Pickleball and Line Dancing

It is very rare for us to not do quite a bit of sight seeing, but this past few weeks it has been so cold we have not even wanted to do that. I am beginning to get a bit stir crazy from it but there has been a nice upside. It has given me more time to spend getting to know our fellow pickle ball players. I have really enjoyed that!



After pickleball, I came back to the RV just long enough to take a shower and start some laundry. Then it was back to Torrey Oaks for line dancing. This was my first try at line dancing and I had a blast. It was much more fun than I even expected it to be. It was really nice to have time with other women. I have really missed having another female around since Auburn has moved out, so it is nice for me when I can hang out with other women. Donna, Sherry, Tracy and her daughter and I went. Faye and Sally were already there since they are at Torrey Oakes and there were other Torey Oakes members there.



Thank you, Donna, for sending me your pictures! I did not take any at either event, so I'd have been pictureless without you.





Living the life in way too cold Florida!

Lara-Karena Kellogg (Bitenieks)

Lara-Karena Kellogg (formerly Lara-Karena Bitenieks) died Monday evening while climbing Mt. Wake in the Alaska Range. Some of you may have known Lara from her years as a climbing ranger and member of our Mt. Rainier search and rescue team. But when it came to friends and social networks, Lara was indeed a power-broker in Seattle. Her loss is greatly affecting many people. Her friends are coming together to sort through the sadness and remember her life.

The NPS released Lara's name after her husband, Chad Kellogg, was notified in China where he was climbing (he is now returning to Seattle). There is a lot more to say about Lara. She was a very close friend and influential force in the way the Mount Rainier climbing program runs today. Lara possessed an amazing amount of style, confidence, independence, and strength.

The Fairbanks Daily Newsminer spoke with her climbing partner Jed Brown for details of the accident, Jed has a detailed narrative about the climb and accident on his website. They were climbing the N.E. Ridge of Mt. Wake. The green dot indicates the high point and the red dot is where the accident occurred. This route has some history. In 1994, two Alaskan climbers fell at nearly the same location during a rappelling accident. We will post a lot more on Lara in the days to come.

Jed Brown provided this picture of Lara from their climb. The Mt. Wake photo was taken by Eamonn Walsh and provided to us by Mark Westman.

On the Road in Stormy Weather

The clouds gathered darkly as Francesco and I set off on our fateful voyage. Braving the wind in my long tights, jacket, gloves and hat, I could not believe that in the third week of May the weather was identical to what it had beenin November. No sooner had the flowers finally bloomed, than their petals were assaulted by harsh winds and pelting rains. Now they lay scattered all over the roads - a pink and lilac watery mush for everyone to trample.



"How fitting," said Francesco, "that it is on such a day you are taking me away to be left with strangers. For the dark skies reflect the darkness that will reign in my heart."



Oh Francesco! So melodramatic. In fact, we were on our way to the Ride Studio Cafe, who are loaning me a roadbike for the formidable paceline rides. Since the RSCis nearly 10 miles away and I can only get there by bike, it was agreed that I would arrive on Francesco and then swap him for the loaner bike. It will only be for a few weeks. And as soon as we arrived it was clear that my Moser was in good company: A pastelPinarello beauty made eyes at him from across the storage room, whispering "Buena Sera" in a sultry voice. He forgot about me immediately, and with a light heart I began my journey home on a sleek titanium machine.



But my sense of relief was short-lived. The skies opened up within minutes of my departure and rain began to pour with a violence that even the forecast had not predicted.



Soon my 23mm tires were cutting through lake-sized puddles and skipping over slippery tree-roots that protruded from the cracked asphalt, as water came down in buckets from the ever-darkening skies. I could not see where I was going, and it was only thanks to the miracle of the homing instinct - aided perhaps by the bicycle's admirable handling - that I got back intact.



When I finally dismounted the bike, the sight that awaited me was gruesome. Every inch of the formerly pristine machine was now covered with sand, dirt, pine needles, and all manner of road filth. Even the minuscule saddlebag they took the trouble to assemble for me was now a soggy, grime-covered mess. Then I took a look in the mirror, and realised that the same could be said of me! Forget "skunk tail" - My entire back, my legs, and also parts of my face were covered with what I hope is just wet sand, but looked far more disgusting. Is this what normally happens without fenders? It is far more dramatic than what I'd imagined!



The rest of the evening was spent showering, loading the washing machine, and scooping bits of plantlife (please don't let it be anything more gross than that!) from under the brake calipers and off the brake pads. Later, the Co-Habitant came home and thoroughly examined my loaner steed... upon which he discovered a substantial gash in the front tire. Seriously? Argh! But I guess I should be glad - otherwise it could have failed during a paceline ride, which is one of my biggest fears. So I think I will be putting some tires with puncture protection on this bike. ContinentalGatorSkins might be a tad slower than the Michelin ProRace3s currently on it, but the gash in the rubber is enough to persuade me it's worth it. What is your favourite "fast" road tire with puncture protection?



The forecast promises pretty much constant rain and autumnal temperatures for the entire week, and the gloomy weather is really becoming difficult to take. I will probably be going roadcycling in the rain again, simply because otherwise I will never get back into a regular practice of riding. At least next time I will know what to expect.

Working Guy 1940s

Serene

A look back on a summer reveals the scenic beauty that can be found just outside San Francisco.

Sharing the couch

A recent photo of my cat, Kasie, and dog, Codee, sharing the couch one evening.

Raindrop

I took this photo after our rain last Friday morning. You can see some of the other tree branchs in the raindrop

Forbidden ..

