2011

2011 has been an amazing year, and I’m filled with gratitude. We’ve had some really good times with David and an intense family time in May. Leslie and I have traveled a lot, hung out together a lot – these are the days. Leslie is taking care of business. I’ve been baking and cooking some wonderful things (see below). I was able to backpack again(!) and am planning on going back into the mountains in 2012. Photos: Spring, Wind Rivers, San Francisco & home, CK’s SF trip, Trance & assorted, Thanksgiving

Next year we may need to slow down some.

Photo: Spring at our house

Part of retirement has been (thus far) a marked reduction in time and effort in helping others. Leslie is doing a big job with someone who has pancreatic cancer and other serious problems and I’ve been helping some with that, but she’s doing most of the work. Maybe we’ll get back to those sorts of things further down the road; maybe not. Maybe our race is run and it’s goodbye to all that.

Our house smells like coffee every day. Some days it smells like coffee and chocolate, some days like garlic and chilies, some days like cookies and hot chocolate, some days like curry and chutney, some days like bread coming crusty and brown hot off the stone and out of the oven.

January – We traveled for about 8 weeks in Cali and SE Asia with David (the trip started 11/2010 and ended 1/2011).

Photo: Junior wren – her or his first day to fly

February – Arthroscopy knee.

March – Cali (Oakland & SF) – some good times.

April – I went to Oklahoma to see Jeff for a couple of days – a good trip.

May – Berkeley for David’s graduation from Berkeley Law School (photo below). Congratulations! And talk about an intense family trip. What a great thing to have been there, then.

June – Deep in the Heart of Trances (photo below), which was wonderful and Sonic Bloom, which wasn’t. Deep in the Heart felt like coming home; Leslie to San Francisco to spend a week with David.

July – Rest. LOL, after I wrote “Rest” I quit working @ the Agape Clinic – differences in values. I’m fully retired. What a wonderful career and what a wonderful time working with Leslie.

August – Full Moon party @ Armadillo Acres; backpacking in the Wind Rivers, into the alpine and the incomparable Titcomb Basin, again! Past the trees, into the alpine, rock and snow, water and tundra, high and wild and beautiful

September – Many days August and September over 100o; Leslie to SF for a week with DK and at Holden’s; David home for a few days; CK to SF for a week, staying with DK.

Photo: David after receiving his diploma

October – We had a brilliant trip to SF and Berkeley – saw David, 4 days at Grant in Chinatown and 4 days at Judy’s guesthouse in Berkeley (Leslie got us $99 RT tix DFW-SFO – we had to go); party near Austin.

November – Soul Rise, a perfect psytrance gathering in the Hill Country – good times with Loyed, Melvin, Roberto, Devon, Derick, Chris, and others; I reached my goal of doing the same # push-ups as my age: 67; to San Francisco for a great Thanksgiving with David.

December – home from SF, getting ready for SF and Asia.

Some of what I’ve cooked in the past several years is listed below. Baking has been a wonderful experience:

Flour in the air!

Flour in my hair!

Flour on my nose, ears,

Flour everywhere!

Photo: One of my campsites in the Winds

Mains & related

Tomato basil soup

Bun cha

Chili

Grilled chicken (Cajun, jerk, curry)

Spaghetti/marinara/putanesca

Pesto

Tom ka

Tom yum

Avocado salad

Poulet Marengo

Stuffed chicken breast

Mushroom soup

Lahb

Crostinis a la Leslie + pesto, kalamatas, other

Goan curry

Tikka masala

Chutneys

Raita

Assorted dehydrated things

Photo: The bench in front of the Star Grocery – where we sit to have morning coffee in Berkeley

Breads

Whole wheat bread from Tassajara

Biscuits

Batards and Boules from Acme Bread Co. recipes

No-knead bread


Country French sourdough

Sourdough and yeasted breads with cheese, kalamata, herbs

Photo: Sunday morning at Deep in the Heart of Trances

Desserts

Pecan pie from Cook’s Illus.

Pecan pie (chocolate/bourbon), whipped cream

Toasted pecans

Nutella

Banana pancakes

Hot chocolate

Chocolate pie almond crust

Pecan sandies

French toast with eggnog

Honey bars from Tassajara

Apple cobbler

Banana nut bread

Orange marmalade

Madeleines

Pear, strawberry preserves

Chocolate chunk pecan cookies

Brownies

Ice cream (chocolate, vanilla, pistachio)

Oatmeal-raisin-walnut cookies

Triple chocolate cookies

Chocolate pecan torte

Photos: Above is of peach blossoms and below is whole wheat bread and some oatmeal cookies

San Francisco and Berkeley

San Francisco, Berkeley, war story, psytrance. Photos have become difficult to insert in this blog, so I’m putting a couple in and the rest (a few of home, most of SF & Berkeley) are here: https://picasaweb.google.com/109537175190450928722/2011OctoberHomeSF

Another Bay area visit – a few nights in San Francisco and a few in Berkeley. We stayed at the Grant in Chinatown. I was sitting in the bay windows (room 501) overlooking the street and remarked to Leslie that it feels normal to be sitting here, overlooking Grant Avenue, the main (tourist) street in Chinatown. We spent a fair amount of time on Stockton, the next street up with all the grocery stores/shoppers, dim sum joints, BBQ places, etc. We had dim sum about twice a day

while we were here. As always we took the bus, trolley, etc. all over creation.

