Saturday, January 31, 2009
Soda Damn
This little weird natural damn is called Soda Damn and is just above the town of Jemez Springs, NM. Don't know who the people in the photos are but I thank them for being good photo models.
There's Gold in them thar Hills - but none in this creek!
The day is looking iffy weather wise but we just bought a bike rack for the spare tire on the Tracker so we load up the bikes and head into the Park in hopes of getting in a bike rideThe sun is shining when we get there so we bike the Creekside Trail to the Grace Coolidge Creek Fishing Area![]()
![]()
![]()
Turns out to be a great place for a picnic. Dark clouds are looming inthe distance and we get a small sprinkle so we finish up and head back to thePeter Norbeck Visitor's Center![]()
We arrive just in time for the Gold Panning Demonstration. There is thunder in the distance butthe group heads down to the Creek - after all we could find our fortune! Actually not- anything found isthe property of Custer State Park.I decide to give it a shot anyway.
The rain comes just as I discover the gold must still be up in them thar hills and not this creek bed, but at least now I have my technique down!Might as well drive the wild life loop and see who's out there. Pronghorn - with a set of triplets!![]()
Or just looking picture perfect![]()
Doesn't look good ahead (weather wise!)![]()
A turkey with 2 babies - can you find them?![]()
and Surprise Surprise - Buffalo![]()
![]()
Another nice day off I guess since we didn't find our fortune in Gold today it's back to work tomorrow!
Till Later,Meanwhile, we keep on Trek'n
Melissa and Gary
Turns out to be a great place for a picnic. Dark clouds are looming inthe distance and we get a small sprinkle so we finish up and head back to thePeter Norbeck Visitor's Center
We arrive just in time for the Gold Panning Demonstration. There is thunder in the distance butthe group heads down to the Creek - after all we could find our fortune! Actually not- anything found isthe property of Custer State Park.I decide to give it a shot anyway.
The rain comes just as I discover the gold must still be up in them thar hills and not this creek bed, but at least now I have my technique down!Might as well drive the wild life loop and see who's out there. Pronghorn - with a set of triplets!
Doesn't look good ahead (weather wise!)
A turkey with 2 babies - can you find them?
and Surprise Surprise - Buffalo
Till Later,Meanwhile, we keep on Trek'n
Melissa and Gary
The Road Home
All to soon my visit to Oregon and Washington has come to an end. My plane ticket says that it is the day to fly back to New Mexico, so I guess I will have to go. If I will let myself admit it I am getting a bit homesick for Lee, the horses, dogs and cats so I left so far behind. And although I don't want to admit it to my sister, and tour guide, sometimes the sight of so much green can be scary. I noticed when I walked out this morning to sit on her back porch and see if there were any deer watching that the ring of trees that surrounded her home looked as if they were invading my - well shall we call it 'my space'. I love trees, but here they make it so that you can't 'see'. At my home on the desert you can 'see' for miles on end. And I miss that.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Soaperrific
I run a small handmade soap business. Once a year, Alabama soapmakers convene for education, shopping, gabbing, and eating too much. This is known as the "big meeting". There are regional lunch meetings throughout the year, as well as a large social gathering in January. It's a friendly bunch. We started out many years ago as a group of strangers on the internet, and have now become so much more than just colleagues.
We are fragrance junkies.
There's always lots of stuff to spend money on.
We teach each other how to make things.
Vendors provide samples, catalogs, and door prizes.
The unofficial uniform includes overalls, pearls, and a tiara...
Not your run of the mill overalls.
The pearls and tiara are optional for men. We have had a few male members in the past, but somehow we've managed to run them all off.
We are fragrance junkies.
There's always lots of stuff to spend money on.
We teach each other how to make things.
Vendors provide samples, catalogs, and door prizes.
The unofficial uniform includes overalls, pearls, and a tiara...
Not your run of the mill overalls.
The pearls and tiara are optional for men. We have had a few male members in the past, but somehow we've managed to run them all off.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Muir Snowfield and Camp Muir
Muir Snowfield and Camp Muir on May 21 2006
There is great coverage all the way up. Most people are still using the winter trail up to Pan Point. Beyond that the trail is very well wanded all the way to muir. There has been a lot of traffic on it and there is a great boot pack all the way to Muir. Even though it is pretty soft if people stay in the boot track they only end up post-holing in a few places. The skiing on the snowfield is excellent right now. Yesterday we got a dusting of snow and had perfect corn underneath that above 8500'. Today all of that froze and the snow was rock hard down to about 8500', but below that it was a wonderful 3" of soft wet snow on top of a frozen base so it was fun fast skiing. The chute down onto the Nisqually was stellar and fairly easy to traverse back up to the main trails at the glacier vista overlook (we did not have to put our skins back on). There are also two really fun kickers just below glacier vista :)
All in all its in pretty darn good shape for skiing. I would say folks don't need crampons unless they plan to travel really early or really late in the day. Skis or a board will make it lots of fun and I don't think snowshoes are that helpful since the boot pack is so well traveled.
The Camp Muir Public Shelter was significantly refurbished in 2005. The new interior design increases the usable space markedly. The bunks are organized to accommodate more people, as is the storage and cooking space.
So far, the comments have been very positive; in particular, many expressed appreciation of the increased lighting.
If you plan to stay in the public shelter, please keep it clean! Always secure the door when leaving, as a small crack will fill the hut with snow during storms. Never leave anything (food, gas, and gear.) Also, overnight travelers should consider brining own shelter in case they’re unable to make it to Camp Muir. At this time, the public shelter and toilet are accessible.
Please do your part to keep the mountain clean. Petrified feces and toilet paper flags strewn along the climbing routes and crusted on rocks near bivi sites are unsightly and unsanitary. Remember that everyone on the mountain melts snow for drinking water. All parties are required to pack their solid human waste off the mountain when not using the toilets at Camp Muir and Camp Schurman. Blue bags are available with climbing permits. Blue bags may be deposited in the large black barrels at Camp Muir or at Paradise. The barrel at Paradise is located in the restroom tunnel next to the men’s room.
There is great coverage all the way up. Most people are still using the winter trail up to Pan Point. Beyond that the trail is very well wanded all the way to muir. There has been a lot of traffic on it and there is a great boot pack all the way to Muir. Even though it is pretty soft if people stay in the boot track they only end up post-holing in a few places. The skiing on the snowfield is excellent right now. Yesterday we got a dusting of snow and had perfect corn underneath that above 8500'. Today all of that froze and the snow was rock hard down to about 8500', but below that it was a wonderful 3" of soft wet snow on top of a frozen base so it was fun fast skiing. The chute down onto the Nisqually was stellar and fairly easy to traverse back up to the main trails at the glacier vista overlook (we did not have to put our skins back on). There are also two really fun kickers just below glacier vista :)
All in all its in pretty darn good shape for skiing. I would say folks don't need crampons unless they plan to travel really early or really late in the day. Skis or a board will make it lots of fun and I don't think snowshoes are that helpful since the boot pack is so well traveled.
The Camp Muir Public Shelter was significantly refurbished in 2005. The new interior design increases the usable space markedly. The bunks are organized to accommodate more people, as is the storage and cooking space.
So far, the comments have been very positive; in particular, many expressed appreciation of the increased lighting.If you plan to stay in the public shelter, please keep it clean! Always secure the door when leaving, as a small crack will fill the hut with snow during storms. Never leave anything (food, gas, and gear.) Also, overnight travelers should consider brining own shelter in case they’re unable to make it to Camp Muir. At this time, the public shelter and toilet are accessible.
