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

Quotidian Tasks

The science of the routine. How many times do we get through a week, shake our heads, and ask...

"What exactly did I accomplish?"

It's a hard question to answer when you've been on autopilot, as humans are prone to do. Curiously enough, I find that when I'm on autopilot, it's often because I've been doing things that I find enjoyable.

Running a familiar route.

Watching a movie.

Getting up. Going to work. Coming home. (x5)

I wouldn't say that autopilot is morally wrong. And--enjoying life certainly isn't wrong (if I couldn't watch Andy Griffith re-runs, I'm not sure life would be worth living). All the same, I do worry that living life on autopilot causes us to have tunnel vision.

Tunnel vision?

Tunnel vision.

Why take that left turn on that dirt road, when going straight means I'll finish my run in exactly thirty minutes?

Why risk interruptions by reading a book to the family, when watching a movie would keep everyone easily entertained?

Why switch jobs, when I'm "guaranteed" to retire early if I just get up, go to work, and come home every day for the next thirty years?

"But Daniel," you say. "Isn't adventure enjoyable too?"

Most definitely. But see--we often live by the saying that "one in the hand is worth two in the bush." You already have a grouse in hand. That nice, comfortable, autopilot routine. Why risk upsetting the canoe in search of that extra bit of meat?

Many people don't see why they should do such a thing, and go home and cook that bird over a spit. A few people dive into the bushes. Some catch the bird. Some lose the bird they had in the pursuit. All come home with grass stains. But here's the clincher...

...maybe the joy is in the pursuit.

Until next time,
- Daniel

Rock Climbing

Rock climbing is an activity where you attempt to scale sheer cliffs without dying. To help, you're allowed a rope, a carabiner, a harness, and a partner you trust to hold the rope.

If belaying isn't suicidal enough for you, dispense with that partner and try rappelling solo instead. The main benefit is that you won't suffer the humiliation of someone watching you die. The drawback is you end up in a weird Schrödinger's cat sort of situation.

The final tier of adventure is free climbing, where it's you against the rock. No equipment, no friends. Skill against skill alone. If you lose, you get to spend the last few seconds of your existence thinking about how you were outsmarted by a rock.

Now, it's entirely possible that you'd like to experience the thrill of free climbing without becoming a statistic smeared over the rock below. And--fortunately--your wish can be reality.

It's called bouldering.

Take a wall that's no higher than 10 feet or so, put a cushy mat below, and the worst that can happen is a sprained ankle. It's still a thrill, and kind of addictive besides.

I admit it, I went rock climbing today for the first time, and it was immense fun. The Portland Rock Gym is a fantastic indoor arena with options for belaying, rappelling, and bouldering. My brothers and I had a blast, and--two pieces of good luck--the first week is free, and I have next week off from work.

It might turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to my upper body.

Oh, and the best thing? You get to make "Cliffs of Insanity" jokes as much as you want.

Until next time,
- Daniel