When we were checking in at the Grant a woman gave Leslie two passbooks which allowed us to ride everything but BART for free – including the cable cars. So instead of the already very cheap senior rates on everything it was all free. We made it to Chinatown, the Tenderloin for curry at Shalimar (where I saw a man smoking crack at a bus stop – the same bus stop where I saw someone selling it last trip – I need to find another stop), the Castro, Haight/Golden Gate Park, Embarcadero (where Occupy SF was set up – buncha hippies who just don’t get it that it’s a good thing to take money from old people, cut back on veteran’s benefits, tax the middle class at higher rates than the rich, etc., Lord, Lord, someone is crazy here and it’s not me), Richmond to the Pacific, all over the place.

We spent several days hanging out with David and his friend, Charles and that was wonderful. We also saw Dave’s roommate, Matt, which was also good.

Notes from a day: Dim sum for breakfast at You’s (photo above), stop in assorted Chinese grocery and other stores selling mysterious things, take the bus to the Japanese dollar store, take the trolley to an art deco store, take the trolley to the Castro for a visit to a natural foods store, walk around the neighborhood, take the bus back to the trolley, trolley to Ferry Building, bus to so on and so forth. Photo: Our room at the Grant – $75/night.

So that’s kind of the story of how we travel – hanging out, walking, riding, resting, ride some more, walking…

From SF we went to Berkeley – a garden city, so many houses are true gems. We stayed in a guesthouse (Shout Out for Judy’s Channing GH – review follows). For $50 night, shared bath, kitchen to hang out in, good vibes, good times.

This is my Yelp review: Five stars for sure. The rooms are immaculate as are the shared bathroom and WC. Judy had fresh flowers in our room, a fresh bottle of water, and some chocolates. The kitchen is available and it’s very comfortable. We had breakfast and dinner there most nights (food from Berkeley Bowl – a 30 minute walk away). Good Lord, you can even go out back at Judy’s and check the chicken coop for fresh eggs! A washer and dryer are available and I think there is a TV available, but who needs it here? Internet access is fast and reliable. The garden is great – classic Berkeley, very inviting. The Berkeley Cafe Trieste is a few blocks away, as is Good V-V-V-Vibrations, Black Oak Books, an architectural salvage place (nice), and some upscale cafes. Bus stops are nearby, but we’ve always thought Berkeley bus routes are confusing. Yet, we got back every day. Finally, it’s nice to do business with a truly good person. So yes, it’s a very good place and a good deal.

We did the usual – bus to Elmwood, the UC Cal campus, I met an internet friend on Telegraph, sat at the entrance to Sproul Plaza (Shout Out for Free Speech), and of course Leslie and I took the bus to Oakland, for, what else, dim sum.

Leslie got a call early this morning from someone who had read some of my things on the internet. It was from the older brother of one of the men who was killed in our unit in Vietnam – one of our first men killed. I ended up standing outside our little dim sum place in Oakland talking with this man on the phone – pretty hard to hold it together for both of us I think. I’ve gotten several calls like this in the past few years. So sad. This man told me how he’d enlisted after his brother was killed. Went to the infantry, but because of the death of his brother, wasn’t in combat. Incredibly he spent a year with a primary duty of being one of the men who informs families that their loved one was killed.

———————————–

I posted this on facebook a few weeks ago … There was a levain (pre-ferment) working in the kitchen for some sourdough bread and I was sitting on the floor in the front room, using a mortar and pestle to grind some seeds for a Goan curry and I was thinking, “I must be retired.” I got all inspired and here’s what I baked and cooked these past few days: Country French sourdough (plain and with cheese and Hatch chillis), whole wheat bread from the Tassajara Bread Book, triple chocolate cookies (the real deal – oh man!), Goan shrimp curry (brilliant), chicken tikka, tikka masala curry (okay, not great), raita, grilled CM sausage, and grilled Hatch chillis. I am retired and the house smells good. And since then, mango chutney (2 batches), cilantro chutney, and karahi potatoes.

————————————

Before the SF trip, I went to a psytrance festival with friends from Dallas and Oklahoma. I was there for three days, camping in the hill country. A beautiful time. http://soundcloud.com/eckoe/drift

The Charles Kemp Award for Excellence in Community Health

When I started at the Agape Clinic it was a one day/week treat ‘em and street ‘em clinic with a vaccination program. Leslie and I were responsible (i.e., none of this would have happened without us) for the clinic expanding to four days of services/week including expanded primary care and providing a medical home for people without insurance. There were specialty services (gynecology, psychiatry, neurology, dermatology, etc.), health education (in the clinic and community), health screening (cancer, depression, etc.), and other services. The clinic was in excellent financial shape (in at least the top 12% of US non-profits according to figures in the New York Times, 3/26/2009) and the clinic had been presented at a number of national conferences and was the subject of articles and chapters in professional and lay publications. There was a spirit of kindness toward patients, volunteers, and staff – that spirit and the clinic were described by the clinic psychiatrist as “a collective.” To me it was more than a collective – it was a living manifestation of hope and loving kindness. We were taking the word agape seriously. Photo: Leslie in her natural habitat. I’m there too. From an article in the the Advocate.

