Month: December 2004

Categories
outdoors

Making our mark

Today was going to be the last sunny day until midweek, and it would have been a shame to waste it inside. I remembered a hike I had intended to take once in the summer, Bluff View at Meramec State park, but didn’t because of the spider webs across the path. Today seemed an ideal day to try it again.

And it was an ideal day–in the 50’s, with a gentle cool breeze, and not a web in sight. Like the earlier hike, Bluff View is also a moderately difficult hike, with very rocky ground and steep hills, and narrow paths that border a cliff overlooking the Meramec River. Unlike earlier, though, the terrain was more familiar. And dry. In fact, other than having to use caution with footing, today’s hike ended up being more of a enjoyable walk than a challenging hike.

There are a couple of shelters made by the old CCC (Conservation Corp) back during the depression, along the way. Kids had spray painted messages over the one I visited. In particular, “Leslie + Jeff” featured prominantly, along with various exclamation of people ‘rulz’ and ‘Jesus Savs’.

I usually get annoyed by graffiti, but wasn’t very annoyed at the marking, primarily because the shelter itself is a marking as such: a shelter that really wasn’t needed, funded by a society that was both crafy and benevolent; built by men desperate to feed their families during one of our darkest times. The trail that led to the decision to create such a shelter is one that grew over time, rather than developed naturally–the markings of thousands of hikers like me who saw the hill and had to climb it, just to see what was at the top. And it was these same hills that provided home to ancient Indian people, who used to carve pictures of animals and gods into the rocks to celebrate a hunt or protect a new child. At the most, Leslie and Jeff were just leaving this generation’s scent on stone long claimed by humanity.

The rest of the trail was without much to remark, other than the casual mention of the quiet only broken by my footsteps and the beautiful weather and how wonderful it is to stand at the top of a tall bluff and see for miles around. But Missouri in Winter tends to exist in shades of rust and brown and gray, with an occasional slash of blue or green — I’m not sure I can continue to remark on this tree or that rock without resorting to, ‘There was a tree’ and ‘there was a rock’; or variations such as ‘there is a tree on the rock’.

The best part of the hike was getting back to the car and feeling like I hadn’t walked enough. Say now, this is progress! Especially after my dismal showing in the earlier hike. So I treated myself to a gentle walk along the road that parallels the Meramec by the campgrounds.

There were a few hearty souls out camping, friendly as always when in the back woods–nodding their heads and saying hello, or stopping to chat. Yes the same inbred ignoramuses who threw aside the chance to toss Bush out will smile at you, and tip a finger to their hats in greeting as you pass. Those savages.

I noticed a group of large, predator like birds flying in circles overhead and a man and his wife passing told me they were turkey vultures. I was surprised, because I know what an ugly bird this can be, but they were beautiful and graceful in the air as they circled. I continued walking, trying to take a photo of the birds, but without a telephoto, this would be impossible. As they flew, they overlapped each other and dove and circled, but never made a sound, quiet as death itself.

(I shamefully confess to feeling no small amount of relief when the birds suddenly found something to land on across the river because it did seem as if they were uncannily matching my steps for the longest time. I know these creatures sense of smell is keen; were they trying to tell me I needed a shower after my hike?)

I stopped at the end of the walk to take some photos of the cliff across the water as the colors seemed pretty. When I got home, I looked at one of the photos and thought I saw spots of red in the picture. Alarmed, I grabbed my camera to see if something was wrong with it, but it was fine–the red was in the pictures. I enlarged the photo and cropped down to the trees with the red.

Then I enlarged the photo again and cropped out just one of the red dots. Looking at it under magnification, it looks like a Christmas tree ball.

Categories
outdoors

The well-equipped hiker

In the last post, fellow hiking enthusiasts Loren, Doug (who found some snow today), and Joe all recommended poles for hiking; either ski poles or ones designed for trekking. Allan Moult of Leatherwood also suggested last winter that I get trekking poles, especially with the types of hikes I prefer.

