Skull Rock

Many, many years ago, I'm guessing about 15 years ago, while roaming around in the Jemez Mountains we found a rock that with a lot of imagination can look sort of like a skull. Then for many years we had sort of lost where that rock was at. We knew the general area - the mountains - but never got to where the rock was. Last fall we decided to find and came close but it got to late before we found it and we had to come home to feed the critters. Plus I wanted to see it in daylight so I could photograph it. Last week we went to the mountains and actually found Skull Rock again. Maybe to you it doesn't look like a skull. But to me it does, but then I have a heck of an imagination for things like that. These are photos of Skull Rock from a little distance and then closer and closer. Of course the real close up has a lot of shadows on it cause it sort of shades its on face all day. In the following posts are some of the other rocks that were near by.

Feels Like a Pacific Island Around Here

With all the beautiful sunny days and scorchin' temps we've been having lately, some visitors to Rainier might feel like they are actually visiting a Pacific Island rather than on a cold snowy volcano in the Pacific North Wet. It's actually kind of fitting since this month of May, is National Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month.



Even though our high camps are far away from warm Pacific Islands, rangers have sometimes been known to imagine themselves on a tropical beach of some sort. So bring your sunscreen, some tropical fruits, your favorite swim costume and head on up to our glacial island where you can almost see the Pacific Ocean on a clear day. We'll be waiting.



On another note the Northwest Avalanche Center has issued another special statement visitors to our mountain should read. If anyone sees anything weird going on with out snowpack we'd love to hear about it.

Cats

I was posting a photo and a little info on each of my 6 horses, 3 dogs, and -opppps - I didn't do the 3 cats. (I think I got sidetracked by the eclipse and the shipwrecks.) We do have 3 cats. Only 3 at this time. The number of cats has varried over the years. We went as high as 7 at one time, but that is way to many for one house. Now we are back to 3 which is a much more managable number to have. I think the first pet I ever had was a dog. A rough coat Collie named Sport. I know there are photos of me with him when I less than a year old. He had been my granddad's dog but when he died just before I was born my parents took him. He wasn't a young dog even then.
After that there were a string of cats. I don't remember them but there were a few photos. I don't know why, but I really love cats. I have done without cats, dogs, and horses, for years on end in my life (and managed to live over it) but I don't think I could ever do without a cat again. I love my horses and dogs dearly but cats are really special. I don't think I have been without a cat since I was about 14 years old. That was a long time and a total of 20 different cats. Some didn't make it very long for one reason or another. But most have lived a long life to go on to a well deserved place in Cat Heaven. Right now we have Jade, K.C., and Murphy. This photo is of K.C. . Eight years ago she came to the door as a tiny kitten, screamed and screamed that she needed to live with us and finally had her way. We don't know where she came from and couldn't find anyone to claim her, so she became one of the family. Her name is short for Kitty Cat. Named by my then teenage son. Now isn't that orginal. K.C is the kind of cat that regardless where she decides to lay down she can look totally and completely comfortable. With all the cats I have had, and cats are known for looking comfortable, K.C. takes it to extreames. I just wish I could do as well at relaxing as she does. K.C. is also, an excelent mouser, and gets along better with the dogs than the other two cats do. In fact she is not sociable with the other cats at all. Even after knowing Jade, (who is 10) all her life and Murphy ( who is 5) all of his, she still hisses, and spits at them if they come close to her. She diffently perfers the company of my husband and myself over other cats, but will run and hide if we have visitors.

Independent

Be it food, furniture, clothing or bicycles, there is nothing quite like getting things made by people we know and trust. I am lucky to live in a pocket of the US that has a long history of an independent bicycle industry, and luckier still to interact with some of its members. On the occasion of Independence Day, I would like to feature these people here and invite you to have a look at their work.