Some months ago I was approached by leadership at Agape about the establishment of an annual named award commemorating my service to Agape and the community – something along the lines of the Charles Kemp Award for Excellence or Compassionate Service in Community Health. Though I’ve received awards in the past, it had never occurred to me that an ongoing award would be named for me.

It was tempting, but eventually I declined the award – in part because I’m not into that sort of thing (awards are nice, but sometimes there’s something else to give), but primarily because there are vast differences in values between the current clinic leadership (including the board of directors) and me.

Wind Rivers, 2011

This blogger program is a problem. When I add photos I also get sentences and words fragmented. I give up. Here are the words & a few photos from the Wind River Mountains 2011. The photos are in Picasa here: https://picasaweb.google.com/109537175190450928722/2011WindRivers

I started Monday morning and drove north on 35 through Oklahoma and into Kansas, then west on 70. Stopped for the night in Hays KS and on into Colorado (see the sunflower fields stretching yellow along the highway). At some point in Colorado I talked with Leslie who told me she’d talked with my professional liability agent re not renewing my insurance and I’m thinking, Oh, but a few miles up the road I began to experience feelings of freedom – the loss and the gain and now the unmistakable intro to Dark Star.

Along the road, It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue. Closing my good eye so I won’t see the sign that says I’m another 8 or 10 miles closer to Limon. Thinking of Leslie – I don’t know, maybe it was the roses, the roses or the ribbons, in her long brown

hair. And finally, way off in the distance, the mountains and closer, the snow high up on the mountains. Past Denver, past Fort Collins, 287 north into Wyoming. Spent the night in Laramie and on the road early, seeing magical words and places from my youth – the Snowy Mountains, Medicine Bow River – seeing snow fences in the morning sun. After Rock Springs it’s 98 miles to Pinedale, with the snowy peaks to the east, on the my right. Am I really going up there into the snow and ice! Photo: Camp in Titcomb Basin

I stopped in at the big general store and called Leslie one last time before I turned off the phone and drove up Skyline Drive to Elkhart Park TH. I was saddled up (for you DK) and on the trail by noon.

Day 1. The first hour I stopped four times briefly and then took a 5 minute rest. The second hour I stopped three times. After that I don’t know – it’s all woods for the first few miles. I was happy to pass Miller Park, a large meadow a few miles in. I’d slept there once before on the way out and was thinking I might stay there this time on the way in.

But I was doing fine and continued on to Photographer’s Point. Before I got there I met an older couple who said they’ve spent a lot of time in the Winds. The man told me they were on the way out as they’d seen a small grizzly (oooo – scary word to write sitting in a tent in a wooded area – I’m serious) and opined that the mother was nearby.

I’m camped by Barbara Lake – too close to the trail and the lake, but the bear thing is on my mind and I don’t want to be back away from where I would be found if there were problems. I’m at 10,000 feet now – a gain of ~9,250 feet from Dallas. It took me two hours

to set up camp – tent up, pump water, inside of tent set up, not eat (I had

a Snickers ~2:30), food hung, protein drink made and cooling in the lake for breakfast tomorrow. I think I’m stronger than I was two years ago, but the altitude really gets to me. Haha, a chipmunk just startled me scuffling around the tent, then the chittering – ah, that’s good to hear. The guidebook called this part of the trail “arduous.” Photo: Weasel on the hunt

Day 2. I slept from 8:30-6:30 and lay in my tent until 7. I guess I was tired. Breaking camp was slow and I was on the trail ~9. In ~30 minutes I got to a place where I’d camped before several times near an unnamed tarn in a little valley. Up, up, down, down, past Hobbs Lake. lots of trees, but some open areas, past Seneca Lake. Somewhere around there I talked with a man who said snow conditions are bad and that someone fell to his death yesterday on Gannett Peak. The understanding was that there was a father & son climbing together and that it was the son who fell. This was sobering on several levels and I decided to not try to repeat the epic trek of 2009 and instead, take the road more traveled and go to either Indian Pass or into Titcomb Basin.

The worst part of the day’s hike was a stretch of switchbacks up a dry, rocky area, sucking air, puff puff and finally over the top and into classic Winds terrain. I stopped in a timberline meadow, the same place Jeff and I had camped before and though I was again too close to the trail, this is where I stopped – wasted. I collapsed for awhile, drank the last of my water and set off down the hill to pump some water. Uh-oh, the pumping got harder and harder. A clogged filter, no doubt and hard to fix where I was. Glad for my emergency bag, which includes iodine tablets and iodine taste neutralizer tabs. Back at the campsite

I got my tent up a little faster than last night. I crawled into the tent and lay there for awhile, nauseated, with a headache, like I said, wasted. Last night I didn’t eat anything and tonight may be the same. BUT, I’m in sub-alpine meadows with granite domes and knobs and a lot of open areas and a few stands of trees and Titcomb Basin a few miles away.

