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I haven't got around to posting this yet, but I managed to have a birthday and survive yesterday. I would like to say that I have some kind of divine revelation to mark the occasion this year, but that would be a complete lie. About the only thing I've discovered is that Queensland traffic lights are slow enough that they allow time to do a few stretches in the closing stages of a long ride if you happen to cop a red one. I practiced that on the way home from Little Nerang Dam this morning, where I was reminded of just what a nice ride that really is at dawn.
In other news, I have managed to complete the full journal for my trip to Christmas Creek earlier this year. I wrote about it on this blog, but the journal includes a few pictures that didn't make it onto these pages. I have some more tour journals to update before heading off on the New Zealand trip next month, with all the riding I plan to do in that time (starting with The Wonders of Glorious Mee this weekend), it could be a busy five weeks or so.

Pat Conroy's Writing

I have a new favorite author, Pat Conroy.  I just finished reading Beach Music.  This book would make a great movie.  I found myself reading passages out loud to whomever would listen.  His prose is amazing.  I don't have the ability to properly describe the deliciousness and sensuality of his writing.  He writes about the South Carolina Low Country in such a way that you can feel the salty, moisture-laden air on your face and smell the marshes at low tide.  The story itself reels you in as it gradually unfolds and you find yourself swept along for a ride you don't want to end.  There's a specialness about the Low Country I can't describe. We just got back from a week in South Carolina.  While there, I noticed that one of their car tags has on it IN GOD WE TRUST.  Also, while Georgia changed its flag to be more politically correct, South Carolina still flies the Confederate flag on their state flag.  I like their style and tenacity for their heritage.
Ah, I love the South!  I love to travel but am always so glad to be home.  When we lived in California for two and a half years and I would fly into Atlanta, I was seriously tempted to kiss the ground when I stepped off the plane.  I cried every day for those two and a half years because I was so homesick for the South.  God had lessons for me to learn, but that's another post for another day.

Jonny & Ming Ming in Lincolnshire

Here they are, the final people to come through Immigration and Passport Control. All the hoops have been jumped through, the visa checked, questions asked - Jonny and Ming Ming can now begin their holiday in England.


Our tiny local airport was closing down for the night - the doors were locked behind us - as we made our way out through the car park. It was almost ten o'clock at night and the staff wanted to go home. So did we.

The young ones were up and about before George and I got up to let the hens out and see to the animals. Their bodies were still on Shanghai time.

Ming Ming has a particularly soft spot for Bennie, who adores all the attention.

Here they are trying to work out which hen is Xiaou JiGeorge is the only one who knows for sure.


Keeping in touch with their friends in China...



Hats on - and off to the fruit farm along the road, strawberries for tea!



The guardian of the gate, what a poser.


Despite my protestations that she is on holiday, and should be relaxing,Ming Ming has been cooking some superb Chinese meals.She is a far better cook than I will ever be.Ingredients are beautifully sliced, diced,and beautifully arranged.The food is spicy and delicious.
Young Francesca loves Ming Ming's meals.The spicier the better, as far as she is concerned.
Harry hasn't tried one yet - it seems to be party seasonamongst his many friends - so we scarcely see him.
However, he called round a little after 7 a.m. yesterday.He wanted to see his two favourite people- and he didn't mean Grandpa or Grandma!


I couldn't resist taking a photograph of Ming Ming wearing my special apron.
No doubt you are already on photo-overload, so I won't post any more just now.
It is wonderful having Jonny home and it is a genuine pleasure having Ming Ming here

to stay with us for a few weeks. She is not only beautiful to look at, but she has a wonderfully bubbly personality.There is no language barrier, despite the fact that our Mandarin is non-existent and Ming Ming's English

is slightly less than perfect.
Her smile lights up the place

and her enthusiasm is contagious.

She is great fun to be with.
The fields around our place are festooned with beautiful red poppies.Ming Ming was amazed...In China they are not permitted to grow them,and if they didthe police would chop them downand the farmer would be in big trouble..!
Most evenings we have been treated to a special Chinese tea ceremony.I'll post about it, next time.x

Apologies for not having the time to read or comment on many blogs right now - life is hectic and fun.

