The Antarctica Chronicle

Hello everybody. Back here after a long while. Research has finally shown some positive signs and I am hoping to graduate soon. But I am not here to talk about research. Right now I am sitting in the den of Cruz del Sur, a nice homely hostel with a dog named Kren, in the town of Ushuaia in the Tierra del Fuego province of Argentina. In three days time I will be catching the expedition ship ‘Ushuaia’, crossing the Drake Passage, exploring the Weddell Sea and docking at various points on the Antarctic peninsula and the South Shetland islands.

Yes, Antarctica!!! I hear you ask the inevitable question, one I have heard several times over the last one year, when my friends and I started planning for the trip - why Antarctica? Honesty, I don’t know what else to say, other than, why not; and then point you to Ernest Shackleton and the ill-fated loss of Endurance followed by the daring  rescue, Amundsen and Scott’s expedition to the South Pole; and, if the pleasure of travel and sense of wonder seeing new places doesn’t do it for you, then I’ll show you this photo. Actually, forget the rest. The photo alone should do.

Courtesy: http://antarcticjourney.wordpress.com/

Make no mistake, it is an expensive, most likely once-in-a-lifetime trip; and, a proper chronicle or diary is a must when it comes to these once-in-a-lifetime affairs. So with multiple follow-up posts that’s what I’ll do. Right now, I’ll sign off with the following photographs from the very windy Ushuaia.

One day, maybe I’ll climb some of these

It must be wonderful living in such a cradle

Looking at the southern most tip of the Andes

Ushuaia

An afternoon at the Gorge

It’s been a while, a month to be exact, since I even thought about updating the blog. Am I getting disinterested? God, no! Just that “pressure” has been getting to me.

[For those who are interested, I have to calculate the local pressure in a spherically symmetric atomistic system that is both heterogenous and in thermal non-equilibrium; and, the freaking math does not add up. If you have got a clue, do let me know.]

Anyway, I happened to visit a nearby gorge in a short afternoon stroll with the Photo Club last weekend. I haven’t been there before in spite of living close by for over 2 years. What a shame! Here are the pics.

A "hermit" meditating near the mini-falls. No kidding! He was practicing some new-age meditation technique, shouting his lungs out.

No doubt that was the last thing we expected to see; at least I haven't seen such randomness before in my 2 years here.

Location: Poestenkill Gorge Park, Troy, NY

Anyway, March is here and hopefully I'll keep y'all posted more often.  Cheers and until next time.

Kodachadri - A photo journey

Hello folks. I’m finally back after a long hiatus. My Jan 7th promise didn't hold up. Couldn't help it. Let's just say it was a combination of dry eyes and general laziness. After ending 2011 with the LASIK procedure and welcoming 2012  with a glasses free life, all I hope for now is that the Mayans didn’t know something we don't.

Anyway, now back in Troy suffering through a depressingly mild winter and perennially planning to start a final sprint towards graduation, here’s my long overdue photo gallery of my India trip. Starting this new session of postings with the drive and hike up the enchanting Kodachadri located roughly 20kms from Mookambika Temple.

One other thing, I won’t be posting every Sunday like clockwork anymore. However, I’ll update the blog as frequently as possible.

Driving up the narrow winding road from Kollur. It is possible to hike the entire 20km stretch, something I might have done if I were not with family.

The drive up - I would have kicked myself if I had left my camera back at the hotel.

The drive up - I would have kicked myself if I had left my camera back at the hotel.

The drive up - I would have kicked myself if I had left my camera back at the hotel.

The drive up - I would have kicked myself if I had left my camera back at the hotel.

The final stretch - Hiking up to the Sarvajna Peetam (roughly translated, site of all knowledge) at the top.

The final stretch - Hiking up to the Sarvajna Peetam (roughly translated, site of all knowledge) at the top.

The final stretch - Hiking up to the Sarvajna Peetam (roughly translated, site of all knowledge) at the top.

Sarvajna Peetam. After seeing how US’s short history has been well maintained, polished and kept sparkling new in Virginia and DC, I was left wondering if it was that we were not really interested in preserving our history in a manner that attracted tourists or was it that the old, beaten down site added to the allure of our long and rich history.

Mookambika from atop the hill.

If you guys get a chance do visit the place. You don't have to be religious; it's just a beautiful sight.

Cheers and until next time.

If you want to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe.

The title of the post is a quote attributed to Carl Sagan. Creating the universe may be impossible, save for the schizophrenic few, but we can always do the next best thing - marvel at the mysteries of the universe before us and indulge in some apple picking in an orchard nearby. Ya, you can use them to make pies, if you want to, but if you are like me and find cooking a chore, then the marveling part alone should entice you. Yet, it took me two years to take a bite.

Apple picking is an activity that is highly popular here, in the northeastern United States. Every Fall, orchards are open to public and consumers can pick their own apples from the sprawling fields. Yes, this is essentially a method of purchasing apples, given that you pay pay per pound in most places, but, it is widely seen as a social activity and a popular dating ritual.

