This is the church business offices with the big clock in the top. There was a small garden in front.Friday, February 24, 2012
Church Clock
This is the church business offices with the big clock in the top. There was a small garden in front.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Snoqualmie Mountain ..
Sammy and I planned a day of climbing something for Sunday and we didn't want it to be too intense. After throwing around a few ideas we settled on Snoqualmie Mountain. I have never been up it, and Sammy had when there was no snow, so it would be a new experience for both of us.
We arrived in the Alpental parking lot a little after 7am and were discussing our route options. Sammy was originally thinking to come up the Commonwealth Basin and then access Snoqualmie from Cave Ridge. We had both done that approach for winter ascents of Guye Peak. The guidebooks tell a tale of going up the trail to Cave Ridge from the Alpental Parking lot. I suggested we try something new and if it went, the distance was a whole lot shorter than circumnavigating Guye Peak.
From the parking lot we picked a high spot below a tree band that we would go up and assess the conditions to see if we could continue upward. We figured on twenty minutes to that point and potentially leaving us with enough time to come down and try the other route if this one did not go.
We entered the snow at the "Transceiver Training Area" and started to head up. Within five minutes it seemed like we were half way to the trees. Then the slope got steeper. Sammy and I stayed in some tree where we were following steps and we felt the snow was a little better. It was still before 8am and the sun was not hitting the slopes and the snow was hard and icy. We wondered why we brought snow shoes and contemplated stashing them. I said it would be a guarantee that we would be in waist deep snow later if we cached them now, so we kept them on our packs. This was Sammy's first time on steep snow this season and he was not feeling great about the snow climbing and lagged behind me a bit. I broke out of our stretch of trees and waited for him at a final tree in a more level area before we were to make the push to the trees above to see if the route went.
At this point, Sammy was having reservations about climbing the steep snow. But we agreed to go to the trees to see if the climbing became less difficult. Since we were on more level terrain, we donned crampons at this time. That decision gave both of us a little confidence boost to make the trees.
Nearing the trees, I went ahead of Sammy to check out the situation. I had to cross a moat with a small ice bridge with the help of an alder grab and then front point up steep solid snow into the woods. I stopped below a fallen log. While I thought the terrain looked easier above the log, I did not see any easy ways around it that did not involve minimal snow on rock or other loose terrain. I relayed the information to Sammy who made the decision to descend.
Sammy downclimbed facing in while I attempted to get out of the trees without having to downclimb over the small moat I came up over. It took me a while to reach Sammy after he returned to the more level area where we had put crampons on. At this point we had probably burned too much time to attempt via the Commonwealth Basin.
Fortunately due to our time wasting, the temps were a little warmer even if the sun was now obscured by clouds. Sammy got a new dose of confidence and started to traverse the slope to our left. Before we knew it, we were following another boot path up into the trees and feeling like we might still have a chance at the summit. At a minimum we were hoping to gain Cave Ridge and get a view.
Then we followed the the boot path to ice. There was about an eight foot stretch of maybe 40° ice. I started to chop steps into it. I made some moves with my left foot on rock and my right on ice. I had to swing my ax just to get the pick in and inch. A few moves up I questioned what I was doing, and Sammy and I set about to find another option up. Sammy set out on a traverse left while I tried a section directly above us. Neither was going to go without spicy moves on thin snow over moats and wet rock with significant shrub pulling only to get onto a similar steep hard snow slope. All the while considering how we would get back down once we got around the obstacle. After checking four options around the ice patch we finally decided to head back to the car. We down climbed through the woods back out to the open slope where the sun was shining and the snow already quite soft. We removed our crampons and plunge stepped our way back to the car.
Sammy nearing our high point
Before the plunge step down, I told Sammy it was our hubris that caused our failure. While perhaps an exaggeration, we both had underestimated this climb and had full expectation of reaching the summit. This expectation of easy climbing affected me (at least) in regards to my head space when the going got difficult. Climbing when not in an ideal head space is taxing, and not why I go out.
The plunge step out
I usually say that you learn more from a no summit climb than from a climb where the summit is achieved. On the way down and in the car we discussed things we took away from this. One was that we waited too long to put crampons on. I guess we succumbed to the boiling frog issue on that one. Because we underestimated the climb and snow conditions, we did not bring second tools or steel crampons, not to mention helmets or any type of rope.
Overall we had a fun time and joked about the situation throughout. It was great attempting a climb with Sammy and now I'll have a better idea for the next time I give Snoqualmie Mountain a go.
We arrived in the Alpental parking lot a little after 7am and were discussing our route options. Sammy was originally thinking to come up the Commonwealth Basin and then access Snoqualmie from Cave Ridge. We had both done that approach for winter ascents of Guye Peak. The guidebooks tell a tale of going up the trail to Cave Ridge from the Alpental Parking lot. I suggested we try something new and if it went, the distance was a whole lot shorter than circumnavigating Guye Peak.
From the parking lot we picked a high spot below a tree band that we would go up and assess the conditions to see if we could continue upward. We figured on twenty minutes to that point and potentially leaving us with enough time to come down and try the other route if this one did not go.
We entered the snow at the "Transceiver Training Area" and started to head up. Within five minutes it seemed like we were half way to the trees. Then the slope got steeper. Sammy and I stayed in some tree where we were following steps and we felt the snow was a little better. It was still before 8am and the sun was not hitting the slopes and the snow was hard and icy. We wondered why we brought snow shoes and contemplated stashing them. I said it would be a guarantee that we would be in waist deep snow later if we cached them now, so we kept them on our packs. This was Sammy's first time on steep snow this season and he was not feeling great about the snow climbing and lagged behind me a bit. I broke out of our stretch of trees and waited for him at a final tree in a more level area before we were to make the push to the trees above to see if the route went.
At this point, Sammy was having reservations about climbing the steep snow. But we agreed to go to the trees to see if the climbing became less difficult. Since we were on more level terrain, we donned crampons at this time. That decision gave both of us a little confidence boost to make the trees.
