Stairway to Heaven

Wow. So... this is going to be an attempt to put down in words an experience that quite possibly can only truly understood by living it. Nonetheless, I will do my best to record the adventure so that those of my friends and family with bad knees or an unwillingness to hike up 3,992 stairs from maybe 100 feet above sea level to 2,820. Yeah.

As you can see from the picture, there are a lot and they're steep. See the highway down there? That's where the trail started. Underneath the raised highway. Still not convinced it was hard? Well, now imagine that that hike has to be made at 4 in the morning (1) to avoid the security guard (who keeps people out because the stairs were officially closed due to excessive danger) and (2) to see the sunrise. Finally, to cap it all off, the stairs and handrails got wetter and wetter, and thus slicker and slicker, the higher we climbed. Anyway, now that you're thoroughly convinced that this was crazy, it's time to tell the story.
Well, my good friend Jeff Geddes is back in town for about ten days with his family. He was here last semester but didn't return as he's leaving on his mission in a couple of weeks. Nevertheless, as previously mentioned, he did come back to visit. Three factors convinced us to go on the hike: We've always wanted to do it, it was a three day weekend so Monday morning would be ideal, and we had access to cars as his family had rented two. The time was right, so we went for it.
Monday, 2:30 am. My alarm goes off. I gave myself a lot of time to get ready because I knew I'd be slow-moving. Showered, packed my camera and water, and walked over to Jeff's rental house.
3:20. Arrival and preeminent departure. We load up in the car drive back to the school, where we actually picked up a whole crew of people. Guess I could have stayed.
3:40. We leave campus crowded into the two cars. Not the most comfortable ride at any time of day, let alone at this unseemly hour.
4:20. Arrival at the drop-off spot in Kaneohe. Jeff's parents, who were SAINTS to drive us, wished us well and returned to Laie to catch some more sleep. We followed the well-worn trail around the stay-out fence and we were on our way. It was a small walk just to the trailhead and we enjoyed stumbling around inside a bamboo forest.
4:30. At long last, we saw our first stairs. They start literally directly under the highway in the picture above. We started up with a will, soon only pausing to gape in shock at the sheer intensity of the endeavor. I have never seen so many false peaks in my life... every time I thought things were about to level out, we crested a rise only to observe another near-vertical ascension of a hundred feet. This is about the point where I started to question my judgment in coming. Why did I wake up so early to torture myself?
4:40-5:15. I'm unsure of the exact time as my focus was more on staying alive than on keeping a captain's log, but somewhere in there we reached the first observation platform. We commenced rejoicing, despite being less than halfway. The following view could be seen:

10 minutes later. You guessed it: more stairs. I lagged behind a bit and changed from long pants (which had been suggested by a friend who had done it before) into shorts (suggested by common sense). I felt loads better but still was dragging a bit as I wasn't feeling well... excuses, excuses. I followed up last and had some good soul searching moments. Why am I doing this again? By now my fear of heights was setting in on top of the fatigue and was making a solid effort to just keep going. Then there was this great moment when the words of Thomas S. Monson came to my mind. It's a quote I have always loved and saved and turned out to be more than a little applicable. He said, "As priesthood holders, we may find that there are times in our lives when we falter, when we become weary or fatigued, or when we suffer a disappointment or a heartache. When that happens, I would hope that we will persevere with even greater effort toward our goal." I kept going.
5:35-5:55. I caught up and we reached the second platform, complete with some old military buildings put up for observation. We took a short break, enjoyed the view, then hit the last, slipperiest, steepest part of our journey.
6:11. The top! Absolutely astounding. Such a feeling of relief and triumph... the whole world was before us, though it was still dark. We relished in the euphoria of the moment but soon were huddling inside some other ruins, seeking shelter from the wind as we awaited the sunrise. I changed back into my long pants and sweater and silently blessed the friend who'd advised me to bring them along.
6:45. The most incredible sunrise of my life. Beyond description. Pictures are worth a thousand words, so here's some now.





