The Sky is a Happening Place

The thing about the weather on the coast of Northern Ireland, is not that it's good, bad, cold or warm, but that it changes rapidly and constantly. "Four seasons in a day," they say here.




But it's more than about changes in temperature and precipitation. The real action is in the sky. There is drama there - a celestial theater that I could stand and watch for hours. The cloud formations, like temperamental actors rushing about the stage, appear to feed off of each other's emotions. Plots thicken. Characters develop. Tempers fly. Action builds up toward crescendos. The end of an act can be explosive, or anti-climactic. Curtains close, then open again for the next act.




Here one cloud approaches another, pressingly, entreatingly. The object of its attention demurs. Like characters in a Chekhov play, they engage in a moody, fateful struggle. Tragically but also coyly, they dance over the peak of the mountain - back and forth, back and forth, until finally they collide - turning into a different creature entirely and swooping down to swallow the mountain whole. A roar of applause.




In my winter clothes I stand on the beach of Castle Rock on a June afternoon and watch all this, my bike propped against the stone wall. There are only two colours: beige and blue. There are only two entities: sky and earth. And in the moment, this seems like all there is, or ever was, or ever will be. It is more than enough.

Little Annapurna

The group decided to go on another ambitious day trip. We chose Little Annapurna, in the Stuart Range. The climb was not very difficult, it just had a long approach. It was hard to keep our eyes on the trail with Ingalls Creek providing such awesome views!





After 7 miles, we left the trail and headed cross country up towards the peak.


This part of the trip consisted of going over, under and around large granite boulders.









The dry gully leading to the South face.



We were really pleased to find some water up high, since we, uh, sort of waited too long to refill our water bottles.







The South Face of Little Annapurna.





Mark at a belay station. Jim and Dave had gone up a different route. Dave is looking over the edge






Jim, Mark, Doug and Dave on top. The rock formations are incredible everywhere you look!







Jim boot-skiing down.









There are numerous beautiful lakes, like this one, all over the Stuart Range.








Prussik Peak is on our short list of Mountains to climb. The long approach seemed twice as long on the way out even though it is downhill. As we hiked out in the dark, using our headlamps, we couldn't stop thinking about the cougar tracks we had seen earlier. It was another great day with friends in an awesome part of creation!

Beal Unicore

The new "Gully" from Beal is a 7.3 rated double and twin rope with Unicore construction @ 36g/m




available Jan/Feb 2014
















http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YwtbKe4Vfag&list=PLEB14971E3A7B76D4

Night Time in the North Country

Here's another Aurora shot from last night. This one was taken just after 3:00 AM as the sky was starting to show the very first hints of daylight. Contrary to what this photo may lead you to believe, the clouds were NOT moving fast in this exposure. In fact, they were barely moving at all. Usually you only get this effect with the clouds when they are moving quickly through the scene. This was a 30 second exposure, but the clouds moved very little in that time.They held this "streaking" formation for close to an hour. It was one of the coolest skies that I have ever seen.

Rock Bear

Every time I see this rock out in this meadow I think it looks like a large bear standing on it's hind legs scratching its back against the other rocks. You can see the ear at the highest point, then the head and nose, from legs with paws dangling, belly and back legs. Or is it just my excessive imaganation?

Quick, Healthy, Brazing-Inspired Dessert

The main thing you are taught when learning to braze a bicycle frame, is temperature control. For instance: When brazing a lugged joint, the tube, the lug, the flux (gooey stuff the joint is smeared with) and the silver you add all heat up at different rates - and what you try to do is get them to the point where they are in sync. I thought about this as I eyed the pile of fruit and berries I'd brought home from the grocery store. I wanted to make dessert for the husband, and his request was something healthy and light. I decided to keep it simple and approach it as I would brazing: First I'd heat up the thick, heavy ingredients, adding the delicate, leaky ones after the overall temperature was sufficiently hot. Here is the result:



Autumnal Fruit and Nut Medley



Ingredients:

apples

cranberries

blackberries

blueberries

walnuts

lemon

honey

bourbon



Preparation time:

7 minutes



Instructions:

In a bowl, mix a bunch of hard sliced apples with a fistful of crushed walnuts and a fistful of raw cranberries. Add a spoon of lemon juice, a spoon of honey and a shot of bourbon. Heat in microwave for 2.5 minutes or in oven (in appropriate container) until apples turn soft. Alternatively, if preparing in workshop, you could use a brazing torch (held upside down and pointed at the bottom of the bowl - as you would heat a bottom bracket). Let sit for 30 seconds. Add blackberries and blueberries. Heat for additional 1 minute or just long enough for berries to release colour onto the rest of the concoction. Remove, let cool for a bit, and serve with tea.



