ASJA PACIFIC NORTHWEST NEWSLETTER
For ASJA members in
Alaska, British Columbia, Idaho, Oregon and Washington
October 2024
https://asjapnw.org
In This Issue
From the Prez, The Writer as Activist, M. Carolyn Miller, ASJA PNW President
The Manitou Incline: An Intrepid Hiker Learns a New Best Move, Joanna Nesbit
Working at the Campsite, Bruce Miller
Member News and Announcements
Our October chapter meeting at 11 am:
Liz Smith on Social Media Marketing
M. Carolyn Miller is inviting you to a scheduled Zoom meeting.
Topic: Social Media Marketing
Time: Wednesday, October 16, 2024 11:00 AM Pacific Time (US and Canada)
https://us02web.zoom.us/j/87898612924
Meeting ID: 878 9861 2924
Liz’s expertise is social media marketing. Bizzy Lizzie Social Media Marketing She’ll talk to us about the different platforms, including Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, TikTok, and others, what they are, who they’re for, and how to create organic, engaging content for each with examples.
“I’ve always had a love of storytelling, writing, and learning how things work. After graduating from Miami University with a degree in English Literature, Creative Writing and French Literature, I spent the first 20 years of my career in fashion merchandising and product development. I traveled all over the world and managed big teams, and loved being a part of the creative process as well as managing the business end. When I decided to peruse a new career, I knew I wanted it to include writing and visual marketing, to support small businesses and nonprofits. I started my company Bizzy Lizzie in San Francisco in 2013, combining my skills in social media management and creation, and copywriting. I have had clients in many sectors and value each relationship and learning experience. I also coach individuals and companies in social media best practices, which is extremely rewarding! “
This newsletter publishes the first day of each month and welcomes article submissions and photos. Please email the ASJA PNW Newsletter Editor, Maxine Cass, at maxinecass@gmail.com .
From the President
by M. Carolyn Miller
ASJA PNW Chapter President
The Writer as Activist
I recently completed a client article on private equity and its emergence, along with corporate consolidation, in the veterinary medicine industry. (The client I write for is a veterinary medicine association, and I pitched the idea after reading Plunder: Private Equity’s Plan to Pillage America by Brendan Ballou.)
What I learned disturbed me. I’d heard about private equity but, like most people, never really understood it. After reading Carrie Sun’s memoir, Private Equity, I had a sense that darker forces were at play. In researching this article, I understood why.
Private equity firms enter industries with vulnerable populations and access to capital, such as nursing homes and prisons, noted Ballou. They are also, increasingly, entering healthcare and veterinary medicine. Prices go up. Services go down. Human interests and the environment are not priorities.
Harvard professor, activist and co-founder of Yes! Magazine, David Korten, explained their strategy, what he called “corporate cannibalism,” in When Corporations Rule the World. A large, profit-motivated firm goes after a “weaker player” in the market who, up until now, was motivated by profits and human and environmental interests. The larger firm offers the smaller one a deal it can’t refuse. And so the smaller enterprise sells out.
Traditionally, government acted as a watchdog but increasingly, government officials are in bed with private equity firms, noted Ballou. And so, the guardrails are disappearing.
When I read books like these, I often get upset with the author who doesn’t share what the individual reader who is not a policy maker can do. But both Ballou, a federal prosecutor, and Korten offer a path forward, especially for writers: to be activists.
Indeed, activism may be the antidote for our angst during these troubled times. Psychologist James Hillman would have agreed. (He said as much in We’ve Had a Hundred Years of Psychotherapy: And the World’s Getting Worse.) Attach yourself to something greater and your personal angst transforms into a larger mission.
M. Carolyn Miller, MA, spent her career designing narrative- and game-based learning. Today, she consults and writes about narrative in our lives and world, the inextricable link between the two, and the critical role of self-awareness in transforming both. www.cultureshape.com
Acorn woodpecker (Melanerpes formicivorus) with (Garry) white oak acorn, Gold Hill, Oregon © Maxine Cass
Story and photos by Joanna Nesbit
The Manitou Incline: An Intrepid Hiker Learns a New Best Move
In June, I took a trip to Denver to visit my 27-year-old daughter and her boyfriend who were living there for her summer job working at the Denver Botanic Garden. Part of the trip included visiting her undergrad college in Colorado Springs, where we decided to try the notorious Manitou Incline in nearby Manitou Springs.
