Sparkling Light for the Fourth

July 4th 1981. Digitized ... Copyright © 1981/.. by Rebeckah R. Wiseman Hope you have a safe and enjoyable holiday!

Tombstone Tuesday :: Phend Family at South Park

The Phend plot at South Park Cemetery, Whitley County, Indiana.

Henry and Susie Phend, my great grandparents, with their infant son Richard Lincoln.

Virgil Gilbert Phend, son of Henry and Susie.

Rolland Victor Phend, my grandfather, son of Henry and Susie.
My grandfather was 22 years old when his brother Richard was born. He once told me that he was holding little Richard at the time of his death.

Virgil was married to Heneretta Nelson on November 5, 1930. They were divorced six months later. Heneretta then married Virgil's brother, Don Phend, on September 5, 1931. Virgil graduated with the 1922 class of Columbia City High School. Like so many boys and young men, he worked for a while on the Aker onion and potato farm that was then located west of Columbia City. Later he attended an electrical engineering school at the University of Chicago. For a number of years he was associated with his father and brother, Gerald (Dufty) Phend in the building contracting business. Many of the downtown store fronts were renovated while he was an associate of the firm. In 1963 he began working as an architect with Roy McNett Designs, Inc. with whom he was employed at the time of his death.

All photographs taken May 4, .. by Becky Wiseman

Autumn Morning Glory

October, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

The 'Grandpa Ott' vines are still putting out a few flowers, but I've let them go to seed, so they don't have too much time left. On the other hand, the 'Heavenly Blues' are still growing and blooming strong.

A Day in the Picos de Europa: Espolon del Agero ("Agero Spur"), 6a (5.10a)

(Photo: Mount Agero, seen here in the afternoon after the morning fog cleared away.)



It has been several years since I've used a guide for clmbing.



My experiences with guides have always been very professional, educational and satisfying. But these experiences were all in the United States. And the guides spoke the same language I did.



Last week in Spain, in the Picos de Europa, I didn't know whether I could expect the same sort of experience.



I had never planned on climbing there. The Picos were not a part of my climbing dreams. Until recently I'd never heard of these mountains. They are largely unknown to American climbers.



Oddly enough, my wife Robin made it happen. She'd planned a family vacation in Northwest Spain for the whole family: the two of us plus the kids. I was passively, notionally involved but really I left the details to her. She picked the locations in Galicia where we'd spend the first week of our trip. As she looked into Asturias and learned about the Picos de Europa, she knew we'd love the place and decided we should spend several days in the region. She wanted us to go hiking in the area as a foursome, which we did. (It is a hiker's paradise.) But she also planned things so I could take one day apart from the family and go rock climbing on my own. I don't know many non-climbing spouses who would do something like that. That's just the kind of generous person she is!



In the months leading up to the trip, I looked into finding a climbing partner in the Picos. There weren't many resources (in English) for finding a climbing partner. I did some web searches but did not stumble on any guide services with English-language web sites. I posted queries on both rockclimbing.com and mountainproject forums but got no responses, either about potential partners or a guide.



Eventually I decided I would just find a way to hire someone. This would be simpler-- I wouldn't have to bring much, just my harness, shoes and helmet. It was unlikely I'd find a partner for just the one day any other way. I asked my old partner Greg about the guides I knew he'd used when he was in Chamonix. He put me in touch with a reputable guide, an American that he'd used over in Europe. Greg's guide wasn't planning on being anywhere near the Picos in August but he put me in touch with Kjeld Andreasen, who co-founded a service called ATG out there that offers guiding not just for climbing, but also caving, rafting, mountain biking, and other adventure sports.



Kjeld immediately contacted me by email and when I told him I was looking for long mountain trad routes in the 5.9 to 5.10 range he said, in perfect English, that he knew exactly what I was looking for and that I would love the Picos.



As the appointed day approached my biggest worry was the weather. We'd had a mix of rainy and sunny days in Galicia and temperatures that were a little cool for August. On the day before my planned climbing day, we'd arrived at our hotel in Arenas de Cabrales to find overcast skies and mountains shrouded in a damp fog. We'd gone ahead and done an afternoon hike with the kids despite the weather, and been immediately amazed at the beauty of these mountains. We were instantly in love with the Picos, even in the fog.



That night I spoke to Kjeld. He had hoped to take me out personally, but he had bad news: he had just broken his ankle in a motorcycle race.



But I was not to worry, he told me. He had set me up with one of ATG's guides, Fernando Zamora. He said Fernando spoke English well, and that they had talked about good routes for me. Fernando knew what I was looking for and had a few options in mind, one of which was easier, and the other more difficult, depending on how “eager” and “enthusiastic” I was. Then Kjeld chuckled. I wasn’t sure what to make of the chuckle.