Please do your part to keep the mountain clean. Petrified feces and toilet paper flags strewn along the climbing routes and crusted on rocks near bivi sites are unsightly and unsanitary. Remember that everyone on the mountain melts snow for drinking water. All parties are required to pack their solid human waste off the mountain when not using the toilets at Camp Muir and Camp Schurman. Blue bags are available with climbing permits. Blue bags may be deposited in the large black barrels at Camp Muir or at Paradise. The barrel at Paradise is located in the restroom tunnel next to the men’s room.
Passing Time on Mt. Maude
This is my favorite picture from last weekend's night shooting sessions. It takes a bit of planning and preparation to pull off a shot like this but when you take your time and set things up right, the results are worth it. After about 20 "test" shots to dial in the composition I was ready to start the long exposure. This was a 96 minute exposure that I started at exactly 10:00 PM on September 3rd. The lens aperture was set at f4, and the camera's ISO was set at 100. Careful placement of the North star makes (I believe) for a very compelling composition. Taken with a Canon 5D Mark II camera and Canon EF 17-40mm lens.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Battle at Little Bighorn
Sunday, August 28th - - 135 years ago, late in the afternoon of Sunday June 25th, a battle took place here that has been mired in controversy ever since. It was in this area that 210 men in five companies of the Seventh U.S. Cavalry were killed in action by Lakota (Sioux), Cheyenne, and Arapaho warriors.
“Custer's Last Stand” took place on this hillside where 42 of those 210 men, including George Armstrong Custer, lost their lives. There was supposed to be a three-prong attack but the other two columns of soldiers were delayed. In other skirmishes in the area that day and the next, an additional 58 soldiers and Indian Scouts were killed. It was called the Battle of Little Bighorn by the United States and Battle of the Greasy Grass by the Lakota (Sioux), Northern Cheyenne and Arapaho people.
Custer vastly underestimated the size of the Indian encampment in the valley below; it numbered in the thousands though not all were warriors, there were many women and children as well as older men. (Figures I've seen at various websites put the number anywhere between 6,000 and 12,000 Native Americans camped in the valley.) Thinking that his troops had been discovered, Custer felt that the element of surprise had been lost and that the Indians would quickly leave their camps. So he attacked, splitting his troops in an attempt to surround the encampment. Obviously, that didn't work!
In about a five mile stretch, along the ridges and in the gulleys, the spots where soldiers and some of the Indian Warriors were killed are identified with markers, although in most cases, not with specific names.
Many of the soldiers and the Indian Scouts were mutilated and scalped. However, Custer was not. Some say it was because he was dressed in buckskins rather than a uniform; he had been shot in the temple and in the left chest.
At the top of the hill where Custer made his “last stand” is the memorial to the soldiers and Indian Scouts who lost their lives during the two days of fighting. Their names are inscribed on the sides of the monument.
It is estimated that about 60 Indian Warriors were killed in the fighting. The spots where 14 of them were killed have been identified with reddish-brown markers. These two are for Cheyenne Warriors “Hahpehe'Onahe” aka Closed Hand and “A'Kavehe'Onahe” aka Limber Bones who “fell here on June 25, 1876 while defending the Cheyenne way of life”.
The Battlefield is dotted with interpretive signs that help in understanding what took place and when. This sign is across the road from the memorial to the fallen soldiers. The visitor center also has a 17-minute video and park Rangers give a 20-minute talk every half hour or so. The video and talks are quite interesting.
Across the road and a short distance from the memorial to the soldiers, is the Indian memorial, which was authorized in 1991 along with a law that changed the name from Custer Battlefield National Monument to Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument. A large circular area contains the above sculpture as well as a wall of displays embedded in black granite. It was quite impressive and very informative, presenting just a little bit of the battle from the perspective of the Native Americans.
A detail of the sculpture.
Some of the Indian Scouts in the employ of the U.S. Army and with the 7th Cavalry were members of the Crow nation. The Crow considered the Lakota, Cheyenne, and Arapaho people to be their enemies because, among other things, the Sioux tribes were encroaching on what had traditionally been Crow territory.
The panel above depicts the scene of the Battle of The Greasy Grass as drawn by White Bird of the Northern Cheyenne.
On August 10, 1983 a prairie fire swept over the battlefield, burning nearly 600 acres of dense, thick vegetation. For five weeks in May and June of 1984 the National Park Service conducted a systematic archeological survey of the battlefield. They recovered 1,159 artifacts including arrow heads, bullets, cartridges, buttons, coins, soldier skeletal remains, boots, military and horse equipment, and personal items of soldiers and warriors. Archeological evidence, used in conjunction with accounts of the battle participants and placement of soldier bodies help in reconstructing the battle. Additional archeological surveys were conducted in later years and will continue in the future.
A four mile drive along the ridges of the battlefield provides some idea of the extent of the battle and the challenges wrought by the terrain.
The markers for an Interpreter Guide “Neesirapat” aka Bloody Knife and two Indian Scouts “Hukos-ta-rikus” aka Sgt Bobtail Bull and “Naahukoos Ciripaslt” aka Little Brave who fell here “while defending the Arikara way of life”.
Much has been written about the Battle of Little Bighorn with various interpretations of the events leading up to the battle and of what actually occurred during the battle – just do a search for it and I'm sure you'll come up with quite a variety of websites! It seems that History is always open to new interpretations, so regardless of your own feelings and ideas of what happened here I'm also sure you will learn something new - I know I did!
“Custer's Last Stand” took place on this hillside where 42 of those 210 men, including George Armstrong Custer, lost their lives. There was supposed to be a three-prong attack but the other two columns of soldiers were delayed. In other skirmishes in the area that day and the next, an additional 58 soldiers and Indian Scouts were killed. It was called the Battle of Little Bighorn by the United States and Battle of the Greasy Grass by the Lakota (Sioux), Northern Cheyenne and Arapaho people.
Custer vastly underestimated the size of the Indian encampment in the valley below; it numbered in the thousands though not all were warriors, there were many women and children as well as older men. (Figures I've seen at various websites put the number anywhere between 6,000 and 12,000 Native Americans camped in the valley.) Thinking that his troops had been discovered, Custer felt that the element of surprise had been lost and that the Indians would quickly leave their camps. So he attacked, splitting his troops in an attempt to surround the encampment. Obviously, that didn't work!
In about a five mile stretch, along the ridges and in the gulleys, the spots where soldiers and some of the Indian Warriors were killed are identified with markers, although in most cases, not with specific names.
Many of the soldiers and the Indian Scouts were mutilated and scalped. However, Custer was not. Some say it was because he was dressed in buckskins rather than a uniform; he had been shot in the temple and in the left chest.
At the top of the hill where Custer made his “last stand” is the memorial to the soldiers and Indian Scouts who lost their lives during the two days of fighting. Their names are inscribed on the sides of the monument.
It is estimated that about 60 Indian Warriors were killed in the fighting. The spots where 14 of them were killed have been identified with reddish-brown markers. These two are for Cheyenne Warriors “Hahpehe'Onahe” aka Closed Hand and “A'Kavehe'Onahe” aka Limber Bones who “fell here on June 25, 1876 while defending the Cheyenne way of life”.
The Battlefield is dotted with interpretive signs that help in understanding what took place and when. This sign is across the road from the memorial to the fallen soldiers. The visitor center also has a 17-minute video and park Rangers give a 20-minute talk every half hour or so. The video and talks are quite interesting.
Across the road and a short distance from the memorial to the soldiers, is the Indian memorial, which was authorized in 1991 along with a law that changed the name from Custer Battlefield National Monument to Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument. A large circular area contains the above sculpture as well as a wall of displays embedded in black granite. It was quite impressive and very informative, presenting just a little bit of the battle from the perspective of the Native Americans.
A detail of the sculpture.
