The Center of US

Saturday, May 7th - - The above sign is located on U.S. Highway 36 in north-central Kansas. Several miles northwest is the small, rather desolate and forlorn looking town of Lebanon and a little further to the northwest of Lebanon is the Geographic Center of the Contiguous United States.





Going up... on Kansas 191



And over. At the end of the road is “The Center” of the U.S.



This new little chapel seats four. The original was destroyed in .. by a speeding car.



The official marker denotes the spot.



The flag really needs to be replaced. A strong wind was blowing as I'm guessing it does much of the time.





Lebanon has souvenirs?

Pickleball Tournament at Chesapeake Thousand Trails

Today we played in the pickleball tournament here. Michelle and Mike Roberts hosted it and I thought they did a great job. I have to tell you, we've played pickleball coast to coast in Thousand Trails parks now and nobody quite plays like the crowd here does. They have fun at it, no matter what. So it wasn't surprising to me that the tournament was fun too.

This tournament was played differently than pickleball tournaments usually are. Because of that, by the end of the tournament, we all ended up being in a different bracket.

I'll have to do different posts for each, because it will be too much to fit into one.

Getting My Groove Back!

Finally, oh finally! Today I felt like myself on my bike again. Not watching my speed. Not watching for black ice. Not getting off every couple of blocks to drag the poor bike across a snowbank or to cross a tricky intersection in order to make a left turn. While Spring has not fully sprung yet, winter is definitely gone and the roads are clear. So what if it's raining and there isn't a green leaf or flower in sight (other than on my tights)?I got my cycling groove back!



Taking it nice and slow on the Gazelle since the snow began to fall in December, I'd almost forgotten how awesome this bicycle feels to ride when I really push it. Though heavy, it accelerates wonderfully and moves fluidly with my body. It is tremendous fun to cycle 17mph on this gorgeous beast - steering with my hips and leaning into turns with abandon - sometimes to the amazed looks of passers-by and fellow cyclists. Oh my 50lb flying machine, how I've missed these good times!



And if you're wondering how I know that I can go 17mph on the Gazelle, it's thanks to the Co-Habitant's computer on his Pashley. Yes, he has computers both on his roadbike and on his transport bike, and when we ride together he likes to inform me of my speed. Although secretly pleased, I dutifully pretend to be annoyed. I mean, come on - a computer on a Pashley Roadster! What's next, bottle cages? Oh wait...



Well, as you can tell, I am in a fine mood. I had not fully realised until now how much cycling this winter had been stressing me out. While I am always vigilant when riding in traffic, the sort of hyper-vigilance the road conditions commanded over the past two months really did a number on my nerves. I guess for me, cycling is both stressful and tedious if I expect to have to execute emergency maneuvers at any moment. I wouldn't make a good bike messenger for sure.



Of course, one downside to the winter ending is that all the thick wool hats I've been making (that our apartment is now littered with) will soon have to be retired until the next cold season - but that is a small price to pay for getting my cycling groove back. It has been weird to keep up Lovely Bicycle for the past couple of months while doing only a minimal amount of cycling, and I felt almost fraudulent to be waxing lyrical about bicycle design and cycling-related issues while riding hardly 10 miles per week. Hopefully that is all in the past (that is, until next winter) and I will soon once again have the pleasure of boring you with descriptions of 40 mile rides on my roadbikes, trips to distant grocery stores, and discoveries of new-to-me lands.

Friends and Their Place in Our Life

This is a picture of our friends that visited us, on top of Cape Hatteras Lighthouse. I have to give a sincere thanks to them for their visit with us. We had such a wonderful, wonderful time with them. We truly just soaked up every minute we were them. It was interesting, it was easy to just spend time chatting about our lives with them and they were such grateful company when we extended even the slightest things their way. They honestly were just a joy to be around and we felt lucky to have them as guests. When they thanked us as they left, we said it was our privilege and we meant it.



Now that we have had the craziness of the hurricane, we see all the more how important our time with them was. They brought such joy and peace to us, and that carried us through our evacuation and the days to follow.



It has me pondering the role that friends hold in my life. The older I get, the more I realize that I get by not with just "a little help from my friends", but rather I get by with a lot of help from my friends. This past winter, I really realized that. While going through what we did, it gave me the gift of analyzing exactly what friendship is to me. It gave me the chance to evaluate what I want from my closest friends and why it was necessary to ask for that from someone that is a close friend of mine.



Barb has played a significant role in all of this for me. While I was sorting through one friendship in particular this past winter and sharing it all with Nathan, he wasn't quite understanding clearly what I was explaining to him. During this same time we met up with Barb and John for a few hours in Florida and as we left he said, I can see now why you are so frustrated with that friendship. Barb and your friends like her have spoiled you. They are such good friends to you, why would you want to settle for something that is so much less than what they are willing to give you?



