So goes the Stairclimb

The Scott Firefighter Stairclimb is really quite amazing to see. We all show up at around 8AM, and this year there will be more than 1,300 of us doing the climb. The Columbia Tower in Seattle has three open floors at the bottom, and these provide the holding area for everyone. You have never seen so many sets of bunker gear and airpacks in all your life!!

We are organized by battalions, and as our battalion is called, we grab our gear, head up several escalators, and walk to a check-in table. After that table, we head outside, and are checked for completeness of gear (some participants in the past have tried to climb without liners in their coats, non-structural boots, etc. to save weight and heat). Finally, we scan a timing chip that is attached to our wrist and enter the building, spaced 15 seconds apart.

We enter on the 4th floor, and walk down a hallway to the stairwell, and up it goes from there. About every ten floors, there are volunteers from the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society cheering us on, and they'll pour water down our backs (inside our coats) if desired. I didn't think I'd want this, but let me tell you, it is very welcome on race day!!! There are also paramedics in the stairwell all along the way, and they will get right down in your face to look at you through your mask and do a quick assessment of your condition.

On the 40th floor, we exit the stairwell and walk into a very small conference room with a dynamite view of the city. This room can only be described as controlled chaos. It is filled to bursting with extra bottles for each team, and bottle changers as well. Mind you, there are more than 1,300 firefighters going up the stairs, so this room is packed. As we exit the stairwell, people start yelling, "Bainbridge Fire!" and our bottle changer gets to the front of the crowd and gets ready. We stop and bend over for a rest, and he changes our bottle out for a fresh one. This takes about a minute.

Once this is done, we continue through the room and back into the stairwell for the last 33 floors. Again, people are there to cheer and pour water, and the last cheerleaders are at about floor 71, 2 to go.

We exit the stairwell for the last time on floor 73, 69 floors above where we started, and scan our wrist chip again to end our time. About five volunteers descend upon each firefighter and literally strip them of all gear except pants. One of those volunteers is responsible for all the gear, and ensures that it all winds up in one place with the firefighter. I also recall having a bottle of water and a banana shoved into my hands as soon as my coat was off.

The 73rd floor is an observation deck, with almost a 360 degree view of the Seattle/Puget Sound area--it was grey last year, but still beautiful. This year we seem to be having an early spring, so hopefully we may have some sun. I will carry my small camera with me and try to get some photos to post later on.

After a bit of recovery, we head off to the elevator for the ride back down, and it's all over. It is a wonderful feeling of accomplishment and obviously a huge physical effort, but all well worth it.

Thank you again for your support, and send all the positive vibes you can on Sunday morning! My fundraising page is here: http://www.active.com/donate/17thscottstairclimb/GoGoGo
if you'd still like to contribute!!

Second dress rehearsal in the bag...

Did the second full gear climb today, with a backpack of 24 sodas to once again simulate the weight of an air pack. I did the same as last time; 82 times up, 82 times down, 1,312 stairs each direction. I hopped on the scale, and my gear (including backpack) is right on 60 pounds. I also weighed myself before and after climbing, thinking I'd see a drop of a few pounds due to lost water, but that didn't seem to be the case. But I did lose 1-2 pounds, according to my ultra-cheap and probably-not-very-accurate Wal-Mart scale. In fire school, they teach us that the average firefighter loses about one quart of water per hour in a fire, and I can verify this as being accurate in my own experience. On our burn-to-learn day a few years back, we had a total of 8 evolutions (fires) over about 6 hours. I was very well hydrated before starting the day, and I drank 14 or 15 pints of water and/or Gatorade during the day, and never had even the remotest urge to pee until the very end of the day. At that point, I thought, "Well, we'll be driving for an hour, and then on the ferry, so I should probably try to go." The urine was the darkest orange I've ever seen, in spite of all the fluids I'd had that day. And my bunker gear was soaked from the inside out, no small feat.

