Iconic British Telephone Booth

OMG, I got paparazzi'd yesterday in Sheffield while inside the iconic British telephone booth! LOL

Old Friends and Fond Memories

Bob, Sandy, John, Gary, and Smitty. This photo was taken in December 1973, just a few weeks before I left Reykjavik, Iceland. It's really hard to believe that it was 35 years ago! My one-year tour of duty in Iceland was made much more pleasant because of their presence.

We stayed in touch for a while. . . Bob was onboard a ship heading for Japan about the time I left there in May 1979. I saw Sandy a couple of times before I went to Japan. John and his wife met me at the airport in Hawaii when I was on my way to Japan in May 1977 and I visited them in Seattle after my return. I have no idea what happened to Gary and Smitty. As often happens, we lost contact after a few years. I often wonder what became of them and some of the other friends I had while in the Navy. Occasionally I Google their names, but haven't found anything on them yet. I did get a couple of emails earlier this year from two of the girls with whom I went through bootcamp. They had found the posts on my letters from bootcamp. It was nice because I actually remembered who they were!

As my contribution to the 8th Edition of Smile For The Camera :: Stocking Stuffer, I would like to stuff this picture into the stockings of Bob, Sandy, John, Gary, and Smitty. Thanks for the memories!

The horses at Grand Oaks

While we loved seeing the museum, I think the highlight of our visit to Grand Oaks Resort and Carriage Museum was our time with the horses after we saw the museum. First we visited one of the many barns, to see if there were any horses in their stalls.



We did not find any horses there so we headed to the pastures. There are 400 gorgeous acres at Grand Oaks and everywhere we looked, we were surrounded by beauty and horses.



Here are were some of the sweethearts we got to spend time loving on.





And I just have to share two shots of this beauty. Can you believe those eyes?!?




She was a sweetie too!




Living the life in The Villages, FL.

Newspaper Rock

Along the access road to Canyonlands, thirty miles east of the entrance, Newspaper Rock is a little mystery that will likely never be solved. It is a large slab of rock covered with desert varnish (a blackish manganese-iron deposit that gradually forms on exposed sandstone cliff faces due to the action of rainfall and bacteria) into which have been inscribed numerous petroglyphs. The older images are becoming darker in color as new varnish slowly develops over them. The first carvings were made around 2,000 years ago, although a few are as recent as the early 20th century.

There has been a lot of speculation as to the meanings of the drawings but in fact no one really knows what they mean or why they are in this place. It is in the middle of nowhere. Was this a stopping-off point for native people? Does it have spiritual or religious significance? Is it simply graffiti from a time long past?

A Monster at Sunset...

One evening I drove up to Massai Point (6,883 feet above sea level and one of the highest points in Chiricahua National Monument) for the sunset and played with some shots of one of the stone formations...

The glowing “eye” sure made it look creepy.

But the glowing mouth was really weird.

Walking off into the sunset...

Sure doesn't look the same in the light of day!

'Twas another glorious sunset!

Snorkeling at Bahia Honda State Park

The older kids drove down to join us today, and we headed over to Bahia Honda to do some snorkeling. We had a big rain storm all day yesterday so it was a bit chilly and the water was too cloudy to see anything. We had fun anyways. We were there when the sun was beginning to set. As glorious as I think the beach is, I think being there at sunrise and sunset makes it a million times more glorious.



The kids waded out in the water first and I could tell by their expressions that the water was cold. Once they got out there, they had fun. Here they are laughing at who knows what. It doesn't even matter what, because when I see my kids laughing-all is right with my world.





I am always fascinated by the birds at the beach. It's hard not to want to snap a million pictures of them!







I'm more fascinated by this though. This is what makes my heart sing. I love these people!



They are laughing again. This time I know what they are laughing at though.



Dad is doing his duck walk into the water. It's the simple things in life that make our day. What can I say? We are easily entertained in this family.



Aren't they beautiful? Even if they are using their dad as a source of entertainment, they are really beautiful!



