• Things that go fast – Laptop Edition

    We get accustomed to things. Everyone knows that while using a computer, there are going to be times when you just sit and wait for the machine to become responsive. The main reason is due to one component of the system, the fundamentals of which haven’t changed much since the early 1950’s.

    The computer industry serves us up multi-core CPU’s running at multiples of GigaHertz, fast RAM, fast I/O, blah, blah, blah – the idiot child in the group, however, is the hard disk drive. With apologies to all the thousands of developers working hard at optimizing the performance of HDD’s (I spent 19 years of my life at this, too), really, it’s lipstick on a pig compared to the Solid State Drive, a disruptive technology that has finally become real and within reach of most of us.

    I can’t put it much better than Anand Lal Shimpi in this article: Continue reading  Post ID 745


  • Rock Climbing Snow Canyon

    We met up with Paul and Diana one morning in Snow Canyon State Park north of St. George, Utah. Carol and I have climbed at Snow Canyon a few times, but Paul and Diana found and climbed the best route we’ve ever done there.

    Carol and I first climbed a couple routes at The Circus Wall. One unnamed sport route and then The Barbarian, a relatively easy, but long, trad route. One nice twist to The Barbarian for us – Paul and Diana let us try out their twin ropes which Carol and I had never used before. One upside is that with two 60m twin ropes, it’s possible to get off The Barbarian’s first pitch in one rappel instead of doing a multistage.

    Climbing20091012151107-1 on the twins (that just sounds wrong) was pretty straightforward; I had no clipping problems and Carol didn’t tell me about any belaying problems she might have had. I did get a lot of rope drag, but that’s pretty normal for The Barbarian as I remember.

    At the top, I set up to belay Carol. As she climbed, I did what I thought was a careful job of flaking the rope. After Carol got up to the anchor, we started trying to get ready to rappel.

    Long story short, we soon had a bit of a tangle – enough that Carol overheard some people that were watching from the road with binoculars say “they’ve tangled the rope”. Carefully pulling out rope, we set up the rappel and successfully threw the ropes. I don’t know what might have happened if there had been a lot of wind, but  it probably wouldn’t have been good. We both got down and managed to pull rope without getting snagged – whew.

    I liked using the twin ropes, especially thinking about alpine climbing where it would be good to be able to rappel 60m with the twins, and to have a backup rappel rope if something happened to one of them. Redundancy is our friend. I decided that if I were to use twin ropes, though, they’d need to be stowed safely in a rope bag at all times to avoid the whole tanglefoot thing.

    While Carol and I were climbing The Barbarian,  Paul and Diana were off at the Aftershock Wall climbing pitch one of “Living on the Edge“. The route goes up over a big alcove with big apparent exposure. Diana led the pitch (what a stud climber she is) and Paul, Carol and I all got to climb on toprope.

    It was awesome. The highest rated outdoor climb Carol and I had ever done – and that’s cool – but  the coolest part was the climb itself. We probably used every skill we’ve learned, and the view past your feet once you were over the alcove was just too much.

    Meanwhile, Paul and Diana had gone off and climbed The Barbarian.

    20091012152511-1Back on Terra Firma, Carol and I pulled the rope, stowed our gear and went and found Paul and Diana. We were ready to pack it in (excepting Diana, who has no discernible limit when it comes to climbing, in our short experience) and hungry, so we headed into St. George for dinner.

    I took everyone to Marv’s, where we indulged in the traditional American way of looking death in the face – cheeseburgers and fries. I don’t even remember the last time I had fries, but Marv’s were hand cut, freshly cooked – and awesome.

    A great day, inspirational climbing friends, inspirational climbing – I have to go back and lead Living on the Edge myself now – can’t wait.

    Click here for PICTURES. Best viewed as a Slideshow.

    A note on the pictures – whoever was belaying was also taking the pics; our rule was that the climber had to be in a stable position before any photography could take place, so no difficult moves are captured. I think we can all agree “hands on the belay” trumps picture-taking…

    ~Rick


  • Rock Climbing Zion – Aries Butte / Led by Sheep

    Arriving at Zion, “Zion Climbing: Free and Clean” guidebook in hand, Carol and I started scouting out climbs.

    We hiked in by way of Petroglyph Canyon (yes, we stopped and checked out the petroglyphs) and found the bottom of “Led by Sheep” fairly handily and decided, yeah, let’s try this one.