Joanna and her daughter, Leah, pre-climb.
I love a good challenge, so I was totally onboard. If you haven’t heard of it, the Manitou Incline is a popular tourist adventure similar to the Grouse Grind in Vancouver, BC. With its starting point at 6,530 feet (1,990 meters), the Incline is comprised of 2,744 railroad tie stairs heading straight up a hillside to a summit of 8,550 feet (2,606 meters). That’s about 2,000 feet (609 meters) in under a mile. It looks deceptively easy from the bottom, but it’s rated extremely difficult—which I didn’t realize until afterward.
“The main warning was this sign. I didn’t see it until I came down the trail that went right past it.“
The Manitou Incline is 2,000 feet (609 meters) in under a mile.
Even if I’d known ahead, though, I’d have brushed off those words as not meant for me. I hike in the North Cascades frequently, and I slogged to 14,000 feet in Colorado in my later 50s. I love “advanced” hiking. How hard could it be?
The day promised to be hot, but we set off from the tiny visitor center at 10:00 am anyway, armed with plenty of water, long-sleeved sun shirts, brimmed hats, sunscreen, sunglasses, and snacks. We were more prepared than most and felt smart for it.
Heading up, one railroad tie at a time, I tucked in slightly behind my fitter and younger companions. It was hot already, but no matter. I knew how to pace myself.
Except, it actually was harder than I had expected. I could feel the elevation drag on me. “Let’s stop in the next shade patch,” I suggested. I didn’t love being the weak link in the group, but also, fine, I’m not proud. Luckily, though the stairs are in full sun, it’s easy to step off the trail to rest under trees. We stopped, drank some water, and watched others plod up the stairs past our spot. They were sweaty, audibly breathing and stone-faced. But, still, it would be worth it, right? Right?
We started up again. Markers on the stairs told us how many stairs we’d taken: 300, 500, then 700. The gap between me and the kids widened. The heat – or was it the elevation? – made me feel leaden.
Before we reached the #1300 railroad tie, where hikers can opt to take the second bailout trail back down, I started noting a tinge of lightheadedness and wondered what I might be setting myself up for. I’ve had heat exhaustion, and I know the signs. Was this that? We had afternoon plans to tour around Leah’s old college campus. I didn’t want to spend it in the back seat of the car feeling nauseous.
At the 1300th step, we stopped to rest in the shade again near a burly guy about my age who told us his wife had already bailed. I drank water, ate an energy bar and wrestled internally. Bail, don’t bail? It didn’t take long to decide.
“You know what, you guys? I think it’s smarter for me to go down and you two keep going.”
Leah and Teddy paused only a moment before agreeing. They seemed happy to charge on without me and headed up. I continued to sit, falling into an easy conversation with the burly man. Hikers plodded up the steps past our shady spot, sweat beaded on their faces. Some of them looked unwell and they were only halfway.
The bailout trail was an easy hike down to the small visitor’s center, and as I strode down, I felt no regret. Sitting in the small open-air visitor’s center, I read the explicit warnings about hiking unprepared and noticed the difficulty rating that I’d missed at the beginning.
When Leah and Teddy arrived, sweaty and chipper, unfazed by the heat (living in Tucson has its benefits), Leah greeted me enthusiastically. “Mom! You were SO smart to come down! The stairs got so much harder and steeper and some of them are two feet apart, and the people up there looked TERRIBLE and some of them didn’t have water. I can’t recommend this hike to any parent!”
Haha, I remember seeing those folks in the Grand Canyon when I was in my 20s and hiking to the bottom and back was no biggie—and thinking the exact same thing. Now I’m one of them. Except I stopped before I became one of them. No heat exhaustion for me.
Note to self: It’s okay to bail. Sick of that book? Ditch it. Too much volunteering on your plate? Say no. Bowing out at the right time isn’t really bowing out. It’s opening the door to the rest of what can be.