Life is good! Living it in Sunny Florida!

14 Months Without a Car

We have been without a car since last December. The "anniversary" of this date was so unremarkable, that it came and went unnoticed. But I've had some requests to post a 1-year report about what it has been like, which made me realise it's already been longer than that. I want to make it clear that being without a car is not a political statement for us and is not wrapped up in our sense of identity. For that reason I do not use words such as "car-free" or "car-light," or any of the related terminology. We simply do not have a car, for the time being.





Living on the border of Somerville and Cambridge, MA, we are lucky to be in a location that happens to be convenient for getting around the Boston Metro area by bike. Before moving here 4 years ago, we lived in rural Northern New England - where we did a great deal of driving and each had a substantial vehicle with off-road and hauling capacity. As soon as we moved to Boston, we sold the larger of the two, because it was clear that keeping both was impractical. The Co-Habitant's car was sold, and mine was to become the shared car. However, what happened instead is that I simply stopped driving at that point entirely, preferring to get around on foot and via public transportation. When later I started riding a bike, that became my main mode of transport. I have not been behind the wheel of a motor vehicle since late 2007, and I even let my driver's license lapse for some time. But I still co-owned our shared car, and rode in it as passenger.





We used the shared car mainly to travel out of town and for trips that involved transporting or purchasing bulky items. The majority of everyday transportation we did by bike, simply because both of us found it more convenient. When the car broke down in late November , we realised that we did not really feel like getting it fixed and preferred to make do without it instead. So that is what we did.





The winter of - was a brutal one, and interestingly getting through it was what cemented our decision. It snowed so much and so frequently, that we often relied on resources close to home - which made us realise that it is possible. If there was too much snow on the roads to cycle, there was a grocery store and pharmacy within walking distance. They may not be our preferred grocery store and pharmacy, but nonetheless they are there for us to simply walk to in case we needed milk at 10pm in a snowstorm. Further afield there are coffee shops, restaurants, a post office, and other destinations that could be reached on foot. The Co-Habitant could evenwalk to work if really necessary, though he had no problem cycling through snow. I could also walk or take public transportation.If anything, we felt that we had it easier that winter than drivers - who constantly complained about having to dig out and defrost their cars, and about the horrible driving conditions. A bike and a pair of winter boots require much less maintenance.






Once that winter was over, everything else was a piece of cake. Owning a car in Boston now seemed like a burden and inconvenience. How did we ever manage with all those fees and maintenance responsibilities? Not owning a car was so much easier, not to mention that we now magically had more money. And that's really all there was to it, as far as everyday stuff was concerned.






That is not to say that we never used a car. We still occasionally needed to travel to remote out of town locations and to transport bulky items. And, ironically, I occasionally had to transport bikes in various states of assembly for Lovely Bicyclerelated projects. But the key word here is "occasionally." Once we got the hang of zipcar and car rental, using these services in addition to the occasional taxi proved to be sufficient for us to not feel that we needed to actually own a car. The main limitation of zipcar, is that you cannot always get one on the spot, and we tend to do things spontaneously rather than plan everything out carefully. But over time we got better at planning and also became more savvy/psychic about zipcar rental. After a couple of initial glitches, it has mostly been okay. I even moved into my art studio with the help of a zipcar pickup truck, which went very well with fairly minimal planning.






Our only frustration so far has been with the public transportation system. Without exaggeration, the T (subway) has gotten stuck between stations most of the times I've taken it over the past year, making me late for appointments. The buses are habitually late by as much as 20 minutes, to the point that the bus timetable is not meaningful. The buses are also very full and taking fragile items on board is not practical. The commuter rail runs infrequently and not at the times we seem to need it, so that going somewhere via commuter rail can mean having to spend an entire day at the destination instead of the 1.5 hours we need to spend there. Also, many of the commuter rail stops are not handicap-accessible - which also means not bike-friendly, since they have these super long and narrow staircases leading down to the platform from overpasses. Whenever I criticise the MBTA, inevitably someone gets angry, as if public transportation is some holy thing no matter how good or bad it is and I should be thankful for it. But with all due respect, having used public transportation successfully in cities where it works, the MBTA is a disgrace in comparison. I cannot pretend to be thankful for the frustration and wasted time it causes me nearly every time I attempt to use it, and I am certain that it is the reason why more people in the greater Boston area do not feel comfortable without a car.






