Seeing the world for what it is. Adventure stories and photos available for publication. http://www.offyonder.com Cameron L. Martindell/offyonder.com 1999-2007, All Rights Reserved Six days - five days of climbing and acclimating and one day to get down. Kilimanjaro has no technical aspect to it and thus enters the debate of being labeled either a climb or a hike. If I had my way, it would just be called a hike, but "climbing Kilimanjaro" has a better ring to it than "hiking Kilimanjaro." Regardless, in the end you still end up at 5,985m (19,341ft) atop Uhuru Peak amongst the receding glaciers and upon the highest point in Africa, not to mention, the highest free standing volcano in the world. Kilimanjaro is actually comprised of three volcanoes. Kibo, the primary and the highest, Mawensi, the second highest and Shira, which forms a high plateau of the same name between it and Kibo. The hike was a steady plod and our guide, Nelson, did very well to set a slow and easy pace to ensure our entire group of four reached the summit. Amy organized the whole trip and brought her father George, friend Eric and myself together for this amazing experience. I'm still writing the captions for the still photos and they will be posted at the end of this week. But to get you there, I'm posting six videos, one for each day of the climb. They will be released one at a time over the course of this week. There are a number of methods to subscribe to my videos as I publish them including iTunes, RSS and more. Check out the 'share' or 'subscribe' link below the video screen. Also, anyone can leave comments and your feedback is more than welcome, it is soug » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=99I arrived in Tanzania a day before our Kilimanjaro ascent and joined with Eric, a member of our party to explore Arusha National Park. In Swahili 'safari' just means 'travel' but the word has evolved to mean a trip through the jungle to see animals. In this case, we departed on our one-day safari from Moshi at the base of Kilimanjaro and drove in an extended Toyota Land Cruiser to Arusha NP where our guide, Louis, opened the roof and drove us through the park where we saw all sorts of wildlife roaming free and doing what they do. Click To Play » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=98Shawn picked up a sweet job as the skipper for a schooner up in Narragansett Bay out of Newport, RI. So, naturally, he wanted to move Elizabeth, his Bristol 27 of which many of the sailing adventures recently posted here at Off Yonder have been about, up to Newport from New York City. The motor issue was resolved by buying a new one. Shawn sold the old one to someone sight unseen and left it for him on the dock at Lincoln Harbor. The new motor was a purring 9 horse pull start that started right up every time. But adventure follows Elizabeth regardless and this time it wasn't a mechanical issue, it was a thick fog that rolled in and obscured our visual navigation reference and forced us into instrument navigation. The tricky part - we didn't have any instruments. We're trying something new here at Off Yonder: Video. I've uploaded a little ditty to YouTube and have embeded it into the pages of Off Yonder for you to enjoy right here. I know it works in Safari... if you're using a different browser and it doesn't work, try this link to YouTube. Photos » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=97It started off as a one-day job helping move a sailboat down the Jersey Shore. It ended up being three sailboat delivery jobs over the span of a week. When people buy a sailboat, it usually needs to be moved from the previous owner's slip or the boat yard to it's new home. Sometimes new owners don't have the time to make such a trip on their own or even know how to sail. So, they hire someone like my friend Shawn to move it for them. And, depending on the circumstances, a second crew might be necessary, or at least helpful in the process. » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=96Shawn and I departed New York City at 6.30am under light wispy clouds in an otherwise clear sky to drive about fifty miles north up the Hudson River. It took all day to get the boat in the water. We originally wanted to catch the early morning ebb. But that didn't work out. We had to make trips to West Marine to get parts and work on getting the boat ready. Then we targeted the mid day ebb... missed that, too. The boat yard wasn't very efficient about getting us into the water. I'm not really sure what was going on there, but finally around 6pm the guy came by and told us he couldn't put us in the water because he had to go to his kids wrestling match. Shawn and I must have looked so dumbfounded or pathetic or both. We had to get the boat in the water and get down the river so I had a place to live and so Shawn could make it to work on time - 10am the next morning. The yard owner drove off. Our jaws agape and we continued to work on the boat. » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=95Frankie called me shortly after I got back from the Antarctic in March of 2006. "I'm engaged and the wedding is next January, will you be on the continent??" I had such a good time in Antarctica, I was considering another season on the ice. But with this call, my plans were firmly set on being in North America come January 2007. But I can't do anything simple like fly into LAX or BUR from out east and go straight to the wedding. Instead I flew into San Diego to visit with my dad and brother and they flew me up to the wedding. While I was down at the South Pole, I