The winner of this year’s Palisadian-Post Travel Tales writing contest is not short of stories. James Spar, a UCLA professor of psychiatry, has traveled to remote corners of the world in search of wild habitats and animals. For our contest, he chose to write about game viewing in Botswana, where he had the unusual opportunity to see ‘two kills’ in a matter of five minutes. (See page 8 of the Travel Tales supplement.) ‘It was just so extraordinary,’ Spar told the Post Monday from his office at the David Geffen School of Medicine. He and his wife Carol, a child psychiatrist in private practice in Westwood, took the trip (which also included South Africa, Zambia and Zimbabwe) in 1999. On their third and last day of game viewing in the Okovango Delta, they set out to see African wild dog, a fierce predator that does not kill its prey before eating it. Traveling with a driver and a spotter, the Spars witnessed the wild dogs’ group-killing of an impala, followed by another impala’s quick death-by-crocodile. In his story, Spar describes how he and his wife ‘sat speechless, stunned and amazed by the events of the past several minutes.’ So did the editorial staff of the Post when we read his gripping tale. Spar’s skillful and suspenseful writing made this spine-cracking story entertaining despite the gory details. The Spars started their wildlife-oriented travels in 1992 with a trip to East Africa. They spent about 2-1/2 weeks in Kenya and Tanzania, on safari in the Serengeti and hot-air ballooning over the Masai Mara. ‘It was like the floodgates opened,’ said Spar, a Los Angeles native. ‘I thought you had to be somebody special to get to those exotic places, but it turns out you just have to give people money.’ Since their first trip, the Spars have seen wildlife in India, Mongolia, Nepal, Borneo, Komodo Island (Indonesia), Antarctica, Kodiak Island (Alaska), the High Arctic (on a Russian icebreaker), the Amazon River (Brazil, Colombia and Peru), the Gal’pagos (Ecuador), Costa Rica, Panama, Honduras, Belize, Mexico, Cameroon, Central African Republic, Ghana, Gabon, S’o Tome and Principe, Madagascar, the Seychelles, Spain (Do’ana National Park), the Danube delta in Romania and the Kizilirmak delta in Turkey. ‘I was always into animals when I was a kid,’ explains Spar,
Fears of Rent Hikes on Swarthmore
Bob Benton, who has been in business on Swarthmore for 23 years, was hard at work this week, ‘still crunching the numbers,’ he said. Owner of a sporting goods store at the corner of Swarthmore and Monument, and a former Chamber of Commerce president, Benton is still awaiting a resolution of his lease negotiations, which have been going on since November. Benton told the Palisadian-Post Tuesday that, initially, the landlord offered him a five-year lease, which would see his rent jump from $2.50 to $4.50 a square foot per month. After Palisades Partners rejected his counterproposal in early March, he told the Post: ‘If we can’t resolve this, somehow, and I can’t find another location in the Palisades, I guess I will go out of business. I’m still weighing all my options. We’re working the numbers as best we can.’ Yesterday, a trustee for Palisades Partners told the Post that they are still willing to work with Benton to reach an agreement. Benton was the first Swarthmore merchant to be offered a new lease by trustees Bob Stelzl, John Wilson and John Watkins, the three representatives from Palisades Partners, a multi-family trust that owns 18 of the 22 retail and commercial properties on the 1000 block of Swarthmore. On Monday, March 14, the three men met with Katie O’Laughlin of Village Books, kids’ clothier Ivy Greene, and members of the McCrory-Irwin family, owners of Michelle International and Palisades Beauty Supply, to present new five-year leases which