I told him I was well known for my enthusiasm.



The next day dawned sunny and bright, although with fog still surrounding many peaks. It was much clearer than the day before, giving Robin and me our first real look at the full beauty of the Picos. We drove to the appointed meeting place in Potes and marveled at the giant formations so close to us on either side of the road. The forecast still called for potential rain in the afternoon, but I was hopeful I could get a good day in. (We learned over the course of our stay that the weather forecast is pretty meaningless in the Picos.)



We met up with Fernando at 9 a.m. in a parking lot in the middle of Potes, where we learned his English wasn’t really so hot. But as Robin told him (in her broken Spanish), his English was surely much better than my Spanish! I’m terrible with languages. After a week in Spain I could still barely order coffee or beer.



Fernando told us in a mixture of Spanish and English that he thought we’d have a good day, but that we should do routes not too far up in elevation, because of the potential for bad weather later in the afternoon. It seemed very reasonable to me. He told Robin to expect us back in the lot about 4 p.m., and then we were off.



On the way to the climb, Fernando and I communicated to the extent we could about my climbing history. I realized after a few questions that he was trying to figure out what I was capable of. He asked me how long I’d been climbing (5 years), and if I had any experience with long mountain routes (a little but not much). Eventually, and I don’t know how this happened, he got the idea that I knew what I was doing and that he could take a chance on me. He told me he’d been planning to take me up a very nice, long route that is pretty easy, but that he’d changed his mind and decided to take me up a similarly long route that is even nicer, but also harder. He said it was rated 6a, which I later learned is considered equivalent to the American/YDS grade of 5.10a. At the time, I didn’t know what 6a meant, but I told him I was game to try whatever route he wanted.



We drove about 8 kilometers north out of Potes, to where Route 621 crosses the Deva river and the first sign for the town of Lebena appears. Suddenly Fernando turned to me and said “This car, it is good.”



Before I had time to wonder why he was telling me this, he turned off onto an extremely steep, narrow road that headed upward towards a large mountain (which I later learned is called Agero) sitting directly above Lebena. The pavement soon ended, and the road turned to dirt. It seemed our first thrills were going to come on the drive up. After a week in Spain I’d become accustomed to driving on narrow, curvy roads, but this one was crazy, barely wider than his small pickup, twisting and turning past tiny farms and houses. I couldn’t imagine driving on this road myself, and it’s unlikely I could ever find my way again on it even if I were willing to. Fernando made several sudden turns at various unmarked tiny intersections, going ever upward towards the mountain. Suddenly a gravel parking area, big enough for two cars, appeared. He gingerly found a way to squeeze his truck into the second space.



We had arrived. Fernando told me that by braving this road we’d saved ourselves an hour of hiking.





(Photo: Agero upon our arrival at the base, shrouded in fog.)



He instructed me to put my harness on at the truck. I had brought a small Camelback pack with water and a little food but Fernando told me he preferred it if I left all that behind. He handed me an even smaller water pack (cyclist size) that he wished me to carry.



For his part, he carried a rack of only 6 cams (Camalots .4 through # 2, plus a yellow Alien) and a similar number of quick draws/shoulder-length slings. That’s it. Nothing else. No nuts, nada. A couple locking carabiners. I have long known guides to carry less gear than the rest of us, but still I was surprised at just how little Fernando was bringing.



The mountain was right across the road from the tiny parking area. I thought we had arrived at the base of our climb, and I tried to engage Fernando in a discussion about belay commands. But he told me this wasn’t necessary, since we weren’t using the ropes just yet. Then he started up the rock, and I realized there was a cable attached to the rock heading upwards and to the right. This approach pitch was apparently going to be my first via ferrata. Fernando attached himself to the cable with a sling; I went ahead and used my Metolius PAS, with Fernando’s approval. It was hardly necessary, but there were a few exposed spots. Periodically, as he would throughout the day, he would ask me if I was "good," to make sure I was comfortable with whatever we were doing.





(Photo: Ascending the via ferrata approach pitch.)



After the via ferrata pitch we headed left for another approach pitch, this one probably third class, without any cable or need for one. It follows a faint trail up a dirt path with occasional rocks to the main wall of the formation.



We were already high above the towns in the valley, and finally ready for the first real pitch of climbing, on what I later learned is a classic 9-pitch (if you don’t count the two approach pitches) route called Espolon del Agero ("Agero Spur").



Fernando flaked the ropes (9 mm doubles) and talked to me about belay commands. He didn’t use the terminology I would use, but I understood what he wanted. He told me when he reached the end of the climbing he would say "open the system," and that I should not climb until he said "you go up!" In an effort to help his future business with English speakers, I tried to explain the terms "on belay" and "off belay," but I don’t think much of what I said got through. It didn’t matter. I knew what he meant and the system was the one I was comfortable with.





