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Politics : Ask Michael Burke -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?


To: Knighty Tin who wrote (111659)2/23/2008 1:15:52 PM
From: longnshort  Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 132070
 
It's not new, the Imans have been telling their people this for decades. Look at Europe. What's the number one baby name in England ?



To: Knighty Tin who wrote (111659)2/24/2008 12:50:34 PM
From: Pogeu Mahone  Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 132070
 
You can kill yourself anytime of year on Washington if you do not know what you are doing. You drive up and park and within 30 minutes you can be in a life ending weather enviroment.
Storms push over the top of Washington that you cannot see coming.
We usually climb it in July and it can be 85 degrees at the bottom and 35 to 40 at the summit. Sometimes the clouds roll in and you can not see your own hand.

========================
Perilous rescues, at a price
N.H. seeks to recoup costs from 'negligent' adventurers
By David Abel, Globe Staff | February 24, 2008

NORTH CONWAY, N.H. - An hour after fielding the call last Saturday, the third of its kind in less than a month, Lieutenant Todd Bogardus stood at the edge of a steep trail, barking orders to gathering officers and volunteers in a race to save yet another hiker trapped in the White Mountains.

With winds howling at 40 miles per hour, the sun slipping over the horizon, and temperatures plummeting into the single digits, the leader of the state's rescue team traced the GPS signal from the victim's cellphone. He radioed the coordinates to the National Guard crew hovering nearby in a Black Hawk helicopter, which soon afterward spotted the hiker's headlamp in the high, fog-shrouded snowdrifts of the Pemigewasset Wilderness.

From 150 feet above, the crew in the helicopter lowered a cable carrying a crewman, who snatched up Benjamin Davis, 28, a Suffolk Law School student suffering frostbite. If it weren't for the rescue, he almost certainly would have died.

"I would say he was negligent," said Bogardus, coordi nator of the search and rescue team for the New Hampshire Fish and Game Department, which oversees rescue efforts in the White Mountains.

"His leather boots were inadequate for the hike, and he didn't follow the weather reports. Had he followed the weather, he wouldn't have put so many people in danger."

Since the beginning of the year, Bogardus's team has launched 11 missions to rescue lost, missing, or injured people, two of whom died and at least another four required medical attention after losing their way in the White Mountains.

Such missions, which state officials say are becoming more frequent and more expensive, have raised questions about the responsibilities of hikers who venture into the wilderness at the expense of public agencies. They have also sparked an effort by New Hampshire lawmakers to pass new legislation that would require more lost hikers to repay the state for rescuing them.

From 2004 to the end of 2007, the state spent more than $1 million and devoted about 14,900 hours to rescue 725 people, according to the New Hampshire Fish and Game Department. Of those victims, 28 percent were rescued in 2007.

Last fiscal year, the department spent more than $257,000 on rescue operations and for the first time ended the year with a deficit in its search and rescue account.

State officials and local mountaineers in part blame a growing class of novice adventurers, many of whom gain false confidence from new GPS devices, cellphones, and flashy gear from proliferating outdoor stores such as REI and Eastern Mountain Sports.

In recent years, Brad White, the director of the International Mountain Climbing School in North Conway, has received more and more calls from people in the mountains asking for help.

"People call and say, 'I think I'm lost," he said. "They have a GPS system, but they don't know how to use it to figure out the coordinates. Sometimes, when we send the calls to Fish and Game, they say they've figured out they're still on the trail. There are lots of calls these days from people who just want someone to come in and get them, but it just doesn't happen like that."

He and others who have helped rescue lost hikers tell stories of people venturing deep into the mountains without compasses or maps. They rely on GPS devices and cellphones, but then the batteries die. Last Monday, two Virginia men caught in a torrential rain storm and 5-foot-deep snow got lost when they followed their GPS the wrong way. It took rescuers two days to find Alex Obert, 30, and Steven McCay, 29, of Arlington, Va., who were on a 19-mile trek across the Presidential Range in the White Mountains. As the men tried to make their way out of the Dry River Wilderness on the south side of Mount Washington, a helicopter crew found their tracks in the snow.

In a phone interview at his home, Obert described himself and McCay as experienced hikers who had previously trekked in the area and had come prepared with GPS, two-way radios, avalanche beacons, cellphones, and topographical maps. He said they were victims of the extreme weather and had trouble following their GPS, because they kept losing the signal.

