Backpacking in the Lost Coast

The Lost Coast is an 80 mile stretch of the California coast where the builders of Highway 1 decided to go around because it was too rough. That saved this area from humans and this beautiful trail continues to offer an unadulterated taste of the nature. In this post I am describing the experience of my maiden 24 mile backpacking trip that we did in November, 2013.

It was 25th November and I still didn't have any plans for the Thanksgiving long weekend starting on the 28th. I had thought earlier that I would use this weekend to work on my CS 229 project and assignment, but as the weekend came nearer, I realized I had enough time to do both. Abhijit also encouraged me that there was still some time before the quarter ends and I should go do something. Byron invited me to join him for the backpacking trip he and Hans had planned. Since I hadn't been backpacking, I thought this would be a unique experience and promptly said yes without much thought. Byron sent me a link to Marc's hike description and it seemed pretty easy.

Later that evening, I met Gurmeet for dinner and told him cheerfully that I was going backpacking to the lost coast. It didn't take him much to realize I was totally underprepared. He told me it was one of the top rated hikes in the Northern America but also one of the most difficult. He introduced me to another Googler who had done the hike a few years ago and meeting him confirmed that I was in for some serious challenges. Googling more about "Lost Coast in December" sent a chill down my spine when various blogs and forums mentioned heavy rains, landslides and flash floods and not to mention bears, snakes and other wildlife. Thankfully for us, the weather prediction for the weekend was bright and sunny. I was sure that in the best case, this was going to be a painful but rewarding experience. I wasn't very sure what to do, and then I thought:

Everything worth doing is going to be difficult. The question you should be asking is not if it is difficult or not, but if it's worth facing the difficulties.

So in the next two days, I read more about backpacking tips and hiking in lost coast and gathered all the necessary equipments. This was one of the wettest place in California and since it was almost December, it was going to be quite cold too. I didn't have hiking boots and since it was already too late to break in new ones, I decided to take my chances with my non-waterproof running shoes. It was not supposed to rain afterall, so I thought I should be fine. Later on, they got wet in the very 1st hour while crossing a stream. Thankfully, it wasn't much of an annoyance.

Now comes the packing. I packed the tent, first aid and my warm clothes in the seemingly small backpack and it suddenly became quite large. There was no place left for the bear canister and food, but I thought we would figure it out later before starting the hike. Now I try to lift the backpack and it wouldn't move at all. After putting all my energy in doing so, I manage to lift it but I feel some pain in my back.

I said to myself, what have I gotten myself into. I have trouble lifting the backpack, how will I even walk with this thing. But it was too late to back out, there was only one way: forward.

So the next day, we drove through the dense beautiful redwoods and reached the trailhead at around noon. It was much warmer than I had expected. So I took a gamble and decide to leave some warm clothes in the car so as to make the backpack lighter. This was a bit risky as we were going to be next to the ocean for the 3 days and temperatures could drop suddenly because of the strong winds. Overall, it turned out to be a right decision.

Now begins the hike, I somehow manage to lift the backpack and I can feel that my back isn't very happy, but it can survive for a while. The hike was going to be along the ocean, which meant we were going to walk on the sandy ( and rocky, as we would find out later ) beach for a long long time. Walking on sand with a 30 pound backpack was excruciating and every step would feel like a small battle with my thighs hurting.

I said to myself, what have I gotten myself into. I have trouble walking even in the beginning, how will I complete the 24 miles. But it was too late to back out, there was only one way: forward.

I diverted my mind away from the pain reeling in the entire body, towards the beautiful mountains to our left and the mighty roaring Pacific to our right and the sound of wind from back rushing past my ears. It was a futile effort. 

Pretty soon we came across the Punta Gonda lighthouse. I wanted to drop my backpack and see it, but evening was soon approaching and we had to cross a narrow beach section before the tides block it.

After an hour or so, we were now walking on the mountains. It felt much better than walking on the beach sand, but there were quite a few places where the trail was quite close to the steep cliff and one slip of foot, coupled with reduced control because of a heavy backpack would send you off the cliff.