(Photo: At the crux of pitch one.)



He climbed the first pitch, telling me as he left that it is the hardest one on the route. He didn’t seem concerned with whether I could belay him properly. I soon learned this was because he didn’t really need much of a belay. He placed hardly any gear. In fact he probably soloed at least the first 60 feet, passing what I later found to be the first crux of the pitch without a single piece. Eventually he put in a piece and clipped a fixed piton (this route has lots of old pitons) before telling me he had reached the hardest section. Then he was quickly through it and it was my turn.





(Photo: Climbing pitch one.)



I was nervous. This was my first time climbing on limestone, and I didn’t know how it would feel. I also didn’t know what kind of hard climbing to expect. If we were talking about overhangs or a few thin face moves, I’d be right at home. If, on the other hand, I was going to be expected to climb a jam-crack for 100 feet or do a hard slab-climbing pitch, I could end up humiliated.



I needn’t have worried. The climbing felt very familiar to me.



The rock was featured with cracks, mostly vertical in orientation, but horizontal often enough for my taste. Lots of pockets as well. And the way the rock was formed was very Gunks-like in one respect: incredibly positive edges tended to form along the cracks. A steep face might appear impossible, but then a crack would turn out to provide the most awesome jug, sidepull or undercling. And I loved the texture of the limestone. It was so grippy, I felt I could put my toe on the smallest dimple; even rounded corners could form positive handholds.



I got through a couple 5.8-ish cruxy moments in the first pitch, shaking my head that Fernando had climbed through this same territory without placing any gear. Then I confronted the real crux of the pitch, a steep corner/slot with a finger crack at the back. I stood there, thinking of it as a test. If I could do these moves, Fernando would know I could do the whole climb. If I couldn‘t do them, what would happen? Would he try to pull me through it? Would we bail off the route and do something easier? Either of those possibilities was very unappealing.



The crack gave good finger locks. I placed the fingers of my right hand in one direction, my left in the other. Pulling outward in opposite directions (a move known as a Gaston but which I always think of as "forcing open an elevator"), I committed to moving my feet up, then got a better hold with my left hand. It was still steep, but then the holds improved. The crux moves were strenuous but the sequence was blissfully short. I got through it just fine.



When I arrived at the belay Fernando seemed overjoyed.



“You!” he said. “You are a professional! You are a very good climber!”



I was very happy, too. I had passed the test. I was also impressed at Fernando’s trust in me, a total stranger. He knew this was the type of climb I wanted, but he didn’t know ahead of time if it would work out well, or instead turn into an epic with a whiny, incapable client. He took a chance on me. He could easily have taken me up something easier and I wouldn’t have complained. Instead he gave me precisely what I’d asked for, a long route in the mountains at the upper limit of what I could do.



After this first pitch I relaxed completely. We were going to have a very good day.





(Photo: Fernando atop pitch one, with the fog already clearing.)



The rest of the climb unfolded smoothly.



Pitch two was an easier pitch up unremarkable territory.



Pitch three started out easy, but ended in another steep corner similar in size and difficulty to the one on the first pitch.





(Photo: Fernando shooting a photo of me from the end of the crux corner on pitch three.)



As we got higher, the day got clearer and hotter, and the peak, which was shrouded in fog at the start of our day, emerged into the bright sunshine.





(Photo: Emerging from the steep crux corner on pitch three.)



Despite what Fernando told me about the difficulties of pitch one, I later learned that pitches four and five are generally considered the crux 6a pitches of the route.





(Photo: Heading up the wide stemming section on pitch four.)



Pitch four is short, ascending a technical stem corner using wide-split legs. I thought it was really fun, but I didn’t think it was actually terribly demanding. I hate to be that guy who says "in the Gunks this wouldn’t be considered so hard," but in this one instance I am tempted. And let’s face it, I am that guy. I wanted to bring Fernando to the Trapps and have him climb Ants’ Line (5.9) or maybe Simple Stuff (5.10a, which I’ve never done), and ask him how he thinks they compare.





(Photo: Standing at the belay for pitch four.)



Pitch five was the actual crux for me, and on this particular day it seems it was for Fernando too. He did the early hard bit, ascending an arching crack which provides great hands but no footholds at all. Then he moved to the right onto the steep face and got to what looked like a committing layback move off a side-pull. He started to move up, grimaced and stepped down a couple times. This was the first time I’d seen him hesitate all day.



Then he called down and apologized, saying he was having trouble because he’d broken his hand a couple weeks before.



I quickly decided he couldn’t possibly mean what he’d just said. There was no way he was climbing on a broken hand. Right? (I figured out later that he believes he strained a tendon.)