7:40 Beautiful though it was, we eventually had to come back to earth. We left Heaven and redescended... in better light, it was easier to take pictures, though it feels impossible to take pictures that adequately express the scope of this adventure.


8:45 Back on solid ground, we vowed to never touch a stair again. It was hard, it was dangerous, it was terrifying. Sometimes you have to go through Hell to get to Heaven... but it's worth it.

A Big Bowl of Fruit Loops

Thanks Trisha! http://trishazemp.blogspot.com/

So the big story for this week maybe won't be much of a story but it was a hecka good time. The pictures should also be delightful. See, our good friend Trisha is an aspiring photographer and wanted to have a photo shoot. The subjects: us, her friends. The theme: pouring a bowl of fruit loops over our heads. With milk.
Well, she broke the idea to us at dinner, which, by the way, was a pretty awesome celebration of Chinese New Year. The caf actually did a really good job and the food was great. Ate loooaaaads of egg rolls. Anyway... she told us what she wanted to do and asked for volunteers. I'll admit, I was more than a little incredulous. Fortunately for our story, the idea quickly grew on me and I agreed. In the end, pretty much everyone else did too.
An hour later, I met up with Sydney and Joanna and we headed up to the photo studio. We all wore white shirts and then shorts that could afford to get sticky- personally, I wore a swimsuit. Well, we played around in the studio (it's also a dance studio) and danced to great music like Barbara Ann and Roses Are Red while Trisha set up the lights and did her 'still life' bowl of fruit loops.
At last, it was time to begin. Ali went first as she had to dash off to swing club. She sat on the stool, posed with a bowl, got in some shots, and then handed the bowl over to Joanna, standing on a chair out of the way. It was time.
You can guess what happened. The bowl tipped, milk poured, Ali's eyes widened, the camera flashed, a HUGE mess was made, and we all laughed hysterically. The shots are phenomenal; Ali could be a genuine model.
Soon though, it was time to start over... Being poor college students, we have perfected the art of recycling. Fruit loops were gathered and returned to the bowl. Yes, they were on the floor. Yes, they were wet. Yes, they were sticky. Yes, they were delicious... ok, just kidding. That's disgusting. Who would do that? Ahem...
But back to our story. The cycle repeated a couple of times, until it my turn. Yours truly sat before a camera and allowed his friends to empty a bowl of exceptionally soggy cereal over his head. And the pictures are AWESOME.
I learned that the sugary milk makes an excellent hair gel, by the way. I've never been able to get my hair to stand straight up like that so easily ever before... Well, clearly, a shower was in order, and that's what I did. Thus ends our story for today...

Jon Schmidt and the most amazing concert of my life!