explored the remains of the LC-130 Hercules transport aircraft that crash landed there in 1973. As it turns out, one of the survivors (everybody aboard survived) lives up in Camarillo, CA just north of LA. His name is Dave Crouse and he agreed to meet us for breakfast on Sunday morning before the wedding. » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=94My two month assignment at Gray Knob Cabin has ended. The entire season was a glorious experience and this last nine-day stint was no exception. After being bucked off the mountain from my little bout in the stormy whiteout described in the previous dispatch, I got back in the saddle, under sunny skies and easily made it to the summit of Mt. Adams, trekked down to Edmonds Col (with an interesting wildlife encounter), wallowed in the thigh deep snow back to the perch and home again. But, as Tom Petty said: Its time to move on, time to get going; What lies ahead I have no way of knowing. And thus I am off. First a stop in the Big Apple - the complete opposite environment of where I was. Total solidarity to total immersion into one of the most populous cities in the world. From there 'What lies ahead I have no way of knowing' and I love it. » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=93It's been a long gray stint at Gray Knob. The clouds moved in under a low pressure system and stuck around for over a week. Then the wind kicked up, snow started to fall and suddenly the upper summits were buried in sixteen inches of snow with deeper drifts. I was getting tired of just sitting around in the cabin, though I've got good books to entertain me. So, I suited up grabbed my camera and made a dash for Mt. Adams. I never made it that far trekking through the howling wind and pelting snow, but I did make it to the little cave on Adams 4. Getting down was a different story. My daily rounds have moved forward by nearly three hours. At the beginning of the season, I would start my rounds at 6pm. Now I start suiting up at 3pm and I spend a good amount of time breaking trail in the freshly fallen snow and the trees around me are all completely coated with rime ice. It feels like I'm walking through a bizarre white sculpture garden, trees sculpted from stone but somehow able to wiggle in the wind. Tomorrow another big storm is forecasted and I plan on making an early return to Gray Knob to be home before the thick of it hits. One last stint and the season will be over. Three seasons in one as far as I see it... summer, a brief autumn and it seems winter has completely taken over. What a world. » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=92Fresh falls of snow, sub-freezing days, crisp clear skies and the continuing evolution of the foliage loosing its brilliant color punch and falling to the trail leaving the trees barren - such is the way things go at Gray Knob. The Columbus Day weekend rush went well, and the weekend after was even busier! Some of the evenings were clear, too. A group of adventurous and hardy souls made a moonlight ascent of Mt. Adams and as far as they were concerned, their journey took them all the way to the moon. Life at Gray Knob continues in its peaceful and comfortable way. The temperatures are finally dropping down to take the last remnant of humidity from the air and the crisp clean dry feel of winter is starting to become more and more frequent. Life is good. » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=91Most of September was nice and warm. But just at the end of the month, our first frost covered the Alpine Zone and just last week, the first fluffy white flakes of snow drifted down from the night sky. They greeted me by surprise one evening as I was heading out the back door of Gray Knob, headlamp ablaze, they glowed against the dark overcast sheet of night in their gentle descent from the sky. In the past month, I've logged over 150 miles tromping around these hills. Some of the miles were racked up during gentle strolls along the peaceful trails, others were more arduous: carrying heavy loads, hoping across boulders and/or while battling through stormy winds high on the ridge. This week I did much of my exploring on and around Mt. Jefferson. It's the next peak over from Mt. Adams and the ridgelines and ravines promise amazing exploring and wondrous sights. I head up now to face what promises to be my busiest weekend. With clear crisp skies and gentle winds forecasted, this Columbus Day Weekend which coincides with the Canadian Thanksgiving Weekend looks to make for crowded quarters at the Knob. » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=90No burnt bottoms! That is, for my second round of baking muffins up at Gray Knob cabin. It was a simple fix, really. I just moved the baking rack one notch higher. It was an amazing long stint up at the cabin - nine days! My fresh veggies nearly lasted the whole time, and I saved the best for last, a nice piece of butternut squash. I baked it up in my stove-top oven and shared it with "Ben Here" - an Appalachian Trail (AT) through hiker who spent the previous blustery night in a small cave up on the ridge just below Adams 4. Ben came into Grey Knob cabin at around 8am. I don't usually get folks arriving at that time and after asking him how he's doing, he admitted he'd had a rough night. AT hikers usually adopt trail nick-names of some sort. Either they're given to them or they come up with them on their own. 