include rent increases. Meetings with the remaining Swarthmore merchants, some of which were scheduled for this week, were unexpectedly canceled. Other businesses that will be affected by the proposed rent increases include Mort’s Deli, Palisades Playthings, The Prince’s Table, Roy Robbins, Baskin-Robbins, Wells Fargo and three restaurants’Dante’s, Terri’s and a la Tarte. Bert Yellen, who has owned a la Tarte with his wife Bonnie for eight years, feels the landlord ‘has the right to increase the rent to whatever they want,’ but ‘how much more do they think I can charge for my croissants? Going from $2.25 to $2.35 is already a lot, but it will not pay for the increases I hear they are proposing. While we are prepared to spend $50,000 of our own money to improve our restaurant’we want to put in a second bathroom and get a beer and wine license’we are not prepared to spend it without a lease.’ Terri Festa, who owns a second Terri’s restaurant in Agoura Hills, where she recently moved, said she is ‘frightened’ and ‘saddened’ by what is going on on Swarthmore. ‘I’ve been in business here for 10 years. The landlord called me about six weeks ago and asked if I intended to stay. I told him yes. While every couple of months I have people interested in buying my business, I have no intention of selling. I just hope all of this can be resolved amicably.’ Tonight at 7 p.m. in the branch library on Alma Real, the Palisades Community Council will discuss whether the board should schedule a special April meeting to consider ‘the impending crisis regarding Swarthmore merchants,’ according to Council Chairman Norman Kulla. (Editor’s note: Owners of the new Boca Woman store at 1022 Swarthmore, which opened last November in the former Video 2010 space, have a five-year lease with Palisades Partners. The unaffected businesses on Swarthmore include Whispers, Solis Salon, Fernworks and Paliskate.)
Contract Query Delays Y’s Pursuit of Temescal Parcel
The Palisades-Malibu YMCA and the Santa Monica Mountains Conservancy were caught short last week by a surprise question at the California Coastal Commission meeting in Newport Beach. The Y had hoped that the commissioners would vote on its application to divide the 56.78 acres in Temescal Canyon owned by the Conservancy into two lots (3.95 and 52.83 acres) and give ownership of the smaller parcel to the Y, while also allowing the Y to continue its annual pumpkin and Christmas tree sales at the corner of Sunset and Temescal Canyon Rd. Instead, several commissioners asked whether the Conservancy did have a legal obligation to sell the property to the YMCA. ‘This [contract] seemed pretty well established, so the commission’s general counsel hadn’t even been asked to review the documents,’ YMCA lawyer Tom Larmore said Tuesday. Unable to see proof, the commission voted to continue the issue. The legal arrangement came about in 1985 when the original owners of the property, the Presbyterian Synod, gave the YMCA an option to acquire the subject property and continue using the property. Then in 1994, the Synod sold the entire property to the Santa Monica Mountains Conservancy, which agreed to honor the Y’s options to acquire the subject 3.95-acre portion and the continued shared use and maintenance of the swimming pool. ‘Over the last 20 years, the Y has paid approximately $200,000 to keep their option,’ Larmore said. ‘They have been paying $10,000 a year since 1994. ‘Ironically, because we are in litigation [with opponents of the split], the day after the meeting the Conservancy’s lawyers sent us a copy of the brief, which states in three different places that the Conservancy does indeed have a binding contract.’ Larmore said that the Y’s application will probably be rescheduled for the Coastal Commission’s June meeting in Long Beach.
