Ponds at night and a Leander RR

Over the hot, hot weekend we saw 25 of the 28 ponds on the Austin Pond Society Tour – if you drove fast and were efficient you might make them all, but for those of us who get into conversations, two days is too short! We took just a few photos - you’ll have to wait for more from the Austin Pond Society website.
Two of the locations were in Westlake, open on Saturday evening. Both featured impressive, beautiful ponds, streams and gardens, softly lit with lanterns. One even had violins sending classical music over the terraces. Many people loved the romantic ambience of the ponds at night, but it didn’t quite work for me. Climbing stone steps and feeling with one’s foot for an unknown path was rather awkward in the dark. For a plant person, it was very frustrating to see vague shapes and shadows of the leaves, and to not see the colors or flowers. But you did get an idea of how cool the parties must be at those homes!
These photos were taken in Leander, northwest of Austin, where the pond owner told me that a base for a miniature railroad track had come with the house, buried under the soil in a hilled-up area. Previous owners started it but never got very far. When the new owners recently built their pond, they decided to use the base and work the railroad into the design. This imaginative garden is still in progress – a viewing platform was built just the day before the tour folk arrived- soon the owners will use bonsai trees to complete the landscape and give a sense of proportion to the layout.
For the plant person there were huge stands of Pride of Barbados in the garden area, and the ponds were lovely, with waterlilies in bloom. In addition to the cute factor, there’s a historical factor: this miniature train is a replica of the one that once carried marble to Austin, to build the State Capitol.

Vietnam Veteran's Day

"Welcome Home" brothers and sisters.

Springing back

Last weekend was designated as a change of pace. The change was a little more dramatic than I would have liked after picking up a head cold on Sunday, which forced the cancellation of the planned full-moon ride to Binna Burra. Saturday still provided the opportunity to escape to Springbrook for the day. I have a special relationship with that mountain, but on this day I was organising a bushwalk for my local group as an 'alternative' to the Lennox Head weekend that I couldn't make.


As it was, there were only three of us able to make it after some late cancellations, but it was a memorable day nonetheless. The intention was to walk the Twin Falls circuit before lunch, followed by a trip to Purlingbrook Falls, and Warringa Pool. The storms of earlier in the week didn't bring as much rain as hoped, but there was still some water around, and the drier conditions kept the leeches away.


The Twin Falls walk was beautiful as always, but the real interest came 175 metres down the mountain at Purlingbrook Falls. The descent to the base of the falls was lovely as always, but today I was going to be walking out to Warringa Pool for the first time ever. That ultimately passed through some of the prettiest rainforest I've seen in the area, or anywhere else for that matter.



One of the people on this walk had some information about some other walks to explore at the western end of Tallebudgera Valley, which are evidently more interesting than I had anticipated. Apparently the "private property" sign at Mt Cougal Road may not be as "private" as first thought, but I'll give that further consideration later. The day finished with afternoon tea at the Fudge shop, watching the clouds roll in, in preparation for another downpour presumably. It didn't rain on me, but there was a good soaking later that evening apparently.



Another memorable day. Now I just need to shake of this head cold in time for Martin and I to go in search of the real Mt Jerusalem this weekend. More on that later.

The midnight century

The other thing that happened on Friday evening (or perhaps Saturday morning) was the midnight century at Ipswich. Actually, I almost didn't make it -- I was worried that Friday evening's downpour would flood out the train from Nerang, but that didn't happen, so I was on my way. I would have liked an hour or two to sleep before the ride, but time constraints put paid to that as well.

The ride itself got underway at a pretty frantic pace -- largely due to the high proportion of 30-40km riders who wanted to ride a century at that same pace. A couple of minor climbs in the Grantham/Laidley/Forest Hill areas put paid to that situation. Actually, I came into my own a little in that stretch. I'd been struggling with the pace early and even thought about dropping back before Rosewood, but once we hit the hills I started to feel better. By the first checkpoint at Forest Hill I'd somehow become ensconced in the really fast group, probably not ideal considering I was doing this thing on a Hybrid.

It was an interesting exercise in trying to hold the pace, but the group was surprisingly patient anytime someone felt the need to slow for a couple of minutes or so, and it was an absolutely beautiful night to be out. I really need to do more rides at that time of night, and build up some conditioning for riding at that time. 2-4am seems to be the hardest, as it's right at the bottom of the sleep cycle. That said, we just wound our way through localities like Coominya and Lowood, eventually on to Fernvale for the second checkpoint.

By now the sun was coming up, and my legs were really complaining. After the feed here, I basically abandoned my plans to stay with the really fast group and just set off at my own pace. With the sun now rising, I started looking for pictures to take from the ride, just a souvenir of the experience.



Perhaps surprisingly, I actually caught a couple of riders from the really fast group, who had also decided to ease off the pace a bit after 125km. We actually ended up riding together just for the sake of it. We basically regrouped in Marburg just to check the route, and one or two other things. Between here and Rosewood was the most beautiful part of the entire ride, the climb of the Marburg Range. The views here are surprisingly good -- surprising because the summit is still less than 200 metres above sea level.





After passing through Rosewood (again), it was now just a route-finding challenge. The one downside of this ride was spending the final 10km winding through the suburbs of Ipswich to get the distance, personally I would have preferred to have spent that 10km winding through somewhere else. On the other hand, this last 10km was hilly enough to put the ride over 1,000 metres of climbing, so perhaps it's not worth complaining.

The three of us found our way back to Queens Park, where there was already a barbecue on for the finishers. I was actually a little surprised that the kiosk next door wasn't open -- I would have thought they might have done some trade on a Sunday morning at that time, but then, it was Ipswich. The finish actually seemed a little low-key, but that's probably a good thing, and to be expected with people who have been up cycling all night. All in all, however, it was a thoroughly enjoyable ride, and I'll certainly be back for it in 2006.