Silliness

Some would say that it's silly to ride 173km over two mountains with a total of over 2,400 metres of climbing in the middle of the summer heat in Queensland. After yesterday I'd probably agree with them. That said, I'd probably do it all again exactly the same way. It was obvious fairly early that it was going to be a hot day, and the delay in having to detour around a triathlon course probably didn't help things. Nevertheless, I managed to make reasonable, if not spectacular progress through the gorge to Canungra, and up the old winding road to O'Reillys.

The road winding up the mountain has a gentle gradient for about 15km, and a lot of old-world charm. Personally, I think narrow winding roads like this should be heritage-listed and never altered in anyway beyond basic maintenance. In other words, f*ck the hoons. The fact that a few of them wipe themselves out there isn't necessarily a bad thing, and certainly no reason to destroy a part of our heritage.

Of course, the forest at the top where the gradients steepen has as much charm as the road has character, with all sorts of creatures calling it home. There was mild frustration at the picnic ground at the top -- with "improvements" making water refills difficult. It was virtually all downhill back to Canungra, but the temperature rose by 16 degrees C in little over an hour on that descent.
In Canungra I had a decision, do I ride home the normal way, and possibly forego a century and the back climb of Beechmont on account of the heat (it was 34 degrees C at this stage), or do I just climb it anyway. I opted for the latter option. The western climb of Beechmont is much harder than the front road. It's gradients are steep and it sees little breeze. Early on it wasn't such a problem, but the kick near the Marian Valley monastery was a killer. I made it, just. I've had some great times up on Beechmont Plateau, but I've never been so glad to reach the summit as I was on this sweltering afternoon.

I now had to ride the familiar roads across the plateau to Lower Beechmont, before the descent back to the coast. The trouble was that my legs were toast after the last climb, and with the northerly blowing like crazy on the mountain, I really had to take my time. Fortunately, the scenery provided plenty of compensation for that.

The final descent back to the coast, and even the final 15km from Nerang were strangely quiet. Not that I was complaining about this fact. Somehow I found the power to finish the ride strongly, before heading straight for a cold shower on my return. I know I made plans to destroy summer this year, but it's going to be a little more difficult than I thought. Still, this gives me century number three for the month (and year), and takes my total climbing above 12,000 metres. Next stop, Crows Nest next weekend.

The Gales Storm Gathering premiers

The view from Middle Island looking toward Marquette on a calm day.

We just returned from the first annual Gales Storm Gathering, a Great Lakes rough-water symposium based this year in Marquette, Michigan. We write "based" and not "held" because while all the coaches and participants stayed in Marquette, class locations depended on conditions. One of the unique aspects of this symposium was the night-before planning: Depending on the forecast, classes would be offered on surfing, rough-water rescues, incident management, rock gardening, navigation, and long boats in current. Even the scenic tours offered opportunities to learn boat control in wind and waves.

We expected rough water on Lake Superior in early October, but were instead treated to a classic Indian summer. The days were warm and sunny, and the winds generally light. The coaches scouted the two key locations: the nearby coast of Lake Superior, with its rocky islands and shoals, and a stretch of the Menominee River that offers current, eddies and rapids.

Scouting the Menominee to find the right line.

When the symposium began, the winds picked up, but they were off-shore instead of on-shore, creating no surf. So day one began with a drive through the Hiawatha National Forest--a visual feast of fall leaves--to Manistique,where Lake Michigan was delivering waves to five feet.

A pre-surf session talk about launching and landing.

Another unique aspect of this symposium was the ratio of instructors to students. With 12 instructors and 36 students, it was possible to safely take people out in dynamic conditions and keep class sizes small. This also meant that instructors and students got to know one another well over the course of the weekend, and everybody benefitted from working with guest coaches Shawna Franklin and Leon Somme of Body Boat Blade.

Shawna debriefing with her class after an incident-management scenario.