MBTA frustrations aside, we did manage to go on a 2-week vacation via bike plus commuter rail over the summer, and it was a lot more fun than renting a car would have been. No traffic jams, no gas station stops, no looking for parking - just the freedom of bikes. We brought all the stuff we would normally have taken with us too, including two weeks worth of clothing, books, laptops, and basic camera equipment. It's amazing how much you can stuff into heavy-duty bicycle luggage if you try.






When we first discussed the idea of giving up the car, it was important for both of us not to feel as if being without it would be a struggle, or would limit our freedom. And over a year later, I can say that at no point did we feel that way. At this stage of our lives not having a car gives us more freedom, not less. We do not miss the responsibilities and the spendings that come with owning, parking, fueling and maintaining a vehicle in the Boston Metro area. We also simply never talk about it anymore. We neither lament our carless state, nor do we congratulate ourselves for it; it's just become one less issue to worry about.





By no means is this narrative intended to be an "if I can do it, you can!" sort of thing. Our circumstances happen to be conducive to getting along without a car, but others' circumstances might not be. There is also no question in my mind that at some point in the future we will have a car again, and I will even drive it - since my ideal place to live is in the countryside in the middle of nowhere. In the end, it's not about fixating on the car as an object - be it an object of desire or an object of evil - but about deciding what works best for improving your quality of life. Car ownership for its own sake has become such a given, that it may simply not occur to some people that there are circumstances under which they might be better off (i.e. waste less time, be in a better mood, have more disposable income, feel better) without a private vehicle. When I lived in Vienna, I once asked an elderly socialite - the wife of a wealthy politician - whether she and her husband owned a car. She cringed and fanned herself. "Goodness no dear, sitting in traffic is so undignified! I take the trolley and I love to walk. For me, these are life's luxuries." The concept of luxury is, after all, relative.

Light at the end of the tunnel?

A good deal of my time so far this summer has been consumed with scanning pictures and preparing pictures for scanning. On June 2nd I reported that another 970 pictures had been scanned since mid-May, plus the 575 pictures of mom's that had been scanned in April.

For the heck of it, I decided to keep track of how much time was spent in scanning. In hindsight I probably should have tracked how much time was spent in preparing the pictures for scanning as well. Once I started on the magnetic albums, it's highly likely that as much time was spent in prep as in actual scanning.

The prep work consisted of removing the pictures from the albums, sorting them into the order in which they were to be scanned, then attaching them to archival paper. After fiddling with trying to put multiple pictures on the scanner bed and getting irritated with them moving when the cover was lowered (due to static), I decided to put the pictures on the pages where I wanted them, add captions as needed, then individually scan the pictures along with their corresponding captions. Too bad I didn't think of that when I was scanning mom's first album. Something to keep in mind for the next one!

Out of the past 48 days, scanning was done on 21 of them, usually 2-3 hours a day but occasionally 4 hours. One day I was on a roll and spent 6 hours scanning! I'm not totally crazy, it wasn't all at one sitting. I did get up a few times to stretch my legs and grab a bite to eat. And yes, I washed my hands after eating and before handling the pictures! Anyway, a total of 70 hours of scanning in 21 days netted another 2278 images. That's an average of 3.3 hours and 108.5 images per day.

