Joy and Sorrow

My friend Lorene passed away yesterday afternoon. It has been a rough week. But amongst the sorrow there were times of joy and pleasure in getting to know her son and daughter-in-law and their two children.

Secret egg deposit revealed

No wonder I thought the hens had stopped laying.

My husband had put some excess hay in a big box, to get it up off the ground while he hosed down the shop porch. Then, as things tend to happen around here, it just got left there.

Somebody else (it might have been me) put some more empty boxes on top, to keep them above Jasmine-munching level. Said someone then never actually got around to moving the boxes the next week, after the near-overflowing garbage can had been emptied.

Turns out that was much more inviting than some old lovingly handbuilt nesting boxes in a super-deluxe chicken coop.

But now that someone moved the boxes that made the roof of this cubbyhole, it's apparently not so inviting anymore. They've moved the secret stash somewhere else. I haven't found it yet.

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We've been losing critters again, I think to coyotes. One of our muscovies and several chickens. My favorite chicken. The only one we had left who was laying the green eggs. We have lots more Easter Eggers but they're still young pullets.

Leghorns start laying incredibly fast, at about four months of age. Our Ameraucanas/Easter Eggers were late bloomers, not laying until they were six to eight months old. Now that they're all gone, it'll be two to four months before we see green eggs again.

I've come to the conclusion that Jasmine thinks her job is to guard us instead of the animals. The chickens make it worse by insisting on staying in the woods, where it's cooler, but where Jasmine can't see them, and where the coyotes can pick them off with ease.

Trave and Stormy

After Bonita had her fill of running for fun (see previous blog) I let the ponies out into the big pen to play. They ran and ran and then took a good roll. some of the photos are blurry as the camera couldn't focus on them fast enough.

A Day in the Life of Jacqueline

When I initially borrowed Jacqueline, I was not sure whether I would actually use the bicycle for transportation, or just ride a bit in my spare time. But after half a day, I decided not to renew my weekly public transport card for the duration of my stay in Vienna. It is very easy to get around the city by bicycle - not just through the central touristy parts, but through Vienna proper. To demonstrate, Jacqueline will show you one of her daily routines.



At 7:00 am, we are off to the office via the Danube Canal Path - which functions like a cross-town bicycle highway through Vienna. It just so happens that both my flat and my office are close to the canal, so our route to work is pretty straightforward. Pictured above is the nearest entrance onto the path.



The Danube Canal is an offshoot of the Danube River. Both the canal and the river proper have bicycle paths running alongside, but the advantage of he canal path is that it cuts through the center.



One thing I like about it, is how green the water looks - especially in the morning. No idea whether this is due to reflection from trees or chemical pollution, but it looks nice and so I choose to believe the former.



There are some cobblestone stretches along the path, and the 28" Schwalbe Delta Cruisers on Jacqueline are just fine with them. But I have seen other cyclists get off their bikes and walk here.



Some parts of the canal path are woodsy and surreal-looking.



Jacqueline enjoys this sort of scenery the most.



Other stretches are more urban and take you closer to the main road.



That's okay too, but cycling here during rush hour will give you a nice helping of auto exhaust fumes. Have others noticed this problem in large cities? I have been told that automobile emissions in Europe (not counting former Eastern-bloc countries) are supposed to be less toxic than in the US, but my lungs seem to disagree. If anybody has more info about this, please share.



Heading toward the Southern edge of town, the scenery on the Danube Canal Path grows distinctly less picturesque. We are now cycling alongside the highway. And yes, that is a highway sign for Budapest and Bratislava. Bratislava (capital of Slovakia) is only a 45 minute drive away from this point. But instead of going there, Jacqueline heads to the office.



The landscape around my place of work is somewhat post-apocalyptic, but over time I have grown fond of it. Lots of interesting research facilities there, and I work with nice people. The total time it takes Jacqueline to cycle to the office from our flat is 20 minutes - the exact time it takes to commute using public transport.



I rarely stay at the office all day, but typically have meetings all over the city. On this day I had an afternoon meeting in a Cafe at the end of the Prater - the largest park in Vienna.



Lusthaus Cafe. Before you misunderstand what I do for a living - it's not what is sounds like in English. The name means "funhouse". This was about a 10 minute ride from the office for Jacqueline. After the meeting, we briefly returned to work, leaving in the late afternoon to run some errands.



First stop: the bank, in the city center, a 25 minute ride away. To get here, Jacqueline rode back via the Danube Canal path, and then along the Ring Road - which is another "bicycle highway" that loops around the city center.