So the first push is done and I’m in a place I love.

The mosquitoes are bad. I’m using 100% DEET and a head-net. I hike with the head-net pulled back and when I stop on one of my frequent rests, pull it back down over my face in the moment before they start to swarm. I try to get into the tent when the wind is blowing, hence less swarming. I open the netting fast, dive in, close it fast, lie there on my back watching for any that might have gotten in with me, and kill ‘em.

Day 3. I hiked from that good campsite past Island Lake with some dismayingly steep downhills (USMC doctrine: He who humps down must hump up.). When I got to the Indian Pass cut-off I thought, hmmm, uphill all the way, and so headed up the +/- level trail into Titcomb Basin, “a sight that will haunt you forevermore” (from Great Adventure Treks of the World). I didn’t

get as far into the basin as Jeff and I got, but here I am hidden away in a small grassy area among the granite domes and knobs with the stark basin before me. I’m still not feeling great, but not as bad as the two previous evenings and here I am, at last. It’s all above timberline now.

I didn’t eat lunch today as even a Snickers or granola sounded unappetizing to say the least; gross to say the most. Dinner was ½ packet of IDAHOAN mashed potatoes (In case you haven’t tried them, a great freezer bag dish.), pepper jack cheese, dried focaccia (another break-through item), and some bacon from the Central Market salad bar.

Ahh, the sun just slipped over the peaks to the west and suddenly it’s cool and I feel good.

Overall, I’m happy with most of my decisions – to not try Knapsack Col alone again, that I hiked past Indian Basin and into Titcomb, and that I didn’t let the other people’s fear of a bear infect me. I don’t like my decision to leave my bear spray in the car to save weight (8oz).

Day 4. I was awake last night from ~2:30-4:30, awoke at 6:30, fell back asleep and woke at 8:30. Had some oatmeal and coffee for breakfast (almost everything sounds bad). I left my tent and all and hiked toward the back (north) of the basin. I met some guys from Pinedale, one of whom had a photo of a trout he’d caught – the biggest I’ve ever seen. One of the men had a pistol – a .45/410 – I want one!

What a place, so raw and wild and high. I hiked until the trail ran out and then followed the cairns across granite and tundra further up into the north of the basin. I passed where I came down Twins Glacier from Knapsack Col in 2009 in what I realize ever more clearly was a high-water mark for me. I’m feeling tremendously grateful that I did that. I’m feeling like it was probably my last rodeo.

Across the tundra, granite slabs and domes, across snow patches and snow fields (but none steep or challenging) until I got to a larger snow field that I went part way across and when the effort increased, went back – back down through the crag encircled basin, through boulder fields and marshy meadows and crossing streams from 8” wide to 20’ wide, all rushing to join the bigger streams from the big glacier run-off, cascading in waterfalls, water slides, rushing streams down to the big one, a fast shallow river down into the highest Titcomb Lake and picking up the trail again, hiking alongside the lake. I stopped to talk with two women with a golden, who sat her big wet butt on my leg, then got up to shake off on me giving me sweet Goldie flashbacks. One of the women spotted a weasel in the rocks behind us which was cool, as I’ve never seen a weasel in the wild.

Back at my campsite I was thinking about people who played a part in me being here. I’m dedicating this hike to Dave (swimswithtrout) whose passion for the Winds shines through in his brilliant photos and his tireless encouragement of others. And also to Dorf, whose excellent trip reports have provided me with many hours of pleasure and whose report of Peak Lake over Knapsack Col showed me the way to go in 2009. And also to Joe (offtrail) who has been generous in his support and who is an inspiration. As night fell, a coyote howled from about 100 feet away, just on the other side of a granite knob. I thought at first (I hope I hope) it was a wolf, but it wasn’t.

For lunch I had ½ a granola bar and for dinner chipotle cream sauce with a little dehy burger, some pepper jack cheese, and a “hunger-grab” or something like that bag of nacho flavored Doritos. I ate the whole bag.

Animals I’ve seen: today a weasel, yesterday a rat swimming underwater in one of the beautiful little streams, chipmunks, pika, marmots, and from the highway, pronghorn antelope.

Day 5. It was raining early in the morning, but it slacked off ~8. I had a protein drink and granola bar for breakfast and was on the trail ~9:30, hiking out of Titcomb, sad that I will probably never see this place again and grateful that I got here in the first place. Remember the part about hiking down means hiking up? Near Island Lake I took a wrong (early) turn and hiked up that hill only to find the trail petering out at the top. Hmmm. I hiked back a bit and talked with some men from northern Virginia who told me I was on the way to Way Lake or something like that.

I hiked and hiked, past the Highline Trail, past Little Seneca Lake where I met a 69 YO man, so that was encouraging. Past Seneca Lake I was starting to get tired. For the whole trip I’ve been in a negative energy in/out balance. I had hoped to get to Hobbs Lake, but ran out of steam and stopped at the first decent water, a little jewel of an unnamed tarn by a little meadow where I did my afternoon sinking spell. My wrong turn and poor nutrition did me in.

