One of the most profound moments of my life was 25 years ago, after a 5 day trek, hiking down into the Kali Gandaki Gorge in Nepal, the sun setting creating an eternal glow on the world surrounding me.
It was a long day, coming down from 9000 feet. There was fear and the vast darkness of the night began to envelop me ... yet there was this lightness of being, this profound sense of being, that I was moving towards ...

... As i descended, there was the incredible heavenly presence of Mount Macchapucchre (The Fishtail Mountain) glowing at the far end of the gorge -- never knowing if I would get there, but seeing it in the distance was enough for my soul....

All my energy could go into complaining & resisting -- or it could go into living.

Not all who wander are lost....

Yet at times I may not quite know the way...

Happy Birthday Greg


(1987 - pre-HIV))

Life is linear, yes?
50 years old
20 years since learning I was HIV+
30 years since hiking alone on the Appalachian Trail
40 years as a 10 year old- when i first felt the emptiness of the eternal ...


(2008)
(1998)
(1988)

("1978")

("1968")
("1959")

The things I remember from Ecuador, the times of being in the present, where I felt the deepness of being, things that I bring back that confirm and strengthen my present:

Sitting on the top of the tower on the Vota Basilica, seeing the valley of Quito spread out before me as a thunderstorm moves in with its rumble and lightening flashes. Being in the moment, as the rain pours against the basilica, and through the cracks in the towers -- dripping, dripping.

and we wait,
there, in the moment, as it rains.


In Banos -- sitting in the pools of the hot baths before sunrise -- the waterfall trickling down from the mountain, the quiet spaces of the pools -- feeling my toes, legs, and body in the warmth...

or the night before, above the pools, as the waterfall tumbles around me, a perfect sunset -- realizing - forever is now & only now

maybe i should post before i go.

Leaving for Ecuador next week. It's been a bit stressful thinking about the trip. Mainly because I have to know and plan everything. But, once I get there, I'm sure acceptance will set in.

Unfortunately, this is the rainy season in and around Quito, and this year, apparently due to El Nino they are having much more than usual. I have been communicating with one climb operator in particular, but there is no resolution yet, so I will be checking in with him and others when I get there. Me being me, I don't want to waste my money on something that does not have a reasonable chance of succeeding.

I'm doing my best to change my perspective and expectations, going with an open mind to what ever this trip my offer. Even boredom? Well, that would be my own damn fault, wouldn't it.

always before a trip like this, there is foreboding.

But I will come back, and then go on to the next thing.

We've had a few good days here, as the weather changes. Was hoping to get out to the Gorge one more time, but doesn't look like it's going to happen. Being an Oregonian now, you'd think I'd finally learn to enjoy hiking in the rain and drizzle.

Robby and I did get out to Angel's Rest last Sunday. Nice day. Always like getting up to this view -- giving me a chance at perspective and peace....

sometimes i go down to the water edge
and try to peer into the deep mysteries

more often, I just look into my own reflection

A perfect New Year's day cross country skiing at Trilium Lake with Robby, Robin & Elliot.

I found this guy on youtube, BradinTampa. Liked the simplicity of his rendition. I cried once or twice when listening to it. I couldn't help remembering the night when I first learned of my HIV status, sitting on the couch with my sister holding me.

BTW -- Happy Holidays....

Hi --
As usual, when life becomes more predictable, I fall away, and have no reason to communicate.
OK -- Still undetectable after one year. Whee. The only sour note in this is that my t-cell count seems to be stuck at about 250, and worse yet, my CD4 percentage is about 9%. But, can I complain. Haven't been sick. The worse I can say is that at times I am tired. Can I blame it on AIDS, or just the usual Oregon winter? Just wanting to sleep.

