Do you remember how I said that Wikipedia didn't list Mountains in the Andes less than 4,000m high? Well, I was wrong. On another list, the fount of all modern knowledge takes a more catholic view of what constitutes an Andean mountain worthy of our attention.
And why, I hear you ask [1], is this significant? Well, since my last post, we've passed two very significant fundraising milestones. Thanks to very generous donations from Lisa, Ian, Laura, Tim and Ruth, we've reached £2,410 - over one third of the way to the summit of Aconcagua. Which means an even better milestone for our journey: we've reached South America, and the Andes.
Mount Sarmiento is a pyramidal peak [2] at the very tip of South America, in the Chilean part of Tierra del Fuego. A glacial saddle has carved the peak into two distinct summits, and it's a beauty. Charles Darwin called it "the most sublime spectacle in Tierra del Fuego." What a way to arrive in South America.
We're also only £170 short of reaching the altitude of Penitentes [3], the resort where Jeremy and I will spend our last night of comfort before starting the trek.
To celebrate, it's time to launch my new fundraising initiative. I've had to make a few changes in fundraising plans over the last week or so. One of my proposed prize draw prizes proved to be unworkable, and a change of plans at work meant that a quiz I'd planned can't now happen in the way I'd intended. But the quiz itself was written, and that gave me an idea:
The virtual Christmas pub quiz [3]
I've put my quiz in a spreadsheet [4]. It's got six rounds:
1. Christmas Carols (and, in the interest of balance, one for the atheists as well)
2. Christmas Traditions
3. Christmas Tipples
4. The Man in the Red Suit
5. Mystery non-Christmassy Round
6. Mystery Christmassy Round.
7. Tiebreaker.
For most of the rounds, you even get the answers - all you have to do is match the right answer to the right question. And now the voices are telling me that you want to know how it works:
In the first step of Quizmas, assemble your quiz team. Then go to http://www.justgiving.com/Jason-Whyte-Aconcagua and donate £5 per team member (or more, if you like). [5]. Drop me an email at jason@jasonwhyte.com and I will send you the quiz. Fill in your team name and answers, send it back, and I will score it.
The highest scoring team whose answers I receive by midnight on 14 December will win a Christmassy goodie bag - and the more entries we get, the goodier the goodie bag gets.
Oh, I almost forgot. In a pub, people can rat on you if they catch you using your phone to look up the answers. I can't do that, and the temptation will be there. All of the questions on the spreadsheet bar the tiebreaker are very vulnerable to a quick trip to a well-known website that rhymes with frugal.
So I'm relying on your honesty. I'm also asking everyone to include the following declaration when they email me to ask for the quiz:
"I do solemnly declare that I shall not cheat or if I do I shall make an extra donation to the NDCS and that I shall if at all possible complete this in the true and proper manner of a pub quiz, with some drinks and some mates (who will each make a donation) and preferably in front of a roaring fire in an actual pub"
Enjoy.
[1] It's a common phenomenon for would-be mountaineers to hear voices in their head, though as any good statistician will tell you, correlation (two things happening together) does not imply causation (one of them makes the other one happen). In this case, for instance, my hypothesis is that the underlying cause of both "wanting to climb mountains" and "hearing voices" is "not being entirely there up top".
[2] The term used by geographers to describe a mountain sculpted by glaciers eating away at it from each side, producing the sharp-edged mountain shape that is for most of us the Platonic form of a mountain. Many of the world's most famous peaks are pyramidal, including Mont Blanc, the Matterhorn and dear old Snowdon.
[3] See earlier footnote. I reckon this one may have common cause with the other two, too.
[4] Because I'm a geek. Deal with it.
[5] But note that because you're getting a quiz - and possibly a prize - for it, you can't claim Gift Aid on it. HMRC have been known to audit donation websites for comments like "for my raffle ticket" or "for the quiz" and the charity can get into hot water if they find any with Gift Aid on them.
Friday, 23 November 2012
Tuesday, 13 November 2012
A lucky escape
Sorry I haven't blogged for a while - we're nearing the end of the current phase of my project and I'm flat out at work, and last weekend was full of RFU. By which I mean that on Saturday we went en famille to the England v Fiji Autumn International (courtesy of the RFU's 2 for 1 and U16 offers) and on Sunday I completed the first phase of a Level 1 Coaching Children Ruby Union course.
Anyway, we've passed three momentous fundraising milestones in the past week. First a combination of Elaine, Anthony, Melinda and Izzy took us to the summit of Ben Nevis (and a little beyond), so we'd completed our tour of the UK.
Then I got confirmation of that I've been approved for a £750 grant from the Navigant Foundations. That took us into exciting and unknown territory. I'd promised you foreign mountains you've never heard of and can't pronounce... so how does Koschuta sound [1]? At 2,133m, it's the fourth highest mountain in the Karawanks [2], which are sandwiched between Austria and Slovenia and apparently one of the longest ranges in Europe.
