The Dream? The Adventure!

I don't know what climbing, specifically alpine climbing, means to anyone including myself. I can no more tell you why climbing is so important and good for me than I can tell you how the universe was created or what "life" is.


But I know it started as a dream, a wish for adventure and a ability to comprehend what I saw in nature as something more than just special.

No matter what I climb, the type of terrain or how much I enjoy the moment it is all related to being in the mountains eventually and alpine climbing.

I get teased sometimes about my obvious boot fetish. Couple of things happened recently to bring me back to the original "dream", cold feet and why my desire of wanting to climb so badly.

The boot fetish is based on the reality of spending a lot of time out doors as a young kid. My parents hunted, fished and skied. Of course all that slowed down when they had kids..at least until we (the kids) could walk. And by walking I don't think we had to be able to walk far before we were off on their adventures. From my childhood I remember three things from those adventures, cold feet, how I liked heights when everyone else got scared and how much fun it was to be in the snow.

So the boot fetish should be easy to understand. I had cold feet from day one!

In the late 1950's the lookout shown above was the first place I remember seeing, and others talking about, climbing. I can remember my Dad walking with me out to the lookout and back hand in hand on that set of stairs. I was in the 2nd grade. Imagine my surprise to find out the Needles had its, "first recorded technical climbing is April 1970, Fred Beckey, Dan McHale, Mike Heath climbed the South Face of the Warlock, an 8 pitch climb rated 5.9." That ascent is of course a a full ten years after me seeing climbers in the Needles.

The view of the Needles from the lookout.


That was 50 years ago and I still get a thrill remembering the journey. It was another 10 years before I was to actually climb. But not because of a lack of desire. As I aged I remembered the thrill of that simple visit to the Lookout and the awe I had for the guys climbing on the rocks.

Learning to ski held my attention as did dirt bikes, basketball, football, bicycles, guns, knives and swimming. In the late '60s and early '70s our high school library carried a French magazine called "Paris Match" and even though I was taking French I couldn't read much of it. But, my Oh my, the pictures! Rene Desmaison made me WANT to be a alpine climber. Add a subscription to National Geographic my Grandmother gave at Chrismas every year since I was born (really, since I was born) and how could I not WANT to climb :)


" Readers of Paris Match read his dramatic reports and a radio audience measured in millions shivered with him during a live broadcast caught in a storm on the north face of the Grandes Jorasses......

In the 1960s when many of the so-called “last great problems” in the Alps were being addressed, Desmaison played a leading part in solving them. One attempt on the unclimbed Central Pillar of Freney, high on the Brenva face of Mont Blanc, became a France v Britain race. A team including Chris Bonington, Ian Clough and Don Whillans had a day's lead and were attempting the difficult overhanging crux of the climb when a group led by Desmaison appeared, attempting the same pillar by a nearby line. Bonington recalled that the corner crack they were trying to climb was too wide for their pitons but too small for the protective wooden wedges they were carrying. A request to the French for suitable gear met a firm and not unreasonable “non”, as the same gear was needed on their own route. Bonington and Whillans persevered, overcame the crux and dropped a rope to the rest of their team which the French then asked to use to ascend the difficult pitches. The rope was left, but seemingly failed to find a mention in French accounts of the climb.

Desmaison's closest brush with death came in the winter of 1971 attempting a new route on the Grandes Jorasses. With Serge Gousseault, a newly qualified Chamonix guide, the two climbers became trapped by violent storms sweeping the mountain face. After six days of slow, difficult climbing the weather had closed in. They reached a summit cornice, an overhanging lip of snow and ice, only a short distance from safety but were unable to move, hanging from pitons in a festoon of ropes. Rescue helicopters twice arrived above them but failed to understand Desmaison's signals for help. On the 12th day Gousseault froze to death and it was two days later that Desmaison, near death himself from cold and dehydration, was air- lifted to safety. Two years later he returned and completed the climb, once more arriving on the summit in a storm. "
René Desmaison, French mountaineer, guide, author and film-maker, was born on April 14, 1930. He died on September 28, 2007, aged 77

So between Desmaison and Gaston Rebuffat, another French Alpinist with a penchant for photography, writing and good climbs I was hooked long before I ever owned an ice axe.

Skiing, when I started, most still used leather boots. And the boots could be used for walking as required as well as skiing. Not cutting edge technology by any means even then but a whole lot of fun. Not a lot of difference between skiers and climbers then from my limited perspective.

