More Blackberries

After breakfast we decided to take a walk around the large yard that Paddy calls home. It was so pretty and green and there was one of northwestern Oregon's light, misty rains sprinkling on us. But that didn't stop us from exploring the huge blackberry patch to find the fruit that Jim had missed earlier. For once I had my fill of fresh blackberries.
Of course you have to fight the birds and deer for them. But that is part of the fun.

Early Morning Photos

Unfun

Pray.

Keep all your fingers and toes crossed.

Send out all good thoughts to me today.

I'm working on the dreaded taxes.

Mount Rainier :: Wow! Perfect Timing, Again!

Wednesday, September 15th - - After leaving the visitor center at Paradise late yesterday afternoon, I drove over to the southeast side of the Mount Rainier National Park and stayed at the campground at Ohanapecosh. I woke up early this morning and, in the hopes that the mountain would once again be out, decided to go to the Sunrise area on the northeast side, about an hours drive.

The campground was sheltered beneath a canopy of tall trees and it was hard to tell what the weather was really like. Leaving the campground I was disappointed to find the sky blanketed by gray clouds. But one thing I've learned about western Washington in my brief stay here is that just because the weather is lousy “here” doesn't mean it will be “there” too!

Half an hour after leaving the campground, I was ecstatic when I rounded a curve and there was Mt. Rainier! Rather gray in the early morning gloom, but there it was!

In the next 15 minutes, the mountain could be seen in several places and each vista presented a slightly different view. The road then went on the side away from Rainier and I could see that the sun would soon break through the clouds. The road twisted and turned and the going was agonizingly slow but after another 20 minutes I was at Sunrise Point.

From there on the views were absolutely stunning, especially whenever the sun decided to make an appearance.

A few minutes later, I was at the nearly empty parking lot of the Sunrise visitor center, which was closed for the season as was the Ranger Station. I strolled along one of the numerous trails, intending to walk for half an hour or so. But it was such a beautiful day and the mountain was mesmerizing. My short walk ended up being more than three hours long.

Looking north from the Sourdough Ridge Trail. (Double-click on this one to open the larger image - it's worth the extra clicks...)

Another view, looking north, from the Sourdough Ridge Trail.
The valley between Sourdough Ridge and Mt Rainier. The road is a gravel service road. There were workers out doing maintenance on some of the trails.

I walked to the other side of Burroughs Mountain (the ridge running in front of Mt Rainier). There was a trail that went up there with a view of Frozen Lake. I started up it but turned around after realizing it would take more time and energy than I could muster.

At times, the mountain seemed so close. Like I could reach out and touch it.
Why doesn't that snow fall? What is holding it up there? How deep is it?
To return to the parking lot, I took another trail, which went down into the valley. There weren't as many views of the mountain but the stillness and peacefulness were almost overwhelming.

Upon reaching the parking lot I decided to go down one more trail. A short one, less than half a mile round-trip, to Emmons Vista. Probably one of the most-photographed views of Rainier, just because it is so close to the visitors center.

Less than an hour later, you guessed it, the gray clouds had moved back in and the sun had taken its leave. And so did I.

Cycling Fever?

I had this question when I first began doing strenuous rides and recently someone asked me the same thing: Is it normal to run a fever after cycling?



The short answer is: Yes. It happens to some people. Not to all, but to some. I am one of them, and I now know a few others who experience this with regularity - always have. The evening after a strenuous ride, I will often run a fever and might even develop a sore throat. While it's happening it can feel very much like the flu. But the next morning all symptoms will be gone, so it is not a case of actually getting sick.



My understanding is that this is a normal reaction that some people simply have to certain types of exertion. It may have to do with how our bodies engage in muscle repair. Or it may have to do with circulation issues. No one seems certain, but it does happen.



Regardless of how or why it happens, I have noticed there are things I can do to alleviate it. For instance: takinga hot shower or bath after a ride, takingan NSAID oracetaminophen concoction, eatingwarm "comfort food" such as soup or scrambled eggs, drinking lots of fluids, and tryingto get as much physical rest as possible.Basically treating it like the flu works for me. It dulls the symptoms while they are happening, so that I can still be productive with the rest of my evening. And the next day I feel good as new - only the muscle soreness remains.



If you experience fever or flu-like symptoms after strenuous cycling, how do you deal with it?

Safer, safe and ‘less dangerous’

Claire after her skydive yesterday. Not looking too scared

I was just listening to Amartya Sen explaining on radio about his ideas about justice in the world, and his way of looking at this aspect of humanity struck me as just as relevant in another.

His thesis in the world of justice is that we should think in a more pragmatic, and less idealist way in order to achieve the best possible outcome for people. Specifically he has the idea that we pour a huge amount of energy trying to solve completely particular injustices, with the intended outcome being to make them 100% ‘just’. But, he says, the ideal of a perfectly just scenario often remains out of reach. Instead, if we first seek out the biggest and deepest injustices, and measure success against their starting points, rather than against the ideal finishing point of perfect justice, we will end up increasing overall justice by a larger amount. So the focus on scrubbing out the last remains of stubborn injustice becomes not just a black hole for our resources, but a distraction from deeper injustice elsewhere.

