Upper Tahquamenon Falls

The “showcase” of Tahquamenon Falls is the Upper Falls, which is about four miles upstream from the Lower Falls. It is larger and more dramatic – it has a drop of 50 feet and is more than 200 feet wide.





But first, I had to slip this in...A “fact shack” has a nice display of information about the falls and an impressive display recognizing the comeback of the gray wolf. I was hypnotized by the stare of this fellow – stuffed and amazingly life-like.



Paved trails from the parking lot lead to the Upper Falls, so it is an easy walk. Several viewing areas along the way provide a good look at the falls.





At the end of the trail is a staircase with 94 (or maybe it was 84, whatever, it was a lot) steps that have to be taken down (and back up). But it's worth the effort to get a close-up view of the magnificent falls.











Returning to the top of the steps and following the path back, I noticed a second pathway that continued south and down to the gorge. At the end I was faced with another staircase - this one of 118 steps - that went down to the river. I hoped that the view would be worth the effort – the temperature was 80 degrees and the humidity was probably 98% - it had rained in the morning.



The views did indeed provide a different perspective of the falls...







It was awesome, in spite of the gloomy, gray, rainy day. Lucky for me, on this day the rain stopped mid-day. Photos were taken on Tuesday August 2nd.

New Camera Photos

These are the first photos from my new camera. Of course some of the Sandia Mountains.



Cassie



Twinkie




Wiley


Murphy



Tuffee



Ziva



Star



Stormy & Traveler

How I Tried to Go Skating

As part of my commute I often take a shortcut through the back of Harvard Yard, and some time around early December a mysterious construction site appeared there. At first I was annoyed to have to go around it. But as the construction took shape, it began to look suspiciously like... Could it be? Oh my goodness yes, a skating rink! One afternoon last week the construction fence was suddenly gone and the rink open. Just like that!





I could hardly pedal fast enough to get close and read the bright crimson sign. And guess what? It is free to skate there, and $5 to rent skates. Technically I still own a pair of skates circa 1995, though sadly I have not been able to find them since we moved to Boston. I can picture these skates vividly in my mind: They were white with jet-black heels and shiny blades, utterly beautiful, and they cost $29.99 at Olympia Sports. "I will buy them for you, if you really think you can do it this time," my mother said. And I nodded vigorously. Oh how I wanted those skates!





Perhaps now is a good time to explain that the intensity of my love for skating is matched only by my utter lack of ability. Born to a set of parents who skated proficiently since childhood and believed it to be the most natural thing in the world, I stunned them with my clumsiness and lack of coordination.



I remember my first time on the ice: It was a crisp winter evening not long before my 4th birthday, and a huge skating rink was set up in the park under garlands of lights. My mother - a slender, elegant beauty in a tailored overcoat - glided across the ice effortlessly with a serene smile on her face... as she dragged her little piggy of a daughter along, who flailed and stumbled and continued to be dragged to the sounds of Tchaikovsky blasting from the park's loudspeaker system. "Don't worry, you'll get it!" my mother would say as she glanced down at me occasionally. But mostly she lost herself in the music and glided, dragging me across the ice regardless of whether I was upright or not.





Attempts to get me to skate continued through that and a couple of subsequent winters, but my skills showed little sign of improvement. The "don't worry, you'll get it!" gave way to "but you're not even trying!" until finally my mother gave up. But my yearning for the ice remained, and every winter I sighed as I watched the figure skaters on television. As a teenager I asked for a pair of skates for my birthday and began to visit a local rink on my own - skating in a slow and duck-like manner close to the guard rail. I was remarkably bad, but somehow I still enjoyed it. I took these skates with me to college, grad school, and beyond, visiting local rinks for more of the same. And now I can continue here!



Yesterday I knew that I would finally have an hour gap in my day, and I made sure to withdraw some cash. I was ready to rent skates and I cycled to Harvard Yard full of anticipation.






But of course I should have known that it would not be so easy! Just days after the snow storm, the temperature had shot up to nearly 50°F by mid-day and when I arrived the rink was closed "due to weather." So, I have yet to go skating. But at least I tried. And I'll try again as soon as the temperature drops and my schedule allows.




Cycling past the rink last week, I did notice the skates they were using and was a little disappointed that they were a sort of brownish-beige. I want some white ones like I had before, and am thinking that maybe I should get a new pair of my own. Third time could be a charm, and I might actually learn how to skate... though I'm not holding my breath!

Tangled Roots :: Time for a Change

Saturday, September 29th - - The sign at Beverly Beach State Park in Oregon states that this is an Ancient Stump that goes...