Part III
"More To Go"

It was already lighter when we arrived at the notch. We watched headlamps from a party at the lower basin camp start up to Sahale or Sharkfin. (We never did see where they went.) We wondered if they had noticed our lights on the ridge and what they thought was going on.

Then Steve set about making himself comfortable and took a snooze. I was too uncomfortable to sleep at first and after jostling about in different positions finally took a nap. Steve said I even snored. I awoke a half hour later.

Nap time (photo by Steve Machuga)

Then we watched the sky turn beautiful colors as the sun rose. I ate a bag of dried fruit and nuts and Steve had a few granola bars. We weren't quite ready to get moving, so we lounged until the sun hit a feature we were calling "The Scottish Arete."

Having gotten some rest, we headed out slowly and methodically back down to camp. In our tired condition, we knew there would be a few cruxes on the way to camp. The first was getting around the chock stone at the top of the gully. This proved to be no issue and we were now making our way down the slabs and loose rock. We reached the bottom of the gully and got on the snow. Steve felt comfortable with a standing glissade. I put crampons on and walked quickly down the snow. (I just wasn't feeling confident in the boots I had chosen.)

We got back onto rock in the lower gully and navigated our way down to the next crux. On the way up we made an uncomfortable step onto the slab from a snow lip on the lower snowfield. I was sure there was no way to make this step after the previous day's melting. That would mean we would have a choice of climbing down either of two short waterfalls. When we arrived, Steve probed it out and made a step onto a lower portion of the final slab before making the big step out onto the snow. It didn't look that safe to me so I hesitated before finally making a large gentle step onto the snow. We crossed that short bit of snow and then gained the slabs again before jumping back onto snow down to camp.

Once in camp we quickly went about filtering water to drink. It was nice and cold snow melt and I drank enough to give me brain freeze. We lounged again at the stream dipping our feet in the water and dreading the coming hike out. After a while we made our way back to the tent to pack up and head out.

The flies were horrible at the tent and it made packing difficult. In my already weakened mental state the flies were the final straw. I was running about trying to kill any that came near me. It was an ordeal. We packed as quickly as possible and hoped that once we left the camp area we would be rid of the pesky insects.

Our hope faded as we had to negotiate a grassy moraine littered with Marmot dens and scat. The flies were even worse. There were brief moments hiking down the basin where there was a faint wind or even cooler temps and seemingly no flies. Then we would encounter another area, like the lower stream crossings and be swarmed again.

Once through the stream crossings we made it to the woods and through the avalanche debris fields. Constantly in and out of swarms of flies. At one point during the heaviest bushwhack area of the trail the flies were so thick I looked like Pig Pen from Peanuts with the swarm around me. Steve said he could see dozens landing all over his clothes. When we escaped that area, I told Steve I was close to a nervous breakdown. He said that me running down the trail screaming "Cannot stop! Must keep moving!" was a sign of a partial breakdown. I agreed and knew that the worst was behind us.

About 20 minutes later we were back at the car. We found a note from the rangers on the windshield stating "Steve and Gilbert: Your party has been reported passed due. Please check into the ranger station when you receive this note. A search party is being sent." We packed the car quickly and drank some more water before heading out.

The drive on Cascade River Road always seems longer than it should be. I understand that it is a 23 mile mostly dirt road with a 35mph speed limit, but it just seems to go on forever. Once out, we made right for the ranger station and reported in. We were told someone was just sent out to look for us and we presumed it was the ranger truck heading up the road as we came out. After leaving the ranger station we called our contacts to let them know we were alright. Apparently the rangers had gotten to that first in some cases. Then it was time for the long drive home.

This was another exciting experience in the mountains and was a good learning experience.

I think both Steve and I learned some lessons this weekend:

One of which is that the two of us actually get tired. (Which may be hard for others to believe.) I think if we had not done South Early Winter Spire on Saturday, the Forbidden trip would have played out completely different. We would have been fresh and moving faster without all the lethargic delays. I cannot say for sure this would have kept us on route during the climbing, but it probably would of had us moving faster on route, as well as the approach. It may also have made us more at ease with the rock quality and exposure.

Another lesson has to do with emergency contacts and when to call in a passed due. This was partially a flub because we had changed our plans a few times, so it wasn't exactly set in stone when we left Edmonds. That caused the timing to be off, and created a panic regarding our return time. In retrospect, it appears that Steve and I may not have even been on the same page regarding when authorities should be contacted. While Steve and I had no idea that a rescue was initiated, this incident has made me strongly consider the use of a Spot.

A funny thing about the "rescue" was that when we arrived at the ranger station the ranger behind the desk said they could have initiated the search earlier if we had used the climbing register. (We had neglected to, probably due to our fluid plans.) I thought at the time this was funny as I didn't even think the rescue needed to be initiated at all and that starting it earlier was a waste of time and resources.

The route itself was interesting. I don't know if I'd recommend it, as I was not a big fan of the rock quality. (Well, at least the quality of the protection.) It is also the sort of route people seek for the exposure, which is not a reason I usually seek out routes. There were only a few memorable climbing segments on the route, so it is also not a route to seek out if you want to get into some climbing. However, the setting is hard to beat with numerous 8000' peaks nearby and many small and a few large glaciers tucked here and there. I'd have to admit to loving downclimbing the ridge in the dark as well. It is truly spectacular to be on a beautiful mountain like Forbidden and watch the sun set, the stars rise, and eventually give way to the sun again. It was something we obviously didn't plan to do, but the trip was enriched because of it. It was a wonderful experience that I shall never forget.

I think I learned a few things about my ability to stay alert and focused after being up all of the night. (Partial thanks to Powerbar Gel with Caffeine.) I'll probably always look back on this trip fondly even though the result was not what Steve and I were looking for.

