One More Hibiscus

A water-covered tropical hibiscus in Arizona.

Life Goes On

(Photo: X-Ray showing my broken ankle. Diagnosis: fracture- ankle, medial malleolus, closed.)

One year ago today, I broke my ankle rock climbing.

In part, I started this little blog in order to force myself to write about it. But I've been struggling with what to say about it for a year now, and I'm afraid that struggle isn't over.

My accidenthappened on a Gunks climb called Insuhlation (5.9). I fell justafter the final crux roof. I pulled over the roof with no problems, but there was a wet hold above the roof that I suppose I failed to use well. Or maybe my foot popped, I'm not sure. Truthfully, I don't know exactly why I fell. I had my right hand on the semi-jug above the wet hold. I was looking around for pro; my last piece was a green Alien a few feet below the roof. And then I was off.

I recall with vivid clarity the sensation of falling. Time suddenly slowed to a crawl, and I saw my half ropesin a parabolic arcabove me as I flew back outward from the rock. It seemed as if I had a good long time in midair to consider that this might not end well. I remember thinking "this is it!" ...but I'm not sure what I had "it" in mind to be. I yelled out "falling," and then things sped up considerably. I flipped upside-down and then the rope came tight on the green Alien, which held, and I came to a stop, hanging in the air with my head where my feet should have been.

As I righted myself, I realized I was injured. I couldn't understand why I'd flipped over. The rope wasn't behind my leg. And I hadn't felt a thing. There was no impact at all that I had sensed. So why was my ankle tender and starting to swell? I asked my partner N to lower me to the ledge. The pair climbing next to us onObstacle Delusion retrieved my gear on rappel and filledus in on what had happened. "You flipped over when your ankle hit the rock," one of them said. So it seemed there was an impact, but in the adrenaline-pumped moment I hadn't felt it. At least itall made sense now, even if the explanation didn't jibe with what my mind had allowed me to experience.

Thinking it was just a sprain, I hobbled the whole way from the High Exposure access trail back to the steel bridge, refusing numerous offers of assistance from concerned strangers. The best and the worst of the Trapps in autumn were on display. People were kind and supportive, but there were far too many of them. At one point I stopped to rest in the Uberfall area and counted over thirty climbers in my immediate field of vision, all of them looking at me in a pitying way that made me very uncomfortable. N thought we shouldsummon the rangers, but I insisted that if I could evacuate myselfwe shouldn't initiate a rescue. I now recognize that this was a stupidmistake. I really don't think it made my ankle any worse, but if I'd listened to N, we would have had the benefit of the advice of first responders, and I would likely have been taken to a hospital for an x-ray right away instead of waiting 24 hoursand only thenfinding out the ankle was broken and required surgery. It also would have put much less pressure on N, who ended up having the sole responsibility of babying me all the way back to Brooklyn.

In the aftermath of the accidentI was overwhelmed with guilty feelings. The source of these feelings was hard to pin down. I felt guilty about inconveniencing my wife.She'd have to pick up the kids every day and do all the cooking for months to come. I also felt guilty that I'd made whatever climbing mistake I must have made to get into this mess. I blamed myself for the accident, although I had a hard time deciding what it was I'd done wrong. I also felt a lot of guilt about imposing my injury on N. I entertained totally unfounded fears that she'd never climb with me again, and that all my other climbing partners might desert me as well.

Amidst all this I wondered if I really was feeling most guilty about climbing in the first place. Was I taking pains to find fault with my climbing on that fateful day because I needed to avoid confronting something harder to deal with? Was my accident really a reminderthat even if you do everything right when you climb, even if you place gear liberally and it holds, you can still get hurt? Was it a sign that I should quit,that climbing is unacceptably dangerous? Certainly a number of people, from my doctor to my mother to my wife's colleagues, assumed that my broken ankle would be thewake-up callI needed to make me come to my senses and stop this climbing nonsense, as any responsible husband and fatherwould.

I did not want to quit. Although I didn't know how I'd feel getting out there on the rock again, I was sure, as I sat around recovering and gaining twenty pounds, that I would missclimbing terribly if I stopped doing it. But I didn't want to be a bad husband and father. I had to ask myself if climbing could be done reasonably, or whetherthe dangers were such that no amount of rock climbingcould be consideredsane.