When I first met Mike Flanigan of ANT, he was introduced to me as "the godfather of the transportation cycling revolution." Long before Dutch bikes and retrofitted Porteurs began gracing the streets of trendy American cities, Mike was making sturdy roadsters and cargo bikes for his customers under the slogan "Not sport, transport." He made custom loop frames at a time when no other framebuilder saw it as worth their while to offer step-through frames for women. He educated the newgeneration of local frame buildersabout the value of transportation bicycles and continues to share his knowledge with them generously. Today Mike also offers framebuilding classes, which have become extremely popular. Every year he donates a cargo bike that is raffled off at the Redbones Bike Party and Benefit in Somerville.There are other builders now making transport bicycles and plenty of mainstream manufacturers as well. But there is still nothing quite like an original ANT bike.






Of course the new generation makes it look so easy. It's not for nothing that Geekhouse Bikes founder Marty Walsh is known as "party Marty" - combining work and fun is their MO. Or rather, they do not see a distinction. Making colourful bikes that range from track to touring to townie, the boys of Geekhouse work tirelessly on their unique frames and have inhouse powdercoating facilities to boot. Hip segmented forks? Bottle cage braze-ons shaped like lightning bolts? Sparkly powdercoat? They are the ones to see about that. Geekhouse also connect with the local community, collaborating with their peers and encouraging innovation. Most recently they've leased a large space to be developed and shared by local artisans, which is looking more and more exciting each time I visit.





Though still a relative newcomer to the framebuilders' scene, Bryan Hollingsworth of Royal H. Cycles can make pretty much anything, I am convinced of that now. A carbon fiber fabricator at Seven Cycles, his true passion is lugged steel and he has been building frames under his own name for the past three years. I was one of his first customers and watching Bryan work was what inspired my own interest in frame design. After successfully collaborating on a one-off randonneur project last year, this summer we are taking it up a notch and trying to develop a do-it-all mixte model.





Another Seven Cycles veteran, Mike Salvatore of the so-called Sketchy Cycles is the framebuilders' framebuilder and a man of mystery. There is no website. There is no order process. There is no price list. Working by candlelight in the company of his enormous pet rabbit, Mike builds frames mostly for friends and only when the mood strikes him. But the deceptively modest-looking bikes are known to have magical properties. Those who own a Sketchy - and it's quickly becoming a cult of sorts - only smile mysteriously when asked what makes these bikes so special. Will the rest of us ever know? We can only dream.






Speaking of dreams, I certainly felt as if I was in the midst of one when I stumbled unexpectedly upon Cantabrigian Mechanics - the shop of Ricky DeFrancisco - earlier this year. What do they make? That is a little difficult to describe, because the answer is "everything." In a sense they are ghost builders - making bicycle frames and parts of frames, and also objects that have nothing to do with bicycles at all, for manufacturers whose names might be quite familiar to you. Intrigued? It may be possible to satisfy our curiosity soon, as Cantabrigian Mechanics are now developing a house brand called Commonwealth Cycles.





The art of fillet brazing is on the rise in Boston and I am infatuated with the fledgling work of Nao Tomii of Tomii Cycles - a sculptor who, after years of learning the trade, has recently become a full time framebuilder. Nao's bicycles look effortless, liquid and floaty as he combines technical precision with an artist's eye. I will have more pictures of his work featured here soon, and this is surely a builder to watch closely.






Another new fillet brazer of note is Armando Quiros of Quiros Custom Frames. A favourite of the fixie-loving crowd, Armando has won awards for his track bike builds and admiration for his sharp urban commuters.






I met the legendary Christopher Igleheart at a local bicycle show a year ago and was lucky enough to test ride a bike of his. Making many kinds of bicycles, from mountain to randonneuring to city, Igleheart is about lightweight steel, long-distance comfort, and quirky touches. His experience in the industry is vast and his customers rave about his bicycles' ride quality. An old school local favourite.






Seven Cycles are the folks who turned me on to titanium and opened my mind to an aesthetic I was not predisposed to like. There are not many independent bicycle factories left in the US, and I feel incredibly lucky to live just 6 miles from one, to be able to visit it, to know most of the people who work there. Seven Cycles sponsor many local events, as well as several cycling teams. I am still waiting for them to come out with a belt-drive titanium loop frame...