'Ben' may well be his real first name, but it developed as he signed the shelter log books simply with the date and "Ben Here." » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=89My second week was a short one... only five days as that's how the sub schedule worked out. It really was too short. It looks like my next stint will be upwards to 7 or 8 days on the mountain. Perfect. I hiked back up with 40 pounds of gear under clear blue skies and a light rustling of leaves from the gentle breeze stirring the mountain air. In my pack was the rest of my personal equipment, mostly winter clothing as I prepare for the temperatures to drop. But about ten pounds of it was fresh vegetables and fruits to sustain me. I've never been a big fan of the freeze dried backpacking meals, and they're crazy expensive. I think I fed myself for the week spending about Twenty Dollars. The next morning, I was up early, jotted down the weather and was off to visit the Mt. Washington Observatory. Mike Pelchat invited me via my evening radio call (check-in) to swing by. Well, swinging by is an all day event from Gray Knob to Mt. Washington. It's six miles along the ridge of the Presidential range, and though there are some trail options to skirt the summits, I was keen to get to the tops. » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=88The tranquility of the mountains cannot be matched. After my first week of living in the White Mountains of New Hampshire at Gray Knob Cabin, I've totally fallen in love with the simple life away from the hustle and bustle of more populated areas of the world. To get off the power grid and only have to worry about how not to burn the bottoms of my blueberry muffins puts things all into perspective. On clear days I make my way up to the rocky peaks above me and on stormy days I bundle up in my rain gear and go for walks in the driving rain and under the flashes of lightning and the cracks of thunder that echo off the surrounding slopes. Visitors mostly come on the weekends to explore and experience this great land, but a few hardy souls who are not confined by the M-F 9-5 schedule make it up mid week. School groups use this setting as a place to bond with their new students, but those trips will start to diminish as we delve deeper into the school year. The temperature will continue to dive down, and has already broken below the freezing layer along the summits leaving its frosty wake. Gray Knob is next to fall to the icy grip as winter creeps into the scene. But before that, the leaves will turn to their warm glow of autumn colors and the sun continues to bathe the area with golden beams of light in the early morning that redefines beauty with every passing moment. I always welcome folks to come visit and suggest you plan to stay up for at least two or three days to re » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=87The Dickman family from Pennsylvania came to the Great Northwest looking for a unique adventure that would suit their wide age range of children. With two sets of twins, David and Laura at nine years old, Natalie holding the middle ground at twelve, and the two older twins Amy and Maria, sixteen years of age a piece, they needed something equally stimulating and unburdening for the older to support the younger. They found Anacortes Kayak Tours and along with them guides Chris and Jeff to take them out into the wilds of the San Juan Islands, to camp under the stars and to explore the unique world of the inter-tidal zone along the islands coasts. Jeff, the guide, and I go way back to our days of search and rescue while we were in high school and had me come along. I took up the office of photographer and wrote a little story to be published in the travel section of a local newspaper. » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=86How ironic that the pinnacle of whitewater rafting experiences is found over a mile deep into the earth. As the Colorado River flows through the Grand Canyon, numerous side canyons and rock falls have deposited piles and piles of rocks and boulders to create some of the most notorious whitewater in the northern hemisphere. Because the constraining canyon walls rise thousands of feet above the river, it has no way to go around these impedances. It has no option but to go over these obstacles in a churning, violent, frothy flow. And once we're in the canyon, we have no option but to navigate our way through these unyielding currents in our little rafts. As one of the earliest river runners of the Colorado in 1869 described it, the water snagged a boat and "whirled it around quick enough to take the kinks out of a ram's horn." The whitewater was exciting, but that's not all the Grand Canyon has to offer. The rapids only account for 10 percent of the 225 miles we rafted, but their strength is attributed to account for the 50 percent of the 1800 feet we would descend in that distance. In between rapids, placid waters would slowly ooze along giving us time to appreciate and wonder at the unique perspective being in the inner gorge provides. Over four billion years ago, sediment that rested on the lip of the continental shelf was subducted into the earth. There it was super heated and compressed into the schist - Vishnu Schist - that now has the task of holding up the Nort » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=85It wasn't as hot as we had hoped it would be. The temperature didn't exceed 40°C which is strange for this part of the world this time of year. But that's not all: it also rained. It rained on us while camping in the desert where the average rainfall is a scant 230mm a year. Go figure. My friend Carl, who was heading the trip, invited me to join the five-day backpacking trip in the semi-arid Australian