Astrophysicists

Don't get me wrong, I love big things. The only thing cooler than a big thing is a bigger thing. But, when it comes to big things, nothing is big enough for an astrophysicist. They tend to deal with things that are many, many orders of magnitude bigger than what we mere mortals deal with. It's a little sickening just how big.

And, if this weren't bad enough, they're constantly discovering things that push the borders of what even "they" consider to be big. Don't get me started on dark matter.

But really, what's bigger than stellar objects and the galaxies they float in? The universe itself is an estimated 93 billion light years across, which comes out to 8.798 X 10^26 meters. That's 879,800,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000, which is still a piddling number compared with stuff like the number of atoms in the observable universe, which comes out to 10^80.

If your brain hasn't melted yet, perhaps these two headlines will finish the job:

Scientists baffled by gangantuan black hole
A black hole in the middle of galaxy NGC 1277 with a mass equal to seventeen billion suns.

Quasar sends energy blast 2 trillion times more powerful than sun
Pretty self explanatory.

Sizzle pop much?

In a world self-absorbed with tiny dreams, we should be doing more to grasp the enormity of the universe we live in. People are currently vying for a shot at the Powerball jackpot, at $5.5 X 10^8 dollars (:psh:), and--if this absolute quantity weren't small enough--their dreams are smaller still...

- Start an internet cafe.

- Buy a car.

- Pay for their children's education.

It makes me sad to live in a world where most people have ambitions in the 10^6 range. Even if they caught that 10^8 monster by the tail, they wouldn't know what to do with it. I shudder to think what would happen if a 10^26 goliath or a 10^80 colossus fell into their lap.

Honestly, at that scale, thinking in multiples doesn't do much good. One-hundred Lamborghini's isn't going to make in dent in numbers like that, even supposing you could drive them all at the same time.

And--speaking of big numbers--perhaps I should mention that the odds of winning that jackpot are one in 1.75 X 10^8. But then--most people actually putting money into this aren't going to comprehend the ramifications of those odds. That's sad.

Until next time,
- Daniel

Switchbacks

Yesterday, I was climbing switchbacks in the Gorge. And I discovered something.

I'm not a fan of switchbacks.

It's not the steepness that bugs me. Nor the slipperiness. Nor the havoc they wreak on your knees and hips. Nope. It's the dishonesty that really gets under my skin.

For starters, you rarely know how many there are. There could be two... or six... or three-hundred and seventy-nine. This could be easily alleviated through the judicious use of "X of Y" markers, but these are rare. The trail past Multnomah Falls has them... for awhile... before they drop off the face of the earth.

Another problem is the change in direction. Honestly, when I'm hiking, I usually have a destination in mind. And--when heading for a specific destination, I like taking the most direct route (chalk it up to one too many miles on I-5). With switchbacks, you're stuck traipsing up an interminable incline, only to suddenly switch directions. Half the time, this direction is (or seems to be) exactly opposite the way you want to go.

The final point of contention, which--admittedly--isn't a problem for most non-runners, is that switchbacks mess with concepts of "fast" and "slow". Ordinarily, going up a steep hill is a grindingly slow ordeal, and--correspondingly--going down a steep hill is a terrifying fast trip.  When switchbacks are involved, they make it faster to hustle to the top, and slower to run to the bottom (unless you prefer to ignore them with your best mountain goat imitation).

/end rant

But, far be it from me to judge those who love switchbacks. Where was I? ...or, rather... Brian, Audrey, and I? Angel's Rest, by way of the Wahkeena Falls trail, just west of Multnomah Falls (the link goes by way of the Bridal Veil trailhead, which is about two miles shorter round trip). It's a 6.8 mile hike with about two thousand feet of elevation gain, hence the presence of the detested switchbacks.

Even then, I suppose a hike with friends (and switchbacks) is better than a hike without friends (or switchbacks).

Until next time,
- Daniel

Morning

Mornings are scarier than the boogie monster. At least death by monster isn't a sure thing.

Ah, mornings. They're not all created equal, you know. In fact, this is the time of year when the most sinister mornings come out of the closet. You know what I'm talking about.

Daylight savings time.

It sounds so innocuous. But really, DST is the key ingredient that turns a mundane "Wake up! The sun is shining!" morning into the "Wake up! It's still night, but you gotta get up!" kind of morning. It then proceeds to give me a nudge and a wink as I fumble for my watch in disbelief.

Some of you probably think I'm at the wrong end of the year. DST is supposed to give us more light in the morning, not less. Right?

Technically, yes.

But you're forgetting something. What goes around comes around. DST isn't here forever. Come March 10th of next year, it'll vanish.

And what does that mean for us poor souls who have just become accustomed to the dawn's early light? Darkness. Cold. Misery--each capital letter fully deserved. So, you see, mornings and boogie monsters have something else in common.

Apprehension.

Ah, November. I haven't really missed you. If it weren't for Turkeys and the general festivity that surrounds Thanksgiving and Christmas, I would probably move to some place with maximum sunlight... and no B. Franklin inspired time-shifting maneuvers. A Caribbean island would be a good start.

Because now, even though the sun is shining, I know it's going to leave me, just when I need it the most. When the winter doldrums are over, and the days are getting longer, and I'm breathing a sigh of relief that the worst is over... then, and only then, will DST drop me like a hot potato and ride off into the sunset laughing manically.

A fan of DST... I... am... not.

There's an alternative solution, of course. Why not just stay in bed until the sun rises? An excellent question. By December 21st, Oregonians will enjoy a mere eight hours and forty-two minutes of sunlight per day. While you're soaking in that depressing thought, consider the complementary truth: there'll be fifteen hours and eighteen minutes of potential sleep-time per day as well.

Fifteen hours of sleep. Whoa.

Assuming you don't need to do bothersome things like work or social time, this might be the biggest revelation of your life. In fact, if you suffer from ursus tendencies, this might be the one excuse you needed to start hibernating through the winter. Think about it. What's worse... being a well-rested bear or a sun-deprived human?

:raises hand to the former question:

Until next time,
- Daniel