I read numerous classics of mountaineering literature searching for the answer, to no avail.Many great mountaineers have wrestled with the question of why we are drawn to climbing, and whether the dangers are worth it. Some embracethe risk, declaring danger to beat the verycore of the climbing experience. Othersfocus instead onthe many other wonderful aspects of the sport-- the scenery, the adventure, the physical and mental challenge, theconnectionwith nature-- but throw up their hands at the death toll and ultimately leave the question of whether it is all worthwhile to a higher power.

Of course, these writers are considering a different sport than the one in which I participate. They are writing about climbing real mountains and pushing the very limits of the possible. They choose to face objective hazards that cannot be managed, such as altitude sickness, avalanches, and sudden deadly changes in the weather. And in order toexpand the boundaries of what can be climbed, they deliberately go without reasonable protection on climbs that are incredibly risky,forging ahead on blank, smoothrock facesand through rotten bands of ice. These writers would think nothing of the climbing I do in the Gunks on a two hundred foot cliff that has been fully explored, with every route to the top exhaustively indexed by its difficulty and protection rating. To them the risks taken by a weekend warrior likemehardly qualify as risks at all.

And yet there are risks in any climbing environment, no matter how tame that environment is. In the Gunks, for instance, there have been very few fatalities over the years, but less than fatal accidents occurratherfrequently. Lapses in judgment lead climbers to forget crucial steps in the climbing process. Theyrappel off the ends of their ropes, or drop their partners. Objective hazards exist: rocks fall down. And no matter how much difficulty and protection grades may sanitize a climb, it is still easy to wander off route, to miss a crucial gear placement,or otherwiseto find oneself in territory where a fall could be disastrous. Gear that seems solid may pull out; it is hard even for experienced climbers to dependably judge placements of climbing gear. And finally, as my accident demonstrates, even if the gear is solid you can get hurt in any fall.

It is often pointed out by climbers that many sports carry dangers, and that climbing is actually less dangerous thancommon daily activities like driving a car. This may be true, but we are not forced to choose a dangerous sport in which to participate. We don't have to choose climbing just because it isn't as crazy as BASE jumping. We can shun all sports involving danger if it is the right thing to do. And while driving a car may wellbe more dangerous than climbing, we live in a world in which we can't escape the car. We have no choice about it. Climbing is different. It is a luxury we can well afford to drop.

But I couldn't bear to drop it.After my accident I was desperate to find a rationale for continuing to climb, a way to go forward but feel I was being reasonable and safe about it.

I wish I could tell you that I figured out the answer to this problem. I wish I could say thatI developed a calculus to determine how much danger is acceptable. I wish I could offer you a climbing plan that is 100 percent risk-free, or tell you that I located the perfect spot on the climbing danger continuum at which adventure is maximized but life-threatening hazards are minimized. But obviously I did none of these things.

Instead I decided to wade back into climbingslowly and to take it easy, minimizing risk by minimizing difficulty. Even this simple plan was a difficult one for me to execute, because I like to challenge myself. But aside from a few lapses I mostly stuck with it, avoiding leading harderclimbs all year, being willing to follow other folks' desires and ambitions more than my own, and repeating a bunch of favorite climbs instead of always seeking out new ones.

At first, I found that my accident had wreaked havoc with my lead head. I was tentative on the lead, becoming paralyzed at crux momentsI never would have worried about in the past. On more than one occasion this year I fell or took a hang because I simply couldn't commit to the move atthe crucial moment of a climb. The irony of this situation wasn't lost on me-- before the accident I pretty much never fell while climbing, but afterward, while trying to go easy and safe, I found myself falling or hanging on gear with some frequency. This seemed like madness, and made me wonder what the hell I was doing out there at all.

But I'm happy to report that over time my head improved (although not completely). I lost a good bit of the weight I gained and I alsotried through the year to become a better technical climber with a better awareness of balance and footwork than I had in the past. I see increased proficiency as a path towards feeling confident enough to progress back up the grades in the future. At some point this year I gave up on having any big climbing achievements in . It has been a rebuilding year.I haven't led a single pitch of trad 5.9 all year, and I'm fine with that. I recently followed a few, and they felt laughably easy. I take that as a good sign, and I plan to put that good feeling in my pocket for the winter, work really hard in the gym through the cold months, and emerge in the spring with confidence thatI can soon begin leadingharder climbsagain, breaking back into 5.9 and maybe even 5.10. And I hopethat whenI doso the climbs willfeel secure, and not beyond my limits.