That takes care of my personal albums. There are still a few more of Mom's to do. Next up will be the genealogy documents. But, they too need to be sorted prior to scanning. I've mentioned before that with my filing system I put documents of the same type together, regardless of who they are for, whether an ancestor or other relative, giving each document a number. I could find them easily because of the numbering system and the fact that when something was entered in my database the document number was entered for reference, so all I needed to do was look up the person in the database to see where the document was filed. But that system isn't really intuitive and I need to make it easier for whomever will take over my research (assuming there is a family member who wants it or in case it gets donated to a library or society). So that means sorting and putting the documents together for a given person or family. I haven't decided yet whether I'll scan "everything" or just the ancestral documents. "Everything" includes a lot. I think, after I've sorted through stuff I'll do the ancestors first and save the rest for another time. I want to get back to researching! And doing other things. But at the least, I want to get the ancestor documents scanned.

There may not yet be light at the end of the tunnel, but it will be there one day. Soon, I hope.

The picture below was taken in September 1978 while I was stationed in Japan. Above the Clouds. Sunrise from the top of Mt. Fuji. There is a story to tell that goes along with the picture, but it'll have to wait for another time.

Photo Copyright © 1978/.. by Rebeckah R. Wiseman

Georgia Sunrise

Funny thing about how the world turns... for every sunset there is a sunrise. Though ordinary they might be, each one is a sight to behold. I don't often get up early enough to catch the sunrise but on this particular day I was camped along the northern shore of a little inlet on Lake Blackshear in Georgia Veterans State Park and I was awakened by the early morning light. The colors in the sky were magnificent. But, of course, by the time I had gotten around and outside some of the awesome color had dissipated somewhat, but it was still quite nice.






February 1, .. at 7:16 am Central Standard Time.





Taken at 7:29 am.


It never ceases to amaze me how quickly the light changes and the dramatic effects, especially during the times of a sunrise or sunset.

The Grand Canyon :: Navajo Point and Desert View

Navajo Point is the last viewpoint before arriving at Desert View. Quite Spectacular. Indeed.





And a closer view of The River.



And this is how it looks from Desert View. The exterior of the Watch Tower was being renovated the last time I was here and this area was not accessible. I think the little blue wheelbarrow adds something to the picture, I'm just not sure what!





A slightly closer shot of the same view as above.



Each one of the stones used in construction of the Watch Tower was reportedly selected by the architect Mary Jane Colter. She also determined where each stone was to be placed.





I did go inside and was going to go up but after the first few steps, my legs cried out “no way” so I turned around. I was completely enthralled by the interior and took plenty of photos the last time, which you can see here.





The view to the east, looking out over the desert. The Little Colorado Gorge lies a few miles away and the terrain is still quite rugged.



And so, as the road to Desert View comes to an end, so too does this Journey of mine... I've made it safely back to Indiana. I'm Home Again. Thank you to everyone who has followed along, I'm so glad you could join me for the ride...



For those of you who are feeling the need for a bit of adventure, my cousins Sue & Fred will be hiking into the Grand Canyon in a few weeks. Then they will be traveling in the West and in May will follow the coast north and “driving” to Alaska via the Marine Highway. They will be spending the Summer Up North! I wish them well in their journey and will be following along virtually, as many of you have been following me...

Millbrook: Westward Ha! (5.7) & Cruise Control (5.9)

(Photo: Just above the final crux of Cruise Control (5.9). Photo by Christian Fracchia.)




Millbrook is a cliff with a fearsome reputation.




Unlike the other large cliffs at the Gunks, Millbrook has no easy access. A hike of at least three miles is required to approach the cliff. Once there, you have to rap in from above to get to the climbs. All of the climbs start from a narrow, sloping shelf popularly known as the "Death Ledge." Above this Death Ledge is a rotten band of rock; many of the climbing routes negotiate crumbly, loose territory for the first thirty to forty feet. And even if you survive the rotten band, you aren't out of the woods. The climbs at Millbrook are steep, difficult, and often poorly protected. 5.11 X is a common rating at Millbrook.




This is a serious cliff. You need to have a good idea of your limits before you go there. When you climb at Millbrook, you will likely be climbing alone. If something goes wrong, help is going to be hard to come by.




