Some Japanese climbers across the way. What kind of crazy sport is this?

The crew, Lara, Shane, Jennfere and I, Have become somewhat the experts on night travel here in Japan. First it was our trip to Shikoku, covered almost entirely in the hours of the night, then last Friday saw us driving down south again to one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen, namely the Yosemite of Japan, Ogawa-Yama. The name literally means "little river mountain" but the main feature you'll notice is the gigantic granite spires poking out of the mountains. This, combined with the industriousness of the Japanese rock climbing community has led to the establishment of over 600 routes, most of them out of my league, but others tantalizingly do-able. The shock of the weekend came as Jennifer and I began setting up the tent, only to discover that her sleeping bag had been left behind. OOPS! This meant two things. 1. I was an idiot for forgetting it when I walked out the door, and 2. one of us was sleeping in the car. Jennifer got that honor and had a lovely night's sleep on 4 feet of back seat.

Overall though, it was a successful weekend, and I in particular, didn't want to leave. Oh well, we'll be back, we'll be back.

Alf is totally correct. Asian taste in pop music is probably the worst in the world. While shopping for protein powder yesterday at various sporting goods stores, I was assailed by reject music from the US, shitty store theme music, "Sponsored by Super Sports Xebio!" and a host of unspeakable rot from crappy Japanese Karaoke stars and rejects alike. There's something about the Japanese aesthetic that loves the sappy and inane, particularly in music and on TV. I can't quite explain it, but things like the lyric, "Good love from me to you," pop up constantly amid the most un-original melodies and skill-less singing I've ever heard recorded. My only good fortune is that I don't get lyrics stuck in my head very often because they're in Japanese.

I can't wait to get back to the US to find the same thing, in a language that I fully understand.

As I mentioned in the moustache post, we took a trip to Shikoku last week. It was a driving marathon rather than the money marathon which was our trip last year. Shikoku is a pretty rugged place and you can almost imagine that you're not in Japan when there. There's a different attitude on the other islands, one that's not quite so concerned with the social graces of Honshu. Anyway, I had a great trip, though my back is only just now forgiving me for my time spent in the car. I've posted the main events of the trip in a more or less chronological order, and I'm planning on uploading a lot more of them to an internet photo album. When you get a digital camera, the only thing that stops you from taking pictures is battery life, and we've got enough battery to last us about 200 pictures worth. Yee-haw!

Believe it or not, this is the most famous part of Shikoku. Not the bridge particularly, but the narrow straights below it. The town is Naruto and the area is a tourist attraction because of the tide, which is the 3rd most beautiful in Japan, according to our guidebook. This being the exit from the Inland Sea to the Pacific, when the tide changes water currents water flows through at up to 20kph and can create whirlpools. To me, it looked like a river, a big river.

Typhoons really tore the countryside up last year as a record 10 of them pasted the island. With typhoons you get strong winds and what's more torrents of rain soaking the moderately stable hillsides which eventually sluff off in gargantuan landslides like this one which demolished the only road from where we were, to where we were going. This necessitated a back-track of about 4 hours. Radical.

Did I mention it was hard to get around in Shikoku, here's a "highway" through the mountains. This tunnel was just a crude blast hole through the rock, yet it was listed as a major road, maybe that's because it was the only road to where we were going, and it just happened to be out.

Shikoku is a rugged country with natural beauty seemingly around every corner. Admittedly, we only went to two of the four prefectures, but that's mostly because travel was excruciatingly slow. This waterfall was carved out of the whitest rock I've seen in Japan and set in a lush green valley. A perfect picnic spot if ever there was one.

We had ourselves a merry little backpacking expedition from hell as well. It started with an easy hour and a half hike up to the weather station where we camped for the night. The next day then was this one which we spent hiking for about 9 hours and 20K. It wouldn't have been quite as bad had it not been the inagural voyage for Jennifer and my new boots. The first 10K were pretty much ok, painful but whatever, and then we began approaching deathmarch territory. The last 5K were the most painful of my life, including running races. Ouch.

I've rarely seen more spectacular sunsets than here in Japan. It may be the humididty, or the smog or whatever, maybe I just appreciate them more, but in the mountains or on the beach you are assured of some ultra-beauty once in a while. This shot was taken from our campsite on the top of the final leg of our epic day. Happily for my feet the last segment took only about 2.5 hours to hike down. At the trailhead we hitch-hiked our way back to the car, a convenient, and in Japan, safe way to travel.

One of the touristy things to do in Shikoku is to see the vine bridges over one of the river valleys. In the feudal era the local samurai clans would construct these vine bridges over river gorges and when persued, would escape across them and with a couple of swift hacks, eliminate the possibility of pursuit. I felt a little cheated as the modern version is covertly supported by cables, still pretty freaky to cross though.

Testing out the ol' rocket arm as the tide comes in. The beach was strewn with small abalone shells left by a group of nearby picnicers. What is considered endangered in the west is merely another delicacy here. It's a shame though, abalone at best tastes like nothing and has the texture of munching on someone's nose cartilage.

On kind of our last stop before the rain drove us home we stopped at some giant rocks sticking out of the sea coast in Kochi Prefecture. They were totally sweet, as in completely awesome. About 50 meters high from sea level they were made of this awesome pocketed sandstone that looked just like an alien beehive or something, the string that you see in the background was somehow strung between the two pinnacles and is a symbol of residence by some Shinto spirit. After this we parked ourselves on a beach up the coast a bit but were evetually persuaded to leave by 18 hours of straight rain. Nothing quite like camping in the rain to change a person's mind.

At approximately 10 pm tonight we are headed for Shikoku, the fourth largest island in Japan. At approximately 8 pm I set about producing and sculpting my "vacation beard" I find that I really enjoy myself more when I've got that badass je ne sais quoi about me. Little children run in fear, old ladies give up their hard earned subway seats and damn, I look good. So good in fact that Jennifer refuses to kiss me or even look at me, because If she did, she would be overcome with a-ni-mal luuuust. That's right, it's going to be a good week.