So I have continued to climb, and life goes on. I can't assure anyone that I have made the right decision. But I can promise I'm more careful than I used to be, with the unfortunate side effect that I'm also more tentative. I am more willing to back off, and I will be much slower about working up the grades, more conscious of my limits. On the whole I believe I'm moving in the right direction. And that's the best balance I thinkI can achieve.

Athlete by Choice - Duncan Brown

I get attracted to certain characters.

And I go out of my way to meet them.

China is not too far.



I went to China to meet Duncan Brown.

He wasn't there.

No problem, I met some amazing people anyway. (see previous posts)



I line up another trip 3 months later. I read on Facebookthat he's leaving. Crap, I already bought a ticket.

Turns out we crossed over for a coupla days.



So here's Duncan Brown on his last attempt on his long term project on his last climbing day at his favourite crag in his, now ex, home town of Yangshuo.

No Guarantee 513.c







I finally catch him at his going away thrash at Yangshuo's ex-pat climber bar "The Rusty Bolt".

There's a bunch of climbers I've met on previous trips, I know enough people to not feel uncomfortable.

I recognise him, I give him a big hug, he looks accepting, but bewildered. I introduce myself.

He talks intensely. The party goes off. I sneak out.










iPhone selfie

We meet next morning at the grubby bus station headed for Lei Pi Shan, super crag.







He comes across confident. And he is keen to talk climbing. Big picture.









There's no idle chit chat. Duncan wants to know my opinion on where Australian climbing is at.

I pull together a few patchy ideas and speculate about the new breed of young gym-trained climbers rattling the hierarchy.

He delivers a professorial lecture on training, crag development, international climbing.













We are there for one thing. A last ditch effort to send "No Guarantee", and I, to make sure everyone sees it.

I feel it's my duty to make sure Australia knows who's coming home.



"No Guarantee" climbs a full 40 metres straight through that black blob all the way to the trees.


Reference the blob, we'll get back to that later.

Duncan wears: Kailas clothing.


Climb "Paper Cut" 28, pull a harder crux, and keep on pulling for another 20 metres.







The "rest" near the top of Paper Cut.

Then launch into the hard stuff.







The day I turned up in Yangshuo was the first fine day after a long wet spell.

As usual the first thing I do is check the Li River.

I'm suddenly shocked. There's so much water. I instantly think of disastrous Chinese floods. They can do some damage. The sun came out and the rock started to dry out.








iPhone shot from December.

















Duncan jams in a kneebar at the base of the black tufa blob.
















Time to get some perspective here. There's the black blob way down there. There's a climber in blue on Single Life, I think, level with the blob.














Now that's what I went to China to see!




Extensive crag development all around China has brought Duncan's small town Yangshuo Mandarin accent into scrutiny. He reckons the Chinese big city folk take him for a retard.

Something I had never even remotely considered.

So he bungs on a posh big city accent whenever in Beijing. More "ARrrrrr's" apparently.





Lei Pi Shan, just another Chinese roadside attraction.




Walking away from Lei Pi Shan for the last time. The last time for this era, at least.



Without the tick he so badly wanted.

It's a tough crag.

I was there also, three months ago, the day Logan Barber walked away from Lei Pi Shan. Returning to Australia without the send of "Storm Born" he had tried so hard for.




Logan Barber >




I feel kind of privileged to be there that day. A special day in Yangshuo. Bringing to an end an era for such a prominent Australianclimber.

I've searched this photo for any trace of disappointment on Duncan's face. It's not there.

Why? Because he knows he didn't waste any effort. There was nothing he didn't do.

He says he's ready to return to Oz. I sense that's true.

He's got a plan. He knows where he's going. And why.








Too late for buses. On foot to Goatian.


Four years is a long time to spend in a kooky little town like Yangshuo. It's got to change a person.

Maintaining focus and perspective must become a challenge. Some people do it well.





Duncan will be putting his effort behind his fitness and nutrition programs in Australia.

Look out for it.



Welcome home Duncan.














Athlete by choice




jj

If you've got it, flaunt it! COG 55 posted!

And man, the Genea-Bloggers have got it!