So... Jon Schmidt is awesome. He has been an inspiration for me for years, ever since I heard his song "Waterfall." I fell in love, learned it, and have been a disciple ever since. I've attended several of his concerts (3), and so was excited by the opportunity to go once more last Friday. I think I was the first person to buy a ticket...
Anyway, from experience I knew that he usually invites a member of the audience to come up and improvise blues with him during the course of every concert. I have always wanted to be that person, but have never met the criteria. By his own declaration, the person must (1) never have met Jon or played with him; (2) be able to ham it up the entire time; and (3) be able to call out the notes in the blues scale in the key of C. Each time, while I have been fairly confident of meeting the first two requirements, I have never been able to fulfill the third.
With Friday approaching, I knew I wanted to be 'the one,' but I was still unsure of my competency as I did not know the blues scale. Finally, on Friday afternoon, I made up my mind to learn it, on the off-chance that I would have the guts to actually stand up. A friend in choir enlightened me and I spent a good half-hour practicing improvising blues in different keys. After that, I was compelled to return to my dorm and do homework... though I tried to make up time by listening to various styles of blues while I worked.
At long last, it was time to get ready for the concert. I redid my hair and even shaved... though I still hadn't made up my mind. It was preeminent in my thoughts, but I hadn't made a decision. Just as I was about to walk out of my room, the thought came to my head- "Why not me?" Strange as it might sound, it hit pretty profoundly. I realized that, at this point, the only thing holding me back was my own insecurities. I had nothing to lose; even if I tried and wasn't picked, I would end up in the same boat as if I hadn't tried at all, so why not? I resolved to go for it...
With this happy thought in mind, I stopped by the piano lounge and played one last blues scale before going to meet up with friends. We got in line, found seats, and then enjoyed the most fantastic concert I have ever seen.
Enough about me for a moment- this concert was phenomenal. Jon Schmidt was accompanied by his cellist, Steven Nelson, who is incredible, hands down. They played numerous songs together, some songs separate, and cracked enough jokes to make it feel like a comedy show. My personal favorite was the example of various 'Christmas shows' that Steve had performed in various countries. He explained how in each country, our traditional carols, in this case, "Bring a Torch Jeannette Isabelle," were adapted with local flavor. He demonstrated Germany's, "Bring a Torch Helga," to a lively polka beat; Russia's "Bring a Torch Olga in full-on angry, minor, classical style; Jamaica's "Bring a Torch Man;" China's "Bring a Torch Yao" in pentatonic harmonies; and India's "Bring a Torch Khalid." I was rolling with laughter...
But back to my story. After all, this is my blog, and is therefore self-centered by definition. So... I had actually almost given up hope for the chance to go up, as the concert had been going on for almost two hours and there was still so much they had to offer. But then, with fifteen minutes left, Jon stood up and announced, "Now there is something I like to do in every concert; a tradition of sorts..." My heart pounded; my pulse raced. As he spoke, numerous people started to move, and my stomach sank a little... so much competition. However, as he listed off the criteria, the crowd stilled. We noticed one of our choir friends turn and mouth the words, "I don't know the blues scale!" Jon stated, "If you know the scale, just call it out and come up!"
Using my best stage voice, I jumped in head first. "C! Eb! F! F#! G! Bb! C!" Another friend from choir misheard me and called out, "Wrong!" I stood in horror, but Jon said, "Hey, that should work... come on up!"
The rest, as they say, is history. I marched right up, scarcely believing my luck. I stood next to one of my idols, shook his hand, and introduced myself to the audience. I played the scale just once to again demonstrate that I knew it, then Jon laid down a base line and I took off improvising with everything I had. I'll admit, at first my hands were shaking... but by the time he told me to stand up and play, then jump and play, they steadied right out. It was amazing...
In retrospect, I know it wasn't the best blues improv ever; I have no training. But Jon Schmidt has this amazing talent of making everything sound great, whether it's some kid's improvisation or playing with your forearms and head. It was so cool. One of the best nights of my life, not even joking.
We finished amidst roaring applause, and I returned to my seat. Jon played just a couple more songs, then they ended for the night. Sydney and I waited around for an hour to meet them afterwords, and they readily signed my book of piano music. Jon was even kind enough to write, "Thanks for making the show!" Seriously, coolest guy ever.
And that, dear readers, is the tale of Jon Schmidt and the most amazing concert of my life.

Good Morning America!

Ok, so I have been doubly motivated by the movie Julie and Julia and (more importantly) an awesome fireside speaker to start blogging in order to not only record cool things in my life and share them with other people, but to help fill the internet with good things. Best regards to my dear friend Sydney, who has undertaken to be my blog buddy. Our commitment to each other is to write at least once a week. Her blog can be found at: http://sydneysturgeon.blogspot.com
By all means, any seemingly outlandish adventures here recorded will be verified on her own blog. "In the mouth of two witnesses... shall every word be established" (2 Cor. 13:1). Well, for the moment I shall sign out for the night as I actually need to get up in the morning, but I promise to write soon about my experience with Jon Schmidt. It seems a fitting inauguration.