There are other local builders whom I haven't had the honour to visit and photograph, but would like to mention: Peter Mooney, Firefly, Circle A, Chapman Cycles,Ted Wojcik, Independent Fabrications, Parlee,JP Weigle. If there are others I have omitted, please remind me and I will include them.






In stark contrast to the framebuilders, as far as accessory makers we admittedly have a shortage. But Emily O'Brien's famous Dill Pickle Bags - not to mention her personality and fixed gear randonneuring adventures - certainly help make up for this. I made Emily's acquaintance recently and have one of her remarkable bags on loan, which I am now reluctant to return.






Thank you for reading along. I admit that I am proud of ourlocal bicycle industry, and I try to do my best to feature its members here. What is it like in your area? Please feel free to mention your favourite frame builders, component manufacturers, and accessory makers, and post links so that readers might visit them. Enjoy your 4th of July weekend!

A Weekend in Rumney

(Photo: the weekend crowd at the Bonsai Wall, Rumney, NH)

I expected not to like sport climbing at Rumney very much.

I'm a Gunks guy. I like trad climbing. I like multi-pitch routes. I like the unknown.

Sport climbing is different. It's about exertion. It's about efficiency, and power, and the moves. Now, I have nothing against efficiency and power and movement-- I work all the time at these things in the gym. These things are all a part of trad climbing too, of course, but to me trad climbing is about so much more.

I associate trad climbing with peace, nature, and adventure. Sport climbing? It's fine, but to me it's closer to the gym experience than the trad experience. It just isn't my preference. Don't get me wrong, I like climbing in the gym. Actually I like it quite a bit. But if I couldn't trad climb outside, if the gym climbing weren't done in the service of the outdoor trad climbing, I don't know that I'd bother with it. The gym/sport experience is fine on its own terms, but I don't think it'll ever be the point of my climbing. That's just me.

Because of my bias towards trad, the customs of sport climbing are foreign to me. I couldn't care less whether your ascents are redpoints or pinkpoints, for example. Honestly, does anyone actually care? And for the love of God, I don't want any of your stinking beta. Sport climbers seem to have an incurable predisposition towards spewing beta in all directions, and it drives me insane.

I actually coined a term a couple seasons ago for my anti-beta position, which I hope to popularize. I want all my climbs to be "VHS." Do you follow me? Here, I'll show you an example of the proper usage:

Raul, would you shut the fuck up? I'm doing this climb VHS. That means NO BETA!

Please, everyone, start using my terminology. Do your climbs the VHS way. No beta! Stop the spew, I'm begging you.

But I digress. We were discussing Rumney.

There's this great, inspiring web site put up by a couple named Eric and Lucie, about their years spent touring North America's best climbing areas full-time while living in an old bus. These two have been all over the place and they prefer long trad routes that follow natural lines. In the course of their travels they've climbed world-class routes in Red Rocks, Yosemite, all over Colorado and Wyoming, you name it. Well, they spent a few hours at Rumney on their way to the Gunks and this was their verdict:

"We stop on our way at Rumney, the premier sport climbing venue in the Northeast, located near the small college town of Plymouth, NH. Very popular and crowded crag. We climb a few routes there, but basically hate the place. Steep jug pulls on very uninspiring rock... Let's face it, we are not sport climbers."

I am no Eric or Lucie. I have not climbed all over the place, full-time, for years. But I think I share their preferences. And so I expected not to like Rumney very much.

To my surprise I liked climbing there.

First of all, overhanging jug hauls can be lots of fun. We spent a good part of our first day at the Bonsai wall. This wall has a looming overhang, and some of the climbs that ascend it have one big, positive jug after another; the only challenge is to hold on long enough to get through it. These enduro-fests are fun. They have their place.

Secondly, the routes aren't all like that. Up at the Jimmy Cliff, for instance, there's a 5.10a called Lonesome Dove that's a beautiful, delicate slab climb requiring careful footwork. And there's a very similar 5.8+ right next to it that's just as nice.