    20091007112336A few days later, Bob, Carol and I packed up early, headed out and scrambled up to the bottom of the technical climb, started gearing up and – oh-oh – that 20% chance of rain started to look more like 100%. Not wanting to be caught climbing wet sandstone, much less caught on top of Aries Butte in a lightning storm, we aborted and headed out.

    As an aside, it had nothing whatever to do with the fact that a certain person (yeah, OK, me, Mr_”Cotton_Is_Death_So_Don’t_Wear_It_In_The_Back_Country_Guy”) hadn’t brought a raincoat and was dressed in cotton pants.

    Somewhat  later, joined by new friends Paul and Diana, we again headed out early in the morning. Paul and Diana would be one rope team; Bob, Carol and I would be the other.

    Karma rewarded us for our three-times-persistence; climbing up to the saddle next to Aries Butte, planning to climb Led by Sheep, we encountered Desert Bighorns at the saddle. If that isn’t a hat trick, I don’t know what is. As we were gearing up, a bighorn peeked back over at us and decided the crazy humans weren’t leaving, and departed for good.

    I need to mention that SuperTopo gets a BIG FAIL for the beta on Led by Sheep – the guidebook suggests taking “10 long slings, and some parties may want a small rack” – there are no more than 4 bolts between anchors and if you climb it and find something useful to stick trad pro in, send me a picture. The rock is what I’d call barely cemented sandstone. A much better description of what you’re in for can be found here.

    20091010120931Paul and Diana geared up and set off; Bob, Carol and I started up as soon as Diana left the ground. I lobbied for lead climber; interesting stuff as it’s basically a big slab climb with little or no handholds (I suspect if there were handholds, they’d break off if one were to yard on them). Interesting for me as slab climbing is not something we get to practice much.

    The second, third and fourth pitches seemed much easier, either because they WERE easier or because I got used to slabbin’ it. We all got on top, had lunch, took lotsa pictures including one of a lightning-fried-tree (TOTALLY justifying our days-earlier decision not to climb in the storm) and then rappelled off.

    Fun day, awesome views, easy climbing – highly recommended!!!

    Click here for PICTURES. Best viewed as a Slideshow.

    Namaste.

    ~Rick

    P.S. Thanks to Bob, Diana, Paul and Carol for sharing pictures!


  • Fall 2009 Canyoneering Zion

    Carol and I got our start canyoneering in Zion, and it’s always a treat to return. New canyons, familiar canyons, new friends, old friends, no matter – a great day out – assuming little or no rain – is pretty much always guaranteed.

    Late fall is an excellent time to see the canyons, with moderate temperatures for comfort and low angle fall sunlight  to maximize the results of ones efforts at photography.

    Behunin Canyon

    Steve L. arrived from SLC, UT on the same afternoon as Bob M. arrived from Spokane, WA. Steve only had one full day to spend with us, and after much discussion we converged on Behunin Canyon as our destination. Bob and Carol had never been through; I had been through once as my fourth canyon 6-7 years ago, but remembered it as beautiful and great fun; Steve was our veteran.

    Behunin route description here.

    Carrying two 60m ropes and a 60m pull cord, plus sundry rappelling gear, food and water, we met the first shuttle bus up canyon at Canyon Junction and were hea20091005085943ded up the West Rim trail around dawn. Those early hours are the best time to make the hump up to the canyon dropin, both because of the comfortable hiking temperatures and because you get to enjoy the early light in the main Zion canyon. Also the best chance of seeing mountain lions or UFO’s,  each of which are equally likely.

    Descending into Behunin canyon, one immediately feels dwarfed by the huge canyon walls. Proceeding down canyon, we soon found the first drop and geared up.

    All went well on the first rap, then after the second, I got engrossed with watching the rope stuffers at work and let the rope drop onto a bush. Oh, oh. Sure enough, it was a rope-eating bush. Fortunately I was able 20091005103429to get up to the bush via a mildly sketch free climb and when I got there, I found that the universe hates ropes. It was definitely an “are you kidding me?” moment. Rope freed, I used the bush (sorry, bush!) as a handline anchor to get down. For the rest of the day, I gave rope pulls all the attention they deserved.