Nearing the trees, I went ahead of Sammy to check out the situation. I had to cross a moat with a small ice bridge with the help of an alder grab and then front point up steep solid snow into the woods. I stopped below a fallen log. While I thought the terrain looked easier above the log, I did not see any easy ways around it that did not involve minimal snow on rock or other loose terrain. I relayed the information to Sammy who made the decision to descend.
Sammy downclimbed facing in while I attempted to get out of the trees without having to downclimb over the small moat I came up over. It took me a while to reach Sammy after he returned to the more level area where we had put crampons on. At this point we had probably burned too much time to attempt via the Commonwealth Basin.
Fortunately due to our time wasting, the temps were a little warmer even if the sun was now obscured by clouds. Sammy got a new dose of confidence and started to traverse the slope to our left. Before we knew it, we were following another boot path up into the trees and feeling like we might still have a chance at the summit. At a minimum we were hoping to gain Cave Ridge and get a view.
Then we followed the the boot path to ice. There was about an eight foot stretch of maybe 40° ice. I started to chop steps into it. I made some moves with my left foot on rock and my right on ice. I had to swing my ax just to get the pick in and inch. A few moves up I questioned what I was doing, and Sammy and I set about to find another option up. Sammy set out on a traverse left while I tried a section directly above us. Neither was going to go without spicy moves on thin snow over moats and wet rock with significant shrub pulling only to get onto a similar steep hard snow slope. All the while considering how we would get back down once we got around the obstacle. After checking four options around the ice patch we finally decided to head back to the car. We down climbed through the woods back out to the open slope where the sun was shining and the snow already quite soft. We removed our crampons and plunge stepped our way back to the car.
Sammy nearing our high pointBefore the plunge step down, I told Sammy it was our hubris that caused our failure. While perhaps an exaggeration, we both had underestimated this climb and had full expectation of reaching the summit. This expectation of easy climbing affected me (at least) in regards to my head space when the going got difficult. Climbing when not in an ideal head space is taxing, and not why I go out.
The plunge step outI usually say that you learn more from a no summit climb than from a climb where the summit is achieved. On the way down and in the car we discussed things we took away from this. One was that we waited too long to put crampons on. I guess we succumbed to the boiling frog issue on that one. Because we underestimated the climb and snow conditions, we did not bring second tools or steel crampons, not to mention helmets or any type of rope.
Overall we had a fun time and joked about the situation throughout. It was great attempting a climb with Sammy and now I'll have a better idea for the next time I give Snoqualmie Mountain a go.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Trolling Around in 650B
While Surly offers a range of practical, attractive, versatile bikes that riders everywhere love, none of them I find particularly appealing. Instead, I seem to be drawn to their weirdest and most extreme creations: their fat tired monsters. So naturally, when I saw Susan's new Surly Troll, I was delighted. Sure, it wasn't a Pugsley, but it was nonetheless glorious.
The Troll is a 26" wheel steel mountain bike with clearances for 2.7" tires. Built with eyelets for fenders and racks, it can also be set up as a commuter or utility bike, as well as an off-road touring bike.
Susan built it up for all of the above, converting it to 650B while she was at it.
The tires are of course the 42mm Grand Bois Hetres. I realise now that I forgot to ask why Susan chose this wheel size, so normal it has become around these parts.
The Troll frame can be set up with cantilever/v-brakes or disc brakes - though I think the 650B conversion leaves only the latter option.
The Troll features interesting dropouts that I have not seen before. They are horizontal and resemble track ends, yet made with a derailleur hanger, making it possible to build the bike up with either hub or derailleur gearing.
Susan has the bike outfitted with fenders, the Tubus Fly rear rack,
the slightly swept back Metropolis handlebars,
dynamo lighting,
and one of those crazy super-bright headlights that point down to illuminate trails at night, powered by a battery pack.
There is something about the way this bike is set up that seriously excites me. I look at it, and I want to do "that" kind of riding, whatever that is. An overnight tour along pitch black dirt trails maybe?
Susan encouraged me to try the bike, and I did. The brief test ride proved to be surprisingly informative. The bike rode smoother than I expected.Very nice in fact. The Troll is not a lightweight bike, and it is not fast on the road. But it felt maneuverable in tight spaces and was not as difficult uphill as I expected. The stepover of the frame felt lower in practice than the images suggest, making it easy to hop off the bike without having to swing my leg over the back (I should note that I rode the bike with the saddle about an inch higher than shown here). There was no hint of toe overlap even with the 650B wheels. The disc brakes worked well, though I tried them in a very limited capacity.
The one drawback of this bike for me was the high bottom bracket (40mm BB drop on the frame), which made it difficult to get the saddle height where I wanted it. I like to be able to put a toe down when stopping without getting off the saddle, but the frame geometry + 650B conversion made that challenging to accomplish with full leg extension. However, I think that with the 26" wheels the bike was originally designed for, it should be okay. I could also try converting the Surly Ogre(a 700C version of the Troll) to 650B. Its 68mm BB drop should be just right for getting the saddle where I like it.
But of course I am just aimlessly fantasising here. I understand very little about mountain bikes and even less about their monster variations (still trying to figure out what exactly a suspension-corrected fork is). Still, I think that one excellent use for a machine like this could be as a winter bike. The Troll is not quite as extreme as a Pugsley, but neither is it as bulky. If fitted with 26" wheels and fat studded tires it could be just the thing for snowy Boston winters. With the frame priced at $500 MSRP, some strategic budget component choices could make for a fun and functional build.
Susan purchased her Troll frame fromHarris Cyclery, where she works as a custom fit specialist and lead salesperson. Naturally, she built it up herself, with parts she "had lying around." I hope she enjoys her cool new bike, and I thank her for letting me try it!
Monday, February 20, 2012
Observation Rock North Face ..
Happy 100th post!
Elevation Gain: 3800'
10 miles RT
Left car: 7:30 am
Summit: 3:00 pm
Back at car: 6:45 pm
11.25 hours car to car
GPS route and topo provided by John Banes. The GPS has us going 11.5 miles and 4332' of elevation gain.