And Steve and I still have not done the West Ridge, so perhaps we'll have to go back for that and see if it lives up to the popularity.

Once again, pics are here.

I Like Turtles

We have had so many turtles at the campground this year. I'm not sure what that is about, but it's been fun watching them move around and share living space with us.

Tonight, as I was cropping pictures, I came across some shots that Nathan took of some turtles. Which made me think of Austin. For two reasons. The first being that he is in Virginia with Daryl and Diana for a visit. He is my baby and the only child I have left living in our household, so I wasn't fond of him going away. Lauren just had surgery though, so I thought it would be a kind thing if he went to keep his cousin who is in a cast company.



Before he left, I told him not to ask me if he could stay there for anything longer than a two or three week long visit. Because it rips my heart out to even think of giving up any of the little bit of time I have left with him up. I said it clear terms that if he called and asked me, I'd be tempted to bring home sooner rather than later. And then I said, I mean it. So he'd know of course that I really did mean it. I wasn't just tossing out empty, meaningless threats.



So today, he called Nathan to tell him he wanted to stay longer and why. Ok, so he didn't call me which is what I had so clearly laid out. What he did do was to try and go around Mom though. Because he knows Dad isn't quite as sad about the last one leaving home as Mom. Dad would probably be ok with him staying longer.



So Dad tells me, just to let you know...this is what Austin called about. At which point I got angry and sad all at the same time. Since I cry when I'm angry and I cry when I'm sad, I just took care of both at once and cried twice as hard.



The main reason the turtle picture is making me think of Austin though is because a few years ago he fell in love with a video where a young kid is being interviewed by a reporter and he randomly says, I like turtles. Austin played this video over and over and over and over and over again. I think he even made it his voice mail message on his phone. It didn't hurt any that he likes turtles himself.



Somehow the two things are related, but I'm not sure why because I'm crying again over missing my youngest boy. Oh yeah, they are related because I can't look at turtles now without Austin's voice running through my head and I can't see turtles without thinking of Austin. So this picture made me think of Austin. And now I'm missing him.



So in honor of the turtle loving guy I thought I'd send him this message:



Dear Austin,



Mom just wants you to know I miss you so much already. And don't call Dad again about trying to stay longer or Mom will have to come up and bring you home the next day.



Much Love,

Mom

Christmas Cookies

The topic for the December 8th installment of the Advent Calendar of Christmas Memories hosted by Thomas MacEntee is: "Christmas Cookies. Did your family make Christmas Cookies? How did you help? Did you have a favorite cookie?"

My Mother and I have been making cookies together for at least the last 20 or so years. Snickerdoodles, Oatmeal Raisin, Gingerbread Men (and Women), frosted Sugar Cookies of various shapes sprinkled with colored sugar, and others too.





Mom made cookies for Christmas and at other times of the year when I was growing up but not for gift giving and not to the extent that we have been doing these past 20 years. After Thanksgiving we buy all of the ingredients we'll need and then the first full weekend of December we start mixing and baking. I've never counted up how many dozens we make, but depending upon the type of cookie, each batch makes between 3 and 4 dozen cookies. We usually made four batches of Snickerdoodles, Oatmeal, and Sugar Cookies but only two batches of Gingerbread cookies and a batch or two of several other varieties. The past two years we've reduced the number of batches by about half, but it is still a lot of work. And it is still fun. I wonder what would happen if we didn't make them?

After the cookies are baked and cooled, they get stored in sealed containers in the garage (where it is cool) until we are ready to package them, usually the following weekend. Our big family Christmas dinner is normally a week or so before Christmas so they don't need to be frozen for long-term storage. Mom mixed up a batch of Snickerdoodles today. Since her oven isn't working right, I'll be baking them tomorrow as well as mixing and baking a couple batches of oatmeal raisin cookies and a batch of Gingerbread cookies. Probably won't make the Sugar Cookies this year though - I really never did like having to roll out the dough, mess with cookie cutters, and then decorating them. Ours sure never looked like the ones shown above! My favorite cookies are the Oatmeal Raisin and the Gingerbread.

A couple of recipes I found online are quite similar to the recipes that we use. The recipe for Oatmeal Raisin cookies comes straight from the Quaker Oats box! When searching for these recipes, I found it amusing that the Sunmaid website called them Raisin-Oatmeal cookies. The pictures used above came from the sites below.

• Snickerdoodles
• Sugar Cookies
• Gingerbread Cookies
• Oatmeal Raisin Cookies

Lobstah Gettah?

This spectacular bicycle was parked next to a beach entrance at the National Seashore on Cape Cod. The frame is ancient, but clearly the bicycle is very much functional. The red Raleigh grips look like a comparatively recent addition, but all else seems original - including tires and saddle!

Rear wheel. Note the chainring and guard on the other side. The bolt-on on the stay indicates that it is coaster brake.

Front wheel - note the original parking stand.

The blue plaque between the tubes says "Donut Shop".

The lobster pot is shiny and new. The lid is secured with pink bungee cords, but I wonder how the pot itself is secured to the front rack without the need to make holes in the metal? The owner of this masterpiece was not in sight, or I would have loved to ask. This is one of my most exciting bicycle sightings ever!

Pike Run Dry Tooling

The small outcrops at Pike Run work great for dry tooling

East coast ice climbing has had another dismal week. Above average temperatures and rain are preventing the ice climbing season from getting underway. Locally we've had 40 degree rainy days with evening temps hovering around freezing. Yesterday Laura and I had some time to get out climbing and didn't want the lack of ice this season ruin our motivation. With possible rain in the forecast, we decided to hit a small local spot for some dry tooling. We decided to head over to Pike Run for some dry tool investigation. Pike Run is predominantly a bouldering area with a few 25' outcrops that offer a little top roped climbing. I installed a few bolt anchors on top of the outcrops in 2000 to help lessen the impact of anchoring off the small trees at the top. For those that don't know, I used to own a climbing shop and guide service located about 5 minutes down the road in Donegal. Pike Run offered folks a place to climb very close to my shop. Much to my surprise Pike Run is still being used on a regular basis.

