Prizeonion

My installation of the Canon camera tools got severly messed up when I installed a new version of the software (Camera Window and ZoomBrowser) on top of an old version. I think the problem arose because I installed both versions from different user accounts. (I have a multi-user Windows XP setup, which some software wasn’t written to cope with.)

Anyway - the symptoms are that after you plug in the camera, Windows recognizes it, but the download window doesn’t show up. For one user, it works, for the other it doesn’t. The weird thing is that I could watch the process list and see the app (CameraWindow.exe) start, but then quit without showing any error message.

After much mucking about, I tracked it down to the permissions on the registry keys. One user had permission to modify the keys, the other didn’t, so the application quietly failed. I couldn’t even re-install the app, as I didn’t have permissions to write to the HKLM\Software\Canon key.

To fix it, I uninstalled as much as I could, switched users to find who had permission to alter the registry key, deleted it, then reinstalled the software. I actually reinstalled (the same version) for all users this time, but probably could have just modified the permissions on the registry keys for all users to have access.

Last weekend, a gang of OpenStreetMappers descended upon Bath in the UK. I went along, to lend a hand, armed with my trusty Geko and a bike. I had already made an attempt at mapping the town ccentre, but not much outside the old city walls was done.

My first day’s results can be seen here, the second day’s work here, and all the raw data from the weekend from all the people involved is shown here. For only two day’s surveying, I think the amount of coverage is pretty impressive. That’s only the raw data though. Now lines need to be drawn on top, using vectors, then those vectors combined to make streets and the attibutes, tags, added, such as names, size and restrictions.

The trail up to Ingalls lake takes you over dry hills, through sparse clumps of larches to a beautiful and open alpine lake.

This hike provided a perfect compliment to the previous one in the Olympics. Whilst the Olympic national park is a temperate rainforest, Ingalls lake lies on the east side of the Cascades, in a rain shadow. The ground was dusty and the trees stunted and sparse.

The drive from Seattle was long but through interesting scenery and the novelty of farmland. At 10:30 am we hit the trail and after a couple of miles we were out of the forest and getting views of the red and grey rock-strewn hills around us. The plants here were very different from those in the Olympics, and there were barely any huckleberries.

Just before we reached the highest point of the walk, Rainier emerged from behind the nearest mountain to the south. It was a perfectly clear day and we could see the glacier-topped giant very clearly. To the west, far more distant, but still clearly visible, was its brother, Mount Hood.

From the high point in a saddle the trail contours roughly around the basin below. It was easily visible and we could see where lake Ingalls was probably hiding. The view across the glacial valley to Mount Stuart was impressive, but the views closer to us were equally good; [scored orange-red rocks][scratched rock] dotted with yellowing larches. There is a campground here, a superb isolated location, but it would certainly be cold. There was frost in the shade even though it was early afternoon.

On the way around the basin we encountered a couple of marmots, which didn’t seem bothered by our clumping boots and got too close to get completely in shot

The last leg of the walk turned into more of a scramble up over to the edge of the lake. It was a stunning view: Ingalls peak to the left of us, orange, streaked with grey and to the right, reflected in the blue waters of the lake, were the crumbling peaks of Mount Stuart.

We lunched here in the silence and sun, ducked below the cold wind. The view looked familiar, on checking the guide book, I found out why: it was on the cover.

The return journey, back out the same way we came in, passed quickly. We saw the marmots again - passed the autumn larches and went back over the saddle for more views of Rainier. We arrived back at the car at about 4:30pm and headed back to the city in search of food.

This was a long one; 18.8 miles in one day with over 4500ft of climbing. We met people on the way round taking three days over this loop. “I hope you boys have got a flashlight.”

It was a long day: 16 hours from downtown Seattle until our return. There was no earlier ferry we could have caught. The trailhead is some 40 miles west of Port Angeles on the Olympic Peninsula, about two and a half hour’s drive from the ferry terminal in Bainbridge. We were on the trail, at about 9:30am, in the cold morning air. It felt like autumn was coming.

The trail emerges from the trees surprisingly quickly, so we had views from pretty early on, which made the climb far more bearable. The weather was superb, blue skys with a few wispy clouds above, but not too hot.

After a brief respite in a beautiful flat area full of ponds and ripe huckleberries the climb continued. We soon crossed over the ridge to views over the west side of the Olympic range, out to the Pacific.

We lunched atop Bogachiel Peak, which gave us views all around, over the Seven Lakes Basin to the North and South to the snow-covered summit of Mount Olympus.

The High Divide was a strange section; one side of the slope was south-facing an covered in tall pines, whilst the north side was open, covered with only grass and the odd stubborn and weathered tree. It’s a very pleasant section of the walk, being mercifully level and with views across the valley of the impressive glacier crawling down from Olympus. We soon spotted Heart Lake, but from our point of view, the heart shape was upside down. After dropping down from the High divide we soon entered thick forest and the rest of the walk was of close-up views of trees and undergrowth. There were plenty of varied fungi about in the damp autumn air. By the time we got back to the car, the light was fading.

It was a bit of a slog, especially towards the end, but absolutely worth the effort. You can do it one day, so do.

See all the pictures here.

The labour day holiday provided the opportunity to do two hikes in one weekend and still get a rest day. Monday was walk two, this time in the Olympics. There were two possible hikes we had our eye on, but we had to settle for the shorter one due to not arriving at Port Angeles until 10am. The longer walk was another 50 plus miles down the road. It would have been dark before we got off the hills.

The trailhead for the loop we settled on is cheekily just outside the national park. The turnoff is literally within a stone’s throw of the pay station.

The start of the walk is on an old logging road at a ‘gentle gradient’ which soon raised the heart rate. It was at least an hour’s slog before we broke tree cover for a view into the thick of the clouds which were stubbornly clinging to the mountain tops. We met two seasoned hikers on the way up who both commented, with some surprise, when we told them we were doing the loop that “That’s a long hike fellas.” We had been warned.

After zig-zagging through alpine meadows and patches of trees, we chose a spot for first lunch near Heather Park in a saddle on the ridge we were going to follow. The clouds parted briefly to reveal a snow-clad Mount Olympus in the distance. Beautiful, and worth the climb.

Here we faced a decision. The book and its map showed a trail up through the peaks to the south-east. The only obvious trail was down and west, then contouring below the peaks. Add this to the fact that we weren’t entirely sure where we were, due to a possible branch in the trail some half a mile back down the hill. The GPS was useless; whilst it gave an accurate indication of our position, the map we had was devoid of grid markings. We plumped for the obvious trail.

The next section of the trek was a slog. After dropping a few hundred feet down gravel we countoured (roughly) below the crumbling peaks for a while before we had to re-gain the height to a saddle. From there it was another disheartening drop down into cloud to traverse another scree slope, then climbing back up to 6000 feet to another saddle. This was the only busy part of the trail due to the proximity of the Hurricane Road trailhead. There was still a mountain goat on the ridge though. A pleasant surprise and impressively big and furry.

The walk out was quick. No-one fancied being in the forest as it got dark. Lake Angeles proved to be a worthwhile (and minor) detour. It was flat as a mill pond, so reflected the surrounding mountains impressively.

Easily the most spectacular hike so far, even without the views. Worth the effort.