“Back to the dawn of the bronze age! This root mass was one of many buried beneath the beaches along the Oregon Coast between Newport and Neskowin. It once supported a spruce tree, which was buried when the land suddenly dropped into the sea. It remained preserved beneath the sand for 4,100 years before surfacing and breaking free in 1998. Violent winter storms washed it into the mouth of Spencer Creek in 1999.”

The root mass was quite large, perhaps 25-30 feet in diameter and appeared to be of one piece. An amazing thing, regardless of its age, with roots going off in all directions and twisting and curving around each other.



Monday, October 3rd - - The few days I had here on the coast of Oregon were incredibly nice. The weather forecast was as nice as was predicted, and as predicted the clouds and rain returned. It's time for a change...



After a great deal of thought, and realizing (among other things) that I'm just plain tired after being "on the road" for most of the last two years, I've decided to take a break from the travels for a while. I'm not saying the journey is at an end, in some regards it may just be beginning! Yes, that's rather cryptic. Sort of follows the mood I'm in at the moment.



I've been heading east for the last two days, but not back to Indiana, at least not just yet. I'll be making a stop in Salt Lake City to do some research (for an undetermined, indefinite period of time). The ancestors have been calling me and I think the time has come that more of them will reveal themselves to me! That's what I'm hoping for... The answers are out there, somewhere, the very least I can do is go and look for them. Perhaps I can make my way through the maze of tangled roots in my family tree and expose them for their descendants to see...

Car Talk... Recollections of a Wilted Romance

Here is a confession: I feel guilty about my car - or rather, what used to be my car.My poor car, once so beloved! I received it as a gift from my family six years ago, after I earned my doctorate and was about to start a new job in a mountainous region of Northern New England. It was the most lavish gift I have received in my life by far, either before or since, and I was filled with gratitude and disbelief. The car was beautiful and impeccably tasteful and rugged, and my excitement knew no bounds. The exterior was a lovely shade of dark gray and the interior was beige suede (I still remember the texture and smell of the seats when the car was new). The 4WD, the optional manual mode, and the myriad of safety features would keep me protected on the treacherous terrain of the place I was to live (and commute for over 20 miles to work). I named the car, and loved it as if it were a puppy. And I delighted in my long commutes - through the valleys past idyllic farm scenes and along dangerous mountain cliffs through the clouds of thick fog that would rise in the mornings.




Everybody was relieved at my reaction to the car, because I had never been an enthusiastic driver in my previous attempts at car ownership. By my early twenties I had dispensed with cars altogether, living in urban areas where they weren't necessary. Interestingly, this was viewed by many as a lack of self-sufficiency on my part: By living in cities, not practicing driving, and allowing my already questionable motoring skills to deteriorate, I was making myself dependent on urban comforts and public transportation. This new job in a rural area demanded a re-adjustment.





My romance with the new car lasted into winter... until I got into a horrifying accident involving darkness, black ice,fresh snow,a cliff and a railing - into which I crashed head-on after losing control on a turn. Miraculously, I emerged unscathed. And though the front end of the car was totaled, my insurance company came through wonderfully and soon the car was good as new. According to the policemen on the scene, that stretch of the road was so bad that night, that "there was nothing anyone could have done different, except not be out on the road". Not an option of course, when commuting home from a long workday.



I cannot say that I began to dislike or fear cars after this event; it was nothing so dramatic or definite. And I continued to drive throughout that winter and the next, in the same dangerous snow and ice, with no further mishaps. But I no longer thought of my car anthropomorphically, no longer considered it cute. It had become just a thing - a necessary thing, but a dangerous one, too, as well as a stuffy and oppressive one at times. Somehow I no longer saw the charm in the beige suede interior or the beauty of the tasteful gray exterior. It was just a car - something that made sense to use only when the necessity outweighed the danger and the feeling of stuffiness, but not otherwise. It was an excellent car, to be sure - useful especially in rural areas, and great for hauling things in its roomy interior. But just a car.





Several years after I got married, we moved to Boston. Within a week, we decided that the Co-Habitant would sell his car and mine would be shared. This was in no way driven by "ideology" on our part; it was simply absurdly inconvenient to have two cars in Boston, and since his was larger than mine, it was the one to go.




When the decision was made to share my car, I hardly suspected that I would never drive it again, but that is exactly what happened. I have not been behind the wheel of it or any other motor vehicle since sometime in 2007, over three years ago now. I have no idea why, and it was never my intention to categorically stop driving. But soon I found that I would rather walk to my destination for an hour than drive there (which was exactly what I did before I started cycling). What used to be my car now pretty much belongs to the Co-Habitant; I experience no feelings of possession when I look at it or sit in the passenger's seat while traveling together.





