One more margarita? Maybe a mojito?

Chillin' at the Columbia, a restaurant specializing in its namesake, after a full day of classes, discussion and all-too-honest self-examination (See more photos from Poynter and Florida below). Nothing like a bunch of journalism nuts and a few extra drinks for a fun night out ...

Poynter wrap up

On the last day of the Poynter seminar we presented each other with diplomas. Here are some photos from that afternoon of fellow students and teachers. To those of you from the seminar who are reading this ... I had a great week and I hope our paths cross again.

Sunshine, shuffleboard and sealife

A couple of weeks ago I went to Florida for a (fabulous) conference at the Poynter Institute. Given the long journey and the exotic destination, I took a couple of extra days to explore St. Petersburg and soak in some rays. Jill and Chad, my gracious www.coachsurfing.com hosts, not only let me stay with them for a couple of nights, but also took me to the beach, taught me how to play shuffleboard and pointed the way to delicious Cuban, Southern and Mexican food.

Not pictured below: my encounter with dolphins. I was out running along the coast as the sun was setting ... when out of the corner of my eye I saw a fin bob out of the wake. I screeched to a halt, walked to the water's edge and then spent the next several minutes watching a couple of dolphins swim around only a stone throw away. In my fit of excitement, I promised myself to never again make fun of tourists who work themselves into a frenzy over a moose.

Day one in the sun

At the docks

The St. Petersburg skyline

The waterfront

Picturesque

Green galore

Silky sand

Jill and Chad

A bench in the courtyard of the Poynter Institute

Pretty bird

A run up Ram

On Sunday Zippy and I hiked/ ran from the cabin up into Ram Valley (positively one of the most beautiful places in the area ... it's a hanging glacial valley that cascades down between jutting peaks). It was a fabulous day to be out. Up on the ridge I ran into a neighbor, who graciously snapped a photo of Zippy and I, as well as spotted me (ie kept an eye on me in the improbable case of an avalanche) while I glacaded down a powder-caked gully. My neighbor had skis ... and covered my tracks with a few turns of his own. The best part: I actually wore Zippy out ... he slept for a whole six hours afterward = )

Zippy and I on a ridge, with the entrance to Ram Valley behind us

Zipparoni

Zippideedodah
I live in the bottom of this valley, aptly named Eagle River Valley. Cook Inlet is in the distance.

Zippers

A debris pile from an old avalanche

Around the cabin

Here's a couple of photos from last weekend ... it was a gorgeous blue sky spring-like weekend. Zippy and I went for two long runs ... Joshua and I spent the rest of the time just chillin'.

Will it be liberty or education?

By Amy Schenck

The Anchorage School District announced last week that the state of Alaska is requiring all kindergarten and elementary students to get not one, but two doses, of the varicella vaccination, commonly referred to as the chickenpox vaccination.

Such a requirement is fundamentally flawed.

Liberty in its very definition includes the right to make our own choices about healthcare - for ourselves and our children.

The government’s job is to protect this right, not violate it.

The chickenpox vaccination, like other vaccinations, can be quite beneficial, and many are already choosing on their own - without the strong arm of the state - to get this preventive treatment.

But deciding to forgo a chickenpox vaccination is far from negligent. Chickenpox generally has little repercussions other than to cause a period of irritation and discomfort. True, for some chickenpox can be severe and life threatening, but so are many things in life.

According to the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration’s Fatality Analysis Reporting System, 41,059 people in the United States died in 2007 from a motor vehicle-related incident.

Compare that to the few dozen people who die each year from chickenpox in the United States, and we should expect the state to ban school buses instead of requiring vaccines.

In December Providence Alaska Medical Center tried a similar antic, requiring all employees to choose either a flu shot or termination.

After some employees loudly protested and the nurse’s union filed a grievance, Alaska’s largest hospital rescinded the requirement.

Those who opposed the requirement made several valid points, but the most basic one was this: it’s each individuals right to decide if they want something foreign put into their body.

So what happens if students show up to school without a vaccine? Are they denied an education?

Yes, is the short answer. Exemptions are given to those who have medical or religious reasons for not getting the vaccination, as well as to students who can medically prove they’ve already had chickenpox.