Tim checking out the Citronella Cave V4 to V6

Laura getting ready to give it a go...

Laura on our 3rd climb

Enjoying the new opportunities

The approach trail has had some impressive work done to it. Someone also went as far as to build landings at the bottom of the Tower outcrop at the descent trail. My hat is off to those ambitious folks that took the effort to help maintain this local climbing resource. The rock at Pike Run is sandstone. Its coarse, not nearly as compact and solid as the sandstone located in most places on Chestnut Ridge. The outcrops at Pike Run offer some great dry tool options. Laura and I had a great time exploring and trying out some lines. We climbed 3 lines overall taking laps on each several times. The moves varied from easier M3/4 to M8 with the climbing being somewhat technical and not as straight forward as it looks from the ground. Rounded and sloping are the norm with a few usable cracks here and there. It was nice to revisit and take a serious thrashing at an area I haven't climbed in a few years. I'm sure we'll be back to pump ourselves silly soon enough.

Laura practicing climbing in ice boots without tools

On a non climbing note:

On the way home from Pike Run we were pleasantly surprised to see a pair of Northern Goshawks near Acme Dam on county line road. One was actively hunting and perching while the other perched the whole time far off on a field edged by forest. It will be interesting to see if they are herewintering or passing through to other territory. Goshawks are our largest accipiter and are irregular visitors to our region. They live in the colder, northern climates of Canada during summer and migrate south for the winter. The Goshawk is related to our summer resident Sharp-Shinned and Coopers hawks. Here's a photo we shot of one perched on a dead snag.

Northern Goshawk Accipiter gentilis

near Acme Dam, Dec. 16,

The Bear Run trail run challenge

The welcome sign behind the barn - maps located here

I've lived in Southwestern PA all my life, but have yet to explore the trails of Bear Run Nature Reservein Mill Run. Its located on Route 381 between Normalville and Ohiopyle. I've had no particular reason for not going, I guess there were always other places being explored. Several climbing buddies even told me of some climbing that exists here. I always thought of checking it out as I sped by on the way to one of the normal destinations, but never did. This past spring Laura and I stopped and walked a short section of the trails while birding. I must say the birding was good, Hemlocks amazing, and the forested trails very inviting.





Yesterday I had to work in the morning but my afternoon was free. I wanted to go run and started discussing options with Laura. She brought up the idea of trying Bear Run. At Bear Run none of the individual trails are over 3 miles, but together they add up to about 20 interconnected miles. For the backpackers out there, they also offer a few campsites for overnight trips. Registration is easy right at the parking lot behind the barn. It was time to map an interesting route. I read a little about the trails online while Laura started getting out maps and books with additional information. After studying the options for a while, I settled on running the perimeter of the whole trail system. This run would end up being about 11.5 +/- miles and a great distance for some higher speed running. It looked easy to follow on paper, at each intersection, turn right. I'm not sure about other areas, but locally some trails are blazed and work well most of the year, but summer months can bring on thick vegetation which blocks the view of blazes and chokes out "established" trails turning them into navigational nonsense. I was hoping this wasn't the case at such a popular area.I pulled into Bear Run and parked in the lot at the trail head (TH) behind the main barn building. There are paper maps available right at the parking lot to help guide you on this journey if you feel like giving it a whirl. Being somewhat unfamiliar with the trails, I picked up two just in case one got ruined or lost. I really didn't feel like stumbling out at midnight on a short distance, training run. Especially since I was starting later in the day. The trails are mostly marked with upright posts at the intersections. They display the trail name and direction of travel arrows to make things easier...

Starting point of route, Registration Board at the trail head

Here's the route: Clock starts at the registration board - (TH) kiosk. Start on Arbutus, turning right onto Wintergreen, follow Wintergreen about a mile to the intersection with Warbler. At the end of Warbler, turn right onto Hemlock (a little chin scratching, blaze hunting was done several times on this one), follow Hemlock to a confusing downhill intersection at the campsite. (Hint) From the campsite basically make a quick switchback right onto the logging road (Bear Run trail.) Its blazed red/maroon, although you'll have to travel several hundred yards to find one. Many are hidden behind new growth along this section. Just after the turn you'll encounter some awesome boulders right on the trail (hint, hint to any climbing friends still reading).Follow the (I'm guessing seldom used?) Bear Run trail to the intersection with Tulip Tree trail (freshly blazed red), but unmarked I believe. Turn right and follow this incredible, rocky, freshly revamped trail to the intersection of Laurel Run trail. Follow Laurel Run trail all the way to a crossing at route 381. Cross the hardtop road and continue on Laurel Run to Peninsula trail. This intersection is tricky so pay attention or you'll add an out and back hill climb to your run too. Near the end of Peninsula trail, you'll come to Paradise Overlook (a rock outcropping that offers a view of the Youghiogheny River below. From there follow the trail uphill to a gravel road. Turn left onto the gravel road(Tissue trail)and follow it back to route 381. The entrance to Bear Run (the starting point) is across the road. Finish the run at the same sign where you began.