Jacqueline then proceeded to the photo store in an adjacent district - a 15 minute ride away - to buy some film. She rode there mostly on the road, via a combination of bicycle lanes, "sharrow"-marked side streets, and unmarked side streets. The thing about "sharrows" in Vienna, is that they are mostly painted on 1-way streets against the flow of traffic. Yes, against. The speed limit on these streets is usually 30 km/h. This design goes against everything I have come to believe over the past year as a cyclist in Boston. What do you think of it? And could anybody comment whether Copenhagen and Amsterdam are the same in this respect?



After the photo store, Jacqueline was locked up on a main shopping street and waited a bit while I met a friend for coffee. Then we went to the grocery store Billa.



Jacqueline was proud that she could fit 1/2 week's worth of groceries and my laptop bag into a single pannier. (She is lazy and did not want to open the second one.)



As dusk approached, we cycled home - once again via a combination of roads, then the Ring Path via the route described here. All in all, I would estimate that Jacqueline did a couple of hours of back and forth cycling, and this was typical of how much I travel through the city on an average day in Vienna. Normally all of these trips would have been done using public transport. The travel time by bike is about the same.



I rode Jacqueline for transportation for the last week of my stay in Vienna. It was wonderful and made up for my bad luck earlier this month. I now feel like an idiot that I didn't just buy a bicycle when I lived here for longer stretches in previous years. Cycling in the countryside on my days off was nice, but I have to say that commuting by bike in Vienna is even nicer. And regardless of what the local shops might tell you, a 3-speed is sufficient to tackle "hilly Vienna". I am by no means in the best shape and had no trouble. Of course, the vintage magic of Jacqueline might play a role in that as well. But in any case - if you are in Vienna, get a bicycle and enjoy the city, whether you are a leisurely visitor or work at a fast-paced job!

Laurel Falls in Great Smoky Mountains NP

Today we headed to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. We hiked the Laurel Falls Trail.

Laurel Falls is one of the most popular destinations in the park.

Laurel Branch and the 80-foot high Laurel Falls are named for mountain laurel, an evergreen shrub which blooms along the trail and near the falls in May

It appeared to me that the falls were not as abundant as they are sometimes, so I'm guessing the water levels must be low.

They were really beautiful! This is the upper falls.

Here you can see the upper falls and lower falls. The upper falls are in the far left corner.

The lower falls from below:

I didn't go down to the lower falls. Nathan and Aric did. They ended up having lots of excitement down there. I'll let Aric share it with you, which you can read on his blog here: Aric's Blog



If you go back and look at the first picture, it will give you a hint of what they got pretty close to down there.



Living the life in Tennessee.

Fog Drip

Fog Drip, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

The last photo from my recent redwood day-trip...

Redwoods are interesting because they capture fog moisture and cause it to drip down into the forest understory. It's what makes the ferns grow big, and what can soak unprepared hikers (like myself)...

Through the Hedge Backwards

On Monday morning I went on a scouting ride to theDark Hedges. The site is just outside the village of Armoy, about 10 miles inland from where I am staying. The inland roads here are flat-ish by local standards. The weather was looking good. It would be a nice and easy ride. And of course, I would finally see the mysterious old trees. I had elaborate photographic plans for them.



I set off after having breakfast in town. As a reader has astutely noted after a previous post,every exit from Ballycastle is uphill. I picked one that was relatively mild - though not the mildest, as I wanted to avoid the congested main road that leads out of town. The climbing began straight away.







The terrain in Antrim is difficult to describe to someone who has never been here. Coming from New England, it was a jolt to my system. We do have hills in New England of course, but they are "rollers" mainly - relatively short, if steep, ups and downs where the momentum from a descent can be used to get up the next hill fairly easily. If we want more serious hills than that - either steeper or more sustained climbs - we have to seek them out. And almost any route involves plenty of flat stretches as well, providing opportunities to rest from climbing and descending.




Here in Antrim it is rather different. Most routes I have ridden so far have consisted of long climbs at a mild grade, punctuated by shorter but steeper climbs. There are almost no truly flat stretches, along the central part of the coast at least, no opportunities to rest. It is either a long up or a long down. Even at a mild grade, sustained climbs are draining for someone who is not accustomed to them. Being used to New England terrain, I have learned to "attack" hills, but that approach does not work here. When there is no end in sight, attacking just saps energy - it is far better to relax, get into a low gear, settle in, and spin while enjoying the view.




The landscape en route to Armoy is pretty enough. But on the coast of Antrim one soon gets spoiled with astonishingly dramatic views, and these were fairly plain in comparison. Farms mostly, stone walls, lots of adorable lambs basking in the sunshine.