Planned a climb for Observation Rock mid week to avoid the crowds and was joined by Adam, Rich and John. Adam, John and I drove down from Seattle and met Rich at the Mowich Lake Trail Head. We geared up and were off.
We were going to use the Knapsack Pass approach to the climb as I felt it may be faster, or at least shorter. It took a bit of finding near the ranger's cabin at Mowich Lake and then we were heading up the trail. It took us an hour to reach Knapsack Pass (where we took a short break) on a pretty good trail which continued down the other side for a bit. Around 6000', the trail disappeared into a boulder field. There were a few cairns and then nothing. We picked our way through the boulder field which was somewhat loose and arrived at a gully on the other side. We watched a herd of goats scramble up the hillside before we were able to skirt the top of the gully on a snowfield where we picked up a faint trail and continued down to the Wonderland Trail.
The hike down to the intersection of the Wonderland Trail took longer than expected. Once there, we turned left and went about a 1/4 mile up hill (steps mostly) to the turn off for Observation Rock. We got on the climber's trail and headed up. This trail too is longer than it appears, and we spent a good deal of time getting closer to Observation Rock. Once closer to our destination the trail peters out a bit and we had to pick our way through a few little bumps on the ridge to where we could leave the moraine and head to the base of the north face.
We stopped there to gear up as rockfall is always hazardous this time of year at the base. We geared up, and scrambled the last bit of loose rock to the base where we got pelted with small rocks falling.
Adam and John quickly started out on their respective leads while Rich and I dodged golf ball sized rocks at the base. Soon we were simul climbing and getting out of the bulk of rockfall danger. (Although it did not feel soon enough.) The climbing was generally lower angle and easy at first, and Rich and I did join our respective partners at the first belay.
I led out on the next pitch going up through some solid ice with running water on top. Then conditions changed to a hollow snice on top of who knows what. I ran up a section of this between two muddy sections flanking it and was able to place a screw at the top. I continued a bit further where there was a nice stance and decided to set a belay. (I thought about continuing, but the stance was too nice to pass up as a belay.) Rich had made it a bit farther than me over to my left, but his stance looked significantly less comfortable than mine. And I remember from last time I climbed Observation Rock, that I got tired at bad belay stances.
I started to bring Adam up right after a softball sized rock whizzed by within six feet of him. He made his way up to me where he complained that his calves were toast, but that didn't stop him from racking up to lead off on the final pitch. I instructed him to use the water grooves as good rests and to try to resist front pointing to save his calves.
Adam headed out trending rightward up the grooves until it was feasible for him to head straight up. It was around this point that we realized he wouldn't hit flat snow/ice with the amount of rope left. He was fortunate to get to significantly less steep terrain with a decent ledge to set up a belay. I headed up quickly as my heels were hurting from my boots and I was a bit dehydrated and wanted to drink and eat at the top. Once passed Adam, he tore down the belay and we headed closer to the rock wall in hopes of getting in the shade.
Due to the moat and the crumbling rock wall, we had to stay on the snow to remove our gear and eat lunch. Fortunately the partly cloudy part of the day was starting and we were occasionally gifted with clouds blocking the sun. We sat down and eat and drank for at least a half hour. I took off my boots and taped my ankles even though I am pretty sure I was not getting blisters. However, I had to do something as I was experiencing lots of discomfort. Adam took a brief nap. Then we packed up to head to the summit.
The hike to the summit was a little rough. Typical two steps up and one step back on loose pumice. At least the rock was small and light and you are less concerned about injury from it. Just below the summit we dropped our packs before the last bit. What a relief. We all agreed that not having a pack made uphill travel easier. (Thank you team obvious.) We lounged at the summit a bit before starting back down.
We picked our way around the summit to the descent plunge stepping into loose pumice and even skiing it a bit. We made a brief stop to filter some water. Then we made our way back down to another section of the Flett Glacier between Echo and Observation Rocks and started walking down it. It soon turned to ice and we put our crampons on for a speedier direct descent down the glacier. Around a rock outcropping we continued down the glacier until we could move left toward a snowfield and regain the rock. We continued with our crampons on through a loose rock band and then down another snowfield before taking our crampons off near a well developed bivy site.
We regained the trail and started our long trail walk back to Knapsack Pass. Once again the trail took longer than it seemed. (Perhaps because we could see the pass the whole time?) We returned to the intersection with the Wonderland Trail and proceeded to get on the trail to Knapsack Pass. Now on the trail we had less navigational issues as it was fairly easy to stay on trail. Although due to the lengthy feel of the hike, we had thought we were off route at one point, only to be confirmed on route by John's GPS. We continued until we hit the boulderfield where we initially took a higher crossing and moved through it a bit quicker. Nearing the trail on the other side of the boulders, we dropped lower to a cairn only to have to climb back up to the trail. Back on the trail we dispatched that last of our uphill hiking to take a brief break at the pass before dropping the 1200' down to Mowich Lake.
Overall this was a fun trip with a friend and some new people. The conditions of the climb were much worse than when I had previously climbed it in 2007. This time around the ice was dirtier, and there was more rockfall. (And we climbing in late September in '07.) This is probably due to the extremely warm summer we have been having. Another thing too was that the face seemed to be mostly lit. I remember having no sun on the face for the climb and being quite cold last time. This time I prepared for it, but the sun raced up the slope with us leaving me somewhat dehydrated after the technical portion. (I drank five liters of water throughout the day.) Temps were high and this led to a general discomfort on my part as I was expecting things to be a touch cooler above 7000' and in the shade.
I have to say while I don't know if the Knapsack Pass approach was any quicker, it was a more interesting way to go. The 3+ miles of trail to get to Spray Park are not boring, but are tedious on the return and don't provide much along the way of views on the way in. The alternate approach kept our interest and gave us good views of Mist Park and some light scrambling as well. Although it may not be specific to this approach, the goat herd(s) in the area were actually afraid of people which I guess means they are not acclimated and expect food etc. from us. This is a totally different experience than Washington Pass or Enchantments goats. Also, I presume if you wanted to, you could also summit Fay Peak on the way out if you had the energy.
