Math Is Hard

I've never liked math much. I was halfway decent at it but never enjoyed the work. I went to a high school where our classes were mixed, meaning the best math student in the grade may be in the same class with the worst math student (except for AP classes). There were honors "tracks", meaning you had different homework and tests but were not in a special class without honors students. As a high school freshman in trigonometry class I opted to not do the honors work because "math is dumb and hard", but on our first test my teacher put an honors test on my desk. "I want you to take this one", she told me. I thought she was insane, but really she was just a teacher in tune with her students. I did the honors work that year and did quite well.

Fast forward to senior year and the highest math I completed was Pre-Calc. I was pretty happy with that, and it all laid the groundwork for getting an A in college algebra and managing to get through the calculus portions of my economics classes. Every single student that has taken a math class above elementary school always files the same complaint: "When are we ever going to use this in the real world?" To this day I have never used a derivative anywhere but an economics class, and I have long since forgotten whatever the hell an asymptote is.

Math in the "real world" caught up to me in the strangest of places: a 2-day training on how to use a grip hoist for trail work. I figured my "real world" math would be mostly comprised of calculating a tip in my head, and up until now I've been right. Trail work isn't exactly math intensive, but there I was staring at graphs and charts and cosines. Even worse, it was barely past 8am and I had only had one cup of coffee. THE HORROR. 

When I said I was going to a grip hoist training, everyone outside of AMC Trails responded with "what the heck is a grip hoist?". Valid question. A grip hoist is a machine that allows you to capitalize on mechanical advantage to move really heavy things. The grip hoist itself is that silver machine you see on the left. The person operating the machine uses a winch to pull tension on a wire rope. This can create a high line system where heavy loads can be lifted and transported long distances, it can also create a "zip line" for smaller loads to be sent somewhere quickly (for example, buckets of gravel can travel down the line instead of having someone carry it). It can also drag heavy rocks or timber.

So how does math play into this? Well, each piece of the system has a specific safe working load, and often it has multiple safe working loads depending on the situation. There's an equation to figure out how much weight different types of ropes can take. Line angles affect the lifting ability of the system, which include terms like "tension to load ratio". Then there's the task of estimating the load of an imperfectly shaped object, like rock or timber. I was trying to keep the whirlwind of information straight when I heard the sentence "specific gravity of rock" and my head almost fell off.

Luckily we had a good teacher. If there is anyone to learn grip hoist technique from, it's Lester.  He has an incredible amount of trail building experience, and if you want to know about him check out this article. By the end of day 1 I was finally starting to grasp the concept of how the long math equations contributed to real life applications, like dragging the ~400 pound rock seen on the right. It was dragged by one person operating the grip hoist; pretty amazing.

I vowed to study the numbers and my notes, but I was too tired when I got home. To Lester's credit, he didn't run this training like a math class. He gave us all the information and equations and not fun stuff and then showed us how it actually works. On the second day I still struggled to estimate how many cubic feet an oddly shaped rock was while others did the mental math almost instantaneously, but the hands-on experience made it all click.

Estimated weight: 600lbs. Actual weight: 523 lbs.

We set up a high line system and practiced moving big rocks from our quarry site, across the trail, and to the destination on the other side. I started to appreciate Lester's style of teaching more, which was to give us the crucial information then send us off in groups to figure it out. The struggle to remember the boatload of information and apply it made it stick that much more. For example, I will never forget how to choose and set up a spar tree because I was the one free climbing the tree with two slings as my movable ladder. My job was to get up the tree and set a "choker" (a sling hitched tightly around the tree like it's choking it) with a block attached for the wire rope to run through. The sling had to be way up the tree so the line was high enough to lift a heavy rock and send it across the trail without it dragging on the ground. I volunteered to do this, but I think I would have been volunteered by the group anyway as I was the smallest one with the least arthritis (except for the man on the other spar tree, who was an avid climber).

The training also gave me a chance to explore a mountain that I've only ever been to with skis on my feet. I didn't realize how beautiful the summit of Wachusett is. It offers 360 degrees views and you can easily see Monadnock and Boston's skyline. It's easy to see why the trails are so popular.

Monadnock from the summit of Wachusett

Ski trails in the off season

Alright, so I still don't remember what an asymptote is and probably never will, but I guess math beyond calculating tips does comes up in the "real world"... even if you aren't an engineer. I'm always grateful for new skills learned, and even more grateful to learn from someone with as much knowledge as Lester. I don't know when I'll actually use a grip hoist next, but if you need to move a several-hundred pound rock let me know ;)

Field Season Is Upon Us

Last time I posted I was hauling my ski boots up a mountain with a snow pack taller than me in some places. Just this past weekend I ditched my jacket for a t-shirt and got a sunburn. That's right folks, I got a SUN BURN. What does that mean? Well, one thing of course: FIELD SEASON IS UPON US.

And what does that mean?

Freshly hung axe (last year).

Time out of the office, hand tools, trail work, sunshine... and also mosquitos, ticks, poison ivy, wearing double-kneed Carhartt's in 90 degree weather... you get it. I'll take it though. It was a rough winter here, and as much as I enjoyed the incredible ski season I am ready to not freeze my ass off every time I leave the house.

We kept saying that "field season isn't far away, it feels far away but it's not!" Let me tell you, it felt far. I don't think I'm meant to work in an office environment. 5 hours in an office to me seems longer than a 10 hour day in the field. But it's finally here, and we welcomed spring with our first volunteer work day this past week. It wasn't a typical trail work day, but it was really nice to get outside in the sun and get some good work done. I always love working with volunteers because I'm reminded that they got up early on a weekend on their own free will. I'm paid to be there and do this hard work, they aren't. I know that volunteers get a lot out of their experiences, but it still blows my mind sometimes.

In other news, I reached my fundraising minimum for the Tour De Cure ride. We have decided to switch our route to the 62 miler instead of the 100. Adam is still in the process of rebuilding the bike he is going to use and hasn't had enough time to train on it. We feel like we could do the 100-miles, but we also want it to be fun and not a miserable slog of a ride. 62 miles is still a lofty goal! Thanks to those that donated to the cause. Now I just have to get a few more training rides in!!!