Longs Peak-A Photographic Odyssey

Hi guys! For those of you who want to see more fantastic Longs Peak photos, I've posted them on Google+. Sorry about not putting them on my site... Blogger is angering me right now. But you can still see them by clicking the link below.

Longs Peak--A Photographic Odyssey

Click the little arrows on either side of the screen to advance the photos. If you really like a photo, you can +1 it in the lower right hand corner. Enjoy!

Inside the Great Pyramid of Giza-literally!

I scrape my head on the low roof as I enter, dropping my tiny flashlight. “Ow,” I mumble, annoyed. I search the ground for my flashlight As soon as I find it, I continue on.

               The grey, rocky tunnel continues for what seem like miles. As I climb further, I brace my hands against the rough hewn walls, carved thousands of years ago. Tiny wooden boards are placed on the floor so that you don’t slip. With the angle of the tunnel, a slip like that could mean death. I slowly make my way further downward, every step bringing me deeper into history. The path is lit by dim, flickering lights. I can only see a few feet in front of me. The walls of the tunnel are moist and slippery, as if they are wet. Or that could just be my palms.

               Ahead of me, the downward slope of the tunnel ends, and I can’t see what lies beyond. The tunnel is narrow here, enough to repel anyone with even the slightest claustrophobia. I make my way closer to the yawning opening. As I pass through, I gasp in awe. “The Grand Gallery,” I whisper.

               I am inside the Great Pyramid of Giza, built 4,500 years ago for the pharaoh. As king of Egypt, the pharaoh was placed to rest in these very tunnels. He was then supposed to be sealed off for the rest of eternity. He probably didn’t think that tourists would find their way inside.

               I turn on my flashlight and shine it at the farthest corners of the Gallery. Here, the tunnel gets much wider and slopes upward. The walls, formerly rough, are now as smooth as glass. They meet at the top of the hall to form a pyramid shape, 20 feet above our heads. The whole room is grandiose, fit for the Pharaoh. “Wow,” I say to myself.

               I start to climb higher, toward the Pharaoh’s burial chamber. I get ever more excited the closer I get. Everything looks just like I had imagined it. I search the left side of the Gallery for the secret passage discovered by archaeologists, but am unable to find it. I run my fingers along the stone benches that line the walls. I can see the end of the Gallery. Pretty soon, I am gripping the railing and heaving myself over the large stone slab that marks the end of the Gallery.

               The Pharaoh’s Chamber! It is a tall, boxy room with a low ceiling. A small fan putters away in the corner. Electrical lights flicker and hum noisily. Not quite the vision of grandeur that the name suggests! But I don’t care. I love the room anyway. This was where the pharaoh was buried! That’s what makes this place worth seeing.

               I begin to investigate the room with my tiny circle of light. Soon, I discover the small openings in the walls that have been termed the “air shafts” by archaeologists. They go all the way to the exterior of the pyramid, and may have served a religious purpose.  I also see the huge, broken sarcophagus that lies at the center of the room. I walk over to it. It is completely empty, and one corner is snapped off. Was this where the pharaoh was placed? Maybe.

               I enjoy the room of the Pharaoh for a few more minutes, all too aware that my time here is growing short. No, my time here is out. Taking one last look at the sarcophagus, I reluctantly turn and leave the chamber. Down through the Gallery I go. Down through the little opening in the wall. Back up through the Tunnel. Finally, I step out into the warm light of the Egyptian sun, out of the magic of the pyramid, and back into the real world.  

              

Sorry

Sorry for not posting this week guys. I've been pretty busy lately, and haven't had a chance to write any new material. Hope to be getting back to posting this Wednesday!

Heart of Jerusalem-The Markets



The markets are really the beating, pulsing heart of Jerusalem. They are places where you can really take a few hours and lose yourself in the culture. If you’re willing to push through the crowds, and be harassed by a few vendors, you just might end up with a lifelong memory.