I’ve had a walking stick that I’ve used for years now, shown below in the photo* from today’s hike. It’s about five feet long, made of a tree root that has been smoothed and varnished, given a rubber tip, and rounded at the top. It’s been through the muck but still looks good, and other than some oldster joking from time to time about finding …any ole branch in the forest, it’s done well by me.

I wonder, though, if I should look at investing in trekking poles. I see these used by more and more people, and they do look useful. They can fold up and be slipped into a pack, but are strong enough to take my weight when I’m headed downhill. And as noted in this page, trekking poles put equal pressure on both sides of the body.

Still, my old stick has a lot going for it. It’s the right height and firmness to provide support going uphill, and to be leaned on if making a long step between rocks going downhill; it thumps nicely on the ground, which scares away snakes, and can be used to brush spider webs out of my path. I can rest my chin on it when looking out over a vista, and can push brush out of the way when walking through grasslands. It’s unlikely I’d be attacked by wild animals, but it’s not uncommon to meet up with strange dogs in some areas, and the stick is intimidating to dogs.

And when I’ve climbed that steep, rocky hill and no one else is around, I can play Ninja Warrior.

*Just be glad I didn’t include a photo of my muddy, old, hiking boots, too.

Categories
Photography

Pickle Creek

Archive page with comments at Wayback Machine

Wednesday I headed south to try out a new hike in the Ozarks. I plan on concentrating on Ozark hikes this winter, ranging out a bit from my usual St. Louis area favorites. I’ve done the Mississippi and Meramec, time for new waters.

Pickle Creek is a little-known conservation area that’s a pleasant 70-mile drive from St. Louis. The guidebook calls it was one of the best hiking trails in the state to demonstrate many aspects of Ozarks landscape, including the limestone carvings and the dark, moist canyons. The book also said the loop would be about 2 miles, which seemed like a good length for a sunny afternoon.

Once I got there, I also found it had been raining, hard, for about a week and the ground was soft, and wet, and piled high with slippery leaves. Worse, though the trail is only about 2 miles, it has some very steep portions, narrow at times, and bordering on cliffs and filled with rocks and uncertain footing.

However, it is also one of the richest hikes I’ve been on in the last couple of years, featuring limestone, rare ferns in deep woods, waterfalls, and Missouri’s only native pine.

The dead of winter is now on us, and there wasn’t another living creature around, other than a few hearty spiders. Walking in Missouri forests in the winter is such a change from summer when the life can bear down on you from all sides. As much as I enjoy the Missouri green, I like walking in the winter, when the leaves are dropped and you can see the hills. And there are fewer people about.

Wednesday, though, the complete lack of any sound except for creek, waterfall, and the crackle of dead leaves underfoot was unnerving. That combined with the dark, shallow caves carved into the limestone all around made me feel oddly uncomfortable.

I think the effect was heightened by the trouble I was having with the footing. The path is so narrow that the sign at the trailhead points people in the direction to take, forming a one-way flow of traffic. But the drawing at the trailhead promised so much if I continued – carved limestone, waterfalls, bridges and outlooks. And then there was The Slot.

The Slot at Pickle Creek

The Slot was a crack within the ground, bounded by limestone carved by a trickle of water that runs through it. You walk through this crack, the walls blocking the view from either side. The way going is narrow and covered in lichen; dark and wet, with very muddy footing from the rains.

I’ve walked through cracks in cliffs before, but never a crack in the ground; not with dark and hidden pockets just out of view, against a background of damp, dripping cold. I started to pass through but stopped, just after entering, and couldn’t continue. There is this little primeval monkey in the back of my mind that beats its tiny hands against my skull, screaming out in terror when faced with the unknown. Though I can usually calm the monkey without much trouble–throwing millennia of evolution at it until its cries are smothered by reason–sometimes the monkey wins.