Outback as a wilderness guide. The trip is organized by a private school near Melbourne for their Year 11 (11th Grade) class. It is the last installment and the most rigorous of their Outdoor Education program. In previous years these students have visited mountain, marine and forest environments and now they must face the most famous, and harsh of Australian environments - the desert. » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=78Hiking from Dusky Sound on the west coast of the South Island in New Zealand along the Seaforth and Spey Rivers, over Centre Pass and through all the mud that at times was knee deep was one of the best tramping experiences I've ever had. The rainforest that is Fiordland is incredibly thick and lush. Gnarled roots squirm across the trail, misty waterfalls splash down into crystal clear lagoons, and after the tenacious effort to climb up and out of the rainforest beyond the canopy of the trees, the alpine zone offers views of the dramatic land formations of steep walls to high mountains and the deeply gauged valleys - more like ravines - in-between. It was a five day effort. Derek and I flew in on a floatplane from Lake Te Anau to Supper Cove in Dusky Sound first thing in the morning and set off walking. The first day was one of the most difficult, getting our feet used to stepping on or around the roots that formed much of the trail and being able to recognize when a seemingly benign patch of dirt was really a super absorbent pot of mud ready to engulf boot, leg, gaiter and all. Not unlike the Routeburn, the Dusky had huts as well, but these were truly huts, not the luxury lodges often found on "Great Walks" hikes. For a mere five Kiwi dollars we had permits to sleep in these huts which were instrumental in making this trek possible as they were our primary defense against the pesky sandfly. Rather, the pesky swarms of sandflies. We hit this trek with some of the best wea » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=76It was the most I've ever paid for accommodation on the trail EVER! This is not camping. This is luxury trekking. Granted, the views were amazing, the fight against gravity on the climbs was just as hard but there were just so many people. The Routeburn is one of New Zealand's "Great Walks" as proclaimed by them selves and that drives quite a bit of traffic that way. Hence, they have built these amazing "huts". These are not really huts, they're practically lodges. They have as many as 40 individual bunks (sometimes more I hear) that come with a fat mattress in the extensive bunk rooms, a separate dining room and kitchen with running water from a tap, sinks, and gas stoves. All the tramper needs to carry is a sleeping bag (very light weight as you're sleeping inside), a light coat and your food. No sleeping pad, no stove, no extra water, just the basics. This all come at no small cost. Hiking the trail requires booking a bunk well in advance and paying NZ$40 per person per night! That's almost double what I paid to stay at a backpackers hostel in town before getting on the trail. Granted, the view was way better, but still. Wow. » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=75Stepping off of the ski-equipped LC-130 Hercules aircraft at Williams Field on the Antarctic coast after the three hour flight from the Pole, the first thing I noticed was how the warmer snow felt under my feet. It was nearly 40 degrees below zero (conveniently that is where the Fahrenheit and Centigrade scales are equal) when I boarded the plane at the pole. I didn't think much of how the snow felt under my feet, or what it sounded like. The squeaking crunching sound had been there all season. But when I set foot on the warmer costal snow, where it was right about freezing, the snow felt very different - soft and creamy. Four of my polie co-workers and I, plus a dozen scientists from the pole were on our way back to the land of green. Our first stop was a night in McMurdo. Not long after us, people leaving the pole will be able to fly straight through without an overnight layover in McMurdo. Instead of getting a ride to the base like we did, they would simply get off of the smaller ski-equipped LC-130 and be shuttled from the softer snow 'skiway' to the harder ice runway where the huge wheeled C-17 Globemaster III will whisk them straight to Christchurch, New Zealand. » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=80Returning to the vibrant land of color was a re-awaking process like I've never experienced before. It all started when I deplaned in Christchurch, New Zealand. I had stepped onto a massive C-17 Globemaster III military transport aircraft in the stillness of McMurdo Sound on the Antarctic coast and off it into a foreign world of warmth, darkness, sweet aromas and a light spattering of rain. Knowing it would be warm when I arrived, I wore shorts under the heavy Antarctic clothing. Peeling off the layers as soon as I was on the tarmac waiting for the shuttle bus to the terminal felt glorious. The warm moist air enveloped me, light drops of rain tingled my skin and my sense of smell felt keener than ever. Even darkness took on a new fascination. The stars, having been hidden from me by 24 hours of sunlight a day at the pole, were partially obscured by scattered clouds and the light pollution of the city, but they were more beautiful than I could have imagined. It was approaching midnight but I was totally wired with all these sensory stimulations that had lain dormant since I flew south three months ago, all the way south. » http://www.offyonder.com/story.lasso?id=79