In so many ways the state is basically saying we have to choose between two of our rights as Americans: the right to liberty or the right to education.

If society has already arrived to this point, what’s next?

And more importantly, how long will we stand aside and let the government be the puppeteer rather than the puppet?

Mammoth Mission

An injured veteran sets his sights 20,320 feet high
By Amy Schenck






It wasn’t a typical promotion ceremony: dogs barked, the thermometer read well below zero and attendees had to climb a mountain to get to the event.

In whipping wind and brilliant sun, Eagle River’s Maj. Marc Hoffmeister became Lt. Col. Marc Hoffmeister. And, as an unexpected bonus, the new lieutenant colonel received a medal for his service as the operations officer of the 425th Brigade Special Troops Battalion in Iraq.

Before promoting Hoffmeister, Lt. Col. Thomas Roth shared a few words with those gathered on the peak of Mount Baldy.

“Marc is not about climbing mountains, he’s about getting all of us to the top of the mountain,” he said.

Roth was at the scene April 22, 2007, when a roadside bomb, known as an IED, exploded, severely injuring Hoffmeister and the others in his truck.

“He’d been bandaged, waiting for a medevac, and he said to me, ‘Hey sir, I’m sorry, I’m not going to be able to finish this mission with you,’” Roth said.

The roadside bomb tore apart Hoffmeister’s left hand and caused a concussion without loss of consciousness, which led to moderate traumatic brain injury.

In an account Hoffmeister later wrote about the attack for his niece who did a school project on veterans and their experiences, he said:

“I wasn’t ready to leave my mission or my men. As I listened to the groans of the wounded and felt the throbbing pain and stickiness of my cradled arm, I knew I had a new mission…a long and painful mission of recovery. We all did.”

At the time, Hoffmeister didn’t imagine that mission would lead him, and a hand-selected team, to North America’s tallest peak.

A new mission

Hoffmeister underwent eight surgeries and spent two months in the hospital, before returning home to Eagle River to continue the slow recovery process.

All the while his wife of 13 years, Gayle Hoffmeister, was by his side, burning up her leave and sick time from her job with the Social Security Administration to care for her husband.

Hoffmeister lost feeling in his fingers and about half the muscle mass in his arm; titanium replaces what was once bone.

The couple shares a chronic condition: summit fever.

Together they’ve competed in several 24-hour and multiday adventure races and climbed nearly half of Colorado’s 14,000-foot peaks.

Gayle, who has long dark hair, a vibrant New York accent and an attitude of pure determination, refused to let Hoffmeister believe his wartime injuries could keep him away from the mountains.

Operation Denali

Last year Gayle told Hoffmeister she was going to climb Denali - a longtime dream for the couple. Hoffmeister hesitated, unsure of whether he’d be ready, or even able, to climb.

“She said, ‘I’m climbing with or without you,’ and I said, ‘not without me,’” Hoffmeister said with a grin.

And with that the parents of two grown children had a new mission, which they called Operation Denali.

When Hoffmeister talks he does it in the same way he climbs a mountain - at a fast pace. Military terms pepper his speech and he has a strong, commanding presence.

Hoffmeister graduated from West Point in 1992 and has been a commissioned officer ever since. He’s currently the engineering division chief in the Alaskan command on Elmendorf Air Force Base.

Hoffmeister quickly realized he wasn’t the only one who could benefit from a high-altitude endeavor.

While at the gym last March he began chatting with Dave Shebib, who was wounded in Iraq when he stepped on an IED.

Hoffmeister asked Shebib if he’d be interested in climbing Denali. When Shebib said sure, Hoffmeister told him to really think about it because he was putting together a team. Shebib, who Hoffmeister describes as a bit of a dare devil, took Hoffmeister up on the offer.

“He’s got a lot to gain from this type of experience. It’ll put him on a whole new path, with a whole new skill set and a whole new interpretation and outlook,” Hoffmeister said.

Shebib’s involvement motivated Hoffmeister to extend the climbing invitation to other wounded soldiers. Hoffmeister put the word out to organizations that help injured veterans, such as the Wounded Warrior Project.

“I got pummeled with people who wanted to climb. There were some amazing stories,” Hoffmeister said.