Even though we never got rough conditions on Lake Superior, the symposium managed to deliver on its promises, thanks to trips to Lake Michigan and the Menominee and creative use of rocky shorelines. It was a pleasure to work with participants who had substantial paddling skill and experience and were eager to be challenged and learn.

Cliff jumping, kayaker style.

This symposium will happen again next October, based in Wawa, Ontario--another place known for rough water in the fall, but that also has a river to ensure conditions no matter what Mother Nature delivers. We're looking forward to it already.

Ahhhhh Tahoe - Day One

Benefit for Humane Society Truckee-Tahoe & Squaw Rescue Dogs
Checkin' things out - wow, I love this place!

View from the village - Squaw, that is!

They had a "splash dogs"- sort of - a lake dive off a really weird platform. Most of us doggers wanted to take a detour hehee!
Here's a new pal I met named Jackson.
And we met Sierra Rose later, along with some other doggies. Goldens are really rare up here hahahahahah!

Lunchtime for hoomans, though you'd never know it!

Invigoration

Last night I didn't get very much sleep, thanks largely to my new neighbours (I've since formulated plans to deal with them, which involve Manic Street Preachers CD's and a time early enough to be really inconvenient). I woke up this morning feeling lethargic, tired, all the usual symptoms. Then I got on the bike and headed for Numinbah Valley, almost sleepwalking through suburbia, over Highland Park, into the foothills of the Beechmont Range, past Hinze Dam. All of a sudden everything changed. I felt renewed as the road twisted and turned, climbed and descended spectacularly. This is the road I christened the Wild Colonial Road, largely due to scenery like this:

Then I headed for the southern end of the valley, having second thoughts about wearing red if nothing else, but it wasn't quite a road block.

Beyond this, the southern end of Numinbah Valley, as the road gradually climbs toward the Macpherson Range is one of the most spectacular rides in the country. I've taken so many photos of these mountains it isn't funny anymore.

Having been rejuvenated and inspired by the sheer beauty of this part of the world, I prepared for the screaming descent into New South Wales, and the Tweed Valley. One of these days I'll do this ride in reverse, just for a slightly different perspective.

Kilts and cassocks

The attire of the day in the centre of Edinburgh today for the Pope's visit to Scotland - an outbreak of kilts with a good sprinkling of cassocks. These were the scenes on Princes Street at 8.30 a.m. as the crowds began to line the route of the Pope's arrival.
The woman below is wearing the traditional Scottish country dancing costume (not including the jacket!).

Kilts, in ascending order.

Kilt and tweed jacket.

If you don't have a kilt, you drape a tartan rug over your shoulders.

One of the many flag stations.

The Pope joined in the tartan mood, wearing a tartan scarf around his shoulders. Today is St Ninian's Day, so a new tartan, St Ninian, was created for the Papal visit.

Closing down here too

Lothiane at Oslo Daily Photo has an atmospheric post about a little snack kiosk, closed for the winter. I passed the ice cream kiosk in Princes Street Gardens, in the centre of town, and saw that it had closed too. Behind it, the Scottish flag flies in the westerly gale. Perhaps it's an instinctive seasonal thing, like the migration of birds. All across Europe, starting in the North, the snack bars and ice cream kiosks are closing for the winter.

The Jackson Visitor Center finally closes its doors

Without too much fanfare, the Jackson Visitor Center closed its doors to the public today, September 28th, . The NPS is replacing the facility with a new Jackson Visitor Center, scheduled to open (with much fanfare) on October 10th.
For curiosity and fun, I hung out near the main doorway as the final visitors exited and walked away. Over the past two weeks, a public reader board noted today’s significance by counting down the days. Next to it was a hand drawn picture of the space saucer shaped visitor center blasting off into orbit above Mount Rainier. As the front doors were finally locked, you could see rangers and concession employees giggling and smiling inside.
Before the doors closed, I spoke with about one dozen visitors. Interestingly, most didn’t know before arriving in the park that today was the Jackson Visitor Center’s “last day.” Those who did primarily lamented the loss of the 360 degree view from the observation deck, and why wouldn’t they? Today was perfect and the sun was showing off as it slowly slipped behind the mountains and down the Nisqually Valley. The day had been clear and surprisingly warm for late September.
A small crowd cheered as the family (above and left) was informally proclaimed “the last visitors to the JVC.” By the way, there is nothing official about this distinction. It’s just that the doors were promptly locked behind them as they left. Turns out, they were from Puyallup and cruised up in a restored 1969 Cougar to say goodbye. Here is TNT reporter Jeff Mayor talking with them. Note the smiles.
Anyway, now we're just wondering: what sort of welcoming will the new JVC get? More after October 10th.