The morning was a sunny one, but the skies were a dark slate-gray. The combination created a moody landscape that I kept wanting to stop and photograph. But I decided against taking photos until the return trip, because I wanted to make it to my destination while the weather was good. You never know here from one hour to the next.






Still, half way through I was seduced by a particularly fetching view of heavy skies over a dilapidated farm house. I could not help myself and stopped to take a quick picture.




No sooner than I took out my camera and composed the shot, the sun disappeared. Now it was just the dark sky, and the scene looked rather dismal. As I debated whether to wait for the sun to re-emerge or get back on the bike, it began to rain - so suddenly that I barely had time to shove my camera back inside the handlebar bag.




And then I felt something sharp on my face. What the...?




All at once, it was hailing. Hard. The morning light disappeared entirely as shards of ice pelted the earth - and me - with violent force. At first I was too stunned to do or even think anything. Then I began to panic. I had stopped in the middle of nowhere, with the nearest settlement 5 miles away in either direction. There was no shelter here - no trees, no canopy of any kind. The dilapidated farm house was separated by a barb wire fence, so I could not hide out in it. The temperature kept dropping. The hail kept falling. "Am I going to perish here?" I thought. I did not know what to do.




But then I realised... that I didn't really need to "do" anything other than pull up the hood of my raincoat. I had dressed warmly. I was wearing a waterproof coat and shoes. Everything was fine. I could simply enjoy this natural phenomenon... and hope there would be no lightning.





Thankfully, there wasn't. The hail soon let up and it was just the rain now. I got back on the bike and soon reached the village of Armoy. The Dark Hedges would only be a few miles from here.





I should mention that I had seen no other cyclists on this route up to this point, and very few motor vehicles had passed me outside of settled areas. It was just me, all alone, in what was now almost comically terrible weather.






When I reached the village of Armoy, it looked eerily abandoned. Houses on the main street boarded up, shops and pubs closed. Finally I passed a small grocery store that was open and came in to get a hot coffee from the machine. Nine Inch Nails played on the radio, contrasting wildly with the quiet shuffle of the two elderly patrons.




The pale, lanky teenager at the cash register (ah that explained the music) took an interest in my "wee folding bike" and confirmed the directions to the Hedges. He then refused payment for the coffee - which I have found happens here often. I left the money on the counter anyway, in case one of the other shoppers was short on change.






It continued to rain, though less violently, as I turned onto Gracehill Road, then finally Bregagh Road. On the corner an old man was sitting inside a bus shelter - a solitary figure in an otherwise desolate landscape. Simultaneously we waved to one another as I cycled past.




Now the road grew narrow and the vegetation wild. I began to climb a tedious hill as rain obscured my vision. I thought that I'd be able to see the famous trees in the distance by now and that this sight would at least encourage my progress, but the top of the hill blocked my view of what lay further. I realised how exhausted I was at this point from all the climbing I had done on this "flat" route, and from the rain, and from the cold. Honestly, I just wanted to get it over at this point and was no longer even excited about the Hedges.




But just then, at long last, I crested the hill. And at that exact moment the sun came out. And the rain turned into hail again. And that is when I saw them.






The Dark Hedges - in the hail, fog, and sunshine simultaneously. Descending under the canopy oftwisted branches was like passing through a tunnel. I then turned around, propped the bike against a tree, took out my camera and spent the next hour taking photos - about 500 of them, capturing the ethereal sight in a variety of weather conditions. "Four seasons in day," as they like to say here.




I've since visited the trees again, and I might write about them in more detail later. But on this occasion it was really a matter of the journey more than the destination. The experience of seeing the long-awaited Hedges as I crested that hill... no photo can capture it.





It was not the weather for tourists, but at some point a car drove past and pulled over on the side of the road. Just as the rain finally stopped, a couple jumped out to take pictures. Seeing me there, they asked whether I could take one of them both. I did, after which they took one of me. Rather appropriately, I look like I've been dragged through the hedge backwards. What a ride this turned out to be.

Nate Wallace?

Sea Palms at Shore Acres State Park

During our recent trip out west we visited Shore Acres State Park, one of the best places along the Oregon coast to watch the ocean waves. As I was photographing the surf breaking over the near-shore rocks I noticed these little ocean shrubs that looked like miniature palm trees. I think they add a bit of whimsy to this photo.

Exploring Downtown Gaylord

Today we went to explore the downtown area of Gaylord. The whole town is done in a Swiss/Alpine theme and it is so cute! Our first stop was an ice cream shop that was giving out cones for a $1 donation to the Boys/Girls Clubs.

Then we wandered around just looking at the buildings and bears and monuments.