tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41897292595097259042024-03-19T01:55:44.967-07:00Rear WindowEric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-72296593067426009602012-04-05T17:23:00.002-07:002012-04-05T17:25:18.358-07:00The end of the trail<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">If you follow my mom's blog, Autumn of Ginny, you might be familiar with the Knackmuhs challenge to visit all 50 states and my parents' recent trip to West Virginia in pursuit of this noble goal. Well, I too, went to West Virginia last week on my trip east. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAF5XW_jXOa_XpBnbJZaGA7MHmlybSPkPgEy9bA_2ffJGqKKfuCUmzY3kKly-7FUwDBTCRnRV3ycoFxoyHucySulHgjvEbHl8E9XXtgVTZchXQHoCUsmrqlj05GbZW-3mD30zT4ts-Snmr/s1600/blogger-image--2100020308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAF5XW_jXOa_XpBnbJZaGA7MHmlybSPkPgEy9bA_2ffJGqKKfuCUmzY3kKly-7FUwDBTCRnRV3ycoFxoyHucySulHgjvEbHl8E9XXtgVTZchXQHoCUsmrqlj05GbZW-3mD30zT4ts-Snmr/s400/blogger-image--2100020308.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the nicer state welcome signs</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I had a great visit at West Virginia University in Morgantown even though it was spring break and thus resembled a ghost town more than a bustling college town. I rode my bike on one of the many "rail trails", bike paths that were once rail tracks, checked out the bike and running stores and met with Professor Dave Smaldone. Just about 12 miles out of town is Cooper's Rock State Forest, a popular hiking, climbing and mountain biking destination.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJSZgOIeYzNeuLzNNi-MW-jpjhnmUqbYfAPP5Cr6iL5Wv4r30YV6qDQ_qK9zCjiBgY9Xl6sytY9EBbggI7P6k_s-98MWglLXhDpDH-E82cM4YSwJeP2cN0NT7ZRfKiWO67HrF62uc89_j7/s1600/blogger-image--1174442878.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJSZgOIeYzNeuLzNNi-MW-jpjhnmUqbYfAPP5Cr6iL5Wv4r30YV6qDQ_qK9zCjiBgY9Xl6sytY9EBbggI7P6k_s-98MWglLXhDpDH-E82cM4YSwJeP2cN0NT7ZRfKiWO67HrF62uc89_j7/s400/blogger-image--1174442878.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the lookout at Cooper's Rock State Forest</td></tr>
</tbody></table>From Morgantown it was on to New Jersey where I experienced one of the great disappointments of the trip. No welcome sign! The only sign I saw as I entered from Pennsylvania on Route 78 was "Delaware River". Needless to say I was outraged! But then again maybe you are NOT welcome in New Jersey and that is why there is no welcome sign. I tried to make up for it by stopping at a rest stop but no sign there either. In desperation, I snapped this photo as I rolled up to a toll on the NJ Turnpike.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqEPPmIM0JS4u518lm8YmGXMSTwA-yjN5AXc5a0EMmT8CeK3UIWnDD9fjPlMsQMi8yXyb1BWWK8HTy2fFTY67Qs5FrbKZaqYqHnA1D2ZDdgYSe4UBMwVbh8X8ckS2NcQcopY5XMEYp8yDG/s1600/blogger-image--1301556863.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqEPPmIM0JS4u518lm8YmGXMSTwA-yjN5AXc5a0EMmT8CeK3UIWnDD9fjPlMsQMi8yXyb1BWWK8HTy2fFTY67Qs5FrbKZaqYqHnA1D2ZDdgYSe4UBMwVbh8X8ckS2NcQcopY5XMEYp8yDG/s400/blogger-image--1301556863.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cue the Sopranos theme song</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>After a day relaxing and repacking at home I was on my way to Catonsville, MD to visit the Leon-Liermans. </div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2W3f4HRYoDIt6UlqKb4Rf_3KULGBzrdqoanmX_JXArVur0KZajk5ViK9zgow20yK91lOTOMEDg9Jo6_MjbdJNH0vJoV3RYquNc-uL-Pbjvjf7Agkn-3E8WN6dXB4pXxqXD2w8IMHOnn5E/s1600/blogger-image-353015642.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2W3f4HRYoDIt6UlqKb4Rf_3KULGBzrdqoanmX_JXArVur0KZajk5ViK9zgow20yK91lOTOMEDg9Jo6_MjbdJNH0vJoV3RYquNc-uL-Pbjvjf7Agkn-3E8WN6dXB4pXxqXD2w8IMHOnn5E/s400/blogger-image-353015642.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If they had bubble machines back then I'm sure Norman Rockwell would have painted this scene.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>Trent and I went for a great run, somehow stretching a 5 mile jog around the neighborhood into a 70 minute odyssey through the nearby trails. Holly is a master chef and cooked some spicy peanut Thai noodles for dinner. Tre, even though he was under the weather, brought out his "A" game to entertain his house guest. After visiting the Leon-Lierman household I was eager to get to my new house at Cape Hatteras. I was the first of my roommates to arrive so I had my choice of bedrooms. I picked the one that faces the back woods so I would have a view out the rear window of course! So far all I've seen is these friendly bunny rabbits.<br />
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Now that I've got a window again I'll try to stay true to my roots and blog about the interesting things I see from that vantage point. However, I hope to not be stuck inside this summer as I often was during the past year so I'll also move beyond my regular programming to include other adventures. It's going to be a good summer!<br />
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</div></div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-83292136573516155792012-04-01T14:24:00.001-07:002012-04-01T14:26:23.594-07:00The final stats are inI made it to Cape Hatteras today. Stay tuned for details and some highlights from the last days of my trip. For now, here are the final stats:<br />
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14 days<br />
5,007 miles<br />
19 states<br />
12 national parks<br />
11 patches<br />
2 oceans<br />
1 driver<br />
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And here's the first of many lighthouse photos. <br />
<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1xYW1KAwssaTlKN6jr1xZMnvEm1b-KefIuylhJmuAbI-P8pKjO2MrUjMD9IWrqesQX8cewPqSKCSW6R2eQt7yJnHsEcoTubUOkSJjQSGN24zaqPnhbpeIxuZ6gYLsyHtqnWbI3_HGs9To/s640/blogger-image-1440285683.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1xYW1KAwssaTlKN6jr1xZMnvEm1b-KefIuylhJmuAbI-P8pKjO2MrUjMD9IWrqesQX8cewPqSKCSW6R2eQt7yJnHsEcoTubUOkSJjQSGN24zaqPnhbpeIxuZ6gYLsyHtqnWbI3_HGs9To/s640/blogger-image-1440285683.jpg" /></a></div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-73054581869012248142012-03-28T19:06:00.001-07:002012-03-28T19:07:51.364-07:00Once in a lifetime...Let's see we've got a few days to catch up on here so let's jump right in...On Monday I made a tactical strike into Indiana to visit IU since I've applied to a PhD program there. On my way back to Kentucky to continue my sightseeing I passed through the town of French Lick, hometown of Boston Celtics legend, Larry Bird. Now you know I've never had anything good to say about Boston sports so this one is for you my Boston friends! Don't expect this to ever, ever happen again!<br />
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If you need a frame of reference check out this clip from the video NBA Superstars that I grew up watching over and over.<br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xb6vhjKijcg">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xb6vhjKijcg</a> <br />
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On Tuesday I was back in Kentucky and took the Jim Beam tour. I thought the most interesting part (besides the tasting at the end) was the trees on the property.<br />
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If you look closely you'll see they are black. It's from a fungus that tends to grow when fermentation is going on nearby, something about alcohol vapor helping it grow. Black trees like these would often give away the location of stills to Revenue Agents during Prohibition. Speaking of trees, can anyone identify the ones in the photo below? I've seen them all over the Southeast from Mississippi to West Virginia.<br />
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Ok that's all for now. Visiting West Virginia University tomorrow then on to Jersey!Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-9836310393074516032012-03-25T21:57:00.000-07:002012-03-25T21:57:01.190-07:00A matter of life and deathToday was another full day to say the least. I visited spots where some famous Americans were born, lived, and died. In the morning I visited the Lorraine Motel in Memphis where Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated.<br />
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</div>He was staying in room 306 and was shot on the balcony just outside the front door where the wreath is hanging. It was quite an experience to see the spot I had first read about as a third-grader working on my famous Americans project. From there I went across town to 1408 Rayner Street, one time hideout of infamous bank robber and kidnapper George "Machine Gun" Kelly.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">He was arrested here on September 26, 1933 and just 17 days later on October 12, 1933 he arrived at the Federal Penitentiary in Leavenworth, KS to begin serving a life sentence. That's right, in just over two weeks he was arrested, tried, convicted, sentenced, and incarcerated! He would die at Leavenworth (after a 17 year "vacation" to Alcatraz) on his 59th birthday. While this house is where Kelly left the free world for good, my next stop was where "The King" entered the world.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGmKdsb0KP2gXkJBXiV_PIs8Wq8AHrsXbsTcTgZv45EM36qmwTtZxNH3KuiSvgkoQWRdwJ0PXrZzDf4h1ez7_y4JebT1XX3AuMV1qx82OfFvUvnYECA6Sx2gOetmcwsi-4p0NA5UFb050T/s1600/the-birthplace-of-elvis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGmKdsb0KP2gXkJBXiV_PIs8Wq8AHrsXbsTcTgZv45EM36qmwTtZxNH3KuiSvgkoQWRdwJ0PXrZzDf4h1ez7_y4JebT1XX3AuMV1qx82OfFvUvnYECA6Sx2gOetmcwsi-4p0NA5UFb050T/s400/the-birthplace-of-elvis.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The birthplace of Elvis Aaron Presley in Tupelo, MS. He only lived in this house until he was three years old but lived in Tupelo until age 13. It was an interesting place and they do a good job telling the story of his childhood and the way it influenced his music and character throughout his life.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Finally, no cross country trip could be complete without a Lewis & Clark site. Just before sunset I made it up the Natchez Trace to the place where Meriweather Lewis died and was buried. Most sources say he was on the way from New Orleans to Washington D.C. to publish his journals. Most historians also call his death a suicide but some say it was murder. In any case, there is a nice memorial to remember him and some new exhibits are being installed.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>I finished the day by driving into Kentucky, my last of the lower 48 to visit! I just need to go to Hawaii and then I'll have visited them all!Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-12154851189120921932012-03-24T21:54:00.001-07:002012-03-24T21:58:21.472-07:00PalsYesterday started in Albuquerque, NM with a pleasant surprise: hot air balloons, just like in tourism advertisements.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I took that as a good omen as I set out to achieve something akin to a childhood dream or one might even call it a pilgrimage. My first destination of the day was Fort Sumner and the grave of William H. Bonney. I traveled not on horseback with a six shooter but in the Jersey Cruiser with my Kindle playing the audio book To Hell on a Fast Horse: Billy the Kid, Pat Garrett, and the Epic Chase to Justice in the Old West by Mark Lee Gardner. The book opens with these lines:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>You can feel the ghosts as you speed down the long, lonely roads of eastern New Mexico. The land is little changed, except for endless strands of wire fence and an occasional traffic sign. Out in the distance, they are there: Billy the Kid and the Regulators, Charlie Bowdre, Tom Folliard, and Pat Garrett. The days may be gone when blood flowed freely along the Pecos and Rio Bonito, but the music of the fandango, and Billy’s dancing, and the lovers’ kisses – all difficult to conjure – are still there. They are in the wind, the moonlight, in the cacophony of coyotes, and in the silence before the first rays of sunlight spill over the horizon.