Will I drive again? Realistically speaking, I probably will, though I don't know when that might be. I am not "anti-car" and consider cars to be useful and necessary in many circumstances. But I cannot imagine wanting to drive just for the sake of it, or loving a car in the same way as I do my bicycles.

The Bella Ciao 'Superba' - My Take on the Italian City Bicycle

As mentioned previously, I am collaborating with the small European manufacturer, Bella Ciao, in developing my own version of their classic lady's bicycle model. This special edition bicycle will be available in late Spring , exclusively at Harris Cyclery in West Newton, MA. I do not yet have a prototype to show you, but upon reader request I am making the announcement regardless. Read on for all the details!



About the Project

Last year I received a 'Corvo Citta Donna' bicycle (shown above with stock everything, other than the saddle and kickstand) from Bella Ciaoas part of a barter exchange. My impression of the bicycle (you can read the reviewhere) was very positive, but of course not without criticism. Basically, I absolutely love the frame design, the quality of construction, and the handling. But were it my bike, my choice of components would have been different. There was some debate about this between myself and Bella Ciao, andthey did not agree with my criticism. But they found my point of view interesting. And after some back and forth, they invited me to put together my own version of thebicycle - and I gladly accepted. Bella Ciao has now made a deal with Harris Cyclery, who will sell the bicycles in the US. If all goes according to plan, they should be available by May . My role in the project is that of a consulting designer.



[the "Maestro," image via Bella Ciao]

About Bella Ciao

Describing their take on bicycles as "the poetry of freedom,"Bella Ciaois a small company based in Berlin with an attitude that is both serious and tongue-in-cheek. Bella Ciaoframes are handbuilt in Northern Italy by a family of framebuilders who have been in business since 1898 (see image above). They are then powdercoated and built up in Germany. The standard line-up includes cro-moly men's and lady's city models, deluxemen's and lady's models with Columbus tubing, and a single speed/ fixed gear model. There are occasional special edition bicycles as well. You can read about all of these on their website in German and English.



Why I like Bella Ciao bicycles

While I find the bicycles beautiful, what really attracts me is the performance. Of all the upright bicycles I have tried, I have found my Bella Ciao bike superior for long rides, and especially for hills. I do not say that lightly. It is an easy bike in every respect: easy to ride, easy to carry, easy to own. Additionally, I like it thatBella Ciao frames are fully lugged , including the fork crown. And they are handmade. There are other terrific details, such as the proprietary handlebars and wheels (yes, they make their own). All this is becoming increasingly rare even with classic modern bicycles.



The Bella Ciao 'Superba'

The Bella Ciao 'Superba' (pronounced: "su-PAIR-bah") will be a special edition lady's bicycle with a lightweight cro-moly frame, a Sturmey Archer 3-speed hub, cream Schwalbe Delta Cruiser tires, dynamo lighting and a rear rack. The specs as they currently are:



frame, chaincase, fenders

Based on Bella Ciao's cro-moly Corvo Citta Donna (lady's) frame with the classic "Frascona curve" of the top tube, with the additional feature of internal routing for the dynamo lighting; complemented by a full (two-sided) chaincase with opening at the rear and fenders.



size

The frames are 54cm and will fit ladies 5'5" - 5'10." To give you an idea of fit, I am 5'7" and this is how I look on my bike. The model in the pictures here is 5'10".



colour

The colour will be custom to this edition, most likely some shade of pastel green. Not the same green as you see on my bike (I think it's a bit too military for most people), but perhaps some version of sage. Or maybe not green at all and I'll have a reader's vote at a later point?



wheels and tires

700C proprietary Bella Ciao wheel rims of light, high-polish alloy, with cream Schwalbe Delta Cruiser tires.



gearing and brakes

3-speed Sturmey Archer hub with coaster brake, classic trigger shifter; front caliper brake with classic chrome city brake lever.



handlebars

"Deluxe" (high polish) alloy Bella Ciao bars. The model I like are a sort of hybrid between Porteur and North Road style bars. Posssibly my favourite handlebars for a city bike thus far.



accessories

Brooks B72 saddle in antique brown, special grips TBA, brass bell



lighting

Internally routed, hub-generated dynamo lighting, front and rear, with standlight feature; classic look.



rear rack

There will be a rear rack that will elegantly suit the frame, and I am currently working out the details. If all goes well, it will be a custom handmade rack - fingers crossed!



weight

Including rack and lighting, total weight is likely to be around 33lb.



retail price

The price of the complete bicycle will be $1,490



availability

The 'Superba' will be at Harris Cyclery by May . There will be 12 bicycles available.Harris Cyclery will take pre-orders with a non-refundable $300 deposit. If you would like to pre-order, please contact Elton Pope-Lance at 'elton[at]harriscyclery[dot]net'. I believe that 11 9 of the 12 bicycles remain at the moment. I am not involved in the sale of the bicycles, so please contact Harris Cyclery and not me with questions about purchasing.