"We took everything seriously," Obert said. "But if people are found negligent, I think it's valid they pay the state back. But I don't feel we were negligent."

The New Hampshire House is considering a bill that would change the language of a 1999 state law that allows public agencies to recoup expenses from those who "recklessly or intentionally create a situation requiring an emergency response."

"People doing dumb things have to be held accountable," said Dennis Abbott, chairman of the New Hampshire House's Fish and Game Committee, which will vote on the bill in coming weeks. "They're not just putting themselves in harm's way. They're putting a lot of other people in harm's way, and there needs to be some responsibility."

The proposed new language, which Abbott expects will become law this spring, would lower the threshold for the public to compel repayment. The bill changes the language of the law from "recklessly" to "negligently" prompting an emergency response. For those who don't pay, the bill would allow the state to suspend the person's driver's license and other state licenses.

The difference, he and others said, is that "reckless" implies someone who becomes aware of a substantial risk and consciously disregards that risk; a "negligent" person is someone who fails to become aware of the risk that a reasonable person should have been aware of.

It is much harder to prove someone was reckless. For example, Bogardus and other officers said it would be much easier to make the case that Laurence Frederickson, 55, of South Sutton, N.H., and James Osborne, 36, of Manchester, N.H., were negligent when they set out on a 9-mile hike on Feb. 11 along the Franconia Ridge Loop without emergency gear, such as a protective bivouac to survive subzero nights and sudden whiteouts, despite a poor weather forecast. They eventually ran into a wall of snow, wind, and subzero temperatures, which left Frederickson dead and Osborne suffering hypothermia and severe frostbite. Like the other searches, the rescue cost the state thousands of dollars.

"They were certainly not fully prepared for an emergency situation, and when an emergency situation came about, they did not have adequate gear to help them survive," Bogardus said. "They failed in proper planning, in not assessing weather patterns."

Osborne, who was admitted to Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center in Lebanon, N.H., declined to comment. Frederickson's relatives could not be reached.

Over the past decade, the state has had little success in recovering costs from reckless hikers. Fifteen people or groups repaid the state $23,780, less than half what the state says it paid for their rescues, according to the New Hampshire Fish and Game Department.

Another approach, which has worked in the past, is what Rick Wilcox, the state's dean of mountaineering, calls "mandatory donations."

Over the last 30 years, Wilcox, president of Mountain Rescue Service and owner of International Mountain Equipment in North Conway, estimates he has helped organize about 450 rescue missions, including one effort in 1981 that ended with the death of a member of his rescue team. Since then, when he finds obvious negligence, he lets survivors know that donations to the Mountain Rescue Service, composed of about 50 volunteer mountaineers, should be in order.

"It's one thing to break a leg and need to be carried out, but if you ignore weather reports and go without night gear, that's stupidity, and in those cases, I think a mandatory donation is appropriate," he said.

Some mountaineers on the rescue team don't think the law should change.

They wonder where the negligence line would be drawn; would someone hiking in jeans or with old equipment be considered negligent?

"You can't keep hikers to a higher standard than people on the street," said Silas Rossi, a guide in the White Mountains who has helped rescue those whose plans went awry. "Accidents happen, no matter how prepared you are."

But state officials argue the expense, danger, and manpower needed for mountain rescues make them different from emergency situations in everyday life. As calls for mountain rescues have increased in recent years, they insist the law must change.

Among the supporters of the new bill is New Hampshire Army National Guard Staff Sergeant Matt Stohrer, who served on the last three helicopter rescue missions in the White Mountains.

Last Saturday, after the call came over the radio from Bogardus, he was lowered from the helicopter hovering over Benjamin Davis into 6 feet of snow and 80-mile-per-hour winds from the blades of the Guard's Black Hawk.

"I would describe these missions as more dangerous than getting shot at in Iraq," said Stohrer, who spent two years there.

On the ground, Stohrer detached himself from the cable and detonated a smoke grenade marking his position on the mountain with billows of red. He screamed over the roar, ordering Davis to walk through the snow toward him immediately.

Davis did not return repeated calls, and his mother declined to comment when reached at their home in Pennsylvania.

Stohrer said Davis struggled through the chest-deep snow in bare feet, because he had taken off his wet boots during the night in an attempt to dry them.

"They're putting all the rescuers' lives at risk," Stohrer said, "and I don't think that's right."

David Abel can be reached at dabel@globe.com.