</i></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After about 3 hours at the end of a two lane road cutting between inconspicuous farms and ranches you finally come to it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJdqbbzQAW_VwJ5RR6xT39FcL4bqA16rnGWnbhkS0mcOeN_OnHFyPBdswYWpIAwSqSMjesIkf8IIYanoSD5YHeUj-GQETQqzaUOxjsIWN7Km4KzR_AScEMxSTLBzzIjXuVxsw7KPC5U1dt/s1600/blogger-image--653095035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJdqbbzQAW_VwJ5RR6xT39FcL4bqA16rnGWnbhkS0mcOeN_OnHFyPBdswYWpIAwSqSMjesIkf8IIYanoSD5YHeUj-GQETQqzaUOxjsIWN7Km4KzR_AScEMxSTLBzzIjXuVxsw7KPC5U1dt/s400/blogger-image--653095035.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I was pleased to learn and to see that the legend and the Hollywood ending are (somewhat) true. Do you know the meaning of the word pals? Young Guns: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YX0MiXBrL84">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YX0MiXBrL84</a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Today was also a pilgrimage of sorts. I passed through Fort Smith, AR which is also featured in quite a few Hollywood movies, notably the 2010 re-make of True Grit. But the thing I wanted to see was the wayside sign pictured below for the simple reason that it has a QR code on it (bottom right) that links to an orientation video about the park. I wrote about this in my thesis as a way parks can improve non-personal interpretive services where staffing is low and/or operating hours are limited and cell phone reception is good. So, there it is! Another dream fulfilled.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBL5sSmQkbWVwrRhvbL54uGO5VPMLTR34bA-fOrJl9bXkba_8vh_2XVw2pBycw5M01bNCP1VM8C8yqhKPiQwvTv1KtSTr9a5M1EtCO9pJ1fIQ8UIGtwghBrBrBMbN1AjIBrXJXQthOMz6n/s1600/blogger-image--351336954.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBL5sSmQkbWVwrRhvbL54uGO5VPMLTR34bA-fOrJl9bXkba_8vh_2XVw2pBycw5M01bNCP1VM8C8yqhKPiQwvTv1KtSTr9a5M1EtCO9pJ1fIQ8UIGtwghBrBrBMbN1AjIBrXJXQthOMz6n/s400/blogger-image--351336954.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-6834950700325489462012-03-22T23:28:00.002-07:002012-03-24T21:19:08.173-07:00Instructions to start the dayI stayed at the KOA campground in Flagstaff last night, suffering through a cold night before getting to enjoy a hot shower to start the day. I did not expect to find this sign in the shower. Is that a problem here? Is this a running gag at KOA campgrounds? Perhaps it's real message is to not pee in the shower and by using this message it highlights how disgusting it is to use the shower as a toilet (it's all pipes!) Or maybe being a social media society they figure it's funny enough to get that KOA logo going viral. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge56Qk8OHKWKYk6yK2WiNpykBNNueWkUYoqv-XIKLuUN8p6SAwgfV6TZWB2PjMhBJuU8SgiDRXXLH1rQzaOAHlALbjNp58ob2YYhCOK6prL1-yuRGWxwb2JM7gqlsSVwdOG1MZfosf7q8z/s640/blogger-image--1393526281.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge56Qk8OHKWKYk6yK2WiNpykBNNueWkUYoqv-XIKLuUN8p6SAwgfV6TZWB2PjMhBJuU8SgiDRXXLH1rQzaOAHlALbjNp58ob2YYhCOK6prL1-yuRGWxwb2JM7gqlsSVwdOG1MZfosf7q8z/s400/blogger-image--1393526281.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-27065745150119003632012-03-21T22:21:00.000-07:002012-03-21T22:21:06.463-07:00Fail to plan, plan to failWhen you fail to plan, you plan to fail. This is especially true when traveling during the "off-season". While the lack of crowds means you don't have to worry about making reservations, getting stuck in traffic or waiting in line there are also reduced operating hours for many attractions and roads, parks and campgrounds can be closed. One could safely assume that after the adventures my mom and I had in Italy these lessons would be well known by now but you know what happens when you assume...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_9dRClCigK-hnbBioBh3ukYIMWHw7WzbzTX6Ixg31L8NmGIPNAWvHUfUGQ1OtraMewmscOgkKxtjVkTUH-hEfMJei5B71FU-ax9iu-8codSuV-o2A9l7-xwW7cBw9pkUUH_TOHIbO26nF/s640/blogger-image-1770788854.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_9dRClCigK-hnbBioBh3ukYIMWHw7WzbzTX6Ixg31L8NmGIPNAWvHUfUGQ1OtraMewmscOgkKxtjVkTUH-hEfMJei5B71FU-ax9iu-8codSuV-o2A9l7-xwW7cBw9pkUUH_TOHIbO26nF/s640/blogger-image-1770788854.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">First, the road to Bodie State Historical Site was closed. This was no surprise though as that tends to happen after snowfalls so I had planned for this contingency and continued on to Devil's Postpile National Monument as an alternative stop on the scenic byway that is route 395.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKBg65hHu-USpGaDSrVRUH14UYnd1Pba-qtv7GSmf0iyLj82lWhg9gMipXkeLJICyLw2QqkATQzakfmlkbMbkXE6CaLrheMMIQCSAcwbiY6OAJcCKrca3Y7RWfAUy8_fhRYmySi6nNyqgu/s640/blogger-image-140783477.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKBg65hHu-USpGaDSrVRUH14UYnd1Pba-qtv7GSmf0iyLj82lWhg9gMipXkeLJICyLw2QqkATQzakfmlkbMbkXE6CaLrheMMIQCSAcwbiY6OAJcCKrca3Y7RWfAUy8_fhRYmySi6nNyqgu/s640/blogger-image-140783477.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This I did not anticipate. No matter though, the main activity for the day (besides driving and looking for Bigfoot at Mono Lake, more on that later) was visiting Manzanar National Historic Site. Manzanar, known as a War Relocation Center is where more than 10,000 Japanese Americans were imprisoned during World War II. It is a place that encourages you to think and remember that this happened. In light of recent NYPD surveillance of Muslim Americans I think it is an especially important place to see and talk about.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_VD_Uv2s1ONbqHnbkl1eDJgMR2K2NZE9NgVbFlhBmLzhHM6oMpwk5RUYfBLkxOXA2drRUiS5OG02BolRa_xk2Rur5Fel5INyJm6quETNKSsYraAKLNZ-mvcyzj3xRsNzvufOzJCU2Jj7F/s1600/blogger-image--765696424.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_VD_Uv2s1ONbqHnbkl1eDJgMR2K2NZE9NgVbFlhBmLzhHM6oMpwk5RUYfBLkxOXA2drRUiS5OG02BolRa_xk2Rur5Fel5INyJm6quETNKSsYraAKLNZ-mvcyzj3xRsNzvufOzJCU2Jj7F/s400/blogger-image--765696424.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If I were a photographer or artist I'd call this "Shadow of Racism". It's the small cemetery at Manzanar. The monument's inscription says "Soul Consoling Tower".</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now, because the other sites were closed I thought I'd have a great chance at making it to Death Valley and setting up camp before night fall...and I did. I made it to Stovepipe Wells and the campground was full! You see California is a crazy place. In one day's drive you go to places that are closed because of winter weather conditions and places that are packed with crowds because of the 80 degree days of cloudless sunshine. March is not the off-season at Death Valley. So I decided to continue on to Furnace Creek, which was, of course, closed.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsX7v4tAm-xoYEU7HWYCz9DcgbxjFEYnaz2YILjSQgwNZQ5DF2Rc5_a08qIkeu8-LocYbZv2xzkRzuei2trxhw-PmRg90gq_gLGlnXZ18KDkYTjRyTlj581jzL67_JQVXUDLmkqWw-lyom/s640/blogger-image--753858604.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsX7v4tAm-xoYEU7HWYCz9DcgbxjFEYnaz2YILjSQgwNZQ5DF2Rc5_a08qIkeu8-LocYbZv2xzkRzuei2trxhw-PmRg90gq_gLGlnXZ18KDkYTjRyTlj581jzL67_JQVXUDLmkqWw-lyom/s640/blogger-image--753858604.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apparently this campground was closed last month</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Luckily, there are two other campgrounds within a mile so I finally settled in for the night and enjoyed the night sky on a moonless night! Today the lessons of yesterday were not well remembered. I had a great morning in Death Valley, enjoyed the drive to Arizona and then tried to squeeze in some national park action before sundown. Unfortunately, when Walnut Canyon says they are open 9am - 5pm they mean it. It's not just the Visitor's Center that closes but the whole park!<br />
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<div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiELlHxyw5Xozxibd7Z9NB4iD08zC7Fr7eVUVFgDvWLhAUcd6nqKR2ZmcYxuBDo6w3HD3TadnpQxzwrinaS1Y1g1CcfLDSMTC2kBX4a5yOewuArwampqFSBSmk5KvyFMITBiIKE8VIpbDoi/s640/blogger-image--2009896760.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiELlHxyw5Xozxibd7Z9NB4iD08zC7Fr7eVUVFgDvWLhAUcd6nqKR2ZmcYxuBDo6w3HD3TadnpQxzwrinaS1Y1g1CcfLDSMTC2kBX4a5yOewuArwampqFSBSmk5KvyFMITBiIKE8VIpbDoi/s640/blogger-image--2009896760.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The road into Walnut Canyon National Monument</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Tonight I am at a KOA campground off the highway in Flagstaff carefully planning every detail of tomorrow's adventure. God willing in less than 48 hours I will be able to update you on how it all went. Finally, I promised nothing more than a photo of the day during this trip so don't be surprised if this is the last time I ramble at length. Thanks for reading! See you further on up the road!</div></div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-32487050976536613532012-03-19T13:12:00.004-07:002012-03-21T20:50:20.479-07:00Underway!It took a few hours of jackassing things around (notably bikes and surfboard) but the Jersey Cruiser was pointed towards Jersey by 11 am today. We should start a pool as to how many times I'll have to stop to readjust bikes and the surfboard. So far it's been once. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQh8GgjEdmRBfN_Z_zzVlL5I1GDWVaffaMmhUxIHqY8hmpBnc9B8YGub3JMFSAawTYxFHfkD_tngjznIM3J2WuOfQl7QJ0YDcWW9O9nWRcfQHKr2HVhhdQ7KwGAFuoo5UEFhMAlvN3iGNg/s640/blogger-image-274377973.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQh8GgjEdmRBfN_Z_zzVlL5I1GDWVaffaMmhUxIHqY8hmpBnc9B8YGub3JMFSAawTYxFHfkD_tngjznIM3J2WuOfQl7QJ0YDcWW9O9nWRcfQHKr2HVhhdQ7KwGAFuoo5UEFhMAlvN3iGNg/s400/blogger-image-274377973.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9sSxPAtEcwuEegbtT8C2yapF-NBfyNRtn49X9FQn96t7LY3CViLjpSAROhq0JJ9e9PFhTH9X_4n4mtcC1oKO2UE3K2HxH1bwZwxo0mDVxn_apQsLGihyphenhyphenOG9v4FjC1uYKaWpsAm1JK7uZs/s640/blogger-image-66415213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9sSxPAtEcwuEegbtT8C2yapF-NBfyNRtn49X9FQn96t7LY3CViLjpSAROhq0JJ9e9PFhTH9X_4n4mtcC1oKO2UE3K2HxH1bwZwxo0mDVxn_apQsLGihyphenhyphenOG9v4FjC1uYKaWpsAm1JK7uZs/s400/blogger-image-66415213.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-70506919268511880722012-03-18T23:15:00.000-07:002012-03-18T23:15:59.864-07:00Don't let it end like this. Tell them I said something."Don't let it end like this. Tell them I said something." These were supposedly the last words of famed Mexican Revolution General Pancho Villa. As tonight is my last in San Francisco (I won't say ever because my mom always says never say never and I assume the same applies to ever) I was hoping to write a blog entry that would sum up my experience here, reflect on some of the important milestones I've passed and maybe even impart some wisdom from my time as a Californian, dude. However, I was so busy wrapping up loose ends at work, attending and presenting at the NAI Region 9 Workshop in Yosemite this weekend and trying to pack up all my stuff that I just haven't had the time for such reflection. So this is how the last Rear Window entry from San Francisco ends, not with anything profound but just a couple of random memories that came to mind as I was packing and visiting with friends today. In no particular order, here are just a few of my favorite memories.<div><br />