Some of the Indian Scouts in the employ of the U.S. Army and with the 7th Cavalry were members of the Crow nation. The Crow considered the Lakota, Cheyenne, and Arapaho people to be their enemies because, among other things, the Sioux tribes were encroaching on what had traditionally been Crow territory.
The panel above depicts the scene of the Battle of The Greasy Grass as drawn by White Bird of the Northern Cheyenne.
On August 10, 1983 a prairie fire swept over the battlefield, burning nearly 600 acres of dense, thick vegetation. For five weeks in May and June of 1984 the National Park Service conducted a systematic archeological survey of the battlefield. They recovered 1,159 artifacts including arrow heads, bullets, cartridges, buttons, coins, soldier skeletal remains, boots, military and horse equipment, and personal items of soldiers and warriors. Archeological evidence, used in conjunction with accounts of the battle participants and placement of soldier bodies help in reconstructing the battle. Additional archeological surveys were conducted in later years and will continue in the future.
A four mile drive along the ridges of the battlefield provides some idea of the extent of the battle and the challenges wrought by the terrain.
The markers for an Interpreter Guide “Neesirapat” aka Bloody Knife and two Indian Scouts “Hukos-ta-rikus” aka Sgt Bobtail Bull and “Naahukoos Ciripaslt” aka Little Brave who fell here “while defending the Arikara way of life”.
Much has been written about the Battle of Little Bighorn with various interpretations of the events leading up to the battle and of what actually occurred during the battle – just do a search for it and I'm sure you'll come up with quite a variety of websites! It seems that History is always open to new interpretations, so regardless of your own feelings and ideas of what happened here I'm also sure you will learn something new - I know I did!
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
Friday, January 16, 2009
Switzer Land :: Jacob and Catherine sell to Daniel Deemer
There were certain rather interesting reservations(at least I thought so)made in the sale of this land... On February 10, 1847 Jacob Switzer and Catharine, his wife, sold their property in Salem Township to their son-in-law Daniel Deemer for the sum of $... This was the land that was situated in the South ½ of the Northeast ¼ of Section 33 in Township 15 Range 3, which was bounded by the lands of John Bricker, Samuel Wall, Abraham Arter, Simon Arter and Samuel Entrikin and contained eighty acres. Jacob had purchased this land on March 26, 1838 for $2600 from John and Hanna Froth.
The land was sold, with provisions as set forth in the second paragraph of page 777:
The legal stuff continues on page 780. However, I somehow managed to miss scanning that page while at the Family History Library earlier this year! Hopefully there is nothing of major importance included on that page!
Columbiana County, Ohio Deeds Volume 38 page 777 (FHL Film 926944)
Columbiana County, Ohio Deeds Volume 38 page 778 (FHL Film 926944)
Columbiana County, Ohio Deeds Volume 38 page 779 (FHL Film 926944)
The land was sold, with provisions as set forth in the second paragraph of page 777:
“Reserving nevertheless to him the said Jacob Switzer and to the said Catharine & to the survivor of them during their natural lives and the life time of the survivor of them the house in which they now reside on said premises with the appurtenances – also the truck patch which lays North West of said house containing one quarter of an acre & the orchard which lays East of said house and contains one and a fourth acre – also one half of the garden – also all of the rights and privileges set forth in an article of event date herewith entered into between the said Deemer & said Switzer which said article and all the covenants therein contained on the part of the said Deemer, are hereby expressly charged upon said real estate which is hereby conveyed subject to the same...”And the legalese continues on page 778. In the portion just prior to the signatures is wording that I've never seen in a deed record before:
“And I the said Catharine wife of the said Jacob do hereby, in consideration of the money paid to my said husband, remise, release, and forever quit claim to the said Daniel Deemer and to his heirs and assigns, all my right and title of dower in and to the above described premises.”The Article of Agreement between Daniel Deemer and Jacob Switzer and Catharine Switzer was made and concluded on the 10th day of February A.D. 1847 (beginning at the bottom of page 778 and continuing on to page 779).
“That whereas the said Switzer & wife have this day conveyed to the said Deemer the South half of the North East quarter of section number thirty three in township number fifteen in Range number three, in said county for the consideration of two thousand dollars & other considerations – fifteen hundred dollars of which consideration is given to the said Deemer who is the son-in-law of said Switzer & wife – And whereas the said Switzer & wife have made in said deed certain reservations – therefore , the said Deemer covenants & agrees to pay the said Jacob Switzer (as the balance of the consideration of said $..) the sum of five hundred dollars as follows – one hundred dollars on the first day of April 1847 – one hundred dollars on the first day of April 1848 - $100 on the first day of April 1849, $100 on the first day of April 1850 – and $100 on the first day of April 1851 – in accordance with five promissory notes of even date herewith.
“And it is further agreed between the parties that the said Jacob Switzer & Catharine his wife, and the survivor of them, shall reserve for their own use & for the use of the survivor of them the house on said premises in which they now live – also the privileges of the yard around the same – also the truck patch North West of said house of about one quarter of an acre – also the orchard which lays East of the said house containing about an acre and a quarter, also one half of the garden – also pasture and hay from off said premises for one horse and two cows, and stable room for one horse and two cows, also pasture and stabling for two hogs – also the said Switzer & wife or the survivor of them to have one third of the chickens, which shall grow from said premises (the said Switzer & wife to feed said one third thereof.)
The said Switzer & wife also reserve as much fire-wood as they need for their own use (they to cut & haul the same) also the said Switzer & wife to have the manure from said farm for their truck patch & garden as much as they may want for their lives or of the survivor – all of which right and privileges the said Deemer covenants to furnish & guaranty to the said Switzer and wife during their natural lives and the life of the survivor of them. And for the security of the said Switzer & wife, all the above privileges rights and covenants of the said Deemer are hereby charged upon the said premises. In testimony whereof we have hereunto set our hand and seals this day & year above written.”The Deed was Signed by Daniel Deemer, Jacob Switzer and Catharine Switzer (with her mark).Attested by Edward Carroll and Beulah R. Wright Carroll
The legal stuff continues on page 780. However, I somehow managed to miss scanning that page while at the Family History Library earlier this year! Hopefully there is nothing of major importance included on that page!
Columbiana County, Ohio Deeds Volume 38 page 777 (FHL Film 926944)
Columbiana County, Ohio Deeds Volume 38 page 778 (FHL Film 926944)
Columbiana County, Ohio Deeds Volume 38 page 779 (FHL Film 926944)
Rolling
Traveler is the only one of our horses that insists in rolling in the manure pile. I don't know why.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
The Paradox of Long Rides
Since describing my overnight ride to Maine last week, I've received an unexpected amount of correspondence from readers who feel drawn to long bike rides, but aren't sure they can handle them physically. The only other time I've had such a volume of email, was after my 100 mile ride along the Danube last Autumn - a similar theme. There is considerable interest out there in long distance cycling among those who love bikes but are not necessarily athletic.
Here is an excerpt from an email from Barbara that sums up the sentiment nicely:
"...[I am] not a strong cyclist, but I just loved your description of riding to Maine in the moonlight. I want to do a ride like this so much, it makes me want to cry! Can the weaklings among us experience a similar journey, or am I a hopeless romantic?"
This resonated with me, because it pretty much expresses my own point of view. I love the idea of covering long distances by bicycle, of experiencing beauty and adventure along the way,of bonding with companions as our wheels hum and our headlights illuminate the road. In my imagination, I do not envision this as an athletic activity or an endurance event. Ideally, it would be just a very long bike ride.
And therein lies the paradox: Yes, it is possible to experience long distance cycling from this perspective. But in order to do so, we have to get to the point where we are strong enough, so that a 100+ mile ride feels like a fun adventure and not like a physical feat we've just barely managed to survive. And this, in turn, means working up to it and getting in shape for it.