    Big walls, big, easy rappels, beautiful temperatures and lighting. Steve and Bob set up a guided rappel over one really skanky pothole (thanks, Steve, for taking one for the team and going first – into the skanky pothole – and for being our second anchor for the guided), so we remained pretty much dry.

    20091005120722We took our time and stopped to enjoy along the way. Having started early and being fairly efficient at moving along, we had time to kill. Steve shared Behunin canyon lore with us; we examined plants and rock formations along the way; just a leisurely stroll, really.

    At the exit rappels, we took time to admire the creative webbing nests. Backup upon backup with some really gnarly knots (an overhand is not a water knot, people) and a total lack of equalization. Whatever, we jumped on anyway ’cause 24 pieces of we20091005144924bbing must equal safe, right?

    The last rappel to the deck was awesome – the alcove on canyon left was suffused with golden light from the mid afternoon fall sun. Didn’t want it to end. A few calories, gear stuffed and it was time to scramble down the watershed to the trail and out.

    Click here for Behunin Canyon PICTURES. Best viewed as a Slideshow.

    Thanks to Bob and Carol for sharing their pictures.

    Spry Canyon

    A personal favorite. Joined by new friends Diana and Paul, Bob, Carol and I set off on the approach. Diana, Paul and Carol had never been through Spry, so they were in for a treat.

    Spry route description here.

    20091008075615There’s not much not to like about Spry – the approach gets your heart pumping, there are fun down climbing problems and awkward rappels, the canyon is beautiful, the exit is easy – no wonder it’s popular.

    We made the trip interesting a couple times – a guided rappel over a water hole (less than knee deep; I think we did if for fun more than for necessity) and a sketchy traverse out on a ledge to find alternate anchors and avoid water at the “fluted rappel”. We put Diana on a belay before she went out to the anchors. 20091008133230Communications were a little off, so when I started off to follow her, I put a prussik on the hand line just in case. Someone called it overkill, I call it “living to canyon another day”.

    The alternate anchor is – wow – a couple of knot blocks and a piton. Sure, why knot jump on and rappel? I’d say it’s probably not worth it to avoid the water, plus now there are new rope grooves showing up.

    On down canyon, into the water course and exit via Pine Creek. Back at the spotted car, a warning from Steve L. is fresh in my mind – “The rangers are bored and looking for something to do” – so I made sure we knew where our permit was before Paul and Bob took off.

    Sure enough, within 2-3 minutes (it seems) of their departure, a Parks vehicle with two rangers in it pulled up – “can I see your permit” – sure thing. Five minutes later ANOTHER ranger pulled up – “can I see your permit” – sure, and how many more rangers can we expect to see? Ha. A few minutes later, the original pair came back through, stopped and “can I see your permit – j/k”. Anyway, thanks, Steve, for the tip that helped us avoid some discomfort or a night in Ranger Jail (no showers, said Mr. Ranger, “it’s Pugatory”, smiles).

    Great canyon, great people, great day – worth repeating.

    Click here for Spry Canyon PICTURES. Best viewed as a Slideshow.

    Thanks to Bob, Carol, Diana and Paul for sharing their pictures.

    ~Rick


  • Après-Labor Day Sierra Trip

    A couple weeks after returning from our previous Sierra trip and some boring rehab on my back, we got antsy to get back out. We were planning to start our trip over Labor Day weekend, but the reality of the prospect of roads crammed over capacity dissuaded us from this plan at the last moment.

    We spent the time poring over our two new guidebooks:

    We thought we were Eastern Sierra veterans, but after reading these two guides, we’ve come to realize we haven’t even begun to explore. The author loves the Sierra – her descriptions of the hikes are thorough and compelling. There may be a few too many superlatives in her writing for some (meaning, too many for me…), but I choose to look past that to the love and enthusiasm. Buy the books – you won’t be sorry.

    Chocolate Lakes / Chocolate Peak

    For our warm up hike, we picked a route in the South Fork of Bishop Canyon. I have been on the main trial in the south fork at least half a dozen times, but was always headed for Bishop Pass and beyond, and had not done any exploring of the side drainages. It turned out to be a nice low key hike with great scenery. There is an easy scramble up to Chocolate Peak with outstanding views. We chose a more direct path coming back from the peak with a 200-300 foot descent over some very loose scree, but it wasn’t that bad. This lead us to a clear animal trail (we hope it was a bighorn sheep trail; the droppings were about right) and, figuring that animals don’t want to waste energy any more than we do, we chose to follow the animal trial back to the Chocolate Lakes trail.