Speaking of scrambling peaks, my original intent was to scramble Echo Rock after the Observation Rock climb. However, we were a little late, and my feet were acting up. Adam was also in the fourth day of climbing out of the last five and was pretty knackered. Upon getting a closer look at Echo and the route up it, I don't know if I'd ever scramble it as the rock just seems horribly loose and the terrain steep enough to incur death with a mishap. John made the comment that it was a giant cairn.
Another issue is what was happening with my boots. I had a hot spot on the way up to Knapsack Pass in the morning which I addressed, but it continued. I then got a hot spot on the other foot as well. I attempted different lacings and by the top of the ice climbing I was practically in pain. Surprisingly I had no blister, but soggy feet. I bandaged and taped them, but they still gave me discomfort on the way down. This is the first time I had experienced problems with this particular pair of boots. I thought it may be due to walking a long distance is a stiff boot. And I am not unwilling to rule out walking in warm temps in an insulated boot as a contributing factor. It could be that my feet haven't truly recovered from the Forbidden epic, and wearing boots is going to be uncomfortable for me for a while.
My pics are here.
Elevation Gain: 3800'
10 miles RT
Left car: 7:30 am
Summit: 3:00 pm
Back at car: 6:45 pm
11.25 hours car to car
GPS route and topo provided by John Banes. The GPS has us going 11.5 miles and 4332' of elevation gain.
Planned a climb for Observation Rock mid week to avoid the crowds and was joined by Adam, Rich and John. Adam, John and I drove down from Seattle and met Rich at the Mowich Lake Trail Head. We geared up and were off.
We were going to use the Knapsack Pass approach to the climb as I felt it may be faster, or at least shorter. It took a bit of finding near the ranger's cabin at Mowich Lake and then we were heading up the trail. It took us an hour to reach Knapsack Pass (where we took a short break) on a pretty good trail which continued down the other side for a bit. Around 6000', the trail disappeared into a boulder field. There were a few cairns and then nothing. We picked our way through the boulder field which was somewhat loose and arrived at a gully on the other side. We watched a herd of goats scramble up the hillside before we were able to skirt the top of the gully on a snowfield where we picked up a faint trail and continued down to the Wonderland Trail.
The hike down to the intersection of the Wonderland Trail took longer than expected. Once there, we turned left and went about a 1/4 mile up hill (steps mostly) to the turn off for Observation Rock. We got on the climber's trail and headed up. This trail too is longer than it appears, and we spent a good deal of time getting closer to Observation Rock. Once closer to our destination the trail peters out a bit and we had to pick our way through a few little bumps on the ridge to where we could leave the moraine and head to the base of the north face.
We stopped there to gear up as rockfall is always hazardous this time of year at the base. We geared up, and scrambled the last bit of loose rock to the base where we got pelted with small rocks falling.
Adam and John quickly started out on their respective leads while Rich and I dodged golf ball sized rocks at the base. Soon we were simul climbing and getting out of the bulk of rockfall danger. (Although it did not feel soon enough.) The climbing was generally lower angle and easy at first, and Rich and I did join our respective partners at the first belay.
I led out on the next pitch going up through some solid ice with running water on top. Then conditions changed to a hollow snice on top of who knows what. I ran up a section of this between two muddy sections flanking it and was able to place a screw at the top. I continued a bit further where there was a nice stance and decided to set a belay. (I thought about continuing, but the stance was too nice to pass up as a belay.) Rich had made it a bit farther than me over to my left, but his stance looked significantly less comfortable than mine. And I remember from last time I climbed Observation Rock, that I got tired at bad belay stances.
I started to bring Adam up right after a softball sized rock whizzed by within six feet of him. He made his way up to me where he complained that his calves were toast, but that didn't stop him from racking up to lead off on the final pitch. I instructed him to use the water grooves as good rests and to try to resist front pointing to save his calves.
Adam headed out trending rightward up the grooves until it was feasible for him to head straight up. It was around this point that we realized he wouldn't hit flat snow/ice with the amount of rope left. He was fortunate to get to significantly less steep terrain with a decent ledge to set up a belay. I headed up quickly as my heels were hurting from my boots and I was a bit dehydrated and wanted to drink and eat at the top. Once passed Adam, he tore down the belay and we headed closer to the rock wall in hopes of getting in the shade.
Due to the moat and the crumbling rock wall, we had to stay on the snow to remove our gear and eat lunch. Fortunately the partly cloudy part of the day was starting and we were occasionally gifted with clouds blocking the sun. We sat down and eat and drank for at least a half hour. I took off my boots and taped my ankles even though I am pretty sure I was not getting blisters. However, I had to do something as I was experiencing lots of discomfort. Adam took a brief nap. Then we packed up to head to the summit.
The hike to the summit was a little rough. Typical two steps up and one step back on loose pumice. At least the rock was small and light and you are less concerned about injury from it. Just below the summit we dropped our packs before the last bit. What a relief. We all agreed that not having a pack made uphill travel easier. (Thank you team obvious.) We lounged at the summit a bit before starting back down.
We picked our way around the summit to the descent plunge stepping into loose pumice and even skiing it a bit. We made a brief stop to filter some water. Then we made our way back down to another section of the Flett Glacier between Echo and Observation Rocks and started walking down it. It soon turned to ice and we put our crampons on for a speedier direct descent down the glacier. Around a rock outcropping we continued down the glacier until we could move left toward a snowfield and regain the rock. We continued with our crampons on through a loose rock band and then down another snowfield before taking our crampons off near a well developed bivy site.