(Photo: In the steep, exposed face-climbing on pitch five.)



Eventually he did the move and finished the pitch. It was my turn.



The early moves up the arching crack were tense. There really are no footholds at all for this rising traverse, but the texture of the limestone is so good, I felt my feet were stuck to the wall with glue. And Fernando had really done right by me, placing pro at reasonable intervals for my benefit along the traverse, the one place in the route it actually mattered. After this I got to the steep face, which Fernando had described to me as "impresionante." I didn’t know what he meant when he said it but as I made the moves I realized he'd meant "exposed." I was above a drop of several hundred feet.





(Photo: Belaying pitch five. Above me you can see the curving edge that is followed up and right, with smearing feet.)



I didn’t have any trouble with the sidepull Fernando had struggled with, but the holds above weren’t as good as I hoped they’d be. I still needed to move right and up to finish the pitch, and I suddenly felt for the first time all day that I was about to peel off. I was barely hanging on.



But I had to freeze when Fernando said "stop!"



I looked up, startled, to find he was pointing his camera at me. "Facebook!" he said.



Urg, not right now, I thought. I finished the pitch and the hard stuff was over.





(Photo: Belaying pitch six or seven.)



After two more easy pitches, the 5th class climbing was over as far as Fernando was concerned. For two full rope lengths to the top, Fernando instructed me to feed him the rope but told me not to put it through my belay device while he was climbing. He put me on some kind of body belay when I climbed each of these pitches behind him. Although he had climbed them without the benefit of a belay, I thought there were a handful of fifth class moves in these two pitches. Some people might not feel comfortable without a better belay, not to mention an anchor. I don’t know if the AMGA would have approved of Fernando’s approach to these final pitches, but I felt secure enough.



At the top we enjoyed the splendid view on what had turned into a gorgeous, sunny day. Fernando told me we’d finished more quickly than he’d expected by an hour, and he confirmed my suspicion that he’d really rolled the dice on me at the beginning. He said he’d normally never take someone on this route on his first day with that person. I guess something in our conversation had made him understand that I wouldn’t be a disaster for him, and that I’d really enjoy this route. I’m really grateful to both Fernando and Kjeld for giving me such a fine day in the mountains.













(Photos: On top of Agero.)



As I enjoyed the walk-off down the beautiful gully next to Agero I wondered if I’ll ever get back to the Picos. Before we left the area I bought the Adrados guidebook (which is in Spanish), a huge tome which contains select highlights of the region. I purchased it as both a souvenir and a motivator. If I look over it enough maybe I’ll stay motivated and find a way to come back some day.



And by then maybe I’ll learn how to order a beer in Spanish with confidence.







(Photos: Heading down.)

CAMP Contest Ski Mountaineering Race Suit review

The CAMP "Contest" Ski Mountaineering Race Suit..not racing.


http://www.camp-usa.com/products/backcountry-ski/ski-mountaineering-suit-1594.asp



Yep, Lycraagain!



If nothing else, reading Cold Thistle will give you an idea thatthe envelope can be pushed on how modern high tech gear is supposed to be used and where you might find a place for some of it in your own clothing and hardware systems. Much of it can be used far outside the original design parameters.



Point in case is skimo racing gear like this CAMP suit or some of the reviews coming up in the future of long distance running gear.



Let me clear up any false impression that I might have unintentionally lefthere on CT in the past. I am not askimo racer or abike racer. I have done races in both venues. But if you are thinking I am competitive, I am not. I push hard and I race...but only against myself. I am how ever, an alpinist. Which I consider in my ownegotistical away, better than a mountaineer. Obviously I write a alpine climbing blog. So I think my opinions are worth sharing with the world ;) Your mileage may, very well, vary :)



Which brings us back to Lycra and eventually, if you have a little patience, to the CAMP skimo racing suit pictured above and other suits and clothinglike it.






Ever felt like you needed to climb in just your base layers on a hot day on the glacier?









Fact is, Lycra is better looking and given the right fabric blend and specific pattern, not a bad option on hard rock or a hot glacier.



Clearly Lycra is not the best option in clothing for ever situation in the mountains. In the recent past I have used Lycraas a base layer, a light insulation layer and a wind shell depending on what has been required and the current environment. Some times all three on the same trip.



As I mentioned in the previous post on Lycra this last week had been one of the most comfortable ski trips I have done. Temps ranged from around 25Fas the sun came upto as 80F by mid afternoon. in bright sun out of the wind. It was a wide range of temperatures. Only above 11Krequired the addition of a Patagonia Micro D pullover when I was stopped. Impressive IMO.

If you needed more in the wind a Camp Flash pull over would do morenicely enough.











