Our Cherry Tree

This tree is amazing!  Our whole family anticipates it's annual blooming.  I don't know the exact name for it, only that it's an ornamental Japanese cherry tree.
When the petals start to fall, the whole ground turns pink.  I love to stand under it when the wind blows and have the petals swirl all around and over me.  It's like being in a snowstorm of pink!  Fabulous, fabulous tree!  It  makes me happy!
P.S.  Those are seashells we collected last summer on the picnic table.  I don't want to throw them away but don't know what to do with them, so for now they're here.

Officially the Best Street in Britain!

Welcome to Steep Hill in Lincoln. It has been named as winner of The Great Street Award.













It was chosen for its historical assets (Roman built) and valuable place in the city's future. It fought off competition from all over the country, streets in Edinburgh and Glasgow were close contenders in the final round.





Well done Lincoln!

Mirabelle's First "Hike" ..

So last Thursday we were running some errands in Shoreline and decided to stop by Shoreview Park as it was not raining and we needed something to do that was not our errands. Jennifer and I had stopped by there previously, but I think we were on bicycles and it was our turnaround point for a ride, complete with bathrooms. We only knew of the ball fields and were not fully aware of the wooded paths at the park. Heading there last Thursday, I presumed there must be some type of wooded trail system.
When we arrived last week we poked around a bit before discovering the map of the trails. We headed in for a walk. It turns out, for a city park, Shoreview/Boeing Creek Park has fairly rugged trails. Muddy eroded off camber trails provided us with some interesting footing as we headed down to the creek. Jennifer was fortunate enough to be wearing running shoes with some tread, while I was slip sliding around in my treadless Sanuks. There was a "wet" creek crossing that I had to help Jennifer navigate as she was toting around our precious cargo.
Some of the trees in the park were of good size too. (With signs telling you just how big they are.) Plenty of 200'+ Douglas Firs in the park with sizable trunks. We walked all the way down to Hidden Lake, and then back up to the dog run before eventually returning to the car. I recommend to anyone in the north end of Seattle to take a short trip up to Shoreview if they are looking to get away from their typical walks in Carkeek and Golden Gardens. Just be prepared to get your feet wet.

Back to Mitchell Lake Audubon

One of my very favorite nature Volksmarches in San Antonio is the Mitchell Lake Audubon wetlands. I go frequently because it is very close to our RV park and I always see a variety of wildlife. Bob came with me today. We walked 10K (6.2 miles) in two hours ten minutes which included stopping to spot and watch birds and taking photos.

What was so nice today is that the temperature took a plunge overnight. During the night we had very loud thunder, loud rain, and lightning. I remember waking up at 2 a.m. and 4 a.m. to rain pounding on the roof. Because San Antonio has had quite a bit of rain in the past three weeks, things are greening up beautifully. Walking today was pleasant with cooler air and light breezes. That's good because there isn't much shade on the Mitchell Lake walk.

First up on the critter-spotting radar was a nice-sized lizard on the railing leading up to the Visitor Center.

Texas spiny lizard

The first third of our walk we only saw mockingbirds, but once we got to the poulders (ponds), bird sightings were more frequent. When we signed in at the Visitor Center, we noted that a number of people had signed in for a Bird Tour. We weren't sure if they would still be out on the trails. Sure enough, they were. One of these days, I am going on the Bird Tour. They have one on the second Tuesday of the month.

We spotted quite a few different birds today. I asked the lady in the Visitor Center if the fall migration had started yet and she said no. I'm definitely coming back to look for unusual birds in a few weeks!

Semipalmated sandpiper (Calidris pusilla)

Least sandpiper.

The Bird Tour group below. If you have seen the movie "The Big Year" with Steve Martin, Jack Black and Owen Wilson, you will know that this photo shows bird-watchers in their element. It's a funny movie. If you haven't seen it, give it a shot. These people were not posing for me, I caught them doing what bird-watchers do.

The Bird Tour group.

American pelicans in flight formation.

American pelicans.

In the following photo, you can see a portion of the hundreds of birds hanging out in this poulder.

Great egrets, tri-colored heron, American avocets, coot.

Tri-colored heron.

Roseate skimmer dragonfly.

Cool-looking pods.

American pelicans in flight.

Black-necked stilts.

Least sandpipers.

Cute coot retreating.

American avocet.

American avocet.

Good comparison in differences between the black-necked

stilt versus the American avocet.

Adult scissor-tailed flycatcher.

Ground cover with tiny magenta flowers.

The beetle in the following photo was running across the ground. I was having a hard time getting a photo until he got up next to the rock where he stopped and froze in place. This black beetle is about 2" long.

Big black beetle (Calosoma macrum)

Laredo striped whiptail lizard.

I always get my nature fix walking the trails at Mitchell Lake. I hope you enjoyed the show.