Back to stairs, I have to say that the climb today was noticeably easier than the one last week. My two theories about that are: first, I had a better memory this time of how hot it is, and second, I slowed myself down on my overall pace. I'd describe myself as trudging, but "slow and steady wins the race" as they say. Ironically, today I was finished in 35 minutes, where it took me nearly 40 last time. I started much much slower today, but finished at that same pace, and I think last week I started too fast and really bonked at the end--I had to take many breaks to catch my breath and so on last time around. Today I took the one-minute break at just over halfway to simulate having my air bottle changed, then took a short (5-10 second) break with 22 floors left to go, 12 floors left to go, and 3 floors left to go. On the real race day, there are volunteers cheering you on at least every 10 floors, and also with 2 floors to go--the charge of being so close to the end really carries you up those last few painful floors. I learned today that my main focus this year will be keeping my pace as slow as I possibly can.

At the end of these dress rehearsals, I can't get my gear off fast enough. Gloves, helmet, face piece, jacket, and then pants/boots. Let me just say how much I appreciate the fact that the volunteers at the actual climb literally strip you of your gear in seconds when you finish--with little or no effort on your part. It is a huge help, no doubt. We got new gear recently and the boots are awesome--snug and leather--but they are next to impossible to get off. Everything stays where it lands, and then I go for water, rowing, walking around; all I can do to let my heart unload gradually instead of all at once. This seems to keep my PSVT from acting up, which is always a good thing.

Recovery today was quicker, though I did have one moment when I (stupidly) sat down for about 20 seconds and then stood up to walk around some more. I definitely felt the lightheadedness of that, and won't do it again. But overall, this time didn't knock me down like the first one did--I also remember this from fire school--the first time we dragged charged hose lines up a stairwell, I thought I would drop dead on the spot. Each successive time was easier and easier, and ultimately, we learned how to do it with as little effort as possible, in addition to being in progressively better condition. So it goes.

The rest of the week will be about light workouts; some rowing, lots of walking, and lots of good food and fluids. Just keeping the old heart working a little bit, but letting the legs rest. I've surpassed my $1,000 fundraising goal as of Saturday, and may bump that up to $1,500, a good problem to have! This looks to be a good year for the climb for all of us at BIFD, and I'm once again glad to be able to take part. Five days to go...

Stairclimb dress rehearsal number one...

Well, stairclimb dress rehearsal one is in the books. The real climb is 1,311 steps over 69 floors--our house is only 16 steps, so I have to climb 82 floors to do the same thing. I count down and up as "one", so I actually move my legs 2,624 times. Since half of those are down, I figure it works out about the same--climbing non-stop up is harder, but also only half as many stairs.

Today I climbed in full bunker gear, including my air mask, and carried a backpack with 24 cans of soda in it--this approximates the weight of an airpack. In reality, it is easier to breathe on air, because the SCBA is positive pressure.

The main thought I had about it all (as with last year) was, "Whose bright idea was this anyway?"

What you just can't remember from year to year is how blasted HOT it is in all that gear--the weight and the stairs really aren't the big deal--it's the heat... Today I only wore shorts and t-shirt underneath, and everything was still completely soaked through. The other variable on climb day is the chaos of the stairwell--air alarm bells, cheering, etc. and people passing and being passed.

Anyway, I survived, even though I drank margaritas with Kathryn last night and still have a mild chest cold, so I should be OK for climb day at this rate. Perhaps next year I'll be at a more ideal weight for my height (185#, 20# less than I weigh now), and the airpack will be a freebie.

Madness. Two weeks to go.