Eventually, the sun set around 5pm and it was beginning to become dark. We crossed a small fresh water stream and came across a flat terrain on a mountain. About 200 feet from us, there were 4 flat rocks in front of us in the ocean and it was full of sea lions. This area was called The Sea Lion creek.  This seemed like a decent place for camping. Hans started preparing for dinner, Byron and I fetched water. Hans made delicious chole and rice. Since it wasn't very cold, Hans and Byron wanted to sleep in the open (in the sleeping bag of course) and not set up a tent as it would save us some time in the morning. Since I had never slept in a tent, I was really looking forward to it. But I thought, I could do it the next day. Hans made some delicious chai and we called it a night. End of day 1 and it wasn't so bad after all. I felt I could do it for the next two days. I stared at the beautiful star studded night sky. This reminded me of the time when as a kid, during summers, we used to sleep on the roof of our house to beat the heat. Ah.. long time...

Next day we woke up to some breathtaking views. There were some powerful high tides of pacific in front of us. As we were drinking the morning chai, we could see the fierce waves rising high as if trying to reach the top of the cliff we were camping on. The sea lions were still holding their fort strong, although occasional waves would wash them off their rocks and then they would again nonchalantly crawl back up.

We packed our stuff and started again on our path. We had a long ground to cover today. We wanted to reach the 12 mile point today as we had to return the next day. After navigating our way through some mountains, the trail eventually led us back to the beach. This time it was different though. It was a rocky beach. Turns out, walking on rocks is even more difficult than on sand. If the rocks are small, they would be unstable and can throw your balance off. If they are big, you spend a lot of energy in stepping up and down them. A heavy backpack multiplies the  difficulty by 10x. We walked on the beach for what seemed like an eternity. I stumbled twice, my ankle twisted once but thankfully nothing major happened. I was totally drained out of energy.

Then came a crossing which I had read about. The beach there was very narrow and waves were reaching till the end. You have to time your start and cross it quickly to avoid getting wet. We managed to do that successfully. Eventually we came to 8 mile point and the campground we were looking for. It was the broad opening of a stream right before it merges in the ocean. There was a raised platform next to it and looked like a decent place to spend the night. It was about 3pm. We left our bags there and marched ahead to get to the halfway point. Now without the backpack, I felt as if I was flying. My arms would just raise with the wind. It felt really nice.

We came back to our campsite by the evening and started collecting firewoods for a campfire. Then Byron and I tried to set up my tent but it turned out to be very complicated. We gave up on it and since the weather was still pretty warm, we decided to sleep in the open in our sleeping bags. Byron and I started the campfire while Hans prepared pasta. It had been a really long day and warmth from the fire felt really good. We burnt pretty much any dry piece of wood we could find and kept the fire alive for about 2 hrs. Then, we went to the sandy bed and starry roof and it was the end of day 2. I congratulated myself for being strong thus far.

The next day we woke up to the usual high tide. But today, they didn't seem to settle. We waited till 12 pm before we could walk out of our campground as its opening was closed by the high waves. We were hoping to be back at the parking lot by 4 pm but we now had a much delayed start. Plus while going back, we were going to face very strong wind currents. It was going to be a difficult route.

We passed through the same rocky sections, but they made us much less miserable this time. At around 3 we were at our 1st day's campsite. This was a good sign. We had travelled much faster today, I am not sure what the reason was: lesser food to carry or the fear of getting trapped there during the night. Finally we came to the abandoned lighthouse and this marked that we had crossed all the tidal crossing points. I dropped my backpack and ran up to the old structure. I took the rusty iron stares in it to reach the top. Standing there, I felt myself as a part of mankind's eternal desire to explore. I somehow felt I have been here always.

I stared at the immersive ocean for a while and then closed my eyes and let myself soak into it.

We walked about a mile more and could sense that the parking lot was quite close. Hans and I decide to run. This was the very sand on which were struggling to walk on the first day and now we were running on it.