Jasia at Creative Gene has posted Carnival of Genealogy, 55th Edition and it is the biggest ever! There are 50 posts by 49 authors covering the "Show and Tell" topic. As Jasia says, "Our esteemed group of contributors is sharing special persons, photos, documents, and heirlooms with you today. You will be truly amazed at the collection of articles presented here! No, I'm not exaggerating. You will be amazed at some of the fascinating items people have shared from their family's history."

My contribution for this edition is Indiana Sisley Stem :: Show and Tell and The Sisley Family Bible. Yes, I submitted two posts, but they are related (pun intended).

The next COG will be hosted by Lori Thornton of Smoky Mountain Family Historian. The topic is "10 essential books in my genealogy library." Check out Lori's post for more information.

Due to the explosive growth of the COG, and the amount of time it takes to put a COG post together, Jasia has a request for all contributors to future carnivals:

Due to the recent rapid growth of the COG, and assuming its popularity continues, I will have to make some changes to the way it is presented. I am asking that all future participants use a descriptive phrase in the title of their articles (i.e. "Miss Kate's Autograph Book" as Denise Olson did) and/or write a brief description/introduction to your articles in the "comment" box of the blogcarnival submission form (i.e. "I loved show and tell in school. Way back then I was only allowed to bring one item. For this edition of the COG I'm bringing a small valise full of items that are all related to A Pink Ball Gown." as Apple did). This will give readers an idea of what you've written about and hopefully interest them in clicking on your link. I will no longer be doing this for the authors. I just can't keep that up with the volume of submissions. I'm also considering other changes to the COG. I'll keep you posted.

The deadline for submissions for COG 56 is September 15th. Use the carnival submission form to submit your post. Past posts and future hosts can be found on the carnival index page.

Carnival of Genealogy graphics created by footnoteMaven.

Red Rocks

Springfield VT to Jefferson OH

Today we drove about 540 miles to our new destination. It took us about 11 hours to get there. We drove through New York, and the scenery was gorgeous. I still was not a fan of being in the truck that long.



Normally I try to catch up on my scrapbooking while we drive, but today I was trying to read instead. That only lasted so long before I was ready for something else though.



Luckily, I have the boys to entertain me. They shared interesting fun facts with me. Like Memaw has mint Tums in the glove compartment of her car. So anytime Austin has a tummy ache, headache or heartache she can fix what ails him. Given Memaw's vast personal pharmacy, it does not surprise me that she has Tums in her car. But mint? I had no idea they made mint tums. Good to know!



Austin just returned from a visit with Daryl and Diana, so he filled us in on all the comings and goings with the family. They had a family get together while he was there, so he had lots to share. He told us about a house that Daryl and Diana want to buy, so we looked online at pictures of that.



Aric shared his talent in taking my brother Steven's songs and remaking them Weird Al style. Or maybe that should be Weird Aric style. For example, one of the lines in a song as originally written is: You've got me locked inside your prison, and I hate everything you do. Aric's version was something like: You've got me locked inside your freezer, and I am slowly turning blue. (Forgive me guys if I have either one of those lines incorrect. I'm going by memory and I'm kind of oldish now so my memory comes and goes) Aric fully entertained us for some time with his brilliance in this area. Ah, my kids are nothing if they are not creative.



The very best of all for this particular trip was a conversation about Austin's now bald head and the moles the shaving of hair revealed. Austin asks how bad it looks that the bulging one shows. Aric: It doesn't look bad from far way. But up close it's scary. It looks like it's giving me the stink eye.



It just doesn't get any better than that kind of live improv that they have going on. Not to mention, that there is a certain interaction with brothers that is fascinating to me. That would be one great example of how guys relate that is totally different than girls. It is hysterical to me to listen to, and as a girl I know I'd be horrified if my sister said that to me. We are more likely to say, the mole...nah, it hardly shows at all. Let me get some concealer out of my purse and see if I can make it go completely away though.



I love having boys for so many reasons but one of my favorite reasons is that on days like this, they make my life so much better.





Living the life while driving through pretty New York!

Good Times in Never Never Land (5.10a), Battling the Balrog (5.10b), and more!

(Photo: Making the first crux move just off the deck on Absurdland (5.8).)




The day after Thanksgiving is often a great day in the Gunks. The weather is frequently cooperative, and the cliffs are always pretty empty.




