basic instructions

re-blog from a site called Basic Instructions.

Fantastic.

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Feeling blue

There was a bit of fanfare related to the full moon on August 31. It was the second full moon to grace our north american skies in the month of August.

Many people referred to this phenomenon by the name “blue moon.” This name was popularized to its modern definition in the early 80’s when a widely listened to radio program used bad information from an astronomy magazine (Sky and Telescope) published in the 40’s. That magazine had incorrectly interpreted a centuries old naming cycle presented in the Maine Farmers’ Almanac. The almanac listed moon names by season with the year divided into our familiar quarters as per the table below.

Positional name Associated Month English name
Early Winter January Wolf Moon
Mid Winter February Snow Moon
Late Winter March Storm Moon
Early Spring April Seed Moon
Mid Spring May Milk Moon
Late Spring June Mead Moon
Early Summer July Hay Moon
Mid Summer August Corn Moon
Late Summer September Harvest Moon
Early Fall October Hunter Moon
Mid Fall November Beaver Moon
Late Fall December Oak Moon

As the lunar cycle puts full moons about 29.5 days apart, having two in one month doesn’t happen too often. It happens only seven times every nineteen years.

Farmers were not the first to notice this and have the need for creative accounting. I’ll get back to them in a bit. First the source of the name: “blue moon”.

A month with two moons has been a source of centuries long havoc in christian mythologies. The dates for easter (the death and resurrection of jesus), were set by the council of Nicea in 325 CE as the first Sunday after the full moon following the northern hemisphere’s vernal equinox. Unfortunately they didn’t account for (or perhaps they rejected) the millennia old geometric calculations showing equinox varies from March 19-21 (usually 20). Instead the church fixed the date of the equinox to March 21. In addition, they were still using the Julian calendar which overestimates the length of our year by eleven minutes. And so, for the about a thousand years, the calendar date of the equinox slipped bit-by-bit. By the time Pope Gregory tried to fix things in 1582 CE with his humbly named “Gregorian calendar” the equinox had slipped to March 11.

In the intervening 1200 years, it was important to be celebrating moon-centric christian holidays on the correct days. When an inconvenient full moon would mess with the math it would simply be declared a “betrayer moon” by the clergy or, in the vernacular of the day, a “belewe moon”. It first showed up in print around 1524 CE.

So now we have a name. Back to the farmers and their almanac. When a year would have 13 moons, that extra one had to fit into their neat and orderly table somehow. The formula was simple and less subject to papal confusions. Each season typically has three moons, each with a name. If a season has four moons, the third of four becomes the “blue moon” and nothing else changes.

The 40’s era magazine article misinterpreted this to mean that the second moon in a month would be a blue moon and that got popularized.

Our “blue moon” on August 31 actually fits both criteria so you can stop worrying that you looked silly for celebrating it. Unless you live east of GMT+10:30. Then the full moon didn’t actually happen on August 31, it happened on September 1. You had the old school blue moon, but your new age blue moon will happen on September 30.

Anyone up for a trip down under to take in some double blue month action?

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A death leads to a murder

image

This photo was taken this afternoon in horseshoe bay. The crow laying on the ground took an electrical arc to the head, hit the ground with a thud (2 meters from me), had one final twitch, then lay still. That was the sad or tragic part I bore witness to. What followed was cool.

The nearby crows began cawing with fervor. Over the course of the next five minutes the noise grew as they alighted nearly every available perch: power lines, trees, sign posts, etc. The sound grew in magnitude. I described the prologue to a confused group dining on the patio near where I stood and a gentleman likened it to a celebration of life. It felt more like a wake.

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“the people have spoken”

 

The contest has closed and results are in. Thanks to everyone who help me split the odds and and peel across the finish in style. After such an exhausting race I think I will stay in bread until sundae.

 

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the thistle and the damage undone

Somewhere in the back of my mind I had a fragment of arcane (our-kaan ?) knowledge suggesting there was some kind of antidote for stinging nettles that grew along side them.   A web search for nettle antidotes revealed nothing interesting and I dismissed it as transplanted knowledge (like, maybe I was thinking of poison ivy or something).

After my mummy saw the still-healing nettle scars on my legs Wednesday she name-dropped the antidote I was looking for. She didn’t know what it looked like but the internet sure does.

image from Wikipedia

Burdock is not only reputed to be an effective cure for nettle stings but I remember seeing it! It is a thistle. Indeed it is THE thistle I was remarking on in my post about cutting through the nettles!

Burdock is only prickly on its stem and flowers (it inspired velcro!). The flat broad leaves are the antidote. Break off a chunk, chew it up, and rub the resulting mash on the nettle sting.

The scientist/skeptic in me has a desire to test this using a fresh treated sting and a fresh nearby control sting.

As a bonus, the tap root is an edible vegetable (apparently similar to plantains).

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is that a banana in your cape?

Fairtrade Canada is running a photo contest for “best banana” this month. A photo of me at the Vancouver Sun Run, complete with cape, seems to be in second place at the moment. I am not sure what the prize is for most votes. I hope it is street cred. One can never have too much of that.

The photo in the contest is much less racy than photos of me at most other running events; I am wearing a mostly-full-body banana suit rather than my purple booty shorts. It IS a rather tight suit though…

Lay down your vote here and push me into first place!