This dish is basically like a fruit tart, only without the dough. Tastes surprisingly good, looks festive and takes very little effort to prepare. Want to make it less healthy? Add whipped cream.



Enjoy your Sunday evening!

Zebra Longwings

Zebra Longwings, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

Zebra longwing butterflies at the Golden Gate Park Conservatory of Flowers in San Francisco.

They're hosting a live butterfly exhibit right now...

Burnout

It used to surprise me when cyclists talked about burnout. Oh no, it could never happen to me. Cycling is my refuge. I need it. I crave it. But of course, that's just the thing: When we feel that way about something, we want to do a whole lot of it. And when we do a whole lot of something, it is possible to overdo it - to burn out.




It's happened to me three times so far. Each case was fairly minor, but felt catastrophic at the time.To look at my bike and not want to ride is a dreadful feeling. What if I never want to ride again? I cannot continue that train of thought.




The first two times it happened were nearly identical. They were working vacation type of situations at the end of summers and . I could only take one bike with me - a bike that would be used for everything from recreational rides, to commuting, to hauling equipment. I took the touring bike I owned at the time. Diamond frame, drop bars, racks, bags. Technically speaking, it did everything I needed it to do - from metric centuries to schlepping equipment back and forth over hills to riding through dense in-town traffic. But after a couple of weeks of this... It's hard to describe the feeling, but it was as if cycling felt heavy and tedious instead of light and liberating. I didn't want to look at drop bars or a diamond frame again. I didn't want to ride up hills with heavy bags again. It was just too much, I was sick of bikes! This state of mind lasted no more than a few weeks, but still it was horrible. After the second time I vowed not to repeat whatever had caused me to feel this way. Clearly riding a loaded touring bike long distances is not something I enjoy. Commuting on a diamond frame bike with drop bars is not something I enjoy. Combining the two, day after day, for weeks, is not a great idea. Lesson learned.




But then it happened a third time, and it was entirely different. Roadcycling. In retrospect I was probably pushing myself too close to my limits, but whatever warning signs there were I missed them. One day I was on an ecstatic high after yet another draining ride, and the next day I suddenly crashed, emotionally - exhausted not so much from the riding itself, as from being in pain every single day and realising that it would never, ever get easier. Suddenly the eagerness to ride just was not there, and in its place was depletion. I know, I could have used self-motivation tactics. But that is not how I view cycling. It should not get to the point where I need to motivate myself to ride. If it does, I don't ride. And so I didn't: For an entire two weeks. Then the sense of depletion left as suddenly as it had set in and I was back on the bike. But the experience changed me; I am more cautious now. How far is it safe to push myself without this horrible thing happening again? This is always in the back of my mind.




When cyclists talk about dealing with burnout, it is mostly about prevention. Some try to identify what it is that makes them overdo it, so that they know what to watch out for. Others take intentional breaks from cycling altogether. Once the burnout sets in, the solution is less clear. For me, focusing on a different type of cycling and/or bike does the trick - that and trying to remind myself that it's just a temporary state!

Understanding Hills

Like Eskimos are said to have many words for snow, it seems to me that cyclists ought to have many words for hills. After all, what does it really mean when terrain is described as "hilly?" There are the short city hills that only seem like hills when I ride my upright 3-speed, there are the long and annoying false flats, the rollers, the twisty hills, the mountain passes.My perception of hills also changes over time. Rides I considered hilly a year ago, I now think of as "mostly flat," in light of some other hills I've ridden. And then I get annoyed at myself, because I remember when others described those rides as "mostly flat" and I felt bad, because to me they certainly seemed hilly. Hills are a fluid concept.