How is this different from just riding? I suspect there is more than one answer. But the way I interpret it, the crucial difference is that the rides are more structured - with the goal of building up miles, speed, and time in the saddle. Prior to last summer, I never followed any kind of structure, hoping that my endurance and handling skills would just build up organically, inspired by the joy of riding alone. I am sorry to say that this did not happen. Only when I started taking part in club rides,met experienced riding partners,and adapted a more focused approach, did I undergo significant improvements. The structure and discipline changed my body, ultimately giving me more freedom. This may not be the path for everyone, but I am being honest about what it's been like for me.
While the readers who contacted me about long distance riding did so seeking some form of insight, it was in fact I who ended up gaining insight from them; insofar that they helped me recognise this contradiction. I am sometimes asked what my goal in roadcycling is. And I think that my goal, if any, is to get to the point where riding long distance is entirely about the journey and the scenery, not about overcoming physical limitations. But I am willing to work on overcoming those limitations in order to get to that point.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
On Bicycle Pricing and Its Discontents
At the moment there is an engaging dialogue going on about the cost of bicycles, which I believe many readers here will find informative: Last week Jan Heine of the Bicycle Quarterly published a post entitled Why Buy an Expensive Bicycle, in which he argues in favour of custom-built bicycles costing 5 times as much as mid-tier production bikes. In response, Kent Peterson of Kent's Bike Blog explained why he prefers inexpensive bicycles, presenting an almost diametrically opposite viewpoint. Together, I think these two posts and the reader comments that follow make for some truly thought-provoking reading, and I invite you to check them out.Having read both posts, I find that my own opinion on this matter does not fit into the dichotomy of the debate. But I will try to explain it in my own way, without framing it as an "expensive vs inexpensive" issue.
Put simply, for me it is about the bicycle and, more importantly, about the cyclist's experience - not about the price. Bicycles are made for riding, and in order to ride them (and be inspired to ride more) the cyclist's experience must be positive. Not everyone is mechanically inclined and able to fix even minor issues when things start to go wrong. Not everyone's body can withstand poor (or even mediocre) ride quality. Finally, not everyone is inspired by a bicycle that is so crudely made and generic-looking as to be utterly without character. Now, we can criticise people for their lack of mechanical skills, their sensitivity to discomfort and their preoccupation with aesthetics. Or we can accept these traits and turn our attention to the bicycle itself - defining a "good" bicycle as one that will inspire people to ride. And by "people" I mean people as they are, with all their flaws and biased preferences and love of pretty things and mechanical ineptitudes.
Based on the huge amount of feedback I receive from readers who are either would-be cyclists or fledgling cyclists, I believe there are three characteristics a bicycle must have in order to attract those who are not already committed to cycling: (1) it has to work properly without a lot of fussing, (2) it has to feel comfy, and (3) it has to look nice. And it makes sense that a person of average financial means who desires to ride a bicycle, will naturally strive for the least expensive option that satisfies all three of these criteria.
And therein lies the first glitch. Based, again, on the feedback I get from readers, it is quite challenging to find a bicycle nowadays that both satisfies all three of the criteria listed above, and costs what most first-time buyers consider to be a reasonable amount. When I quote the $500 figure as a first-time buyer's typical budget, I am by no means making fun of this figure or disparaging persons with such a budget. On the contrary, this was my budget as well when I first began shopping around for a transportation bike. Unfortunately, $500 or thereabouts is considered "low end" by the bicycle industry today. Sad as it is, if you walk into a bicycle store right now, $500 will afford you only the lowest quality bikes available. The salesperson may even tell you, holding back a laugh, that with such a budget shopping for a new bike will be difficult. It is what they told me in .
Now let's get back to this fictional person who, on the one hand, wants a nice bike, but on the other hand is discovering how tough it is to find a bicycle that satisfies their requirements on a modest budget. At this stage they have a choice between two main options: (a) compromise on one or more of their criteria, or (b) increase their budget. Many choose the former option, which, granted, seems very reasonable. However, I kid you not that I now receive perhaps half a dozen emails a week from persons who are unhappy with their bikes and are not enjoying cycling as a result of a budget-driven compromise. The biggest complaint is that of frequent failures. The cyclist is not experienced enough to deal with them, and moreover does not want to deal with them. They also do not have time to constantly take the bike to the shop. The second biggest complaint is that of severe discomfort and poor ride quality. With all these problems, the bicycle does not get ridden very often and the cyclist begins to lose faith in cycling all together.
So you see, it is not the price I have a problem with. It is this outcome.By no means do I believe expensive bicycles to be better simply by virtue of costing more; that would be absurd. When a $500 bicycle becomes available that I believe to be reasonably well made, comfortable and attractive enough to make new cyclists happy, I gladlyherald it here and post lots of sexy pictures. Unfortunately, I find few bicycles in this price range to be of good quality, and I refuse, absolutely refuse to promote manufacturers who churn out overpriced bike-shaped toys by giving them exposure here based on their "low" prices alone. If a person cannot afford a well-made new bike, I recommend buying used or vintage.
Now that I've finished that rant, the next question might be: So what ismy idea of a high-quality new bike and what would it cost? Unfortunately, I have no definitive answers for you. Unlike Jan Heine, I do not believe that a $5,000+ custom bicycle is necessarily the solution. Customers are not always experienced and informed enough to truly know what they want, and builders make mistakes all the time. Also, the custom process takes forever and by far not everyone is willing to wait a year or more for a bike. Moreover, I agree with Kent that beyond a certain price point the anxiety over potential theft and damage may diminish a bicycle's utility.
The truth is that what constitutes a quality bicycle and a good valueoften depends on the person. It depends on their needs. It depends on their standards. It depends on the kind of riding they do, on their body's sensitivity, on their terrain, even on their climate. It depends on their level of mechanical skill. It is impossible to profess "the answer" that will be applicable to everyone.
In conclusion, my view is that it's not about pricing; we are way too focused on pricing. If you are serious about cycling, determine the criteria you are looking for first: What kind of bicycle makes you want to ride? Because that is what ultimately it is all about. Then find a way to buy that kind of bicycle, without compromising on those criteria. For some this may be doable at $500, for others it could be $5000, and most of us will fall somewhere in between. It does not matter to me how much a bicycle costs, as long as the owner loves it and wants to ride it all the time.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Revisiting My First 5.9's: Bonnie's Roof, Ants' Line & Directissima
This post will eventually describe the climbing I did on Labor Day weekend with my old pal Parker.
But first I want to talk about what I did this summer.
You will recall that I spent a disappointing, rainy week in New Paltz at the end of June/beginning of July.
In the time since then I have been silent.
It has been a wonderful couple of months. I've had exciting travels and adventures.
Unfortunately these exciting travels and adventures did not include rock climbing.
Hence my silence. But I think you, my rock climbing audience, deserve a little taste of what my summer has been about.
I went to New Hampshire twice, and even reached the top of Cannon Cliff. I was in the area on daddy duty, shuttling my two kids to and from summer camp. Climbing was not on the agenda. So although we went to the top of Cannon, we did not scale the cliff via a classic route like Moby Grape (5.8). Instead we took the Aerial Tramway.
(Photo: View down Cannon Mountain from the Tramway on a somewhat foggy day.)
While we were in Franconia Notch State Park we also took in the sights of the Flume Gorge. This natural rock channel is nice, though not nearly as nice as the rock climbing that is available just up the road. The hike through the gorge is fun, I guess. I recommend it if you are in Franconia Notch and by some cruel turn of fate you are not allowed to go rock climbing.
(Photo: The Flume Gorge in Franconia Notch State Park, NH.)