Of course, I tell myself that it was only common sense that ruled my decision. After all, there was that mud, there was the slippery footing, and there was the lateness of the day; not to mention not having told my roommate where I was hiking, in case I did become injured. But I can give all the excuses in the world – it was still the monkey.

To heck with the rules that say to walk one way. The other way didn’t have any dark and gloomy cracks, but it did have limestone cliffs along a creek, carved out from time and standing like sentries overhead. They were magnificent.

At one end of the canyon at the bottom of the trail is a creek, and a small waterfall. It was exquisite, made more so by being so delicate and light. No rushing water here, just the gentle drop of water from the top of the cliff to the ground below.

There was a hollowed out area around the bottom, and light gray sand at the bottom. Lining the walls were ferns that filled all the crannies in the rock. From an online guide, I found that wild azaleas and other flowers join the ferns in the Spring and Summer. It must seem like a land out of time when in full growth.

I walked until I reached what was known as the Boulder, and followed what I thought was the path, but reached some steep rocks that I definitely knew I wasn’t up for Wednesday. I was disappointed, though – I’d only managed a little over a mile of the trail, about two miles round trip. The footing wasn’t that bad; this was a level 4 hike, not a 5.

Perhaps the monkey is winning more than I realize–another aspect of getting older I have to come to terms with, like bad knees and a soft butt. Maybe next week, I’ll bring bananas with me. I’ve heard that potassium in bananas is good for the nerves.

Categories
outdoors Photography Places

There is this little primeval monkey in the back of my mind that beats its tiny hands against my skull

Wednesday I headed south to try out a new hike in the Ozarks. I plan on concentrating on Ozark hikes this winter, ranging out a bit from my usual St. Louis area favorites. I’ve done the Mississippi and Meramec, time for new waters.

Pickle Creek is a little known conservation area that’s a pleasant 70 mile drive from St. Louis. The guide book calls it was one of the best hiking trails in the state to demonstrate many aspects of Ozarks landscape, including the limestone carvings and the dark, moist canyons. The book also said the loop would be about 2 miles, which seemed like a good length for a sunny afternoon.

Once I got there, I also found it had been raining, hard, for about a week and the ground was soft, and wet, and piled high with slippery leaves. Worse, though the trail is only about 2 miles, it has some very steep portions, narrow at times, and bordering on cliffs and filled with rocks and uncertain footing.

However, it is also one of the richest hikes I’ve been on in the last couple of years, featuring limestone, rare ferns in deep woods, waterfalls, and Missouri’s only native pine.

The dead of winter is now on us, and there wasn’t another living creature around, other than a few hearty spiders. Walking in Missouri forests in the winter is such a change from summer, when the life can bear down on you from all sides. As much as I enjoy the Missouri green, I like walking in the winter, when the leaves are dropped and you can see the hills. And there’s fewer people about.

Wednesday, though, the complete lack of any sound except for creek, waterfall, and the crackle of dead leaves underfoot was unnerving. That combined with the dark, shallow caves carved into the limestone all around made me feel oddly uncomfortable.

I think the effect was heightened by the trouble I was having with the footing. The path is so narrow that the sign at the trailhead points people in the direction to take, forming a one-way flow of traffic. But the drawing at the trailhead promised so much if I continued – carved limestone, waterfalls, bridges and outlooks. And then there was The Slot.

The Slot was a crack within the ground, bounded by limestone carved by a trickle of water that runs through it. You walk through this crack, the walls blocking the view from either side. The way going is narrow and covered in lichen; dark and wet, with very muddy footing from the rains.

I’ve walked through cracks in cliffs before, but never a crack in the ground; not with dark and hidden pockets just out of view, against a background of damp, dripping cold. I started to pass through but stopped, just after entering, and couldn’t continue. There is this little primeval monkey in the back of my mind that beats its tiny hands against my skull, screaming out in terror when faced with the unknown. Though I can usually calm the monkey without much trouble–throwing millennia of evolution at it until its cries are smothered by reason–sometimes the monkey wins.