</div><div>-The excitement of moving to San Francisco and getting an apartment with Sarah Kaufman and Nate Rogers.</div><div>-The Giants winning the World Series and meeting Tim Lincecum the following week. By the way, Drew and I carried the orange lights onto Alcatraz that lit up the lighthouse during the Series.</div><div>-Seeing Barry Bonds break the home run record at AT&T Park with Adam.</div><div>-Getting my first public speaking experiences at Alcatraz.</div><div>-Delivering programs with Drew, especially on my last day.</div><div>-Hearing Cheriena sing House of the Rising Sun at Carmen's.</div><div>-Hiking Half Dome with Angie.</div><div>-Best roommates Zack, Allie and Brendan.</div><div>-Crab fishing with Tara.</div><div>-Trail running in the Presidio.</div><div>-Moon rises and sunsets at Alcatraz.</div><div>-And finally, since I will be heading to Reno tomorrow on my trip east, here is a short video highlight from my 2010 visit there when I met the world famous Reno Stephanie. </div><div><a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=388687517366&set=t.568127366&type=3">http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=388687517366&set=t.568127366&type=3</a> </div><div><br />
</div><div>Well, wow, I guess that was more than a few but thank you everyone for all the great times! I am looking forward to the new adventures ahead. I will do my best to keep you all posted with a "photo of the day" as I make my trip east as Rear Window will become Rear View Window for the next two weeks.</div><div><br />
</div><div>P.S. This was the first Rear Window post that had nothing to do with looking out the window. I did have a lot of other great ideas that I never got around to writing up but I'll save them for another time.</div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-155399482370496742012-03-08T11:29:00.001-08:002012-03-08T11:34:07.623-08:00A plan of actionWell, about six weeks ago I claimed to haver resumed blogging but, oh my goodness, I didn't even write one blog entry in all of February! I have a really good excuse though...I was busy. This time not with school work but with planning the next phase of my life. After weeks of exploring different options, gathering information and agonizing over decisions, I've got a plan of action. It looks something like this:<br />
<br />
Step 1. Quit your job.<br />
Step 2. Drive across the country.<br />
Step 3. Start new job.<br />
Step 4. Repeat steps 1-3.<br />
<br />
Some of you may recognize this as a similar plan to the one carried out in 2006. This time, sadly, I don't know when or if I'll ever return to live in San Francisco. I will, however, fulfilll my dream to be a National Park Service ranger by spending the summer at Cape Hatteras National Seashore. It will also give me an opportunity to achieve another dream I've had since moving to San Francisco: wearing shorts in the summer. I think this is the last time I can remember wearing shorts!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi477r5-Vdc_ehel05A6lPMkQfY-FPpwsYg-ouWPDON7Q2KhrhquIjsWQqJziOEjCVx7-LnaSRL9yTJ6vPKLACLiygRfF3YqyF1M95xC_qpWgK1TtXse5nQDIXimz12nPSesGxqlZBrRxXx/s1600/Moving+to+CA.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi477r5-Vdc_ehel05A6lPMkQfY-FPpwsYg-ouWPDON7Q2KhrhquIjsWQqJziOEjCVx7-LnaSRL9yTJ6vPKLACLiygRfF3YqyF1M95xC_qpWgK1TtXse5nQDIXimz12nPSesGxqlZBrRxXx/s320/Moving+to+CA.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moving to California...September 2003. Note the bike-laden Sentra.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I've applied to some Ph.D. programs and will likely apply to some winter seasonal park ranger jobs as well so I don't know where I'll be in six months but I'm looking forward to the adventure! As I prepare to leave San Francisco I leave you with this parting shot taken as I put the finishing touches on my thesis.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-MGH8PRG591-3ERvykc0wWwhw9RcKBXfPqyha3MVZF2OzEt4tuOt1x6_dbpBhY01JbJfBhO6lfRsWjTeGWhyphenhyphenOJwDFZ-xWxgr1Hnztzm-D4EYsSD0aR_QcJRR0Qlqp2nNxpk9cRDvENxJl/s1600/FinishedThesis.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-MGH8PRG591-3ERvykc0wWwhw9RcKBXfPqyha3MVZF2OzEt4tuOt1x6_dbpBhY01JbJfBhO6lfRsWjTeGWhyphenhyphenOJwDFZ-xWxgr1Hnztzm-D4EYsSD0aR_QcJRR0Qlqp2nNxpk9cRDvENxJl/s320/FinishedThesis.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sun finally sets on my thesis</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-59140639525406622272012-01-25T21:15:00.000-08:002012-01-25T21:16:45.137-08:00Just when I thought I was out...<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">It’s the much anticipated return of Rear Window! During the last few months I was too busy finishing my master’s thesis to devote time to any creative outlets that involved more sitting in front of a computer. On Monday, the final, final draft was printed, bound, signed and placed in the library at Stephen F. Austin State University. Whew! </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">It was a longer journey than I had anticipated. When I started in the fall of 2008, I thought I’d finish in the spring of 2010. Things didn’t exactly work out that way so there I was in November of 2011 just weeks away from my last hurdle before graduating, the thesis defense. Or so I thought. It turns out that after your thesis defense there are always edits and rewrites that need to be done before the final printing. So the final work was not due until January 10<sup>th</sup>, then that was pushed back to January 23<sup>rd</sup>, then it was suggested that I submit an article to Legacy magazine based on my thesis research, then a journal article should be written, then consider going on for the Ph.D. I kept thinking I was done only to learn of a new project and/or more work. I felt a little like Michael Corleone in Godfather III.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://1.gvt0.com/vi/UPw-3e_pzqU/0.jpg"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UPw-3e_pzqU&fs=1&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UPw-3e_pzqU&fs=1&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">All that work though brings a lot of good news and new opportunities so here’s the big announcement for 2012. I’m thinking really hard about going on for my Ph.D. I've pretty much decided I'll do it but whenever there is a big life decision to make one should always turn to the philosophical teachings of Seinfeld and/or The Simpsons. In the case of more graduate school, it’s The Simpsons who offer advice.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/XViCOAu6UC0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">So while I take these insights under consideration I’ll be back here with my weekly observations of things I see out the window. I’ve got some backlogged stories to get started. See you next week!</div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-45685193527051512272011-11-03T23:13:00.000-07:002011-11-03T23:13:25.862-07:00On HiatusWell, you might have noticed (or not) that I haven't posted anything in a about a month. I've been too busy working on my thesis to find time to do any more writing so my creative outlet has been moved down the priority list. I announce today that Rear Window is officially on hiatus until January 2012 when I will have time to share with you many more exciting stories witnessed from my window including the ghost ship, the woman who steals playground equipment and the "naked ladies" who died across the street. Don't worry it's all G rated. See you soon! Thanks for reading!Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-70672811984199052682011-10-05T21:38:00.000-07:002011-10-05T21:45:14.767-07:00Aboard Balclutha<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">As promised, I finally paid the <i>Balclutha</i> a visit last week. You may remember the <i>Balclutha </i>from such blog posts as <span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue; text-decoration: none;"><a href="http://thingsiseeoutthewindow.blogspot.com/2011/09/my-ship-has-come-in.html" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">My ship has come in!</span></a> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: none;">and </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue; text-decoration: none;"><a href="http://thingsiseeoutthewindow.blogspot.com/2011/09/pox-on-this-house.html" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">A pox on this house!?</span></a> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: none;">It was a brilliant sunny day when I arrived just in time for the 2:15 pm ranger tour. It was led by a volunteer who was very charming and knowledgeable. We heard all about the hardships of life aboard during the age of sail. Although I admit that while rocking gently at the pier on a warm sunny day made it a little more difficult to imagine. A group of 5th graders were participating in an overnight program that puts them to work so they can experience the life of a sailor firsthand. It seemed really neat! Here's a short photographic tour of my experience.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'IM Fell English SC';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtKfS5F05e_6o5UmGMb7_O3NCpkrzQF94f-3ZqXPbBcsvEFomFYv8AVpKkhIf21YLR5JDA6QOMyS1-4ns-H49A_VtNQUq63u_g1OQR0XY8bZgajxuGApnztsAuF1_5ZuEIvWwsiUycndMb/s1600/005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtKfS5F05e_6o5UmGMb7_O3NCpkrzQF94f-3ZqXPbBcsvEFomFYv8AVpKkhIf21YLR5JDA6QOMyS1-4ns-H49A_VtNQUq63u_g1OQR0XY8bZgajxuGApnztsAuF1_5ZuEIvWwsiUycndMb/s400/005.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Land Ho!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU_qpVkBCfhzbJ2ubyy-9JukCvWZ_ubtQJaVSiwkt7R59vcT5ikvQTpuFIX4vWuaCHcRhwewh6f1GtH44qi6OH-RdNJWxcz-gHu8u8DB4gFmFi9T43X80USNaDWezIjF1e4JDpR4l64mkU/s1600/006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU_qpVkBCfhzbJ2ubyy-9JukCvWZ_ubtQJaVSiwkt7R59vcT5ikvQTpuFIX4vWuaCHcRhwewh6f1GtH44qi6OH-RdNJWxcz-gHu8u8DB4gFmFi9T43X80USNaDWezIjF1e4JDpR4l64mkU/s400/006.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the beginning of a voyage sometimes they'd keep a pig in here...for awhile</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlSuPBJLgJ6eK9KtRaV3fEPDNp4F8VxWFpOGuE-LZH7dW8b3ovFrs31akwvFUlUQKC4g1wdjOwnRM0OTiUA8oxqsZ0DChbIr4E0sRM1kJzIT8iqNwSlyhIk_iGwl-VdFmY16-KgYlq7tVY/s1600/007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlSuPBJLgJ6eK9KtRaV3fEPDNp4F8VxWFpOGuE-LZH7dW8b3ovFrs31akwvFUlUQKC4g1wdjOwnRM0OTiUA8oxqsZ0DChbIr4E0sRM1kJzIT8iqNwSlyhIk_iGwl-VdFmY16-KgYlq7tVY/s400/007.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Captain's quarters</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_rsJQrjSgtryANEIEL-0xltS09TMosRAHuPPpVDzA5pFDDakNvoJmy3-nGk9x7RPztrqlgGS-PiEerYJQFzXOgjfzNIRjQETof99iOCQ0YyL5nblD13p9SHpJ51_dINR8HO7HZe8M6n2W/s1600/008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_rsJQrjSgtryANEIEL-0xltS09TMosRAHuPPpVDzA5pFDDakNvoJmy3-nGk9x7RPztrqlgGS-PiEerYJQFzXOgjfzNIRjQETof99iOCQ0YyL5nblD13p9SHpJ51_dINR8HO7HZe8M6n2W/s400/008.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Captain's bathroom</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXus9FPxLXVh6-FYNQEVYedBJYpyzrJnlMi_audwFu2oPX7Pkg-QNWo291EElfI5uac_K0qwJeNxakdnTmY5Z8a1E4nn4bWznoS3iSCfto4DI5m6tmQZIZFUu39qgJUoUxJt3y307QP0eX/s1600/010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXus9FPxLXVh6-FYNQEVYedBJYpyzrJnlMi_audwFu2oPX7Pkg-QNWo291EElfI5uac_K0qwJeNxakdnTmY5Z8a1E4nn4bWznoS3iSCfto4DI5m6tmQZIZFUu39qgJUoUxJt3y307QP0eX/s400/010.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sacks of grain...<i>Balclutha's </i>career included the second "gold rush"...grain.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNjakNnsPPiewVnq3ZjoCbstdMzjWn06n9zcAlouMxdvgSg-QEL0FjfQkU1zQ5L0IIy26ZqZr_o0wCyvu14e8zwKEM0huMPfxOVHu_xytzsIz9JjRRDxYt4UpOWTi3yMcs7911OPIL14Zo/s1600/011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNjakNnsPPiewVnq3ZjoCbstdMzjWn06n9zcAlouMxdvgSg-QEL0FjfQkU1zQ5L0IIy26ZqZr_o0wCyvu14e8zwKEM0huMPfxOVHu_xytzsIz9JjRRDxYt4UpOWTi3yMcs7911OPIL14Zo/s400/011.