After I dropped the kids at camp, my wife Robin and I found ourselves for the first time in many years with two weekends completely free of the children, during which we could do whatever we wanted. This was my big opportunity. I could have gone climbing. But it didn't feel right. It seemed more appropriate for us to do things Robin and I would both want to do, as a couple.
(Photo: Montauk Point.)
So we went to the beach on the first weekend, and went hiking in the Adirondacks on the second.
(Photo: Avalanche Pass.)
On our first day in the Adirondacks we did a long day hike from Adirondack Loj past Marcy Dam and on to Avalanche Pass. The hike then continued up from Avalanche Pass to reach the summits of Mt. Iroquois and Mt. Algonquin (the second-highest mountain in New York) before returning to the Adirondack Loj via the trail past Wright Peak. Our route covered more than fourteen miles of wilderness. Much of it was quite rugged and wet. The trail from Avalanche Pass up to the saddle between Iroquois and Algonquin was especially steep and slippery. For much of its length, this segment of the trail required rock-hopping up a running stream. We enjoyed the challenge, and the views got better and better as we progressed, with numerous waterfalls along the way and Mt. Marcy gradually appearing behind the summit of Mt. Colden.
(Photo: Mt. Marcy just starting to peek out from behind Mt. Colden.)
While we were hiking Robin and I passed by quite a few rock climbs. In Avalanche Pass there is a lot of climbing, notably a 5.9 on Mt. Colden called California Flake. When we went through the pass this climb was soaking wet-- it has been a rainy year-- but still I wished I could hop on it. As we continued through the pass we got a great view of the Trap Dike, a long scramble up a huge gully on Mt. Colden. This is also a popular ice route in the winter. The Trap Dike is much bigger than I'd previously realized. It is truly impressive. Even though it is an easy climb, barely fifth-class, I'd love to come back to do it.
From the summit of Mt. Iroquois we had a good partial view of Wallface, the largest cliff in New York. For years I've been itching to do the classic Wallface route Diagonal (5.8), but I've never found the time to do it. It can't be tackled from NYC in a single day. At a bare minimum you'd have to set aside a weekend to get up to the region, hike in, and do the climb. Staring at Wallface from above, seeing the cliff in real life for the first time, I was awestruck. It appeared not just huge, but ominous and spooky. I got chills just looking at it.
(Photo: Wallface Mountain, seen from the summit of Mt. Iroquois.)
On our second day in the Adirondacks, Robin and I did an easier hike up the trail past the peaks known as the Three Brothers to the summit of Big Slide Mountain. (This was about eight miles round trip.) Along the way we got a glimpse of the rock climbing routes on the summit cone of Big Slide Mountain. There are just a few routes (and keep in mind I have not tried them!) but this location features incredible views of the entire Great Range. I would consider returning here for the climbing, as limited as it is, because the setting is especially scenic. As Robin and I discovered, this is a great hike even if you don't partake of the rock climbing at the end. The trail was quite muddy during our visit, which was not a problem except that Robin wasn't wearing her hiking boots. After the long hike the day before, her ankles were sore and it was too painful for her to wear her boots on our second day. So she negotiated the mud in her Converse sneakers. It worked out fine, but I wouldn't recommend Converse All-Stars for hiking, or for much of anything, really. Robin's pair went straight into the trash as soon as we finished the hike.
(Photo: View of the Great Range from the part of Big Slide where the rock climbing begins.)
When our children returned to our custody in mid-August we took off on our biggest adventure of the summer: we flew to London and then sailed off on a ten-day cruise to the fjords of Norway.
This was a family trip with Robin's parents, sisters and nephews. A cruise was not our preference; it was imposed on us. We've never been attracted to the cruise lifestyle and we both expected to feel stifled by the whole environment. I didn't like the idea of being constrained to follow the cruise's schedule, and any cruise, by its very nature, makes it impractical for me to incorporate my two sports-- climbing and cycling-- into the vacation. So we went into the whole cruise thing with low expectations.
(Photo: Kayaking with my daughter at the head of the beautiful Geirangerfjorden, Norway.)
Despite ourselves, we loved the cruise. The ship was pretty swanky, the scenery incredible. Norway is the most beautiful place I've ever been. We sailed by gorgeous fjords, kayaked beneath huge waterfalls, hiked past mirror-like lakes to beautiful blue glaciers, and danced our hearts out every night in the ship's disco.
(Photo: Cruising the Innvikfjorden, Norway.)
(Photo: Aurlandsfjorden at sunrise.)
After the cruise was over we spent a few nights in London. We had wonderful weather and had fun seeing the Tower of London, the Tate Modern, and Buckingham Palace, among other sites.
(Photo: The Tower Bridge in London.)
All of these travels were wonderful, but I'm sad to say that even while I was off seeing the world and having a great time, my obsessed mind never strayed too far from all the climbing I was missing.
I couldn't wait to get back at it. We were due to return home just before Labor Day weekend. I prayed the weather would cooperate. I had a partner lined up: my old buddy Parker, the man who'd braved the rain to belay me when I finally got up the sac to lead MF(5.9). I hadn't climbed with him in nearly two years, but he sent me a message while I was abroad saying he was coming up to the Gunks from Virginia for Labor Day weekend. He asked if I could meet him on Saturday.
Could I?? Hell yes!
The forecast was iffy. It was supposed to be muggy and in the 80's. There was a 40 percent chance of thundershowers.
Ultimately we got pretty lucky. It didn't rain until after 5:00. And the crummy forecast kept the hordes at bay. We had our pick of climbs, even though it was a holiday weekend.
Without meaning to, I ended up revisiting several of the first 5.9's I ever climbed at the Gunks, back in .
I drove up to meet Parker in New Paltz with no big ambitions to fulfill. I hadn't been climbing outside in nearly two months and hadn't seen a climbing gym in weeks. After my cruise vacation I felt fat and out of shape. I had no idea how I'd do once we actually got down to climbing.
Still I didn't want to defeat myself by not even trying, so when we met at the parking lot I volunteered for the first lead and suggested a climb: Bonnie's Roof. I thought it would be a good choice because it is a pretty casual 5.9 with a very well-protected crux. I was pretty sure it would be no problem for me and that it would build confidence. And I thought that if by some miracle I was really feeling good I could run the first pitch right into the Bonnie's Direct finish (also rated 5.9), doing both pitches in one.
Also Bonnie's is one of my favorites and I hadn't been on it this year. Why not give it a go?
Well, it went fine, but it didn't feel all that casual. It was so humid out that I was quickly bathed in sweat. I chalked my hands repeatedly but they still felt slippery. I started placing pro very frequently-- Bonnie's Roof allows placements at will-- and soon I gave up the thought of running both pitches together.
Even though I scaled back my plans I wasn't too worried about the pitch, since the crux protects so well. I remembered my first time on the route, four years ago. It was one of the best days ever: I successfully led CCK (5.7+) onsight and then Bonnie's. Both of them were big deals to me at the time. On that day, while I was still on the ground getting set to start climbing Bonnie's, I remember that a passing stranger suggested to me that I bring the blue #3 Camalot for the crux. On that occasion I had committed, getting fully into the steep bit at the roof before realizing it was time for the blue cam. When I suddenly remembered the stranger's advice, I slammed the piece in and clipped it, then desperately pulled up on the great handholds while my right foot flailed about, trying to get established on the right side of the corner above the roof. Finally I was able to get the foot on the wall and stand up. What a great feeling that was... and of course it was all so unnecessary!
This time, in , I placed the blue cam from below. You can reach right up and slot it behind the point at the end of the roof, before you step up into the steepness. There is no need to desperately plug and go. And with a little footwork the moves are not an issue. It is still a great feeling to get over the roof, and then the rest of the pitch is very casual.