Of course, I tell myself that it was only common sense that ruled my decision. After all, there was that mud, there was the slippery footing, and there was the lateness of the day; not to mention not having told my roommate where I was hiking, in case I did become injured. But I can give all the excuses in the world – it was still the monkey.

To heck with the rules that say to walk one way. The other way didn’t have any dark and gloomy cracks, but it did have limestone cliffs along a creek, carved out from time and standing like sentries overhead. They were magnificent.

At one end of the canyon at the bottom of the trail is a creek, and a small waterfall. It was exquisite, made more so by being so delicate and light. No rushing water here, just the gentle drop of water from the top of the cliff to the ground below.

There was a hollowed out area around the bottom, and light grey sand at the bottom. Lining the walls were ferns that filled all the crannies in the rock. From an online guide, I found that wild azaleas and other flowers join the ferns in the Spring and Summer. It must seem like a land out of time when in full growth.

I walked until I reached what was known as the Boulder, and followed what I thought was the path, but reached some steep rocks that I definitely knew I wasn’t up for Wednesday. I was disappointed, though – I’d only managed a little over a mile of the trail, about two miles round trip. The footing wasn’t that bad; this was a level 4 hike, not a 5.

Perhaps the monkey is winning more than I realize–another aspect of getting older I have to come to terms with, like bad knees and a soft butt. Maybe next week, I’ll bring bananas with me. I’ve heard that potassium in bananas is good for the nerves.

Categories
Weblogging

Kitchen was hacked

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

The IT Kitchen was badly hacked. I had thought I had set the user permissions up so that this couldn’t occur, but obviously not.

Due to this, the Kitchen is closed, probably permanently.

I found the problem that led to the unusability – the siteurl had been changed in the database. This should not have been editable by any of the accounts on the site but admin, so not sure where the ‘hole’ is. I’ll review the logfile.

WordPress users note–critical bug found

This is a vulnerability in 1.21.2.1 WordPress weblogs in addition to 1.3a, as has been noted here with a possible workaround, fix.

This isn’t a hack, as it is a serious bug in the code impacting on both 1.2.1 and 1.3 users. I’m still reading through the notes on this, but I’ve commented out the offending line in the wp-login.php file and we’ll see if that works for now–at least until the WordPress developers respond with something.

What seems to be happening is if the site request differs from the URL contained in the options table, WordPress attempts to ‘fix’ the problem, by making a modification of the URL. So it would seem that if someone tried to login using http://www.itkitchen.info, rather than http://itkitchen.info, under the right circumstance, this literally broke the site.

There seems to be an .htaccess fix, but I removed the line that ‘attempted to fix’ the value – because that’s a scary damn line to have in an exposed file like this.

 

Final Update

This was either a deliberate exploitation of a known WordPress vulnerability, or a bizarre case of cookies gone mad.

If you type something like the following at IT Kitchen, before I took out the update. you would break the site:

http://www.itkitchen.info/wp-login.php/wp-content/themes/kubrick/style.css

That’s it; that’s all you need to do. Just that – not a damn thing else. You don’t need an account, a user login, nothing. Just that URL. What triggered this is that http://www.itkitchen.info is not the same url as http://itkitchen.info. But what made it devestating was the addition of wp-content material. This makes it so that the site breaks completely.

Now, it’s easily fixed. Just do something like the following:

http://itkitchen.info/wp-login.php

This resets it back correctly.

I am pretty sure that no matter how you protect your site with .htaccess rules, I can easily hack your site in this way. Find the following line in wp-login.php and remove it:

if ( dirname(’http://’ . $_SERVER[’HTTP_HOST’] . $_SERVER[’REQUEST_URI’]) != get_settings(’siteurl’) )
update_option(’siteurl’, dirname(’http://’ . $_SERVER[’HTTP_HOST’] . $_SERVER[’REQUEST_URI’]) );