Above is another versatile ski rig that is mostly Lycra with a Patagnia Piton Hoody and a Dynafit Movement pant.



Micro D is here:

http://coldthistle.blogspot.com//04/patagonia-micro-d-14-zip-synchilla.html



Flash is here:

http://coldthistle.blogspot.com//02/it-is-all-same.html



For base layers under this suit I used a tech short sleeved shirt and tech briefs. Not much between you and the environment. That I painfully realised the first time I took a spill on the pavementhard snow because I hadn't brought ski crampons.



Same basic set up Brian used on his c2c speed run up the Gib Chute but in a Crazy Idea suit.









It is worth paying attention to what is being worn and why.



Check out the usual suspects (the guys out doing it) on the web. More here on skimo specific clothing:



http://slc-samurai.blogspot.com//11/backcountry-ski-clothing-systems-what.html



http://www.getstrongergolonger.com/journal//7/17/grand-teton-speed-project-update-weight-matters.html



Look closely at what they are using on their own back country missions.



So why am I about to start raving about a once piece suit?



After all, one piece suits are notorious to ventilate and control your temperature. Too hot generally by design or too cold in only Lycra because the material doesn't offer enough insulation. And then how do you ventilate and breath in a once piece suit? Hard to head the call of nature in as well.



I've used well designed one piece suits often in my climbing career to good effect. All the way back to early Goretex versions in 1977. But never in such an aerobic situation.







But never ata really high level of physical out put. Enter Lycra one piece suits fitted correctly and with the additional insulation and breathable material required. It all starts to make sense.



Stuff a bunch of food/skins/gear into a kangaroo style pocket system (as they have above or below) and you profile will look funky and fat no matter how skinny you are...or aren't. Get over it.









The one and only time (a local ski mo race) I have ever had sweat running down my forehead and snow blowing hard enough to blind me while at the same time freezing on my outer layer all at the same time, I was in Lycra. And I was comfortable. As long as I didn';t have to stop!



The Flat Bellied Stallion?



The jokes never end and the questions don't stop. Takes so confidence to wear Lycra at any age in any style. It generally isn't flattering to the human form. Unless of course your human form is what the current society norm considers attractive.



Here are twoclassic views and the casual observation.








Big gut! This guy shouldn't be in Lycra.







Big gut! This guy shouldn't be climbing in Lycra either.


Truth is I have had a big gut in the past. No reason to deny it. But for the most part, chemo and radiation during Cancer treatment eliminated it. Damn near have abs in both these pictures an no spare tire there. I had friends comment on the pictures from this winter in the Dynafit Movement pant and the Patagonia Piton Hoody. And now in the Camp Speed suit. No gut hanging out there just extra gear and fabric no matter what the first impression was. Not Gym Jones fit either. If you spend your life worrying about what people think you'll likely miss most of a well lived life.



I take my time with pictures generally. Simply to help meget my point across. But I am at least as vain as the next guy (likely more) when it comes to how I look and am perceived by others.



Belowis a picture looking down across my absfrom above, while wearingthe CAMP Contest suit. The Cliff Bar Shot Block that is sticking out is just the tip of the iceberg. I have 10 Gu packets, 4 Shot Blocks, sun screen, lip balm and my freakin camerastored in the first layer of pockets inside my suit. It may look a little funky but if you are trying to stay up on the calories and keep moving at the same time you have to work on a system to do so. Some use gel flasks. Right now I am using, and really like, the simplicity of the pocket system the Contest suit offers. You will have a "spare tire" fully loaded, butwith the end result of easy access to your fuel and other essentials while moving.



The suitis easy to use no matter what you might think of the aesthetics of sucha garment.



I know what I look like in and out of Lycra. It isn't always a fashion show. But it is always about how fast and how far can you go if you are pushing yourself and your gear.














Looking down at my boots. I can stomach a "spare tire" for the easy access.







The "junk" in a a well designedskimo suit. My Gels and Shot Blocks are in the "outside pouch" Accessed through the zipper via either the top or bottom slider. There is another layer of pockets big enough to take the smaller race skins behind this "pouch". And finally a transceiver pocket behind all of them.Four pockets total inside the suit.




There is also a separate pee zipper below all the pouch pockets.




On the outside there is a small zippered breast pocket and two huge, elastic closed chest pockets intended for short term skin storage. I used them for used Gu wrappers, gloves andmy camera on this trip. The current colors may be not all that flattering foryou physical profile but this suit reallyworks as advertised if not even better!




I set a several decade old PB using this rig on Rainier recently. You might not want to be too critical on first impressions.


More interesting to me is that not only was I never passed on the uphill (which is extremely unusual) I actually passed a lot of folks both going up and coming down. Much of that"speed"was the difference in weight of my entire kit. But it also had as much to do with how capable my clothing was on the extreme ends of both hot and cold.