The more hills I ride, the more I realise that steepness and duration alone are not what makes them easy or difficult for me. More than anything, the pattern of grade change can make all the difference between enjoying the challenge of the climb and hating it. On a hill with a consistent grade, I can "settle into" the climb, whereas a hill with erratic grade changes drains my energy much faster. In the picture here I am standing atop of a relatively mild, but much despised hill after just having climbed it. It's hard to explain why I hate this stretch of incline so much, but it messes with my head. Starting immediately after a traffic light near the center of Lexington, it initially acts like a normal hill and as I near the top, I feel a sense of accomplishment: almost made it. But just as I reach what appears to be the crest of it - and this gets me every time - not only does it continue, but suddenly it becomes steeper. That last stretch, usually with my gearing already maxed out, just always manages to drain my morale. By comparison, the nearby Page Hill is a more significant climb. But I find it easier to handle, because the grade transitions it goes though somehow feel more logical.



Lat week I got a new computer and it has this feature that shows the grade percentage. This little toy has made me ridiculously excited and I am finally getting a sense for what different grades feel like. It also allows me to quantify my suffering. A climb starts to feel effortful at 6%, difficult at 10% and when I got the "Mommy can I go home now?" feeling I glanced down to see 14%. I was also surprised to learn that the "flat" Minuteman Trail reaches a 4% grade in a couple of the false flat stretches. Are you falling asleep yet at this fascinating information?



I am told that lots of cyclists start out hating hills, but then grow to enjoy them more and more. It could be that I am in that category... how else could I enjoy making a game of guessing the grade?

Bowled Over

Kittens

Happy Birthday, Brother

My Brother, Jack Lynn Wiseman, was born on this date in 1949. In the picture below, I was 17 months old, Doug was 28 months old, and Jack was about 3 weeks old. He probably won't see this, but I was thinking about him. . .

Big Bend :: Laguna Meadows Trail

One of the highlights of any trip to Big Bend to to hike the South Rim Loop. As much as I wanted to, I really didn't think that I could handle the 13 mile round trip and 1800 foot ascent!

Instead, I chose one of the “feeder” trails that can be taken as part of the South Rim trek. This one takes you the 3.8 miles to Laguna Meadows, hence the name. Longer than the hike on the Lost Mine Trail, I really thought I could make it to the Meadows.

But probably about half way there, I realized it wasn't going to happen. My legs just couldn't handle all of the climbing. Way more switchbacks and a much more difficult trail. Several times I almost quit but a light snack and a drink of water would provide a much needed boost to get me a little further along.

And the views were fantastic. This one is looking towards the Window.

At one particularly disheartening moment, this beautiful bird flew by and stopped in the tree next to me. Its sweet song lifted my spirits and brightened an already wonderful day.

The view from where I turned around. Casa Grande on the right and the Basin to the left, center.

I hadn't seen another hiker all morning until reaching this point. We talked for a few minutes. She said that Laguna Meadows was about another mile down the trail and another two miles to the South Rim. She had left early that morning and had made it to the rim already, going out the other trail to the Pinnacles. She was heading back down on the Laguna Meadows Trail. I was nearly exhausted after just hiking 3 miles or so of the trail. I applauded her and envied her somewhat. But she was young, and trim, and obviously in good physical condition!

But we each have our limits, and I had reached mine on this day. After a short break, a snack and drink of water, I turned around and headed for home.

Photographs taken February 22, ...

What is it?

Speaking of foals. An email friend sent me a photo recently of a foal that is a cross between a zebra and a donkey. Now that critter is really cute. I WANT ONE.

Fashion Friday - It's a pants off!

The last week sawprobably the most exceptional pants wearingThe Cave has ever seen.









Frey Yulepulled off a stunning hibiscus board pant in bluewith a simple lemon chalk bag by Black Diamond and a translucent green denture brush.

jjobrienclimbing votes this look: Flawless





















Matt Walpole went all out Acid with awildPsy-Macaw Board Pant,

Dippers chalk bag in Acid Fluff with a deep pink plush lining (Aussie made too, that's nice)

framed in a Wild Country Syncro (way too many gear loops for practical sport climbing, but the added colour and structure works super, don't you think?)