Hopefully it's on the Saturday night this time -- I still harbour an idea of riding to the start of the ride, just for the challenge. Turning it into a 300km ride would be very, very interesting.

I say Cataba, you say Catalpa

Sometimes things are just different here in the south.
It wasn't until I was 18 and had a roommate from New Jersey, that I realized that only southerners use the term fixing to. At least in the sense that means "about to".
Similarly, our Cataba (cuh tah buh) tree is a Catalpa tree to everyone else.

To be precise: the Southern Catalpa (Catalpa bignonioides).
The caterpillar of the Catalpa sphinx moth (Ceratomia catalpae) feeds on catalpa leaves, sometimes defoliating entire trees. But it's also "treated with mystical reverence and respect by southern anglers," since according to most grandfathers it's the bait of choice for catfish and bream.
Bream is of course pronounced "brim". Around here, anyway.
This site has it wrong though, I think, when it comes to the explanation of why we pronounce it Cataba or Catawba.

In another display of regional pride and colloquialism, many fishermen in North and South Carolina use the names "Catawba worm" and "Catawba tree"-- misnomers that arose because the Catawba River flows through both states.

It's not just Carolinans. My grandfather in Georgia said Cataba, and Alabamians do too. Maybe Carolinians add more of a "w" sound though, I'm not sure.
There is also a Northern catalpa (Catalpa speciosa), which is very similar, apparently to the point that some botanists think the two species should be lumped together.
Another somewhat similar species is the non-native Royal Palownia (Palownia tomentosa) (a.k.a. Empress tree or Princess tree), which has purple blooms.
Oh, and one more thing. To many southerners, there is scarcely a thing more irritating on earth than a fake southern accent. If any actors read this, I beg you - I implore you! - to never try imitating a southern accent. Please. I almost had to walk out of the theater during the previews of Cold Mountain. Unless you're Holly Hunter or Beth Grant, I don't want to hear it.

Is My Name Fred?

Long before I moved from Illinois/Zone 5 to Austin/Zone 8B, authors like Elizabeth Lawrence, Henry Mitchell and Stephen Lacey/The Startling Jungle fed my zone-envy by talking about Crinum and Amarcrinum lilies. Now I have some!

Above is the crinum that’s in bloom now, showing its colors, lovely and even fragrant, but I sure didn’t pay one hundred dollars for it, as Pam/Digging has read. I found the Plant Delights receipt from February .., for one bulb of Amarcrinum x ‘Fred Howard’ at $12. A journal notation mentions that in Fall 1999, I bought a potted bulb from the Austin Men’s Garden Club. The cost was $5; the donor wasn’t sure of the name, but wrote “Jersey Lily” on the pot.
Both bulbs grew and were repotted several times before we moved here. In October .., I was amazed to realize that the two original bulbs had become eight, but they were mixed up when they were planted in a holding bed. In Spring .., the 8 bulbs found permanent homes in 4 locations, varied as to sun/shade and moisture, so I could see what worked best.

For comparison, here’s a photo of Amarcrinum x ‘Fred Howard’ at Plant Delights. My flower looks just like their ‘Fred Howard’, don’t you think?

In June, another of the bulbs, planted in a hotter & sunnier space, bloomed with Evolvolus ‘Blue Daze’ around it.

This one looks like a ‘Fred Howard’, too. So my investment has doubled already!
What about the other six? Was “Jersey Lily” a possibility? A search for ‘Jersey Lily’ pulled up many sites on Lillie Langtry, the beautiful actress and mistress of King Edward VII, named for the flower growing on her home Isle of Jersey. [Did anyone else watch Francesca Annis as ”Lillie” in the old Masterpiece Theater Series?]

Google found a few botanical choices for Jersey Lily, including Nerine bowdenii, and Nerine sarniensis. In photos these Nerines seem fluffier, with long stamens hovering above pink flower petals splayed outward. Hortus Third says Nerines are tender below Zone 9, with “lvs. strap-shaped, basal, usually absent at flowering time”, and both species are described as rose-red. Other authorities insisted that Jersey Lily is Amaryllis belladonna, a kind of Naked Lady, with reddish stems and leaves that disappear in April.

The disappearing, strap-shaped leaves seem to rule out both Nerines and the Amaryllis belladonna. I may have mixed up the bulbs when they were separated and replanted, but every one of the eight bulbs produces semi-evergreen leaves. The foliage never disappears, although some of it turns brown if the temperature dips below 20º F, then regrows when the freeze is over.

So I’ll wait and see if the six remaining bulbs ever bloom. A couple may also be ‘Freds’, but the others? My guess is that the guy from the Austin Men’s Garden Club was growing some kind of Crinum without knowing what he had; I hope it is another variety of these lovely flowers.

Not Focused on Obedience... Preoccupied with this Picture...

It's hard to concentrate on my broad jump when I'm thinking about Independence Lake (above). We're finally almost ready for our camping trip that will start next Tuesday and end on August 30.
Barbara's started a new Broad Jump routine for me by adding a little jump after the B(ored) jump (heehee!). To encourage me to do more than plod over the thing and return to Ma after I jump it, Barbara put up a small jump to force a fast hop over the first part! It worked, darn it! I still have to go to obedience next Monday and then I'm off for two whole weeks woo hoo! Avalon also has started obedience and shows great promise - well... she high steps like an Arabian horse - it's unbelievable! But I'm the bigger sisfur and win all the important rounds heheheee! Care to spar with me to find out? Have a good week and weekend too! Loves you all!