It's amazing how much we are capable of. The only way to find out, is to put ourselves through it.

This entire trip had been an amazing experience. I had learnt so much about myself.

Thanks Byron and Hans for planning this and inviting me to join you. 

The Ten Suggestions: Ben Bernanke's graduation address at Princeton

Speech courtesy Fed reserve.

It's nice to be back at Princeton. I find it difficult to believe that it's been almost 11 years since I departed these halls for Washington. I wrote recently to inquire about the status of my leave from the university, and the letter I got back began, "Regrettably, Princeton receives many more qualified applicants for faculty positions than we can accommodate." 

I'll extend my best wishes to the seniors later, but first I want to congratulate the parents and families here. As a parent myself, I know that putting your kid through college these days is no walk in the park. Some years ago I had a colleague who sent three kids through Princeton even though neither he nor his wife attended this university. He and his spouse were very proud of that accomplishment, as they should have been. But my colleague also used to say that, from a financial perspective, the experience was like buying a new Cadillac every year and then driving it off a cliff. I should say that he always added that he would do it all over again in a minute. So, well done, moms, dads, and families.

This is indeed an impressive and appropriate setting for a commencement. I am sure that, from this lectern, any number of distinguished spiritual leaders have ruminated on the lessons of the Ten Commandments. I don't have that kind of confidence, and, anyway, coveting your neighbor's ox or donkey is not the problem it used to be, so I thought I would use my few minutes today to make Ten Suggestions, or maybe just Ten Observations, about the world and your lives after Princeton. Please note, these points have nothing whatsoever to do with interest rates. My qualification for making such suggestions, or observations, besides having kindly been invited to speak today by President Tilghman, is the same as the reason that your obnoxious brother or sister got to go to bed later--I am older than you. All of what follows has been road-tested in real-life situations, but past performance is no guarantee of future results.

1. The poet Robert Burns once said something about the best-laid plans of mice and men ganging aft agley, whatever "agley" means. A more contemporary philosopher, Forrest Gump, said something similar about life and boxes of chocolates and not knowing what you are going to get. They were both right. Life is amazingly unpredictable; any 22-year-old who thinks he or she knows where they will be in 10 years, much less in 30, is simply lacking imagination. Look what happened to me: A dozen years ago I was minding my own business teaching Economics 101 in Alexander Hall and trying to think of good excuses for avoiding faculty meetings. Then I got a phone call . . . In case you are skeptical of Forrest Gump's insight, here's a concrete suggestion for each of the graduating seniors. Take a few minutes the first chance you get and talk to an alum participating in his or her 25th, or 30th, or 40th reunion--you know, somebody who was near the front of the P-rade. Ask them, back when they were graduating 25, 30, or 40 years ago, where they expected to be today. If you can get them to open up, they will tell you that today they are happy and satisfied in various measures, or not, and their personal stories will be filled with highs and lows and in-betweens. But, I am willing to bet, those life stories will in almost all cases be quite different, in large and small ways, from what they expected when they started out. This is a good thing, not a bad thing; who wants to know the end of a story that's only in its early chapters? Don't be afraid to let the drama play out.

2. Does the fact that our lives are so influenced by chance and seemingly small decisions and actions mean that there is no point to planning, to striving? Not at all. Whatever life may have in store for you, each of you has a grand, lifelong project, and that is the development of yourself as a human being. Your family and friends and your time at Princeton have given you a good start. What will you do with it? Will you keep learning and thinking hard and critically about the most important questions? Will you become an emotionally stronger person, more generous, more loving, more ethical? Will you involve yourself actively and constructively in the world? Many things will happen in your lives, pleasant and not so pleasant, but, paraphrasing a Woodrow Wilson School adage from the time I was here, "Wherever you go, there you are." If you are not happy with yourself, even the loftiest achievements won't bring you much satisfaction.