Haha, I’ve ripped the seat of my trousers out again. Ridicerous. Every time I come here I tear up another pair. This time the seat was somewhat torn and then I ripped it all the way out while I was hanging my food and tumbled 30 feet down a steep slope. Whomp, I landed on the trail. Really ridicerous.

When I started this hike I was thinking in terms of a vision quest. The vision was of Leslie, seeing her true essence – not just the woman I love and her true nature, but her eternal self. I’ve never seen that before.

Day 6. Crying in the morning light. My beloved wife.

I tried something new: protein drink and a granola bar

for breakfast, and then I mixed up another serving of protein drink to carry. I had thought I might stop at Miller Park, but ~11:30 I downed that 2nd protein drink and was hiking strong. I talked again with the Polish couple (Andres and the woman had a difficult to pronounce name) I’d spent some time several times over the previous days. I also talked with Jeff and Jessie from Wichita KS who I had met on their way to Gannett, but with one of them feeling bad, had backed off the snow up to Bonney Pass. I blew on past Miller Park – I could smell the stable. The bad weather was settling in on the mountains and I hiked the last mile or so in the rain. Photo above: I camped by this tarn my last night

To the car, to Ridley’s General Store, and to the Wind

River Brewing Company for one of their brilliant burgers and fries. Ahhh. Ran into the young men from Pinedale I’d met at one of the Titcomb Lakes – and the Polish couple. A perfect ending. Photo: When in Walsenberg, I always stay at the Anchor.



Birds and the mountains calling

I’ve written before about how when we’re lying in bed we can see the bird feeder right outside the back window and 7 feet past that, the bird bath and behind/beside the bird bath is a big bush that’s undistinguished in terms of flowers, but is a major bird bush. Actually our entire yard, front and back, is a bird sanctuary. With all the bird-watching, squirrel studies (all squirrels are named Chubby), lizard updates (all named Mr. Green), various roses and other flowers coming into or going out of bloom, so on and so forth, it’s as if our lives inside our house extend to outside. Photo: Junior wren on the front porch – first day of flying

So many wonderful things …

The adolescent jay dive-bombing the feeder to bother the other birds.

Mr. and Mrs. C (the cardinals) are always first to the feeder, just as the sky begins to lighten.

The year before last a wren couple made their nest in our mailbox, so we closed the porch off. One day we found a tiny baby wren (no feathers, big head, totally helpless on the porch and put it back in the nest – which we confirmed later really is the best thing to do). When the junior wrens were ready to fly, they spent a few hours clinging to the brick, flying from wall to wall and away they flew. Photo: Junior wren on Phyllis’ house – first day of flying

Now there’s another wren nest in the ivy growing all around and on the front bathroom window overlooking the driveway. When a parent is on the way with food she or he calls in a kind of descending trill and the babies respond with the faintest of peeps that Leslie can hear, but I cannot. After the babies get their food there is complete quiet. I walked up on the porch a few days ago and there were two junior wrens on the porch. I got the camera and went to the driveway, where the juniors were practicing flying back and forth between Phyllis’ house and ours. A few juniors were around the next morning and by afternoon they were all gone. Photo: Junior wren on the feeder on the front room aircon – first day of flying

The “homeless birds” (drab-appearing cowbirds and grackles) are the most spectacular bathers, using their wings and tails to splash water everywhere. They crowd up – 6-8 of them on and in the birdbath.

Doves are a poor symbol of peace – they’re aggressive with other birds and among themselves. They lift their wings and spread their tails to appear bigger and run toward others. What goofy birds they are. The sparrows pay them no mind, crowding around like they do. Photo: Chubby in the roses at a living room window

The sparrows are always around, crowds of them, hopping and flying around, happy as larks. They seem to have no conflicts with anyone, including among themselves. They’ll take a piece of the bread and kind of hop off the edge of the feeder to the ground where if they drop the bread often another sparrow grabs the bread and hops away. When the young ones are able to fly to the feeder they hop after adults, shivering and cheeping for food.

For awhile we had what we called sparrots – parrots that flocked with sparrows. They actually live closer to the lake and after a month or so, found their way home.

Once Leslie called me to the back of the house and there on the bird bath was a hawk – a force to be reckoned with.

We have blackbirds (all named Quoth the Raven [said in a husky deep voice]) who prefer the bread. When one of them lands on the feeder it pretty much clears the deck, except for Chubby. They take a piece of bread and fly back to the birdbath to soak it for 15-20 seconds, the scoff it down and back to the feeder. Back and forth, back and forth. Photo: Robin red breast and cedar wax wings in back. The cedar wax wings are around for one, sometimes two days/year – just passing through

Leslie rescued a baby jay from Judo’s formidable jaws. She fed it little pieces soaked dog food on a toothpick for a few days and then found a rescue place (ABC Vets) that took it.