This year we had a great time, climbing in shirtsleeves and light jackets, although it was a bit chilly when we first set out. Gail and I climbed in a party of three with Julia, a friend of Gail's with whom I hadn't climbed before. During the drive up, I found out that Julia is a lot like me, working through all the classic 5.9's in the Gunks and setting her sights on the 5.10's.




I knew this might well be my last day of climbing in , so I hoped to get on at least one 5.10.




But first we had to find a good warm-up climb. I suggested Absurdland (5.8), a great single-pitch route I hadn't been on in . I had taken a brief hang at the second crux way back in when I led the climb onsight, and didn't go back until , when I easilyfollowed Maryana up it. I really enjoyed it last year and wanted to go back to send it on lead, which I was confident was well within my abilities nowadays.




The climb reminds me of the first pitch of Son of Easy O (5.8). In both climbs the first 20 feet contain steep, somewhat thin moves up a crack, and then both climbs ease off to beautiful, lower-angled face climbing. On Absurdland the two crux moves come pretty fast off the ground. Both moves are well-protected and maybe a little stiff for 5.8. (The climb has at times been rated an easy 5.9.)




I had no trouble with the cruxes this time around, though I could see why I took that hang back in . The second crux is pumpy and if you aren't confident enough to move right away it is difficult to arrange a rest stance there. There is good pro right at your chin so my advice is that you just go for it! After that move it's all gravy.








(Photo: Julia starting up Gory Thumb (5.9).)




Absurdland ended up setting the agenda for the rest of the day. Everything else we did was nearby.




Julia picked Gory Thumb (5.9) for her first lead. I was glad she selected it because I'd never done it before. I had looked at it and rejected it because it seemed like a squeezed-in route (next to Raunchy and Wild Horses) without too much too offer. I thought the crux thin crack on the white face about 40 feet up would be over in one move, and that the rest of the climb would be a waste of time. Also I was concerned about the pro down low.




But Julia found a really good nut right after the start. (I struggled to remove it.) And I ended up enjoying the pitch. The initial moves are much easier than 5.9 but they are interesting. Up above, the crux is good and well-protected with small wires. You can finish as Julia did by continuing straight up above the crack to an easy fault, or you can contrive to prolong the real climbing by stepping left and making a couple of slab moves up to the ledge, which is what I did (at Gail's suggestion) as the second. Nice pitch. Maybe a touch easy for 5.9? Swain has it as 5.8+.








(Photo: Thin moves right from the jump on Never Never Land (5.10a).)




After Gory Thumb it was my turn to lead again and I knew exactly what I wanted to do. My objective was so close, drawing me like a magnet.




Balrog! Balrog! Balrog!




This climb has been on my list all year, which might seem strange because no one thinks it is an "easy" 5.10. At 5.10b many call it a sandbag. The crux is very unusual, featuring a hanging, sloping corner. You have to find a way to reach up to the holds high in the corner (which plays out like a roof problem), and then find some way to get yourself onto the odd, sloping left wall of the corner. But even though this crux is challenging, it is short, and there is an awesome horizontal crack-- it resembles a mail slot-- for pro right at the crux roof. It is a clean fall into the air if you fail. I figured that even if the crux was too hard for me to onsight I should be able to protect it well.




Why not go for it?




I dispensed with the easy early climbing quickly, placing very little gear. Then I found myself at a slab beneath the looming roof. In this slab was a perfect thin vertical seam. Up close, the crux roof looked much scarier than it did from the trail. There was a great-looking undercling hold in the roof and from there I figured I could reach the mail slot on the left side of the hanging corner and throw in a piece. But if I was wrong and fell reaching for the slot I might tumble awkwardly down the slab. I hesitated quite a bit, placing a nut in the seam, then thinking about the move, and then repeating the whole process.




I ended up placing four (!) nuts in the slab before I finally went for it.




I needn't have worried so much about reaching the mail slot. That part turned out to be no problem.




But I struggled with the crux reach afterward, taking a few hangs before I figured the whole thing out. I had great gear. Ultimately I had two cams in the mail slot, a purple Camalot that was solid if a little shallow and a bombproof red Totem Basic (Alien clone). If you place two cams as I did, make sure to leave some room for your hand and a later toe!








(Photo: Julia on Never Never Land (5.10a), before the crux.)