We regained the trail and started our long trail walk back to Knapsack Pass. Once again the trail took longer than it seemed. (Perhaps because we could see the pass the whole time?) We returned to the intersection with the Wonderland Trail and proceeded to get on the trail to Knapsack Pass. Now on the trail we had less navigational issues as it was fairly easy to stay on trail. Although due to the lengthy feel of the hike, we had thought we were off route at one point, only to be confirmed on route by John's GPS. We continued until we hit the boulderfield where we initially took a higher crossing and moved through it a bit quicker. Nearing the trail on the other side of the boulders, we dropped lower to a cairn only to have to climb back up to the trail. Back on the trail we dispatched that last of our uphill hiking to take a brief break at the pass before dropping the 1200' down to Mowich Lake.
Overall this was a fun trip with a friend and some new people. The conditions of the climb were much worse than when I had previously climbed it in 2007. This time around the ice was dirtier, and there was more rockfall. (And we climbing in late September in '07.) This is probably due to the extremely warm summer we have been having. Another thing too was that the face seemed to be mostly lit. I remember having no sun on the face for the climb and being quite cold last time. This time I prepared for it, but the sun raced up the slope with us leaving me somewhat dehydrated after the technical portion. (I drank five liters of water throughout the day.) Temps were high and this led to a general discomfort on my part as I was expecting things to be a touch cooler above 7000' and in the shade.
I have to say while I don't know if the Knapsack Pass approach was any quicker, it was a more interesting way to go. The 3+ miles of trail to get to Spray Park are not boring, but are tedious on the return and don't provide much along the way of views on the way in. The alternate approach kept our interest and gave us good views of Mist Park and some light scrambling as well. Although it may not be specific to this approach, the goat herd(s) in the area were actually afraid of people which I guess means they are not acclimated and expect food etc. from us. This is a totally different experience than Washington Pass or Enchantments goats. Also, I presume if you wanted to, you could also summit Fay Peak on the way out if you had the energy.
Speaking of scrambling peaks, my original intent was to scramble Echo Rock after the Observation Rock climb. However, we were a little late, and my feet were acting up. Adam was also in the fourth day of climbing out of the last five and was pretty knackered. Upon getting a closer look at Echo and the route up it, I don't know if I'd ever scramble it as the rock just seems horribly loose and the terrain steep enough to incur death with a mishap. John made the comment that it was a giant cairn.
Another issue is what was happening with my boots. I had a hot spot on the way up to Knapsack Pass in the morning which I addressed, but it continued. I then got a hot spot on the other foot as well. I attempted different lacings and by the top of the ice climbing I was practically in pain. Surprisingly I had no blister, but soggy feet. I bandaged and taped them, but they still gave me discomfort on the way down. This is the first time I had experienced problems with this particular pair of boots. I thought it may be due to walking a long distance is a stiff boot. And I am not unwilling to rule out walking in warm temps in an insulated boot as a contributing factor. It could be that my feet haven't truly recovered from the Forbidden epic, and wearing boots is going to be uncomfortable for me for a while.
My pics are here.
Painted Turtle, North Lake
It's turtle season! This time of year the turtles are very active as they leave the relative safety of their lakes and rivers in search of a place to lay their eggs. Just the other day at work we had a huge snapping turtle crawl out of the Pigeon River and walk right up the path behind our visitor center and lay eggs in the soil right next to the building. And, the last couple of times we've gone for a drive up in the woods, we've seen painted turtles all over the gravel logging road that passes by Turtle, Swede and North Lakes. The painted turtle shown in this photo was sunning itself on a log along the shoreline of North Lake. This log has been there for many years and each year I see several turtles sunning themselves on it. They sure are cute!
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Enjoying the blue hour at Bandon Beach
A shot of Jessica and I from our November trip out west. We had spent the day sightseeing and been in and out of rain all day long. As we drew near Bandon Beach just before sunset the clouds started to clear and it looked like sunset was going to be nice. And indeed it was! The sky lit up with glorious colors as the sun dipped below the horizon. We had a blast watching the changing sky and finding star fish and other sea life clinging to the sea stacks. After the sunset color faded from the sky we headed further down the beach to get closer to some of the sea stacks. From a distance they don't look very big but when you get close, WOW are they huge! I just had to get a shot of us posed in between these towering formations. It was a great end to a fun-filled day!
Friday, February 17, 2012
Daylily garden
I knew, in a theoretical kind of way, that there were a lot of varieties of Daylilies. It didn't really prevent my non-stop gaping at a Daylily garden, though.
One of our wildflower group couples gave us a tour of their garden this week.
Their main focus is Daylilies -- they have hundreds of them.
I doubt I'll ever be as dedicated a gardener.
But I'm lucky to have friends who are.
All the types were labeled, but non-dedicated non-gardener that I am, I didn't take down any names.
If you're dying to know about any particular one, I can probably find out.
-----
Daylilies are Hemerocallis sp. The name in Greek is a combination of Hemera (day) and Kallos (beautiful).
I wrote about words using Kallos before, when talking about Beautyberry. Every time I come across it in a botanical name, I still crack up, remembering that comment about a track team and their cry of "Callipygious!"
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Tombstone Tuesday :: Charles and Naomi Wiseman
WISEMANCHARLES WISEMAN, Sr. / NOV. 30, 1915 - AUG. 14, 1895.
NAOMI WISEMAN / MAR. 3, 1824 - DEC. 6, 1908.
Charles Wiseman and his wife Naomi Bray are buried in McKay Cemetery, Craig Township, Switzerland County, Indiana. (The links are to their entries in my WorldConnect database.) Charles and Naomi are my 2nd Great Grandparents. They had five children: Susanna, Albert, Samuel, Henry and Charles.
Susanna married James Scott. It was her descendant that gave me the Wiseman family Bible and some unidentified pictures (which lead to a series of Mystery Photo posts). Susanna was named after her grandmother, Susanna Ball Bray.
Albert died in July 1853, just 5 months old.
Samuel and Henry married sisters Amanda and Laura Alexander. Sam and Amanda are my Great Grandparents. Sam was named after his grandfather, Samuel Bray. Henry was named after his great grandfather, Henry Bray.