Will you like this bicycle?

As someone who does not believe in "the" perfect bicycle, I can only say that it depends. What are you looking for? What features please or disappoint you in your current or previous bicycle? Or are you just looking for something different? Bella Ciao bicycles are light, elegant, nimble, and easy uphill. They are also comfortable and very simple. If you live in a hilly area and struggle with a Dutch or English Roadster-style bike, a Bella Ciao could be the perfect solution. However, if you need to transport 50lb of groceries and two children as part of your daily routine, I think there are more appropriate options. You might also find it helpful to read this post, comparing the different categories of upright bikes that are currently out there.



[edited to add:] As for my version of the bicycle specifically, please understand that it is exactly that - my version. Obviously it will not suit everyone's tastes, but I hope it will appeal to a dozen people in North America who cannot find what they are looking for elsewhere. If there is popular demand for an alternative version (non-coaster brake, diamond frame, etc), there could be another batch later. Also, for those interested in the standard production Bella Ciao models, there is a possibility that Harris Cyclery may be selling them in future - please express your interest to them directly.



I will post pictures once the 'Superba' prototype is built up, but realistically that will not be for at least another month. I will also write in more detail about being involved in this project, as some might find it interesting to know more about the industry. This has certainly been an educational experience for me so far, and I hope you like the end result. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask.

Blue Dawn, Sunset on Magnet Island

Roger (www.rogernordstromphoto.com) was up again this weekend for some more shooting. I first met Roger last October when he contacted me asking if I would be willing to take him down to the Spirit Tree to shoot a sunrise. We did just that, but the morning that we went there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Ever since then Roger has been wanting to get back to the tree for another sunrise, hopefully with clouds this time. Well, we went down to the tree this morning and this time we had some beautiful clouds!





We arrived well before sunrise so we could make plenty of images in the low light before the sun broke the horizon. My favorite image of the morning is the one at the beginning of this entry, which I call "Blue Dawn". This image is a 90 second exposure, and the streaks in the sky are from clouds that were being pushed across the sky rather quickly by the wind.





After shooting the sunrise I had to go to work for the day, but Roger and I made plans to meet up again after work. I told him if the lake was calm that evening, we would head out to the Susie Islands to shoot the sunset. As luck would have it, the lake was nice and calm that evening so we loaded our gear into the boat and I headed for Magnet Island, which is probably my favorite place in Grand Portage to shoot the sunset. This was Roger's first trip to the Susie Islands, and after our evening of shooting he said "I decided that anytime you want to head out to Magnet Island, I'm game!" I guess that means he liked it :-)

Tieton River Climbing ..

Julie injured her foot in Montreal. So mountain excursions were out of the question as should could barely walk at times. So, she was interested in some rock climbing. Due to her injury, and the suspect weather forecast for Leavenworth, we decided to see what Tieton was all about. The forecast for Tieton was to be 60° and mostly sunny. Since it is a two and a half hour drive, we left Seattle at 5am to maximize our climbing. This was unfortunate, as when we first arrived in the parking lot around 7:40am, it was still quite chilly.

We figured we'd warm up on the hike (about a quarter mile of trail - the second half uphill.) When we got to the base of the climbs, it was windy and in the shade. It felt even colder than the parking lot. We sized up our first climb, and neither of us were willing to start climbing due to the cold. Since we were the only ones there, we left our packs, and headed back to the car where the sun was shining. As we got to the car, a few other climbers showed up. We chatted, and decided to drive down the road to check out "The Bend," another area of Tieton climbing. (We were at Royal Columns.) After our short drive and a stop at the toilet, we headed back up to the crag.

Once there, we put on all the clothes we had, and started slowly to do our first climb. The first choice was the three star Western Front (5.3). We started easy to gauge how tough the climbing would be. Tieton has a reputation for having stiff grading, but we didn't really think so. I will say, that the climbing is fairly steep for the grade in concern to Western Front. I led the route, and found it very heady, as many of my gear placements were not ideal. The climbing is crack climbing between the andesite columns and the moves were pretty straightforward. However, I found gear placement to be difficult, and some of my gear to be suspect. Julie followed the route and saw the difficult placements. One of the issues I had with gear was that I neglected to bring up a #4 Camalot, because the guide book said gear to 2.5". This was regrettable, as there were multiple good locations for it along the route.