Calendar

The Bicycle Trails calendar is currently at the printer. I would have them for sale next week. You can reserve your copy by writing to: photos (at) TomWinfield (dot) com. Calendars are $15.00 plus $3.00 shipping (US Only). Iowa residents add 7% ($1.05) sales tax. PayPal accepted.
A PDF version of the calendar is available for viewing at my photography site: http://www.tomwinfieldphotography.com/sale/BicyclesTrails12.pdf
My photos are not the wide, sweeping views typical of calendars. They provide an intimate view of the trail I was riding at the time. All photos on the calendar were taken while riding one of my bicycles.

Christmas with Judy

Pelican Roost RV Park — NS Mayport, Florida
Temps: Lo 40F / Hi 70F (4C / 21C)

It’s a-blowin’ outside again! There was a strong wind advisory through 6:00p, which has now been lifted, but the winds must not have gotten the message — looks like we’re going to get rocked to sleep tonight!

We also had some strong downpours mid-morning from a storm moving in from the west. But that didn’t last long, and in its aftermath we had sunshine and warm temps. We even managed a nice 1½-mile walk during a lull in the wind. And that was the extent of our fun today. We spent the rest of the day at home, checking things off our back-burnered projects list.

I might not have anything fun to report for today, but that’s OK — I have lots to write about anyway.

You see, Judy (of Travels with Emma) was kind enough to invite us to join her for Christmas dinner at the Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge (ONWR) Volunteer Village! We must have been communicating telepathically as her invitation came just after I had checked the map for distances to see if we could run up and visit with her while we’re here in Jacksonville.

Two silver-haired ladies a-rockin on the porch of the Chesser Island Homestead.

Our Christmas Day unfolded with us following the directions Judy had emailed me. Good thing we had them, as Ms GPS simply could not locate the street address for the refuge. Since the ONWR was closed for Christmas, Judy met us at the gate for maintenance employees and took us over to the volunteer village first where we met Barry and Bill, a couple of her fellow-volunteers.

We follow Judy’s directions (blue arrows) to Okefenokee, but let Ms GPS dictate
the return (red arrows) — 142 miles (227 km) . The short red squiggly line is the
route of the personal tour Judy gave us at ONWR.

All together now — “Erin can’t resist photographing a mural when she sees one.”
Mui happened to spy this one as we were driving through Folkston, Georgia
and stopped without having to be asked to do so.

Those of you who have already had the pleasure of meeting Judy know that she is as delightful in person as she is on her blog. And she’s a dynamo to be sure; her recently-developed hip problems may have slowed her down a bit, but she’s still full of energy and enthusiasm for what she does.

Judy’s invitation to us included a drive along Swamp Island Drive and a visit to the Chesser Homestead. Nothing like a private tour on a refuge where we were the only ones wandering around — as Judy would say, “cool beans!” Our wildlife sightings were limited, though we did see several birds flitting about; a sapsucker that stood still for a photo op; an alligator that Judy referred to as “momma” peeking her nose out of the water; and a zillion palmettos and towering pine trees, as well as new-to-us pitcher plants making a comeback after being chopped up by an overzealous mower last spring.