Japan does not use daylight saving time. We are stuck with early mornings and early evenings in the summer. At the solstice the sun peeks its head over the mountains at around 4:15 AM, just like it's supposed to and goes down around 7, maybe 7:15. This is not to say that the Japanese haven't heard of the concept of glorious summer evenings, in fact they tried it after World War II, the thing is, it just didn't work for them. Can you guess why? They had to abandon DST when they discovered that workers were doing too much voluntary overtime. People used to going to work after the sun set had to stay at the office an extra hour or two every day just to satisfy their consciences. They just didn't feel like they were working hard enough when they could still see daylight on their way home.

If that isn't screwed up, I don't know what is.

The country is reconsidering the notion starting in 2007 they'll do it on a 2 year test basis, but there are some doubts, the salarymen may just suffer like their fathers did. I say suck it up and take a vacation.

Ok, here comes what has become my weekly post. Whereas last week I had a lot to bitch about due to my super-busy schedule, this past week has been a delight with fewer classes and a lot less stress. I guess now that I'm older and wiser life is looking better for me.

I saw some interesting stuff on a bike ride last Friday. You gardeners out there know that when you are trying to prevent birds from landing and eating the things out of your garden that you may resort to various kinds of scarecrows to keep them out. One type is a stuffed or plastic thing shaped like a dead crow, hanging upside-down from a tree. Well, I saw a similar device employed in a farmer's vegetable patch though this one would have to be called a "scare-monkey" because it was a monkey doll with dead looking eyes suspended from it's hind leg. If that doesn't work, then the monkeys are either too dumb to realize that the doll is supposed to be a monkey, or they're too smart that realize that the doll is just a scare-monkey and that they really don't care anyway.

What would the farmers do if they knew that children had been snacking on their veggies? I can only imagine.

So, sunday was my birthday right? Well I had a pretty good day of rock climbing out with my closest Japanese friends, well, since I really don't have any close Japanese friends, it was just my Japanese rock climbing companions. I spent much of the day scrambling up and down some vertical-ish sections of rock and then falling down in a somewhat controlled manner off of them. It was good. Since Jennifer gave up rock climbing for lent, and then just decided to swear it off for good, she stayed home and cooked me a delicious dinner of kebabs and also a bitchin chocolate souffle. Lara and Shane were over and my parents sealed the deal by calling me at the appropriate time, before midnight. All in all a good day and as you can see by the pictures, a fun time was had by me.

The wine was not with out its ill effects however. This scene taken shortly after the contents of the box were halved. Primarily by yours truly.

It was a good birthday, as you may have guessed by this picture of the gift that keeps on giving, Vin de Box. From the estates of the Chapeau De Box in the upper Lorry Valley region of French. Please enjoy the soft taste and nice color of our Vin de Box.

Wow, now that I'm a minority, I can really relate with some of the stuff I just read on the Blackpeopleloveus.com website. Only, this time, I'm the black people!!

I really enjoy the way that I speak for all Americans when I'm the king of my own little classroom. I let people know just how much Americans love George Bush, Guns and Jesus. I'm being honest and true to myself in the spirit of international goodwill and understanding. I think I should start a new website about it, whaddaya think?

Well, I knew that this guy had some super human powers when I was riding with him in the Twin Cities. I worked at Grand Performance Bicycles the summer after I graduated Mac and also the following summer. Adam was a sponsored racer for the Saint Paul Bicycle Racing Club sponsored by Grand Performance. He later joined the Jelly Belly Aramark squad where he seemed to have limitless energy and stamina. Hmmmmmm, I have a little more insight into why now. Better racing through chemistry has always been MY motto after all.

This is a birthday shout out to my man in Asia, Alf Hickey. It's his birthday today and I think that we should all give him a pat on the back for sticking to his "cultural immersion" program for so long. The good lord knows that I'm ready to go home soon. I really can't say for sure regarding China but in Japan it takes a special kind of person to stay long term. That kind of person is not me, not necessarily.

My life is good, mostly, but I'm just ready to be something more than a conversational English teacher. Thank god for the first good wage in my life, but I could go with a little more job satisfaction now and then.

IN other news, I watched Sin City last night, downloaded surreptitiously from secret sources on the internet. I have to say that though the movie was visually interesting and quite stimulating, I didn't really love it. As you might expect, the characters were two dimensional figures, as if peeled off of the page and pasted directly onto the screen. If you like Quentin Terantino or comic books or Dick Tracey, then you've got a good chance of liking this film, but if you want more than eye candy, look elsewhere.

Snowing on Monday, now were up to the upper teens, Celsius that is. I guess that works out to about 75 or so in the degrees F (for flippin idiotic, really boiling at 212? what the hell). Anyway, the weathers up and so is my ire along with the new list of classes for the new school year. The Japanese school calendar starts around April 1st or so and continues on until August when the students get a 3 week summer vacation and then again until Dember/January when they get a New Years break of about 3 weeks. Then they're right back in their freezing classrooms with the kerosene stoves until mid-March when they finish up their school year with some finals and then it's back to the grind again April 1st. Sounds like hell doesn't it? Well, it may very well be.

We have just begun the new set of classes for the new academic year and consequently I am really hating life. I used to consider myself a flexible guy, a kind of "go with the flow" chill person. What I have discovered is that I'm not. I'm really a tense nit-picky workaphobic. I like to have my plans all laid out for the week so that I can get my recreation time all scheduled in there. Right now, things aren't working out that way. In fact, i have little idea of what my weeks will be like in the future, because I don't even know which of my classes will be cancelled. I teach about 15-20 regularly scheduled classes each week and then on top of that I often teach one on one lessons that are somewhat randomly scheduled each week. Right now i have taught about half of the classes I was scheduled because no students actually showed up to them. It's not my responsibility to drum up new students, just to teach them, which is nice, but it's just annoying to have to show up for work when no students ever materialize.