Saturday in Munich; headed home

Travel:
Kathryn and I had one more day together in Munich, and just caught the S-Bahn down to the Marienplatz for a day of wandering and shopping. We found lots of good stuff; books, gummis, toys, etc. and were really amazed at how many people were in the city for such a cold February day, but it was the last weekend of Carnival after all, with fat Tuesday looming the next week. We had brats and so forth at the Augustiner Grossgaststaette, which was very tasty. Towards the end of the day we paid our admission and walked the 300 steps to the top of St. Peter's cathedral for a fantastic view of Munich. We're both pretty sure we did that the last time we were in Munich as well (1998), but our legs were ten years younger...maybe I'm NOT doing the firefighter stairclimb in March after all!!!

The rest of the evening was just the usual packing, arranging transport to the airport, etc. We also hit a local Italian restaurant for dinner (I don't know why it strikes me so funny to hear other nationalities speaking German with their own accent, but it does! The best was at a Chinese restaurant in 1998 where the owner spoke German with a heavy Chinese accent...) We had separate flights back to Seattle, so I left first on Sunday morning on Air France, and had very comfortable and easy connections from Munich to Paris and Paris to Seattle. I hadn't flown an A330 before, but it is very reminiscent of the 777--confident and powerful--and I had two seats to myself. After clearing customs, DJ picked me up and took me to the ferry terminal, where my mom had just arrived from Bainbridge, so she got into DJ's car and he took her right back to the airport--good timing! My last beer conquest for the trip was found at Commuter Comforts in the ferry terminal, and after watching the superbowl at home, I collapsed into bed at 8. Kathryn finally arrived home at 10:30 or so, with the fun proposition of being back in the office 12 hours later. The life of a bigwig...

Conclusions for the trip:
I definitely want to spend a lot more time in Belgium--I could see spending weeks and months there and barely scratching the surface.
I would also like to return to Munich and surrounds, for Bamberg and Weihenstephan in particular.

Beer:
Augustiner Grossgaststaette:
Augustiner dunkeles--mahogany brown, some DMS notes, malty and somewhat viscous, trace of lemon zest, caramel malt, dense creamy head. Very enjoyable.
Augustiner helles--dense creamy head, straw yellow, noble hops very present in the nose, slight malt character and not as crisp/dry as a pils, hops present in the taste but well-balanced. Refreshing.

Italian place:
Hofbraeuhaus Hefeweizen--the first decent hefe I've had on this trip, with typical banana, cloudiness from yeast, crisp and refreshing and no solvent or clove to speak of. Very nice after all the other disappointments prior to this.

Commuter Comforts:
Skagit River Brewing Dutch Girl Lager--very nice lager with plenty of hops (borders on English IPA in that department). Floral notes, straw yellow, head falls in very quickly.

Back to Munich; Dachau

Travel:
Thursday morning it was time to bid Belgium goodbye, and I caught an early train back to Brussels, followed by a quick flight to Munich. The beer put me 5kg (11#) overweight, and to my surprise and delight, I was charged 60 Euros (90 bucks!!!) for that precious 5kg. Such a racket. But this far in, I wasn't about to dump anything, so I paid my latest "tourist fine" and went on. It was good to be back in Munich and close to Kathryn--the branch manager of the Munich office was taking us all out that night, so I caught a taxi to a nearby town and shopped for a decent outfit, from head to toe. Also unplanned, but hey, I can't exactly show up in jeans and t-shirt for a formal dinner, right? That day (1/31) was Alteweibfastnacht (part of Carnival), on which the women traditionally emasculate the men by cutting off their ties. So my brand new tie lasted about three hours before being sheared off by Kathryn--that must be some kind of record for short tie lifespan. We went that evening to Palazzo, which is sort of a combination of a gourmet meal, theater in the round, burlesque and circus. It had everything from cross-dressing singers to Ukranian acrobats to a crazy juggler/rope walker that said "WHOOOOO!" every time he did something without a mistake. Very enjoyable, though more so for me since I speak German. Most of the group didn't get the jokes, but there were enough acts that they all still had a great time.