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As well as hauling Salmon from Alaska and canned fruit from the Cannery on Fisherman's Wharf</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlGxN6oPyai7nVV8d2LUjyERTxHS7r9PwlwHXgFhQp5MZbba7FLYydk7ZBBFsFc2Qrca3ar251_nrM7Y-3VNgWfbVCowat6FB8RzhIZjRZ_scjrp8lUOZ7Y-E2xTzq8Wrays1qCA8K_TaP/s1600/014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlGxN6oPyai7nVV8d2LUjyERTxHS7r9PwlwHXgFhQp5MZbba7FLYydk7ZBBFsFc2Qrca3ar251_nrM7Y-3VNgWfbVCowat6FB8RzhIZjRZ_scjrp8lUOZ7Y-E2xTzq8Wrays1qCA8K_TaP/s400/014.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two SF icons. There was no mention of stocking up on Ghirardelli chocolate before long voyages.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge3spxX2VsSWS8l6F3ZaK3K37_srRzj2frcyndLBCpuSJQtxmWFSKzjlB2H0cqZDoqAIWLrq6WHrnoUPwY06SowC86X3t32UrnudekEIlWEvBNME5QVQCd0ZH6lKxC0cwyh8XsJOhxztei/s1600/022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge3spxX2VsSWS8l6F3ZaK3K37_srRzj2frcyndLBCpuSJQtxmWFSKzjlB2H0cqZDoqAIWLrq6WHrnoUPwY06SowC86X3t32UrnudekEIlWEvBNME5QVQCd0ZH6lKxC0cwyh8XsJOhxztei/s400/022.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two more SF icons</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicxnrD4m5BXyPBF_UEvsSvFIGg-jf4SB98z8KHsCewDkZIs-VGNA9T4Ihez9OPSTVII99O97yfOKvjhz7lh5tI51fiFaHvsThaLxP9Jvh9uEc8KE-ngruGh7PT7ZATC6HzE4eXTP7h13wT/s1600/026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicxnrD4m5BXyPBF_UEvsSvFIGg-jf4SB98z8KHsCewDkZIs-VGNA9T4Ihez9OPSTVII99O97yfOKvjhz7lh5tI51fiFaHvsThaLxP9Jvh9uEc8KE-ngruGh7PT7ZATC6HzE4eXTP7h13wT/s400/026.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Commercial shipping: then and now</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTAvo9DwpprrEnX528xcReQLmSPJwjk-BTLqKKUBUQGcvE4w9WDwB9AAQZ5XD50eDyieAmL_ZZIf5vXW8t5lzAfnz30fh4Cbb1XBjblmKUnn0u07-bp0EA3ryk5Porpnmjh5hLoHMiujel/s1600/030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTAvo9DwpprrEnX528xcReQLmSPJwjk-BTLqKKUBUQGcvE4w9WDwB9AAQZ5XD50eDyieAmL_ZZIf5vXW8t5lzAfnz30fh4Cbb1XBjblmKUnn0u07-bp0EA3ryk5Porpnmjh5hLoHMiujel/s400/030.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ranger Al even made an appearance</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;">If you get the chance definitely pay a visit to San Francisco Maritime National Historical Park because the other ships were also really interesting and the exhibits and tours are very well done! </span></span>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-1092211587185136952011-09-22T11:32:00.000-07:002011-09-22T11:32:07.161-07:00A pox on this house!?<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Last week I reported that I would pay a visit to San Francisco Maritime National Historical Park to explore the historic ship <i>Balclutha</i>. Tours of the <i>Balclutha</i> are offered by your friendly National Park Service Rangers at 2:15 pm each day. Unfortunately, this was not a convenient time for me this week so the <i>Balclutha</i> will have to wait yet another week. So, I share with you a different story.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">I got home from work a few weeks ago and I was delighted to see the stairwell light had been replaced. I could actually see the front door and get my key in without the usual routine of balancing my bike on my shoulder while feeling around for the door knob, cursing all the while. Unfortunately, in the morning I saw that there was some “collateral damage” to the light bulb replacement. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM6C1_QYYVckb7cUxIkjRCIqe9riIoYTzj-XSrrUIZuoIuG2BmvZ0KUrUB_-Zhju8xkswuEyUC5jutaJzxPw8loo8wFOrhfzVzo-0HKoWUuvavuGf_JidAMp4bv2B07w7f8fbFizIE1Pvy/s1600/swallow+nest+missing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM6C1_QYYVckb7cUxIkjRCIqe9riIoYTzj-XSrrUIZuoIuG2BmvZ0KUrUB_-Zhju8xkswuEyUC5jutaJzxPw8loo8wFOrhfzVzo-0HKoWUuvavuGf_JidAMp4bv2B07w7f8fbFizIE1Pvy/s400/swallow+nest+missing.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A nice new light fixture, but what's missing here?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">The barn swallows, the longest tenured residents of Stilwell Road were unceremoniously evicted with the one fell swoop of a heavy-handed government worker. But they didn’t merely discard the nest. They put it in the box the new light fixture had come in and left it on the landing…as a warning to other barn swallows? To give the kids downstairs an item for show & tell? To offer a sort of coffin for the unborn baby birds? </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5BLA0aw-eCxPiyT4-1bFkUDRVHo8oU7sqUjMu8DPVWyhCsReV3UO_EEWhhg_lTA-71opzdt6dxj6ZFXpDalQRAtNPoQqMKt6-p3w6c7qiKSJ3YNdRBOmb2O4x2KggUYXkADY-b484pj85/s1600/swallow+nest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5BLA0aw-eCxPiyT4-1bFkUDRVHo8oU7sqUjMu8DPVWyhCsReV3UO_EEWhhg_lTA-71opzdt6dxj6ZFXpDalQRAtNPoQqMKt6-p3w6c7qiKSJ3YNdRBOmb2O4x2KggUYXkADY-b484pj85/s400/swallow+nest.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nest with eggs inside the cardboard box</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Most likely they set it down and forgot about it but that mistake could cost the rest of us. According to Webster’s, (<i>Encyclopedia of Superstitions</i>, that is) it is very bad mojo indeed to mess with a swallow nest. It is said to be good luck to see a swallow flying in the air and bad luck to hurt a swallow or damage its nest. Doing so can cause your cows to give bloody milk or cause your hens to lay no eggs. It is good luck if a swallow nests at your house because it protects everyone inside. However, it is bad luck if a swallow builds a nest at your house and then leaves it unexpectedly. This means the house will be destroyed by fire!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Now I don’t consider myself an especially superstitious person but in the last two weeks a swallow nest was damaged, I read a book called <i>The Big Burn</i>, about the largest wildfire in US history and noticed that this was the state of the smoke detectors in our house. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUWckl7-BFrtB3C6SGTlMq37GA0jx097H2PVccemTX05x3ZHfz3lAuWi1G8qMWcPqNBmLSD_MPOWnWfrdxn34mWzVkayriEJwiEtbQa8ox8ZiVAypXUbqVc_xVwO1xPqS_R7mqUhtyRvSF/s1600/011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUWckl7-BFrtB3C6SGTlMq37GA0jx097H2PVccemTX05x3ZHfz3lAuWi1G8qMWcPqNBmLSD_MPOWnWfrdxn34mWzVkayriEJwiEtbQa8ox8ZiVAypXUbqVc_xVwO1xPqS_R7mqUhtyRvSF/s400/011.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sitting on the kitchen table with no batteries</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">So I took two very important steps to avert the curse. One, I put the swallow nest back in its place. Two, I put the smoke detectors back in theirs. Now, if I can just see one more swallow fly by my window this season it just might bring me some of that good luck back. Anybody know any other things you can put in your house for good luck?<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVhY4uRkLl1mAkolhXb90C6bETvfPTDqR36xZOqMv7VSan8bPipTYXrbOCAk7LO7B8FPb7hf9O4JXGA9VLElPU91BbVWNjncl9bxiBGnALiB_CgskoEppNhwoSCzP0KNniUqPDVtrf_-p-/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVhY4uRkLl1mAkolhXb90C6bETvfPTDqR36xZOqMv7VSan8bPipTYXrbOCAk7LO7B8FPb7hf9O4JXGA9VLElPU91BbVWNjncl9bxiBGnALiB_CgskoEppNhwoSCzP0KNniUqPDVtrf_-p-/s400/002.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's better</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-61572031182767739142011-09-16T12:02:00.000-07:002011-09-16T12:04:31.350-07:00My ship has come in!<div class="MsoNormal">On August 5<sup>th</sup>, during our adventures in Alaska, I saw the Celebrity <i>Millenium</i> cruise ship from the window of our hotel room in Seward, AK.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjMWtf2_DoPQ2HrprPWmCd_f7G06kpO5NMqXrZtQpc8rhg0DeyuiWTMPKF7hjiIvqCytjO2l96d9e3T3-oFdaHoTxEMeuNcZHHtflUUZtYY9g-v3fuRYIiGY6DRY4obMgLKA_gDWTOCssR/s1600/IMG_6620.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjMWtf2_DoPQ2HrprPWmCd_f7G06kpO5NMqXrZtQpc8rhg0DeyuiWTMPKF7hjiIvqCytjO2l96d9e3T3-oFdaHoTxEMeuNcZHHtflUUZtYY9g-v3fuRYIiGY6DRY4obMgLKA_gDWTOCssR/s400/IMG_6620.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">What I actually was photographing was the container ship beside it being loaded with coal. We learned later it carries 700 train cars worth! Nevertheless, I made a note in my journal of the cruise ship’s name and a mental note to be on the lookout for it coming to port in San Francisco.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As always, I’ve kept one eye out the window and casually noted the name of any cruise ships that entered the bay. None was the <i>Millenium, </i>in fact, none was even a Celebrity ship. Like the wife of a 19<sup>th</sup> century whaler, I started to wonder if my ship would ever come in. On Wednesday, the wait finally ended! I was lucky enough to be at the window when the <i>Millenium</i> finally cruised back into town. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZA9c4hPYw7uxMiD9fsE-hj9_3ZgYv-X8ytgE7WwW5xB_xH1PnzHwPMQiy26SaSzfCcGiyiTY8KM4AxnshoylfMAn36Lz4HeTnCxQUHftLsApgM-N65hY2-g3ukvV5JubLVVBiuEPlEXQV/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZA9c4hPYw7uxMiD9fsE-hj9_3ZgYv-X8ytgE7WwW5xB_xH1PnzHwPMQiy26SaSzfCcGiyiTY8KM4AxnshoylfMAn36Lz4HeTnCxQUHftLsApgM-N65hY2-g3ukvV5JubLVVBiuEPlEXQV/s400/002.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A slow reaction time prevented a better photo so you'll have to take my word for it that it is the same ship. In any case, it appears the <i>Millenium</i> has finished the Alaska season as it is next heading to San Diego and then south through the Panama Canal to Miami for Caribbean tours all winter. This summer, it’s been a pretty a common occurrence to see tourists sail out the Golden Gate, up to Alaska and back. However, long before anyone made the journey for vacation, hundreds of men crammed onto Alaska-bound ships to make a living. One such ship was the flag ship of the San Francisco Maritime National Historical Park at Hyde Street Pier, the <i>Balclutha</i>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjseBraALSrNa1uG1ZQOfvAs1XlYtC6qtyP1L8amYcX6OVSqtIygHykVt-olLT7ssox23CSRXQF2_sTTvouPmQDtiZJhoCInxK9Yt9A5ghfwxuaKx51o8IYSaiwEFhsG2-UMH4ryE9eAJkR/s1600/balcluthamain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjseBraALSrNa1uG1ZQOfvAs1XlYtC6qtyP1L8amYcX6OVSqtIygHykVt-olLT7ssox23CSRXQF2_sTTvouPmQDtiZJhoCInxK9Yt9A5ghfwxuaKx51o8IYSaiwEFhsG2-UMH4ryE9eAJkR/s400/balcluthamain.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This ship first entered San Francisco Bay in 1887 after a 140 day maiden voyage from Cardiff, Wales. They brought coal, unloaded it, loaded a cargo of wheat and went back ‘round the horn to Wales. One round trip per year. Later, she was purchased by the Alaska Packers Association and renamed the <i>Star of Alaska</i>. Up to 200 men would make the journey north to work the summer in a salmon cannery in Chignik Bay, Alaska.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi16KvySoFXLvTHCD6ArLLkW0yMmioh9EoekJJuCWXgZ9Sz5RwGQP1Ozw9ZbzqsO-NqU3Ga2_0-Jy0lynTWvvChgscFwsIIzOR9dpdkPEafKR14O2huXU773hTXLN99OFR5zAOjVeo1VcWk/s1600/balinheavyseas_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi16KvySoFXLvTHCD6ArLLkW0yMmioh9EoekJJuCWXgZ9Sz5RwGQP1Ozw9ZbzqsO-NqU3Ga2_0-Jy0lynTWvvChgscFwsIIzOR9dpdkPEafKR14O2huXU773hTXLN99OFR5zAOjVeo1VcWk/s400/balinheavyseas_1.jpg" width="297" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">By September the ship would be loaded with a cargo of canned salmon and the men would return to the San Francisco Bay with tall tales of the adventures they had. Someone should’ve made a TV show about it! The <i>Star of Alaska</i> made the trip every year until 1930 when they realized there were salmon right here in California. Actually, I don’t know why the ship went out of service then but it was eventually restored and the name was changed back to the <i>Balclutha</i>. I’ve gone past it several times a week for the majority of the 8 years I’ve lived in San Francisco but I’ve never been taken the tour. This week, I’ll finally do it and let you know what I find out!