Fortunately for the credibility of the expedition, Ian stepped in with a donation that has taken us to the summit of the far more respectable Mount Bistra in the Former Yugoslavian Republic of Macedonia. Actually, I have to be more specific than that, because Wikipedia tells us that Bistra (Macedonian: Бистра) is one of the most interesting mountains in the Republic of Macedonia . The mountain has many peaks higher than 2,000 meters and the highest one is Medenica Peak, 2,163 meters above sea level.
So, interesting Medenica Peak it is. But even continental European mountains are puny in the face of the Andes. The Wikipedia page for the Andes doesn't even list mountains below 4,000m, and we are still nearly 300m below the start of the trek. I haven't even been able to see nearby marvel of geography Puente del Inca.
Do you want me to be stuck on that minibus for ever? Of course not. So you'll all be buying tickets for my prize draw, won't you? We've got 5 great prizes, worth about £1300:
[1] No, I don't know either
[2] Stop sniggering at the back
Anyway, we've passed three momentous fundraising milestones in the past week. First a combination of Elaine, Anthony, Melinda and Izzy took us to the summit of Ben Nevis (and a little beyond), so we'd completed our tour of the UK.
Then I got confirmation of that I've been approved for a £750 grant from the Navigant Foundations. That took us into exciting and unknown territory. I'd promised you foreign mountains you've never heard of and can't pronounce... so how does Koschuta sound [1]? At 2,133m, it's the fourth highest mountain in the Karawanks [2], which are sandwiched between Austria and Slovenia and apparently one of the longest ranges in Europe.
Fortunately for the credibility of the expedition, Ian stepped in with a donation that has taken us to the summit of the far more respectable Mount Bistra in the Former Yugoslavian Republic of Macedonia. Actually, I have to be more specific than that, because Wikipedia tells us that Bistra (Macedonian: Бистра) is one of the most interesting mountains in the Republic of Macedonia . The mountain has many peaks higher than 2,000 meters and the highest one is Medenica Peak, 2,163 meters above sea level.
So, interesting Medenica Peak it is. But even continental European mountains are puny in the face of the Andes. The Wikipedia page for the Andes doesn't even list mountains below 4,000m, and we are still nearly 300m below the start of the trek. I haven't even been able to see nearby marvel of geography Puente del Inca.
Do you want me to be stuck on that minibus for ever? Of course not. So you'll all be buying tickets for my prize draw, won't you? We've got 5 great prizes, worth about £1300:
- A week in a holiday villa in Spain
- A case of vintage wine
- A newborn and child photography session, with a print and CD of images
- A custom-made corset (or a discount on a wedding dress)
- A family ticket to Big Game 5 - Harlequins vs London Irish on 29 December.
If you're interested, drop me a line for details of how to buy tickets.
[1] No, I don't know either
[2] Stop sniggering at the back
Thursday, 1 November 2012
A word on the NDCS
It occurs to me that, while I've typed quite a lot about my trek, I've not said much about the charity for whom I'm raising money. [1]
Our younger daughter, Cora, is now 20 months old. She does most of what you'd expect from a child of her age. She walks, she climbs, she runs, she falls over. She raids the fridge and makes a mess when feeding herself. She plays with her toys and her siblings. She seems to have an innate mastery of remote controls and takes delight in putting things in the rubbish bin (including, I suspect, a small camera that we haven't been able to find for several month). But she doesn't speak.
Her newborn hearing test picked up a problem, which was confirmed a few weeks later. It's not been formally diagnosed, but she has many of the characteristics of Branchio Oto Renal Syndrome, a genetic disorder in which structures in the ears, neck and kidneys fail to form properly during gestation. In Cora's case, the scans have revealed nothing wrong with her kidneys or neck, but she has no auditory nerve in her left ear. Her other ear is theoretically capable of hearing normally, bur she has a persistent case of glue ear - so most of the time she can't hear very much at all.
Resources are stretched in the NHS, and Cora's appointments with the specialists often end up being several months after they should have been (Concerned parent: "The doctor said we should come back in September" Harried receptionist: "I'm afraid the earliest I've got is November"). And while there are speech therapists who specialise in the very young, their priority is - rightly - with children who have worse problems than Cora.
Cora is lucky. When she's a little bigger, she should be fitted with grommets to drain the gunk. Once she can hear reliably with her good ear, she should get back on the developmental track, attend a mainstream school and lead a normal life. But we can't help worrying, and comparing her vocabulary with that of her sister at the same age. While Elspeth was by this point speaking in long, multi-clause run-on sentences that could take upwards of five minutes to complete, Cora's facility with language currently consists of: "No!", "No no no no no!", "Oh no!" (said with a Geordie accent, for no apparent reason), "Hullo!", possibly "Daddy!" and the British Sign Language signs for "drink", "hot" and "dog" (which indicates a set of practically all animals, including birds and her immediate family). In an otherwise talkative family, that's tough to cope with.