Then while in high school our family moved to a little town just east of Mt. Adams. From our new home you could see Mt Hood, Mt Adams, St Helens, and of course Mt Rainier!

Now I just had to learn how to climb mountains! Of course I had no clue just how much mountains and climbing would come to influence the rest of my life.

A duplicate of my first "climbing" boots, age 14. Army surplus, alpine troop, ski and mtn boot. Bought in Lewiston Idaho with paper route money shortly before seeing Mt. Hood up close for the first time.

That was my start. Yours?

National Character

While many countries are rich in bicycle heritage, some have particularly strong associations with distinct styles of bikes: the Netherlands with the omafiets and the bakfiets, France with the mixte, porteur and randonneur, England with the roadster and the elaborately lugged "lightweight," Italy with the Frascona curve and the racing bike, the US with the cruiser and the mountain bike. Far from arbitrary, these connections can be revealing about the history and the cultural values of the country where each design developed, and this aspect is always interesting for me.





Some connections are obvious, while others more subtle. Why for instance, did some countries (England, Holland) favour the loop frame design for step-through bicycles, while the swan frame is the dominant design in others (Sweden, Austria)? Did it have to do with women's fashions at the time these bicycles were developed?What accounts for the development of low trail vs mid/high-trail geometry and the tradition to carry luggage on the front vs on the rear? There is nothing I can think of that is country-specific that would explain this. And what about the early preference of derailleurs to internally geared hubs in France, even on city bicycles? Things like this are constantly going through my mind when I look at different bicycles and think about their history.






When it comes to building bicycles today, the national characteristics of a particular design continue to play a role, while also meshing with other traditions. European manufacturers have used American mountain bikes for inspiration. American builders and manufacturers have used Dutch bikes and French porteurs for inspiration. The end product inevitably reflects an interesting mix of historical traditions and cultural values.







As I was working on, then riding, and then writing about the Randonneur over the past 8 months, I keep thinking how interesting it was that this old French design is now thriving (relatively speaking of course) in the US, with fairly minor modifications from the original. I suppose it makes sense: There is lots of land here, lots of places to travel, and Americans value speed - hence the growing popularity of randonneuring. Add to that the custom bicycle boom, and suddenly American framebuilders - for whom only three years ago "clearance for wide tires" meant 28mm - are building 650Bx40mm bikes with elaborate custom racks and cantilever brake bosses - an entirely normal feature now thanks to the popularity of cyclocross.Since American culture is a mish-mash of other traditions, it seems only natural that US builders are inspired by French, or Italian, or Dutch bikes. But what about a country with a very distinct tradition of its own?Can you see a low trailrandonneuring bicycle made by an English builder, or is that too strange? I've been discussing a possible project with Mercian Cycles, and if it works it could be interesting in that respect. The national character of bicycles is increasingly fluid and playful, and some traditions are kept alive through other countries' takes on them.

Bunchberry Field

The other day we spent the afternoon on the Gunflint Trail in search of wildflowers and Moose. Thanks to my friend Bryan Hansel (www.bryanhansel.com) and a recent post of his on Facebook, I knew the general area where to look for a nice big patch of Bunchberry. They were easy to find since they were very close to the road and it was probably the largest patch of Bunchberry that I've ever seen. Photographing them proved to be quite a challenge, though, as the bugs were awful. I felt like I was getting eaten alive by mosquitoes and little black flies. It was a pretty cloudy evening so I was thrilled when a break in the clouds presented itself and the sun shone through for a few minutes, allowing me to capture this nice starburst of the sun through the trees.

Monument Valley

Monument Valley is probably the most well-known spot in the southwest. Practically everyone alive today has most likely seen images and/or video from Monument Valley, whether they realize it or not. Many western movies have been filmed at this location and photos from Monument Valley are often used when it comes to promoting the southwest to tourists.



It certainly is a beautiful place and a worthy stop for any traveler, especially photographers. If you want to explore the valley beyond the scenic drive, however, you'll need to hire a Navajo guide. You can drive your own vehicle around the scenic loop which has views of the main features of the valley, but you cannot stray from the scenic loop road if you are on your own. These images were all captured from the scenic drive, as I chose not to go with a Navajo guide... although someday I would like to hire a guide to get some local insight into the area. I chose not go with a guide because of time and because of the conditions. If I was going to hire a guide I would like for it to be a nicer day, so I could enjoy it more.