Charles Jr., obviously named after his father, married Elizabeth Detraz and Cordelia Danner.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Gunks Routes: Easy Overhang (5.2) & Son of Easy O (5.8)
It was one of those treasured weekdays in the Gunks. I was going climbing with Margaret, one of my longest-running climbing friends, but with whom I somehow haven't climbed outside in years. She wanted to do some easy leads. I just wanted to climb and didn't much care what we did. And with a heat wave rolling through and temperatures in the high 90s, easy leads sounded pretty good to me.
After I warmed us up with a run up Rhododendron (5.6-) we took the quick walk over to Easy Overhang, which neither of us had ever done and which Margaret wanted to lead.
(Photo: Almost through pitch one of Easy Overhang, having gone in and out of the 5.1 chimney.)
Pitch one is rated only 5.1, but the opening move (up a little flake and left to the chimney that makes up most of the pitch) sure feels harder than that. Neither Margaret nor I were at any risk of falling off, of course, but it was kind of a wake-up call. I get this same wake-up call whenever I do a super-easy climb in the Gunks. There's always a move somewhere that makes you think a little, no matter what the rating is. On Easy Overhang it comes right off the ground. It's just hard enough, I imagine, to give a brand new leader pause about what's to come, and it could cause real problems for a totally inexperienced climber. After we finished the climb, in fact, I saw a young girl of perhaps twelve or thirteen struggling mightily with these first moves of the pitch while her belayer/dad chatted on his cellular phone, oblivious. I gave her a little beta and she eventually got through it, but not without some skidding feet here and there.
Once you are established in the chimney the climb is as easy as advertised up to the bolts at the belay ledge. I thought it was pleasant, good fun. When I got to the bolts I looked up at the 5.2 pitch two and it too looked like another entertaining sandbag. The holds appeared to be plentiful but the climbing looked quite steep, and not just at the namesake overhang(s).
(Photo: Pitch two of Easy Overhang.)
Margaret set off and made quick work of it. As I followed her, enjoying the moves, I tried to imagine Hans Kraus leading it in mountain boots in 1941 (or perhaps sneakers, as he wore for the first ascent of the crux pitch of High Exposure that same year). It wasn't easy to envision. I tried to picture what this cliff was like without the lines already drawn in. I attempted to see this hunk of rock as a blank slate, as Kraus saw it; to find the line without outside influence, as he had found it. And it was hard for me to imagine that a person could look at this particular line and think it would be easily climbed with the tools of his day: clunky boots, a few pitons, hemp ropes. I resolved to try it one day-- not with hemp ropes or pitons, but maybe in mountain boots, as one internet climbing forum participant proposed somewhere a few months ago. Easy Overhang seems like the perfect climb for it. The going is steep in places, but rests are plentiful and there are great edges for stiff soles; no need for smearing. I think primitive footwear would work well, and that leading Easy Overhang in them would scare the crap out of me, in a good, safe way.
After we were done with Easy Overhang it was my turn to lead something. I couldn't resist hopping on Son of Easy O (5.8). I led it two years ago, just a few days before I broke my ankle. When I looked back on it I remembered the thin face climbing on pitch one as rather tough going, and the pitch two overhang as a surprisingly easy pleasure.
I was eager to get back on it because I've been feeling so good on the 5.8 climbs lately. I wanted to see if pitch one would seem easier this time around. I also wanted to check it out again because a few weeks ago in this space I declared Birdland to be perhaps the best 5.8 in the Gunks, and the reason I qualified my praise with that word "perhaps" was that I thought possibly Son of Easy O deserved the honor instead.
Well, pitch one was still tense the second time around. Maybe the heat was a factor. Maybe my performance was also affected by the fact that the party before us elected to rap from the pins near the top (this requires two ropes or a 70 meter single) and dropped their rope on me while I was negotiating the crux. (They were actually nice guys; they realized this was an error and then waited until I said it was okay before they dropped the other end.) Whatever the reason, I thought this was one of the hardest, and best, 5.8 pitches I've done at the Gunks. It just doesn't stop coming. It is steep for 15 or 20 feet, with thin moves past the pin and the little left-facing corner. Then the angle eases but the thin moves continue. You are over your feet so you don't pump out, but there isn't much in the way of a rest stance until you are practically at the ledge. It's just one thoughtful move after another, with great, abundant pro, the whole way. So good.
I wonder if this pitch feels harder than it used to because it is so popular. The route is polished, so much so that you can pick out the line from the carriage road by the streak of polish going up the wall.
I know it is fashionable these days to combine pitches one and two but it was so hot out I thought it might be nice to take a break between the pitches. I also wanted to experience the traverse over to the overhang at the start of pitch two again, and this traverse is skipped when the pitches are combined. So I angled up left at the ledge and belayed at the traditional spot at the end of pitch one. After Margaret arrived at the belay ledge (remarking as she finished climbing that she couldn't believe pitch one was only a 5.8) I set off on pitch two.
(Photo: In the thick of pitch two of Son of Easy O (5.8).)
Again my impressions of two years ago were more or less confirmed. After a slightly dicey step into the traverse, which requires a move or two before you can get good pro in, the pitch is steep, with great holds and gear as you move up into the overhanging corner. Then it is over before you know it. I made the traversing moves, thinking things were getting pumpy in a hurry. Then I stepped up to the pin, telling myself I'd better keep it moving. I placed a dynamite back-up cam to the right of the pin. I moved up and placed another cam in a horizontal. I thought about whether it was worth the energy I would have to expend to improve this last placement... and then I looked to the right and realized the hard stuff was already done. One step around the corner to the right and the pitch was in the bag.
Having done both pitches of Son of Easy O again I have to say it is a close call, but I don't think it is the best overall 5.8 in the Gunks. If the second pitch were just a bit longer it might get the nod. The first pitch is amazing, the second is only very good. In addition, the climb is a victim of its own popularity; it is getting quite polished on the first pitch. Regardless of these small caveats, it is certainly still among the best 5.8s, and it deserves of every one of its three stars.