Does this sound like fun to you?




And yet the cliff has very attractive qualities as well. For starters, it is the highest, whitest, most impressive cliff at the Gunks. You might not notice it so much from New Paltz but if you spend any time in the area to the south, in Gardiner, for example, you can't help but feel its presence. We've rented a house on Bruynswick Road, which parallels the ridge, and every time I've driven down to this house from the north, following the road past all the major cliffs, I've been struck by how Millbrook looms over the area in the most appealing and inviting way. It is a beautiful, solemn place.




And there are great climbs at Millbrook. Not just hard man test-pieces (of which there are many), but also great moderates (or so I've been told). The introductory Millbrook route, right at the center of the cliff (next to the rappel tree), is Westward Ha!, a climb some consider to be the best 5.7 in the Gunks. Just to the right of Westward Ha! is a classic 5.9 called Cruise Control. Another reputed classic 5.9, Realm of the Fifth Class Climber, is down at the southern end of the cliff. And there are more, a handful of 5.7 to 5.9 climbs that I hear are well-protected and well worth doing, along with several world-class 5.10's and 5.11's that have reasonable pro.




Above all, Millbrook offers solitude, mystery, and the unknown, things which are in short supply at the other major cliffs at the Gunks. Millbrook provides a chance to get away from the same crowded routes you did yesterday and to step into what feels like a real alpine adventure.




Until this past weekend I'd never been climbing at Millbrook. I've been really wanting to go lately, intrigued by Christian Fracchia's website The White Cliff, which has wonderfully detailed topo photos of the whole cliff, along with updated route information that is more precise than what you'll find in any of the official guidebooks. I contacted Chris when I started thinking about climbing at Millbrook, and he gave me great advice about potential routes to climb and how best to reach them.




This past Sunday seemed like a good day to go. Clear skies and cool temperatures made for perfect conditions for hiking out to the cliff. Gail was willing to troop out there with me. I hoped we could knock off the two most obvious candidates, Westward Ha! (5.7) and Cruise Control (5.9), and still have time to maybe hit another moderate like The High Traverse (5.8 with the variation finish) or Realm of the Fifth Class Climber (5.9), mentioned above.









(Photo: On the trail to Millbrook, with Skytop visible in the distance.)




Dick Williams suggests in his guidebook that the hike out to Millbrook will take about an hour. For us the trip was uneventful but it took longer than that. We were slowed a bit by a lot of wetness on the trail, which I guess was a remnant of some heavy rain that fell a few nights before. The hike is perfectly pleasant, and I bet it is quite beautiful in late May/early June when the mountain laurel is in bloom.









(Photo: The rap tree is dead, Fred! What do we do now?)




Once we dead-ended into the Millbrook Mountain Trail and followed it to the cliff's edge, we had no trouble winding our way down to find the traditional rappel tree atop Westward Ha! Unfortunately, however, this tree is 100 percent deceased, as in dead, i.e. finished. This was a shock to us because everyone apparently still uses the dead tree! I don't know how long it has been this way but man, it is over and has been for a while. The tree is a black hulk. We briefly considered using it anyway, since it is such a huge tree, and it is unlikely to fail under body weight for quite a while. But it gave me the willies. I did not feel good about the idea of using it.




Looking around, we saw other rappel options, so it was easy for us not to use the dead tree. We found two trees that were decent-sized and very much alive, about 30 or 40 feet left (south) of the Westward Ha! rappel. These trees are also maybe 20 or 30 feet higher than the dead tree, but I was confident my 60 meter rope would still reach the Death Ledge, since I knew the rap from the dead tree was only 150-160 feet to the ledge.









(Photo: Rapping over the steepness that is Millbrook.)




I leaned out over the lip from our improvised rappel station to check the rap; it appeared to be a sheer drop to the ledge. It did not seem that there were any obstacles and I was more or less certain that the rope would reach. I also felt entirely sure that we would have no trouble climbing a 5.7 route to get off of the cliff. We would not be trapped down there. Still, I felt very nervous. It took a leap of faith to back my ass off the cliff and descend into the unknown. But this whole adventure was my idea, so I had to be the first one to go. I set up my rappel and off I went.