It was very windy during my visit, with dust and sand blowing everywhere. I had been considering staying at the new Navajo hotel right in the valley, but with the conditions the way they were I decided to head further down the road.

(Above and below: There are some very interesting views approaching the valley from the surrounding highway.)

Danny Boy

When we moved to the US in the early '90s, I promptly started junior high school in a small New England town. The first thing I remember about walking into the classroom, was the shock of green cardboard shamrocks strung up all over the walls and a large banner declaring "Erin Go Bragh." (That's not how you spell it, a friend from Cork would later wrinkle her nose. But never mind.) Our teacher was fiercely Irish, as were at least half of the students. Second or third generation mainly, and, truth be told, most of them ethnically mixed. But Irish identities had a way of dominating in those days - when the economic boom had not yet hit the Emerald Isle, when South Boston still had romantic notoriety, and when House of Pain's Jump Around played several times a day on MTV.Most chose to express this identity through visual iconology: shamrocks, leprechauns, bright kelly green, friendship rings, and abundant use of faux-celtic fonts. But soon fate brought the opportunity to also express it musically.



In those days, our school had a rather famousa cappellachoir, led by our passionate and popular music teacher, Mr. McKenna. It wasn't just anyone who could join this elite group. There were limited spots. The annual tryouts involved weeks of preparation from hopefuls and bitter tears from those who did not make it. But those of us who made it... my goodness, we felt special. In the mornings, we went to choir practice instead of home room.We wore beautiful uniforms.We stood side by side, in a tight formation on metal risers. Labeled a strong Soprano, I still remember my place: 3rd row, 5th from the right. Our choir recorded albums. Our choir preformed in competitions and won. Once a year we even travelled to compete in the national finals, inevitably returning with medals.



We were one of the best, Mr. McKenna would tell us, again and again, beaming at our fresh-scrubbed teenage faces, our teary eyes and our chapped lips from hours of singing. And we were one of the best because we worked at it. Because we rehearsed until each piece was perfect. And if it wasn't perfect (his face would turn serious now, almost stormy), we did not perform it. Not at a local Christmas concert, and certainly not at competition. Was that understood by each and every one of us? It was.



The national finals happened in May. Competing choirs would select their performance pieces in September, then spend the entire school year rehearsing them. The year I entered the 8th grade, Mr. McKenna gathered us to announce the competition selection with an air of festivity: For our main piece, we would be singing Danny Boy. As he distributed the sheet music, it was clear that the piece was very, very dear to him.



With tears in his eyes, Mr. McKenna talked about Ireland. How beautiful it was and how special his visit there with his wife and children had been - a place where his great grandfather had once lived and farmed.Later, as we struggled with the song, he talked about visualising the glens and imagining Danny Boy's plight. We tried our best, although most of us did not know what glens were exactly.



It was a beautiful, but complicated piece. Or maybe the arrangement Mr. McKenna had chosen was complicated, his judgment clouded by a reverence for the song's Irishness. Overly nuanced harmonies, notes held too long for our young lungs, sharp transitions from low notes to high. We were a good choir, but we were amateurs. We were a motivated bunch of kids, but we only had so much energy to give, after our classes and homework and turbulent teenage love-lives.



In fairness, we were doing fine with Danny Boy. We were getting there. But for Mr. McKenna's liking, we were not getting there fast enough. So he panicked, and he pushed us. With passionate pep talks and hours of extra rehearsals, he pushed and he pushed. He pushed until the melody of Danny Boy began to sound like nails against a chalkboard to our ears. He pushed until the lyrics lost all meaning and each repetition felt like a seizure-induced loop. He pushed until, instead of inspiring a breakthrough, Mr. McKenna broke our spirits.



Having come down with the flu, I did not join the choir in that year's finals. I did not witness the mass hysteria and weeping after, for the first time in its 12 year history, our choir failed to earn a medal at the competition. I only saw my peers' dejected faces when they returned home empty handed. I only saw the careless wrinkles in their uniforms at our next local performance and the way they slouched on the risers, with Mr. McKenna not bothering to chide us for either transgression.



We never talked about it. But deep down we all connected our choir's fall from grace with this attempt at a perfect rendition of Danny Boy. The piece was simply too personal, too precious for Mr. McKenna; he gave in to the rawness of his emotions and lost perspective. The following year, when I was already in high school, we heard that Mr. McKenna stepped down as music teacher and moved away. We were told he had health problems, and there were whispers of a nervous breakdown. It was not until years later that we learned he divorced his wife of 30 years and married one of his former students (by then a high school graduate, aged 19), which prompted parents to call for his resignation.