If it makes thatbig difference for me...you can only imagine the difference it might make for you. I write a blog but I am no fitness animal in the mtns. Far from it. When I can easily drop anyone else on the trail I am more than happy.



I had one goal using this suit. And that wasto climb with the least amount of effort. If I can turn Rainier into a half day's effort you likely can do even more with similar gear.



No hood on this suit. Which I can't really applaud for the application but like much better than with a hood. Even though no question I would want and use a hood if the conditions required it. I am admittedly not a skimo "racer" although I like being part of them. For me the majority of the time a hood isn't required or needed. So I am glad to see a finished product covered without the hood.






The stand-up collar is my favorite.


The collar is a high stand up version with plenty of coverage on the neck. My actual preference over a hood. Easy enough to add a thicker head band or hat. Short of really nasty weather my preference to dump excess heat is through my head and neck first.



Speaking of dumping heat. Both the under arms, which features tiny holes in the fabric.






under arm vents




And the back panel, via a mess panel are there to dump excess heat on the uphill and work exceptionally well imo.






The entire black backpanel is open weave nylon mess. Directly under your pack which really helps me control my body temperature on the uphill. And easily protected with even a light wind shell or my favorite Patagonia Micro D pull over.


Funny how the good clothing works so easily in a "systems" approach over a broad spectrum of conditions and clothing choices. The Micro D or a simple base layer is one of the basics for me skiing, especially on the down side of the ski track.







As you can see from the length of this blog post there is a lot involved in the features of these race suits. And for the asking price of $400 per suit there should be. But I originally thought $1000 was a lot of money for a TLT boot and now I think the price is a steal for the weight and performance involved. Same on a "race" suit. Like the TLT P the suit is another piece of highly technical gear I will use almost anywhere in the mountain now if a ski boot is involved and I want to eat right on the effort.










Finally. One of the things that make or break a pair of pants for me BC and touring is the cuff. Movement pant and the Dynafit buckle system is a serious PIA to me. I like simple. Simple because I want the boot easy to get at and easy to adjust. But I also don't want snow in my boot. All of which is a problem for a TLT user. Or at least in my experience it is. For races to date I've used simple tights. Easier to hit the top buckle latch and not deal with Velcro/ cutting holes in one's pants and what to do with the buckles when open. The Movement pant is decent. But not fast to hit the hole in the pant leg and a true bitch to get on and off.No my favorite thing to use when in a hurry. So I have used several simple soft shells. Notably the Arcteryx Gamma LT pant as well.







CAMP suit is simply brilliant on those lines. The buckle slips in and out via a open and reinforced seam. It is the very best method I have seen yet to utilise the TLT buckle system. I was forced to put one small hole forthe cuff buckle latch to go through and lock the boot in down hill mode.. If I am not in a hurry, easy enough to use and latch/unlatchin the field. Durable and a slick system to keep snow and crap out of your boots with the boots wide open in walk mode.








Simple round hole I put in with a wood burner. Lycra is reinforced at the point and a soldering iron seems an obvious tool for the choice.







CAMP isn't the only one making race suits. Or the least expensive. I've not used any thing else for asimilar purpose other than the two piece Dynafit system they made for the recreational racer in previous winters. TheDynafit Movement pants and jacketsare really good imo. I use them both.



But the once piece suits are a big step up in performance. There is a reason they call them "race" suits. But the label doesn't mean they are only good on race day,












Dynafit Movement Pant and jacket











The CAMP Contest Race Suit










CONTEST SKI MOUNTAINEERING RACE SUIT


• Competitive Ski Mountaineering

• Constructed from durable, lightweight Lycra and mesh panels

• Double layers on the knees for warmth and durability

• Dedicated external pockets for fast access to skins and gels

• Internal pocket for avalanche transceiver

• Kevlar reinforced cuffs with reinforced elastic stirrups

• Dedicated slots for back boot buckles are compatible with all boot models

• Full chest zipper for temperature regulation and quick-zip for emergency evacuations
Holy smokes Batman! The new Contest ski mountaineering suit is optimized for competitive ski mountaineering like super suits are designed to combat villains and protect the victors. Lycra construction is lightweight and breathable and the mesh backing helps with temperature regulation even during the fastest competitions. Every detail has been tended to with dedicated skin pockets on the chest positioned at an angle that makes getting skins in and out fluid and natural, a dedicated external pocket for gels, an internal pocket for a transceiver, full-length chest zipper, stirrups, and back cuff slots designed to be compatible with all boot models. Suits like the Contest have become so perfectly optimized that many racers now wear their suits as a base layer even on casual back country days.