A popular fall pastime, maybe, but for the last two seasons whenever I received club emails talking about apple picking trips, I never understood the fuss; they are just apples for heaven’s sake. How can apples be anyone’s idea of a time well spent. Yes, apples have touched the lives of many - from Norse mythology to the Newtonian legend, from the Garden of Eden to Steve Jobs’ legacy; but, apple picking? Are you kidding me? I would rather struggle up a mountain than dance around trees.

But I must admit I was wrong. This time, when RPI’s photography club sent their email out, I thought I would check what the fuss was all about, if only to get away from my godforsaken thesis. With a camera in hand and the changing fall colors in the background, the orchard really is a paradise. Here are a few pics from yesterday afternoon. They don’t do full justice to the serenity of a pristine, clean and picturesque landscape.

Would I go again? Just to clarify. I would still rather struggle up a mountain than go apple picking.  But, for a bored afternoon, an apple orchard is a great place to be with your camera in tow. Moreover, the sky was gloomy yesterday. I would like to capture the landscape under blue skies.

Until next time.

Cheers.

Conquering America's First President

3rd September 2011

The forecast was for rain. With Mount Washington known for its erratic weather and super-strong winds, this is one piece of information never to be taken lightly. Yet, five hours into the drive from Troy, the night gradually turning into day, we were greeted by beautiful views with just intermittent spots of rain clouds. There was some occasional meek lightning trying to scare us, but more or less we were increasingly feeling confident that the weather wasn’t going to deteriorate on us so much that we would have to call-off the hike.

There were ten of us in three cars. Roughly half past six, as soon as we turned into the parking lot at Pinkham Notch visitors center it started to pour. It was coming down strong. Distant rumbles could be heard as well. It was a rancid welcome, no doubt. We were at roughly 2000 feet elevation. If it was bad down here then the summit (6288 feet) could be deadly, the ascent tricky and dangerous. We had a decision to make.

Flooding the Grand Canyon

Cooling my heels atop Baxter peak I happened to overhear parts of an animated conversation among a group of fellow hikers. They were discussing about the rocks and flora in the Grand Canyon. Amidst the chit chat, I heard someone mention the Grand Canyon flood; for which, the response was that it was an intentional, man-made act. That set me thinking.

When flood is one of humanity’s worst nightmares - I am writing this as Irene threatens the eastern seaboard with dangerous floods and devastating tides - and people have always sought to regulate surging waters by weirs and dams, why would man intentionally create a torrent at a rate of 300,000 gallons per second - enough water to fill NY’s Empire State Building in 20 minutes?

Top of the world, far from it; top of Maine, definitely so.

13th August 2011

4 a.m

We woke up early that day. In spite of the long, tiring drive the previous night, we didn’t have a choice in this matter. Climbing Mt. Katahdin and traversing Knife Edge was our only aim.

Katahdin is located in Baxter State Park and is the highest mountain in Maine. The most famous hike to the summit goes along Knife Edge, which traverses the ridge between Pamola Peak and Baxter Peak. The mountain has claimed 19 lives since 1963, mostly from exposure to bad weather and falls from the Knife Edge. For about 0.3 miles the trail is 3 feet wide, with a drop off on either side. Not surprising, the Knife Edge is closed during periods of high wind. [Courtesy Wiki]

Owing to the popularity, danger and availability of parking spots, the rangers place a restriction on the number of climbers, rather, the number of cars they let through to the trail head. There was one member in our group who had been here before and had to turn back because he was too late. This time neither he nor the others wanted to miss their chance. The drive was way too long to go back disappointed.

We were at the check post by 5 a.m. 11 of us, in 2 sedans and a minivan. There was already a long queue of cars ahead of us. The Roaring Brook trailhead had roughy 25 parking spots, most of which may have been reserved in advance. We were early, but were we early enough?

Taking a leap of faith

This picture was taken with my friend’s point and shoot a couple of months back. It was raining that morning and I left my camera back at the hotel. The clouds cleared by the time we reached the Bay Area. Lady Weather is so fickle.

Since the time of Icarus man has always wanted to soar like the birds. Thanks to the Wright brothers and countless more before and after them, we have come a long way. I, too, have had my fair share of opportunities to soar through the sky at speeds the birds can only dream of; albeit in huge metal cages. The thrill of flying, thus, has always eluded me. Never have I felt the full force of the wind against my face. Nor have I been able to pilot those beasts.

Considering the expense the latter might remain a dream. For the former, there is the next best thing. Not the metaphorical next best thing. I have never been down that road. Instead, it is time I took a leap of faith.