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-24541923940951675032011-09-13T17:27:00.000-07:002011-09-13T17:27:16.860-07:00Rear Window premieres!...again<div class="MsoNormal">Alfred Hitchcock’s <i>Rear Window</i> premiered at the Rivoli Theatre in New York City on August 4, 1954. So, before August was out I held my own <i>Rear Window </i>screening party at the living room theater of Stilwell Road. The 1954 premiere was a benefit for the American-Korean Foundation, an aide organization formed at the end of the Korean War and was attended by more than 2,000 United Nations officials, entertainers and social leaders.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju0JGEWarYIcEiZ5q3IzA9ylkrXWUA_ZL0wl_9XCg2vxRKuHs-ZuwLXB9ypcaDYmHuIgog_mFR_hiABNwlWFtARz7VfOYV3DrWcnYpX8gHbA-hq4wfobNH-BxPwmJ8JGKzSXKYPUR06BWt/s1600/GraceKelly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju0JGEWarYIcEiZ5q3IzA9ylkrXWUA_ZL0wl_9XCg2vxRKuHs-ZuwLXB9ypcaDYmHuIgog_mFR_hiABNwlWFtARz7VfOYV3DrWcnYpX8gHbA-hq4wfobNH-BxPwmJ8JGKzSXKYPUR06BWt/s320/GraceKelly.jpg" width="208" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grace Kelly at the premiere</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">The 2011 viewing was attended by more than 7 tree-hugging hippies, film buffs and park rangers and benefited no one in particular. The world premiere at the Rivoli Theatre was shown on an enormous slightly rounded screen that gave the audience the illusion of peripheral vision. The effect must have been especially effective for a movie filmed largely through the eyes of one character. We watched on a 24 inch Sanyo but had the benefit of something more rare and enjoyable than a large screen, Elana's Blackberry Cake, but I digress. The <i>New York Times</i> published mostly favorable reviews of <i>Rear Window</i> following the premiere. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">They described Hitchcock as “the old thrill-billy” whose film is “morbidly entertaining” and exposes us to the “boorish but fascinating pastime of peeking into other people’s homes – a thing that New York apartment dwellers have a slight disposition to do.” Can anyone in NYC tell me if New Yorkers still have a disposition to do such a thing? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Despite being listed #22 on IMDB’s top 250 movies of all time, today’s audience gave more of a mixed review. Some thought it was a little slow, especially by today’s standards, some enjoyed the building of the suspense and the girls all enjoyed discussing Grace Kelly’s dresses. One moviegoer expressed surprise…not by the ending of the movie but that he liked it at all. “I thought it was going to be another one of Eric’s weird movies but I was surprised. I actually liked it” said park ranger Matt Eng. So I’d say the first ever <i>Rear Window</i> viewing party was a smashing success. </div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-3594231391197765852011-09-01T12:30:00.000-07:002011-09-01T12:42:52.688-07:00Imitation is the Highest Form of Flattery<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Our living room looks out towards Lobos Creek and the houses of the Richmond/Seacliff neighborhoods beyond. Most everyone knows Robin Williams is the most famous of Seacliff residents. Escape from Alcatraz Triathlon organizers even use his house as a reference point to explain the bike route. But there used to be an equally famous resident of the same neighborhood, Ansel Adams. I remember watching a documentary about him once that talked about how he lived out on the edge of town overlooking sand dunes and the ocean. So I decided to figure out exactly where his house was. It took only a quick google search to discover the house and a quick look out the living room window to discover I could see his house from my own! <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIyXGgqaUuPgbAQL8HPMhf1_szokM2R0jii4Cz6ygCfiel7ig1NQXNIUldeUFv6LNBzO2yKxf-m3nlMGF0YeQWBkbnd-qcPWBwsUlBq9Nr__HPPsLllUa7ov1LCTewL-UEH1SlhOmPXPIt/s1600/045+Adams.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIyXGgqaUuPgbAQL8HPMhf1_szokM2R0jii4Cz6ygCfiel7ig1NQXNIUldeUFv6LNBzO2yKxf-m3nlMGF0YeQWBkbnd-qcPWBwsUlBq9Nr__HPPsLllUa7ov1LCTewL-UEH1SlhOmPXPIt/s400/045+Adams.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">OK, so you have to know where to train your eagle eye but there it is.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi55Gf27GJrJeI7AtM3MWUj5TPh7czUsIB8QXHMnsw7frhKKStsRl1smPepaEh0gYmo67jqcTLwAqTV_rVzPk8fgXeKEw-j8UITSGHLlSMWSlYmyQVYR0qhxMsZ8hKZxCGxiR6e-bHeZROr/s1600/044+Adams.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi55Gf27GJrJeI7AtM3MWUj5TPh7czUsIB8QXHMnsw7frhKKStsRl1smPepaEh0gYmo67jqcTLwAqTV_rVzPk8fgXeKEw-j8UITSGHLlSMWSlYmyQVYR0qhxMsZ8hKZxCGxiR6e-bHeZROr/s400/044+Adams.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Closer look</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">What's more is that young Ansel loved exploring some of the same areas I do. As a boy he spent hours collecting bugs along Lobos Creek and exploring the rocky coastline from Baker Beach to Land’s End. It was here that Adams first developed his love of nature. While he may lament the fact that today people are confined to the boardwalk trail along Lobos Creek (it is our drinking water after all), I’m sure he would be happy to know that his childhood playgrounds are protected as National Park lands included in the Golden Gate National Recreation Area. As such I too love exploring these lands with minimal change since Adams’ day. Exploring Land’s End was an almost daily post-work ritual when I first moved here. I even made my family climb along the rocky trail when they first came to visit.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6D5AjYBoxQlcnpu_ozXneXyqEouR7RdC7PNU0tyi-rkINSEJ5E6V-XtsSZzVw-rgusAYkLErHTPg71VRE-zrmCk17ZAYA78COHDRMSKFXwzAXLtEQLOY7X95yQrJ86r12zNxCHOKWwpqC/s1600/PICT0112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6D5AjYBoxQlcnpu_ozXneXyqEouR7RdC7PNU0tyi-rkINSEJ5E6V-XtsSZzVw-rgusAYkLErHTPg71VRE-zrmCk17ZAYA78COHDRMSKFXwzAXLtEQLOY7X95yQrJ86r12zNxCHOKWwpqC/s400/PICT0112.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Land's End</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I don’t know if Ansel Adams ever made his family do the same but it’s possible since he lived in the house from the time he was an infant in 1903 until he was 60 years old in 1962. My apartment building was built in 1953 so I wonder if those early occupants knew they were looking out at Ansel Adams’ house.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span></span><br />
<span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">This summer I have also enjoyed exploring and photographing some of the same national parks Adams famously photographed. And so to pay homage to my neighbor I’d like to try and play a little game called Adams or Knackmuhs? All you need to do is look at the photos below and decide which was taken by Ansel Adams and which was taken by Eric Knackmuhs...Keep in mind, I didn't say it'd be difficult.</span></span></span></div><br />
1. Saguaro National Park<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXVpWncg0bDzAWl4P9tjYcoJ9EgakWzut3YePT-XFBwVa1eB9OV4hIREBU_yCtJnvxXWHkJuOjwvZnd8ihT6B9UvAk7ja6gOYP2JfmnsZ1mweFKSL8_Z53RfWqPW4sF3U6cmjlwyohtNHr/s1600/Adams+Saguaro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXVpWncg0bDzAWl4P9tjYcoJ9EgakWzut3YePT-XFBwVa1eB9OV4hIREBU_yCtJnvxXWHkJuOjwvZnd8ihT6B9UvAk7ja6gOYP2JfmnsZ1mweFKSL8_Z53RfWqPW4sF3U6cmjlwyohtNHr/s400/Adams+Saguaro.jpg" width="321" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;">Photo A</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp2N0eWQo-l1R3gMePtss9d51Aj3B7iuf7UjSpV5nusoOdGeLZiX0u7xUrjDsN0dpqIBV5_HuvcuNqn0AR5OMSPnsQmzJsmiG0fqwUBwyFCCkVPtEsNWTcRxZF21Qx-0dLrEXyJlLDe-FN/s1600/Saguaro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp2N0eWQo-l1R3gMePtss9d51Aj3B7iuf7UjSpV5nusoOdGeLZiX0u7xUrjDsN0dpqIBV5_HuvcuNqn0AR5OMSPnsQmzJsmiG0fqwUBwyFCCkVPtEsNWTcRxZF21Qx-0dLrEXyJlLDe-FN/s400/Saguaro.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;">Photo B</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2. Nevada Highways</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-hOmNAO1BkdK9tSluD3YoZCGIEJsrrrzj5XUi-sEiWZ2T_XuZTb-Wm3eDKLzPudpO-HbEhT2pPudrAPviksY3xFp4hxSTNwZevx9DOm8v_mXcQilUKqjGH8eKs8xBwtRCLlUUzhnA7DFC/s1600/HWY+50.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-hOmNAO1BkdK9tSluD3YoZCGIEJsrrrzj5XUi-sEiWZ2T_XuZTb-Wm3eDKLzPudpO-HbEhT2pPudrAPviksY3xFp4hxSTNwZevx9DOm8v_mXcQilUKqjGH8eKs8xBwtRCLlUUzhnA7DFC/s400/HWY+50.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;">Photo A</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjovoVRQw8wjw2SjfiS8ojJjdo0b-RGy0oZqq2iTH0EWyhauy_o5d8ecvWlset6K9ytMupPD2ARfWC8dibBwcbd4inkr8xTZm40McOei61GtkM86ZH2huHXHqLrPP42gAWUHFPmCni84HaQ/s1600/AnselAdams+HWY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjovoVRQw8wjw2SjfiS8ojJjdo0b-RGy0oZqq2iTH0EWyhauy_o5d8ecvWlset6K9ytMupPD2ARfWC8dibBwcbd4inkr8xTZm40McOei61GtkM86ZH2huHXHqLrPP42gAWUHFPmCni84HaQ/s400/AnselAdams+HWY.jpg" width="282" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;">Photo B</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
3. Mt. McKinley - Denali National Park<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjyOOmzOHjy8C3g8QB9iiqyh_O4iMOFYSIjiOYwhng43TlLq4PR7xs2Txhw9HSuGmuevX5bfFq2tY8vPubJEvoIfh8gszZTF78lrK5yMOsEVl8BF6dzynwZbJM1GWKiTEtbIJlsRBb09hE/s1600/Adams+McKinley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjyOOmzOHjy8C3g8QB9iiqyh_O4iMOFYSIjiOYwhng43TlLq4PR7xs2Txhw9HSuGmuevX5bfFq2tY8vPubJEvoIfh8gszZTF78lrK5yMOsEVl8BF6dzynwZbJM1GWKiTEtbIJlsRBb09hE/s400/Adams+McKinley.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;">Photo A</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB9iThVN-V5SYGt3scYy59psfZIEvbSyiGjaAnNk1YyQEIfYMm-ZlkP3qF0Uiih8IJoZTfv2IQpWJIaMew5jVh4qamL_jBSQ3yMJEWeUIKfFaeysxDM5mbBrDinxvY610Q36wUdS9OTGPC/s1600/McKinley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB9iThVN-V5SYGt3scYy59psfZIEvbSyiGjaAnNk1YyQEIfYMm-ZlkP3qF0Uiih8IJoZTfv2IQpWJIaMew5jVh4qamL_jBSQ3yMJEWeUIKfFaeysxDM5mbBrDinxvY610Q36wUdS9OTGPC/s400/McKinley.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;">Photo B</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
And of course,<br />
4. Yosemite National Park.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKVIWJj-ycrYQCYUbQ8mdRYiL3kGJ7qY8hJOtuxaW6xx9YZjh4GsDr6raO_N7D9EQgKGHMWI-wpPGhJChBSYkAM7ZtHk5s0JdPteH9RasEa9RetVkQXUthjhGb80r6sPAFiQz29s6glEpJ/s1600/Adams+Half+Dome_Thunder+Cloud.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKVIWJj-ycrYQCYUbQ8mdRYiL3kGJ7qY8hJOtuxaW6xx9YZjh4GsDr6raO_N7D9EQgKGHMWI-wpPGhJChBSYkAM7ZtHk5s0JdPteH9RasEa9RetVkQXUthjhGb80r6sPAFiQz29s6glEpJ/s400/Adams+Half+Dome_Thunder+Cloud.jpg" width="271" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;">Photo A</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEica0Ax-F3ZAHeu9dPK-GahfMynLg48zOugD6CKdnh6hffWcoiyW8KNgYVC6dY0t0-P6QVWWl3Lldnu1IzYeis6caBWH4W7oTTGWwxT0zD5oJZ__PNb7VYJvCisBZ_i3S4L4BiW0dJXJfb9/s1600/Half+Dome.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEica0Ax-F3ZAHeu9dPK-GahfMynLg48zOugD6CKdnh6hffWcoiyW8KNgYVC6dY0t0-P6QVWWl3Lldnu1IzYeis6caBWH4W7oTTGWwxT0zD5oJZ__PNb7VYJvCisBZ_i3S4L4BiW0dJXJfb9/s400/Half+Dome.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Photo B</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0TG8e48I4IGnBRmAA-vTwVcSCJ9XMG_2ntgJf0ZR5XQH7SnN2p6xCF7Lcz-CYY4HsmUCkK10fm5IFfNdLIlAJ6Qxs0VpHhtGMevlG1ayPWUyFn5QdI0-i-4ezcDud8IKiKNKzZxSqOKJ8/s1600/Adams+Tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="331" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0TG8e48I4IGnBRmAA-vTwVcSCJ9XMG_2ntgJf0ZR5XQH7SnN2p6xCF7Lcz-CYY4HsmUCkK10fm5IFfNdLIlAJ6Qxs0VpHhtGMevlG1ayPWUyFn5QdI0-i-4ezcDud8IKiKNKzZxSqOKJ8/s400/Adams+Tree.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;">Photo C</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIhTwZVTUVxIk_9pKGbI9p7IahRnpFytHrKErOx7_MAO6t-rx68M_dUjPZ65mlZrkZRnik1Emdnofc7_XUQTB0bShHkn_zXunUa-F8Crj5SKRkk3jN0brT9zXxBjlr9g5t_UE3IKAighG/s1600/Tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIhTwZVTUVxIk_9pKGbI9p7IahRnpFytHrKErOx7_MAO6t-rx68M_dUjPZ65mlZrkZRnik1Emdnofc7_XUQTB0bShHkn_zXunUa-F8Crj5SKRkk3jN0brT9zXxBjlr9g5t_UE3IKAighG/s400/Tree.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;">Photo D</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDx8xUe3QXM0ff-n4TnOivE8Irbiq9OANcm9CSJSJVh1PMqbD6TfBLgfBRrhUNokXD5eKWroQ1IFpnzTkccikZnSpOx_kPlR0z9PHUkd2bKid14zXL6Pw8tViqgpYnO5fdVlXIz7eiY-fc/s1600/YoseValley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDx8xUe3QXM0ff-n4TnOivE8Irbiq9OANcm9CSJSJVh1PMqbD6TfBLgfBRrhUNokXD5eKWroQ1IFpnzTkccikZnSpOx_kPlR0z9PHUkd2bKid14zXL6Pw8tViqgpYnO5fdVlXIz7eiY-fc/s400/YoseValley.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;">Photo E<br />