I have not thought about any of this in years. But I think about it now, in the mornings, as I lock up my bike in the town center of Limavady, Northern Ireland. There is a contemporary sculpture next to the cafe where I like to work. It is vaguely glen-shaped, in an abstract sort of way, and engraved with the lyrics to Danny Boy. Across the street is the colourful Corner Bar, its walls painted with murals containing more references to the song. And a helpful inscription explains the connection: "It was in Limavady that the famous melody 'Danny Boy' was noted down by Jane Ross from a tune played by a blind street fiddler named Jimmy McCurry." The original name of the melody was actually Londonderry Air, written byEnglishman Frederic Weatherly. But never mind. It's been 20 years since I sang Danny Boy and I still remember the lyrics.

Smelling Spring

Trying to smell spring out the window and trying a bite of a flower, plus just being silly kitties.

Anniversary Celebration

This year we got to celebrate our wedding anniversary here in The Villages. Which means we did not have to go far or work hard to make it a fun day. We started out with a lazy morning, hanging out at the house with Ava. Then we headed out to Spanish Springs for a movie.



I have wanted to see "The Heat" since I saw a movie promo a few months ago when we were in Virginia. I love Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy is really funny too. I was hoping this would be as funny as it looked in the trailers. I'm happy to report that it was. Nathan is a hard sell when it comes to comedy and he said as we left, "Most movies have some funny parts. That movie was funny the entire movie". So I guess that means we both gave it two thumbs up.



After the movie, we walked around the Square for a bit, headed over to the Ay Jalisco for a plate of chicken nachos and then drove over to Orange Blossom so Nathan could see the houses over there. I am telling him how much I would enjoy having a house here. He is ignoring me so far!



Next we headed south to the Havana Country Club. I heard about this place online, but then had a first hand recommendation while sitting on the bench at pickleball yesterday morning. The woman who had visited there said the food was ok but the experience was really unique. They have a singing waitstaff there. So we invited Rich and Donna and made reservations to see if it was as neat as she said.



We were seated right away when we entered and I noticed we were right next to the piano, which I was hoping meant we would be in the middle of the entertainment. As it turns out, the waiters and waitresses moved around while singing, so there was not a bad seat in the house. So how was it? I'm happy to report that this place was another win! We all enjoyed it, including the guys. Our waitress, Veronica, was wonderful. We all enjoyed our food. It was much better than ok. And the singing was top notch, with some very talented people entertaining us.



Donna has nice pictures and descriptions of the food on her blog here: Florida Picklers The portions were big enough that I brought home half my meal, to enjoy for lunch the next day. It was loud while the singers were performing, but there were breaks in between songs, so dinner conversation was still possible. I really enjoyed our time there and it made it a nice treat for our anniversary.



While we were leaving, I was snapping pictures of the outside when a gentleman asked if I was trying to get a picture of him. I told him that I sure was, so he posed for me.



The rest of his party was as amused by him as I was. What a fun group!



We had a wonderful day, and it was made even better by sharing it with special friends. Happy Anniversary honey! Here's hoping for many more years together!

On the road to Cayo Coco: Cow traffic and the toilet from hell

So now that Santiago de Cuba is behind us we are an experience richer!



Our next destination in the agenda is Cayo Coco—the islands or the keys. This is where the famous Cuban beaches are located, in the eastern part of Cuba. We will be staying in a 4-star beach resort.



The drive from Santiago de Cuba to Cayo Coco is about 7 hours. We will be making 2 stops.



Cow Traffic: Mooooo!









While on the road, we saw cows joining lazily in the traffic. The biggest hazard in driving in Cuba are animals that think the highways are their domain. I have a horrifying animal encounter on the road story to share later.









And then we saw the usual scenery on the Cuban highways.



The Toilet from Hell



Then we have to make the necessary stop—our FIRST stop nearby Holguin, because nature called us to do THE deed. We’ve probably driven about 2-3 hours already.







This is the roadside café restaurant that we had the stopover. And because nature called us to stop here we proceeded to their toilet.







The toilet from HELL! EWWWW. The picture did not do justice, the toilet was really so bad in person.