To put the icing on what has been a stressful week, I had to sit through an entrance ceremony for the girls highschool where I teach weekly. Aside from the fact that I got a bento lunch out of the deal, it was a total unpleasant waste of time. I was paid to sit and stand and show my presence, show what a good cog I can be in this dysfunctional machine that is Japanese education. That sucked. Luckily, after the boring waste of a pleasant morning I received the climbing shoes that I'd ordered a week ago. I ordered two pairs of shoes so as to be able to choose the best fitting pair and then to return the other. This would have been fine but for the fact that the assholes at Customs opened my box and charged me 5000 yen in duties. How awesome is that? The pair of shoes that I am going to keep cost $140, the shipping to get the two pairs over to me was $35 the shipping for the remaining pair back home for the refund will be about $15 and the duty fee, which I'm going to see if I can get reduced, is $45. Let's see, that adds up to, $235 which is like a plane ticket to Korea. What the hell, it's just money right? I think that I may wish to shoot someone soon. Fortunately, it's really difficult to get guns here. Now swords are another matter.

A week has gone by and now it's July... Wait, no it's not it's still fricking cold and in fact it snowed on sunday night. How about that for a fine spring day. The cold is getting to be a little annoying especially considering that it's been here since November. There's still skiing available in the hills but it's honestly not that enticing when the thought of bike riding and rock climbing pops into my head. I just don't really care to ski in April, at least not if it requires an hour to get anywhere.

What a whiner I am.

The new school year is starting here and I'm now busy sitting in classes set up for new students whose existence has not actually been verified. As I work for a consumer school, the general idea at the beginning of the year is to have a lot of classes and times available to the students and then to cancel them as the term goes on and no one shows up. My schedule will become a bit more free in a month or so.

My farts have been smelling a lot like whale recently.

How would I know what whale smells like you ask? Good question. It's because I have become the only guy I know to have eaten whale. And let me tell you, good reader, that there is a good reason that whales are an endangered species, THEY ARE DELICIOUS!

I went to a japanese style bar the other night with my co-workers and what did I find on the plate in front of me but none other than stir-fried whale meat. It was like the juiciest, most succulent beef I'd ever dreamed of. Let's just say that it was much more tasty than the bio-luminescent squid I ate at the same place.
Aside from Native Americans, Norwegians and the Japanese, the world has put a moratorium on the consumption of cetacians and so I am one of the privelaged few to actually eat this delicious endangered beast. While I don't know the exact species I devoured hungrily, I do know that it was by far the biggest animal I've ever taken part in the consumption of. Bigger than a cow, bigger than a horse, bigger than a yak and yes, bigger than an elephant (though I've never sampled elephant).

What's next on the list, I dare not guess.

My youngest brother, chip off the old block that he is, has made a movie with his friends and is submitting it to the Ames High Film Festival. I'd better get my name in the credits for providing he and his buddies with some key props, not least of which the outfits that they are wearing. Asa is the Yoda figure in the movie. Makes me tear up a little I'm so proud.

This past weekend I edfied my brain and reduced my propensity for stupid actions by taking an Avalanche Safety course in the nearby Hakuba area. Since I know myself and in particular, I know that in the future I really want to be able to go into the back country and come out alive, I decided to take this course. I just wish that I had taken it earlier while there was more of the season left.

I learned a great deal, particularly, that I never want to get stuck in an avalanche. Without searchers who are properly trained and if you're party is not using avalanche beacons, you are totally screwed. We did a field test where there were three beacons and one large backpack buried in a 50 by 50 meter area and my 3 classmates and I had to find the buried "victims". The three beacons we found at about 5 minutes, 7 minutes and 15 minutes respectively, while the buried "body" without a beacon took us a full 50 minutes to find. At 5 minutes you have a 90% chance of survival. At 15 minutes it's about 80% at 45 minutes it's down to 5%. Moral of the story, wear a beacon and make damn sure that your group members know how to use theirs.

Isn't this the picture perfect way to introduce my weekend? The usual foursome went to Nikko in Tochigi-ken, about 6 hours drive to the east. It is host to one of the more famous shrine/temple complexes in Japan. I would highly recommend a trip to Nikko for anyone visiting Japan, ever. The complex is a World Heritage site and is well worth the relatively short trip from Tokyo. The drive from Nagano, however is not necessarily recommended.

Nikko is set in a high alpine area surrounded by some pretty spectacular volcanic mountains. The daytime temperatures were quite nice, but at night we got rocked. I'm actually quite disappointed in our fancy sleeping bags that we bought at such expense last year.

Tokugawa Isaseyu, the first Shogun ruler of Japan and the fella for whom this shrine complex was built.

The particularly interesting thing about Nikko is that it's much more colorful than other temple areas of Japan. The Japanese style is usually quite subdued, color wise, and focuses more on simple outlines. Nikko is pretty gaudy in comparison.

These are some representations of the buddha as a child. They're called Ji-zo and have some particular significance that I can't quite remember. They wear hats and clothes to thank them for watching over people.

We camped for the low low fee of $50 in this lavish campsite. Well, they did have running water and serenety. How about that serenity?

We went rock climbing near Nikko on Sunday. The place was pretty awesome, but quite the zoo. I've never been anywhere with so many people climbing, although that doesn't really say a whole lot.

Me after close to 5 hours in the car, with one left to go.

We ended our road trip with a beautiful and stunning view of Mount Asama, the nearby active volcano. It's pretty cool to realize that we hiked to the rim of the beast just a couple of months before it blew.

Remember when I said I was awesome because I busted my bike pedal, well, I just got more awesome. I discovered that in the past week or so my rear rim has developed quite a nice crack in the sidewall. Yay. I usually like rebuilding wheels, but I guess it's a bit different when it's my stuff that I need every day.

It has occurred to me that I post only rarely these days. I can't explain exactly why, laziness I guess. I get pretty wrapped up in my little projects, as i'm sure most of you who read this blog already know. In that respect, it was a pretty busy week this past one.
My new project has been hammering smallish holes into largish rocks. I'm putting up a new rock climbing route. it will be one that no one else has done before, because I'm the idiot putting the bolts up there. There are three main branches of rock climbing; bouldering, traditional climbing and sport climbing.
In bouldering the object is to climb very short but very hard rock "problems" consisting of anywhere from 2 to 10 moves for the most part. In this variety of climbing one does not use any rope because you're usually only a few feet from the ground. If anything, you may opt for a "crash pad" to soften the landing area a bit.