Joanna Nesbit is a content marketer and service journalist who covers higher education, personal finance, family, and aging. She lives in Bellingham with her husband and two cats. Her two young adults have flown the coop. Find her work at http://www.joannanesbit.com/ or https://joannanesbit.contently.com/ .
Black-tailed deer (Odocoileus hemionus), Gold Hill, Oregon. Photo © Maxine Cass
Story and photos by Bruce Miller
Working at the Campsite
Years ago, before Wi-Fi was in full force, I was able to work from the beach because of the early (and slow) data connections that were available (at $80 per month). One night at a party in Seattle I mentioned to a woman that I could work at the ocean beach. She asked: “Why would you want to work at the beach?” I said: “Why would I want to work in an office when I can work at the beach?”
Since those early days, faster data connections are available and I still like to get out of the office – or take the office with me.
To make this possible and more reliable, I’ve dipped into my experience as an Amateur Radio Operator (HAM). Aside from radios and antennae, an underlying requirement can’t be ignored: power. No power, no radio. No power, no Internet. No power, no computer. When I’m at a campsite these days, I often have four sources of power. In the picture below you will see these four sources:
1. Power hook up at the campsite – letter A
2. Portable power bank (more detail below) – letter C
3. Honda EU 1000 generator (more detail below) – letter D.
4. The car, which has integrated USB ports and an integrated inverter to provide 125 watts of AC power.
For the Internet, I have four sources on three carriers: T-Mobile, Verizon, AT&T, as seen in the picture:
E: T-Mobile Internet gateway with ethernet port. Runs on AC power and on 12 volts DC. The gateway shows is an Inseego FX2000.
H: Two portable W-Fi hotpots. The top one is Verizon, the bottom one is T-Mobile.
G: Cell phone on the AT&T network that can be used as a Wi-Fi hotspot.
Items B and F are not related to connectivity but can be useful.
B: Garbage sack hanging from a temporary line between trees for convenience and animal inaccessibility.
F: Electric cup warmer (25 watts), which can be turned on at night. Fill the cup with desired liquid, cover, and in the morning a hot drink is ready.
Item C in the picture was mentioned above. This is an EBL Power Station purchased from Amazon. I’m able to recharge my laptop computer 5-7 times. This station is handy when there is no AC power provided at the campsite and when the generator can’t be run during quiet hours. Link for the EBL Power Station on Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0CXP12X1W
The Honda EU 1000 generator provides up to 1000 watts of power. However, when devices are drawing substantially less than 1000 watts of power the generator’s Eco mode will let the generator scale down and run 6-7 hours when the 0.6-gallon tank is full. The Honda EU line of generators is well-known for their quiet operation compared to other generators. When the generator can be placed away from the campsite with long extension cords you barely hear it.
Hauling all this gear can seem daunting, but over time organization into various totes and containers makes setup and tear down a 20- to 30-minute activity.
When I’m in the car for whatever reason and want to watch a video or do some work on the tablet, I’ve created a simple holder for the steering wheel. I bought this cell phone neck holder from Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08S48MJH7
I removed the black foam for the neck. Then I took a hack saw and cut off the plastic holder. After bending the ends over the steering wheel to see how much length I really needed, I took the hack saw and cut the excess off the ends, leaving a two small hooks to go over the steering wheel. I then morphed the stiff wire into the right shape. The result is a very light-weight holder that works great.
Getting innovative for the campsite is part of the fun.
Seattle resident Bruce Miller was doing wireless Internet before Wi-Fi became available, using a 1xRTT data card in a computer’s PCMCIA slot. Now he does network consulting and helps people save money through SlashYourPhoneBill.com.
Member News and Announcements
M. Carolyn Miller recommends Willamette Writers. She has attended weekly brown bag sessions and was happily surprised by the number of young, published writers.
Joanna Nesbit (joannanesbit@comcast.net) is seeking ideas and contacts for future ASJA PNW meeting speakers.
NEWSLETTER PRODUCED BY
EDITOR: Maxine Cass
PROOFREADER: Fred Gebhart
TECHNICAL EXPERTISE: Bruce Miller
*All stories are copyright by their respective writers.
*All photographs and illustrations are copyright by their creative makers.
*All rights are reserved to each of them for their own material.