But Birdland remains the champ as far as I'm concerned.
After I warmed us up with a run up Rhododendron (5.6-) we took the quick walk over to Easy Overhang, which neither of us had ever done and which Margaret wanted to lead.
(Photo: Almost through pitch one of Easy Overhang, having gone in and out of the 5.1 chimney.)
Pitch one is rated only 5.1, but the opening move (up a little flake and left to the chimney that makes up most of the pitch) sure feels harder than that. Neither Margaret nor I were at any risk of falling off, of course, but it was kind of a wake-up call. I get this same wake-up call whenever I do a super-easy climb in the Gunks. There's always a move somewhere that makes you think a little, no matter what the rating is. On Easy Overhang it comes right off the ground. It's just hard enough, I imagine, to give a brand new leader pause about what's to come, and it could cause real problems for a totally inexperienced climber. After we finished the climb, in fact, I saw a young girl of perhaps twelve or thirteen struggling mightily with these first moves of the pitch while her belayer/dad chatted on his cellular phone, oblivious. I gave her a little beta and she eventually got through it, but not without some skidding feet here and there.
Once you are established in the chimney the climb is as easy as advertised up to the bolts at the belay ledge. I thought it was pleasant, good fun. When I got to the bolts I looked up at the 5.2 pitch two and it too looked like another entertaining sandbag. The holds appeared to be plentiful but the climbing looked quite steep, and not just at the namesake overhang(s).
(Photo: Pitch two of Easy Overhang.)
Margaret set off and made quick work of it. As I followed her, enjoying the moves, I tried to imagine Hans Kraus leading it in mountain boots in 1941 (or perhaps sneakers, as he wore for the first ascent of the crux pitch of High Exposure that same year). It wasn't easy to envision. I tried to picture what this cliff was like without the lines already drawn in. I attempted to see this hunk of rock as a blank slate, as Kraus saw it; to find the line without outside influence, as he had found it. And it was hard for me to imagine that a person could look at this particular line and think it would be easily climbed with the tools of his day: clunky boots, a few pitons, hemp ropes. I resolved to try it one day-- not with hemp ropes or pitons, but maybe in mountain boots, as one internet climbing forum participant proposed somewhere a few months ago. Easy Overhang seems like the perfect climb for it. The going is steep in places, but rests are plentiful and there are great edges for stiff soles; no need for smearing. I think primitive footwear would work well, and that leading Easy Overhang in them would scare the crap out of me, in a good, safe way.
After we were done with Easy Overhang it was my turn to lead something. I couldn't resist hopping on Son of Easy O (5.8). I led it two years ago, just a few days before I broke my ankle. When I looked back on it I remembered the thin face climbing on pitch one as rather tough going, and the pitch two overhang as a surprisingly easy pleasure.
I was eager to get back on it because I've been feeling so good on the 5.8 climbs lately. I wanted to see if pitch one would seem easier this time around. I also wanted to check it out again because a few weeks ago in this space I declared Birdland to be perhaps the best 5.8 in the Gunks, and the reason I qualified my praise with that word "perhaps" was that I thought possibly Son of Easy O deserved the honor instead.
Well, pitch one was still tense the second time around. Maybe the heat was a factor. Maybe my performance was also affected by the fact that the party before us elected to rap from the pins near the top (this requires two ropes or a 70 meter single) and dropped their rope on me while I was negotiating the crux. (They were actually nice guys; they realized this was an error and then waited until I said it was okay before they dropped the other end.) Whatever the reason, I thought this was one of the hardest, and best, 5.8 pitches I've done at the Gunks. It just doesn't stop coming. It is steep for 15 or 20 feet, with thin moves past the pin and the little left-facing corner. Then the angle eases but the thin moves continue. You are over your feet so you don't pump out, but there isn't much in the way of a rest stance until you are practically at the ledge. It's just one thoughtful move after another, with great, abundant pro, the whole way. So good.
I wonder if this pitch feels harder than it used to because it is so popular. The route is polished, so much so that you can pick out the line from the carriage road by the streak of polish going up the wall.
I know it is fashionable these days to combine pitches one and two but it was so hot out I thought it might be nice to take a break between the pitches. I also wanted to experience the traverse over to the overhang at the start of pitch two again, and this traverse is skipped when the pitches are combined. So I angled up left at the ledge and belayed at the traditional spot at the end of pitch one. After Margaret arrived at the belay ledge (remarking as she finished climbing that she couldn't believe pitch one was only a 5.8) I set off on pitch two.
(Photo: In the thick of pitch two of Son of Easy O (5.8).)
Again my impressions of two years ago were more or less confirmed. After a slightly dicey step into the traverse, which requires a move or two before you can get good pro in, the pitch is steep, with great holds and gear as you move up into the overhanging corner. Then it is over before you know it. I made the traversing moves, thinking things were getting pumpy in a hurry. Then I stepped up to the pin, telling myself I'd better keep it moving. I placed a dynamite back-up cam to the right of the pin. I moved up and placed another cam in a horizontal. I thought about whether it was worth the energy I would have to expend to improve this last placement... and then I looked to the right and realized the hard stuff was already done. One step around the corner to the right and the pitch was in the bag.
Having done both pitches of Son of Easy O again I have to say it is a close call, but I don't think it is the best overall 5.8 in the Gunks. If the second pitch were just a bit longer it might get the nod. The first pitch is amazing, the second is only very good. In addition, the climb is a victim of its own popularity; it is getting quite polished on the first pitch. Regardless of these small caveats, it is certainly still among the best 5.8s, and it deserves of every one of its three stars.
But Birdland remains the champ as far as I'm concerned.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Gratitude
Gratitude is a beautiful thing. I've been full of thoughts of gratitude all month long. Today I realized what a strange thing it can be though. We did a Skype chat with one of our Reach the World classrooms. And I left with such overwhelming gratitude for the opportunity, I had to blog while I am still full of the emotions that it filled me with.