Paradise Overlook

My first try at this run was 1:47:21. I was off trail several times, referenced my map too much, stopped for a couple photos, yet ran my ass off to set a benchmark for myself and others. My experience was top notch and I highly recommend it to trail runners looking for new places to venture. Seemed like hard work despite its shorter distance. Route finding proved to be a little more difficult than I expected. Now knowing the route I look forward to trying this one again. There's some long moderate hills, short steep hills, high speed technical rocks on (my favorite part) Tulip Tree trail. Thick sections, Stinging Nettles, even an oozing deer carcass that currently requires a surprise long jump! All kinds of trail goodies. I really enjoyed the many types of forest , wildlife and vegetation that you encounter on this run. As I ran I identified birds by call to pass the time. I heard Black-throated Blue warbler, Black-Throated Green warbler, Wood Thrush, Veery, Rose Breasted Grosbeak, Scarlet Tanager, American Robin, Indigo Bunting, Field Sparrow, Eastern Wood Pewee, and Red-bellied woodpecker. Others were present I'm sure, these are what I remembered.




If you happen to try this one, please share your experience. I'm sure someone can run this much faster (I'm surely going to try). I hope to get other runners motivated to come give it their all. How fast can this be done? A friendly challenge if you will... Come try it, you won't be sorry! (printable trail map)

Life Goes On

(Photo: X-Ray showing my broken ankle. Diagnosis: fracture- ankle, medial malleolus, closed.)

One year ago today, I broke my ankle rock climbing.

In part, I started this little blog in order to force myself to write about it. But I've been struggling with what to say about it for a year now, and I'm afraid that struggle isn't over.

My accidenthappened on a Gunks climb called Insuhlation (5.9). I fell justafter the final crux roof. I pulled over the roof with no problems, but there was a wet hold above the roof that I suppose I failed to use well. Or maybe my foot popped, I'm not sure. Truthfully, I don't know exactly why I fell. I had my right hand on the semi-jug above the wet hold. I was looking around for pro; my last piece was a green Alien a few feet below the roof. And then I was off.

I recall with vivid clarity the sensation of falling. Time suddenly slowed to a crawl, and I saw my half ropesin a parabolic arcabove me as I flew back outward from the rock. It seemed as if I had a good long time in midair to consider that this might not end well. I remember thinking "this is it!" ...but I'm not sure what I had "it" in mind to be. I yelled out "falling," and then things sped up considerably. I flipped upside-down and then the rope came tight on the green Alien, which held, and I came to a stop, hanging in the air with my head where my feet should have been.

As I righted myself, I realized I was injured. I couldn't understand why I'd flipped over. The rope wasn't behind my leg. And I hadn't felt a thing. There was no impact at all that I had sensed. So why was my ankle tender and starting to swell? I asked my partner N to lower me to the ledge. The pair climbing next to us onObstacle Delusion retrieved my gear on rappel and filledus in on what had happened. "You flipped over when your ankle hit the rock," one of them said. So it seemed there was an impact, but in the adrenaline-pumped moment I hadn't felt it. At least itall made sense now, even if the explanation didn't jibe with what my mind had allowed me to experience.

Thinking it was just a sprain, I hobbled the whole way from the High Exposure access trail back to the steel bridge, refusing numerous offers of assistance from concerned strangers. The best and the worst of the Trapps in autumn were on display. People were kind and supportive, but there were far too many of them. At one point I stopped to rest in the Uberfall area and counted over thirty climbers in my immediate field of vision, all of them looking at me in a pitying way that made me very uncomfortable. N thought we shouldsummon the rangers, but I insisted that if I could evacuate myselfwe shouldn't initiate a rescue. I now recognize that this was a stupidmistake. I really don't think it made my ankle any worse, but if I'd listened to N, we would have had the benefit of the advice of first responders, and I would likely have been taken to a hospital for an x-ray right away instead of waiting 24 hoursand only thenfinding out the ankle was broken and required surgery. It also would have put much less pressure on N, who ended up having the sole responsibility of babying me all the way back to Brooklyn.

In the aftermath of the accidentI was overwhelmed with guilty feelings. The source of these feelings was hard to pin down. I felt guilty about inconveniencing my wife.She'd have to pick up the kids every day and do all the cooking for months to come. I also felt guilty that I'd made whatever climbing mistake I must have made to get into this mess. I blamed myself for the accident, although I had a hard time deciding what it was I'd done wrong. I also felt a lot of guilt about imposing my injury on N. I entertained totally unfounded fears that she'd never climb with me again, and that all my other climbing partners might desert me as well.

Amidst all this I wondered if I really was feeling most guilty about climbing in the first place. Was I taking pains to find fault with my climbing on that fateful day because I needed to avoid confronting something harder to deal with? Was my accident really a reminderthat even if you do everything right when you climb, even if you place gear liberally and it holds, you can still get hurt? Was it a sign that I should quit,that climbing is unacceptably dangerous? Certainly a number of people, from my doctor to my mother to my wife's colleagues, assumed that my broken ankle would be thewake-up callI needed to make me come to my senses and stop this climbing nonsense, as any responsible husband and fatherwould.

I did not want to quit. Although I didn't know how I'd feel getting out there on the rock again, I was sure, as I sat around recovering and gaining twenty pounds, that I would missclimbing terribly if I stopped doing it. But I didn't want to be a bad husband and father. I had to ask myself if climbing could be done reasonably, or whetherthe dangers were such that no amount of rock climbingcould be consideredsane.

I read numerous classics of mountaineering literature searching for the answer, to no avail.Many great mountaineers have wrestled with the question of why we are drawn to climbing, and whether the dangers are worth it. Some embracethe risk, declaring danger to beat the verycore of the climbing experience. Othersfocus instead onthe many other wonderful aspects of the sport-- the scenery, the adventure, the physical and mental challenge, theconnectionwith nature-- but throw up their hands at the death toll and ultimately leave the question of whether it is all worthwhile to a higher power.