Traditional climbing is regarded by most people as the most challenging mentally as it is the process by which silly humans scale rock surfaces and with the aid of a rope and specialized tools or "protection", they keep themselves from hitting the deck. Protection originally consisted of steel pitons hammered into cracks but recently has come to rely on easily removable "nuts" and "cams" which wedge into cracks and crevices to protect the climber. I don't do this type of climbing.

The last type is the most commonly practiced (at least in the US, Europe and Japan) which is commonly known as sport climbing. Sport climbing utilizes a rope, of course, as well as pre-placed anchors drilled and affixed to the rock. This allows for a more gymnastic and dynamic style of climbing, since the climber doesn't have to worry about putting in his or her own protection into the rock. Overall, this style of climbing is extremely safe, and compared with many other sports, has a relatively low injury rate. For reference ask my brother, he had his tooth crammed through his lip this past summer while playing a friendly match of soccer.

Anyway, this past week has seen me suspended on a rock face laboriously hand drilling holes in a basalt outcropping with an improvised hand-powered rock chisel. It has taken me about 1 hour per hole so far, but I'm looking to improve my rate with the purchase of a bigger hammer. Aside from smacking the back end of a carbide-tipped drill bit a thousand times, I could buy a battery powered hammer drill, unfortunately, they're somewhere in the range of $600-$1000. For now, I'll just kill my afternoons by smacking my thumb with a hammer 20 feet off the ground.

I've been waiting to post about my adventurism last weekend because I've been waiting for the pictures, you see, having a digital camera does no good if you don't bring it. Last weekend we hiked up a mountiain to the east of us called Nekotake. It was a great adventure full of thrills and spills. Well, actually it was mostly cool from the standpoint of the perfect weather and the natural beauty of the place. In other conditions, it might have been considered a slog. The slope of the mountain is really shallow, even though the thing is tall by Japanese standards, 2207 meters. I'll tell the story with pictures.

Here's a view of Lara and Jennifer in front of a Snow-Cat and by extension, the mountain we climbed Nekotake. The resort operates helicopter rides up to the top, but we opted for the hard way, climbing. Fortunately, the slope is quite mild so along with 0 risk of avalanche, the climbing wasn't so strenuous. The real goal is climbing Fuji and skiing down it next month.

The adventure started at the top of a ski lift where we put on our snowshoes and for me, my climbing skins and proceeded upward.

Here's one of the pictures of the hike upwards. You'll notice Jennifer with a snowboard shooting out the top of her bag. In the background are the North Alps of Japan. We're planning on hiking a good number of them this summer.

The clouds that whip over the mountain leave sublimate this frosty coating over the pine trees up here. The japanese call these things "snow monsters" and it's not hard to see why.

Here's a view from the top of the spectacular Mount Asama Volcano about 30 kilometers directly south of us. That's a cloud of sulphurous gas, in case you're wondering.

Here we are at the top. From the left to right we see Simon, Lisa, Dawn, Me,Shane, Jennifer and Lara.
While it took us about 2 hours to climb to the top, the hike down was all of about 25 minutes. It's kind of a letdown to see all your hard work evaporate like that.

As I was pulling in to the alley behind my office on Wednesday, I noticed a strange sensation in my right foot and then suddenly my foot came free of the pedal. Or actually, the pedal came free of the bicycle. I looked down and sure enough, my lovely bicycle had suffered a slight setback as the pedal spindle was firmly attached to the bicycle, but the pedal body was firmly attached to my foot. This presents some obvious problems, in this case, how do I get myself back home? I was fortunately given a ride by a co-worker and endeavoured to fix the pedal the following morning. This also proved problematic because upon closer inspection I discovered that I have completely worn through the bearings on the inside of the pedal, the wee balls were rusty and mangled and no longer functional in the least.

This brings me to the interesting part; it felt kinda good to see the destroyed pedal guts. There's something quite satisfying about wearing out sports equipment. If a car breaks down, of course you just get pissed and think of the money you have to spend on fixing it. For a bicycle however, I just think, "Yeah, I pedaled that thing to DEATH!" It's the same feeling I got from seeing the stacks of old running shoes when I was running a lot. I feel powerful to have made this artificial product yield to my manly power. Additionally, it's an excuse to get new toys, which may be the real inspiration after all.

In a short addendum to the email sent to me by CJ last week, i would like to just mention that this email caused CJ and his wife Clar to be refused entry to their then current fitness club. Apparently the Aspen Fitness Club in Cedar Rapids, Iowa found that CJ's vociferousness had no home in their establishment. Maybe it hit a little too close to home.

I'd like to post an email that I received from a friend of my family's CJ Ong, fitness consultant and multiple time Ultraman Athlete. Ultraman is like an Ironman (2 mile swim, 100miles on the bike and then a marathon) but in Ultraman you do multiply those distances by a factor of 2 or 3. He's finished several doubles and a triple. My point is, this is a guy who knows what he's talking about, and additionally, he's one of the few guys who really looks good in a moustache and ponytail.

I often wonder why America is the fattest nation in the world. With 60% of our adult population consider overweight or obese I offer the following opinion: The fitness club or facility industry is partially at fault.

A poster in a gym that I was recently in proclaims "cardio does not have to be so hard" and that working with the fitness professionals there will provide "maximum results with minimum effort."

Excuse my French but who are we fkn kidding here?

I agree that cardio does not have to be so hard but in reality it needs to be structured intelligently and offered to the members of a gym in a productive fashion. Offering 4 rip roaring high heart rate group cycling classes per week is counterproductive to weight loss! Look at the research.

And as for the farce of minimum effort for maximum results let's get real! People are lazy. So if they think they can get the maximum results in a minimum amount of time that is what they will buy into. And the fitness clubs bank on that. Most fitness clubs foster deception -- just like the infomercials hawking home gyms that will yield a beautifully sculpted physique in just 20 minutes a day! News flash: Those physiques were not built on just 20 minutes a day or with minimum investment! (some were built with the help of a plastic surgeon but that's a different subject!) Why would you want a client to actually reach the "apex" of fitness when you can keep stringing them along with false hope? More gadgets, supplements, pretty workout clothes in plus sizes - need I say more?