I was disappointed that I didn't onsight Balrog, but I'm pretty sure I can redpoint it in , so long as I nail the reach after the mail slot to the great hold up in the corner. There is no magic to this reach, you just need the confidence that comes from knowing how bomber the hold is. The subsequent move to the left wall is strenuous, but I think I have it all worked out. I will not spell it all out but I will tell you the secret to my beta:




Sometimes, grasshopper, it is better to push than to pull.




I'm not sure but I suspect I might be doing Balrog the hard way.Dick Williams says in his guidebook that the climb is especially rewarding if you can figure out the easier way to do it. After I got back down, Julia struggled with Balrog much as I did, and then Gail schooled the both of us by sailing up it like it was nothing. I was belaying and couldn't quite tell what she did, but it looked very different from my solution. If you are searching for the especially rewarding easy way to do it I'd suggest you reach out to Gail. She knows.




Note: If you are heading up Balrog in the near future, bring some new webbing. The two pieces of webbing that were tied to the belay tree there in late November were both feeling pretty brittle. We went ahead and used the station but in retrospect I wish we'd replaced the webbing.








(Photo: More of Never Never Land (5.10a), juuust beneath the crux.)




Julia was pissed off about Balrog, and she was on a mission for redemption. She decided to get it by leading Never Never Land (5.10a).




This was her first 5.10 lead and I was honored to witness it. Although Never Never Land has an easier rating than Balrog, I think Never Never Land is a much headier lead, with spaced pro and far more sustained climbing.




Gail and Maryana have been pushing me to lead Never Never Land, but I have resisted, both because this kind of thin face climbing isn't my favorite thing and also because in the summer of I toproped it with Gail and (to my enduring shame) I couldn't do the crux move AT ALL. It was a very hot, slimy day, and at the time, in those conditions, I couldn't imagine doing the move cleanly. The crux crimpers were so greasy, the footholdsnonexistent.On that day I fell several times and then gave up, French-freeing the move by pulling on the draw at the bolt.




This time around I was excited to follow Julia up Never Never Land so I could check it out in better conditions without having to lead the climb. I'm afraid that watching her did not make me want to jump on the sharp end. There is a repeated pattern of hard moves above gear that lead to the stances where one can get pro. A fall at any one of these difficult moves would not be horrible, but would send you for a ride. There are one or two such moves before the crux. Then the crux move just after the bolt is well-protected, but you have to run it out to the piton at the next horizontal, which is quite a ways away. Right before the piton is another hard move. After the piton it eases off a touch and the final moves have better pro but it isn't easy by any stretch. The thin face moves continue all the way to the chain anchors.






(Photo: Julia just past the crux of Never Never Land (5.10a). Big crimpin'! Way to go!)



Julia did a great job, handling the whole thing with a calm intensity. There were some tense moments, but she made it to the top without a fall, elated. When it was my turn, I was pleased to send it on toprope. Still I worry about leading it, as there are at least three places where I can see myself falling off if things don't go just right. Whether on lead or on toprope, I should really do more of this type of thin face climbing. All the way up I kept telling myself (and others!) that I hated the climb, but by the time I reached the chains I had to admit I loved it just a little.



We ended our day with a warm-down. I led Cakewalk (5.7), another nearby classic that usually sees action only on its first pitch, which ends at a bolted chain anchor. On my last and only previous trip up Cakewalk I'd gotten lost and wandered into some much more difficult and poorly-protected climbing, from which I'd thankfully emerged unscathed. This time I made sure to go left immediately after the tree and it was nothing but joy. Some nice face climbing wanders up to the obvious, huge right-facing corner. Dick describes the first part of the pitch as a little run out but I found plenty of pro. Then the burly moves up the corner were great fun. Before I knew it I'd reached the chains. The climb, like , was over much too soon.

Steven's Pass ..

Ken and I opted to use our free passes to Steven's Pass on the last Friday of operations. The weather wasn't forecast to be great, but we were going anyway. After all, you can't be a Pacific Northwest skier without skiing in the rain at least once a year.

The first ride up the chair was cloudy, but no precip. The second ride up involved rain that turned into "Wintry Mix" near the top. By the third time up, we had that precip freezing on the outsides of our shell pants.

First chair ride up.

