I have been labeled as the "common denominator" in the demise of two separate Sprinter engines in the past year.
Indeed, it was I who was driving when our rental Sprinter van blew the head gasket on a deserted road on the way up to San Pedro Martir National Park in Baja. Then, just a few months later, I was van-sitting for Dave while he was in Europe guiding, and on a work trip out of Bridgeport, black smoke came billowing out the back, and that was the end.
However! I must clarify that the first Sprinter arrived smoking and with 300,000 miles on it (they assured us it was okay -- we won't be renting from them again!), and the second turned out to be an issue with a sensor which took a very long time to finally burn out the engine. So, though I may be the common denominator in both cases, I promise you, it was not me.
Part 2
There has come to be another series of events in the past few weeks which have altered plans and turned heads, and which I have happened to span two countries in order to partake. This one involves weather.
We had a very large group of climbers for our last 9-day Orizaba climb at the beginning of January. Weather forecasts are hard to come by in Mexico, especially for the elevations we climb to. But there was word of a big cold front coming through.
Cold in Mexico! Oh, come on. We're from Mammoth! Mexico never gets that cold!
So, that cold front that dusted Florida in snow? Well, if you were to look at the map of the States, and connect the dots of the front dipping south from California and back north through the eastern seaboard, you could imagine that it passed right through central Mexico.
We like to integrate a rest day into our 9-day itinerary just after climbing Izta. As this is probably the more physically demanding climb (though not technical at all -- it's just a lot of hiking above 16,000ft, which proves very taxing), this rest day is quite critical in elevating chances of success on Orizaba.
So we hunkered down in Cholula for a full day's rest. I awoke in the middle of the night to a pitter-pat, pitter-pat.
Honestly, is someone doing housework at 3am? That's ridiculous.
Oh, it's raining.
And it rained all day. Into the evening. All night.
We got ourselves loaded up in the van the next morning, and headed for Tlachichuca (bless you!) where we pick up the 4wd to the hut on Orizaba. The weather came in and out all day. At times we thought it would clear up, then it would close in again.
Finally we were approaching Tlachichuca. There was a break in the clouds to the south, offering a window to Sierra Negra, a 14,000ft peak next to Pico de Orizaba. It had snow on it. A lot. The hut on Orizaba is at about 14,000ft.
Hm.
Another party was headed to the hut that day, so we decided to get lunch and wait for news. With several climbers at the hut waiting to come down, the driver had to head up anyway. The drive takes you through town, onto a dirt road to North America's highest village (at approximately 11,500ft, it's higher than anything in Colorado!), then hits the 4wd road after town.
The truck could barely make it past the village. At around 12,000ft there was over 3ft of snow.
So we went back to Cholula and celebrated a safe and successful summ... uh, drive. Which is nothing to be taken for granted in Mexico!
Flash forward a week. Back in California, I get an email forwarded to me from my supervisor at Mammoth Mountain Ski Area, where I give natural history tours. It's a warning from the Dean of Natural Sciences and Mathematics at Cal State Fullerton. He is predicting the storm of the century, to hit California in T-minus-5 days.
I've heard "wolf" cried many-a-time around here, and nothing ever seems to turn out as big or as devastating as they say. But okay, it's a big storm on its way. Cool, we need it!
Well, I've signed up for Crossfit. It's a fitness program with a personal trainer. I would describe it as yoga set to weights (and extremely intense). A local Bishop guy just opened a gym in his garage. So far, I am quite a fan.
Why am I telling you this?
Because it is raining and snowing so much here that I, someone who tries to get outside for a run, ski, or climb... or at least SOMETHING... every day, can't even go on a light ski tour up the road past Aspendell. I could bundle up and tough it out -- but the avalanche danger is too high. And I like running, but it's slushing sideways outside my window right now. No, not raining, slushing. In Bishop.
And there's hardly a break in sight for the next week.
I haven't done much math in the past few years, but if my calculations are right, there's some weird juju following me around.
So, anyone up for an Intro to Winter Mountaineering trip President's Day weekend?
I promise, it won't be like last year's, when we got weathered out at Lassen and ended up cancelling the trip for wind and snowfall. Really, it'll be great.
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