At the gym I see a few trainers who actually practice "personal training". Sadly most trainers are nothing more than glorified "fitness baby-sitters" who use a canned program for all their clients - everyone does plyos for six weeks-regardless if you are a grandmother who simply wants to be able to play with her grandchildren or a triathlete looking to improve their performance. The good trainers utilize differentiation and discrimination in their fitness program design as opposed to approaching personal training with a "no child left behind" philosophy.

The "no child left behind" philosophy that permeates many of today's fitness clubs is making America die a slow and agonizing death. It costs the country money in increasing health costs. In most group fitness class settings the emphasis on the part of the management is making sure that everyone has FUN, FUN, FUN. The QUALITY of the instruction is not measured at all by most management but rather the QUANTITY of instruction - NUMBERS, NUMBERS, NUMBERS! And woe be to the instructor wants to teach above the average! They might as well put on pair of safety glasses and be prepared to take a donut hole in the eye - wait it's been done! Here's another news flash: Even those below average (which is 49% of the population) need to be challenged so they can advance.

It's time for the fitness club industry to practice what they preach! One of the greatest athletes of all time is Olympian Dan Gable - he never deluded himself into thinking he could achieve maximum results with minimum effort. And as a coach he practiced what he preached. There was none of this bullshit of standing around with a whistle and a potbelly saying it doesn't do the athletes any good to have me do push-ups along side of them in practice.

It is time to have good representives in the fitness industry. I am offended by fitness class instructors with a roll of fat around their middle telling people to work harder.
Why would anyone want to join a gym where the membership counselors are fat?
I cringe when I see a client working with a personal trainer who allows them to bring the back in hyper extension when doing a standing bicep curl.

It is time for the fitness club industry to shape up! Quit dumbing it down, be honest to the members - quit stringing them along to make money and quit looking at them as a cash cow.

Instead of a fitness apex America is destined for a fitness nadir. It's gonna hurt!

C.J.

I realize that I have often posted about my increasingly AWESOME physique resulting from my extensive weight training, rock climbing and Atkins Diet, but last week I suffered a psychological setback. While comparing arm sizes with Jennifer and flexing in the bathroom mirror, I discovered to my chagrin that her arms are still bigger than mine. I can empathize with my friend Ben Knudson's recent shock to find that his neck size is significantly smaller than expected. I guess that maybe it's easier for me to accept my scrawnyness in Japan where I tower over most people and am bulkier than a good number. I've got evidence, I go to onsens (Japanese communal baths). Ben, however, lives in the land of the large, and what's more, a good number of his friends are pushing 200 lbs.

Last night we watched "Touching the Void" it's the documentary style film about Simon Yeates and Joe Simpson, the guy who while climbing a mountain in the Andes broke his leg and then fell over a cliff and then was abandoned as dead and miraculously arrived in camp some 3 days later after crawling off of a mountain. The film was really well done and thrilling to the last, even though we know that the story worked itself out alright in the end. It kind of tempered my desire to be a mountaineer, though I really want to go to the Andes now. I recommend the film to anyone, and particularly those with an outdoorsy bent.

Coincidentally, I believe my brother Ian is flying to Chile today. I'm not sure of his exact itinerary, but he'll be flying out of Miami and eventually ending up in the city of Valparaiso somewhere along the coast of that oddly shaped country. He'll then hang out and be disoriented for a day or two and afterwords he'll celebrate his twenty first birthday someplace south of the equator, making him the first Ritz to venture south of that mark and certainly the only one to celebrate a birthday outside of our hemisphere. Buena suerte Ian y cupleanos feliz!

I just thought I'd post my proof positive that I'm actually paid up on my student loans. I've been holding on to this email from the Sally Mae corporation for a couple of months and I thought that i'd just share my joy with y'all now.

The list below includes all the loans in your account with us. Loans marked with a star (*) are the loans referred to in this letter.
Original Loan Date: 01/17/03
Original loan amount: $12,661.17
Outstanding Principal: $0.00

Well, another set of my friends has become homeowners. Emi and Tim Baldoni are now the proud owners of a house, in Minneapolis of all places. I guess there is no reason for me not to get a house of my own, particularly now that Jennifer is on track to save $40,000 from our time spent in Japan. That's right, 40 grand in a little over 2 years. As for me, if we count my paying off of college loans as savings, I've saved more like $14,000 since I got here. Since much of that has been erased due to Dear Old Macalester, I'll probably go home with something like $7000 when all is said and done. Not bad, but not even in the same ballpark as Jennifer.

I guess this is Emi and Tim's new abode. It looks nice, quaint in that sort of twin cities way, makes me want to drink a Dunn Brothers coffee and raid the Whole Foods dumpster of plenty.

Another week has gone by and what do I have to say for myself? Not much, that's what. My job is fine, my home is comfortable, I am living the life of a foreigner in a strange land. I discovered to my surprise the other day that there's a girlie club near my office called "The New Ritz". I asked, and they are offering me a free round of drinks for me and 20 of my closest friends along with the company of any of the fabulous Filipina women they employ. The catch is that I would have to join the Yakuza and drive a black Toyota luxury car or maybe a Mercedes. The only catch would be that I'd have to bleach my hair a little an grow it into a mullet. So yeah, life is good.

I just caught wind of this from Alf's Mom, all you people who may have known the glory days of Alf should really check it out. It reminds me of what could have been. Alf, while not blogging has apparently been busy in China nonetheless.

ok, I forgot to post in reverse chronological order, so the posting is kind of screwy. You should start first at the bottom of the pictures and work your way up for maximum dramatic effect.

Our last day in Sapporo was spent recuperating from the previous day in Sapporo and we capped it of with a nice round of crabs. Expensive but tasty. I'm just glad we didnt' have to cook the poor bastards, they've got quite a personality.

needless to say, drunkenness ensued, though no really reckless behavior on the part of anyone in our immediate party. I was the DP, designated photographer, so I went light on the booze.