When I saw this, I was speechless and my body hairs were literally standing! Goosebumps. I wanted to run away but I realised that I am a girl scout (and Blondine as well) who deals with the situation at hand. So I held my breath, make sure I balance myself well without touching anything (so gross!) and just stared at the ceiling (because I don’t want to see the hell around me) while doing the deed. UGH.



I was so proud of myself after. I did it!!!







Back at the café restaurant we bought some soda. Yep, this is a cafeteria in Cuba.











And we saw some locals stopping by as well for drinks and some socialising.



It is now time to go back driving and be on the road. We still have another 4 hours to reach Cayo Coco. Wish us the best!

Jonas Joslin :: 1840 Ohio Census

Several years ago I found Jonas Joslin in the 1840 census in Delaware County, Ohio - by viewing the microfilm and looking through all of the pages for Liberty Township. Luckily there are only a few pages for Liberty Township.

A recent search of the online index at ancestry.com for the 1840 Ohio census for "Josl*" turned up eight results. Jonas Joslin was not among them and there was no "Joslin" family listed in Delaware County, Ohio.

Jonas Joslin is indexed as 'Jonas Joflin' in the ancestry index. I finally found him in the index by searching for first name of Jonas and last name blank in Delaware County, Ohio. A correction has been submitted to ancestry to aid others in finding him.


Liberty Township, Delaware County, Ohio - Page ?? I have "30" written in my notes, probably from the microfilm. The ancestry image has "0100" stamped along the right side. There is "186" written in the upper right corner but it is crossed through. It is Image 3 of 6 for Liberty Township.

In the 1850 census, Jonas Sr. is listed as head of the household with Jonas Jr. and his family in residence. Based on that, I've made the assumption that in 1840, Jonas Sr. was the head of household and Jonas Jr. and his family resided with him. But I could be wrong ;-) Ruth, the wife of Jonas Sr. had passed away on August 27, 1830.

The probable household of Jonas Joslin in 1840:

• 1 male under 5 [1836-1840... William, son of Jonas Jr., born 1836]
• 1 male 10-14 [1826-1830... John, son of Jonas Jr., born 1828]
• 1 male 30-39 [1801-1810... Jonas Jr. born 1807]
• 1 male 60-69 [1771-1780... Jonas, Sr. born 1769]
• 3 females 5-9 [1831-1835... 3 daughters of Jonas Jr., Lucretia, Nancy and Jane]
• 2 females 30-39 [1801-1810... Fanny, daughter of Jonas Sr., born 1810, and Lucy, wife of Jonas Jr., born 1807]

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...

Your feet!

This is likely one of the most important blogs I will write on Cold Thistle.



I figure if you are reading this blog you are into climbing. All sorts of climbing, rock, ice and snow. That meansbeing out 12 months of the year on you feet besides just the climbing.



If you are like me, enough miles and you eventually get injured. Major or minor injuries have a way of adding up. Something I didn't really believe when i was 18 and now realise just how wrong I was on that myopic perspective.



"The human foot is one of the best-engineered parts of the body.



Each foot has 33 joints, eight arches, 26 bones, more than a hundred muscles, ligaments, and tendons that all work together to distribute body weight and allow movement. Unfortunately, many people pay no attention to their feet – until they start to hurt.



Foot disorders must be diagnosed and treated early, before they become very painful and incapacitating. In some cases, some painful foot abnormalities are already warning signs of even more serious ailments such as diabetes, circulatory disorders, and nerve problems. Do a self-check while it’s early.."





It looks like this pair of feetwill be loosing 5 out of 10 toe nails. Likely the result of a combination of running andclimbing abuse?







Few things will really slow you down in the mountains. Knees will. But everyone who has had a bad blister on their foot will acknowledge just how disabled you can be when you feet start hurting.



Staying mobile will keep you climbing in one fashion or another. There are other joints that will slow you down but the ones that seem to most easily effect us are the feet, and knees.



If you look the first set of feetwith the taped toe, picturedabove with the title, the thing most obvious is the over size joint at the ball of the foot, base of the big toe. It is called a Bunion.Sad as it seems , your feetchange over time and generally get bigger. Bunions can behereditary, but for climbers it can exacerbatedbyabuse of long walks, tight rock shoes, or rigid soled boots.



I replaced several pairs of perfectly good winter boots last year for just those reasons. Capsulitis of the second toe, Hallux Abducto Valgus (bunions) and a few other issues of simply wear, tear and age means bigger boots and prescription orthotics to slow the progression.If left unattended you will end up with some seriously damaged feet and a long termloss of mobility. Below is a good sized bunion on the left footand hammer toes on the right foot..