SPECS
ID: 1519
Sizes: S - M - L - XL
Weight (M): 480 g, oz
$399.95 USD





More here on the skimo race suits I do know a little about.



http://skitrab.com/en-no/c-22-clothing/49-dragon-track-suit-man.html




http://www.crazyidea.it/index.php/products/catalogo/undefined/undefined/race/page:4

http://www.dynafit.com/product/first-layer/dy-speed-up-race-suit-l





Bottom line? If you really want to preform better in the mountains, this is speed you can buy. People need to simply get over their aversion to Lycra based sportswear. Lycra isn't a right, it is a privilege to wear. But the privilege is not for the typical reasons most consider before sliding Lycra on or avoiding it in the store. It is a privilege to be able to go fast, safelyin the mountains. Any gear that helps you do that is a very good gear.



I have to remind myself of that fact as well, every time I pull my Lycraout of the gear room.

The use might be skiing, or a run, a Tri or a bike ride. Either way using Lycra is always worth the extra effort.

Shadow of My Former Self

It's been a strange winter season. In previous years, I'd stop riding "sporty bikes" some time in December, and not start again till late March. Both winters, I would gain about 10lb over that period of relative inactivity, which I'd then easily lose before June. No big deal, and I expected the same to happen this time. Instead, when I took a break from roadcycling a few weeks ago, I began to lose weight. At first I was glad: looking slender instead of dumpy, what's not to like! Must be all that skating and walking.



But deep down I knew that it wasn't true. I was probably losing weight because I was losing the muscle mass I'd built up roadcycling. And that meant that once I did get back on the bike I would be weaker than when I'd left off. Considering that I am doingthis in just over a month, that isn't good. Still, for a woman who has never been an athlete before it is very difficult to break the "weight loss = great!" association. I did not take my own sense of foreboding seriously enough.



...Until I emerged out of hibernation and went on a 12 mile ride in a strong headwind a few days ago. Yikes am I in trouble. Winded, legs hurting, just overall ridiculous. And it's been only weeks off the bike, with some half-hearted trainer attempts in the meantime. Let me tell you, I've never been so unhappy to fit into a smaller jeans size. I want my legs back!

The Berlin Family :: John D. and Susannah

Born on December 8th, 1792 near Abbottstown in York (now Adams) County, Pennsylvania, John D. Berlin was the eldest of nine children of John Frederick Berlin whose wife was reportedly Juliana Dietzler.



A record in the “Orphan's Court” of Adams County, Pennsylvania dated August 25, 1845 shows that John Sheffer, as heir at law of Frederick Berline in right of his wife Loretta, petitioned the court stating that “Frederick Berline died intestate September 18, 1843 leaving issue eight children, to wit: John, Henry, George, Loretta (wife of petitioner), Eli, Joel, Polly and Frederick. All over the age of twenty-one.”



Census records suggest that John D. Berlin may have resided with his father through 1810 in Adams County, Pennsylvania. I have not located John in the 1820 census where he would have been 28 years old and single.



It is not known when John D. Berlin settled in Columbiana County, Ohio but on February 16th, 1826 he was married to Susannah Huffman in that county. They resided near Washingtonville which lies on the line delineating the counties of Columbiana and Mahoning.



Susannah Huffman (or Hoffman) was born March 9, 1804 in Columbiana County, Ohio. She was the second of eleven children of John and Catherine (Coy) Hoffman. There arises some confusion in several published biographies of Coy family members. It seems that Susannah's aunt, Elizabeth Coy, also married a man by the name of John Berlin! Those biographies state that Elizabeth and John Berlin resided in Nappanee, Indiana. Not true. Elizabeth Coy did marry John Berlin but they lived in Ohio. That John Berlin was born January 8, 1777 and was probably the son of John Nicholas Berlin (brother of John D. Berlin's grandfather) which would make John and John D. first cousins once removed. A record on Find A Grave shows that that John Berlin lived to be 101 years old. He is buried in Stark County, Ohio while his wife Elizabeth is buried in Summit County.



I have never seen a record that indicates what the “D” stands for in John D. Berlin's name but suspect that it was used primarily to distinguish him from that other John Berlin. Columbiana, Mahoning, Portage, Stark and Summit counties are all in the northeast corner of Ohio, which is where both of them lived at various times. His mother's maiden name is reported to be Dietzler, so perhaps he used the “D” in her honor.



On May 26, 1827 Solomon Berlin, the first child of John D. and Susannah, was born. They remained in Columbiana County, near Washingtonville, for the next 19 years and had eight more children: Catherine, 1830; Lydia, 1832; Josiah, 1834; Jacob, 1836; Mary, 1838; Sarah, 1840; Elizabeth, 1843; and Lovina, 1845.