Local Talent Headlines in ‘Moon Over Buffalo’
Theatre Palisades regularly draws from a wide pool of talented actors living throughout Southern California, but with the new production of ‘Moon Over Buffalo,’ casting came about closer to home. Two Palisadians’Martha Hunter and Julia Whitcombe’ star in this comedy directed by Sherman Wayne and produced by Pat Perkins. The play centers on George (Jack Coppock) and Charlotte Hay (Martha Hunter), fading stars of repertory theater in 1950’s Buffalo. The couple have just lost their last chance at stardom’leads in a Frank Capra movie. To make matters worse, their agent is smitten with Charlotte and the company ingenue is pregnant by George. Add to the mix an almost deaf grandmother/costume mistress (Julia Whitcombe’s part) and a forgetful weatherman/fianc’ and the plot thickens. When the agent calls to say Frank Capra will be attending the matinee, George is missing and the company can’t figure out which play they are supposed to be performing, ‘Cyrano de Bergerac’ or ‘Private Lives.’ Misunderstandings, misplaced affections and missing persons work together to hilarious effect. This is Martha Hunter’s second appearance on the Theatre Palisades’ stage. Last fall, she was a force in another farce, playing the real inspector in ‘Inspecting Carol,’ also directed by Sherman Wayne. Hunter brings to the role of Charlotte a lifetime of acting experience, beginning with skits and later musicals at Brentwood Presbyterian Church as a child. ‘I remember doing ‘The Boyfriend’ and singing a duet with Dick Van Dyke.’ While living in Malibu for 15 years, Hunter was active in Malibu Summerstage. All the while, she worked regularly in commercials, TV and film, including a supporting role in the movie ‘Something’s Gotta Give.’ Hunter moved to the Palisades eight years ago. Acting is truly all in the family, with both of her daughters studying drama, one as a graduate student in London and the other as a junior at Northwestern University. Hunter laughingly describes her husband, Craig, as involved in a different kind of dramatic art: the law. Hunter is thrilled to have landed parts at Theatre Palisades, and relishes the community flavor the venue offers. ‘It shows there’s support and talent right here in the Palisades,’ says Hunter, referring not only to herself, but also to fellow actor Julia Whitcombe, who plays her mother in the production, and to three Corpus Christi eighth graders who are assisting with costumes and props. Whitcombe’s long affiliation with Theatre Palisades began in the mid-1970s. Over the years, she’s garnered eight ‘Best Actress’ awards with the organization. She cites Eleanor in ‘Lion in Winter’ and Sister Mary in ‘Sister Mary Ignatius Explains It All For You’ as her most memorable roles. ‘Moon Over Buffalo’ represents her 18th appearance on the Theatre Palisades stage. ‘Oh, look, oh, look, there’s an old lady part,’ Whitcombe jokes about her excitement to learn of the grandmother part in ‘Moon Over Buffalo.’ Whitcombe and her husband, John’who divide their time between living in the Palisades and Rifle, Colorado’have longstanding involvement with Theatre Palisades. After retiring as a chemical engineer, John supervised the construction of the theater in the early 1980s and Julia has served the company in various capacities for over two decades. Whitcomb’s other passion is her ongoing work recording textbooks for the blind. ‘You use lots of the same skills as being an actor,’ she comments. ‘Moon Over Buffalo’also stars actors Jack Coppock, Meredith Dinneen, Matt Landig, Holly Sidell, Warren Steinman, and Larry Sutton. The play opens on Friday, April 1 and continues through May 8 at Pierson Playhouse, 941 Temescal Canyon Rd. Performances run Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m. and Sundays at 2 p.m. Ticket prices range from $9 to $15. Contact: 822-0463 or 567-9995.