    PICTURES from Chocolate Lakes hike

    In the guidebook, we learned of a nearby peak called Cloudripper, highest peak in the Inconsolable Range. With a name like Cloudripper, how could we not want to climb it? On the way in to Chocolate Lakes, we talked to a couple of other hikers and learned that one of them had already climbed Cloudripper. She told us they had approached the climb from Green Lake. Later, looking at the topo map, it looked like an approach from Thunder and Lightning Lake might work well too, but we chose to go with the beta from the hiker.

    Brown Lake / Green Lake / Cloudripper

    We got an early start and easily found the “pipeline trail” described in the guidebook that would save us 500 feet of elevation gain and loss. It was kind of an early morning balance check; the pipeline goes over ground where if you fell off, you could easily turn or break an ankle – this really helps with your focus and concentration.

    After a mile of pipelining, we found the main trail and headed on up. Easy hiking to Brown Lake, which was so tranquil it made a great reflecting pool. After a snack we headed on up to Green Lake, which is sited in a truly beautiful setting.

    Map and compass gave us our heading to Cloudripper and after circumventing a marshy meadow we were at the bottom of our climb. Talus. Much talus. Turned out to be 2500 feet or so of talus.

    We arrived at a saddle and, looking over the edge into the South Fork Bishop Creek drainage, quickly got oriented. We were looking down on Chocolate peak and off to our left was another big pile of talus that we had to get over to get closer to Cloudripper. We traversed to the left, quickly found that there was a cliff face on the other side of the talus heap so we had no choice but to go up and over. Arriving at the top, we discovered that – we were going to come up short. We didn’t have enough daylight left to make it to Cloudripper and back to the trail head, and the prospect of doing the pipeline walk with headlamps and possibly dew – nah.

    We climbed down off the peak (which we later found was unofficially named Vagabond Peak, 13,374′) and started looking for a way to avoid the talus downclimb. We found the bypass at the expense of probably a couple more miles of distance, but it was well worth it to avoid the talus.

    PICTURES from Cloudripper attempt

    I imagine we’ll return; the whole “Cloudripper / Inconsolable Range” thing is too compelling; we may choose to do it as an overnighter from Thunder and Lightning lake…

    Lundy Canyon

    We read up on Lundy Canyon in our guidebook – beaver works, giant aspens, several sets of pretty cascades, moderate hiking until you’re close to the upper cascade – what’s not to love. Heading up the trail – “Did you lock the truck?” – “I don’t remember…” – this happens all the time. Things I do on autopilot, without thinking, I can’t remember doing. Back at the truck (it was locked after all), there were a few clouds visible upcanyon, and, remembering discussions with Mat about late afternoon Sierra thunderstorms, I grabbed our raincoats. This turned out to be a good thing.

    Heading up canyon, we stopped to see the beaver dams, beaver lodges, cascades, flowers, giant aspens – all the good stuff. We hadn’t actually planned on getting to the upper cascades, but just kept hiking and soon we were on the slate scree approaching the bottom of the upper cascade. The way it works is, if you’re going to get weathered, it will happen when you’re as far from the trailhead as possible. Sure enough, it started to rain, so we cut over to get a look at the water, and while we were taking pictures, it started to hail as well.

    Thinking of all that nice slate scree getting wet and slippery (I know, wah wah wah) we turned around and headed back. It soon stopped raining and we took our time making our way down canyon, stopping at spots we’d bypassed on the way up. Somewhere about the second lake upcanyon, it started sprinkling; Carol asked if I wanted my raincoat – “No, not unless it gets worse than this.” I know intellectually I can’t influence the weather, but it sure seems like every time I say something like that, we’re in for it.

    The skies soon opened up, plenty of rain and then the hail started. It was really pretty; we were dressed pretty well for it (aside from my cotton shorts; once cotton gets wet it will dry about two weeks from never, “cotton kills”) so we were enjoying ourselves and the benefits of carrying waterproof cameras. At one point, though, in the open in hard hail, I discovered that a thin sheet of nylon fabric on my poor defoliated pate was insufficient protection from the stones, so I was hiking with my arms over my head to protect it.

    Back at the truck, we put on dry clothes and headed out to the Mono basin to camp. A thoroughly enjoyable outing, highly recommended, especially if you can arrange for the weather we had – ha.