Picture it. Here we are sitting in sunny and warm Florida...hanging out in our lounge chairs next to the palm trees. Living a leisurely and good life. On the other end is a fourth grade classroom. In Harlem. Living...well, I don't know how, because I've never been to Harlem. But I'm guessing it is not so warm and maybe not so lazy of a pace.
That's not the point though. Because it's not like we were sitting around feeling sorry for them because we are in Florida and they are in Harlem. We've traveled enough to know that every place is interesting and has it's pros and cons. So it's not pity moving us to be here. In fact, we were not really sitting around feeling anything but excited to do this. We want to give this classroom full of wonderful little people whatever it is they might ask of us during the chat. Stories, information, maybe just a chance to talk to someone living somewhere else.
On the other hand, we are not so naive that we aren't aware that they may in fact lead a harder in some ways life than we currently are. We realize just being in school might be a daily challenge. Getting good grades and having great attendance might be something that presses heavily on them and is a giant victory when they do succeed in reaching those goals. We trust like most children, they are warriors in their own ways.
But none of this is on our minds at this moment. Mostly I am just filled with excitement that I get to do this chat with them. And I'm wondering how Austin will do with it all. The point is, I am completely self absorbed really. Just full of myself wondering what I can give and hoping it is enough and so grateful to have the opportunity.
The point is, I'm not thinking at all about what this might mean to them.
Then the beauties and cuties file in and we see them on the webcam. They are awesome. Bright and shining faces and all. Nervous grins so we are waving at them to ease them (and ourselves). The teacher says how excited they've been to meet us. That they showed up on Monday waiting to chat. (We had to cancel and reschedule due to our travel plans) And then she says...they dressed up so they'd look their best for you. I look and see that they are in fact dressed up. In their Sunday best. To meet us.
At which point I lost it. I mean, started crying right on the spot. Had to step away from the webcam to pull myself together. These amazing people were so excited to meet *us* that they dressed up to look their best for it??? Seriously??? Oh, my. I didn't quite know what to do with that except stop and revel in the wonder of it.
These lovelies were extending such a precious gift of gratitude to us. Wow. It's a rare moment in life when you realize equally mutual gratitude is happening right at that very moment. I mean I've been on one side or the other many times and it's a good thing to be on either side. But to have both of you be so filled with gratitude and sharing it in this communal way. It's a deeply spiritual thing. It changes you. It is something words can't quite capture.
I was just showing up to do a chat on our travels. I had no idea such a beautiful gift would be given to me. Incredible! What a wonderful, and oh so fitting way to head into Thanksgiving.
Thank you, Ms. Johnson's class. I can't wait to meet you in person. It is a given I will cry even harder then.
Picture it. Here we are sitting in sunny and warm Florida...hanging out in our lounge chairs next to the palm trees. Living a leisurely and good life. On the other end is a fourth grade classroom. In Harlem. Living...well, I don't know how, because I've never been to Harlem. But I'm guessing it is not so warm and maybe not so lazy of a pace.
That's not the point though. Because it's not like we were sitting around feeling sorry for them because we are in Florida and they are in Harlem. We've traveled enough to know that every place is interesting and has it's pros and cons. So it's not pity moving us to be here. In fact, we were not really sitting around feeling anything but excited to do this. We want to give this classroom full of wonderful little people whatever it is they might ask of us during the chat. Stories, information, maybe just a chance to talk to someone living somewhere else.
On the other hand, we are not so naive that we aren't aware that they may in fact lead a harder in some ways life than we currently are. We realize just being in school might be a daily challenge. Getting good grades and having great attendance might be something that presses heavily on them and is a giant victory when they do succeed in reaching those goals. We trust like most children, they are warriors in their own ways.But none of this is on our minds at this moment. Mostly I am just filled with excitement that I get to do this chat with them. And I'm wondering how Austin will do with it all. The point is, I am completely self absorbed really. Just full of myself wondering what I can give and hoping it is enough and so grateful to have the opportunity.The point is, I'm not thinking at all about what this might mean to them.Then the beauties and cuties file in and we see them on the webcam. They are awesome. Bright and shining faces and all. Nervous grins so we are waving at them to ease them (and ourselves). The teacher says how excited they've been to meet us. That they showed up on Monday waiting to chat. (We had to cancel and reschedule due to our travel plans) And then she says...they dressed up so they'd look their best for you. I look and see that they are in fact dressed up. In their Sunday best. To meet us.
At which point I lost it. I mean, started crying right on the spot. Had to step away from the webcam to pull myself together. These amazing people were so excited to meet *us* that they dressed up to look their best for it??? Seriously??? Oh, my. I didn't quite know what to do with that except stop and revel in the wonder of it.
These lovelies were extending such a precious gift of gratitude to us. Wow. It's a rare moment in life when you realize equally mutual gratitude is happening right at that very moment. I mean I've been on one side or the other many times and it's a good thing to be on either side. But to have both of you be so filled with gratitude and sharing it in this communal way. It's a deeply spiritual thing. It changes you. It is something words can't quite capture.I was just showing up to do a chat on our travels. I had no idea such a beautiful gift would be given to me. Incredible! What a wonderful, and oh so fitting way to head into Thanksgiving.
Thank you, Ms. Johnson's class. I can't wait to meet you in person. It is a given I will cry even harder then.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Monday, February 6, 2012
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Rain, Rain Go Away? Or on Second Thought, Stay!
I have not been cycling for the past week due to nonstop rain. But today I finally could not take it anymore: Despite the overcast sky and the morbid forecast, I went. By mid-day, it did rain. And it was great!
Some nice things about cycling in the rain:
. it's good for your complexion
. you can sing in it (and I did!)
. the grass and trees look super green, almost neon
. the lovely scent of flowers really comes out
. you have the cycle paths mostly to yourself
. you have an excuse to wear screaming red and lobsterman yellow!
Above: My empty Apfelspritzer mug, in an empty outdoor cafe -- in the rain. Look how red those geraniums look!
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