After our walk, we rested and had lunch. I did the laundry, though Bob offered, but I knew he wanted to go to work for a bit.

And now for a couple of kitty photos...

We have totally conquered the mousy plaything.

So sweet. (Believe me, they weren't this quiet at 4:00 a.m.!)

The rest of this lovely Sunday Bob went to Random event center to see his son, Randall, and to talk to his boss. I stayed home and did chores: vacuumed, hand-washed delicate laundry, filled new hummingbird feeder, cleaned and filled the cardinal feeder with seed that is supposed to be bitter to squirrels (we'll see how that goes), and put some new Velcro in our laundry hamper to hold in the laundry bag.

In the evening, I watched "60 Minutes" and when Bob came home we watched "The Amazing Race" (with channel flipping for him to see bits of the Dodgers/Atlanta game).

I hope you had a good weekend too. Enjoy your week.

The end.

Travel Bug out.

Suspended Between Times

Journal Entry-Thursday, August 6, 7:25 a.m.
I love the quiet of an early morning house before anyone else is up. I sit on the couch facing the dining room watching the morning sun make dappled leaf patterns on the curtains and rug. The tick tock of the mantel clock sounds in my left ear. My journal waits on my lap to receive thoughts hovering between dreams half remembered and the day's to-do list.

First winter climb…

This is great, it really does feel like I’m doing things for the first time all over again, and not just because I’ve lost so much ability to my surgery layoff. During the week, I decided to see if my ankle would be ready to handle a day of winter climbing. It’s quite a big step up from what I’ve done on it up to now (mostly very overhanging circuits indoors). I was rightly worried. I managed it, but only just.

I went out with Kev to Aonach Mor. Kev had been wanting to do Stirling Bridge (VI,7) for years and so we headed for that on a nice morning which was a fine reminder what I’d been missing due to the injury. Kev jumped on it and got to the difficult part but eventually came down so I went up it. The climbing felt quite straightforward. The main problem was cold hands which gave me the most nauseating hot aches I’ve had in a long time. Or perhaps I am softened by my indoor time. All too soon the fun was over and it was time to hobble off down the hill. Just as we were reaching the Gondola I could feel my ankle hurting more and more and was thinking ‘thank goodness the walking is nearly over’. 5 minutes before we got to it, the Gondola was closed early due to the strengthening wind.
The walk back down the line of the Gondola was horrible. A real teeth gritter. I felt bad for putting my ankle through such trauma and braced myself for the next day being even worse. However, to my surprise, by lunchtime the next day it felt quite good and was able to complete another 8a circuit in TCA with no problems.
So there are more ups than downs right now. Net progress.

Gunks Routes: Sixish (5.4+)

(Photo: following the 5.3 pitch two of Sixish)



Sixish was one of my first outdoor climbing experiences. It may well have been THE first experience I had in the Gunks.



It was the summer of 2006. I was with my friend Greg, who'd introduced me to climbing in April of the same year. Greg had been climbing for a couple years. He had some leading under his belt, but not much.



I was little more than a liability to him. My experience was limited to toproping indoors with a GriGri. When we climbed outdoors, Greg had to teach me the standard commands and tutor me in ATC usage at the start of every pitch. I was just along for the ride, willing to follow Greg up anything. I was enthusiastic, but I brought nothing to the team. By agreeing to climb with me, Greg knew he was taking responsibility for both of us.



I remember nothing about the first two pitches. As I recall they went uneventfully enough.



What has stayed with me is what happened at the end of pitch two. We arrived at the GT Ledge and Greg began to scope out the 5.4 pitch three. And he wasn't at all pleased, because it looked scary. Over our heads was a gigantic roof. The guidebook said to move left to where the roof met the wall, and to climb up on the outside face of the cliff. Then we were to traverse back right just above the lip of the giant roof, and underneath a second roof, for about 15 feet to a notch, where we would head straight up to the top.



Greg thought the traverse looked precarious. It didn't appear to him that it could possibly be only 5.4. He worried that if he fell he'd hang below the roof and have trouble getting back on the rock. He was especially upset about a pointy dead tree stump, about ten feet tall, that stood on the GT Ledge just below the finishing notch. Greg envisioned taking a fall at the end of the traverse and being impaled on this stump. This was an unlikely event, but Greg can be morbid like that.



Of course, at the time, I had no tools with which to judge the likelihood of any of Greg's fears coming to pass. I just sat there impotently as he thought out loud about the risks of continuing, and about bailing. He considered leaving gear behind so we could rappel off. He worried about whether we could get down to the station atop pitch one with a single rope rappel. Unsure of this, he decided we had no choice but to continue.