<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj15tE0McryXz1O2VlxFdP376s4Yjdha7ChhqDrEVQM3WJi_KF7f3jQD3g1dhZj6J0IzpQVRdGUfE6d5QKy9S-_ndq__K4CMfb3wJQ6I_n4-pua6gWZk79DhbmHOwqfbaFHd5pPD4NleVra/s1600/Adams+yosemite_valley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj15tE0McryXz1O2VlxFdP376s4Yjdha7ChhqDrEVQM3WJi_KF7f3jQD3g1dhZj6J0IzpQVRdGUfE6d5QKy9S-_ndq__K4CMfb3wJQ6I_n4-pua6gWZk79DhbmHOwqfbaFHd5pPD4NleVra/s400/Adams+yosemite_valley.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;">Photo F</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
Thanks for playing!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-64969763385503301582011-08-23T11:01:00.000-07:002011-08-23T11:02:23.075-07:00Almost Heaven<div class="MsoNormal">On clear days, which are rare in August, you can see Mt. Tamalpais from my bedroom winter. You may recall a previous <a href="http://thingsiseeoutthewindow.blogspot.com/2011/06/coldest-winter-i-ever-spent-was-summer.html">blog post</a> about the rare snowfall we had on Mt. Tam this winter. You may have also noticed the drop in posting frequency in recent weeks. The reason for that is simple. I haven’t been sitting at the window very much. During the last two months I’ve spent my time doing only one of two things. One, going on vacation. Two, surveying park visitors for my thesis research. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Since returning from Alaska I’ve spent the last two weeks begging, bribing and bullying people into doing surveys at Muir Woods, Angel Island and Mt. Tamalpais. On Saturday I drove up to Mt. Tam through a thick, pea soup fog. At one point I was driving 15 mph and still almost missed my turn. But as the road kept winding up I eventually broke through the fog and emerged above in sunshine and blue skies.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuQYtyPzAk5AucYLM6sseH3ns0r4oDGBlv6LRx8xEAQGpTDuTD-hyAuh-NB29IxdlG5um6YJhA-PQyiJBGPWwlnguaklQhsUEx-Hne7bxN58dEi5Xbj-0R581EpT0QDWH4iGW6lXqDabZh/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuQYtyPzAk5AucYLM6sseH3ns0r4oDGBlv6LRx8xEAQGpTDuTD-hyAuh-NB29IxdlG5um6YJhA-PQyiJBGPWwlnguaklQhsUEx-Hne7bxN58dEi5Xbj-0R581EpT0QDWH4iGW6lXqDabZh/s400/001.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Is this heaven?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">I met more than a few sunworshippers who frequently make the pilgrimage up Mt. Tam to transcend the gray gloom of a foggy weekend. After convincing enough of them to take my survey I was free to complete the last leg of the pilgrimage myself. After three days of sitting in the parking lot I finally bounded up the short 0.3 mile trail to the lookout.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1PuoX1g5VDF_gBLuhAI-86Qqg7riRiBHoMOCV9ITa0wqAQASN0duqgW5aSKLeg8eKWPAF9dp3G5Mj9DW44inhlJFaGKAjuHh4gCyB4w3vwKHHj2YBgyEpRQzcDUmvecKX45yIRTJs1N9g/s1600/014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1PuoX1g5VDF_gBLuhAI-86Qqg7riRiBHoMOCV9ITa0wqAQASN0duqgW5aSKLeg8eKWPAF9dp3G5Mj9DW44inhlJFaGKAjuHh4gCyB4w3vwKHHj2YBgyEpRQzcDUmvecKX45yIRTJs1N9g/s400/014.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking down on the parking lot</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">I found a good rock to sit down on and finally relaxed and enjoyed the view. I sat eating a sandwich, quietly contemplating the 360 degree views. Dragonflies buzzed around, turkey vultures soared overhead and other hikers sat quietly revering this holy place. To the east, San Quentin State Prison was visible. I wondered if any prisoners in the yard were looking up at me and what they were thinking. I thought for a moment of <a href="http://sanfrancisco.cbslocal.com/2011/05/12/murderer-released-from-san-quentin-after-24-years-behind-bars/">Ernest Morgan</a>, a convicted murderer we met there earlier this year who was paroled in May. How many times did he look up at Mt. Tam during his 24 years behind bars? Was he now experiencing the same feeling of freedom that I was?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmzxGUQrTRDUQgpJhXLci3F-KisW5D3yN-gX8C2bkUap1_2xOvXfnmNkx0a2C8pdJ3Lu_5NQGemywZeFC18bWKc9dTPtl3GV8IeB99fUJy3jjBeP0rDeNp0SptgnjhGLKsyY-3bwq_rqJq/s1600/018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmzxGUQrTRDUQgpJhXLci3F-KisW5D3yN-gX8C2bkUap1_2xOvXfnmNkx0a2C8pdJ3Lu_5NQGemywZeFC18bWKc9dTPtl3GV8IeB99fUJy3jjBeP0rDeNp0SptgnjhGLKsyY-3bwq_rqJq/s400/018.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">San Quentin and the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">To the north, a small wildfire burned as the fog creeped in above. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi567ErTynN6oh0jgKOergPALM8JNW6X-IWR6SIetu0COuc0VtgAl7g1xs3VGXuhKVmPFUxW9Y6OX8yLx8ZVCRXlKgYyG21syzXyXmDu43nTYE6VGZwvVO-SztZz3kVT_dNGkhr5Ki9z3U/s1600/011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi567ErTynN6oh0jgKOergPALM8JNW6X-IWR6SIetu0COuc0VtgAl7g1xs3VGXuhKVmPFUxW9Y6OX8yLx8ZVCRXlKgYyG21syzXyXmDu43nTYE6VGZwvVO-SztZz3kVT_dNGkhr5Ki9z3U/s400/011.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">To the west, on the middle of the ridge, was what I believe is an observatory and the subject of a future blog post no doubt. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9D7VPluCTM8LsClssp9xlLdBQOht4FatCjG1KySbjBCL8ibSX_6ADspH2eAtSDUdx3pXhmHBZqbGmkXmZf0AywWp756nA1NH2nkuEMOtMVOG7lzhg8O23sPssOWyaRaIKHcpHmmxfTRoL/s1600/015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9D7VPluCTM8LsClssp9xlLdBQOht4FatCjG1KySbjBCL8ibSX_6ADspH2eAtSDUdx3pXhmHBZqbGmkXmZf0AywWp756nA1NH2nkuEMOtMVOG7lzhg8O23sPssOWyaRaIKHcpHmmxfTRoL/s400/015.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And to the south, was the view of my house, somewhere down below the clouds.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeS5JKF0Yrd4yA4vsltVh547OSB5kN3OMWPgQQQ_LE4LCDTsWhEYhK_V408N37REbTQdlpRK2lQNiQwMEAtoyvTJe56ikoao_dlBBfn7AAfgyDqPAr6UnjPvNiwI3cbiAmfl-RIWw9nav9/s1600/016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeS5JKF0Yrd4yA4vsltVh547OSB5kN3OMWPgQQQ_LE4LCDTsWhEYhK_V408N37REbTQdlpRK2lQNiQwMEAtoyvTJe56ikoao_dlBBfn7AAfgyDqPAr6UnjPvNiwI3cbiAmfl-RIWw9nav9/s400/016.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And that was where I was off to next to start entering all that survey data into an excel spreadsheet. But my spirit was soaring as my car descended into clouds so I couldn’t help but snap a few more photos of this magical place. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3b7Vj1gkybYI4Ge6Ds5xxykvYdIECSMa0FRC44xVF019dnjMkMrXr6s0sIwiGs_APJVAgP8HO-G5TagX7nqzSqkoE5dSdcL8scvAv1bHipaxNSr6XSRNnRBjIzwVNnBwv-TtwzawK5yUV/s1600/019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3b7Vj1gkybYI4Ge6Ds5xxykvYdIECSMa0FRC44xVF019dnjMkMrXr6s0sIwiGs_APJVAgP8HO-G5TagX7nqzSqkoE5dSdcL8scvAv1bHipaxNSr6XSRNnRBjIzwVNnBwv-TtwzawK5yUV/s400/019.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A plant with sticky leaves and the lookout in the background</td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMroMHxzh5W56cv-iA0qvd6TgpRknugKHY2Vl4tUwolRWKMgmKwD_OrtBpv3zqv72XDVfWndOc6jUPcnvfahzo320VRW-vwhtBQL5-JPoGp2VTOMyB2EdSb-uKRTYVJxl886ALz_XvJz-t/s1600/021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMroMHxzh5W56cv-iA0qvd6TgpRknugKHY2Vl4tUwolRWKMgmKwD_OrtBpv3zqv72XDVfWndOc6jUPcnvfahzo320VRW-vwhtBQL5-JPoGp2VTOMyB2EdSb-uKRTYVJxl886ALz_XvJz-t/s400/021.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Mt. Tam is a place I see every day but I guess I really didn’t fully appreciate all it had to offer before this week. I encourage everyone to go explore some place near your house that you haven't been to in a long time and let me know what you find!</div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-44304696800516218652011-08-16T09:38:00.000-07:002011-08-17T17:50:40.538-07:00A Window Seat through the Last Frontier<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Well, I made it back from Alaska last week and now that I've got myself settled back in I can share a couple stories and photos. We covered hundreds of miles exploring some of the national parks of southern Alaska. We took 7 different planes, stayed in 6 hotels, rode in/paddled 3 boats, took 2 bus tours and spent hours taking in the scenery and roadside attractions from our rental car. I arrived at our B&B in Anchorage at about 2am so I didn't see much on the way in. I was excited when I woke up a few hours later, pulled back the blinds and gazed out at the majesty of the last frontier.</div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5PpRreVW4hnoYJg0YDbEpY50ufzmArN97h72aHIMOK0Z3eV46o6kPHpb6UdQ_g3QpVBI-QY2atOnE7E7RlQXroB8LQcxJVYIPuAHo3_ctjzutYstfr0ZClCBZua6ouhiBAiYfW1yagkA1/s1600/IMG_6268.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5PpRreVW4hnoYJg0YDbEpY50ufzmArN97h72aHIMOK0Z3eV46o6kPHpb6UdQ_g3QpVBI-QY2atOnE7E7RlQXroB8LQcxJVYIPuAHo3_ctjzutYstfr0ZClCBZua6ouhiBAiYfW1yagkA1/s400/IMG_6268.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from our room at the B&B</td></tr>
</tbody></table>After a breakfast of reindeer sausage we were back at the airport for a short flight to King Salmon and then on to Katmai National Park. Scott and I were looking forward to see the snow-capped mountains from the air and of course, argued over who would get the window seat. Scott won it, sort of.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGOi9PLMx21DJedWXHlBDfGlNe5NB03PybK4Zp0dEjDL3fSR8lHMUOa2ygNiNMjBVA5dLMxFQjxqE_MwyK8_wM610EAgER_wC_ktnpYSh7MlNM7oizGU6pfhEOoxZ2ZVrhRyF9S2pyVPuy/s1600/IMG_6284.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGOi9PLMx21DJedWXHlBDfGlNe5NB03PybK4Zp0dEjDL3fSR8lHMUOa2ygNiNMjBVA5dLMxFQjxqE_MwyK8_wM610EAgER_wC_ktnpYSh7MlNM7oizGU6pfhEOoxZ2ZVrhRyF9S2pyVPuy/s400/IMG_6284.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scott enjoys his "window" seat</td></tr>
</tbody></table> Apparently, not every row has an actual window. Luckily, there was an empty seat in front of us where we could see out the window.<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd2Yl0p-qPqwKfy-JvUhI1iUy8coZgREjPmRlvPD-gvtHjy78qnd3AawwD2JN36RMOaht50yKpSwMoLU_eCHxoJpuckXFryUtRXLicHWaYcRTQFOymeJVeGXwzWilv_fQLH3t2dQO5xxe5/s1600/IMG_6287.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd2Yl0p-qPqwKfy-JvUhI1iUy8coZgREjPmRlvPD-gvtHjy78qnd3AawwD2JN36RMOaht50yKpSwMoLU_eCHxoJpuckXFryUtRXLicHWaYcRTQFOymeJVeGXwzWilv_fQLH3t2dQO5xxe5/s400/IMG_6287.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br />
From then on out Alaska proved to be a place that rewards you again and again for simply gazing out the window.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from seaplane, Katmai National Park</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">On the road north out of Anchorage we were reminded that Alaska is the biggest state in 'Merica.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxHb2rYKtis9TbyQPgbPbm1GcZBWY_cHC7fC9KrkgnyfHbWISPJfyjVCcHy75iLmZMENb3U4WO2BOXvFPM5aG-pAKMmpPxhXzghT1L9ZxXuI0v3rvzvuaX_S8DBdmovUxN4tvsZrRH8e9b/s1600/IMG_6440.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxHb2rYKtis9TbyQPgbPbm1GcZBWY_cHC7fC9KrkgnyfHbWISPJfyjVCcHy75iLmZMENb3U4WO2BOXvFPM5aG-pAKMmpPxhXzghT1L9ZxXuI0v3rvzvuaX_S8DBdmovUxN4tvsZrRH8e9b/s400/IMG_6440.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br />