3. The concept of success leads me to consider so-called meritocracies and their implications. We have been taught that meritocratic institutions and societies are fair. Putting aside the reality that no system, including our own, is really entirely meritocratic, meritocracies may be fairer and more efficient than some alternatives. But fair in an absolute sense? Think about it. A meritocracy is a system in which the people who are the luckiest in their health and genetic endowment; luckiest in terms of family support, encouragement, and, probably, income; luckiest in their educational and career opportunities; and luckiest in so many other ways difficult to enumerate--these are the folks who reap the largest rewards. The only way for even a putative meritocracy to hope to pass ethical muster, to be considered fair, is if those who are the luckiest in all of those respects also have the greatest responsibility to work hard, to contribute to the betterment of the world, and to share their luck with others. As the Gospel of Luke says (and I am sure my rabbi will forgive me for quoting the New Testament in a good cause): "From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required; and from the one to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be demanded" (Luke 12:48, New Revised Standard Version Bible). Kind of grading on the curve, you might say.

4. Who is worthy of admiration? The admonition from Luke--which is shared by most ethical and philosophical traditions, by the way--helps with this question as well. Those most worthy of admiration are those who have made the best use of their advantages or, alternatively, coped most courageously with their adversities. I think most of us would agree that people who have, say, little formal schooling but labor honestly and diligently to help feed, clothe, and educate their families are deserving of greater respect--and help, if necessary--than many people who are superficially more successful. They're more fun to have a beer with, too. That's all that I know about sociology.

5. Since I have covered what I know about sociology, I might as well say something about political science as well. In regard to politics, I have always liked Lily Tomlin's line, in paraphrase: "I try to be cynical, but I just can't keep up." We all feel that way sometime. Actually, having been in Washington now for almost 11 years, as I mentioned, I feel that way quite a bit. Ultimately, though, cynicism is a poor substitute for critical thought and constructive action. Sure, interests and money and ideology all matter, as you learned in political science. But my experience is that most of our politicians and policymakers are trying to do the right thing, according to their own views and consciences, most of the time. If you think that the bad or indifferent results that too often come out of Washington are due to base motives and bad intentions, you are giving politicians and policymakers way too much credit for being effective. Honest error in the face of complex and possibly intractable problems is a far more important source of bad results than are bad motives. For these reasons, the greatest forces in Washington are ideas, and people prepared to act on those ideas. Public service isn't easy. But, in the end, if you are inclined in that direction, it is a worthy and challenging pursuit.

6. Having taken a stab at sociology and political science, let me wrap up economics while I'm at it. Economics is a highly sophisticated field of thought that is superb at explaining to policymakers precisely why the choices they made in the past were wrong. About the future, not so much. However, careful economic analysis does have one important benefit, which is that it can help kill ideas that are completely logically inconsistent or wildly at variance with the data. This insight covers at least 90 percent of proposed economic policies.

7. I'm not going to tell you that money doesn't matter, because you wouldn't believe me anyway. In fact, for too many people around the world, money is literally a life-or-death proposition. But if you are part of the lucky minority with the ability to choose, remember that money is a means, not an end. A career decision based only on money and not on love of the work or a desire to make a difference is a recipe for unhappiness.

8. Nobody likes to fail but failure is an essential part of life and of learning. If your uniform isn't dirty, you haven't been in the game.

9. I spoke earlier about definitions of personal success in an unpredictable world. I hope that as you develop your own definition of success, you will be able to do so, if you wish, with a close companion on your journey. In making that choice, remember that physical beauty is evolution's way of assuring us that the other person doesn't have too many intestinal parasites. Don't get me wrong, I am all for beauty, romance, and sexual attraction--where would Hollywood and Madison Avenue be without them? But while important, those are not the only things to look for in a partner. The two of you will have a long trip together, I hope, and you will need each other's support and sympathy more times than you can count. Speaking as somebody who has been happily married for 35 years, I can't imagine any choice more consequential for a lifelong journey than the choice of a traveling companion.

10. Call your mom and dad once in a while. A time will come when you will want your own grown-up, busy, hyper-successful children to call you. Also, remember who paid your tuition to Princeton.