Of course, these writers are considering a different sport than the one in which I participate. They are writing about climbing real mountains and pushing the very limits of the possible. They choose to face objective hazards that cannot be managed, such as altitude sickness, avalanches, and sudden deadly changes in the weather. And in order toexpand the boundaries of what can be climbed, they deliberately go without reasonable protection on climbs that are incredibly risky,forging ahead on blank, smoothrock facesand through rotten bands of ice. These writers would think nothing of the climbing I do in the Gunks on a two hundred foot cliff that has been fully explored, with every route to the top exhaustively indexed by its difficulty and protection rating. To them the risks taken by a weekend warrior likemehardly qualify as risks at all.

And yet there are risks in any climbing environment, no matter how tame that environment is. In the Gunks, for instance, there have been very few fatalities over the years, but less than fatal accidents occurratherfrequently. Lapses in judgment lead climbers to forget crucial steps in the climbing process. Theyrappel off the ends of their ropes, or drop their partners. Objective hazards exist: rocks fall down. And no matter how much difficulty and protection grades may sanitize a climb, it is still easy to wander off route, to miss a crucial gear placement,or otherwiseto find oneself in territory where a fall could be disastrous. Gear that seems solid may pull out; it is hard even for experienced climbers to dependably judge placements of climbing gear. And finally, as my accident demonstrates, even if the gear is solid you can get hurt in any fall.

It is often pointed out by climbers that many sports carry dangers, and that climbing is actually less dangerous thancommon daily activities like driving a car. This may be true, but we are not forced to choose a dangerous sport in which to participate. We don't have to choose climbing just because it isn't as crazy as BASE jumping. We can shun all sports involving danger if it is the right thing to do. And while driving a car may wellbe more dangerous than climbing, we live in a world in which we can't escape the car. We have no choice about it. Climbing is different. It is a luxury we can well afford to drop.

But I couldn't bear to drop it.After my accident I was desperate to find a rationale for continuing to climb, a way to go forward but feel I was being reasonable and safe about it.

I wish I could tell you that I figured out the answer to this problem. I wish I could say thatI developed a calculus to determine how much danger is acceptable. I wish I could offer you a climbing plan that is 100 percent risk-free, or tell you that I located the perfect spot on the climbing danger continuum at which adventure is maximized but life-threatening hazards are minimized. But obviously I did none of these things.

Instead I decided to wade back into climbingslowly and to take it easy, minimizing risk by minimizing difficulty. Even this simple plan was a difficult one for me to execute, because I like to challenge myself. But aside from a few lapses I mostly stuck with it, avoiding leading harderclimbs all year, being willing to follow other folks' desires and ambitions more than my own, and repeating a bunch of favorite climbs instead of always seeking out new ones.

At first, I found that my accident had wreaked havoc with my lead head. I was tentative on the lead, becoming paralyzed at crux momentsI never would have worried about in the past. On more than one occasion this year I fell or took a hang because I simply couldn't commit to the move atthe crucial moment of a climb. The irony of this situation wasn't lost on me-- before the accident I pretty much never fell while climbing, but afterward, while trying to go easy and safe, I found myself falling or hanging on gear with some frequency. This seemed like madness, and made me wonder what the hell I was doing out there at all.

But I'm happy to report that over time my head improved (although not completely). I lost a good bit of the weight I gained and I alsotried through the year to become a better technical climber with a better awareness of balance and footwork than I had in the past. I see increased proficiency as a path towards feeling confident enough to progress back up the grades in the future. At some point this year I gave up on having any big climbing achievements in . It has been a rebuilding year.I haven't led a single pitch of trad 5.9 all year, and I'm fine with that. I recently followed a few, and they felt laughably easy. I take that as a good sign, and I plan to put that good feeling in my pocket for the winter, work really hard in the gym through the cold months, and emerge in the spring with confidence thatI can soon begin leadingharder climbsagain, breaking back into 5.9 and maybe even 5.10. And I hopethat whenI doso the climbs willfeel secure, and not beyond my limits.

So I have continued to climb, and life goes on. I can't assure anyone that I have made the right decision. But I can promise I'm more careful than I used to be, with the unfortunate side effect that I'm also more tentative. I am more willing to back off, and I will be much slower about working up the grades, more conscious of my limits. On the whole I believe I'm moving in the right direction. And that's the best balance I thinkI can achieve.

Riding in Daddy's Arms

The base layer Hoodies!

Thelwtclimbing hoody? Patagonia made them popularand then droppedthem from production. Popular demandresurrected them again. May be? Patagonia is certainly offering some wild color choices in the R1 today. No more basic black?



Quickly Copied by MEC @ half price? Certainly ;-)



I wrote this winter of '07/'08:



"You might want to think about putting some wool next to your body and a light synthetic layer/s over it. Add hoods that will go under and over your a helmet. The “R” series Patagonia hoody or the really simple Nike hoody (which I like even better for cold weather) works well. (Nike version I had is unavailable now)



Headbands under the helmet regulate heat better with helmet and layers of hoods than a hat will. The head band will also add to your warmth if pulled down to your neckline and nothing to drop. I no longer carry a hat. But I pull on or off any one the layers of hoods over my helmet at belays or while climbing. Try that with a hat while climbing a hard pitch!"



I wear and change my hoodies like I do foot wear for climbing.



I have dbl boots and Croc sandals. And generally a hoody I would chose for each. No kidding.



Why a hoody?



More here as to why you want to be able to add head and neck protection quickly:



http://wildernessmedicinenewsletter.wordpress.com/2007/02/14/heat-loss-through-the-head-and-hypothermia/



There are literally dozens of hoodies available now suitable for outdoor use and serious climbing. Take a look around. You might find onethat suits your own needs.