</div>And one that loves fireworks, hippie buses, the Batmobile and other pieces of Americana.<br />
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Once we arrived in Denali we took an all day bus trip through the park, spotting and (mostly) unsuccessfully photographing lots of wildlife. We stayed at the Skyline Lodge in Kantishna and enjoyed a beautiful view from our cabin.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">11 pm sunset from our room</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But the view out the back window of the lodge we stayed at in Kenai Fjords National Park was even better. I spent an evening sitting out on the rocker, reading and listening to the birds while my parents slept in a dramamine enduced coma inside (the boat ride there was a little rough). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizVT8CPCsw5vzr83H2TS5XsWE8amvskKFcJoldoUqNMrzjrM4A228UpSzoN4Pn6pEXzNejeSTWbmEo7UeTkrisQZFgSrVfKZWiENWhRvLYfh0MsiukdPEFmxnt0nZc8l-HPOX0vTRJ2Jrv/s1600/Kenai+Fjords+Lodge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizVT8CPCsw5vzr83H2TS5XsWE8amvskKFcJoldoUqNMrzjrM4A228UpSzoN4Pn6pEXzNejeSTWbmEo7UeTkrisQZFgSrVfKZWiENWhRvLYfh0MsiukdPEFmxnt0nZc8l-HPOX0vTRJ2Jrv/s400/Kenai+Fjords+Lodge.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
The best view from any window I've ever been able to look out though had to be from our Cessna 206 flying past Mt. McKinley.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello Beautiful</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkoYO8ESVS0JYBGrhF2IXTsGVRtEu05reccJRC0oYRuwwB-CzDNf_fTRD1qHRlCpNeciA4RSXSV5tnhCRr8y0jnXP_g3eI4BW85B4VXspBu4JGq88d4MiUFdtqnDQ0n8uakiUdn0aKs0pD/s1600/IMG_6587.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkoYO8ESVS0JYBGrhF2IXTsGVRtEu05reccJRC0oYRuwwB-CzDNf_fTRD1qHRlCpNeciA4RSXSV5tnhCRr8y0jnXP_g3eI4BW85B4VXspBu4JGq88d4MiUFdtqnDQ0n8uakiUdn0aKs0pD/s400/IMG_6587.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom contemplates the view</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEius-DSQ9P5b85yrj0MinVhEMZMMPypMA66avQ8DmlAZKB78RX8gjKOtEGV1hoSekne4p-eGaeLL-ez5lWuCKVIrwek3F8f7flpeyc1NkSvsHC28bQRmRIzbq0bMV3nE9bDZcUGOAr3Kyi9/s1600/IMG_6590.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEius-DSQ9P5b85yrj0MinVhEMZMMPypMA66avQ8DmlAZKB78RX8gjKOtEGV1hoSekne4p-eGaeLL-ez5lWuCKVIrwek3F8f7flpeyc1NkSvsHC28bQRmRIzbq0bMV3nE9bDZcUGOAr3Kyi9/s400/IMG_6590.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leaving Denali in our rear window</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Gazing at the scenery from the window of cars, buses, planes, boats and hotels provides only a glimpse of the immense beauty of this place. To really experience and appreciate it you have to get out there on the trails, the tundra, the rivers and lakes. You have to be out in the cold rain, swat away the mosquitoes and see the wildlife face to face. You may have seen the hundreds of photos of those experiences on my Facebook page. Luckily, we were able to do it all on this trip and I recommend everyone put Alaska on their bucket list. It's really a once in a lifetime kind of place!</div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-23425486918292255142011-07-29T11:34:00.000-07:002011-07-29T11:34:08.572-07:00North to the Future<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Tonight, I head North to the Future (that’s the state motto of Alaska). I’ve got my marching orders via email from <a href="http://autumnofginny.blogspot.com/">njbookwoman </a>who has planned out every detail with my dad. It looks like we’ve got at least two bus tours, a couple of air taxis, some boat tours and a few long stretches of driving through the land of the midnight sun. I suspect there will be many opportunities to view wildlife, scenery and perhaps some oddities out the windows of these various vehicles. And of course, I can’t wait to see what views we might have out the window of the lodges we are staying in. I’ve wanted to go to Alaska for a long time and several items on my </span>bucket list reflect that.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">-see a bald eagle</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">-ride in small prop/float plane</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">-see the northern lights </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">I’m told the summer sky is not dark enough to see the northern lights but I’ll have a good chance at crossing of the other two items. Does it count double if I see a bald eagle out the window of a float plane? I think if anyone could pull it off I could. I’ve spent months training here at my desk spotting wildlife or neighborhood curiosities out the window and quickly reacting with a photo, video or look through the binoculars. To the usual postings about passersby, birds and Mt. Tam I hope to add next week some sightings of orcas, grizzlies and Mt. McKinley.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Well, before I head out the door let me make sure you don’t have the impression that we’ll just be taking everything in from the comfort of a vehicle. Rest assured we’ll also be hiking the glaciers and kayaking the bays and experiencing the immensity of the final frontier. Alaska has less people than San Francisco and the population density there is only one person per square mile! For a point of comparison, the population density of the great state of New Jersey is 1,185 people per square mile. Let's hope the population density of bears is higher in Alaska though than in NJ where they are frequently spotted raiding garbage cans and dumpsters. Ok see you when I return to ‘civilization’ on August 8<sup>th</sup>!</div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-28079000783752190872011-07-24T22:49:00.000-07:002011-07-25T10:44:12.994-07:00Outside looking in<div class="MsoNormal">As you may have noticed more than a few of my blog posts have been and will continue to be about some of the birds I see out the window. As I have spent many hours casually observing the barn swallows flitting around, the hawks soaring high overhead and the ravens ‘squaking’ about I never imagined that they might also be looking in at me. Perhaps that is a story line missed in Hitchcock’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rear Window.</i> Didn’t anybody notice this man with the telephoto lens spying in on everyone? In any case, I believe that at least one little bird was curious as to what I was doing nested up inside this apartment because a few days ago he came to pay me a visit. I was bringing my bike, a folding table and chairs down to my car as I have been using them to survey park visitors for my thesis research. So, I left the front door wide open so I could move them more easily. As I rushed out the door for the last of the items I noticed something move out of the corner of my eye and I saw this little brown bird, almost camouflaged sitting on the couch.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrguqOG-QEj00XaMV4j82b2tMcHF6QkrTwC5TA66pkRbkJYMwxSVUhDXOIH-IctGgCBTACgxUT8QjFTkSNZwgIhRUepXTfoT8oENb96n41ehWtL0-LuD_exbHuGsk2UQXfc-0dewLzOTVb/s1600/IMG_6264.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrguqOG-QEj00XaMV4j82b2tMcHF6QkrTwC5TA66pkRbkJYMwxSVUhDXOIH-IctGgCBTACgxUT8QjFTkSNZwgIhRUepXTfoT8oENb96n41ehWtL0-LuD_exbHuGsk2UQXfc-0dewLzOTVb/s400/IMG_6264.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not the best photo but that's him (center) on the arm of the couch looking right at the camera.<br />
I wanted to get him out of there before he left anything behind.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">It was 7:30 am, I was already stressed and a little frazzled about the surveys and this was the last thing I wanted or expected to see. After some girlish screaming I quickly closed the doors to the other rooms of the house and tried to whistle and wave a hand towel to ‘push’ him toward the door. But he kept flying towards the window where he could see the electrical wires that are his usual perch. Like many a US President past and present, he had made it deep behind enemy lines but had failed to plan a proper exit strategy. I closed all the blinds, snapped a quick photo and then hoped he would figure out the front door was his only escape. He finally darted out and up the fire escape to the roof and beyond. I wonder if he tweeted or blogged about his experience, telling the other birds what he found out about that man inside who’s always looking out.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-53192484877807173802011-07-15T23:05:00.000-07:002011-07-24T09:28:44.093-07:00The tyranny of bloggingWhen I set out to start this blog I had what I thought to be a reasonable goal of posting once per week. For the most part I have stuck to it but the first time I missed my weekly deadline I got a call from my mom. "Where's your blog?" she asked. When I replied that I had been too busy that week she explained to me "the tyranny of blogging".<br />
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It starts out all fun and games. It's a fun, new, creative outlet. Your friends sign up to follow and at least say that they read and enjoy it. You feel quite good about yourself for doing something creative and productive. But other obligations and vices intrude and the honeymoon ends. Next thing you know the days are flying by and the pressure to come up with an interesting new photo or funny anecdote to post grows and grows until the blog becomes your boss, another "person" to answer to, another job that must be done. I suppose this is the point Rear Window has reached since I haven't posted anything in over two weeks. Vacations and school work have taken priority but also provided some material for future posts. So my creative energy is still high and Rear Window will carry on with the intended once a week post.<br />
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I saw a beautiful sight out the living room window on Wednesday night. I was sleeping in the living room because my sister was in town and sleeping on the world's softest backache producing bed in my room. I woke at about 4am and saw the almost full moon just starting to set through the fog towards the Pacific. I snapped a few quick photos before drifting back to sleep. I hope you enjoy them since the fog spoiled our full and almost full moon rises over the last two days.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjakRBUuqal1LzeUMdkcIL_zrtl8aQU7itWfYusLRQ1oXbMkCGajVk9nyvmGHn_AW5oKNARB80bdUyK126SwscY8WrjphAI1XocWGKDCt7FyX6UqvR164aW00i2uiXiXmeC8Umq0yMBPMrN/s1600/4am+Moon+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjakRBUuqal1LzeUMdkcIL_zrtl8aQU7itWfYusLRQ1oXbMkCGajVk9nyvmGHn_AW5oKNARB80bdUyK126SwscY8WrjphAI1XocWGKDCt7FyX6UqvR164aW00i2uiXiXmeC8Umq0yMBPMrN/s400/4am+Moon+001.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMN-4cBUEYqVCLMn7-kbX_xxupXAUrFcZ5kYHwmMSB2ZHSdruTfRpJXgFWiw-uUMSGYKrwYEs2uZrUEkLfyTI99WQJP5O8nyMvXR7N_SLYD0ikKzgdpShCfSDxEWiQ-ob6b7DgnR2YGStA/s1600/4am+Moon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMN-4cBUEYqVCLMn7-kbX_xxupXAUrFcZ5kYHwmMSB2ZHSdruTfRpJXgFWiw-uUMSGYKrwYEs2uZrUEkLfyTI99WQJP5O8nyMvXR7N_SLYD0ikKzgdpShCfSDxEWiQ-ob6b7DgnR2YGStA/s400/4am+Moon.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-81068826012454408632011-06-28T09:26:00.000-07:002011-06-28T09:26:03.462-07:00Lessons from the "Man Cave"<div class="MsoNormal">Mark Twain was known for being a traveler. He went to Europe, Hawaii and all across the continental United States gradually gaining credibility and fame as a writer. He even spent a few stretches in San Francisco writing for the San Francisco Daily Morning Call. But he wrote some of his most famous works, including <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Adventures of Huckleberry Finn</i> from his home in Hartford, CT, which I was lucky enough to visit awhile back.