Those are my suggestions. They're probably worth exactly what you paid for them. But they come from someone who shares your affection for this great institution and who wishes you the best for the future.

Congratulations, graduates. Give 'em hell.

Highlights from "The Black Swan: The Impact of the Highly Improbable"

I recently read the book "The Black Swan: The Impact of the Highly Improbable" by Nassim Nicholas Taleb. It was overall an interesting read, though I found some sections about the black swan events to be overly repetitive. I am told that "Fooled by Randomness: The Hidden Role of Chance in Life and in the Markets" is a better book and I am looking forward to reading it once I clear my current stack of books! 

Anyhow, here are some excerpts from the book that I enjoyed reading and thought of making a note:


On money:

Money allows you to act like Victorian gentleman, free from slavery. It is a psychological buffer: the capital is not so large as to make you spoiled-rich, but large enough to give you the freedom to choose a new occupation without excessive consideration of the financial rewards. It shields you from prostituting your mind and frees you from outside authority--any outside authority.


On career: 

Invest in profession that is scalable, that is, one in which you are not paid by the hours and thus subject to the limitation of the amount of your labour. 

In unscalable professions, no matter how highly paid, your income is subject to gravity. Your revenue depends on your continuous efforts more than on the quality of your decisions. Moreover, this kind of work is largely predictable: it will vary, but not to the point of making the income of a single day more significant than that of the rest of your life. Doctor, baker, prostitute are all example of unscalable careers.

On the contrary, intellectual products need to be created only once, and can be sold many times over. Writer, speculator, fraudster are all example of scalable careers - the output is not limited by the number of hours, but the quality of ideas.

But be beware of the scalable. A scalable profession is good only if you are successful; they are more competitive, produce monstrous inequalities, and are far more random with huge disparities between efforts and rewards — a few can take a large share of the pie, leaving others out entirely at no fault of their own.

One category of profession is driven by the mediocre, the average, and the middle-of-the-road. In it, the mediocre is collectively consequential. The other has either giants or dwarves — more precisely, a very small number of giants and a huge number of dwarves.


On history: 

The importance of silent evidence

“Diagoras, a nonbeliever in the Gods, was shown painted tablets bearing the portraits of some worshippers who prayed, then survived a subsequent shipwreck. The implication was that praying protects you from drowning. Diagoras asked, ‘Where were the pictures of those who prayed, then drowned?’”

Numerous studies of millionaires aimed at figuring out the skills required for hotshotness follow the following methodology. They take a population of hotshots, those with big titles and big jobs, and study their attributes. They look at what those big guns have in common: courage, risk taking, optimism, and so on, and infer that these traits, most notably risk taking, help you to become successful. You would also probably get the same impression if you read CEO's ghostwritten autobiographies or attended their presentations to fawning MBA students.

Now take a look at the cemetery. It is quite difficult to do so because people who fail do not seem to write memoirs, and, if they did, those business publishers I know would not even consider giving them the courtesy of a returned phone call. Readers would not pay $26.95 for a story of failure, even if you convinced them that it had more useful tricks than a story of success. The entire notion of biography is grounded in the arbitrary ascription of a causal relation between specified traits and subsequent events. Now consider the cemetery. The graveyard of failed persons will be full of people who shared the following traits: courage, risk taking, optimism, et cetera. Just like the population of millionaires. There may be some differences in skills, but what truly separates the two is for the most part a single factor: luck. Plain luck."


On risk :

The uncertainty of the Nerd
In real world, life threatening risks come from things that are not modelled. A casino runs more risk outside where the probabilities are unknown as compared to inside where they know their odds.


On life:

You have far more control over your life if you decide on your criterion by yourself. Be aggressive; be the one to resign, if you have the guts.

