A sucsessful Hike.

Chris, my cousin, called me yesterday at about 1230 and invited me on a hike with him , his wife, her son and my nephew.

May 26, 2005 1030am; my dad, nephew and I are headed out to Port Angeles to help my sis move from her apartment to a house she had just bought. Coming around the corner at the Arnold Rd/S.R. 20, my dad went over the line and collided with a dump truck, fully loaded with gravel. He died an hour and a half later on the OR table. My starboard ankle was broken in three places and my port hip was fractured; I was in a hospital bed for four months. So it has been three years since the last time I have been on a decent hike.

So yesterday, we did a level 3 hike* on the west side of Blanchard mountain near my home. Going in, I was fine; my ankle was holding up and, though I was a tad slow, I made it to the bat cave - our destination.

When we got there, the cave entrance was surrounded with snow and the entrance itself was dripping with melt. The cave was nothing more than the large boulders of a collapsed cliff face and the entrance was too small for me in my current shape to crawl through; I could fit, but the required bending and squeezing was a little more than I am currently prepared for. I am pleasantly surprised that I was able to climb out of the entrance itself on my own - the rest of the group went on without me and came out the other side.

Half an hour later, we were on our way home. The trail had some very steep parts and one was just a few minutes back along the trail. It was here that I slipped and sprained the injured ankle. The skinned knee was not a problem - I'm a pretty tough cookie - but the ankle ruined the rest of the hike for me. The limping made short work of my hip and slowed my already leisurely progress to a snails pace and the sun was down before we hit the halfway mark. It was dark enough to need head lamps just fifteen minutes later. It got very cold very fast once that happened.

Finally, we reached the trailhead and drove down the mountain. Once we got back to town, we went to a Mexican Restaurant near their house and I had a burrito with ground beef that was way too salty.

This is a triumph. I'm making a note here: huge success. It's hard to overstate my satisfaction. The last time I was on this trail, I didn't make it past the first 20%; now, I actually completed the hike. I will return within two weeks to the cave and do so every week until I can crawl through the cave myself. Then, this fall, after I return from Alaska, I will summit Mount Baker in my father's memory and spread a fourth of his ashes there. We were going to summit that fall.

_{*Trails are rated on a 1-5 scale of difficulty.}

1. Nearly flat with groomed surface of dirt, gravel (< 3/8"), wood chips or similar materials. Must be wheel-chair accessable and have benches for resting.


2. Nearly flat with ungroomed surface and only local materials used to maintain passability I.E. bridges and culverts to divert streams and prevent erosion.


3. Non flat with ungroomed surface, however, must be maintained for passability. Shallow streams (< 3" normal depth) permitted across trail, however, all other debris should be cleared.


4. Technical with ungroomed surface, maintained for passability. Bridges and obstacle removal for environmental impact and hiker safety only.


5. Technical with ungroomed surface. Passability not maintained. Bridges and obstacle removal for minimalization of environmental impact only.

Heh. Twelve years and I still remember. I used to work with the DNR on the trails maintenance crew.

*Nom nom nom* 8^D I LOVE being a Taitano!!

So, I live in Skagit County, WA. Not exactly a hotbed of culture or cuisine. But, two weeks ago, a new place opened up called "Asia 1". The day it opened, my sister found it; she said it "looked like a good place to eat." Later that week, last Friday, she took me to eat there saying it was the best Asian food in the area. Outside, it was very unimpressive; but then we went inside and ate. She wasn't kidding. It reminded me of when we discovered Porto, a European restaurant hidden in a small house that had been rezoned.

The thing is, my family of ancient, culture soaked, traveling foodies, can sniff out the best food in an area just by looking at a map and 'reading the terrain.' I once freaked the b'jeezus out of some cow irkers I worked with in the forest service. Having bragged about my travels and food experience, they elect me to choose where to have lunch. We walk right past the 'tourist traps' to the deliberately unattractive building at the end of the street; it looked like an abandoned house overlooking the marina. They started to turn back when I opened the door. It was the best clam chowder I've had since that lovely little B&B in Maine.

Some background

When I was four years old, my mom and dad moved my little sis (the one mentioned above) and I to the island of Guam, because we're Chamorro, the indigenous people of the Marianas. Guam is the Gateway to the US; the very next stop is Hawaii. Anyone living south of Japan has to go through Guam to get to the Americas. Also, the island is home to the largest permanent US military presence outside the US. The result is a melting pot of world culture, with all of Asia represented.

Then there's my mom's family, Italian and Swede. She, and every last one of her siblings has worked in the fine foods industry. From four and five star restaurants to my uncle's job making oak barrels for the wine industry in Calastoga California. Then, most of my cousins on that side of the family, myself included, followed this path. I even had formal training to work in the kind of establishments where you could get fired for making less than $300/night in tips.

So then, I know food. I know Asian food. I may not be very good at making it - yet - but I know it. And this place was off-the-charts- good. I normally cringe at the sight of curry on the menu because I have had curry made by a chef who'd worked for Indian nobility and was descendants of the same due to the caste system they had there at one time. Since then, anything less than REAL, hand made, passion filled and obsessively perfect curry actually hurts my tongue; I have tried on several occasions and failed. And here it was; the best yellow curry I'd had in over ten years. Hidden behind a Chevron and a Taco Hell/Pizza the Hutt. Tonight, I had the Roast Duck; it was also amazingly good.

