew won easily for the Democrats. We picked up several House seats around Boise.

And we are progressive in one key important backward way. We don't have electronic voting machines! We even have hundreds of people manually checking the ballots for hanging chads! How hip is that?

In fact, many things about Idaho remained constant:

• We hate gays. HJR2 added even more wording around marriage to a code that already forbid gay marriage in Idaho. Some day our children will look back at laws like this with the same disgust we view slavery, suffrage and racism.


• We hate taxes. Proposition 1 failed, which attempted to direct fund exclusively to public education. Funding education!? My word! What a waste of our tax dollars educating our youth!


• We hate outsiders. A campaign funded by a wealthy New York lawyer to rewrite takings laws and negate zoning failed to pass (this is the one good thing in this list).


• We're stupid. Idaho voters gave their support through an advisory vote for Jim Risch's move to transfer property taxes to sales taxes. This results of course, for everyone who isn't a millionaire vast increases in taxes. But with some careful wording Idaho voters were too stupid to realize that "property tax relief" only applied to Potlatch and Simplot.

To wrap-up, Idahoans confirmed that they are homophobic, taxophobic, xenophobic and downright stupid. But alas, hope springs from the most unlikely of fountains. From the New York Times this morning:

New York Plans to Make Gender Personal Choice
Article Tools Sponsored By
By DAMIEN CAVE
Published: November 7, 2006

Separating anatomy from what it means to be a man or a woman, New York City is moving forward with a plan to let people alter the sex on their birth certificate even if they have not had sex-change surgery.

Under the rule being considered by the city’s Board of Health, which is likely to be adopted soon, people born in the city would be able to change the documented sex on their birth certificates by providing affidavits from a doctor and a mental health professional laying out why their patients should be considered members of the opposite sex, and asserting that their proposed change would be permanent.

Applicants would have to have changed their name and shown that they had lived in their adopted gender for at least two years, but there would be no explicit medical requirements.
More (after advert splash)

Here's the loophole my gay and lesbian friends. (I know, I know, it requires one of you reverse gender. So it's a little complicated, sorry about that.)

But wouldn't it be worth it to apply for a marriage license in Idaho?

After all, you would legally be a man and a woman. Married in what our newly-elected Governor triumphantly labeled this morning, "The reddest of the Red States."

'Weener Wrap-Up

Halloween. Two costumes, three nights, six parties. The highlight reel:

Caesar Salad prepped for the H3 Halloween Ball


Decorating pumpkins. Some use finger paint, some use knives...


Real men use power tools


Carving Party Ignited, sawzaw creation lower right


Stand back landlubbers, Mer-Man is ready to hit the town

Wolves on a Plane

The sequel to Snakes on a Plane landed in my inbox this morning. Wolves on a Wilderness Area! Who would expect it? Not the Forest Service or the SNRA apparently.

Idaho Mountain Express, Ketchum
Wednesday October 11 2006

Wolf howls prompt wilderness evacuation
Frightened Forest Service employees extracted

by STEVE BENSON

Two U.S. Forest Service employees from Utah were evacuated by helicopter from the Sawtooth Wilderness in late September after encountering a pack of howling wolves about five miles east of Graham in the Johnson Creek drainage.

Johnson Creek is the southwestern portion of the Sawtooths and in the North Fork of the Boise River drainage.

According to Ed Waldapfel, spokesman for the Sawtooth National Forest, the incident occurred Sept. 23 at about 10 a.m. when the employees observed wolves chasing a bull elk across a meadow.

"A little while later they started hearing wolves howling all around them," Waldapfel said. "They called on their radio or satellite phone and asked their supervisor if they could leave the area."

Waldapfel said the employees, whose names he did not know, were from the Rocky Mountain Research Station in Ogden and were conducting forest inventory work in the Sawtooths, began hiking back to their camp a couple miles away. But they claimed the howls persisted, Waldapfel said.

"No matter which way they went they said they could hear the wolves," he added. "They climbed onto a rock outcropping and continued to communicate with their supervisor.

"They admitted they were very scared and wanted to get out of the area."

Shortly thereafter, Waldapfel said the employees' supervisor contacted the Sawtooth National Forest and "asked for a helicopter to come in and retrieve them."

Waldapfel said the wolves never made any aggressive or threatening moves toward the pair.

"It was the sound of the howls that scared them," Waldapfel said, "and the fact (the employees) were from another part of the country. They're not part of our regular workforce and so they hadn't had training for this kind of wildlife encounter."

Steve Nadeau, the state's wolf program supervisor for the Idaho Department of Fish and Game, was shocked that wolf howls would elicit a helicopter evacuation in a wilderness area.

"Holy moly—sounds to me like someone's read too many of Grimm's fairy tales," Nadeau said. "I'm flabbergasted that (the Forest Service) would go to that extent over wolves howling in the woods because wolves howl in the woods all the time. That's how they communicate.

"If they felt threatened I guess the Forest Service reacted appropriately. But I can't imagine why the feeling was any more than anyone else walking in the woods."

Lynne Stone, a Stanley resident who regularly observes wolf behavior in the backcountry, said when wolves howl "the echo can come from 360 degrees."

"Especially up in the mountains, where there's a lot of rock, there are great wolf-howl acoustics," she said. "They probably weren't surrounded by wolves."

Stone, who has observed wolves in the mountains around Stanley on 17 different occasions since the spring, said wolves are very focused during a hunt, and the Forest Service employees were not in any danger.

"When wolves are hunting they are on target. They will be oblivious to you," she said. "I'd be more afraid of running into a moose cow with calves, or a black bear with cubs, than encountering howling wolves.

"These guys were not at risk, and it's too bad they didn't take time to enjoy one of the greatest experiences you could ever have in terms of observing wildlife."

Waldapfel said seeing and hearing wolves in the backcountry in the Sawtooth and Boise national forests is not uncommon.

"But for someone from another state or another area where they don't have wolves, I could see where it could be a very frightening experience," he said.

While there are no documented cases of wolves attacking humans in Idaho, Waldapfel acknowledged "these employees probably were not aware of that fact."

Waldapfel said the Sawtooth National Forest will review its training procedures to better prepare out-of-area Forest Service personnel for what they may encounter while in the field.

"We'll spend some time this fall and winter reviewing our current procedures," he said.

The Utah employees were flown to Ketchum after boarding the helicopter. A Forest Service crew returned to the scene to break down their camp and retrieve their gear Sept. 25.

[source: http://www.mtexpress.com/index2.php?issue_date=10-11-2006&ID=2005112785]

Nadeau said it, "Holy-moly!", though "Snakes on a Plane!" or "Wolves on a Ski Lift!" may have been more apropos.

[source: SnakesOnABlog.com]

This is sad. The Forest Service and the SNRA should be embarrassed.

America has not had a documented wolf-induced human fatality and the majority of wolf attacks are the result of human habituation.
[source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wolf#Historical_perceptions]