Author Ravicz to Talk On Adventure Novel
Author Tanyo Ravicz will return to his hometown to read from and discuss his new book ‘Ring of Fire and Other Stories,’ an Alaskan adventure novella and short stories set in the northernmost state. The 1979 Palisades High School grad will speak about his book on Thursday, March 31 at 7:30 p.m. at Village Books, 1049 Swarthmore. This is Ravicz’s first published book, although he has been writing fiction for 20 years and has been published in magazines and periodicals. Ravicz’s family bought their home on Castellammare in 1964. For 30 years, they owned the Barrymore house, so called because John Barrymore once lived there. ‘It was a great old place across from the beach,’ Tanyo recalls. After PaliHi, Ravicz studied literature at Harvard University and graduated in 1984. A few years later, he and his wife-to-be Martina settled in Alaska. While living in Alaska, Ravicz was writing and immersing himself in local activities, such as fishing and hiking. He worked as a substitute teacher during the year, and as an emergency firefighter during the summer, and also spent time working in the fishing industry. His writing was informed by the many different characters he met. ‘There’s a different variety of people you get at the extreme end of the empire’less varnished, less smoothed down by education.’ ‘Ring of Fire’ was inspired by an article Ravicz read about a Saudi crown prince who traveled to Alaska to hunt brown bears, just after the Gulf War. ‘It caught my imagination: the collision of the two worlds,’ Ravicz says. In the novella, Prince Tariz, the crown prince of the Islamic monarchy of Rahman, arrives with his entourage to hunt at the wilderness lodge of Hank Waters, a reclusive master hunting guide. The tension builds as the Rahman entourage, accustomed to having their way, violate hunting laws in the Alaskan wilderness, and Waters and crew see how far they will go to accommodate them. The six stories are of modern Alaskan characters from all walks of life, many exploring romantic relationships. Many of the stories had been previously published in Bellowing Ark, a literary journal. Bellowing Ark, a small press in Washington state, also published his book. When Tanyo’s wife, Martina, became tired of the cold, they moved to Palm Springs, where she set up her law practice. The couple and their two children, Miranda, 12, and Kody, 7, continue to spend their summers on 15 acres on Kodiak Island, land which Ravicz had homesteaded. Ravicz cites many literary influences’Shakespeare, Tolstoy, Joyce, Mann, Maugham, Bellow, Steinbeck and Jack London. As far as what inspires him, Ravicz says ‘something triggers me, it comes out of something in my soul. Something you witness, hear, smell or recall fills you with a sense of relevance. Everybody has those experiences: writers just crawl away and scribble it down.’ Ravicz says writers explore ‘aspects of human nature that haven’t been explored before.’ He has received praise from authors Thomas Keneally, who compared the book to Styron’s first novel [‘Lie Down In Darkness’], and Judith Grossman, who said he ‘weaves his own way between Faulkner and Hemingway.’ Ravicz met Keneally and Grossman when he was briefly enrolled in the writing program at UC Irvine. Ravicz is currently working on a nonfiction essay as well as a ‘West Coast novel,’ which tells the story of a Mexican Indian migrant worker and his journey from Mexico to Alaska.
Duncan W. Cox, 88; Lived Here 26 Years
Former Palisadian Duncan W. Cox, 88, died of pneumonia in Sacramento on March 9. Born in Copperas Cove, Texas, Duncan spent his youth in Copperas Cove, Dennison and Dallas. He married Marian Cannon in Kansas City in 1940, and served in the U.S. Army Air Corps from 1941 to 1945. After the war, he joined the Los Angeles Police Department in 1947 and retired in 1973. He also was an agent for the Kansas City Life Insurance Company for a number of years. Duncan and Marian lived in Pacific Palisades from 1947 to 1973, then moved to Point Dume Club of Malibu where they lived until 2002, and finally moved to Sacramento. Duncan enjoyed playing tennis until he was 85, and he and Marian enjoyed going on cruises all over the world. Besides his wife of 64 years, Marian, Duncan is survived by his son Craig (wife Carol); his daughter Cathee Folk (husband Dennis); four grandchildren, CJ, Devin, Jennifer and Tyler; and a sister, Jean. He was preceded in death by three sisters, Ona, Audrey and Tommy Lou. Duncan donated his body for studies in medicine at UC Davis, to provide medical researchers with tools that help them to investigate new surgical and medical procedures. A memorial has been installed on the medical school’s campus at UC Davis to serve as a perpetual remembrance of those who have donated their bodies.