    PICTURES from Lundy Canyon


  • Yosemite – Cloud’s Rest

    Our Mount Dana hike indicated that we might need more mileage under our feet before heading into the backcountry.

    A year ago June, when our Massachusetts friends Jim and Nadine were here in CA for adventures, we saw that they had a pretty good Yosemite guidebook called “Yosemite, The Complete Guide” by James Kaiser. We got one, had it with us, and picked out Cloud’s Rest for our second hike. Kaiser gets pretty excited about Cloud’s Rest: “savvy Yosemite connoisseurs know that 9,926-foot Cloud’s Rest offers better views in a shorter distance with mercifully fewer crowds” – compared to the Half Dome hike. Hmm, 14.4 miles rt, 2,200 feet up – OK, kind of harsh but we’ll bite.

    Up early at camp in the Mono Basin, drive to the Sunrise TH, do what we can to bearproof the truck (which consists of cleaning up the interior of the front; the campah is so stuffed with good food it’s hopeless), grab our packs and we’re off. Pleasant morning, nice and cool, somewhere before the first switchbacks two different pairs of hikers blew by us like we were standing still.

    Oh well, we’re happy for them and too mature to be competitive at this point in our lives.

    Later, on the switchback climb, when we passed both groups and never saw them again until after we had been on top of Cloud’s Rest for some time, there was absolutely no high fiving or fist bumping between Carol and I, as it’s not nice to gloat over passing younger hikers that don’t know how to pace themselves – right?

    Miles and miles of hiking through the trees. Let me branch a little on trees – I love trees, I completely appreciate all the good things they do for us, the animals, the earth, but I do not love hiking through the trees as I want to be able to see something around me besides another damn tree. Must be why I have such an affinity for the desert and alpine environments. As for that  “better views in a shorter distance” thing – according to the guidebook writer – seriously, dude, 7 miles of hiking through the trees on the way to Cloud’s Rest compared to climbing up the Mist Trail past Vernal Fall and mighty Nevada Fall on the way to Half Dome – I don’t think so. In fairness, the views from Cloud’s Rest are worth the (long, long) trip.

    Finally we spotted Cloud’s Rest (through the trees) and began the last climb up toward the top. Breaking out of the trees (finally!), the views are indeed awesome. On our right, far below, it the entire expanse of Tenaya Canyon and the glacially carved apron dropping down to the canyon is breathtaking. Ahead, we can see Half Dome (and the cables and the mobs climbing the cables) and Yosemite Valley.

    I’ve never been anywhere in Yosemite where I could see so much of Yosemite.

    We had lunch, took pictures of everything we could take pictures of, had a nice chat with a few folks including a Kiwi that we insulted by asking if he was an Aussie (chill, dude, at least we didn’t ask if you were a Brit – not that there’s anything wrong with being a Brit, but they are touchy about being misidentified…).

    More folks arriving, time to leave.

    Heading down the hill, hot and dusty, Carol says “thanks for getting us up early!” – yeah. At this point, we start noticing the sad faces headed up the hill in the sun – why do people dress in black, wear mountain boots (for winter mountaineering, sure, for a casual hike, no) and start late? Speaking of clothing, a few people made a comment about my sunsuit, including my hat – I said “You must not have had your first skin cancer biopsy yet” which pretty much seemed to get the point across quickly.

    It was a long, long way back, but eventually we made it. I kept myself going by dreaming of how that cold beer was going to taste and how the alcohol was going to numb the pain. Pain – my knee was happy; my back was not. We’re going to have to figure that one out before strapping on a backpack…

    Cloud’s Rest pictures here.


  • Mount Dana – were we ready for some mountaineering?

    We’ve been climbing gym rats for most of the summer, as I’ve had a several month flareup in my arthritic knee which I’d like to think is behind me. Fortunately, bouldering and toproping do not seem to aggravate the knee, so I have had plenty of entertainment.

    We packed our gear and headed for the Sierra with the thought of bagging another California Fourteener – either Mount Russell or Middle Palisade.

    Since we live nearly at sea level (180′ according to my GPS; close enough to sea level, high enough not to drown when the Arctic ice caps and all the glaciers melt), we always attempt to get some altitude acclimatization under our belts before heading alpine with our packs.