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuOvI32LRZQapsOSDbD_qNjlYs-fqZfTzVJNW1BrtXd50QYfSO31Ge8s7SmCWGUn1y_G7EMqOedY1oibR9vhDkj57SI8ShUX65XEocwE6pRB70rukq0r7DlHCuUu2JS5qJcpae5Du3OckD/s1600/twain-house-billiard-room.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuOvI32LRZQapsOSDbD_qNjlYs-fqZfTzVJNW1BrtXd50QYfSO31Ge8s7SmCWGUn1y_G7EMqOedY1oibR9vhDkj57SI8ShUX65XEocwE6pRB70rukq0r7DlHCuUu2JS5qJcpae5Du3OckD/s400/twain-house-billiard-room.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Twain's Billiard Room where he did most his writing</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">Twain retreated from the noise of a busy household to this 19<sup>th</sup> century man cave on the 3<sup>rd</sup> floor where he could smoke cigars, shoot pool and play cards while informally entertaining friends. But more importantly, he came here to write in peace and quiet. The pool table would become a work area where he’d spread out his manuscripts to organize his thoughts. To the left of the pool table but not quite visible in this photo is a shelf of cubby holes where he would file away ideas and works-in-progress. Beneath the light of the green lamp in the right corner, he sat at his desk and penned one of the greatest and most controversial novels in American literature.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But what I found most striking about this room was that Twain’s writing desk was in the right hand corner facing the window…just like mine. Did he ever neglect Huck Finn to focus on a bird perched outside the window?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiHRNqHf_AvDG26sQY2HMbbA-IbiSA2PXpPmD8tN91CwVV71GZ82QDA0iIqUI9uunFLC3_IKoxa6wrIeD-Io4ySj9iyRPTCwJZuXay5DRWrwzeNZuPJIvji0Wdqiqm6v11toSeO-fRyA0B/s1600/005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiHRNqHf_AvDG26sQY2HMbbA-IbiSA2PXpPmD8tN91CwVV71GZ82QDA0iIqUI9uunFLC3_IKoxa6wrIeD-Io4ySj9iyRPTCwJZuXay5DRWrwzeNZuPJIvji0Wdqiqm6v11toSeO-fRyA0B/s400/005.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">My writing desk is also in a room on the 3<sup>rd</sup> floor of a busy house even if other tenants occupy the majority of the building.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes I use my bed to spread out my notebooks that can’t fit on my small computer desk. And once in awhile I hear the neighbors' kids down stairs running around laughing or crying and I wonder if Twain heard his own kids running about the house as he wrote some of his most famous works upstairs. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">While I find these to be amusing similarities we also differ in several ways, aside from the obvious difference in skill and fame. For starters, I write under my own name, while Samuel Clemens of course was Mark Twain only on paper. His stories are based on his own life experiences while mine are based on direct observations of things I see out the window. Twain’s primary tools of the trade were a paper and pen, mine are a computer and a camera. He had cubby holes to store works-in-progress and ideas while mine are stored in Dropbox file folders on the Internet.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Twain had to use his imagination and have a good memory to recall events from his past while crafting his stories. My stories rely on being ever vigilant to catch any noteworthy activity going on outside. It can be equally challenging because a good window watcher needs more than just a computer and some time to watch. Here are a few tips for the would-be window watcher.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">First, remove the screen from the window. It only gets it the way. Second, keep your viewing tools within arm’s reach. If you look closely at the photo above you’ll notice my glasses, camera and binoculars on my desk. It takes some experience to know which tool to grab at a moment’s notice. Third, you need to hone your cat-like reflexes, instantly reacting to anything that catches your attention, grabbing the right tool and training it on the subject before the bird, person or vehicle passes by and your story is lost.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Here are some examples of what can happen when you don’t follow these guidelines.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCK0qQ1H8lTUztty2WOkZCLg5msBhHBVS75YVQ30RRvEGchw7n91DqKX6Y5z1iF627i90Q2FC9xP_wUYJzYWiF9OHguGERI-Dy3eDYdHk9LSzN6bhGF1SL3ALrvQipGwZIV5ils8HYH_UA/s1600/108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCK0qQ1H8lTUztty2WOkZCLg5msBhHBVS75YVQ30RRvEGchw7n91DqKX6Y5z1iF627i90Q2FC9xP_wUYJzYWiF9OHguGERI-Dy3eDYdHk9LSzN6bhGF1SL3ALrvQipGwZIV5ils8HYH_UA/s400/108.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Slow Reaction Time</div><div class="MsoNormal">A few weeks ago I noticed a fire truck pass by on Lincoln Blvd right where the street light is on the left side of the photo. Then another fire truck rolled by, and another and another. I realized too late that something big was going on. I tore up my room looking for my camera until I finally found it, dove back towards the window and clicked off this photo just as the last truck passed out of view. I later confirmed that it was the funeral procession for fallen San Francisco firefighters Lt. Vincent Perez and Anthony Valerio. A huge contingent of firefighters from all across the country came to honor the brave men who died in the line of duty.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrChu4sVhBvv1L3Czih9Hq-KlsRVnwnRei1z2bct9DCd8vkpFyvMctpIDIr0-mbL_VPnVT7hOaXx2zwdD5kgjyQ8YS3-o4N6kBVMnGZsy9EoDf3_zHAb56hphVj4XCwIcTG-hvRHJdoSnk/s1600/116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrChu4sVhBvv1L3Czih9Hq-KlsRVnwnRei1z2bct9DCd8vkpFyvMctpIDIr0-mbL_VPnVT7hOaXx2zwdD5kgjyQ8YS3-o4N6kBVMnGZsy9EoDf3_zHAb56hphVj4XCwIcTG-hvRHJdoSnk/s400/116.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Wrong Tool</div><div class="MsoNormal">This, I believe, appears to be a military cargo plane but I made the mistake of going for the camera instead of the binoculars. The camera takes too long to zoom in all the way and focus before taking the photo. A plane is simply moving too fast for the slowest tool in my belt. The appropriate response should have been the binoculars where maybe I could have read some identifying numbers on the plane that could later be googled for more info. Now we might never know the who, what, when, where and why of that military cargo plane.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Unprepared</div><div class="MsoNormal">And finally, you may have noticed no accompanying photo or video to the entry, <a href="http://thingsiseeoutthewindow.blogspot.com/2011/06/its-not-size-of-dog-in-fight-its-size.html">“It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.”</a> That is what happens when your tools are not within arm’s reach. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So Rear Window’s first ever Mark Twain “week” comes to a close with a few lessons learned from ol’ Sam Clemens. Whether it’s a pen and paper or high tech gadgets, you need to apply the appropriate tools of the trade to get the job done. If you want to be a writer, you need to find a quiet place and some time to write. And most of all, you need look no further than your own everyday life and experiences for inspiration.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-15780334324291253222011-06-21T14:03:00.000-07:002011-06-21T14:03:56.904-07:00The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Continuing our first ever Mark Twain week, I bring to you Twain’s most famous (alleged) quote about our fair city by the bay. “The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.” Well, today is the Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year, the first day of summer, and this time (sorry Mark) it should feel like it with sunny skies and temps in the 80s. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">This could hardly be considered winter at all! That’s good news for many San Franciscans because we just came out of the coldest winter we’ve ever spent – a winter in San Francisco. We saw record breaking rainfall in The City and corresponding snow in the Sierras. In Yosemite, Tioga Road only opened this past weekend and the Half Dome cables are finally going up tomorrow. Rumor has it Squaw Valley is going to be open for </span>the 4<sup>th</sup> of July weekend. It was much talked about but the first snow since 1976 did not fall on San Francisco this year. However, one day in February shortly after moving to Baker Beach I couldn’t believe my eyes when I looked out the window and did in fact see snow capped mountains. </div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLxhTv-LbSDgDljTZOcCkOuU9ypIAWUFnVCUqdaHT4YScoRIjLCqb8uome2cCArHkuu1xMe2BnUheYwiWAWNRExINXd-GZ-_pmQnvryHnu6GWz4hWujHgShP7LUNMx3u1t3NtCSMuk9xkh/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLxhTv-LbSDgDljTZOcCkOuU9ypIAWUFnVCUqdaHT4YScoRIjLCqb8uome2cCArHkuu1xMe2BnUheYwiWAWNRExINXd-GZ-_pmQnvryHnu6GWz4hWujHgShP7LUNMx3u1t3NtCSMuk9xkh/s400/003.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">About 10 inches fell on Mt. Tam which stands about 2,500 feet above the bay. If I had it to do again I’d have called in sick and gone exploring. So today my friends, I pledge to you that this summer I will not sit idly by and let such unique opportunities slip past me as I did this winter. It’s the return of the Summer of Eric! I'll catch you later because I'm off to bike in the Marin Headlands.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div></div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189729259509725904.post-92641845450606732011-06-19T09:55:00.000-07:002011-06-19T09:56:59.630-07:00"It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog."A few days ago I referenced Mark Twain's famous character Huck Finn while discussing my yearning for running free through the hills visible from my bedroom window. Coincidentally, the quote referenced above is also attributed to Twain and I've got another Twain quote in the pipeline for the summer solstice. You may be able to guess that one. So I proclaim this Rear Window's first ever theme week. Welcome to Mark Twain week! So here is a little episode I witnessed today that illustrates Twain's quote, "It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog."<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">This morning while I was stretching in the living room I saw a raven standing in the middle of the road below. It seemed a little unusual because I don’t usually see them there and he wasn’t really moving about. Just then, a barn swallow swooped down and back up and circled over him. Then this little barn swallow went into a straight dive bomb crashing onto the back of the raven like a kamikaze pilot. He fell to the road with a THUMP! I could hear it from two floors up but he apparently recovered and flew off. The raven, seeing this more or less as a minor annoyance also got up and flew away. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Now I’m not an ornithologist or a biologist or even a smart person so it took me a second to realize why this swallow was attacking such a larger bird. There is a swallow nest in the carport across the street that this little guy was protecting. I don’t know if it was a male or female but today being Father’s Day I’d like to think it was the father protecting his home and family. So don’t forget to wish your dad a happy Father’s Day because he too probably sacrificed himself to protect you from the figurative raven in your life.<br />
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</div>Eric Knackmuhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12887252573060101248noreply@blogger.com0