© Copyright 2008 The New York Times Company



To: Knighty Tin who wrote (111659)2/24/2008 12:57:59 PM
From: Pogeu Mahone  Respond to of 132070
 
No Margin for Error
Despite its modest height—6,288 feet (1,917 meters)—Mount Washington is America's deadliest peak. And yet the killing cold and hurricane gusts that scour its summit and load its ravines with avalanche snow are far from New Hampshire state secrets. So why do otherwise smart, capable people keep losing their lives up there? By Laurence Gonzales


HIKER BEWARE: Signs on Mount Washington, like the one pictured here, don't beat around the bush. They warn—or is it boast?—of the "worst weather in America."


When Monroe Couper and Erik Lattey left Harvard Cabin on the morning of February 26, 1994, the weather was relatively mild for winter on Mount Washington. The temperature was in the teens and the wind gusts ranged from 40 to 60 miles (64 to 96 kilometers) an hour on the summit. The forecast called for the conditions to hold until nightfall, and since Couper and Lattey didn't plan to go to the summit, they weren't that concerned about it. They intended to hike up Huntington Ravine and climb a wall of frozen groundwater known as Pinnacle Gully. They planned to be back by dark. Traveling light, they left their packs at the cabin.

It's not known for certain, but it's likely that the two ice climbers from South Orange and Riverdale, New Jersey, had read the recent article in Climbing magazine about an ascent of Pinnacle Gully, a challenging intermediate climb. The exciting story of two teenagers who nearly died on a shield of rotten ice before rescuing themselves had attracted a lot of climbers to the route, but search and rescue (SAR) volunteers worried that it might encourage people to push beyond their abilities.

As Couper and Lattey were hiking up the broad and rugged trail, Alain Comeau, a local guide and team leader for the Mountain Rescue Service (MRS) in New Hampshire, was leading a group up another trail. When he saw fast-moving clouds on the horizon, he turned his group around. Bill Aughton, another member of the MRS, was also out guiding that day. He was so impressed with the clouds that he photographed them before directing his group back toward shelter.

Comeau had guided Couper and taught him ice climbing. "Couper wanted to learn to lead," Comeau recalls. "He wanted to move off on his own. A lot of people aspire to a climb like that. But Pinnacle was not the right next step. It's a serious climb in a serious environment. Technically he could have done it—maybe, on a good day in perfect conditions. But on a scale of one to five, Pinnacle's a three-plus."

As Couper and Lattey reached the base of the gully, they realized that in their rush they'd forgotten their climbing rope back at Harvard Cabin. It was noon by the time they'd picked up the rope and left the cabin again. Despite their limited experience, they might have easily calculated at this point that they no longer had enough time to make the climb and descend before sunset. (It takes one hour just to get from the cabin to the base of the climb.) They almost certainly could have seen that the weather had started to worsen. And even if they weren't convinced to turn back, they could have read the big yellow signs posted at trailheads. "Stop," they say. Then in smaller letters: "The area ahead has the worst weather in America." Not some of the worst, the worst. The notice continues unequivocally: "Many have died there from exposure, even in the summer. Turn back now if the weather is bad."

Couper and Lattey pressed on.

The mythology is that anyone can get up Mount Washington, if not to ski its steep ravines, then at least to stand on top and look around. At 6,288 feet (1,917 meters), it may not be high by Rocky Mountain standards, but it ranks as the highest peak in the Presidential Range, and each year scores of people hike the 4,000 vertical feet (1,219 meters) from the trailhead up to the top. (Others drive: An auto road snakes up the northern shoulder of the mountain and is open from May to October.)

But a gorgeous day on Mount Washington can turn bitter so fast that most people can't imagine it. They've never seen or felt anything like it, so they don't come armed with the true belief that one gets from direct experience. Like falling into icy water, the sudden cold shocks and numbs and defeats people before they have a chance to think clearly. The first person to climb Washington in winter conditions, in 1849, was also the first person to die there. Since then, 133 more people have lost their lives on the mountain, 24 of them in the past decade.( my note: some only 30 minutes from thier car)

Not long ago, I hiked up the Tuckerman Ravine Trail on the first beautiful warm day of spring to see some of the half million pilgrims who visit there each year. As I slogged up the steep, slippery slush in a dense forest of birch and pine richly floored with blowdown and ice storm damage, I was never out of sight of at least a dozen people. I saw octogenarians in long johns and six-year-olds in high-tech, expedition-weight summit gear. There were snowshoes and no shoes and serious looking people with ice climbing gear. Everyone was grinning, joking, saying hi to strangers in a giddy spring rite of passage. It was hard to tell how much we were risking just to be there.