Which is where the National Deaf Children's Society comes in. In addition to campaigning for the rights of deaf children (one segment of society who, quite literally, cannot speak up for themselves), the NDCS offers resources and a community that helps the parents of children with hearing problems cope with and adapt to their child's disability. Learning that your child has a disability is bewildering and it is hard know what to do. Without the NDCS, we would probably still be struggling to understand how to help Cora now, and what to expect for the future. A helping hand and a way to reach other parents in the same situation means a great deal.
There are estimated to be over 45,000 deaf children in the UK. The NDCS has five fundamental beliefs about these children:
95% of the NDCS's funding comes from people's donations. Please give generously and help change the lives of the 1,600 hearing impaired children who are born in the UK each year.
[1] Important footnote: I'm paying for this adventure myself, in its entirety. None of your generosity will go towards Jason having what passes, in his slightly peculiar world, for a jolly. All of it will go to the National Deaf Children's Society. I know I've said it before, but it bears repeating.
Our younger daughter, Cora, is now 20 months old. She does most of what you'd expect from a child of her age. She walks, she climbs, she runs, she falls over. She raids the fridge and makes a mess when feeding herself. She plays with her toys and her siblings. She seems to have an innate mastery of remote controls and takes delight in putting things in the rubbish bin (including, I suspect, a small camera that we haven't been able to find for several month). But she doesn't speak.
Her newborn hearing test picked up a problem, which was confirmed a few weeks later. It's not been formally diagnosed, but she has many of the characteristics of Branchio Oto Renal Syndrome, a genetic disorder in which structures in the ears, neck and kidneys fail to form properly during gestation. In Cora's case, the scans have revealed nothing wrong with her kidneys or neck, but she has no auditory nerve in her left ear. Her other ear is theoretically capable of hearing normally, bur she has a persistent case of glue ear - so most of the time she can't hear very much at all.
Resources are stretched in the NHS, and Cora's appointments with the specialists often end up being several months after they should have been (Concerned parent: "The doctor said we should come back in September" Harried receptionist: "I'm afraid the earliest I've got is November"). And while there are speech therapists who specialise in the very young, their priority is - rightly - with children who have worse problems than Cora.
Cora is lucky. When she's a little bigger, she should be fitted with grommets to drain the gunk. Once she can hear reliably with her good ear, she should get back on the developmental track, attend a mainstream school and lead a normal life. But we can't help worrying, and comparing her vocabulary with that of her sister at the same age. While Elspeth was by this point speaking in long, multi-clause run-on sentences that could take upwards of five minutes to complete, Cora's facility with language currently consists of: "No!", "No no no no no!", "Oh no!" (said with a Geordie accent, for no apparent reason), "Hullo!", possibly "Daddy!" and the British Sign Language signs for "drink", "hot" and "dog" (which indicates a set of practically all animals, including birds and her immediate family). In an otherwise talkative family, that's tough to cope with.
Which is where the National Deaf Children's Society comes in. In addition to campaigning for the rights of deaf children (one segment of society who, quite literally, cannot speak up for themselves), the NDCS offers resources and a community that helps the parents of children with hearing problems cope with and adapt to their child's disability. Learning that your child has a disability is bewildering and it is hard know what to do. Without the NDCS, we would probably still be struggling to understand how to help Cora now, and what to expect for the future. A helping hand and a way to reach other parents in the same situation means a great deal.
There are estimated to be over 45,000 deaf children in the UK. The NDCS has five fundamental beliefs about these children:
- Deaf children can do anything other children can do, given early diagnosis and the right support from the start.
- Deaf children should be involved in decisions that affect them at as early an age as possible.
- Families are the most important influence on deaf children and young people, and need clear, balanced information to make informed choices.
- Effective language and communication skills lie at the heart of deaf children and young people’s social, emotional and intellectual development.
- Deaf children should be valued by society and have the same opportunities as any other child.
- Deafness is not a learning disability, yet 65% of deaf children in England fail to achieve five GCSE grades A*-C (including English and maths).
- Deaf children are vulnerable to isolation, bullying and poor self-esteem.
- Deaf children are 60% more likely to experience mental health problems compared to other children.
- Deaf children are more than twice as likely to be abused as other children.
95% of the NDCS's funding comes from people's donations. Please give generously and help change the lives of the 1,600 hearing impaired children who are born in the UK each year.
[1] Important footnote: I'm paying for this adventure myself, in its entirety. None of your generosity will go towards Jason having what passes, in his slightly peculiar world, for a jolly. All of it will go to the National Deaf Children's Society. I know I've said it before, but it bears repeating.
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