 

               I love to wander the backstreets of Jerusalem. At first, I wasn’t too excited about going down alleys when there were so many great historical sights nearby. But eventually, I realized that this was a great way to experience Middle Eastern Culture. This is where the real people of Jerusalem live, not just those people that put on a smile every day for tourists. Whether they’re bartering for rugs or buying a video game (yep, they have those too), the markets are the center of daily life in Jerusalem.

 

 

               My favorite part of the any market is the spice shop. The first time I walked into a spice shop, I was amazed. They only sell spices! There were hundreds of varieties. And I had spent my time thinking that spices came in a little red bottle labeled Tabasco! I quite enjoyed wandering my way through the pyramids of oregano, cinnamon, and red peppers, and taking in the rich aroma. And the color! There is an explosion of color such as you have never seen in your life! Reds, yellows, and greens abound everywhere you look.

 

 

               Another great experience I had in the markets was stopping at a local restaurant. But not just any restaurant—a pizza place! Another thing that you wouldn’t expect in the Middle East. Probably not a good idea (because we might have gotten horribly sick), but it ended up okay. It actually wasn’t bad pizza.

 

 

 

That’s why I enjoy the markets of Jerusalem. Here are a few more market pictures.

 

 

Strawberry fields, forever

 

Pork on a hook, anyone?

 A spice Mount, crowned by its own miniature Dome of the Rock

 

 Shops close up like lockers at night

 

Getting your greens

 

Who doesn't like corn on the cob?

              

The Treasury, Petra

The canyon walls press in on me like a vice. As I walk deeper into the dark and narrow corridor, I can see less and less sky. It gets darker a I wind my way further along the twisting path. I break into a run. The light gets brighter and brighter. At last, the dark canyon opens up, and I see it. “The Treasury,” I say breathlessly.  It was magnificent.

A few minutes later, we are seated at a table with our guide. He is no stranger to tourists, and he has positioned himself deliberately so that we can gaze at the Treasury over his head. “We are in Petra, the ancient capital of the Nabateans,” he says, even though we aren’t paying attention. “It is one of the most famous sites in Jordan.” We could tell, because the Treasury was mobbed with tourists. Other historical sites in Jordan could be practically empty, with just you and the wind. But I’m not thinking about any of this. I’m just gawking at the Treasury.

               The Treasury is carved into the side of a cliff. Light dances along its face like leaves rustling in the wind. The multicolored stone almost makes it blend in with the rock around.  It looks like a palace, even though it is merely a box on the inside.

               Camels are arrayed out in front of the Treasury, waiting to give eager tourists a ride. The sight of them in front the Treasury makes this place all the more Middle Eastern.

It is quite an amazing experience to see the Treasury for the first time. The ancients deliberately positioned it at the end of the Siq, a long canyon, to look even more impressive. After you come out of the winding, narrow, chasm, and see the Treasury in all of its glory, it looks almost magical.

               We get up and walk over to the Treasury. I want to go inside, but it is blocked off by fence. “Archaeological work by my former colleagues,” explains our guide, as if anticipating my question. I walk up to the fence and take a look beyond.

               On the other side of the fence, there is a pit that is around 10 feet deep. At the bottom is what looks like doors. “They could be part of the Treasury!” I say to myself, excitedly. Perhaps it is even bigger than it looks.

               I think through what I know about its history. No one knows why it was built, with the main theories being either a temple or a tomb.  It is, however, agreed that the Treasury is not a treasury. That name comes from the Bedouin mythology about the site, which states that it was where the pharaoh hid his wealth. Tiny bullet holes pock-mark the Treasury’s façade where locals tried to shoot it open and access its wealth.

               It also appeared in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. If you can all recall, this was where Indiana Jones rode at the end of the movie in search of the Holy Grail. There, he was met by challenges to protect it, and finally confronted an old knight. In real life, though, it is just a box on the inside (I know, I’m disappointed too). But the movie was filmed here, and that gives Petra at least some credit.

 

               Finally, it is time to go. I am sad to leave the Treasury, but I know that I still have all of Petra ahead of me. As I turn a corner, I take one last look at the Treasury. Then it is gone.