In 1846 John D. Berlin moved with his family to the Rootstown area in Portage County, Ohio where they lived for 18 years. Their youngest son, Joseph Milton was born there in 1848. He was killed in the spring of 1856 in a wagon accident, at the age of seven years.



As with the majority of my ancestors, John D. Berlin was a farmer. As a result, there doesn't seem to be a lot of records on him. I've found him in land records and census records: In 1830 and 1840 in Columbiana County, Ohio as John Barlein and Jno. D. Berlin, respectively. In 1850 in Rootstown, Portage County, Ohio he is enumerated as John Elsworth! He and his family were listed on the lines immediately after Dolly Elsworth. The names and ages of the children match his family completely so there is no doubt that it is the family of John D. Berlin. In 1860 he was enumerated as J. D. Berlin and was still in Rootstown. At that time only the four youngest daughters were still living at home.



Solomon Berlin, the oldest child of John D. and Susan, married Fianna Slabaugh in 1851 and shortly thereafter moved to Locke Township, Elkhart County, Indiana. Catherine Berlin, the next oldest child, was married about 1854 to Frederick Daniel Richmond. They lived in Iowa for several years (where their first two children were born) before settling in Elkhart County about 1858. Jacob Berlin, fifth child of John D. and Susan, was living with his brother Solomon in Elkhart County in 1860.



Susannah's sister, Elizabeth Coy, had married Jacob Stauffer and they had moved with their family to Elkhart County in 1852. John D's sister, Loretta (full name Clarissa Loretta) and her husband, John Shafer, and their daughter and son-in-law, Anna and Isaac Rodibush (or Raudenbush) moved to Elkhart County, Indiana prior to 1860 where they are enumerated in Union township.



With family (and undoubtedly some friends too) already living in Elkhart County, Indiana it was not surprising to learn that John D. and Susan moved there also. Family letters show that John D. and Susan left Portage County, Ohio just a few days after the marriage of their daughter Sarah to George W. Greene (they were married on August 28, 1864). Traveling with John D. and Susan were their daughters Elizabeth (aka Lizzie) and Lovina, and their son Josiah along with his wife and two sons. Three daughters of John D. and Susan remained in Portage County – Sarah, Lydia and Mary Ann. Lydia had married Myron Collins in November 1858 and Mary Ann was still single.



John D. Berlin and Susan were found in the 1870 census in Locke Township, Elkhart County. Residing with them were his brother Frederic (a blind potter, age 60) and his sister Polly (age 58). By then the two youngest daughters had married: Elizabeth to Samuel Coppes in 1867 and Lovina to Eli Yarian in 1866. Lydia, Mary Ann, and Sarah were all still living in Portage County, Ohio.



Lydia's husband, Myron Collins, had died of disease in a hospital in Nashville, Tennessee in April 1865. Nine years later (September 1874) she would marry Henry Woodruff and move to LaCygne, Linn County, Kansas. Henry died in 1898. Shortly thereafter, Lydia went to live in Elkhart County, Indiana.



Toward the end of 1866 Mary Ann Berlin also moved to Indiana. She was living in Elkhart County in 1875 when she married Lewis B. Winder.



Thus it was that Sarah (Berlin) Greene was the only member of the family who remained in Portage County, Ohio. She would live in the Ravenna area the rest of her life, giving birth to seven children, five of whom would live to adulthood. One of her children, Harry B. Greene, would move to Nappanee, Elkhart County, Indiana prior to 1900.



On November 11, 1879, John D. Berlin passed away at the home of his daughter Mary Winder in Locke, Elkhart County, Indiana. His wife Susan died five months later, on April 22, 1880 also at Mary's home. They are both buried in the Primitive Baptist Cemetery in Locke Township, Elkhart County, Indiana.





The family of John D. and Susannah (Hoffman) Berlinfront row: Elizabeth, John D., Susannah, Lydia , Solomonback row: Mary, Sarah, Lovina, Josiah, Catherine

A copy of the above photograph was received in the late 1990s from a descendant of Solomon Berlin. It is not known who now has the original or whether there were any markings on it to indicate where or when it was taken. I'm guessing that it was taken between 1862 and 1868. The son Jacob is not included – he was killed on April 7, 1862 (the second day of fighting during the Battle of Shiloh) – and Josiah died in March 1869.



John D. and Susannah (Hoffman) Berlin are my 3rd great grandparents. Their daughter, Lovina, married Eli Yarian and their daughter Susie Yarian would marry Henry Phend. They were the parents of Rolland Victor Phend who would marry Hazlette Brubaker. And they would become the parents of Virginia (Phend) Wiseman, my mother...



Additional information on The Berlin Family:

• Bible Records


• Introduction to The Letters


• The Cast of Characters


• List of The Letters