And while the cliffs are not huge by any standard, they are appealing most of the time. I can see why the rock at Rumney might seem uninspiring, especially if you don't go far from the parking area. We began our climbing at a convenient crag called the Parking Lot Wall and while it does have the advantage of proximity (and some crimpy face routes) it is not nearly as impressive a cliff as others like the Main Cliff (which actually has some multi-pitch routes on it), Waimea (a hardman crag full of 5.12s), and the Hinterlands. The Hinterlands cliff was a particular favorite of everyone in my group because it features an imposing knife-edge arete with a fun 5.10a climb on each side; on one side is a climb called Jolt, and on the other is Dolt. No, Rumney isn't a place that will take your breath away, but it does have some nice-looking rock, in a pleasant wooded setting.

I was climbing 5.10s at Rumney, so obviously the ratings must be soft, although I don't think they're soft for sport. On the first day I didn't lead all that much; I wanted to get a feel for the climbs first. By the time we left on Sunday I'd led a couple 5.10a's (along with a bunch of easier stuff) without a hitch and my best toprope performance was a clean 5.10c. I was happy with this.

But while I enjoyed the climbing, and had a fantastic time with the friends with which I came, there is definitely a dark side to Rumney.

The weekend summer crowd at Rumney is insane. It was worse this weekend than I have ever seen it in the Gunks. It was as if you took the Uberfall crowd on an October Saturday and multiplied it by ten. And you couldn't walk away down the cliff, like you can in the Gunks, to get away from the hordes. Rumney isn't big enough for that. The crowd is everywhere. You can't escape. The climbs are occupied no matter where you go. You're either waiting for a climb or someone else is waiting for you. The path at the base is an obstacle course of people, ropes, dogs, and diaper bags.

Worse than the crowding itself is the type of crowd that seems attracted to Rumney. People new to climbing like to come in large groups. I don't know where they come from. I'm talking about a dozen, maybe two dozen people in one group. You'll see a few people coming up the trail and then they keep coming, and coming, and coming, as if they are emerging from a clown car. And then they'll park themselves at a crag and hog the climbs for hours. One or two "senior" members of the group will have some idea what to do and will set up the climbs for the others, who are waiting like sheep to flail away at them, assisted of course by oceans of spewed beta advice... and on and on and on, as every climber in the group is invited in turn to try every climb simultaneously being held by the squatters.

This type of crowding creates an oppressive atmosphere. I remember when my wife and I visited Prague back in 2002. We liked the city very much but after a couple days we gave up on the central, preserved, pretty part of town. It was ruined for us by tourism, and it wasn't just that it was crowded. It was the tour groups. These groups would tramp blindly down the street in such numbers that you had to struggle to get by them. Sometimes it was a battle not to be swept up into them. And after a few days of physically fighting through these groups just to cross a pretty square or get to the door of a church, we were ready to give up. It wasn't worth it. And sometimes this weekend, Rumney remined me of Prague.

I'm sure I must sound elitist. I have nothing against new climbers. We've all been there. I'm really criticizing the leaders of these parties, who should split the goups up into smaller units, and not shamelessly hog the best climbs for half a day. The group I was climbing with was actually pretty big. It included seven climbers. But in contrast to these massive climbing parties we were seldom, if ever, all in one place at the same time. We'd stay in touch, mix and match, go up and down the crag, get together and drift apart. We weren't doing it to be nice. It just sort of happened without anyone planning it, but it worked out in such a way that we got to climb in a variety of places without holding anyone else up for hours and hours.

That's the way to do it, people.

A final observation about sport climbing, and this is not specific to Rumney. I found that it can lead to a scary complacency. Bolts provide an illusion of security, yet climbing is still a dangerous sport, even with bolts. Of course we all know this. But one must be ever vigilant about observing the basics in climbing, and something about the ease of sport climbing seems to wreak havoc with one's concentration. Things are assumed that should not be assumed. Plans for the lower-off are insufficiently discussed and then miscommunication can occur when the leader reaches the anchor. I saw such developments in my own group and in numerous others, and I am just as much to blame for it as anyone else. No one got injured this weekend but with all the obvious, oblivious newbies floating around a place like Rumney on a busy weekend, and all the stuff I saw going on, it's kind of remarkable no one did. Personally, next time, I'll try harder. I'll be discussing more in advance, watching more, speaking up more.