First cold lead of day

After completing the route, I ran down near the car (and sun) to warm up a bit. I returned as the sun started lighting the tops of the columns where Julie had waited for me. It was somewhat warmer now, but still chilly. But the sun was starting to heat the columns, and it was around 11am.

Julie led out on the next route, The Rap Route (5.5). It was a short stem/chimney, that became a crack above a short column. The route did not feel any harder than Western Front, but seemed to have easier gear placements. After I followed, and we rapped from the top, we contemplated our next move.

Now that the sun was out we decided to eat lunch and relax on some rocks at the base of the columns to warm up a bit. We briefly sought out our next objective, but returned to the rock when we realized how windy it was just around the corner from our lounging spot. After more relaxing, we finally got up to do our next route.

It was my lead, and I chose Good Timer (5.4) because the small roof on Slacker (5.4) scared me off a bit. (That and Slacker was more in the shade and seemed to be windier.) Good Timer had some loose rock on it, and again was somewhat difficult to protect. The climbing was fine, but nothing remarkable. After I led it, Julie cleaned it and we contemplated our next move.

We found a route on the far left that looked interesting to us. Julie asked if I would lead it, and so I gave in. It wasn't in our guide book, so we weren't sure of the grade at the time I started up. The route seemed to be a lower angle than our previous routes, except for the last 6-8'. About a third of the way up it had a small crack which was too small for my fingers except at the very top of it. I worked my way around it to the right and made my way up the rest of the pitch. I found this route to be the most enjoyable climbing of the four we did. Perhaps it was because it took gear better and I felt better protected because of it? Perhaps it was just the route? After we climbed it, we borrowed another climber's guide book in the parking lot and found out the route was a 5.7. ("The finger crack" which I bypassed probably gave it that rating.)

After that, we left for home.

My take on Tieton is that the rock is slightly better than at Vantage, but still quite dubious. The climbing is fairly interesting and enjoyable if you can look past this issue. However, it is difficult, especially when leading to get over this. After Julie followed Good Timer, she told me she thought the whole column was going to fall. I found myself more concentrated at times on the pro and its ability to protect a fall, than on the climbing itself. The terrain is somewhat different than Vantage as well, as it is a greener part of Central Washington. I'll probably return to Tieton at some point, but not likely soon.

A few more pics located here.

Modern Times (5.8+) and the Alleged Gunks Sandbag

(Photo: Holy bird poop, Batman!! That block on the High E ledge is really coated with guano at the moment.)



After beginning our day with the amazing double whammy of Erect Direction to CCK Direct, Dana and I started walking down the cliff. Dana was thinking about leading Obstacle Delusion (5.9).



But we didn't make it to Obstacle Delusion. Our journey was cut short at the High E buttress when Dana asked me an innocent question.



"You've done Modern Times, right?"



I had to admit that I had not.



It was a big hole in my climbing resume. Honestly, how can any self-respecting Gunks blogger NOT have climbed Modern Times (5.8+)?



It just never seemed like the right moment, I guess. On October 25, , I had driven to the Gunks determined to climb Modern Times with Nani. But the climb was soaking wet after the previous night's heavy rain, so we went and did Insuhlation (5.9) instead. And you know, dear reader, how that worked out.



Since then I had never made Modern Times a priority. I figured I'd get around to it some day, but whenever I thought about doing it the climb was occupied, or I was with someone who'd done it recently, or (I may as well admit it) it seemed a little too scary.



So there we were, Dana and I, on this beautiful Saturday, standing before the climb. And it was wide open. Dana said I had to do it, and that having just led CCK Direct I would be absolutely fine.



This was just the encouragement I needed.



Dana was up to lead pitch one if I wanted him to. But it was old hat for him so he offered both pitches to me. I was more than willing to lead them both. As I set off on the 5.7 pitch one, I felt a little bit tingly all over. This was a big deal, and we'd just sort of stumbled into it. It hadn't even occurred to me that we might climb Modern Times today, on March 17, right at the start of the season.



Does any other climb have such a reputation for high quality, and for difficulty beyond its grade?



From the ground, it certainly looks terrifying. A gigantic arch guards the top of the cliff. The climber must exit to the right through the roofs at the top of the arch. The moves look huge. And these moves are above big air. It is a sheer drop of hundreds of feet to the ground.



I'd heard all the tips and the rumors. I knew not to get suckered into wasting my energy going up to the distinctive sideways tree that sits above the initial overhang. It was better, I'd heard, to stay low and move to the right. I was also aware that some kind of secret rest supposedly existed in the middle of the overhangs. I had been told, as well, that short people couldn't grab the final shelf without cutting their feet loose. Finally, I recalled hearing something about the finishing mantle being difficult, but couldn't quite remember the details. Would I find it easier to mantle up if I hand-traversed far to the right along the final ledge? Or was there some hidden pebble for my toe that I was supposed to look for?