Here is a look at just a few of the common foot issues climbers (or anyone might) have. Do your self a favor and take a look at your own feet. Address the issues sooner than later.







"Plantar Fasciitis When there is increased stress on the arch, microscopic tears can occur within the plantar fascia, usually at its attachment on the heel. This results in inflammation and pain with standing and walking and sometimes at rest. It usually causes pain and stiffness on the bottom of your heel.

Bunion







An enlargement on the side of the foot near the base of the big toe (hallux). The enlargement is made up of a bursa (fluid filled sac) under the skin. The term bunion is also commonly used to describe a structural (bony) deformity called hallux abducto valgus (HAV). Bunions can be painful and can be aggravated by activity and wearing tight shoes.



Neuroma



In the foot, a neuroma is a nerve that becomes irritated and swells up. If the nerve stays irritated, it can become thickened which makes the nerve larger and causes more irritation. Pain from a neuroma is usually felt on the ball of your foot.



Corns & Callouses



Corns and callouses are areas of thick, hard skin. They usually develop due to rubbing or irritation over a boney prominence. The hard, thick skin is called a corn if it is on your toe and it is called a callous if it is somewhere else on your foot.



Toenail Fungus (onychomycosis)



Fungi like a warm, moist and dark environment (like inside a shoe). A fungal infection in your toenails may cause the nails to become discolored, thickened, crumbly or loose. There are different causes and it is difficult to treat due to the hardness of the toenail.



Ingrown Toenail (onychocryptosis)







An ingrown toenail can occur for various reasons. The sides or corners of the toenail usually curve down and put pressure on the skin. Sometimes the toenail pierces the skin and then continues to grow into the skin. This may cause redness, swelling, pain and sometimes infection.



Hammer Toes



A hammer toe is also sometimes referred to as a claw toe or mallet toe. It involves a deformity of the toe where there is an imbalance in the pull of the tendons. Either the tendon on top of the toe pulls harder or the tendon on the bottom of the toe pulls harder. This results in a curling up of the toe.



Plantar Warts (plantar verucca)



Plantar warts are caused by a virus. Plantar means bottom of the foot, but warts can occur other places on the foot and toes as well. Plantar warts can be painful depending on where they are located. Sometimes they are mistaken for callouses because layers of hard skin can build up on top of the wart.



Flat Feet (pes planus)



Just because you have flat feet does not mean you will have problems or pain. If you do have pain, there are various treatment options available. If you only have one foot that has a flat arch, it may be due to another problem and you should get it checked out.



Athlete's Foot (tinea pedis)



Athlete's foot is a common skin condition that can affect everyone, not just athletes. It is caused by a fungus. It may cause redness, itchiness, tiny bumps filled with fluid or peeling skin. It is most commonly located between the toes or on the bottom of the feet.



Achilles Tendonitis



Achilles tendonitis involves inflammation of the Achilles tendon. If the tendon stays inflamed long enough, it can lead to thickening of the tendon. Sometimes nodules or bumps can form in the tendon. Achilles tendonitis can become a long term problem or can lead to rupture of the tendon."





















Capsulitis of the second toe, (or any toe)



Hallux Abducto Valgus (bunions), hammer toe, onychocryptosis, and Plantar Fasciitis haveall plague this pair of feet. Much of the damageis a given from hereditary. But much of the damage could have been mitigated by the use of a prescription orthotic early on ( or even a well fitted off the shelf orthodic)and more carefully picking the approach and climbing footwear to be used.

Foot injuries and broken bones from martial arts,accidents,cold injurieswhile working, skiing and climbing,the use of overly tight rock shoes, and rigid soled alpine boots alladd to the long term damage. And slow recovery. But as much as anything your genes, your heredity, will have much to do with how your feet fair over time. That is luck of the draw. A good Podiatrist may be able to limit the damage or fix what you have been given.

More here on what to look for and avoid:

http://www.webmd.com/skin-problems-and-treatments/slideshow-common-foot-problems



Mountain boots?





I think there should be much more concern with several issues on mtn boots. Firstis the low quality generally worthless, insoles boots are delivered with today. I have $700 and $1000 production boots that come with insoles that sell for less than .10 cents a pair. Come on!

The other concern in recent boots is a super rigid sole and a very flexible ankle. Our feet don't work that way. You are bound to have feet issues with a bad insole and a dead rigid sole.