My verdict: I liked Rumney well enough. I'd gladly go back. But during the week. And only after fully exploring NH trad options like Cannon Cliff and Whitehorse/Cathedral Ledges. I can only compare Rumney to one other sport climbing area, Red Rocks, NV, and Red Rocks is so far superior to Rumney in every conceivable way it is difficult even to begin to discuss it. The climbs, the rock, the scenery, the crowds, plus the availability of world-class trad climbs... and when you think about it, Red Rocks is nearly as convenient as Rumney to NYC so long as you are willing to pay for the flight. But the weather is brutal there in summer so I'd recommend Rumney over Red Rocks in August. In the Spring and the Fall, however, I'd seriously consider flying to Vegas over driving to Rumney, even for just a couple days. If I lived in New England, on the other hand, I'm sure I'd go to Rumney all the time.

The Russell Moccasin Co. and minimalist running shoes?

The Munson Army Last has been around since 1912. -Named after its inventor, Edward Luman Munson, A.M., -M.D., Lt. Col. Medial Corps, United States Army, the Munson Army Last was adopted by the U.S. Army to enhance the fit and comfort of military boots issued to soldiers. The Munson Army Last was and is one of the few lasts that ever approached normal feet shape and contour.





It was the view and understanding of Dr. Munson, way back then, that “Weakening of the foot muscles is one of the penalties of civilization, as walking is less and less a factor in locomotion....the introduction of railroads, street cars and automobiles, has materially interfered with foot development.”



http://www.russellmoccasin.com/munson_last.html











"I did an hour hike up and down a back-country ski trail the other day in a custom pair of minimalist shoes. Packed snow, nine degrees Fahrenheit, and my feet were toasty the whole way. They have no heel lift, no cushioning, an anatomically correct design, and are the only shoes I've found other than FiveFingers where I can actually splay my toes; they have excellent traction. No need for snow shoes, or Yaktrax.





A new start-up minimalist shoe company? Nope, this company has been making minimalist footwear for over 100 years. It's the Russell Moccasin Co. of Berlin, Wisconsin, and the shoe in question was produced for me as a prototype after a conversation with the 80-year old owner.



Like many of us, after starting to wear Vibrams on a regular basis, I realized that traditional shoes were no longer going to cut it. I'd been able to find decent, but not great, alternatives for office wear, but the one problem remaining was cold weather. How to get a boot that would be suitable for hiking in the winter in snow and on ice? After a good deal of research, I found that the Russell Moccasin Co. makes custom boots, and some of them sounded close to what I was looking for."



More here:



http://www.russellmoccasin.com/product_reviews/minimalist_footwear.html



I suspect a few are now beginning to think I have lost my mind :)



I and my family have a long history with the Russel Moccasin Co. So if you have ever wondered where my shoe fetish started, it was here while in the 2nd grade.



I could go on but I'll leave that for the Q&A session in the comments that are sure to follow. If you are a minimalist runner I suspect you'll like what Russel has been doing with shoes and boots for years. For the rest of your it might take a bit of wrangling to wrap your head around the need let alone the actual shoes/boots Russel offersand their cost.



There isn't much footwear that gives Dane "happy feet". A custom pair of Russels is one of my definitions of the term. But until just the last few days I had never thought about actually just running in them. I have used them for everything else and in conditions that would never makes sense if you didn't know more about the construction of Russel's entire line of footwear.



But "just running" in them makes a lot of sense if you are into a minimalist running shoe. Which Ihave been, long before the Nike Free or Vibram 5 Finger.







If you ever wondered what tight rock shoes or rigid soled mountaineering boots were doing to your feet this is a good read. Dr. Edward Luman Munson's observations from 100 years ago:http://www.archive.org/details/soldiersfootmili00munsrich

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, ...