A quick look atthe hoodies I own and where I use them.



Climbing specific versions first.



My first1st base layer in cold weather? Wool! Two reasons. I think it insulates better in the cold where you aren't so worried about moisure transportation and it doesn't instantly reek of BO.



The ultimate lwt wool hoody. Sherpa Adventure Gear'sluxuriousmerino wool. I love this thing. I use this one as a base layer with the option of layering other hoodies over it. It is a must have for me. They will be available in store this fall. Ask your retailer. Super thin and lwt. Comfy to wear next to your skin. Hood goes in the helmet









Next up and the one I generally wear with Salopettes as it is a tiny bit lighter weight and breathes better than the Patagonia version imo. I also like the hood coverage on these. It is a very similar cut as the merino wool SAG version. A bit less coverage than the Patagonia version on the hood. It also has a chest pocket and thumb holes similar to the R1. Half the price of the R1 and excellent quality. I actually like the hood and pattern better than the R1. Hood will go in or over a helmet.







Patagonia's R1 Hoody. Everyone seems to have one. I use it as a breathable but heavy weight base layer. Sometimes it is both my base and mid layer. Best used that way I think, as a single layer. Others use it as a lwt mid layer. Nice chest pocket and thumb holes. I own two because I use this one a lot. One is generally in the laundry all winter. Very long tails and works perfectly with climbing pants. Hood will go in or over a helmet. Hood could be better fitted or may be it is just been used over my helmet too much.





Hoodies seem to me to be defined by material used (and how breathable the material is) and the amount of coverage the hoody offers on the face. A second version from SAG that rules in both areas. Super stretch pile. So it feels awesome on.I'd love to see this patternis a grid pileversion and in the lwt Merino wool SAG is using on the hoody above. I think Sherpa Adveture Gear would own the market on Hoodies if they offered those three versions. Hood on this one is best used in a helmet I think.









Three hoodies I use a lot climbing that are not climbing specific. The kangaroo pockets mean you won't be tucking them into pants. Only the Patagonia Sun Hoodyhas a tapered athletic fit of this bunch.



Merino wool from Patagonia. This thing I use every where. Pajama top? Around the house? Cool day rock climbing? Perfect. Merinowool pile. Expensive but bought on sale and worth that price in retrospect. Kangaroo pocket no zippers.







Another Patagonis piece but a synthetic this time....another of my go to pieces at home and in the mtns.

The Sun hoody. Super lwt weight. I have used it as a base layer in winter and as a "shell" ski touring. Super comfortable. Likely to wear it in the office as I am in the mtns. Great sun protection. Pockets depend on the version you buy. This one has a tiny zippered pocket for keys. Others have a kangaroo pocket and no zipper.







And finally the North Face synthetichoody.....my rock climbing and cragging "sweater". Cheap, useful and super durable. I used it on several long, dawn to O dark thirty,alpine traverses last summer. The thing simply rocks. Kangaroo pocket no zipper.







No sorry, 9ine, says hisglasses are not for sale ;-)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=964QHmjLqa0

Pilen Lyx: the Pragmatic Romantic

Earlier this summer, I had a Pilen Lyx lady's bicycle in my possession for over a month, on loan from the US distributor BoxCycles. During this time I got to know the bicycle fairly well, and it is one of the more unusual classic bikes I have ridden so far - with a combination of qualities that makes it difficult to categorise. A city bike and an off-road bike in one, the Pilen is attractive, durable, amazingly stable, and is capable of hauling a great deal of weight.



When the blue Pilenwas delivered to me, I was taken aback by its striking looks. I knew that this bicycle was designed to be practical, not pretty. A Scandinavian friend described its reputation as that of a "tank" - resistant to rust, tolerant of neglect and abuse, and indifferent to getting dropped on the ground or crashed at slow speeds - all around "solid." In a region that is no stranger to heavy-duty bikes, that is quite a statement and it led me to expect a purely no-nonesense machine. But in person the Pilen has a romantic quality to it that transcends the practical aspects.



It is not a quaint bicycle. But it is graceful and evocative. My imagination immediately went into overdrive with daydreams of seaside forest trails and lush meadows under stormy skies - the Pilen gliding through them with a stack of firewood strapped to its rear rack. While in a way such flights of fancy are absurd, I think that a bicycle's ability to inspire is tremendously important, and the Pilen inspires.



Aside from the looks in a general sense, I was impressed with the frame construction. I knew that the frame was TIG-welded (not lugged) steel, so I was not expecting to swoon over it. But as far as welded frames go, this is swoon-worthy. The frame joints are beautiful, with the welding marks nearly invisible - visually on par with custom frames.



The curved seat stays are capped and meet the seat tube in the most elegant manner. No shortcuts, no ugly blobs here. The top of the seat tube has a "collar" that completes the quality feel.



The crisp, lugged fork crown balances out the details at the rear. It is really very nicely done and I prefer a frame like this by far to frames where the main tubes are half-heartedly lugged, with a welded rear triangle or a unicrown fork slapped on.



My one criticism of the frame construction, is that while there are details such as a braze-on for the front wheel stabiliser spring, there are no braze-ons for the shifter cable and it is attached along the down tube with black clips. Why not add a couple of braze-ons here?



The Pilen headbadge: "cycles from Malilla." The word pilen means "arrow" in Swedish. The bicycles are designed and assembled in-house, with the frames built in Taiwan to their specifications.



Pilen bicycles come equipped with Brooks B66 saddles (B66S for the lady's frame) in a selection of colours. Frame colour can also be selected - the other options being black, dark green and dark red.