Next morning, I took the opportunity to sleep in a bit, and had lunch at the hotel while waiting for Kathryn and crew to finish up in the office. Around 1, they stopped by to pick me up at the hotel and we drove together to Dachau, which was one of the first concentration camps during the Nazi era. I have lived in Germany and have studied 20th century German and European history, but nothing really prepares you for a visit like this. In a book or on a movie screen, there is still some level of detachment and the ability for a human to convince themselves that this didn't really happen. But when you walk through the heavy iron gate, with "Arbeit Macht Frei" inscribed overhead, you can almost feel the ghosts drifting across the drab and depressing gravel common area where daily roll call was held. The photos and buildings are there in front of your eyes, refusing to go away; insisting that you acknowledge in your own soul that yes, the stories are true. This was a place of suffering and injustice; starvation and torture; murder and death; a monument to the very worst that is within us. As we all walked through the various stages of the museum, it became clear that every aspect of the harassment and torture was calculated--nothing was accidental or left to chance. There really aren't any words to describe this place, but the best that come to mind are chilling and appalling. On the one hand, it makes me feel so very proud of the US (and allied) soldiers of the day and all that they gave to preserve freedom. It makes me understand yet again (as did 9/11) that there is never a time when we can all lay down weapons, because there will always be another Hitler or Mussolini or Lenin or bin Laden. On the other side, it makes me look at how inconsistent our current policies are--only ten or so years ago, a million people were suffering much the same fate in Rwanda, and we (and the UN) did nothing to help them out. What is the difference? No threat to the US? No petroleum? No economic impact? Too much drain on resources? I really don't know the answer to this question; it is rhetorical to me. But I do know that each soul that was lost here, each of the 4,000 soldiers lost in the present Gulf war, each lost in previous wars--each one was a son, a daughter, a husband, a father, a mother, a wife, a friend. And knowing the pain that each loss caused is simply too much for a human being to take in. Kathryn ultimately had to turn away from the pictures, and I had to just walk around outside as it all washed over me again and again. I didn't want to go to Dachau, truth be told. But much like my visit to New York in January of 2002, it is so important to bear witness to things like this, because someday we have to be able to help Ronan and Megan understand what happened here, with some level of impact. "Fail to remember, doomed to repeat."

The drive back to Munich was somber and quiet, but with some good conversation about the whole experience as well. For that hour, we all were some sort of support for each other, helping each other make sense of it all.

We found a local Wirtschaft for dinner, and had a wonderful traditional Bavarian meal together before turning in for the night. Sam B. and I had a coaster-flipping challenge, and we each made it to 26 before I choked on 27 and conceded defeat. But I'm practicing for next time.

Beer:
The Munich leg of the trip is really more about spending time with Kathryn, so not a lot going on. Most of the places where we are staying/eating are within airport and/or tourist zones, so they tend to have the big-name beers that don't really represent the best of Germany. Nonetheless, here's a couple from the Wirtschaft Alte Post:
Erdinger Helles--golden yellow, pleasantly crisp, hint of DMS. Nice session beer and great with dinner.
Gruenbacher Schlosstaler leichte Weisse--a typical hefeweizen with banana and some clove. Also had a hint of something solvent-like, hard to put a finger on it, but not my favorite hefe in Germany.

Tulip Inn Munich:
Beck's Gold--typical large-scale, crisp German lager. Nothing out of the ordinary
Franziskaner Hefe--owned by the same company as Beck's, also typical German hefeweizen, but somewhat thin and also solvent-like. Also not my favorite.

Westvleteren

Travel:
After walking out of Brugge to get a rental car, I hit the road to Westvleteren. It is tiny--not even on the map--so I drove to the next town over and asked directions. To reach the abbey, one must drive down several one-lane roads, and pay strict attention to the fairly non-descript signs, but I found my way and parked across the street at the monks' pub, "In de Vrede" (at peace?). It is really quite a modern structure, with high ceilings, exposed beams, a gleaming bar, etc. I didn't realize, but there is lots of info on the brewery and the Trappist lifestyle there as well. I ordered the blond and a smoked ham and monk-made cheese sandwich, which arrived toasted like a panini. It was deeelish... There were lots of locals sitting in there having a beer and lunch--I wonder if they know how good they have it???