And then to the bar with the free drinks for women. As we entered Shane made a count, 47 women to 12 men, including the 4 bartenders. Now that's what I call a meat market.

Next came the hot baileys ice tent, a cup for 200 yen, what a bargain.

There was also a good selection of ice sculpture. Apparently one can make a pretty good living from being an ice sculptor, weddings, bar mitzvas, tractor pulls, you name it, they want sculpted ice.

We later toured the Sapporo Brewery where I bought a cool T shirt and marveled at the universal language...beer.mmmmmmm.

Here's a fine example of snow sculpture from the Sapporo snow festival. Imagine a bunch of small sculptures, mostly cute, and then some giant and really cool things such as this one and you have a good picture of what was going on.

I'm going to post a photo history of our Sapporo trip, prepare for a lot of photos.

We started out on Thursday about noon and got in to Sapporo about 5, found our hotel and then ventured out on the coldest day i've experienced in Japan. It was snowing like hell as we perused through the streets filled with snow and snow sculptures. We decided on ramen that night and found our way to a famous ramen district of Sapporo. It's pretty close to the red light district but a block over. After this we stopped in a trendy little bar and after headed back to the hotel. My pictures start the next day when the weather was a little better.

We're headed up to snow country tomorrow. Hokkaido, the northern most island beckons us. Thanks to the lovely birthday discount fare, Jennifer, Lara, Shane and I are going to see the famous Sapporo Snow Festival. We also intend to sample Sapporo beer and various otherworldly delicacies. Most interestingly, for Japan that is, is that the roads are all supposed to be straight and intersect at right angles in this miracle city. We'll have a boatload of lovely pictures to share with everyone when we return.

Jennifer and I had a pretty good weekend leading up to her birthday yesterday, superbowl sunday in fact. Saturday involved a trek to the neighboring city of Ueda, one of the top 3 sunniest cities in Japan. The aim of our trip was beef, big and bloody and brasilian. For some reason, Ueda has a lot of Brasilian immigrants and therefore hosts a lively subculture that is very interested in BBQ. After procuring our 2 kilos of red flesh we returned to lovely Nagano and socked it in the fridge. The evening was filled, incedentally with the always lovely but now ridiculously popular because it's illuminated in several colors Zenkoji temple. We stopped on by and then on to dinner and what else? Karaoke!! It wasn't my idea and Jennifer and I had planned to maybe do something else with our time and avoid hangovers, but what can you really do when everyone wants you for your lovely personality and great looks? Nothing, so you go and you sing your heart out to a room full of drunkards and a TV while the shocked attendant brings drink after drink to the room. Such a lovely hobby. Such despicable things done to fine songs.

For me, karaoke is one of those things that I don't really have a good time doing but at the end I can look back and say, "Hey, I'm glad that I did that." In particular there was another midwesterner there saturday, Tim, from Milwaukee. It was great to be around another one of my own kind, people who know what High-life is and who can appreciate mosquitoes. I can't wait to get back to the motherland people, it's calling my name.

Now here's a midwesterner by god, and what a man, a beer drinking, sausage loving, Milwaukee son. I knew one of those good but lazy men once...

Debauchery in no uncertain terms. If a man can't stand, he ain't much of a man, but he'll carry on with the tunes until they rip the mike from his hand.

Beef, as big as your head, how do you explain that?

lovely Zenkoji temple scene of many tripods and about $100,000.00 worth in cameras per evening (for real, I saw like 20 nikons)

I can tell that I'm a little bummed, I get the urge to buy stuff. I can't recall if it's always been like this, but recently I've been trying to buy my way out of depression (mild). My other problem is that I love gear intensive sports. I love cycling, skiing and rock climbing and I particularly love all the cool gadgets that you can buy to make it seem more enjoyable. I always say to myself that I am just a conneseur of fine products, that it's ok as long as they're high quality that i'm not wasting my money, but really, it's just a lie to allow me to buy cool stuff.

Don't fool yourself people, your not enjoying the finer things in life, you're enjoying toys.

Anyone who says that sake is hangover free is a damn liar.

Saturday we spent a sizeable chunk of the afternoon touring one of the locally renowned sake breweries. The brewery is called Waka-midori and means "Light Green", like the color of new shoots of rice. We arrived about 2:00, Shane, Lara, Jennifer and I along with the hookup; one of lara'a co-workers and his wife. They were both flight attendants in a previous line of work and therefore both had impeccable English. It was the first time that I'd heard a Japanese person use the term "microbe" in a sentence. Not that I doubt the abilities of some of my students, but this was pretty much unheard of from a higshool english teacher. Anyway, we arrived about 2:00 and took a nice little tour of the brewery, tasted some of the fermenting rice sludge and saw the room where they make the starter batch of koji and yeast to get the sake really rocking in the fermenters. They use open fermentation tanks, which I thought was pretty odd, most beer brewers want to seal off any outside influence from various yeasties floating in the air, but I guess that this brewer is famous for his distinctively flavored sake, probably a result of the airborne wild yeast. We sampled some sake from every stage of the process, the rice, the rice mash, the bubbling concoction in the tanks, the freshly pressed finished sake and then some other stuff that had been ageing for a couple of months. The time was about 2:45 and I was a little tipsy due to the high octane levels present in our various samplings and also the fact that among our group, I liked sake the best, therefore prompting me to drink the leftovers from everyone else. Our tour now over, had but to sample the finished wares and be on our way. Little did we know that this would be a 4 hour process.
Mister Imai, the owner brought us into his 100 year old house with magnificent japanese woodwork and screens and sat us all down at his heated kotatsu table where we had a spread of appetizers including salad, fried chicken bits and pickles as well as an assorted selection of at least 9 liters of sake for the group of us. Not only was it sake, but particularly it was "Dai-ginjo" sake which is made from only the core of the rice grain and is also about 20-22 percent alchohol. The weakest stuff at the table was apricot wine which had about 12 percent alchohol. We did our kanpais and our toasts and then proceeded to drink about 7 of those 9 liters. This was followed closely by the owner's wife introducing herself briefly and then whipping up some fried noodles and gyoza dumplings for us. After this last feast we packed up and prepared to go (rather tipsy by now, but since Shane and I at least had ridden bikes, no big problem) only to find that Imai-san had already ordered two pre-paid taxis and refused to let us ride our bikes home. A more awesome display of hospitaltiy I have never seen. Not a yen paid by us and we each left with a giant magnum bottle tucked away in our jackets.