We are on the 35th day of >100F. We’re filling the birdbath several times/day and I’ve begun spraying the leaves of the pecan tree and the bush by the birdbath, thinking that that might improve things for the birds. Yesterday, when Leslie was lying down to take a nap (actually it’s mostly lying down for her daily back, hip, and leg-rub – same as mine, earlier in the day) I saw a hummingbird hovering by the bush by the birdbath. There are no flowers – what is that little guy doing – Oh, right, having a drink, taking a break from the usual fare of Phyllis’ Turk’s caps. Photo: Quoth the Raven

This morning, before daylight we saw an owl on the birdbath.

In a few days I’m headed to Wyoming to do a similar trek to my epic (it was epic for me, anyway) hike into the Wind River wilderness in 2009. https://picasaweb.google.com/chaskemp/WindRivers2009North.

As is increasingly so, I’m uneasy about being away from Leslie, especially going into a wilderness area. But I have my SPOT (satellite beacon to check in okay or to send distress signal) and an ever increasing sense of my limitations. And this time I’m uneasy about leaving home in all this heat – Yikes! And I go with a tremendous sense of appreciation for a wife who is so supportive of this. Leslie is a rare one – in quite a few ways, actually. For all our life, all our love, all our work together, all our travel, our wonderful son, our dreams, all these days, and so much more: I love you. Photo: Looking back on the mountains I came over in 2009.

From Dallas I35 north through OK City, Wichita, go west on I70 to Denver, north on 25 a few miles, cut off to Ft. Collins, then north on 287 to Laramie, west on I80 to Rock Springs and 191 to Pinedale. Here is an exact route that will be abundantly clear to anyone around Pinedale. I’m planning on starting at Elkhart Park outside of Pinedale, through Miller Park (“Parks” are huge meadows.), past Photographer’s Point past Hobb’s Lake, Seneca Lake, Little Seneca and then if everything is real good (I’ll let you know by sending three consecutive I’m okay messages) north on the Highline Trail past Lower and Upper Jean Lakes, on to Shannon Pass Trail to Cube Rock Pass around the south side of Peak Lake up through Peak Basin and up between Split Mountain and G-4 to overlook Mammoth Glacier, then traverse around to Knapsack Col and down into Titcomb Basin to Island lake and on out. If it’s going just okay, i.e., I’m too slow or too much knee pain or whatever, I won’t send 3 consecutive okays and will go past the Highline Trail cut-off to Island Lake and from there into Indian Basin and either up Freemont Peak or just mill around in Indian or Titcomb Basins for a few days and then out.

And here’s a song for you, sweet Leslie: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3j4cu-MuLgc

Starting Hospice

Here is how hospice started in Texas in 1978-79.

I was interested in dying and death before I got into nursing – what with all the gunfights, mines, morters, and so on. And the healing path after the war also brought life and death into sharper focus. Dorothy Pettigrew, one of my teachers at Baylor told us about Kubler-Ross’ stages and I sought out more information and the opportunity to work with people at the end of life. John Reed was very helpful in this process and I owe a lot to him.

When I graduated I went to work at the VNA and again sought those opportunities. I decided I needed to get better at communicating with patients, so went to UT Austin to work on a master’s in psychiatric nursing (I had a fellowship and veteran’s bennies). It was an intense year in school and another good year with Leslie.

There were few jobs and little apparent opportunity in those jobs in Austin and so Leslie stayed and I went to Dallas. It was in no way a separation, but it was a commuter marriage. Leslie stayed at Carol Nunley’s and flew in every Friday afternoon and left Sunday afternoon. I had an apartment in an old sixplex on Prescott in Oak Lawn – every weekend, what a great time we had there.

At the end of our time together in Austin I spent a week at a “Transitions Workshop” with Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, Stephen Levine, and about 75 people who more or less fit into one of three categories: some had life-threatening illness, some had lost a loved one, and some were working in terminal care in some way or another. This thing happened at a Catholic retreat center in San Antonio. The sessions went from ~8am until 1 or 2am. On the first morning we were all in a large room, going through us all, with people sharing why they were there. We learned later that this was called bullshit time, because so many people would be saying they were there to learn about dying and death. In our time, however, we went from a person who was dying to someone who was afraid to a man who said he was there because he was always judging other people, and somehow these people freed things so that other people began saying why they were really there: because of our pain. Photos by Debora Hunter

Most of the rest of the time was spent in a process called externalizing, in which people would express pain, anger, grief and say what they had to say to those who had been a part of whatever it was that was happening (God, an abusive parent, self, spouse, the usual line-up). Part of that was that nobody was comforted. People, myself included, expressed the pain, then deeper, and deeper into it, until (often with groaning, sobbing, and so on) the pain really was out, not sanitized for public consumption, but agonized, snot-running, sweaty, and raw. People were realizing they could survive these terrible feelings. Though toward the end there was comforting, and greatest in the comfort was that we were all doing this thing. One thing I shared was how Donohue was killed. It was the first time I said this aloud, though I was running the video in my mind every bleeding day of my life for 10 years. I later told Jeff and I wrote it here: http://sites.google.com/site/chaskemp/personal2

In Dallas I went to work at the VNA. When I graduated from the master’s program I was thinking I should have a certain level of job, certainly “higher” than staff, but after the Transitions Workshop, I realized all I ever wanted to do was to help others and the best way I could think of to do that was to work with patients (I still believe that). So I went to work as a staff nurse providing care in people’s homes. Within a few months some other people (Ruby Carter, Tim Brown, Johnnie Turner) and I were meeting to talk about what we could do to do a better job caring for people with terminal disease. There were no pagers at the time, so we all carried note cards with all our names and phone numbers and we’d give one to each patient who was dying – the idea being that surely, one of us was bound to be available no matter what time of the day or night the call came.