I built a belay at the end of pitch one, wishing I had brought a knife to cut all the junky slings off of the fixed station there. I don't know why this station exists. It is too high up for top-roping and no one raps from it. The slings are all old and faded and it is hard to tell what the newer bits are attached to. I have never used this station without backing it up. If I go up there any time soon I plan to chop it.
Parker made quick work of the Bonnie's Roof Direct finish. I wasn't sure how it would feel to me on this greasy day but I remembered it feeling surprisingly easy last year. This time I think I puzzled over the first move for longer than I did when I led it last year. Chalk it up to my being out of practice. When I finally made the move, slotting my hand in the vertical crack and moving my feet up until I could reach the jugs, it went well and the pitch was over within seconds. I wished I'd led it.
Once we got back to the ground, we saw the cliff was starting to get a little crowded. People were lining up for Ursula (5.5) and there was another party headed up Bonnie's. But I was shocked to see no one on Ants' Line (5.9). If this climb was available I had to do it. Ants' Line is one of those climbs that gets toproped to death, because it has a bolted anchor at the end of the pitch and there is a 5.7 way to reach the bolts (via Sleepwalk). Thus it is seldom open. I hadn't managed to get on it in three years.
Ants' Line was my very first 5.9 lead. It is a first 5.9 for many people because it follows a vertical crack up a corner which eats gear. There is no mysterious crux move but it builds in steepness as it progresses. It requires endurance and good corner technique.
I think I did a pretty good job on this one in . I placed a ton of gear and got tired, but I hung on to the finish. It was another one of those magical days in which it seemed like a whole world was opening up. I led my first 5.8's (Arrow and Airy Aria) earlier in the same day, and when those climbs went really well, I decided to go for it on Ants' Line. The corner looked so inviting. After Ants' Line went down, I felt like I'd become a totally different climber in a single day. Maybe I ascribed too much significance to this one 5.9 lead-- maybe this overconfidence led in some way to my broken ankle on Insuhlation (5.9) later that same year.
In I hoped it would be just another 5.9, well within my limits. I hoped to prove to myself I wasn't as rusty and out of shape as I felt.
I think I probably did a better job on Ants' Line in than I did this time. My hands were so greasy in the humid conditions, I started rushing because I just wanted it over with. Aware that I was getting tired, I didn't execute the moves with much finesse. Still I hung on and completed the pitch. It remains a great climb, and one I will hop on again-- if I ever see it open.
It was Parker's turn and he decided to lead Teeny Face (5.10a) in one pitch. This is one I'd like to lead some time myself. The crux is pretty short, just a couple of crimpy sequences that lead to jugs. I top roped it once with Maryana and really enjoyed it. Following Parker, I liked it very much again. He looked solid negotiating the steep moves up the orange face. The lead looked reasonably well protected to me, although you do make the crux moves above the (bomber) gear. On my turn, the moves seemed harder than I remembered. I got through it, but on one of the crimps I could easily have blown it.
I was starting to feel pretty worn out. Was it the heat? I had planned to lead Obstacle Delusion (5.9) next but after we finished Teeny Face I decided I didn't have to prove anything to anyone and that we might as well dial it back a bit.
I suggested we do Modern Times (5.8+). But when we walked over to it another climber was just starting up.
(Photo: You're in the wrong place, my friend! A climber snookered by the tree into going off-route on Modern Times (5.8+).)
Standing there at the base of Modern Times, Parker and I noticed that, miracle of miracles, the entire High Exposure buttress was empty. Parker mentioned that he'd never done Directissima (5.9). This seemed like a great option for us. I told him I would lead the short 5.8 first pitch, and then he could lead the second, crux pitch and run it together with the glorious 5.6 pitch to the GT Ledge.
This was yet another 5.9 climb that I first attempted in . In retrospect, I don't think I was really ready to lead it at that time. Back then I couldn't figure out the crux move. I ended up falling on the fixed pin at the crux, then hanging, and finally pulling on the draw attached to the pin to reach the next hold. I have since gone back and led it clean. The climb remains one of my favorites. The first two pitches are both odd and little frightening, with tenuous traverses. Then the payoff comes with the beautiful 5.6 climbing up the point of the arete, with great views on either side of you due to your position on a buttress sticking out from the face of the long cliff.
Pitch one of Directissima is a little bit intimidating right off the ground. But I'd led it twice before so with Parker I had little hesitation as I stepped right up into the layback position on the smeary, angled ramp. Once you step up the climbing is easy, with good pro, until you reach the crux move, traversing past the point of the buttress, reaching around a bulge to a big jug. It is a balancy maneuver with poor footholds. There is good pro to your left but the ground feels awfully close. Once you brace yourself and make the reach over, you scamper up and right to a belay ledge next to an obvious, chalked-up finger rail that heads left.
(Photo: Parker at the crux of Directissima (5.9).)
Parker was taking the crux pitch so now I could just sit back and watch. The traditional second pitch of Directissima is only 25 feet long. It traverses straight left for fifteen feet on the narrow finger rail across a steep face, and then a reachy crux move past the pin takes you to a little ledge. The first challenge is getting yourself to commit to the finger rail. It is kind of scary. But once you're in it the finger locks are very good and you can (and should!) get a couple of placements (yellow Alien/Metolius) along the way.
Parker hesitated at first, right at the start of the pitch, but once he moved out onto the face he made it look easy. He is over six feet tall so the crux reach required no special technique from him. He breezed right out to the pin and then moved up to the ledge in no time. Then at my urging he continued, doing the nice 5.6 pitch to the GT Ledge as well. When I followed it went well. I found the traverse to be more comfortable than I remembered and I dispatched the crux move with surprising ease-- I don't want to wreck it for you so I won't say exactly how. But it isn't actually all that reachy if you do it right. I've actually solved it in two different ways.
Once I joined Parker at the GT Ledge it seemed almost churlish not to finish with the crux pitch of High Exposure (5.6+). The climb was just sitting there open, with no one on it and no one waiting. How often does that happen? It had been a few years since I was last on the climb-- if I'm not mistaken I think my last time was when I followed Liz up the pitch in -- and while there may have been a time when I never wanted to do it again, the climb made for a great last pitch of my day with Parker. It was just interesting enough for my rusty bones and brain. With no worries and the humidity finally seeming to lift a little, I started to fully relax and just enjoy myself for the first time all day.
(Photo: The classic top-out shot on High Exposure (5.6+).)
As we descended to the ground, debating whether we should do another climb or call it quits, we could hear the sound of thunder in the distance, heralding not just an incoming storm but with it a change of weather. It was time to declare summer over and go home.
It was sort of a lost summer for me, climbing-wise, with no climbing achievements to savor. Whether I can get in shape for any big accomplishments in the fall remains an open question. So far has been a year in which I've grown increasingly comfortable trying to climb 5.10's in the Gunks, but I still have precious few sends to my credit on such climbs. I do have climbing time mapped out for the autumn, including a couple of days in the 'Dacks in late September, and with some hard work and a little luck I hope I can translate these days into something that feels like progress.
But first I want to talk about what I did this summer.
You will recall that I spent a disappointing, rainy week in New Paltz at the end of June/beginning of July.
In the time since then I have been silent.
It has been a wonderful couple of months. I've had exciting travels and adventures.
Unfortunately these exciting travels and adventures did not include rock climbing.
Hence my silence. But I think you, my rock climbing audience, deserve a little taste of what my summer has been about.
I went to New Hampshire twice, and even reached the top of Cannon Cliff. I was in the area on daddy duty, shuttling my two kids to and from summer camp. Climbing was not on the agenda. So although we went to the top of Cannon, we did not scale the cliff via a classic route like Moby Grape (5.8). Instead we took the Aerial Tramway.