Oh yeah, and we went skiing on sunday, but really, how can you top an evening like that!

Here is an actual picture of a pair of snow kangaroos. The female is the larger of the two and more powerful, but otherwise indistinguishable from the male. In general, the female will kick the crap out of potential suitors until she finds one who fits the bill. Little is known about their habits and I'm lucky to have cought them on film.

It has been supposed that the picture that I posted of the Kamoshika is actually that of a Japanese Snow Kangaroo. This is decidedly not the case. Snow kangaroos are somewhat taller with large pontoon like feet to help them jump through the drifts of often powdery, deep snow that coat the mountains and hills around Nagano and elsewhere in Japan. Snow Kangaroos are most closely related to the Yeti-dog of inner Mongolia and are recognisable by their dog like canines which they use to root for grubs and tubers. The Kamoshika, on the other hand is also known as the Japanese Serow and is related more to the goaty-llama type animals that so frequently inhabit petting zoos around the world.

In other news, I just finished Eric Larson's "The Devil in the White City" a true historical account of H.H. Holmes, the first known serial killer in the US as well as the trials and tribulations of the World Columbian Exibition in 1893. Let me start out by saying that i'm a little biased of course because I'm really an urban planner at heart and also as a one time resident of Hyde Park in Chicago, I have a soft spot for Chicago based literature and since I was only a 5 minute walk from where the Exibition was held, more than a passing familiarity with the grounds. All the same, it's history that reads like fiction. It was so good that I found myself cringing at the thought of such rabble rousers as Eugene Debs spoiling the progress of the honorable architect and builder Daniel Burnham.

This, along with The Jungle is a "should read" for anyone who has stepped into Chicago for more than a passing glimpse at the airport.

This is the lovely Boob Mountain Range. I ascended almost to the right teat that you can see there, but snow and a cramped schedule prevented me. Damn that 3:00 class!

I would like you all to see one of the finest names for candy in all of the land. This really defines a bit of the japanese love of the sappy. In what must be one of the corniest, most faux-sincere countries on the planet, it's really the product names that stand out.

Behold the mighty Kamoshika, lord of the buxom hills.

I climbed within 20 vertical meters of the top of Lower Boob Mountain the other day.

If you look outside our window, you can see two mountains off over the M-Wave building. From this perspective and that from much of this part of the city, you would swear that they were meant to emulate a voluptuous relative of the Jolly Green Giant. Since I had no class until 3, I took it upon myself to do a little mountaineering up along the ridge line. Jennifer and I had attempted to summit Greater Boob this past summer on an incredibly hot and humid day, we were forced back by lack of supplies and also lack of will. I decided I wasn'a ganna stand fer it anna' moer!

My new boots proved to be adequate and the snowshoes that I purchased for the low low price of $50 last week were actually unnecessary, though I lugged them all the way up just in case. I could have used them at the top, where the snow was about a meter deep, but the terrain was so steep as to prevent their effectiveness. What I really could have used were some ice axes. You know, the kind that mountaineers always carry to help them through all kinds of snowy and icy terrain , and which also may be used as a crude hunting implement or means to defend against wildlife gone amok.

As we touch on the subject of wildlife gone amok, I ran into 3 examples of the unique and strangely zen Japanese Kamoshika. The animal is rather like a goat but when you bumble across one you are momentarily unsure what to think. Dawn, the Kiwi from Suzaka usuall describes them, "You know, Kamoshika, the pig-dog-goat-bear things." Fortunately for me, they are incredibly docile (often giving the impression of stupidity) and allowed me to take several choice pictures of them.

I finally reached the not-quite-summit and then, realizing the time, lept down the mountain in a quarter of the time that it took me to get to the top. That's the beauty of jumping into giant snowpatches, they don't hurt you, unless they're covering pits or logs.

Overall it was a successful expedition. Next, I will make an attempt at Greater Boob. My report will be featured exclusively on this website.

Last saturday as i mentioned, was the Nozawa Village Fire festival.

A little background on festivals in japan. Festivals are the only times when this otherwise staid and calm culture really just freaks out. Festivals are a chance for the participants, whomever they may be, usually young men, to get totally ripped with their buddies and go do something stupid while wearing ridiculous outfits. The one we saw last spring in which men ride logs down dirt embankments was one example. Another example is the festival where they fly giant kites which sometimes kill people upon crashing. The Fire festival is the latest and by far the most outrageous disregard to safety and common sense that i've ever been witness to.

This particular festival is based around two traditions: First is that of burning your newyears decorations on the 15th of January, the second is on the idea that the ages of 25 and 42 are particularly bad luck years for men here. The synthesis of these two beliefs results in the following procedure.

The townspeople of Nozawa Village drag a bunch of brush and trees down from the mountains sometime in the fall and let it get good and dry. Then about the 13th of January they prepare the shrine which looks something like a giant ornamental birds nest reaching about 40 feet high. On the 15th of January the 25 year olds and the 42 year olds get pretty lit on sake and light a large bonfire at the edge of the arena surrounding the shrine. At this point the 25 year olds and the 42 year olds gather around the shrine and chant and get ready with the old guys on top of the bird nest platform. The next stage is where it gets really interesting. Village notables as well as some young children light reed torches on the bonfire and march towards the large shrine in a ceremonial effort to set the thing on fire. The younger set of unlucky men, armed with pine branches and nerves steeled with alchohol wait for these dignitaries to try to light their shrine and then calmly swat the flames out. After about 2o or so minutes of this the shit hits the fan and groups of drunken village men of all ages join the fight. They take up the torches that the old guys pitch down from the roof, run to the bonfire and lighting them, head back for the shrine to do battle. These guys are for real, they stage ambushes, rushes and full on frontal assaults with their burning torches. I saw guys whipped in the face with bundles of these flaming reeds. Time and time again the stupid drunks attacked eachother. While the supposed goal of the attackers was to destroy the shrine, it seemed more like the attackers were trying to destroy the faces and hair-dos of the defenders. It was not unusual for glowing embers to sputter out on the hair and flesh of the unlucky 25-ers. Thank god that i'm not from Nozawa, as this would be my year!

here's another shot of the hapless 25 year old defenders. Note that these guys are hooked by the wrist to the shrine, thus giving them some motivation to keep it from going up in flames.

torches being carried towards the shrine

I wish that I were competent in cool things such as avalanche prediction. It is my utmost desire to travel via ski to the more remote places in the snowy mountains around nagano, but my boundless enthusiasm has had a kick in the shorts after receiving this email from a fellow foreigner in the area.