Remember jjobrienclimbing says:Fashion iswhat separates climbers from monkeys.

It Sounded Too Good to Pass By

Last week, driving along Alabama Highway 72, on the way to Springfield, Missouri we noticed the signs announcing “Coon Dog Cemetery” but didn't have time to stop just then. However, on the way back to Huntsville we made time for a little excursion. Of course, we took the long way around and thought we'd never find it, but eventually it appeared alongside the back-country road.



To be honest, we were laughing and joking about going to a dog cemetery. Now, don't get me wrong, I love dogs and several years ago had to put old Bootsie to rest. It was one of the most emotional things I'd had to do up to that time. So I know how deep the affection can be.



The truth is, we were totally blown away by what we saw when we finally arrived at the cemetery. Nearly 200 coon dogs have been laid to rest in that small plot of ground. Most have markers of some kind – from rustic wooden crosses to fancy stones. And nearly all have flowers, albeit artificial, decorating their resting place. I think my friend Lorene would have enjoyed a stop here...





Only Cemetery of Its Kind In The World.Only Coon Hounds are allowed to be buried.Troop First Dog Laid to Rest here Sept. 4, 1937Please Be Careful With Fire!



Nearly all of the graves are lovingly decorated.



Coon Dog Cemetery came into existence on Labor Day of 1937, when Key Underwood sadly buried his faithful companion “Troop, who was half redbone coonhound and half birdsong, and who was known through out the region as the best. He was "cold nosed," meaning he could follow cold coon tracks until they grew fresh, and he never left the trail until he had treed the coon.”





Track “wasn't the best but he was the best I ever had.”



Ruff Redbone.



Black Ranger “was good as the best and better than the rest.



The variety of styles of markers was fascinating.



Train's grave was originally marked with a brick wrapped in butcher paper.



A traditional marker now marks the spot where Train was laid to rest.



Easy Going Sam was the “Last One on the Wood.”

That's his collar wrapped around the cross.



Looks like the Coon won out over Loud.



There were several markers like this – with the information punched out of metal.

For more information about Coon Dog Cemetery see the “official” website. Also, Travels With Ace has a nice writeup about their visit.

Hallaton - Slawston - Cranoe - Keythorpe Lakes Farm - Hallaton

Thursday 26 May . just under 2 hours and a half walking time - around 8 miles. Up to 600 feet. With Eddie and Barry. A 12 stile walk.





Opposite the village centre with the war memorial and butter cross, a path leads through an archway between the houses. You cross a footbridge and make your way up 'Hare Pie Bank', across the track used on Easter Monday by the Hare Pie and bottle-kickers. Continue along the path, passing the splendour of Hallaton Manor Rest Home on your right. Across two fields and a stream, then another field into Slawston.



Turn right and walk along the main street until another footpath is marked to the left.Across the corner of the first field, then along the edge, a (long) zig-zag round two edges of the next field, through a hedge on the left and over a plank bridge, straight on then right until you reach the road to Cranoe.

At Cranoe Church

Where's the Pink Panther, then?

A few hundred yards into the village, turn right up the hill to the church, and a few yards past it, there is a footpath sign on the right hand side of the road. Take the path up the hill and follow the wide ridge along until you reach a crossing of tracks, with signposts. Don't turn right - this takes you directly to Hallaton down a quiet road/track. Instead follow the Midshires Way, past Keythorpe Lodge Farm, then downhill to Keythorpe Lakes - a large dairy farm. When you see the farmhouse turn sharp left and follow the bridleway, and then the path. You climb gently at first, then more steeply to Hallaton Spinneys and Moor Hill Spinneys up to about 150 metres.

To you right is Issets' Lodge, a huge new house, with a mysterious array of poles. Are they lights, mini solar panels, or beacons to guide a private plane down?



From the top you walk gently descending the ridge, with wide views over rural Leicestershire, down towards Hallaton. Ignore any turn to the left, emerging opposite the Fox Inn and its pond. Just as we arrived a heron flew off. Walk through the village, past a pump, and ? village lock up, back to the central green and Buttercross.

You either get it or you don't...