Jacob Berl Schwartz Dies at 78
By MARTY SUGARMAN Special to the Palisadian-Post One heart, one way. Jacob Berl Schwartz led a good life and will always be remembered as a person who never created harm or problems to others. He died March 15 at his Pacific Palisades home at the age of 78. A truly wise man who realized that true happiness came from a peaceful and calm disposition and abiding by a clear and definite moral code, Berl led a good and productive life and made every precious moment count. He always appeared content and happy; he was grateful for what he had instead of being unhappy for what he didn?t have. Born on May 5, 1926, in Los Angeles, Berl spent his childhood years in the Los Feliz area and attended Marshall High School. He served in the Army during World War II, but was physically discharged after one year. Later he received a B.A. in history from the University of Southern California. Last May, Berl lost his loving wife of 50 years, Brenda. Her depature left an enormous gap in his life. They had shared many happy years together, and, most importantly, both underlined the importance of instilling a strong moral conscience in their five children (Jeff, Margie, Susan and twins Karen and Lulu) and eight grandchildren. After Brenda?s death, all of Berl?s children stepped in to insure his well being. Besides reading history books, Berl?s other passions in life included playing the piano, strumming the ukelele, doing crossword puzzles, and participating in beach volleyball games. He loved going to Will Rogers State Beach, notwithstanding the weather. He said repeatedly, ?Once you get sand between your toes, you?ll never entirely get it out.? His love for the beach was inherited by all of his children. Berl?s knowledge of music was staggering. He was truly an amateur musicologist. He knew every song title and its lyrics prior to 1960. I recall on many occasions when he gave me a lift somewhere, he would be listening to some scratchy recording of music from the ?40s. A longtime Palisadian, Jacob Berl Schwartz will be deeply missed by all who knew him as an honorable person who was mindfully aware of other people?s feelings and needs. He did not live exclusively for himself. He gave himself first to his family and circle of friends. Bill Plant, a close friend for 48 years, can never recall hearing a negative word spoken about Berl. Another old friend, Shap, added: ?Berl was always there when I needed someone to talk to. He was a very good listener and had the knack of putting you back on the right road.? Funeral services were held Tuesday at Hillside Memorial.
David Ferguson, 53; Architectural Leader
David Ferguson, a resident of Pacific Palisades since 1997, died on March 8 at St. John’s Hospital in Santa Monica after a short but valiant battle with colon cancer. He was 53. Born in the Highlands of Scotland, David grew up in Inverness and attended Robert Gordon University in Aberdeen and South Bank University in London. He graduated as a Royal Chartered Surveyor, then moved into architecture and became partner at Peter Bell & Associates in London. In 1980, while touring the United States, David visited Aspen, Colorado, where he met his wife, Barbara. By 1983, he had moved to Los Angeles and was quickly making an impact in the real estate world. His architectural work at Kamnitzer & Cotton Architects and D2 Designs, his role as vice president of development at Thomas Safran & Associates and his leadership as executive director of the Corporation for Better Housing enabled him to design and create nearly 4,000 affordable rental units throughout Southern California during his 22-year career. Always ready with a joke and a wink, David was at all times charming, patient and humorous’traits that earned him many hearty friendships and lasting business associates. Honoring his European roots, David worked and played hard and could occasionally be found wearing a kilt. His fond memories of Aspen recently inspired the family to purchase a vacation home in Park City, Utah, where he spent a few wonderful seasons skiing, hiking, and befriending all who met him. He is survived by his wife, Barbara; daughter Emma and son Kyle; his father Adam; brother Donald (wife Annette) and sister Catherine (husband Alan). To honor his love of the beach and Southern California in particular, and in place of a funeral service, David’s life was celebrated at the Jonathan Beach Club in Santa Monica on March 15.