A self-described Type A personality, Hoffmeister first determined who was medically ready to climb. He then used a spreadsheet with factors like attitude and experience, each assigned a certain weight, to select the team.

Hoffmeister didn’t necessarily want people with voluminous tales of mountaineering feats; instead he wanted those who would benefit both internally and externally from the experience.

The climbing crew

Eventually Hoffmeister settled on a crew of six for this June’s climb on Alaska’s mammoth mountain. Aside from his wife and Shebib, the climbers live throughout the Lower 48.

* Jon Kuniholm is a graduate student at Duke University where he’s doing a thesis on advances in prosthetics.

While serving in Iraq as a Marine captain, his patrol unit was ambushed.

“The initial detonation of the IED severed his arm, and he basically picked it up and jumped back in the truck. A character,” Hoffmeister said.

* Matt Nyman is a soft-spoken individual who was wounded during a raid in Iraq. His helicopter went down and he was thrown through the rotor blades. The blades severed one leg and badly damaged the other; the accident also caused a collapsed lung.

Nyman was part of a climbing team with the U.S. Army Rangers in special operations command - one trained to climb buildings instead mountains.

“The training he’s been through in the military is a testament to his mental fortitude and his ability just to endure discomfort,” Hoffmeister said.

* Early on Hoffmeister also got close friend and fellow adventurer racer, Bob Haines, to join the crew. Haines retired from the Army as a noncommissioned officer and currently works as a firefighter in Colorado.

“I know he feels funny because I’ve pulled him on this team and he’s not wounded,” Hoffmeister said. “But at the same time I’ve got four wounded guys, and every one of us has various issues that need to be compensated for within the team, having a strong back is a pretty significant value to me, and having a clear mind is even more valuable.”

Mentally tough

The climbing team met for the first time last July to take a mountaineering course on the Pika Glacier in Denali National Park. Not only was it a chance for them to get to know one another, it was also an opportunity to work out the logistics.

Nyman found out he needs to carry a pole with a pick on it, rather than an ice axe, because of the difficulty he has bending over for long periods of time. He’ll also take a massive pullover boot to compensate for the weak blood flow in his left leg.

Hoffmeister hopes to use a boot that doesn’t require him to tie the laces.

And Kuniholm is modifying a prosthetic arm for himself that will withstand his body weight, hold up in the cold and allow him to use an ascender device.

For the injured men, frostbite is a concern because of its potentially serious repercussions. But of even more concern is the group’s slow pace, and therefore increased exposure time. When you’re using one hand or climbing without full use of both feet, everything just takes longer, Hoffmeister said.

While physical limitations and the weather may hamper a Denali ascent, Hoffmeister has no concerns about the team’s mental toughness.

“Training for war, going to war, being injured, mentally they’re all fine,” he said.

Obstacles ahead

For the latter, the Military Order of the Purple Heart, a veterans organization, donated $25,000, and steady stream of smaller contributions are coming in, but the team is still short about $20,000. The estimated cost of the climb is slightly more than $70,000, or about $12,000 per climber. This number includes the mountaineering course, airfare and special equipment.

To train the climbers spend every spare moment outside hiking, biking, skiing or practicing crevasse rescue.

On a recent Sunday, the Hoffmeisters, along with Shebib and family friend Bernadette Martel headed up Mount Eklutna. The day prior they biked in the Frosty Bottom race in Anchorage - Gayle won the women’s division of the 25-mile race.

Although tired, they moved over the wind, sun and rain-battered snow pack with confidence - sometimes wearing crampons, sometimes walking in snowshoes and sometimes just hiking in their boots.

Hoffmeister’s limited ability to use his left hand showed in ever-so-subtle ways. He casually asked Gayle to undo the zipper below his right armpit and he used his teeth to get the map carrier open.

Similarly, Hoffmeister’s matter-of-fact attitude toward wartime realities subtly came out.

Standing on a rocky ridge, Hoffmeister yelled down a question to Shebib who was a couple hundred feet below. When he didn’t receive a response, Hoffmeister nonchalantly commented:

“It’s hard when we’re all half-deaf from bombs.”

Hoffmeister hopes that Operation Denali will inspire other wounded soldiers - and potential funders - to do similar expeditions.

“You don’t have to let your injuries define you, you define them,” he said.