The snow was decent on groomed runs and corn like at times with icy patches and some thicker patches. Anything that was not groomed was heavy, wet and hard to turn in. We stuck to Hog Heaven, and Barrier Ridge for our first few runs then decided to see what the other side of the ridge was like.

We rode the Tye Mill Chair up to the top and then went down Gemini which felt like the best run of the day so far. There was no one on the backside, and the weather was somewhat better. That changed, and the wind kicked up and the rides up the Jupiter Chair had us getting blasted in the face with icy pellets. After 3-4 runs down time was running out on the backside (they close the lifts at 3:15pm) so we decided to get back on the front of the ridge.

We had a few super enjoyable runs down The Crest Trail and Skid Road before making a few last runs down Skyline as the skies turned blue and we warmed up and dried out.

Overall we had a great day. The snow was pretty good where it had been groomed, or where lots of people were skiing. We stuck to all blue runs as the black diamonds were not groomed and not too many people were skiing them. The snow in those areas was not appealing, and neither Ken nor I were looking to get injured on our last day of lift served skiing this season.

Last chair of day.

All mountain skis? The Dynafit Huascaran.

I've been lucky enough to ski a dozen new skis in the last couple of weeks. All of them hand picked for possible inclusion in my personal "ultimate" quiver. No skito date more of a surprise or more impressive as a true "all mountain ski", than... the new Dynafit Hauscaran. This is truly one amazing ski. Helped to have 2+' (yes 2+ feet) of new, untracked hero snow today to play on. It is the Cascades after all so anything you can actually ski here that is 2' deep IS,almost unbelievable, hero snow. And it was snowing hard enough to fill it in all day long.Did I mention it was almost untracked from 9AM to 4PM because it kept snowing so hard? Just one of THOSE days :) Butliterally, from water ice, to cut up crud and a hard rain crust to some amazing POW;the Hauscaranwill rip fast GS turns or dance in the deep and steep stuff amid tight trees. Effortless in either situation, even for me! An amazing ski. And now I know why so many decide towear a helmet.












Even more impressive to meknowing that I was doing all thiswhileskiinga pair of light weight TLT 5 Performance boots and the new TLT Speed Superlite RACE Binding (185g). The same boot the original designer said it was "stupid to ski them off the lifts". They are that light. But they do ski well ;) Turns out, for no special reason, it was a Dynafit day. I hadn't planned it that way. This set up was to be my "lwt fat" ski for longer mid winter touring days. The Hauscaranis all that and a bag of chips! But I am rethinking what might be its other uses now and what it would do with a "real" ski boot bolted on. Something like the Mercury or Vulcan. may be even the One. I know my Zero4 Carbons are way, way too much boot for this ski, in a 177. No need for that much power!













These are short @177cm. Taking advantage of the size/weight ofthe binding these(ski & binding) weigh in at 8# 10oz. First time I have ever thought about buying a 2nd pair of the same ski...the next one in a 196cm. Two sizes, two different boots to drive them and two totally different usesfor the ski.



The 178cm is 134-112-123 and 1780g weights in at . The 196cm is 136-115-125 and weights in at 1940g. And yes, it was snowing :)


In the next few weeks hopefully I'll get the time to write up all the skis I've been ridingrecently.And my ideas behind the "ultimate quiver". Along with some old and new boots and some of the accessories I've found really useful this winter for skiing in bounds and out.



But as I mentioned this ski was a total surprise. I wasn't expecting much from such a big skis. And what the Hauscaran delivered was pretty impressive in my limited experience. Enough so thatI wanted to do an early heads up on it tonight. 'Cuz it is snowing like crazy at the house right now and likely a huge dump upon the hill for tomorrow!

Scott School in Troy Township

On the back of the postcard photo above is written “Jane Brubaker 4/3/1914 My School. Wyland Herrold Teacher.”
Jane would turn 11 years old on April 14th, 1914. She is on the right side of the middle row, the little girl with the black bow in her hair. Her brother, William Hale Brubaker, is the young fellow with the white shirt and tie in the front row, in front of Jane. He was 9 years old on February 22nd, 1914. My grandmother would have been 12 years old at the time so should be in the picture also but for some reason she isn't. The family was living at the Goose Lake Farm, in Troy Township, at the time. The school was about 2 miles from the farm. The Scott School was closed in the spring of 1920.
The pictures below were taken in August ...