Not too long after we got this going, the VNA Executive Director, Elsie Griffith called me to her office and told me she wanted me to “work on something for people with terminal illness.” I came out of the field and went to work on program planning and on how to get leadership to buy into what I was planning. Early in the process someone asked me to look in on Jan, a young woman with metastatic breast disease. Incredibly she lived about a mile from my apartment and I began helping her mother, Jean, an amazing woman. I think it was about three months before Jan died. She had an incredible journey, with many long nights at the edge.

Meanwhile, back at the VNA we brought in Al Shapero, one of my professors (design and management) at UT, to help with the planning and bringing the organization’s leadership along. It all came together and was kept real, at least in part through my nightly encounters with Jan’s journey toward death. Somewhere along the way I spent a week at Hospice of Marin, where I learned more about program details and met some of the other people who were making hospice happen in the U.S.

VNA had Dallas divided into three districts and we started the program, (initially the VNA Terminal Care Program – creative, ain’t I – and later called the VNA Home Hospice), in the East District. It was a very lean program, basically a team of nurses, medical director, social worker, chaplain, home health aides, lay volunteers – each team integrated into their district organizational structure. Three months later we started in the West District and three months after that the third district and Dallas was covered.

Each time we started up, we had a training program that lasted about a week if memory serves me. We covered hospice principles, symptom management, communications, spiritual care, etc., and we also had some powerful exercises and meditations. One of the people who helped with training was Herman Cook, who had worked with Kubler-Ross at the University of Chicago and was now (at the time of the training) a chaplain at Parkland, Dallas’ county hospital.

One very nice outcome to the care we were providing was that the percentage of VNA patients with advanced cancer who died at home went from ~32% to >66%. On any given day we were taking care of more patients than any hospice in the U.S. It was working.

In keeping with my outlook on things, I didn’t have an office for quite awhile. Still focused on patients. Then I had an office and a secretary, Virginia, who did wonderful work. I told everyone who worked in hospice, including administrative, that we would all always be working with at least one patient. Virginia worked with this woman, whose life was truly tragic.

At this time there were a few hospice programs on the east and the west coasts, and of course in the U.K. In Texas, there were a few people talking about it, but we were the first people in Texas to actually provide hospice care.

There was a spirit alive in those days – one which is still alive in many hospices! It was a spirit of hope for our patients, of faith in our potential and the potential of our patients, of pushing the limits of symptom management, of dedication to this better way of living in the context of dying. Those were epic days of legendary efforts in mercy. People like Cathy Little, Laura Neal-McCollum, Major Thomas, and Jimmy Boyd were spending day after day in the presence of suffering, fear, despair, and pain. By their faithfulness, skill, and love they showed that hope was real and healing possible.

How can there be healing in dying? When my teacher, Stephen Levine said,

We’re born to be healed
He wasn’t talking about healing the flesh. It’s the healing of the spirit, the person, the family, the past, the present, the future. We worked so hard to ease the body and thus open things up for communication, growth, and healing.

Reach out your hand
if your cup is empty
If your cup is full
may it be again

Let it be known
there is a fountain
that was not made
by the hand of man

A year or so into the whole thing I went to work on a proposal to the U.S. Department of Health & Human Services for our program to become one of the national hospice demonstration projects. Several other people were also involved in the writing and together we produced a proposal that was awarded (our functional and successful program had everything to do with the award). We became a national demonstration project and the program began going through a lot of changes. I did as I intended all along and became a hospice clinical specialist (training, consulting, difficult patients and families). I was betting that VNA would hire someone good to take my place and then the most awful thing happened. The program went under an administrator who didn’t get it except as a career thing and she hired a guy who was just a terrible choice in so many ways. That was a very difficult time for me.

I worked in hospice for about two years. They were extraordinarily intense years of pushing the limits of care, grand innovation, hard work, and the realization of dreams beyond dreams.

Fifteen years later I wrote Terminal Illness: A Guide to Nursing Care. When the book was finished, the editor asked me to write an epilogue and though tired of writing, reluctantly I did. In the first sentence I wrote that the purpose of all this was for the patient and family “to have the opportunity for reconciliation with God, self, and others.” It blew my mind that I wrote that. It was as if, oh, right, there’s the purpose of life: reconciliation with God, self, and others. My life, your life, all our lives. Some of us have farther to go than others, but there it is.

Spring 2011

We were at a wedding and someone was asking me about retirement, what I planned to do and I answered garden, bake, backpack, festivals, travel. Leslie mentioned that I was starting a 10 day backpacking trip next week (and that she was going to Cali). I thought, though the moment had passed, that a major part of my plan for retirement is just being with Leslie more. Photo: From the small balcony upstairs at the house where we stayed in Berkeley.