(Photo: The obvious corner of Westward Ha! (5.7).)




Once we both got down without incident, it was very easy to find the prominent corner ascended by Westward Ha! (5.7). And although the Death Ledge wasn't huge, the shelf was flat and wide enough at this part of the cliff for us to move around without fear that we were about to slip off of it and tumble to the talus some 70 or 80 feet below. (Nevertheless we stayed anchored while on the ledge.)









(Photo: Getting started on Westward Ha! (5.7).)




I had read that you could take any of several independent little lines up the first forty feet of the route to reach the prominent corner system. I could see that the path on the left looked the easiest, ascending blocky flakes all the way to the corner. But I guessed that this collection of flakes also contained a bunch of loose crap, giving this part of the route its reputation for bad rock. So I decided to go to the right, up a line that appeared to have obvious holds and solid rock, leading to a leftward traverse to the big corner.









(Photo: Gail coming up the right-hand start to Westward Ha!, which has nice climbing, good rock, and pretty good pro.)




I thought this part of the route had decent climbing, though the final moves left to the ledge seemed a bit thin to me for 5.7 and required the use of a fragile crimper hold. If this crimp breaks off, I think this start will be much harder than 5.7 in the future. Once I reached the tree at the base of the big corner I decided to stop and belay Gail from there. The short first pitch would cut down on drag and allow us to do the whole rest of the climb in one pitch. Gail agreed that the right hand start was a little stiff for 5.7.









(Photo: In the final moves up the pretty white face at the top of Westward Ha! (5.7).)




We found the rest of Westward Ha! to be superb. The corner is sustained, with one fine move after another. A crack goes up the back of the corner for most of the way, so pro is frequently available, and you can jam if you wish, although there are plenty of edges so it isn't necessary.




From the top of the corner you emerge at the crux of the route, thin moves up an attractive white face. Again the pro is there and the moves are great, and then before you know it you're at the top.




Westward Ha! is a very very nice 5.7. I would not call it the best 5.7 in the Gunks, because to me it lacks the mind-blowing standout moments that you'll find on the very best climbs, like, say, Thin Slabs Direct or CCK. Westward Ha! doesn't really have any one outstanding moment or section, though the whole thing is quite good. I enjoyed it immensely and thought it was well worth the walk. And I would do it again the same way, with the short pitch at the bottom, followed by a longer pitch with all of the great climbing in it.




Back on top of the cliff, it was already late for lunch. We had a bite and then rapped back down to check out Cruise Control (5.9). Like Westward Ha!, this climb is easy to find. If you continue walking right (north) just a short distance from Westward Ha!, maybe thirty feet or so, stepping over a boulder that is resting against the cliff face, you will quickly come to a spot below a small, left-facing corner in orange rock that leads up to a groove/shallow open book. The open book then trends up and right to a roof. This is Cruise Control.




It looked good to me. I had wondered earlier in the day if, when push came to shove, I would feel up to a 5.9 on Millbrook. Before we started Westward Ha!, I was so nervous, worrying about how the rock would feel, and about whether we were really equipped to deal with the climbing at this cliff. I did not want us to exceed our limits. But once we completed Westward Ha! these concerns melted away. The rock felt fine. The climbing was familiar. I knew I could handle leading a Gunks 5.9, and Cruise Control was supposed to be on the easy side of the grade. This was going to be no problem.




The first pitch was a great pleasure. The moves up the initial corner are nice, and the rock quality through the rotten band seemed fine to me. I can't remember any terrible looseness. Then the crux climbing comes at a technical sequence up the shallow open book. The left side of the book forms a beautiful layback flake with solid pro. By the time I was through this sequence I was already telling Gail how wonderful the pitch was, and I hadn't even reached the roof.