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planking

I recommend you use the power of HD to enjoy this microscopic explosim of life in a tea spoon of healthy sea water. This is the stuff eaten by blue wales.

The creature shown around 4:19, Phronima, was once featured on blue planet where David Attenborough gives it credit for inspiring the egg laying Xenomorph (or, taxonomically, “xeno regina“)  that Sigourney Weaver uses to make a meatloaf in the film Aliens.

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accountability

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…

I was doing a fundraiser in support of the Water and Sanitation work underway by Engineers Without Borders in Malawi. As part of that, I committed to running a kilometer for each dollar donated in my name. I started this blog to document that endeavor. I ran off about half the distance before the race as part of my training and remained committed to running the rest after the race. Various excuses (and plenty of lack-of-excuses) have contributed to the absence of focus on getting to the end of this, however my resolve has not wavered. Most of my running this summer has been during games of ultimate.

A pleasant run along the beaches of Vancouver with my new roomie on Thursday puts me just over 70% done running the kilometers I have committed to.

I am ready for a run in purple. Name the day Doug. You own kilometers 447 through 496.

Posted in Commitment, EWB, R2EP | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

two out of three ain’t bad

This weekend featured another hike into the unknown. Reconnaissance for this trip was done one year ago. At that time I did not know where I was; I later learned it was Mt Cheam.

Saturday morning, Kat and I set out to find out what lay beyond my prior turn-around point. My real hope was that we would find a route up the north side of Mt Cheam. I had read reports that efforts to find such a route are rarely undertaken and even more rarely successful. The route began just as I had remembered. We forged our way upward passing several familiar land marks.

This is a terrible photo. I made it small to hide how bad it is. The one I took last visit was way better.

woo, falls

One difference from last time is that I brought a GPS thinger with full bateries this time. And we had flagging tape to mark our route whenever we wanted to leave little clues for our future selves.

After reaching the shelf where I turned around last time, we began the journey North East along that narrow plateau. It was thick with devils club and occasional nettles – but far fewer nettles than we found in Stein or on my last visit here. I brought the machete once again and put it to immediate use. Hacking through devils club is much more difficult than other vegetation because its stems harden into a woody material as they age. I slashed at them and they slashed back. My right forearm got scraped up substantially. Wrapping several layers of cloth around my arm served as a somewhat effective armor. After a couple of hours foraging horizontally along what we presumed to be an old, overgrown logging road, our journey reached a rather abrupt end. We reached a substantial flow of water with slippery rocks and a large bushy cliff beyond. We turned around and came back down.

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the eighth day

Sunday Dave and I hiked Elf Peak in Stein Valley Nlaka’Pamux Heritage Park. From the parked car, the trip took about nine and a half hours (including stops for food and enjoying the view at the top). Here is the route we took on a google map.

The reconnaissance trip two weeks ago proved useful. (Click here for a view of Elf from that trip.) The path Kat and I carved through the brush on that trip was substantially intact for this trip. Dave and I had a proper machete with us making it a bit easier to open a hole where we needed one.

Dave contrasts my machete from two weeks ago with the one we used this weekend

To get past the alder stands on the old logging road, Kat and I had tried two different paths. Both were shit. On this trip Dave and I decided to try going up and over them on the hill side. That turned out to also be shit. We had trouble finding our “up and over” route during our return and wasted a bunch of time foraging in the woods. I expect we could just have quickly punched right through the middle of the dense brush without climbing the steep bank. Lesson observed.

Near the end of the woods we made a grizzly discovery: we are not alone in the world. We had already been in loud-noises mode for a little while and saw no other substantial evidence of the beast.

Maybe that is a midget’s hand used as comparison suggesting we are only facing off against a midget grizzly bear?

From the car park (elev. ~1515 m) to the end of forest (elev. ~1629 m) is around 5-5.5 km walking  south east. At the edge of the woods, the valley ends abruptly and a mountain pass lies before us. We ascended to the north east toward the large knob on the west ridge of Elf Peak.

Standing in Van Horlick Pass, the slopes of Elf Peak loom before us

Taking a break atop the knob before our push to the peak

We took a break on the knob to recharge and plan the next phase of our assault. We devised a route and pressed on up the steep slopes. After excreting a substantial amount of sweat, we finally crested the top ridge. A short jaunt to the east brought us to the summit at 2337 m. The view every direction was rad. We could see down the Scudamore Divide, the entire North Stein River all the way to its confluence with the Stein River just east of Stein Lake. 12 km to the North East was Gott Peak at the entrance to Blowdown Pass. Across the Van Horlick Pass to the South West was Gideon Peak and the spot Kat and I had lunched only two weeks prior.

360 degree view from the summit

On the way down Unnecessary Knob I used my compass and a makeshift plum-bob to measure slope angle. This was substantially motivate by a recent text message from Tess where she indicated her day had been spent fighting a forest fire on a 49 degree slope. Pretty baddass. Maybe too baddass. In order to demonstrate that I should still be eligible to play with her I felt I should offer some quantitative physical-prowess data, even if it was measured on improvised equipment. Our slope was only 40 degrees. And nothing was on fire. Maybe she will still hang out with me when she wants a break.

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