Of course, I now know that we could have easily reached the next station with a single rappel. And I now know that we could have done even better: a short walk left on the GT Ledge would have taken us to the bolts above Kama Sutra, an unbelievably easy two raps to the ground. No need to leave any gear behind. But back then I was a blank slate, with nothing to offer, which turned out to be a good thing in this instance because our collective lack of information led us to continue with the climb.



Finally Greg led pitch three of Sixish; he got through it with no problems. Then I followed the pitch and it turned out to be a formative experience in my climbing life. I had no expectations, but the pitch nevertheless surprised and delighted me. No pitch in a gym was ever like this. The climbing up the face was straightforward, and then a perfect foot rail appeared just where you needed it to move back to the right above the giant roof. Traversing felt entirely different than moving upward; the most elementary of steps seemed somehow insecure when the movement was sideways. The position between the two roofs added a thrilling element of exposure. Then the exit through the notch to the top featured good holds, but the features of the real rock again seemed entirely new to me. Maneuvering my body through the notch was unlike any climbing I'd done before.



I arrived atop the cliff to find Greg totally high on having successfully done it. The lesson for him was that Dick Williams can be trusted. If Dick says the pitch is 5.4, you should have faith the holds will be there.



For me, the lessons were different. I was learning what real climbing was like. I was at a stage where I still found pulling on plastic to be novel, great fun. But doing a climb like Sixish made me see that climbing outside had so much more to offer. And I began to fall in love with the special features of the Gunks: the wandering traverses, the roofs, the escapes. The peace of sitting on the GT Ledge, comfortably belaying your partner in an atmosphere of seeming isolation among giant rocky overhangs. The pleasure of watching the birds slowly circle, of admiring the green valley below.



Fast-forward five years to . I was climbing with Margaret on a very hot day. She was looking for easy leads, and after I led Son of Easy O (5.8) in the bright sunshine, I was looking to collapse, I was so dehydrated. We took the very short walk over to Sixish, and upon finding out it was in the shade, we decided to do it.





(Photo: Placing gear at the crux of the 5.4+ pitch one of Sixish)



I was figuring I'd lead pitch one because Margaret seemed interested in taking the easiest pitches. In the case of Sixish, the easiest pitch is the middle one, which is only 5.3. I also thought it might be fun to try the 5.6 variation start to the climb. But then we looked at the traditional 5.4+ start to the climb, which ascends a large left-facing flake and then moves left into the big corner system, and it seemed pretty straightforward. Margaret said she thought she'd be fine leading it. I was sure she'd be more than fine leading it and I was thrilled to follow her.



It turned out to be a bit of a sandbag. If I'd been told this pitch was rated 5.6 I wouldn't have argued. The climbing past the initial crux flake is steep and pumpy. The holds are very good, but hanging out to deal with pro is surprisingly strenuous. Then the pitch moves left to the big corner and it gets pretty pumpy all over again. This pitch is not very long, maybe 60 feet or so, but it packs a lot of value in.



Margaret had no trouble with the climbing, of course, but she did get a bit confused about where to belay. I told her I thought I remembered that she was to go all the way around the big corner to the left and onto the main face to finish the pitch. But she found a small ledge in the big corner which seemed to match the "small belay stance" mentioned in Dick's guidebook, so she stopped there. When I arrived I thought she'd made the right choice, but then I began to lead pitch two and as soon as I moved onto the main face I reached a much better stance with some fixed gear. This was obviously the right place to do it. It wasn't an issue of safety or even really of convenience, and Margaret didn't miss any important high-quality climbing by stopping where she did. But you'll find if you lead pitch one of Sixish that you'll have a more comfy belay if you move all the way around the corner onto the main face.



I led the 5.3 pitch two, and it was such a pleasure. The pitch goes up and slightly left, passing an overhang. Then it moves right to a vertical crack system that provides plentiful holds all the way to the GT Ledge. As I led the pitch I was struck by how nice the climbing was, and how I hadn't realized what I was missing by not doing these easy classics much any more. I couldn't remember the last time I considered doing a 5.4 like Sixish. There are so many of them in the Gunks; it is so easy to take them for granted. How many climbing areas have such high-quality super-moderates like this? In most places a 5.4 would be an unpleasant thrash up a gully. But in the Gunks you get clean climbing up steep rock with great holds and pro. What more can you ask for?





(Photo: At the end of the traverse on the 5.4 pitch three of Sixish)



When we reached the GT Ledge I found the scene unchanged from 2006. The big, pointy, dead tree stump was still there. I assured Margaret she'd find the perfect foot rail up there above the roof, and she cast off on the lead. While she took care of the lead I looked at the 5.10 b/c variation, which is the original aid route directly out the huge roof. Standing on the ledge it appeared to me there'd be good pro in the crack running out the roof but later I saw Dick gives this variation a PG/R rating. I'm not sure whether he gives it this rating because of the pro through the roof, or because of poor protection for the face climbing below. It looked like it would be fun to try it out if the pro were good. I'd wager it would be easy to rig a toprope from above by climbing Sixish through the traverse and then bulding a gear anchor above the roof, but I would be a little concerned about the swing you'd take if you blew it before making much progress out the roof, or during the face climbing below the roof. You might swing out and hit a tree pretty hard.