These issues could wait, since I first had to dispense with pitch 1.



I found this pitch to be kind of humdrum. The climbing is clean and pleasant in much the same way that the 5.4 pitch one of No Glow is clean and pleasant. Which is to say it is rather unremarkable. And it seemed a bit soft to me for 5.7. The little ceiling at the end of the pitch, which I suppose is the crux, is easier in my opinion than the one on first pitch of the neighboring climb The Last Will Be First (5.6). Nothing wrong with the pitch, but nothing to write home about either.





(Photo: I asked Dana to get a photo of me on Modern Times, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt: a blurry shot of the overhang, sans climber. Now I have no proof I actually climbed it!)



Here's another dark secret about Modern Times: pitch two isn't the greatest either, at least until you get to the overhang. All the climbing up until the crux is pretty easy, and the pro isn't optimal. You start up a right-facing corner. I got in a little nut near the bottom. You could put gear at the top of the corner as well, but I chose not to because I didn't want unnecessary drag as I moved to the right. Then as the climb moves towards the top of the arch you ascend a massive left-facing flake, which turns out to be less a flake than a big stack of blocks leaning against the face of the cliff. These blocks probably aren't going anywhere (they are quite large), but still I wasn't thrilled about the idea of placing any pieces in between them, instead finding the few placements I could in the wall to the left and behind the blocks.



If I arrived at the crux wondering what the fuss was all about, my doubts were immediately dispelled by a glance at the next sequence.



The path upward is easy to spot-- I don't know why anyone is suckered into going up to the tree. Probably these tree-huggers know they are making a mistake, but don't wish to confront the alternative: committing to the correct path by leaning waaaaay out over an empty expanse to the first holds, which takes quite the gut check.



I certainly hesitated a bit, though less than I did at the crux of CCK Direct. The pro is great. I placed pieces (with extended slings) in both the undercling crack under the roof and out by the first of the roof holds before I committed to the moves.



And once I leaned out to the first hold, it was on! A quick couple of moves on jugs led to the mid-point, where I was able to place another dynamite cam-- you have a big horizontal and a vertical crack to work with here.



I think this is the "secret rest" spot, and I may even have unlocked the secret by propping up a left foot on a high hold and dropping my knee while I placed a cam. But I didn't stop afterwards to try to contrive a real rest, because it was just one more move to the final overhang. The end was near and there was no reason to wait.



Moving up to the final shelf, I saw absolutely no need to cut the feet-- the footholds were great throughout, actually. And there was no trick to the mantle either, as far as I could tell. There is a great little horizontal crack for a high step at any number of locations. Get your weight over the high foot and push up, people!



I hope that by attempting to dispel a few myths about Modern Times I don't make it sound like the climb is not wonderful. To the contrary, the crux sequence consists of four or five of the most exhilarating moves the Gunks has to offer. I found the crux absolutely thrilling. Once I successfully mantled up to the shelf, I let out the biggest yell ever.



And the shelf onto which you emerge is perhaps the best belay spot in the Gunks. You are still 20 or 30 feet from the top, and you can keep going and belay above in the trees if you like. If you have any doubt about your partner's ability to climb through the roofs, however, you'd be advised to belay from the shelf so you can coach your partner on the art of prussik ascending when he or she falls off and can't get back on.



I had no such doubts about Gunks institution Dana Bartlett, of course, but I couldn't resist building a belay and having a seat on this perfect little park bench in the sky. Sitting there, I could reflect on the scenery and the sensational climbs we'd already knocked off on this great early season Saturday.





(Photo: Looking down pitch one of Carbs and Caffeine, which is either 5.8 or 5.9-, depending on who you believe.)



As I sat there reflecting, I decided that Modern Times is not a sandbag at 5.8+. I came to the conclusion that it was easier for me than CCK Direct so I guessed the 5.8+ was about right. The crux of Modern Times also features the type of climbing (overhanging jugs) that we gym climbers of today are accustomed to, so really the rating should be uncontroversial. I think the only reason people consider it such a sandbag is its rather incredible position and exposure, which don't exactly make the moves more difficult but which certainly add to the overall challenge.



I actually think I experienced two bigger 5.8 sandbags in the very same weekend I climbed Modern Times.



The first was Dirty Gerdie, the supposed 5.8+ that ascends the middle of the face of Gerdie Block. I had put a toprope over this climb twice before, the last time two years ago. This year's attempt (on my wet Friday in the Gunks with Franz) was the first time I ever managed to climb it cleanly on the first try. It is tough to get the first crux move, which involves matching a foot to one hand while trying to reach ever-so-slowly with the other hand up a featureless face for an invisible, tiny crimp. The next move, smearing the feet on nothing at all while locking off and reaching for a jug, is no picnic either.