Sierra Mountains: My Banner Summer Adventure
By JACQUELINE BRODY After five months of training, running with my parents at 6 a.m. before school, and long hikes on weekends in the Santa Monica Mountains, we were ready. My mom and I were on our way to climbing Banner Peak. Banner Peak is near Mammoth Lakes, California, in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Our first day, we started at the Agnew Meadows trailhead in Devil’s Postpile National Monument. We hiked seven miles through the San Joaquin Valley up to Ediza Lake, our campsite. Since our campsite was so close to the lake, mom and I could sit by the water, draw pictures and whittle wood. We also made sundials, moon-dials and compasses. Did you know you could make a compass out of a straight pin, pocketknife, water and hair? At 4 a.m., with cold winds and a full moon, we set off up Ediza Creek towards Banner. Our headlamps helped us see where to step. We started by hiking up huge boulders that went on and on. During this time my mom realized she had lost her GPS that my dad had given her. That was good for me when later I lost my new pocketknife and sunglasses (I didn’t get in as much trouble). We finally got to one of the three glaciers on the mountain. As we got closer to it, I got more worried about having to climb it. Of course we would. Anyway, it was extremely windy on the glacier. It was like a huge wind tunnel. We had to wear a harness and climb up with crampons and ice axes. A couple of times the wind made us lose our balance and we had to dig our ice axes into the snow to keep from slipping down the glacier. At the top of the glacier, the saddle, we patted ourselves on the back and started our final climb to the peak. I thought we had finished the big boulder climbing earlier, but no, there were more boulders. At 12,000 feet I was getting really worn out. The higher we went, the bigger the boulders got. Soon we had to wear our harnesses and rock-climb a bit. My mom said it was only Class 3 climbing, which seemed pretty nasty to me. After a long time through rocks, rocks and more rocks, we made it to the summit! We were on the top of Banner Peak at 12,945 feet. Wondering on the way up if it would be worth it was pointless; the view was beautiful. I’m normally not afraid of heights, but at the top I wouldn’t stand up. My mom had to convince me to stand up for a picture. But you shouldn’t blame me; you probably would have felt the same thing. We wrote our name, date, age and inspirations in the Sierra Club ledger stashed in a metal ammunition box. I was anxious to start down the mountain because we were technically only halfway done with the day. On our descent I got my energy back. I also got a little hyper. We belayed down the glacier. My mom and I were so scared we found that singing Sheryl Crow songs helped distract us from our fears. We took a different route on the way back with fewer boulders. Yeah! It was fun to walk down and across the slippery rocks along the creek. Once I slipped and landed on my bottom. Other than that, it was probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. There were mini-waterfalls, moss and pretty yellow flowers. Just below the creek was a small glacier. Time for butt glissading! That was really fun. After getting back from our big trip we had hot cocoa and dinner; we read and then went to sleep. I learned a lot of things while climbing the mountain. I learned about sun cups (depressions in the snow surface casued by sun or warm, gusty wind), crevasses and berkshrund (a larger crevass). I learned that you don’t stink too badly after five days with no bath. I also learned how to work very hard towards a goal and how wonderful it is to accomplish that goal. I can’t believe I did it. I climbed Banner Peak!!! (Jacqueline Brody is 12 years old. She lives in the Palisades Highlands with her parents, Cindy and Mike, and her three sisters, Katherine, Madeline and Caroline. She is in the sixth grade at Calvary Christian School and is continuing her love of the Sierra Nevada Mountains by skiing on the Mammoth Mountain Ski Team on the weekends.)