Soon enough it was my turn to follow pitch three. The traverse was great, still exciting and exposed even after a little more experience. I was surprised by one aspect of the pitch I didn't remember: the notch at the finish is kind of hard for 5.4! Like pitch one, it is surprisingly pumpy. The holds are there but they aren't quite the jugs I was expecting, and pulling through the notch felt to me a lot like pulling a small roof. It is a fitting finish to a great three pitches of climbing, well worth doing regardless of whether 5.4 is your leading limit.

Alpine Classic

Some might have considered it foolishness to ride the Alpine Classic after 94km the day before in 37 degree (Celsius) heat. Still, the company I'd had on that ride convinced me that I could do it, as I wouldn't be the only one attempting this foolishness. As it was, I had a 6.40am start, in which the temperature was considerably cooler, so things were starting to look up.

It didn't take long for me to raise the temperature just a little. I'd sat back a little from the main group in the early start out of Bright because I didn't want to burn myself out early, but I found form on the first climb of Tawonga Gap, and decided to just go with it and see what happened. That pass was pushed aside easily, and I started to feel confident about the ride.

After that descent, the next act was the long climb to Falls Creek. It was basically a 30km climb with a few false flats and false descents thrown in to mix things up a little. After about 700 metres, however, it became a long grind with a steep pinch toward the summit. The scenery here is stunning at times, and I was torn between getting on with the climb or taking a heap of pictures. I probably compromised those two aims somewhat, but still pushed on toward the summit soon enough to feel as though completing this ride would pose little difficulty.

On the way to Falls Creek I'd actually passed over a food stop, figuring I'd make the one at the summit of the climb and save some time. I'm still wondering whether I ended up paying for that decision later on, because after descending Falls Creek, the temperature rose above 30 degrees C for the first time that day, and I started burning energy a little faster than I would have liked. On the descent I also spotted another rider being treated by an ambulance after what appeared to be a crash into a metal barrier. I took noticeably fewer risks after that.


The second climb over Tawonga Gap started promisingly enough, but soon turned into a long, slow, drawn-out climb. I could sense the heat was starting to pose problems, so I just worked on technique and not extending myself too much as I headed for the summit. This would be a sign of things to come later on. As it was, I struggled over the Tawonga summit, before a lightning descent. I had actually ridden this descent on a tour three years earlier, so I felt comfortable enough to take a few liberties here.

Returning to Bright provided the first sight of the locals by the side of the road, sitting in whatever shade they could find, cheering the riders on. Negotiating the way to the lunch stop was a little more confusing. There was an option here to call it a day and simply leave the distance at 130km and not worry about the climb of Mt Buffalo, but I figured that I had time in the bank, and wouldn't have to much trouble grinding out the last 70km.

I was cheered on by more of the locals as I started the long ascent of Mt Buffalo. There would be 20km of this, and it would take a long time. I kept track of things on my altimeter, and decided to pause half way up the mountain to for a muesli bar before going on and finishing the climb. The pause took a little longer than I'd anticipated as the heat had totally destroyed my appetite for virtually anything.

10 more long kilometres of steady climbing saw me eventually reach the summit. I made a point of raising a fist into the air when I got there, more to provide motivation than to celebrate anything. By this stage my legs had severely cramped, so I was reduced to walking around while I ate to try to loosen then a little. It didn't even register with me that the ride was virtually complete, and all I had in front of me was a 20km descent followed by a rolling final 10km with a tailwind into Bright.

Sometime on the descent my appetite came back with a vengeance, a bit late for that now. I descended quickly, not so much to make up time, but just to try to keep my legs moving. Once the descent was over, it finally dawned on me that I was likely to finish this with an hour to spare. Not even a flat tyre now could stop me (that's something I need to factor into most rides). Even my old enemy, the heat, had been vanquished on this ride.

The sight of the old couple sitting under the tree next to their esky cheering accompanied me into Bright, and the finish. Now I was just riding on instinct, almost totally spent, but somehow adrenalised, knowing it was over. This ride had stopped being "fun" 100km ago, now "survival" was no longer appropriate. The post ride dinner had already started -- even if the last of the riders were still to finish. I probably wasn't at my conversational best that evening -- and spent most of the time trying to drink enough water to sink a battleship.
For all the challenges it posed, however, the ride was a memorable one. The scenery was magnificent, and the support from the volunteers, the other riders and the locals was something to savour. I may even consider returning next year -- assuming the calendar is kind enough to give me another long weekend to play with.