The Taitanos come though once again. I love this family.

Jehovah's Witnesses and Blood

Someone calling themselves JJones posted a comment on my entry regarding my friend's death. JJones opened with "Here is the reason your friend died:" and proceeded to rag on the Watchtower, Bible and Tract society without giving a real explanation. I am going to respond here for the first and last time because this is my blog, my religion and my friend and I choose to address this rather digressive comment for no particular reason. =)

My response: Interesting. You're absolutely right, he died because he believed that eating blood is in violation of God's view on blood; which he learned from studying the Watchtower publications. However, I believe that you got a little carried away with yourself there, what with the accusations of murder and all. :) If a parent believes that an injection of some medication will harm their child in some way that outweighs the benefits, then the parents are not exactly neglectful if they refuse treatment. What is at stake here is everlasting life, rather than a temporary one filled with pain and misery. JW's believe that Jesus' promise of resurrection is real, and that it is worth dying for.

Until a child demonstrates the ability to think and decide for themselves what they believe, the parent has the responsibility to use their best judgment in regard to the welfare of the child. No parent has ever been removed, or child chastised because the courts decided to force a transfusion. We respect that the doctors and authorities who do so honestly believe that this is the best treatment. After all, if a parent honestly felt that a hit of acid before school in the morning is good for the child, we would expect the authorities to intervene. If, however, the parents decide to accept blood for their child, yes, they would be removed from the congregation. This is not because they necessarily did something 'wrong', but because, when they were baptized, they stated that they accepted those beliefs which they're now violating. In fact, collapsing under the possibility of losing your child is considered rather mild and the time to 'reinstatement' is usually brief. It is very similar for the ones who do so on their own behalf.

Now then, on to the subject at hand

Ok, here it goes...

The only, I repeat ONLY treatment that we deny as a group is whole blood transfusions or of the four main components. Again, that is the ONLY thing we refuse. The view and interpretation of the scriptures has, indeed changed. I personally do not think it was a coincidence that the rejection of transfusions was passed after at least one alternative was available. We can accept "blood fractions" as one's conscience allows. All other transplants, medications and other treatments are up to the patient.

The reason we do not accept blood transfusions is because we believe that the bible says that god holds blood as sacred. The commandment is clear. As science advances and more stuff that is not unique to the blood stream is isolated and put forth as alternative, the more our stance will be refined. Who knows, perhaps jjones is right about our interpretation of the bible and we will be directed to accept transfusions. This, however, does not change the fact that we stand by what we believe - and we believe that transfusions are out. And, in the mean time, we follow the attitude of the disciples who stayed with Jesus after he said that only those who 'ate his flesh and drank his blood are in union with him': (John 6:66-69) 66 "Owing to this many of his disciples went off to the things behind and would no longer walk with him. 67 Therefore Jesus said to the twelve: 'YOU do not want to go also, do YOU?' 68 Simon Peter answered him: 'Lord, whom shall we go away to? You have sayings of everlasting life; 69 and we have believed and come to know that you are the Holy One of God.'" To those of us that stick with the organization, it is because we believe that they are the closest of all to the truth about God and his requirements for us.

Dennis was a close friend of mine. He had more maturity in one finger than most adults today have in their whole body and, as the courts upheld, had proven that he was capable of making the decision for himself. He made a choice. He took a stand. Yes, his faith cost him his life, as it did for all of our brothers who died in Nazi Germany because they refused to heil Hitler or in the USSR for not renouncing their belief in God. Refusing to deny or compromise one's beliefs in the face of death is not suicide.

A related side note: I have read twenty years of the New England Journal of Medicine's articles on what he had. In the list of treatments recomended, Blood transfusion was not mentioned. The only reason they recommended it was to try to buy more time for the blood thickening drugs to bring the levels up so he could accept the continuation of chemotherapy. Also, they got to it too late. He'd already had leukemia for a long time and nothing could save him; the only thing a transfusion could do was extend his misery a couple years at most. Let the blood save the life of some one who both needs and wants it.

A Friend Died Today

Dennis Lindberg, at the age of 14, stood his ground and died for his beliefs tonight. He believed that the Bible was literal when it said to "keep abstaining from blood". In spite of tremendous pressure from doctors and well meaning friends and family, he made the decision based on his knowledge and understanding of what the Bible taught and what his medical options were.

I believe he is an example to all of us. Too many people today are willing to compromise on what they believe in order to save their own skin. From employees stealing from their companies, to soldiers who keep quiet because they're ordered to, to people "padding" their resume. What ever happened to "give me liberty, or give me death?" The marines shout "Semper fi!" to each other all the time. This is a sentiment that Dennis held dear. He preferred to die like a man, fighting for what he believed, rather than compromise and live like a coward. Whether he is right or wrong in his belief in the resurrection that Jesus promised, he conquered death itself.

May we all be so fortunate as to go like that; a symbol of all that we believe.