If you or one of your friends starts a slab avalanche, you have a few seconds to get off that slab before it breaks up and you fall over. Once you're down, your board/skies will dag you under. If you make it unscathed to where the avalanche finally settles, you will often be in a sitting position. You have 2 options then. Try to punch a hole through the snow before it freezes or try to make as big a breathing space around your head as possible. All it takes is a few cm above your outstretched hand. As you breathe under the snow, your breath will melt patches of the surrounding snow which will immediately re-freeze to form a fatal bubble of ice around your head- not a nice way to go.Avalanche snow settles and freezes within seconds. You will not be able to wriggle or move. Snowboards or skis have no chance of getting through it. You have approx 15 mins of breathing air available before you fall unconscious. Then your brain has a further 3-4 mins before it starts dying of oxygen starvation. So your friends have 15 mins to dig a hole for you to breathe on your own

I'm reminded about my tendency to go overboard with stuff. I tend to get an idea in my head and obscess about it for a good long while and then, without much experience to back my mental calculations, i go nuts. Former roomates and friends of mine will readily confess that it can happen that I get in a little over my head. One might consider my home-made banana moonshine or the cortizone injection that I whipped up in our kitchen using some anti-itch spray and a bit of stolen lab equipment.
I guess the moral of this story is, I should probably show some restraint when venturing out of the groomed tracks this winter. Please, all you praying folk, pray for my willpower and restraint.

I'm in the process of reading my third Tom Robbins novel. I've read "Another Roadside Attraction" and "Half Asleep in Frog Pajamas" and now I'm on to "Villa Incognito". While they are always good for some trivia and a laugh, I didin't really fall in love with the other two, and I'm not sure why I'm reading this one. I guess I shouldn't be so critical of myself, it is afterall a book and not a cycling or climbing magazine. It would behoove my atrophied noodle to work on reading more works with more than 10 pages devoted to a single topic.

In other news, tomorrow is the Nozawa Fire Festival. I believe that I posted a brief sketch of this last year, but tomorrow I will actually see the event, rather than just hear stories and legends. It is basically a time for the Japanese to get ripped on sake and burn down some towers upon which old men are standing. It sounds like good fun, i'll be sure to write more tomorrow.

the nice thing about this digital camera that Jennifer and I bought is that I can take as many crappy pictures as I want and post them simply and easily. My myriad readers should brace themselves for an onslaught of photography.

Here's a picture of me that some random passerby took shortly after my damaging fall. You'll probably notice two things. 1. The snow is really deep. 2. My skis are called Mountain Noodles.

Japan has the same attitude towards snow that it does about so many other things; let it be and maybe it will go away on it's own. The local government occasionally plows the larger streets in the event of a large snowfall, but they just let any road smaller than 4 lanes "clear up of it's own accord". This really makes for challenging bicycling to say the least. I haven't crashed yet this year, but then again, I only rode to work once so far. Today is snowing like crazy, so we'll have to see how my luck holds out.

I don't know for sure, but knees aren't supposed to make a popping noise are they? I took a digger yesterday at the end of the day, while going not too fast and admiring the sunset. Sproing, flip, pop, groan is the appropriate order of it i believe.

Oh well, i guess it's just time to be a grumpy bitch while i heal up.

The first day back at work is always a hard one. Fortunately Friday is the easy day, my best students and best class environments. It's also easy since I've got a 3 day weekend coming up tomorrow through Monday. What a way to start back into the old grind eh? Skiing should figure prominently in the weekend's activities, I'm hoping to establish some new bruises and bumps on my arse.

In other news, jet lag is not as bad as the process of shrinking one's stomach to it's pre-gluttonfest proportions. Since being constantly exposed to food during the recent holiday binge, I've increased 2 dress sizes and have noticed alarming signs of distress around the seams of various clothing items.

Well, it's good to be back. Mostly, it's good to be done travelling as we were in some form of transportation for the past 27 hours (that includes airport time though). In the plane back I started and finished "Timequake" by Kurt Vonnegut and watched three shitty movies, "Little Black Book", "Catwoman" and "Shark Tale" with the last of those three being the most enjoyable by far.
I had a really good visit home. It was almost too easy to be back. It is one thing to live in another place for a year and a half, but really, there's almost no experience that can erase all of my formative years at home in the good ol' US of A. I honestly expected there to be a good bit of culture shock coming back home after my longest ever absence. The biggest problem I had was portion management. American restaurants are psychopathically overserving us. Why don't we just pay a little less, get a little less food and keep our waistlines thinner and our wallets fatter? I don't know, i guess there's always going to be a thrill in a mountain of food. The thousand calorie rollercoaster eating binge. Not only were restaurants troublesome, but the glorious home cooked food available at my fingertips every second of every day was sincerely heart stopping. I put on a couple extra kilos just for good measure at every house i visited.
Now, back in the land of no insulation and no snowplows, I'm going to find it hard to stop thinking about the life that could be, lounging around the US.

Oh yeah, if anyone out there across the ether finds a set of keys, 1 house, 2 bike lock; please let me know. You see, I somehow misplaced them in all the festivities. They're either at Ben and Marye's house, Emi and Tim's apartment, or someplace else in the Midwest. The last time I remember them was at Ben and Marye's house, but I'm pretty sure they made it past there. Oh well.