The overhang adds another cool dimension to the pitch. It is a solid 5.8+/5.9- affair, again with great gear. After you pull over it the pitch romps up easy territory to a pedestal where there are good cracks for a gear anchor. (You could also continue to the next shelf.)









(Photo: Pulling over the roof on pitch one of Cruise Control (5.9).)




As I prepared for pitch two, I thought the real business of the climb was over. The second pitch is 5.8, and I assumed the groove and roof on pitch one were the main attractions of the climb. I didn't expect much out of the second pitch.




Boy was I wrong. The second pitch of Cruise Control is amazing.




It starts up the obvious right-facing corner that rises above the belay ledge. But after 20 or 30 feet you need to traverse around the corner to the left and onto the face of the cliff. I placed a good nut while still in the corner but felt obligated to sling it really long to avoid the prospect of horrendous drag.




Peering around the corner, I could see good little footholds. But I was blind as to the hands, and the face above looked blank. Would there be any placements out there? Dick Williams rates this pitch as 5.8 G. That would seem to indicate that there must be pro out there, right?




Making the commitment and stepping out onto the face was spectacular. I found myself on a gorgeous white billboard beneath a small ceiling. The rock was solid and I could see the path up and left. The climbing here was easier than 5.8.




But there wasn't any pro. I spied a wide horizontal at the top of the billboard, at the overlap. I hoped my largest cam, a big blue Camalot, would fit. I moved up, easy does it, one exquisite move and then another. Staying focused. By the time I reached the overlap I was surely well into R-rated territory. A fall at that point would have been a long, sideways, swinging affair.




I tried to place the blue Camalot. It was tipped-out and biting into mud in the crack. Not good at all.




What to do? Maybe the blue cam would fit better if I moved it further to the left, off-line?




Looking around, I realized I'd fallen victim to tunnel vision. There was a vertical crack system just above me running upward, the continuation of the route. But in my fixation on the wide horizontal crack I hadn't even seen it. I could get a great cam or nut right over my head. I threw a yellow Alien in the vertical crack and exhaled.




Everything was going to be fine.









(Photo: Topping out on Cruise Control (5.9). Photo by Christian Fracchia.)




Just then, as I breathed a sigh of relief and looked upward, I saw a human head peek out from the top of the cliff.




"Chris, is that you?"




It was! I had told Fracchia I was headed out to Millbrook and he showed up (with his sheepdog) to see how I liked it and to snap a few photos.




While he got set up to shoot I climbed through the physical crux of the pitch, up the fun crack system through another overlap and on to the top. As I finished the climb Chris got the nice photos you see here. Then we hung out and chatted while Gail climbed the pitch. When she topped out she too was thrilled with the awesomeness of the second pitch of Cruise Control.




I think Cruise Control is one of the best moderate climbs in the Gunks. The first pitch is great, and the second is stupendous. If you are cool with the 5.9 climbing on pitch one then the runout on pitch two through easier territory shouldn't bother you too much. But I do think Dick's 5.8 G rating for the second pitch is misleading. It should be something like 5.8 G (5.6+ R).




When we finished Cruise Control it was already mid-afternoon and we figured that including time spent packing up and walking, it would be at least another hour and a half before we'd reach the car. We thought about trying to do one more pitch but decided to call it a day instead. This turned out to be the right call, as I was really drooping by the time we finished the hike back to civilization. After four pitches of climbing and three hours of hiking I was exhausted. Gail was still hiking strong. I could barely keep up with her. I need to toughen up, I think.




I was so satisfied with the climbing we did at Millbrook. Getting to the cliff may be inconvenient, but the isolation gives the place a special atmosphere and a solitude you just can't get at the other cliffs. On this beautiful Sunday, while the other cliffs were surely overrun with gumbies (and I mean no offense to all of you gumbies out there), Gail and I were the only people climbing at Millbrook all day.




I hope it doesn't take me a year or more to go back.There are several other climbs I'm dying to try. Maybe I've got the Millbrook bug.