    Mount Dana is my favorite test piece – it’s convenient, it’s killer (~6 miles rt, 6200 feet of elevation change, better than 1000 feet altitude change per mile hiked, tops out above 13,000 feet), and I love the views from the top. Basically, if we can’t cruise Dana, we’re not really ready for a backcountry Fourteener. The trail to Mount Dana starts east of the road directly across from the Tioga Pass ranger station – go through a small parking lot and pick up the prominent use trail.

    Knee brace, hiking poles (loaded for bear as I hadn’t hiked much for months, and nothing like Dana for – well, a long time) and off we went, enjoying the morning sunshine, flowers, marmots, pikas and (mostly) solitude. You’ll likely not be alone on Dana, but it won’t be anything like the Disneyland atmosphere of Yosemite Valley.

    All went pretty well, at least to the Marmot Hut (what I call the pile of rocks just over a break in the climbing roughly 1700 feet up) where we stopped for a snack and a rest. From the Marmot Hut, we headed east toward the big pile of talus and scree that constitutes the western slope of Dana. Picking our way through the talus (there are ducks everywhere, choose the path of least resistance and go – as long as you’re moving up, you’re doing the right thing), Carol started experiencing some altitude sickness (nausea). It was bad enough that she wanted me to go on without her, but – we’re a team and we either peak together or not at all. Several stops, then 30 feet from the top she felt done and then one of our impromptu hiking compadres pointed out she had done 98% of the work (more like 99+%, but  why dither); she gathered herself and we were on the peak.

    I was pointing out some of  the landmarks visible from the peak (Mono Lake, Boundary Peak in Nevada, White Mountain) and Carol’s hiker friend (Clyde Gillette, Lepidopterist and Hiker Extraodinaire) says “That’s Boundary Peak? I’ve climbed that like 3 times. And I climbed White Mountain last week.” As it turns out, this guy is 82 years old, from Salt Lake City, and said he was the founder of the Utah branch of the Sierra Club there.

    This made us feel better about getting our asses kicked on the hike by an 82 yo man. One can only hope to be doing what he’s doing at that age.

    Side note – later in the trip, at the White Mountain ranger station, we found an incredible poster of the Sierra Eastside – here’s a link to the artist’s online copy. If you get a chance, buy one – it’s awesome and quite  inspirational. It points out 8 of the California Fourteeners, too.

    Lunch, pictures, peak register, general hanging out and then we headed down the mountain. Just so you know, even though it’s an out-and-back trip, it seems to be at least twice as far back as it is out. 3,000 feet of steep downhill – I hate downhill.

    My knee seemed OK, but now there’s a new weakest link – my back. Bad enough that we decided we weren’t ready yet to head into the backcountry with packs.

    After a rest day, we planned another ambitious hike – not as much altitude, but plenty of distance – Cloud’s Rest in Yosemite.

    Pictures from Mount Dana.


  • Home Made Whole Grain Crackers

    Recipe from here. Take a look and be sure to read the comments for some great ideas.

    My modified version:

    The night before cream in a large bowl:

    • 1 1/2 cup of plain whole yogurt
    • 1/2 cup of unsalted butter, softened

    Mix in:

    • 3 1/2 cups of whole wheat flour (I’ve substituted 1 C of oatmeal successfully before)
    • flavorings – caraway seeds, black pepper, habanero pepper, chipotle powder, sesame seeds, use your imagination.

    Cover and leave in a warm place for 12 to 24 hours (this is the “soaking” part). Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Using whole wheat flour to dust your surface and dough, roll your dough out thin. Cut into strips and then cut into squares.

    Place your squares on an ungreased cookie sheet and prick with a fork. Bake for about 8 minutes and check, keep checking every two minutes until done. They should be browning slightly on the edges, when done. Take off of sheet and place on a cooling rack and enjoy!


  • Coconut Oil

    I bought some coconut oil from iherb.com because I couldn’t find it in my stores.

    It’s a fabulous cooking fat. If you’re worried about it having saturated fat, time to do some research and update your mindset.

    Ways I’ve used it so far:

    • for making curries. that’s a natural.
    • in scrambled eggs and frittatas.
    • for making popcorn. this is awesome. get your timing right; the fat will smoke.
    • for”buttering” sweet corn. this, too, is awesome.
    • I tried it in home made energy bars; it didn’t seem worth  it to me.

    Coconut Oil, I’m glad you’re in my life…