Catching up.
Had an eventful summer. Tried a couple of climbs with the Mazama's (the climbing club in Oregon). I tried Mt. Hood in May on my own, got up to the Hogsback by about 7am. Beautiful day -- but it was the weekend, and so many people trying to make it up the pearly gates, that I decided as a solo climber not to compete with all the groups there. My legs were also giving out -- and on the way developed excruciating tendentious. At home that night -- could hardly walk. But, by the next day, feeling better, and several days later, recovered, so decided to do it again, this time with the Mazamas.
It was a nice group, a collection of newbies and oldbies, and then people like myself -- but the weather was pretty hairy. Freezing rain, followed by sleet, then snow -- and by the time we got up above the Palmer Snowlifts at 7000 feet, the winds were kicking up pretty good, and visibility was down. Several people turned around, as the leader, Dan Shuster, decided to go on ahead. I fell behind the others, but finally made it up again to the Hogsback. It seems that this week I would have thought I was on a completely different mountain.
And as soon as I joined the rest of the group of 8 or so, the wind really kicked up, with gust of about 75mph. Our only choice was to hunker down to keep from being blown around, and to try to keep warm. People were shivering. I was ok, except for my hands, which were freezing -- better gloves next time. Dan felt that on the summit there could be 100mph gust, so an attempt was not a good idea. We found a break in the gust and headed down. Though it was an aborted attempt, and I wish I had was stronger, I enjoyed the comradery of the group.

I didn't make any climbs in June. Ended up this was a bust of a year for climbing. The weather was not cooperating, and many groups had to abort their efforts. I had wanted to head to Mt. Adams before leaving for Australia, but a busted head gasket on my truck prevented that, although Robby, Robin, and I did hike up to 10,000 feet on Rainier on July 4, Robby's 50th birthday.


After a busy month in Australia for the International AIDS Society conference, and then some traveling, as well as Scuba diving, made it back in mid- August, when I took my Dr., Diana, her husband, Mark, and Marti, the RN at the clinic up Mt. St. Helens. I enjoyed the climb (my 5th?) up to the rim. Each time it seems easier for me, but I could appreciate their struggle, for this was their first mountain. (Marti had climbed Mt. Hood as a teenager). I could hear them swearing on the way up, but by the time we were back down, they were hooked, and we've been talking about an Adams trip next summer.

I didn't take any pictures, but did do this video. Not too great, but it'll tell you something about the trip.



Finally, the week after the Mt. St. Helens Climb, went on a final climb for the summer -- my nemesis, North Sister. Again, this was a Mazama climb, with a extra full contingent of 12 people. I found out that Ken Bueller from last year was going, so felt his support in making another attempt after the previous summers fiasco on North Sister. But this summer was not meant to be. The leader, although very likable and competent, had never tried this particular route so late in the year, and we floundered on the rock and scree, and ended up decided by late morning that any feasible way up onto the saddle would be much too dangerous with such a large group. Although I had kept up well with the group, I was one of those voting to come back down, realizing that even a successful attempt would probably mean not getting back to our vehicles until midnight.
Next year? Maybe try to again. I'm mostly concerned about my knees. Been trying various training to try to strengthen the tendons, etc. I will continue climbing as long as they let me.





Listen to this article

Long time.
Funny, when you have hope, other things seems to be a priority.
Went to the Conference on Retroviruses in LA last month -- doing the usual interviews on HIV AIDS issues. We also did a webcast to several sites across the nation, which I guess went ok.
At one of the get-togethers one evening for many of the national activist - members of the AIDS Treatment Activist coalition, I went in the door, and immediately saw this distinguished black guy who looked familiar. As soon as he saw me, he let out a yell. It ended up being Morris Jackson, who I knew from my time with the Palmetto AIDS lifesupport Services when he and I were both volunteers as a pal to people with AIDS. I hadn't seen him in at least 14 years. We could only both exclaim, I thought you were dead! He had moved to LA about 2 years ago, and gotten involved in national issues. It was good reminiscing.


Went to see Dr. A the week I got back. Still undetectable.

So... I said if I was undetectable, could go to Australia for a couple of AIDS conferences, and then see the country. This summer.




Listen to this article

On the new treatment of the Merck Integrase Inhibitor (in expanded access) along with Truvada, Presista and Fuzeon. Did become undetectable after the first month. I'm not celebrating yet. Wait and see if it holds. I was happy to see that my cd4 count went up to 333, and my lymph nodes are the smallest they've been in 20 years. Hopeful, but still....