After studying accidents for more than 30 years, I had come to Tuckerman Ravine with a question in mind: How do smart, capable, even well-prepared people—people like Couper and Lattey—make seemingly stupid mistakes and end up in serious trouble? There are many such happy places with their dark secrets—from the beaches of southern Lake Michigan to the waterfalls along the Potomac River to the Grand Canyon—and they all have two things in common: People, even experienced people, underestimate the hazards and overestimate their ability to cope with them. But Mount Washington is perhaps the ultimate example of a deceptively hazardous destination.

Situated within a day's drive of 70 million people (a quarter of the nation's population), Mount Washington is what modern-day search and rescue volunteers call "instant wilderness." We come from the relatively safe environments of the city, where our mistakes are mostly forgiven, and we bring with us the careless ways we've learned there. Worse still, we travel to these danger zones and have a benign experience —like mine on Mount Washington on that beautiful sunny day. And that gives us a false sense of security.

"Climbers from out West like to say that they have to dig to get to 6,000 feet (1,829 meter)," Rick Wilcox says. Co-founder and president of the MRS, Wilcox is also owner of International Mountain Equipment, a gear and apparel shop that lies in the shadow of Mount Washington, in North Conway, New Hampshire. IME can outfit you for a day hike or for a climb up Everest. (Wilcox himself summited Everest on May 15, 1991.) Since 1972, he's been on more than 300 rescues on Mount Washington. His friend Rick Estes, a former lieutenant with the New Hampshire Fish and Game Department, says: "People come here and say, 'I've climbed K2. I've climbed Annapurna. How bad can Washington be?' "

Mount Washington's legacy of disaster has claimed the lives of 134 climbers since 1849. Pick up the November print issue to find out more about this perilous peak, and America's most dangerous beaches, rivers, and deserts.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Additional Excerpts
From the print edition, November 2004

• Adventure Travel 2005: Amazing excursions for the new year
The 25 Wildest New Trips >>
Libya >>
Russia >>
Madagascar >>
Ghana >>
• Return to Zootopia: David Quammen revisits the Galápagos
• No Margin for Error: America's most perilous peak
• Pelton's World: Former no-go zones make a comeback



To: Knighty Tin who wrote (111659)2/24/2008 1:00:54 PM
From: Pogeu Mahone  Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 132070
 
scary-lol

Grape expectations
What wine can tell us about the nature of reality
By Jonah Lehrer | February 24, 2008

SCIENTISTS AT CALTECH and Stanford recently published the results of a peculiar wine tasting. They provided people with cabernet sauvignons at various price points, with bottles ranging from $5 to $90. Although the tasters were told that all the wines were different, the scientists were in fact presenting the same wines at different prices.

The subjects consistently reported that the more expensive wines tasted better, even when they were actually identical to cheaper wines.

The experiment was even more unusual because it was conducted inside a scanner - the drinks were sipped via a network of plastic tubes - that allowed the scientists to see how the subjects' brains responded to each wine. When subjects were told they were getting a more expensive wine, they observed more activity in a part of the brain known to be involved in our experience of pleasure.

What they saw was the power of expectations. People expect expensive wines to taste better, and then their brains literally make it so. Wine lovers shouldn't feel singled out: Antonio Rangel, the Caltech neuroeconomist who led the study, insists that he could have used a variety of items to get similar results, from bottled water to modern art.

Expectations have long been a topic of psychological research, and it's well known that they affect how we react to events, or how we respond to medication. But in recent years, scientists have been intensively studying how expectations shape our direct experience of the world, what we taste, feel, and hear. The findings have been surprising - did you know that generic drugs can be less effective merely because they cost less? - and it's now becoming clear just how pervasive the effects of expectation are.

The human brain, research suggests, isn't built for objectivity. The brain doesn't passively take in perceptions. Rather, brain regions involved in developing expectations can systematically alter the activity of areas involved in sensation. The cortex is "cooking the books," adjusting its own inputs depending on what it expects.

Although much of this research has been done by scientists interested in marketing and consumer decisions, the work has broad implications. People assume that they perceive reality as it is, that our senses accurately record the outside world. Yet the science suggests that, in important ways, people experience reality not as it is, but as they expect it to be.