(Photo: View down Cannon Mountain from the Tramway on a somewhat foggy day.)
While we were in Franconia Notch State Park we also took in the sights of the Flume Gorge. This natural rock channel is nice, though not nearly as nice as the rock climbing that is available just up the road. The hike through the gorge is fun, I guess. I recommend it if you are in Franconia Notch and by some cruel turn of fate you are not allowed to go rock climbing.
(Photo: The Flume Gorge in Franconia Notch State Park, NH.)
After I dropped the kids at camp, my wife Robin and I found ourselves for the first time in many years with two weekends completely free of the children, during which we could do whatever we wanted. This was my big opportunity. I could have gone climbing. But it didn't feel right. It seemed more appropriate for us to do things Robin and I would both want to do, as a couple.
(Photo: Montauk Point.)
So we went to the beach on the first weekend, and went hiking in the Adirondacks on the second.
(Photo: Avalanche Pass.)
On our first day in the Adirondacks we did a long day hike from Adirondack Loj past Marcy Dam and on to Avalanche Pass. The hike then continued up from Avalanche Pass to reach the summits of Mt. Iroquois and Mt. Algonquin (the second-highest mountain in New York) before returning to the Adirondack Loj via the trail past Wright Peak. Our route covered more than fourteen miles of wilderness. Much of it was quite rugged and wet. The trail from Avalanche Pass up to the saddle between Iroquois and Algonquin was especially steep and slippery. For much of its length, this segment of the trail required rock-hopping up a running stream. We enjoyed the challenge, and the views got better and better as we progressed, with numerous waterfalls along the way and Mt. Marcy gradually appearing behind the summit of Mt. Colden.
(Photo: Mt. Marcy just starting to peek out from behind Mt. Colden.)
While we were hiking Robin and I passed by quite a few rock climbs. In Avalanche Pass there is a lot of climbing, notably a 5.9 on Mt. Colden called California Flake. When we went through the pass this climb was soaking wet-- it has been a rainy year-- but still I wished I could hop on it. As we continued through the pass we got a great view of the Trap Dike, a long scramble up a huge gully on Mt. Colden. This is also a popular ice route in the winter. The Trap Dike is much bigger than I'd previously realized. It is truly impressive. Even though it is an easy climb, barely fifth-class, I'd love to come back to do it.
From the summit of Mt. Iroquois we had a good partial view of Wallface, the largest cliff in New York. For years I've been itching to do the classic Wallface route Diagonal (5.8), but I've never found the time to do it. It can't be tackled from NYC in a single day. At a bare minimum you'd have to set aside a weekend to get up to the region, hike in, and do the climb. Staring at Wallface from above, seeing the cliff in real life for the first time, I was awestruck. It appeared not just huge, but ominous and spooky. I got chills just looking at it.
(Photo: Wallface Mountain, seen from the summit of Mt. Iroquois.)
On our second day in the Adirondacks, Robin and I did an easier hike up the trail past the peaks known as the Three Brothers to the summit of Big Slide Mountain. (This was about eight miles round trip.) Along the way we got a glimpse of the rock climbing routes on the summit cone of Big Slide Mountain. There are just a few routes (and keep in mind I have not tried them!) but this location features incredible views of the entire Great Range. I would consider returning here for the climbing, as limited as it is, because the setting is especially scenic. As Robin and I discovered, this is a great hike even if you don't partake of the rock climbing at the end. The trail was quite muddy during our visit, which was not a problem except that Robin wasn't wearing her hiking boots. After the long hike the day before, her ankles were sore and it was too painful for her to wear her boots on our second day. So she negotiated the mud in her Converse sneakers. It worked out fine, but I wouldn't recommend Converse All-Stars for hiking, or for much of anything, really. Robin's pair went straight into the trash as soon as we finished the hike.
(Photo: View of the Great Range from the part of Big Slide where the rock climbing begins.)
When our children returned to our custody in mid-August we took off on our biggest adventure of the summer: we flew to London and then sailed off on a ten-day cruise to the fjords of Norway.
This was a family trip with Robin's parents, sisters and nephews. A cruise was not our preference; it was imposed on us. We've never been attracted to the cruise lifestyle and we both expected to feel stifled by the whole environment. I didn't like the idea of being constrained to follow the cruise's schedule, and any cruise, by its very nature, makes it impractical for me to incorporate my two sports-- climbing and cycling-- into the vacation. So we went into the whole cruise thing with low expectations.
(Photo: Kayaking with my daughter at the head of the beautiful Geirangerfjorden, Norway.)
Despite ourselves, we loved the cruise. The ship was pretty swanky, the scenery incredible. Norway is the most beautiful place I've ever been. We sailed by gorgeous fjords, kayaked beneath huge waterfalls, hiked past mirror-like lakes to beautiful blue glaciers, and danced our hearts out every night in the ship's disco.
(Photo: Cruising the Innvikfjorden, Norway.)
(Photo: Aurlandsfjorden at sunrise.)
After the cruise was over we spent a few nights in London. We had wonderful weather and had fun seeing the Tower of London, the Tate Modern, and Buckingham Palace, among other sites.
(Photo: The Tower Bridge in London.)
All of these travels were wonderful, but I'm sad to say that even while I was off seeing the world and having a great time, my obsessed mind never strayed too far from all the climbing I was missing.
I couldn't wait to get back at it. We were due to return home just before Labor Day weekend. I prayed the weather would cooperate. I had a partner lined up: my old buddy Parker, the man who'd braved the rain to belay me when I finally got up the sac to lead MF(5.9). I hadn't climbed with him in nearly two years, but he sent me a message while I was abroad saying he was coming up to the Gunks from Virginia for Labor Day weekend. He asked if I could meet him on Saturday.
Could I?? Hell yes!
The forecast was iffy. It was supposed to be muggy and in the 80's. There was a 40 percent chance of thundershowers.
Ultimately we got pretty lucky. It didn't rain until after 5:00. And the crummy forecast kept the hordes at bay. We had our pick of climbs, even though it was a holiday weekend.
Without meaning to, I ended up revisiting several of the first 5.9's I ever climbed at the Gunks, back in .
I drove up to meet Parker in New Paltz with no big ambitions to fulfill. I hadn't been climbing outside in nearly two months and hadn't seen a climbing gym in weeks. After my cruise vacation I felt fat and out of shape. I had no idea how I'd do once we actually got down to climbing.
Still I didn't want to defeat myself by not even trying, so when we met at the parking lot I volunteered for the first lead and suggested a climb: Bonnie's Roof. I thought it would be a good choice because it is a pretty casual 5.9 with a very well-protected crux. I was pretty sure it would be no problem for me and that it would build confidence. And I thought that if by some miracle I was really feeling good I could run the first pitch right into the Bonnie's Direct finish (also rated 5.9), doing both pitches in one.
Also Bonnie's is one of my favorites and I hadn't been on it this year. Why not give it a go?
Well, it went fine, but it didn't feel all that casual. It was so humid out that I was quickly bathed in sweat. I chalked my hands repeatedly but they still felt slippery. I started placing pro very frequently-- Bonnie's Roof allows placements at will-- and soon I gave up the thought of running both pitches together.
Even though I scaled back my plans I wasn't too worried about the pitch, since the crux protects so well. I remembered my first time on the route, four years ago. It was one of the best days ever: I successfully led CCK (5.7+) onsight and then Bonnie's. Both of them were big deals to me at the time. On that day, while I was still on the ground getting set to start climbing Bonnie's, I remember that a passing stranger suggested to me that I bring the blue #3 Camalot for the crux. On that occasion I had committed, getting fully into the steep bit at the roof before realizing it was time for the blue cam. When I suddenly remembered the stranger's advice, I slammed the piece in and clipped it, then desperately pulled up on the great handholds while my right foot flailed about, trying to get established on the right side of the corner above the roof. Finally I was able to get the foot on the wall and stand up. What a great feeling that was... and of course it was all so unnecessary!