And I was thinking about this and that, like the bride’s parents and their journey from war and Vietnam and what Leslie and I have done so far this year. I’m working out and Leslie’s walking. I work two part days/week and was doing some serious gardening until it got so bleeding hot and Leslie does everything that keeps us going (considerably more than two part days/week!). We’ve been having lunch together almost every day, going on weekend “field trips” to Saigon Mall and Super H, and random things like Half-Price Books. As much as possible, we’ve had some long easy days, like on Fridays. Photo: Where Telegraph meets UC Berkeley at Sproul Plaza, where the free speech movement started. Pretty good little band.

January (the trip started 11/2010 and ended 1/2011) – we traveled for about 8 weeks in Cali and SE Asia.
February – Arthroscopy knee
March – Cali (Oakland & SF) – some major good times
April – I went to Oklahoma for a couple of days – a great trip
May – Berkeley for David’s graduation – talk about a family trip!!!
June – Deep in the Heart of Trances, which was wonderful and Sonic Bloom which wasn’t; Leslie to San Francisco – San Francisco!
July – Rest
August – ?
Photo: David moments after graduation from Berkeley Law! Good work! WooHoo!

My teacher, Dan was talking earlier about Nietzsche’s idea that the “death of God” results in “weightlessness.” I was thinking about that in relation to faith and works – I was thinking that often, without works (doing good, being in the flow, practicing mercy, etc.) there is a lack of weight and substance in life.

For me, the faith vs. works question is false. The way I see it is the reason to do works is not for some future reward, but because it’s just what a person does, maybe cannot not do. We’ll find out whatever in the sweet by and by. Photo: Speaking of substance … country French sourdough loaves, several with cheese.

In June Jeff and I went to Deep in the Heart of Trances. It was basically a perfect party. There was music from Friday evening to well into Sunday morning. Here is an example of the sort of music we listened and danced to (click start on the third piece, Summerlands – whew!): http://soundcloud.com/search?q%5Bfulltext%5D=aes+dana5Bfulltext%5D=aes+dana

Photo: Sunday morning at Deep in the Heart

A Victory for Veterans

New York Times, May 18, 2011

The United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit ordered an overhaul of mental health care for veterans, who are killing themselves by the thousands each year because of what the court called the “unchecked incompetence” of the Department of Veterans Affairs.

In a scathing 2-to-1 ruling on May 10, the judges said delays in treating post-traumatic stress disorder and other combat-related mental injuries violated veterans’ constitutional rights. The delays are getting worse as more troops return from Afghanistan and Iraq, the judges said. About 18 veterans commit suicide on an average day.

The government’s obligations are clear. Veterans are entitled by law to be treated for injuries and illnesses. Benefits claims are supposed to be dealt with in days or weeks, but it takes an average of more than four years to fully adjudicate a mental health claim. When a veteran appeals a disability rating, the process bogs down drastically. The problem is an overwhelmed bureaucracy and a chronic inadequacy of resources and planning.

The judges said the system for screening suicidal patients was ineffective, and cited a 2007 inspector general’s conclusion that suicide-prevention measures were mostly absent. The same report found that the veterans department’s regional medical centers have suicide-prevention experts, but its 800 community-based outpatient clinics — which veterans most often use — do not. This crisis plagues active-duty soldiers, too, and the Pentagon has lagged in responding effectively. The government has long known what it was up against with P.T.S.D. and brain injuries — the signature afflictions of current wars.

This new ruling came two years after the appeal was filed, during which lawyers for the government and the nonprofit advocacy organizations that sued, Veterans for Common Sense and Veterans United for Truth, were trying to negotiate a plan for fixing the system. Those negotiations did not succeed, so the judges have remanded the case to the district court to order one.

The government can keep appealing, but it should work with the advocates and enact a plan to fulfill the promise of the veterans affairs secretary, Eric Shinseki, to do better. For 25 million veterans, including 1.6 million who served in Afghanistan and Iraq, the choice is clear.

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/05/19/opinion/19thu2.html?_r=1&nl=todaysheadlines&emc=tha211

After All This Time

Heading out of town and want to leave this with you, Dear Leslie (Listen to the words here):

There were trains And we out-run ’em There were songs And we out-sung ’em There were brighter days never ending There was time And we were burnin’ There were rhymes And we were learnin’ There was all the love two hearts could hold

And after all this time You’re always on my mind Hey I could never let it end ‘Cause my heart takes so long to mend The dream that keeps your hopes alive The lonely nights you hold inside And after all this time You’re always on my mind I still want you

There was rain That we outlasted There was pain But we got past it There were last goodbyes still left unspoken There were ways I should have thrilled you There were days I could have killed you You’re the only love my life has known

And after all this time You’re always on my mind Hey I could never let you go A broken heart that heals so slow Could never beat for someone new While you’re alive and I am too And after all this time You’re always on my mind I still love you

And I could never let it in ‘Cause my heart takes so long to mend The dream that keeps your hopes alive The lonely nights you hold inside And after all this time You’re always on my mind I still want you Hey after all this time You’re always on my mind I still love you