. . .

Even our most primal bodily sensations, like pain, are vulnerable to the influence of expectation. Tor Wager, a neuroscientist at Columbia University, gave college students electrical shocks while they were stuck in a brain-scanning machine. Half of the people were then supplied with a placebo, which in this case was a fake pain-relieving cream. Even though the cream had no analgesic properties - it was just a hand moisturizer - people given the pretend cream said the shocks were significantly less painful.

Wager then imaged the specific parts of the brain that controlled this psychological process. When people were told that they'd just received a pain-relieving cream, their prefrontal cortex, a brain area normally associated with rational thought, responded by inhibiting the activity of brain areas (like the insula) that normally respond to pain. However, when the same people were informed that the cream was "ineffective," their prefrontal cortex went silent. Because people expected to experience less pain, they ended up experiencing less pain. Their predictions became self-fulfilling prophecies.

A similar mental process helps explain a wide variety of seemingly bizarre consumer behaviors. Baba Shiv, a neuroeconomist at Stanford, supplied people with an "energy" drink containing a potent brew of sugar and caffeine. Some participants paid full price for the drinks, while others were offered a discount. The participants were then asked to solve a series of word puzzles. To Shiv's surprise, the people who paid discounted prices consistently solved fewer puzzles than the people who paid full price for the drinks, even though the drinks were identical.

"We ran the study again and again, not sure if what we got had happened by chance," Shiv says. "But every time we ran it we got the same results."

Why did the cheaper energy drink prove less effective? According to Shiv, a kind of placebo effect is at work. Since we expect cheaper goods to be less effective, they generally are less effective, even if they are identical to more expensive products. This is why brand-name aspirin works better than generic aspirin and why Coke tastes better than cheaper colas, even if most consumers can't tell the difference in blind taste tests.

"We have these general beliefs about the world - for example, that cheaper products are of lower quality - and they translate into specific expectations about specific products," said Shiv.

One of the implications of Shiv's experiment is that it's possible to make a product more "effective" by increasing its price. A good marketing campaign can have a similar effect, as it instills consumers with lofty expectations about the quality of the product. For instance, Shiv cites research showing that cars made in the same factory, with the same parts, but sold under different brand names (such as Toyota and Geo) receive markedly different reliability ratings from consumers. When we drive a car with a less exalted brand name, we are more likely to notice minor mechanical problems.

Expectations can even play havoc with experts. A few years ago, Frederic Brochet, a cognitive psychologist at the University of Bordeaux, conducted a rather mischievous experiment. He invited 54 experienced wine tasters to give their impressions of a red wine and a white wine. Not surprisingly, the experts described the wines with the standard set of adjectives: the red wine was "jammy" and full of "crushed red fruit." The white wine, meanwhile, tasted of lemon, peaches, and honey. The next day, Brochet invited the wine experts back for another tasting. This time, however, he dyed the white wine with red food coloring, so that it looked as if they were tasting two red wines. The trick worked. The experts described the dyed white wine with the language typically used to describe red wines. The peaches and honey tasted like black currants.

According to Brochet, the lesson of his experiment is that our experience is the end result of an elaborate interpretive process, in which the brain parses our sensations based upon our expectations. If we think a wine is red, or that a certain brand is better, then we will interpret our senses to preserve that belief. Such distortions are a fundamental feature of the brain.

Nevertheless, scientists insist that consumers can take steps to protect themselves from their expectations. "Try to fact-check yourself," Shiv says. "Organize a blind taste test. Experiment with generic cold medicines, but don't let yourself know that they are generic. Decide how you feel about a pair of shoes before you look at the price tag." Shiv is convinced that this kind of self-experimentation can save consumers money. Instead of trusting big-name brands, or naively assuming that we always get what we pay for, consumers can learn to bargain hunt.

Rangel's wine experiment demonstrated the benefits of this approach. After the researchers finished their brain imaging, they asked the subjects to taste the five different wines again, only this time the scientists didn't provide any price information. Although the subjects had just listed the $90 wine as the most pleasant, they now completely reversed their preferences. When the tasting was truly blind, when the subjects were no longer biased by their expectations, the cheapest wine got the highest ratings. It wasn't fancy, but it tasted the best.

Jonah Lehrer is an editor at large at Seed magazine and author of "Proust Was a Neuroscientist."


© Copyright 2008 The New York Times Company