This time, in , I placed the blue cam from below. You can reach right up and slot it behind the point at the end of the roof, before you step up into the steepness. There is no need to desperately plug and go. And with a little footwork the moves are not an issue. It is still a great feeling to get over the roof, and then the rest of the pitch is very casual.
I built a belay at the end of pitch one, wishing I had brought a knife to cut all the junky slings off of the fixed station there. I don't know why this station exists. It is too high up for top-roping and no one raps from it. The slings are all old and faded and it is hard to tell what the newer bits are attached to. I have never used this station without backing it up. If I go up there any time soon I plan to chop it.
Parker made quick work of the Bonnie's Roof Direct finish. I wasn't sure how it would feel to me on this greasy day but I remembered it feeling surprisingly easy last year. This time I think I puzzled over the first move for longer than I did when I led it last year. Chalk it up to my being out of practice. When I finally made the move, slotting my hand in the vertical crack and moving my feet up until I could reach the jugs, it went well and the pitch was over within seconds. I wished I'd led it.
Once we got back to the ground, we saw the cliff was starting to get a little crowded. People were lining up for Ursula (5.5) and there was another party headed up Bonnie's. But I was shocked to see no one on Ants' Line (5.9). If this climb was available I had to do it. Ants' Line is one of those climbs that gets toproped to death, because it has a bolted anchor at the end of the pitch and there is a 5.7 way to reach the bolts (via Sleepwalk). Thus it is seldom open. I hadn't managed to get on it in three years.
Ants' Line was my very first 5.9 lead. It is a first 5.9 for many people because it follows a vertical crack up a corner which eats gear. There is no mysterious crux move but it builds in steepness as it progresses. It requires endurance and good corner technique.
I think I did a pretty good job on this one in . I placed a ton of gear and got tired, but I hung on to the finish. It was another one of those magical days in which it seemed like a whole world was opening up. I led my first 5.8's (Arrow and Airy Aria) earlier in the same day, and when those climbs went really well, I decided to go for it on Ants' Line. The corner looked so inviting. After Ants' Line went down, I felt like I'd become a totally different climber in a single day. Maybe I ascribed too much significance to this one 5.9 lead-- maybe this overconfidence led in some way to my broken ankle on Insuhlation (5.9) later that same year.
In I hoped it would be just another 5.9, well within my limits. I hoped to prove to myself I wasn't as rusty and out of shape as I felt.
I think I probably did a better job on Ants' Line in than I did this time. My hands were so greasy in the humid conditions, I started rushing because I just wanted it over with. Aware that I was getting tired, I didn't execute the moves with much finesse. Still I hung on and completed the pitch. It remains a great climb, and one I will hop on again-- if I ever see it open.
It was Parker's turn and he decided to lead Teeny Face (5.10a) in one pitch. This is one I'd like to lead some time myself. The crux is pretty short, just a couple of crimpy sequences that lead to jugs. I top roped it once with Maryana and really enjoyed it. Following Parker, I liked it very much again. He looked solid negotiating the steep moves up the orange face. The lead looked reasonably well protected to me, although you do make the crux moves above the (bomber) gear. On my turn, the moves seemed harder than I remembered. I got through it, but on one of the crimps I could easily have blown it.
I was starting to feel pretty worn out. Was it the heat? I had planned to lead Obstacle Delusion (5.9) next but after we finished Teeny Face I decided I didn't have to prove anything to anyone and that we might as well dial it back a bit.
I suggested we do Modern Times (5.8+). But when we walked over to it another climber was just starting up.
(Photo: You're in the wrong place, my friend! A climber snookered by the tree into going off-route on Modern Times (5.8+).)
Standing there at the base of Modern Times, Parker and I noticed that, miracle of miracles, the entire High Exposure buttress was empty. Parker mentioned that he'd never done Directissima (5.9). This seemed like a great option for us. I told him I would lead the short 5.8 first pitch, and then he could lead the second, crux pitch and run it together with the glorious 5.6 pitch to the GT Ledge.
This was yet another 5.9 climb that I first attempted in . In retrospect, I don't think I was really ready to lead it at that time. Back then I couldn't figure out the crux move. I ended up falling on the fixed pin at the crux, then hanging, and finally pulling on the draw attached to the pin to reach the next hold. I have since gone back and led it clean. The climb remains one of my favorites. The first two pitches are both odd and little frightening, with tenuous traverses. Then the payoff comes with the beautiful 5.6 climbing up the point of the arete, with great views on either side of you due to your position on a buttress sticking out from the face of the long cliff.
Pitch one of Directissima is a little bit intimidating right off the ground. But I'd led it twice before so with Parker I had little hesitation as I stepped right up into the layback position on the smeary, angled ramp. Once you step up the climbing is easy, with good pro, until you reach the crux move, traversing past the point of the buttress, reaching around a bulge to a big jug. It is a balancy maneuver with poor footholds. There is good pro to your left but the ground feels awfully close. Once you brace yourself and make the reach over, you scamper up and right to a belay ledge next to an obvious, chalked-up finger rail that heads left.
(Photo: Parker at the crux of Directissima (5.9).)
Parker was taking the crux pitch so now I could just sit back and watch. The traditional second pitch of Directissima is only 25 feet long. It traverses straight left for fifteen feet on the narrow finger rail across a steep face, and then a reachy crux move past the pin takes you to a little ledge. The first challenge is getting yourself to commit to the finger rail. It is kind of scary. But once you're in it the finger locks are very good and you can (and should!) get a couple of placements (yellow Alien/Metolius) along the way.
Parker hesitated at first, right at the start of the pitch, but once he moved out onto the face he made it look easy. He is over six feet tall so the crux reach required no special technique from him. He breezed right out to the pin and then moved up to the ledge in no time. Then at my urging he continued, doing the nice 5.6 pitch to the GT Ledge as well. When I followed it went well. I found the traverse to be more comfortable than I remembered and I dispatched the crux move with surprising ease-- I don't want to wreck it for you so I won't say exactly how. But it isn't actually all that reachy if you do it right. I've actually solved it in two different ways.
Once I joined Parker at the GT Ledge it seemed almost churlish not to finish with the crux pitch of High Exposure (5.6+). The climb was just sitting there open, with no one on it and no one waiting. How often does that happen? It had been a few years since I was last on the climb-- if I'm not mistaken I think my last time was when I followed Liz up the pitch in -- and while there may have been a time when I never wanted to do it again, the climb made for a great last pitch of my day with Parker. It was just interesting enough for my rusty bones and brain. With no worries and the humidity finally seeming to lift a little, I started to fully relax and just enjoy myself for the first time all day.
(Photo: The classic top-out shot on High Exposure (5.6+).)
As we descended to the ground, debating whether we should do another climb or call it quits, we could hear the sound of thunder in the distance, heralding not just an incoming storm but with it a change of weather. It was time to declare summer over and go home.
It was sort of a lost summer for me, climbing-wise, with no climbing achievements to savor. Whether I can get in shape for any big accomplishments in the fall remains an open question. So far has been a year in which I've grown increasingly comfortable trying to climb 5.10's in the Gunks, but I still have precious few sends to my credit on such climbs. I do have climbing time mapped out for the autumn, including a couple of days in the 'Dacks in late September, and with some hard work and a little luck I hope I can translate these days into something that feels like progress.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)