This thought occurred to me as I read the March 2009 issue of National Geographic, where Mel White contributes an article titled “Path of the Jaguar.” The article discusses efforts to preserve the corridor Jaguars follow as they range from Mexico to Argentina, which is referred to locally as Paseo del Jaguar.

The article starts with a tale of desperation. Mel White writes:

At dusk one evening, deep in a Costa Rican forest, a young male jaguar rises from his sleep, stretches, and silently but determinedly leaves forever the place where he was born.

There’s shelter here, and plenty of brocket deer, peccaries, and agoutis for food. He has sensed, too, the presence of females with which he might mate. But there’s also a mature male jaguar that claims the forest—and the females. The older cat will tolerate no rivals. The breeze-blown scent of the young male’s mother, so comforting to him when he was a cub, no longer binds him to his home. So he goes.

But the wanderer has chosen the wrong direction. In just a few miles he reaches the edge of the forest; beyond lies a coffee plantation.

The story continues with the jaguar losing its way and growing hungry, finally leaving the protection of the forest, crossing the open plain of a ranch, and killing a calf for food. Later the jaguar is hunted and killed, a victim of circumstance. The article continues by outlying efforts to protect the corridor and provide a buffer between the jaguar’s habitat and human development.

As I read the rest of the article, the phrase “the wanderer has chosen the wrong direction” stuck in mind. The jaguar knew to leave based on the smell of the dominant male, so why not direct him with the same instinctual response to smell, using a pheromone fence to guide his way?

Some questions…

• Could flowering plants be genetically modified to emit the pheromone?
• How could those plants be limited to fencelines?
• Could volunteers spray the pheromones along a fenceline on a regular basis?
• Could human developments which threaten the jaguars be required to provide their own pheromone fence?

What do you think?

That bald guy at the bottom of Snowqualmie Falls is me. Wow.

The book, The Wild Trees by Richard Preston, tells the story of the botanists who have been studying the redwood forest canopy. Amazingly, the canopy was first explored in the late 1990s. After reading this book I definitely have a new adventure goal: to climb to the top of a redwood.

Some interesting facts:

• The world’s tallest tree, and tallest living thing, is a redwood called Hyperion and stands 379.1 feet tall and 26 feet wide at breast height;
• There are 15 known trees greater than 260 feet in height;
• There are fire caves, created by lightning strikes, in the redwood canopy;
• Tons of soil is held aloft in the canopy, home for salamanders and fern gardens;
• The botanists keep the location of the trees secret, to prohibit recreational climbing — much like grottoes protecting the location of caves;
• There is more biomass in the redwood forests of the Pacific northwest then the jungles of the Amazon;
• The age of some redwoods exceeds 2,000 years.

More Information:

• Save-the-Redwoods League
• Humboldt Redwoods State Park
• Redwood National Park
• Jeb Smith State Park
• Sequoia on Wikipedia

Hopefully there will soon be an entry for our adventure to the redwoods!

I’m still not sure what “4-in-1 softy” means.

Number “57″ is spray-painted on the backs of their rented ski bibs.

George Luc in front of one of many shacks by the slope.

The “nutcrusher” day pass.

George on the nutcrusher ski lift.

At the top, ready for my first run.

George’s first time skiing.

The view from the top of the slope.

Snacks, chai and the ever-present plastic chairs at the foot of the slope.

Before heading to the desert state of Rajasthan for Jai’s wedding, George Luc and I got a ride north to Solang Valley for some skiing.

We arrived in Delhi 2am on Thursday, drove through the night and all the next day, arriving at our hotel in Manali late Friday night. (See this post for stops along the way.) After a breakfast of chapatis, curd and chai, we drove through downtown Manali and up to Solang Valley.

On the way to the ski “resort,” we passed 100 shacks. Each shack was conspicuously numbered, and was renting ski bibs and fur coats. The newlyweds posing below with George, so cute in their ski bibs, had giant 67s hastily spray-painted on their backs - indicating the shack where they rented the gear.

There was a Mexican standoff between a Yak and a snowplow, so we walked the last half mile. The walk afforded a closeup look at the homes of the “hospitality workers”. It was very smoky,

Once we arrived on site, our “fixer” got us set up with some very sketchy equipment - rusty bindings, repaired with duct tape, mis-matched skies. Amazingly the boots were a good fit. Time to hit the slopes!

After a couple of hours painfully riding to the top on the nutcrusher, only to slide our way down in horrible ski conditions (all slush), we sat down for some chai. The bottom of the hill was bedlam - people everywhere, a line of food stalls and chai stands, people para-gliding, ski mobiling, tubing and skiing. Everyone was having a blast. Despite the conditions I wouldn’t trade that experience for the world. I’ve skied the Himalayas!

The Moleskine sandal.

The sandal was made by tying the bookmark to the binding strap. The bookmark had to be wrapped around once to keep the journal from opening with each step.

I’m happy to report that not only did the sandal work well, but it survived the ordeal mostly unscathed. The only evidence of the journal’s adventure is the pitting and pockmarks on the back cover.

If you’re in the Austin, Texas area, I highly recommend driving to Enchanted Rock, which Matthew Hammer describes here:

“Enchanted Rock looms over the Texas Hill Country like a massive bald mountain, an enormous dome of pink granite that rises 325 feet above the small stream flowing at its base. Covering more than a square mile, the formation is second in size only to Georgia’s Stone Mountain.”

Here are some other pictures of our adventure:

Approaching Enchanted Rock.

Assaulting the granite monolith.

View from the top.

Here are some links:

• Moleskine: the greatest journals ever.
• Texas Parks & Wildlife Page
• Matthew Hammer’s Article on GreatOutdoors.com
• When you’re in the Texas Hill Country, stop at The Salt Lick for some BBQ

A great odometer moment.

Odometer readings capture the essence of the American road trip. I was on my way home from work in downtown STL, with 11 miles to go, when I noticed 111,101. With a few extra streets along the way I was able to nail it, right as I pulled in the driveway.