Falling from a Roof On the Roof of the World
By HARRIET KIMBLE WRYE This trip was a pregnant combination of awe-full and its close cousin awful. After returning from three peripatetic years traveling the globe, my husband and I had settled into our beloved Castellammare home of over 30 years and expunged the vile vibes of the Tenant from Hell by burning a lot of sage, refinishing floors and repainting. Forever uncured, though, the travel bug bit us once again when we heard about a wild tribal horse festival in the remotest corner of Tibetan Szechuan China, and so in July off we went. We flew from L.A. to Hong Kong to Kunming province in Southwestern China to spend a few days exploring the region’s fantastic geology and ethnic richness. Then heading north to Szechuan with our plane’s wings dipping dizzyingly close to the peaks, we dropped into the enchanted hidden Himalayan valley of Dzong Zhien, reportedly the mythical Shangri La of World War II fame. Several bumpy, winding days of four-wheeling took us onto the Himalayan plateau to witness an awesome annual Tibetan tribal gathering, the Litang Horse Festival. In this remote Tibetan area annexed by Red China, feudal costumes hidden from the Red Chinese takeover were donned for days of dancing. Men and women wore fur boots, tiger skin wraps, pendulous coral beads and hammered gold medallions while hundreds of gaily decorated Tibetan ponies and their fearless riders thundered across the plain, competing in races, stunts and archery feats, all at recklessly high speed. We saw more than one near-fatal accident, and one man dragged to death by his pony. Caught in a groundswell of Tibetan spectators, I was nearly clubbed to the ground by Chinese militia as the ages-old antipathy of the Chinese for the Tibetans surfaced. Following the festival, Jim and I set out with our Tibetan guide on a week-long trek into the remote Gorge of the Dongwang River, a tributary of the Yangtze. In this isolated but breathtaking part of Tibetan Szechuan, it turns out, adventure trekking is still practically unheard of, so we basically donned our hiking boots to become our guide’s outback guinea pigs. The first day’s ill-planned trek covered over 20 precipitous miles along a narrow gorge, with an altitude gain of over 5,000 feet. After 11 hours on the rugged trail, we were so done in when we reached the village where we were to pitch our tent on the flat roof of the village headman’s house that we begged just to fall into our sleeping bags sans supper and crash for the night. It occurred to me, however, to ask where the toilet was. (In China that means ‘Where’s the slit in the floor?’) Our host motioned to an anteroom off the roof. We went to check it out, Jim leading the way. I watched helplessly as the earthen roof collapsed under my husband and he fell three stories into, yes, the Tibetan toilet. Terrified that he might have been killed, I screamed out to him’and in vintage humor, Jim moaned back from the bottom of the pit, ‘Well, now you can really call me shithead.’ The fall netted three broken ribs, a badly torqued foot and no ordinary means for evacuation. After he was rescued, codeine allowed him fitful sleep, and in the morning we got to see how a true village works. Our host summoned all the strong young men for a pow-wow that resulted in a rather comically rustic litter. Fortunately we had more codeine, as broken ribs are very painful, especially as Jim had to be roped onto this litter of unplaned saplings. Twelve men formed three teams of four to take turns carrying him back out the same rugged 20 miles, while I begged for a mule which was only reluctantly proffered. (I later discovered why. No one in the village’s memory had ever dared ride an animal along that sheer gorge.) Eleven hours of alternating rain and sun later, our guides, the 12 men carrying Jim on his litter, and my mule and I dragged to the trailhead. From there we jostled seven hours by Jeep through the night to the ‘hospital’ in Shangri La’and the only available treatment of prayer and poultices, a noble tradition except when you require more. It took us another week for Jim to be able to tolerate the 23-hour plane trip home, where an orthopedist and an MRI diagnosed the trauma as a serious ‘Lis Franc’ dislocation requiring surgery to freeze the joints on the top of the left foot. Literally screwed, he spent 12 weeks on crutches. God doesn’t close a door without opening a window, and this catastrophe has opened our pores so wide we feel the whole universe coming in. We’re more grateful for our lives and medical care here, yet still uncured of the venomous bite of the travel bug that brings the awful and the awesome so poignantly into our lives. Initially the prognosis for hiking again with this rare injury was bleak, but Jim has been granted another of his nine lives which we recently celebrated with a five-mile hike in Temescal Canyon. (Dr. Harriet Wrye, a psychologist/psychoanalyst practicing here, and her husband Jim Wheeler, a retired commercial banker, have lived in Pacific Palisades for around 30 years. Their son, Gabriel, is a filmmaker in L.A., and their daughter, Ariel, is a bilingual elementary teacher in Echo Park. Both graduated from Palisades High. Harriet and Jim are inveterate adventure travelers, having climbed Kilimanjaro and peaks in the Andes and Himalayas, and immersed themselves in remote tribal cultures in Borneo, Irian Jaya, and the Amazon rainforest. Dr. Wrye is the author of ‘The Narration of Desire’ and numerous psychoanalytic articles.)