I then turned to more serious tasting and ordered the other two beers, the 8 and the 12. Since I was driving, I didn't think I'd drink all of the three beers that they make, but since they are some of the best in the world, and only available at the abbey, I just didn't have the heart to pour them out. My appointment for beer purchase wasn't for two hours, so I just lingered over the beers and really got a good feel for how they changed as they warmed up, etc. It was extremely worthwhile to taste them side-by-side, and I was glad to have done so.

After all this, I went to the small store in the pub, and bought some glassware, and a six-pack of the 12 (the beer at the pickup window that day was the 8). I asked to buy a second six-pack of the 12, and the lady almost came over the counter--"NO!! SIX PER PERSON!!!" I gathered that she had been asked to sell more than six once or twice before...she definitely needs a change of scenery from her current job... :)

Finally I got in line with the car, and I have to say that the monks have quite the arrangement. If you wish to buy beer, you first must call between 9 and 12 to make a reservation, at which time you give them your license plate number. If you get an appointment (it took me an hour before the line wasn't busy), you show up at the prescribed time and follow the other cars through. You are allowed three cases of whatever they are selling that day, and no more. They do not sell to business, cafes, pubs, etc.--only individuals. You pull in, they check off your license plate number, and you load your beer and pay at the window. Smooth.

Once back to Brugge, I stopped at a mini-storage place to get a box, tape and bubble paper. I decided it would be easiest to package everything at the B&B where I was staying, and didn't want to carry the beer all that way, so I drove to the B&B before dropping off the rental car. Now mind you, I had been warned about trying to drive in Brugge. But nothing prepared me for what it actually took to get a car from A to B as an outsider--I had a great map, and it took me over an hour to go the eight blocks or so from the city ring to the B&B. Brugge is like a living Rubik's cube--if you make even a single wrong turn, you have no choice but to head back out to the ring, study the map, and try to set up the labrynth of turns all over again to reach your ultimate destination. Since I knew this in advance, I was able to have a good laugh, but by the 9th or 10th try, I was getting frustrated.

The box was truly meant to hold this case of beer--I can't begin to tell you how perfect the fit was. I used most of a 50 meter roll of bubble paper to wrap each bottle, line the box, etc. and didn't lose a single bottle on the flights home. Carrying a case of beer through European train stations is definitely a good way to build upper body strength and cardiovascular capacity, but well worth it in the end...

After the night before, it was a good time to lay low, so I had a fabulous Flemish stew at Taverne Curiosa, and had an early bedtime.

Beer:
Westvleteren--
Blond--creamy head, straw yellow, slightly tart nose (brett.), crisp and refreshing with noticeable hops. Had a creaminess on the tongue after the initial crispness, and slight tartness (brett?). Later it had a fine dusting of sediment in the glass (yeast I would guess) which became more noticeable as time passed. As the beer warmed, the tartness became much more noticeable (but pleasant in all cases).

Extra 8--Deep mahogany color, dense creamy head, very little aroma up front and very viscous after the blond. A little chocolate, crisp carbonation, balancing hops (but not more). As it warmed, there was a slight bubble gum note, and clear hazelnut. As it warmed further, hops became more apparent and a little note of bread. In my opinion, this one should be served warmer than it arrives at the table.

Abt 12--Deep mahogany brown (almost identical to the 8), dense creamy head that falls in faster than the 8, little aroma (a touch of licorice/anise). Big licorice/anise up front in the taste, viscous and warming mouthfeel. Balanced hops. As it warmed, a little rum in the nose and fruit/floral (rose???). Fig, prune and caramel became very apparent as the beer warmed also. Here again, I'd serve this one warmer than it is served at In De Vrede. This was a stunningly good beer for me.