Rubber grips and a Pilen-branded bell. You have to spin the bell to ring it, which can work nicely for those whole finger hurts from trigger-style bells.



The version of the Lyx I had was equipped with a 3-speed Shimano coaster brake hub with a twist shifter. Other possibilities are available, including hand-operated brakes and 8-speed hubs. The bicycle comes with a dynamo hub-powered headlight, which can be attached either below the stem or on the side, via a braze-on on the fork - depending on whether you plan to attach a basket. When the headlight it attached below the stem, the wire is contained within a long spring that attaches to a braze-on on the fork. I have never seen this method before and spent a lot of time examining the spring.



The tail light is battery powered - as is increasingly the trend with many European bicycles that previously used dynamo-powered lighting front and rear. I think the trend is an unfortunate one, and wish the Pilen had a dynamo-powered tail light.



The tires are 700C x 48mm Schwalbe Big Apples, black with reflective sidewalls.



One feature that gives the Pilen its distinct look is the custom rear rack. It is beautifully made, with hand-painted insignia, and is unusually large.



For reference, this is a large pizza box (17"x17").



Jammed under the saddle and held in place with a rat-trap spring. Yup, that's all it takes to transport a pizza on this bike.



This is the only rack I've seen with not one but two rat-trap springs, and they came in handy when devising creative ways to carry shopping bags. I have also attached stacks of large, heavy boxes to the rack with bungee cords, and it hardly flinched. The platform is so wide, that the packages stay very stable. The one downside of a rack like this, however, is that the tubing is too thick for pannier systems that attach via hooks. Ortlieb, R&K, Fastrider and Basil hooks will not fit around it. Only a system such as the one Po Campo uses (shown above and reviewed here) will work with the Pilen rack.



An optional front rack is also available with the Pilen (shown and reviewed here), but I opted not to install it. This front rack felt excessively heavy, and at 47lb the bicycle was already borderline too much for me to handle without it. I was also told that installing the front rack scratches up the head tube and headbadge, so all in all it did not seem appealing. For all of my needs (workbag, grocery shopping, and the occasional transport of boxes and bulky packages) the huge rear rack was sufficient.



While in possession of the Pilen, I went back and forth between riding it and my mid-'90s Gazelle, marveling at the differences between them despite their superficial similarities. While my Gazelle is a prototypically hardy Dutch bike, it seemed almost flimsy in comparison to the Pilen's visibly thicker tubing, wider tires, and overall "heavier set" looks. The Gazelle's rear rack looked downright scrawny next to the Pilen's mighty platform, and the Gazelle's handling at slow speeds was like that of a drunker sailor compared to the Pilen's unwavering stability. On the other hand, the Pilen was slower to accelerate and more effortful to push for me than my old Gazelle - an experience that seems to be a factor of my size and weight, as described here.



Compared to traditional Dutch bikes or English Roadsters, the SwedishPilen's geometry is not quite as relaxed, and its handlebars are considerably less swept back - positioning the cyclist's hands almost straight in front of them, mountain bike-style. This makes the handling both more controlled and livelier, with the cyclist's weight more evenly distributed between the front and rear of the bike. While I like the lower positioning of the handlebars, I would prefer it if they had more sweep to them - but this is a matter of personal preference.

The thing that impressed me the most about the Pilen's ride quality, is its stability. When starting and stopping, itfeels extremely sturdy and safe. I wrote earlier about all the different things people mean when they describe a bicycle as "stable," and the Pilen is pretty much all of them. It does not want to go down, no matter what - a factor that can be especially important to novices who are worried about faltering at intersections in traffic.



I also soon discovered that the Pilen handled excellently on a variety of off-road surfaces: grass, dirt, gravel paths, even narrow trails with roots and rocks. This is a very fun and safe bicycle to ride off pavement.



All in all, I have probably ridden about 100 miles on the Pilen - most of it in the form of short (< 5 mile) trips. The longest I have ridden it in the course of a single ride is 20 miles. Initially I was reluctant to take a longer trip on this bike, because of how relatively effortful it felt to accelerate. But in the course of the longer ride it "blossomed" and we developed a flow that made it faster and easier than I expected. The bike also did surprisingly well on hills, particularly if given a chance to pick up speed beforehand.



The more experience I gained with the Pilen over time, the less certain I became about how to define or explain it. A classic "swan" frame reminiscent of vintage bicycles, it really handles more like a contemporary mountain bike with upright positioning. The on/off road handling can be especially useful for those who regularly travel through pothole-ridden neighbourhoods, or for those who have access to off road trails for commuting. For those who enjoy touring on an upright bike, the Pilencould be a good candidate as well.



The one size only 56cm lady's frame is best suited for taller women, which is good news for those who have been unable to find step-through frames in larger sizes. Theheavy-duty tubing and wheels are designed for carrying serious weight, which is great for heavier riders and for those regularly traveling with the bike fully loaded. No bicycle is for everyone, but I think the Pilen fills a niche that needed filling: It is a hard-core, elegant transport bike whose mountain bike-ish handling should be inherently familiar to a North American cyclist. Though I would have liked to see a full chaincase, dressguards and a dynamo-powered tail light on thePilen, it is otherwise fully equipped for daily transportation.Having housed it outdoors for the duration of my guardianship, I can attest to the bike'sresistance to the elements and its general durability: There is not a scratch on the powdercoat and the components are free of rust.

Last month I hosted a contest to give away the Pilen to one of my readers, and the winner should be receiving the bicycle shortly. I wonder what she will think of it, and how her impressions will compare to my pragmatic and romantic musings. Many thanks once again to Will of BoxCycles for the opportunity to get to know this bicycle, and for so generously donating it to be given away.