The Lake Placid Fiasco

I am time and today I am going to tell you a story. This is no ordinary story. This is a tale of four “great” men; four well educated, intelligent young blokes whose qualifications, put together, would place them at the top of any spectrum in the public eye. One is a post-doctoral research scholar and a respected author of scientific texts; another is a thought leader and a master in business administration; and yet another, an engineer, one whose expertise facilitates, without much ado, some of the comforts fellow human beings enjoy. This illustrious trio is accompanied by a doctoral student who aspires to be an established author of scientific and non-scientific texts. With no further introduction, I would like to take you to Troy, a beautiful Victorian town on the banks of the Hudson. Here, the protagonists are preparing for the misadventure of their lives.

(Intro style inspired by the Mahabharat series aired in Doordarshan (India) in the late 80s).

June 18th 2011

11:30 a.m.

It’s a beautiful Saturday. The Hudson sparkles in the late morning sunlight and showers downtown Troy with its warmth. Down by the banks the residents wallow in serenity, intoxicated as they are serenaded by the ebb and flow of the breeze through the leaves behind them. A little removed, up the hill, in the campus of Rensselaer the protagonists unaware of nature’s treat unfolding near the river banks decide to go somewhere; anywhere. They have been cooped up in this town for way too long.

Sid, Sandy, Raul and Kirk, [*] thus, set out for Lake Placid in Raul’s zebra striped Camaro. Lake Placid is a horseshoe shaped waterbody in the  Adirondack Mountains in northern New York. Spanning approximately 2,170 acres (8.8 km²) with an average depth of about 50 feet, Lake Placid is one of the most prominent lakes in the New England area.

[*] The names have been changed for no particular reason, and with not even one ounce of creativity.

It’s a two hour drive on I-87 North. A hassle free journey takes them to the village of Lake Placid. It’s a little after 2. It’s about time they had some lunch. Nothing fancy. Subs would have to do. Kirk gets his regular footlong tuna. Within fifteen minutes, having filled their stomachs, they head out to the lake for a strenuous kayaking experience.

Alas, they were plagued by one small problem. There was only one shop renting kayaks known to  most of the people around, and that was closed. It was nearing 3 and the protagonists were getting frustrated. They should probably have woken up earlier. They should have reached Lake Placid sooner. Would the long drive end up to be fruitless? I would have paused if I could, but then the universe would descend into chaos. However, the earth’s axial tilt was still in their favor. It’s nearing summer solstice and darkness engulfs the land no sooner than 9pm. Time was still in hand. I had given them a lifeline.

At quarter past 3 they find Eastern Mountain Sports. The protagonists head in. Yes, here EMS does rent kayaks. Kirk asks the lady behind the counter, “is there a dock nearby?” She replies, “We can set you up and you can get going from the one behind the shack.” They make no further enquiries. Raul and Kirk start off in a 12 foot regular kayak while Sid and Sandy are in the tandem. Sid hasn’t paddled before and it will take a while for him to be comfortable on water.

They head to a beach a quarter mile away. There are swimmers in lanes marked by buoys. Careful, they must be; not due the fear of hurting the swimmers but of toppling their own kayaks upon collision. Once on the beach Sandy and Kirk switch places and they head back out after a few minutes rest. They race to the diametrically opposite end of the lake roughly a mile away and hold a mid-water conference.

Sandy: Now, that didn’t seem so far.

Sid: It’s hardly deep too. Look, I can touch the bottom with this paddle.

Kirk: Come on, we are closer to the banks. What do you expect? It will be deeper further in. After all, this is Lake Placid.

Sid: I’ve heard they call this the Queen of Lakes**.

Sandy: Maybe it’s King George and his placid queen.

Raul: Ya, Lake George was huge. This looks more like a pool.

Kirk: A calm one nonetheless. Maybe this lake looks beautiful from atop the peaks. That could be the hype.

Raul: And, of course the winter olympics hoopla.

Sid: My friend was saying this lake is a must-see. Ya, right!!! Wait, did the 30-foot crocodile really live in this commode? ***

** Actually, Lake George is nicknamed the Queen of American Lakes.

*** Lake Placid is a 1999 American monster movie. Yes, it was filmed elsewhere.

They decide to paddle around till sunset. Anyway, they had paid for the kayaks and it looked like like they had most of the lake for themselves. “Where did everybody go? There were so many tourists on the streets.” These thoughts were shut out as the protagonists enjoyed the serenity that surrounded then.

At roughly half past 8 they head back to the EMS dock. Sid, Sandy and Raul return the gear and head into the shack to get their belongings. Kirk waits near the kayaks as an employee arrives for the routine inspection.

EMS Employee: So how was your day?

Kirk: It was great. Thank you.

EMS Employee: Did you carry your kayaks over to the horseshoe? It’s tougher to kayak there, you know, with the speedboats around.

Kirk: :-0

Kirk manages to hold a straight face trying very hard to hide his shock. He still catches a small glint in the employee’s eyes, the kind you get when you discover a new tale to share with your buddies; a tale of four “knowledgeable” dimwits. He heads back into the shack. “Guys, I have some bad news. This was not Lake Placid.”