It struck me that this parallels closely recent arguments about risk in life and society. Economics right now is teaching popular society a lot about the importance of risk. Namely that pursuing the ideal of eliminating risk is actually harmful to economies, just as very risky and unstable situations are. Similarly, a statistical perspective minus the blinkers of a ratings driven media such as this book on the risks we face highlights some of the ridiculous situations we find ourselves in when we attempt to eliminate tiny risks (such as terrorism) and allow these to completely distract us from huge risks elsewhere.

Amartya’s idea projected onto risk makes a lot of sense to me and to me reflects closely the decision making process I’ve aspired to in the risky climbing I do. Other climbing bloggers thoughts recently (such as Dougald and Will’s) have reminded us well that believing in complete safety in climbing will always prove a fallacy. So it’s important to try not to be distracted by making tiny risks tinier, if larger ones lie ignored in the background (and they often do in my opinion).

A common example that often worries me when listening to other climbers discourse on safety is a fascination with the fine details of climbing equipment systems. Nothing wrong with that whatsoever, so long as it’s seen in context of the whole picture of climbing safety, which is often isn’t. The trouble is that our safety systems relating to climbing equipment are only one link in a chain of factors that determine how much risk we face when climbing.

The ‘soft’ skills (I hate the term but can’t immediately think of a replacement) of our tactics, decision making and movement skill on rock, ice or mountains are the other, larger part, and they often suffer relative ignorance.

A more specific example; Out of the climbers I know who onsight E6 or harder, I can't think of any who aren’t expert at downclimbing (out of trouble). Why? Quite simply, having this skill allows you to go with far less danger where it would be hideously dangerous to rely solely on ‘up’ climbing ability and safety equipment. In contrast, the trad climber’s I know who’ve suffered a series of confidence destroying serious falls are more often than not poor at climbing down out of scary situations. I’ve had a million climbers ask me all sorts of weird and wonderful questions about the fine points of equipment, and strategies for it’s use, and it often shocks them when I don’t always know an answer. But I can’t recall ever being asked about downclimbing.

Important things are often at the mercy of things less important. Looking for dangerous things to make less dangerous will often be more successful than looking for anything to make perfectly safe.

Inflight Entertainment

Leaving for Austria again, I bought the new Bike Snob book to read on the plane in hopes of distracting myself from my terror of flying. I like the BikeSnobNYC blog, but what made me buy the book was Grant Petersen's review on Rivendell's website. I have to admit that I am a sucker for Grant Petersen's writing and find myself reading all sorts of things he wrote that I have no interest in, just for the narration. If he wrote a 2-page description of bathroom tiles, I'd probably read it. His enticing endorsement of the book put me over the edge.

And if this isn't proof of the existence of the Collective Unconscious, I don't know what is: No sooner did I stuff Bike Snob into my carry-on, then mention of me appeared on his blog. Scroll down to the bit about the Boston Globe story on sweat stains and fabrics with patterns. Right...

Bike Snob proved useful during my flight, as I was seated between two mothers with babies on their laps. The babies not only wailed for the duration of the flight, but now and again would reach out to pull my hair, poke my eye, or chew on my jacket. Noticing this, the mothers would smile at me generously - as if to say: "As a female of childbearing age, surely you must be delighted at the opportunity to interact with babies!" Trying not to start wailing myself, I took deep breaths and concentrated on Bike Snob.

If I had to use one word to describe the book it would be "heartwarming". It is gently humorous, and reading it feels like wrapping yourself in a warm and fuzzy sweater with cute little patterns of bicycles all over it. Though Bike Snob argues that there is no such thing as "bike culture," he contradicts himself by creating a sense of one - to the extent of even referring to cyclists as a distinct breed of people. He also contradicts himself by railing against the fetishisation of the cycling experience, only to go on and fetishise the heck out of it himself in later chapters. I am pretty certain that these contradictions are intentional, meant to illustrate his own hopeless love for bicycles and to demonstrate that he too is susceptible to the very things he mocks.

As for the contents, they are surprisingly straightforward. The chapters address such topics as bicycle history, bicycle ownership, bicycle maintenance, and road rules. There is also a part on "Velo-Taxonomy" where he categorises cyclists into various types and explains the differences in detail. According to his taxonomy, I would be a hybrid between the "Retrogrouch", the "Lone Wolf", and the "Beautiful Godzilla" (though the only thing in common I have with the latter is the type of bicycle I ride).

The Bike Snob book is generously illustrated, in a manner that evokes Kurt Vonnegut's Breakfast of Champions and Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's The Little Prince. The design and layout make the pages almost seem edible. In a way, the presentation can be described as having a pre-packaged "cult status feel." Whether the book will actually attain cult status, only time will determine.

In other velo-news I can report from my travels, I saw these neat bicycles during my layover in Frankfurt Airport. These bikes have fenders, dynamo hub lighting, a the double-legged kickstand, a bell, a Basil front basket, a Pletscher rear rack, Schwalbe tires, and what appear to be license plates. From what I could tell, they are for the airport employees and not for flight passengers. Too bad, I would have liked to ride one around the airport!