Left: Hooded Pitcher Plant
Center: Sapsucker — look at how well he blends in with the bark!
Right: Parrot Pitcher Plant

Our next stop was at the Chesser Island Homestead, which was built by Tom Chesser, one of the nine kids of Sam and Sarah Chesser. They are all descendants of W.T. Chesser who, in the 1800s, settled the island that now bears his name. Tom and his wife, Iva, raised their seven children at this homestead, which, in addition to the house, includes several outbuildings — smokehouse, syrup shed, chicken coop, corncrib, and hog pen. Having read about the homestead on Judy’s blog, we were thrilled to have a chance to visit it in person — and have the place to ourselves to explore the nooks and crannies one might not be able to take the time to check out otherwise.

I’ll let the photo essay and captions tell the story. (All photos post-processed in Sepia, which I think fits the mood of the place and the period of time better than color photos.)

Tom Chesser, and a carpenter who owned a tractor-operated sawmill, built the house in 1927.
Note the big yard, which is free of trees and vegetation; this was on purpose to reduce
the danger of fire and minimize the number of insects near the house.
The original shingle roof has been replaced with a metal one (as a fire deterrent).

Built of yellow pine and cypress, the construction of the house — which consisted of
3 bedrooms, a parlor, and a front porch — was completed in 21 days.
Note the heartwood blocks on which the house sits. Heartwood is resistant to decay;
the blocks here are at least 100 years old.

The furnishings in the parlor are accurate for the period when Tom Chesser and his
family lived here; but none of it is original to the house. The holiday decorations are
from the “Christmas at the Chesser Homestead” Program (more about it here in Judy’s blog).

The only furnishing original to the house is the stove ; it was too heavy to be taken out.

Mui — the cook in our family — is fascinated with the kitchen, which was an add-on to the house.

The house was initially built with just three bedrooms; two side bedrooms were Later
added to accommodate additional children. Pictured on the left is the master
bedroom; the story goes that the children had to climb through the window to the
right of the bed (top right) to get to their bedrooms (bottom right) — no sneaking out at night!
No, we did not have to go through the bedroom window; a door was later added
for easier access to the side bedrooms.

Detail shots from the bedrooms.

The back porch, with its bathing facilities, was a later add-on to the house.

The syrup shed is the scene of the annual “sugar cane boil” event; Judy tells the story in this post.
Clockwise from top left: the shed; the sugar cane mill; some of the household items used
on laundry day; and the big vat in which the sugar cane juice is boiled down to make syrup.

It sure was fascinating to get a glimpse into the life of the Chessers. While life back then was simpler — no electricity, and definitely no techno-gadget complications — people had to be quite hardy to survive and eek out a living from the land. Not sure how we would have done under those circumstances.

At Judy’s encouragement, we left her to enjoy a bit of quiet time on the porch while we went for a 1-mile walk on the nearby trail. Short our walk might have been, but there was plenty that caught our attention along the way.

A variety of shelf fungi.

Christmas dinner commenced around 2:00p and was a veritable feast, with a most-delicious ham provided by Judy, and side dishes and desserts provided by everyone else. We tried our best to put a dent in the amount of food on the table, but there was so much — both variety and quantity — that I don’t think we did too well on that score.

We hated to eat and run, but we wanted to get home before dark, so we bid Judy adieu around 4:00p — but not before accepting a jar of sugar cane syrup that Judy generously shared from her stash. I see pancakes for breakfast in the near future.

We allowed Ms GPS to pick the return route home. She opted to take us back on rural roads instead of the freeway — always a better choice when it comes to seeing quirky things of interest … like a rusty old truck that was decked out for the holidays! It was a photo op that was simply impossible to resist — and I didn’t ;-)

Ms Garmin’s preferred route took us across the St Johns River by ferry — our second time riding it in the short time we’ve been in the area. The bonus this time was a gorgeous sunset, which we would have otherwise missed — most definitely worth the $6 fare. (I think I said the ride is less than 10 minutes the first time I wrote about the ferry; make that 5 minutes or less.)

In addition to these three, I posted one of my favorite sunset shots in our Viewfinder blog if you wish to check it out.

And that’s a wrap for Christmas Day … and Boxing Day (as today is known to our friends in Canada).