As Decemberrolls by I have the urge to get back out on some ice, snow and into the alpine. But it hasn't always been that way. At one point I stopped alpine and ice climbing because so many friends had died doing it. I just didn't have the metal strength to continue in the game.



Too many good friends and relationships were gone like dry wood in a bonfire.

I turned to warm stone to keep my passion alive. And while I have almost none of those physical skills remaining today the mental strength gathered on hard rock now allows me to go back into the alpine or back to work in my shop on those off days when I would really prefer not to.



Tsunami, 5.11b R/X



But it has taken years and a lot of additional support to be where I am at now and be comfortable in my own skin.



Some of us go climbing to find out just how strong we are. And it generally has little to do with how many pull ups you can manage.



Rock climbing is a previous gift that now allows me to climb again in the alpine. But any form of climbing, work or sportcan be your path. Any activity where you choose to test yourself, checkers or may be just getting out of bed can be more than enough.



Hard rock climbing really has little to do physically with winter alpine climbing. But you either get the idea and stylebehind climbs like the B-Y and Tsunami or you don't.



The video is great. Enjoy!









The Bachar Yerian 5.11c R/X from cole gibson on Vimeo.

Grand Canyon :: Kaibab Trail to Cedar Ridge

Our first foray into the Grand Canyon on Monday (April 12th) was a relatively short one; only a mile and a half in length, but it is also had a descent of 1140 feet, starting at an elevation of 7200 feet on the rim and ending at 6060 feet at Cedar Ridge. And, of course, what goes down must also come up! It took us an hour and 15 minutes to make the descent. The trail was in fairly good condition, no snow or ice. But what amazed me was that it took us just 15 minutes longer to make the climb back to the top! And we stopped along the way. A lot. At almost every turn of the switchbacks!

The description of the trail was given as “Maintained dirt trail. Steep. Well defined. Little shade on trail, mostly from canyon walls and dependent on time of day.” That really doesn't do it justice. It's rocky in many places. It had some pretty high steps. It's very steep. It's strenuous. It's challenging. It was fun! Really.

The view from the rim as we were starting out. It was a beautiful day. Sunshine. Blue skies. Cool temperatures just right for hiking with great company.

Switchbacks as you come down from the rim.

More switchbacks going down... did I mention that the trail was steep?

Sue and Fred, taking a break. (Photos of them, and those taken by them, used with their permission.)

Behind me is the section of trail we had just come down, one of the easier sections, I might add. Of course, we were still going down. It didn't look so easy going back up! (Photo by Sue.)

Back on the trail. Still going down.

Another steep section showing the rugged condition of the trail. It was difficult to maintain your stride in these sections with the logs across the path.

Our destination is in sight! The Kaibab trail continues on past the ridge then winds it's way down the next peak, eventually reaching the river some six miles or more away.

On the way down we had encountered several spots of gusty wind along the trail where we just had to stand still to maintain our footing until the wind passed by. When we reached the ridge plateau, there was a light breeze blowing. It was warm in the sunshine. It was very nice. We walked on out to the end of the ridge, that “pile” of rocks in the center of the photo, and ate our lunch. The wind picked up a little so we moved to a more protected spot and waited for the wind to die down.

During a little lull, we decided to climb back to the flat area. At one particularly narrow spot, the wind came up fast and furious. Sue and I were caught in a gust of wind, I grabbed her arm, not only to steady myself but to steady her as well. We weren't sure that we could keep our footing. It was a bit of a scary moment, it passed, but not soon enough for either of us! If we had fallen off, the drop to the next level was only a few feet, but still, we were more than a little concerned. All of a sudden the wind stopped and we literally ran off of that ledge. With the helping hand of another hiker we scrambled up the last few rocks onto level ground and quickly made our way to a somewhat safer area to settle our nerves.

Looking back at the section of trail that leads down to Cedar Ridge.

The final switchbacks going up to the rim. We're almost there! Thus far on my journey, this was the most challenging and difficult three-mile trek I've made. Was it worth it? Oh, yeah! Would I have made the trek if I had been alone? I'm not sure. I'm just glad that Sue and Fred were there to coax me along the trail. Thank you!