But all these ideas, all this philosophy of induction, all these problems with knowledge, all these wild opportunities and scary possible losses, everything palls in front of the following metaphysical consideration. I am sometimes taken aback by how people can have a miserable day or get angry because they feel cheated by a bad meal, cold coffee, a social rebuff, or a rude reception. Recall my discussion in Chapter 8 on the difficulty in seeing the true odds of the events that run your own life. We are quick to forget that just being alive is an extraordinary piece of good luck, a remote event, a chance occurrence of monstrous proportions.  Imagine a speck of dust next to a planet a billion times the size of the earth. The speck of dust represents the odds in favor of your being born; the huge planet would be the odds against it. So stop sweating the small stuff. Don’t be like the ingrate who got a castle as a present and worried about the mildew in the bathroom. Stop looking the gift horse in the mouth—remember that you are a Black Swan.


Special thanks to the Mountain View Public Library, for introducing me to so many wonderful books!

Turning Lemonades into Helicopters

Today, I was reading "Tina Seelig's book What I Wish I Knew When I Was 20" and I came across this story:

"Being observant, open-minded, friendly, and optimistic invites luck your way. Take this simple story: several years ago I was at a small local grocery store frequented mostly by those who live nearby. A man and his young daughter approached me in the frozen-food aisle and politely asked how to prepare frozen, canned lemonade. The man had an accent I couldn’t identify, and I was pretty sure he must be new to the area. I told him how to prepare the lemonade and asked where he was from. He said Santiago, Chile. I asked his name and what brought him to our town. I had no ulterior motive. I was just curious. He told me his name was Eduardo and that he and his family were in the area for a year so he could learn about entrepreneurship in Silicon Valley. He was in line to run his family’s business and was in search of tools to make it more innovative. I told him about the entrepreneurship program at Stanford’s School of Engineering and said I’d be happy to do what I could to be of help. Over the next few months I introduced Eduardo to various people in the entrepreneurship community, and he expressed his thanks for my assistance.

Fast-forward two years. I was heading for a conference in Santiago and sent Eduardo a message asking if he wanted to get together for coffee. At the last minute, he wasn’t able to make it, but invited me to go to a specific location in downtown Santiago with a few of my colleagues. We showed up at the office building and were led to the roof, where we were picked up by Eduardo’s family’s private helicopter for a simply spectacular ride above the city, up to the surrounding mountains, and over his family’s ski resort. It was incredible! And to think that it resulted from helping him figure out how to make lemonade. Of course, I didn’t help Eduardo because I wanted a helicopter ride. But by putting myself out there, being open to helping someone, and following up years later, I became quite “lucky.” Earlier I discuss the art of turning lemons (problems) into lemonade (opportunities). But luck goes beyond this—it’s about turning lemonade (good things) into helicopters (amazing things!)."

This made me think about my own life, and to my surprise a lot of important things like my first job, internship in Paris were in fact a result of randomly bumping into someone and keeping contact with them without any expectations which later brought opportunities. 

In contrast, a lot of times I have cold emailed people who I didn't know asking for help. Friends say that I am good at it. Most of the times I got what I was looking for with these cold emails. These conversations (lets call them CCs for cold conversations) were different from the lemonade conversations (LCs) in the following ways:

1. CCs are primarily about asking, LCs are about giving. CCs involve knowing who am I, what I seek; LCs are about finding what the other person's story is, how can I help them.

2. CCs are more focussed and limited in scope, in the sense that you can only ask what you know about. LCs, on the other hand, can expose you to ideas about which you had never thought about or things you didn't know exist.
3. CCs are low variance and more efficient - you either get what you asked for or you don't. LCs are more inefficient as most of them won't fetch you anything. But they have high variance too, so some of them could get you a lot more. This quora post by James Altchur is all about it.

I find LCs a key characteristic of successful people. LCs are powerful because:

1. They happen more frequently, even when you are not looking for them.

2. They can get you even what you are not looking for.

This idea is also strongly advocated in Reid Hoffman's book The startup of you (a must read book for everyone). They suggests that the best way of networking is to help others, sometimes even unasked. The network thus created are the strongest and can really change things for you.

Going forward, I will try to have more LCs!