5.8+? My ass.



The second 5.8 sandbag of the weekend was the first pitch of Carbs and Caffeine, which Dick simply calls plain old 5.8-- no plus sign. I led it later in the day with Dana after Modern Times. It was my first time doing the pitch and if you take a look at the picture above (click on it to enlarge) you may notice that I placed a rather large number of protective pieces. This was because I thought it was hard and that I might slip off, pretty much the whole way up! The entire pitch involves off-vertical thin face climbing, and I felt insecure, especially at the crux finishing moves, where the hands are not so positive and the footholds are the tiniest indentations. The protection crack at the crux takes only micronuts; I managed to slot two of them. Luckily I didn't slip and test the nuts, but I thought they were good.



I felt sandbagged by Carbs and Caffeine, maybe even more so than by Dirty Gerdie. When I found out that Swain calls it 5.9- I felt somewhat vindicated.



But maybe I was wrong about both Dirty Gerdie and Carbs and Caffeine. Maybe these climbs just involve specific skills that I'm less comfortable with. The foot/hand match that I employed on Dirty Gerdie, for example, is a popular solution to many Gunks climbs with long reaches between good edges, and the entry level for this move seems to be 5.8. (Think of both Arrow and Three Doves.) You won't find this move much in a gym, which adds to its unfamiliarity for today's climbers. To the experienced Gunkie maybe it isn't a big deal at all.



And of course the same can be said for less-than-vertical thin face climbing. You won't find anything like it in a gym, so it's no surprise a climber like me feels insecure doing it. When I lowered to the ground and watched Dana follow my lead of Carbs and Caffeine I learned that slabby climbing can feel more slippery than it really is. I could see just how much of his shoe was in contact with the rock in the places where I thought I was standing on nothing. Maybe I wasn't as close to sliding off as I feared I was.



It all depends on what you're used to. But Modern Times? We're all used to the type of climbing you'll find on that one. It's really exciting, but it's no sandbag.

Cycling and Suffering

In my view, the most unfortunate myth about cycling for transportation is that it is difficult. Understandably, this is how non-cyclists often perceive it - due to the overabundance of athletic cyclists and heavily armoured utility cyclists on the roads in comparison to cyclists who look like regular people. But even among the "everyday cyclists", I feel that there is a tendency to focus on the challenging aspects of riding a bike in a way that takes pride in these challenges and thereby dwells on them: the pain of cycling uphill, the heroics of cycling in cold weather, the battle of cycling in traffic... Come on, be fair! Cycling is fun and convenient, giving us the most independence and flexibility of all other transport options. Compared to the poor drivers stuck in traffic and the users of public transportpushing their ways through overcrowded buses, we coast through life with smiles on our faces.



[image via BostonBiker.org]

Reading Boston Bikerthis week, I was reminded of my all time favourite misrepresentation of cycling's "difficulties": Our love of exaggerating thefortitude of cycling in the rain.On cycling blogs, we often read stories that describe a non-cyclist asking a cyclist, "But what do you do when it rains?" and the cyclist replying "I get wet!" After this exchange is retold in the blog post, the author will then muse about how people nowadays are out of touch with the elements, and how ridiculous it is that "the car culture" has taught us to fear getting rained on. This, however, is simply untrue. Car culture did not teach us to dislike getting rained on. Seeking protection from the elements is a natural impulse that has been with us pretty much forever. In non-car-oriented societies people still use umbrellas and hide under awnings. Cave people sought shelter in caves. It is completely normal not to want to get rained on on the way to work or a date, so that we can both arrive in dignity and not come down with the flu the next day.



[image viaBostonBiker.org]

Cyclists however, sometimes seem to experience pride from getting soaking wet in the rain, and this pride translates into projecting an intimidating image to those who do not ride a bike. The non-cyclist is given to understand, that in order to embrace cycling they must accept the idea that getting wet is "normal" rather than something to be avoided... In other words, to accept an idea that goes against people's natural instincts since the dawn of civilization.



I don't know about you. But when a non-cyclist asks me what I do when it rains, I reply that I wear a raincoat. When a non-cyclist asks me about hills, I explain that I switch to a lower gear and pedaling gets easy again. And when a non-cyclist asks me whether I am scared of traffic, I point out that it was less scary than driving once I got used to it. And all of these things are true. Why tell them I am suffering, when I am not?