I do have a certain sadness. If I am undetectable, what does that mean, and who will I be.
And I think of the people who have died over the past year, especially Bruce Bills, and Peter Englehart, Bob Terry, Ross Hamilton, etc., who may have been saved by the new Integrase along with Presista. But time ran out for them.

For now, just dealing with the side affects, primarily of Fuzeon. Again, the achy, flu-like symptoms.

Roberta Dahle, Production Assistant

Suppose to discuss the negative thoughts that run into my head...again something from this possitive living course thingy.
Yea, yea --- I know the concept....
Become aware of your negative thoughts, and then change them into positive ones.

The negative thoughts I've been going through for the past couple of days since finding out on Wednesday that my test for Fuzeon resistence has come back showing that -- yes indeedy, I probably am resistent to Fuzeon.

So -- my thoughts are of just giving up, what's the use. I think alot of it has to do with the initial disappointment and feelings of loss. The loss I feel is that of the final hope I had that I could somehow find myself a viable treatment, become undetectable, and be able to look forward to the next 5-10 years of life, being reasonably healthy. Now I realize that the struggle will continue to be from month to month. So much of my life, and my defiance of my illness has been around being physically fit. Now, can I live with AIDS while having to deal with constant fatigue and limitations. Will I climb other mountains?
Somehow, trying to just turn it all into negative thoughts just doesn't work for me.

I know from all my research about the drugs coming up what the limitations of my life will now be. I'm dealing with the immediate real loss that has happened to me -- and it's important for me to be with that loss honestly and realistically -- to embrace it and hold it, and to include it as part of who I am now, like it or not.
I've always dealt with my illness head on, holding back no punches.
That is how I survive.

Been thinking alot lately about some of the statements I heard Barak Obama make recently on TV.

Our culture values and rewards things like beauty, wealth, celebrity, cleverness. Why can't we equally value being useful?

Only a very few can be famous, but everyone can be great. (MLK)

Last day of my commitment.

I thought I had long ago left behind meaningless things that you only did because you had to.

Again, today we will meet, and again we will have to decide what next weeks goals will be. Last week, a couple of guys talked about working out, another quit smoking, etc. What am I suppose to do?

If there is something more I can do to help me in my fight against AIDS, please tell me, and I will do it.
The only peace I know is in knowing that I've done all I can do, and then make the best of my life as it is.

Going up to McNeil Point will hopefully sustain me for the long Oregon winter. Always having to guard myself against depression which may set in this time of year -- although I never went off the anti-depressant, which I usually do in summer, so maybe this Fall will be better.
Maybe being part of the Health Management Group will help also.

Yesterday, saw Dr. A. Left me a bit depressed most of the day -- maybe because the rains set in on Sunday -- and everyone seems to be a little down now. I was her first patient -- and I asked her what direction I should head. Her response was that did it matter what she thought, since I'd do whatever I liked anyways. She didn't say it attackingly, and obviously something else was going on. OK -- so it turns out she now has 3 teenagers in the house, and I think she was probably saying it more to her 17 year old son, than me.
We're still waiting for the result of my Fuzeon Resistance test to come back -- probably this week. She also said she would present my case to the weekly doctor's meeting they have on Thursday.
We talked about whether to go on TMC-125, or MK-0518. Dr. A didn't feel there wasn't much of a different, especially since the merck drug is so new and may have unknown problems. But my research suggest otherwise. I already have 4 NNRTI mutations, and studies show that for people with that many mutations, there is only a .52 log drop in virus, as opposed to someone without any mutations achieving a 1.6 log drop. That is quite a difference.
Also, found out from Dr. A. that there were only 1000 or so slots available for MK-0518 in expanded access, and if I waited until Kaiser was approved as an expanded access site in January, they would probably all be gone by then. It was recommended that I go ahead and call the other site in town, The Research and Education Group, and get on their list. So, when I go home, I called them, and talked to Toni, and she put me as number 4 on their list.
Now, my concern is that I may have to make a decision to go ahead and take the Intergrase, even if my viral load (which is now 27,000) and t-cells (260) stay stable, when I would prefer and wait until a decline.
Decisions.
I think of the mountain.