Change in Guardianship for the Fisher Children - 1847

In the will of Michael Fisher, signed by him on March 19th 1845, he appointed John Shear and Christian Grosman as guardians for his children. This record changes the guardian to Robert Reed. These records were located back in the mid 198Os when I was just starting research on my families and I don't recall now whether I couldn't find additional records at that time or if I just didn't look any further. It seems like there should have been additional records since the guardians were supposed to make periodic reports to the courts. I need to investigate to see who John Shear, Christian Grosman, and Robert Reed were and to see if they are related to the Fisher family in some way. There should also be a record of the sale of the property that Michael willed to his wife Christenia. Lair Fisher is most likely the daughter Leah who was named in Michael's Will. The oldest daughter, 18 year old Louisa, is not mentioned in this guardianship record. She would marry Jacob Phend on August 27th 1847, eleven days after this record was dated.

Spelling and punctuation retained as in the original. Paragraph breaks added.

Carroll County, Ohio Probate Record C August Term 1847

page 52 (The top portion of the page is concluding another case, signed by WR Lloyd, Clerk)

Caroleine Fisher. Catherine Fisher. Sophia Fisher. Rachel Fisher. Samuel Fisher. Lair Fisher. Solomon Fisher. Lydia Fisher} Minors.

Be it remembered that heretofore towit: at a Court of Common Pleas began and held at the Court House in Carrollton, within and for the County of Carroll and State of Ohio, on Monday the 16th day of August AD 1847. on the first day of said Term. Caroline Fisher & Catherine Fisher came into Court and chose Robert Reed to be their Guardian who is approved as such by the Court, and on motion the Court appoint Said Robert Reed to be the Guardian of Sophia, Rachel, Samuel, Lair, Solomon and Lydia Fisher. Thereupon Said Robert Reed gave bond to the State of Ohio in the sum of One Hundred Dollars Conditioned according to Law with John Reed his Surety who is accepted as such by the Court.

Thereupon Letters of Guardianship issued to said Robert Reed, as follows, to wit.

The State of Ohio Carroll county } By the Honorable John

page 53
Pearce. President of the Court of Common Pleas for the fifth Circuit in Ohio. Thomas Cummings. John Ebersole and John S. Hunter Esquire, Associate Judges of said Court in and for the County of Carroll, To Robert Reed. Greeting! Be it Known that the Said Judges, confiding in your care, prudence and fidelity have by these presents, Appointed Robert Reed Guardian for Caroline Fisher, Catherine Fisher, Sophia Fisher, Rachel Fisher, Samuel Fisher, Lair Fisher, Solomon Fisher, Lydia Fisher, minor children and hers at law of Michael Fisher late of the county of Carroll, deceased investing you the said Robert Reed with full power and authority for them and to their use, to ask, demand, sue for receive and take into your possession and Custody all and Singular, such parts and portions of Estate both real and personal, which is or may be coming to them as heirs to the Estate of the Said Michael Fisher deceased. or which by any other way or means whatsoever doth of right belong them the said minors, and to manage, employ and improve the same for the best advantage and profit during their minority. and to do all and whatsoever May be Necessary to be done in and about the premises As fully and Effectually to all intents and purposes. As they might or could do personally, being of full age.

In testimony Whereof, I William R. Lloyd Clerk of Said Court have hereunto set my hand and affixed the Seal of Said Court at Carrollton, this 16th day of August, Anno Domini, one thousand Eight hundred and forty Seven. W R Lloyd Clerk, By Geo F Kenedy, D. C.

Warmer

I'm not sure what happened to spring. The days are consistently in the 80°s now. It's been over 90°.

(That's about 30°C and 33°C, respectively.)

I want to go wading.

I'll probably have to wear my shoes though, or buy some of those sock-shoe combos made to wear in the water. The creek looks idyllic, but a lot gets washed into it. More rusty metal and glass than you'd think.

My grandfather lived by a small creek when I was a kid. There were even concrete steps leading down to it, which I loved. You could sit on the steps and still dangle your feet in the water. Back then the biggest worry about wading was the slippery rock problem, which often led to a soggy backside problem.

These are The Faces of Genealogy

Henry and Susie Phend with their great grandchildren on the celebration of their 60th wedding anniversary, September 2, 1952. That's me on the left side, sitting on the ground. My brothers, Doug and Jack, are between me and Susie. Doug was 5, I was 4, and Jack was 3 years old. The other kids are first and second cousins. They are just part of the reason I “got into” genealogy.



I'm a little behind in my blog reading... and saw this post late yesterday afternoon, which explains why I'm posting this photograph, which is one of my favorites.



Due to the amazing response of the genealogy-blogging community, the offensive photo was removed from the online article.

Wordless Wednesday :: Schooldaze ~ Second Grade