And he was exactly right. I have friends like Barb that have set a higher standard in my life than I would have asked for myself, and they have shown me that I don't have to settle for friends that are only there when things are happy and fun if I don't want to. I am so grateful for that. It doesn't mean I don't still love the other friends in my life, just that I don't want to put as much time and energy there at this point in my life.



He said he was in awe at how well Barb knows who I am and how supportive she is of me being..well, me. I agree. I hope I give the same to her in return. Because at the end of the day, isn't that all you can really hope for in a friend-that they work at knowing the real you and appreciating the real you? Not to say my friends like Barb don't speak up when truth needs to be spoken to me. They do. Boy, do they sometimes! And they still love me and stick by me even then. Because I trust how much they do know me, I trust their input.



They also let me share honestly with what I see in their life without taking offense, even if they disagree. If something is a big deal to one of us, we don't downplay that or try to talk them out of seeing it that way. We let it be what it is to them. If someone is sad or depressed, we honor that as much as much as if they were happy and full of joy. We work at adjusting our behaviors where who we are is spilling over onto each other in ways that hurt or cause stress for the other, while still remaining true to who we are. And this particular group of women that I am talking about has managed to do this for about a decade now. I hope we are still there for each other for many more decades.



I value friendship far more than I ever did when I was younger. I wonder if that won't continue to be more and more true the older I get. I hope so, because when a friendship is a good one, it is a rare and precious thing.



Thank you, my friend, and all of you women in this particular circle of my friends. You all rock!

Gunks Routes: Beatle Brow Bulge (5.10a)

(Photo: Approaching the huge roof on Beatle Brow Bulge (5.10a).)



This past weekend was just beautiful. It was autumn at its best in the Hudson Valley, with crisp mornings, followed by moderate temperatures and abundant sunshine.



In other words: perfect climbing weather!



I was psyched to get out for a day with Adrian, especially since this was quite likely going to be my last Gunks day of . Two of the remaining three weekends in November are already booked up with family activities, and who knows what the weather will be like on my few remaining potential climbing days this month. Climbing in December is always a possibility, but a remote one. So this really could be it for the year.



As is the case every year, there is so much left undone.



But this has been a year of real accomplishment for me as a climber.



I got in better shape last winter and once the climbing season got under way I finally got my mojo back. I began to feel more like the climber I'd been in , before I broke my ankle in a climbing accident. This new/old me felt solid, confident, and hungry for harder climbs.



As I've chronicled here on my blog, I started leading 5.9 climbs in the Gunks again. I led a whole bunch of them this year, for the most part with great success. My goal was to become solid in 5.9, with the idea that I could go anywhere in the world and jump on a 5.9 and be sure that it would be well within my comfort zone.



I can't say I've quite reached that goal. The kind of climbing the Gunks offers is just too limited for that. Certainly my four days of climbing in the Adirondacks this year demonstrated to me that I'm not a solid 5.9 leader if the climbing involves vertical cracks and jamming. I'm sure that if I went to Yosemite, to cite another example, and tried to lead a typical Tuolumne 5.9-- featuring long runout slabs and oceans of fragile knobs-- I'd have my ass handed to me there as well.



But I feel good about the progress I've made in the Gunks on its brutish overhangs and thin face climbs. I've tried to keep stepping forward while at the same time being reasonable. I am convinced that you can make progress, climb hard, and still be careful. So far it all seems like it's making sense, most of the time.



I had another goal this year that I have not talked about so much.



I wanted to lead at least one Gunks 5.10 before the year was over.



I didn't necessarily care if I sent it onsight. It didn't have to go perfectly. I could take a fall, I figured, so long as I protected the hard moves well and kept things in control. Even if the climbing proved too difficult for me, if in the end I felt I'd done things right and protected myself well, then I'd regard the climb as a success and something I could build upon.



All year I had certain candidates in mind, climbs that had a reputation for being soft for 5.10 and for having good pro at the crux, like The Dangler or Wegetables, to name just two possibilities.



But as the year wore on I started to think I'd never really do it. And why push? This year's goal was 5.9. Why not make 5.10 the goal for next year?



Then a few weeks ago I went out climbing with my eight-year-old son Nate. We were climbing with another dad/son duo I met through my kids' school. The dad used to be a regular Gunks hardman and his son, who is Nate's age, is also into climbing. I thought if we all went out together it might inspire my son to get a little more interested in climbing. (Alas, it didn't work out that way. Nate gamely tried a few climbs, mostly just to humor me, but he was not converted.)



We were climbing at Lost City. I'd never been there before. After all these years it was nice to finally go out there and check the place out! I didn't get to try any of the legendary climbs there, because I was too busy setting up 5.4's for my son. But I saw something that really inspired me: a fourteen-year-old boy attempting to lead Stannard's Roof.



The young man actually lives in my apartment building, though we'd never met before. (Small world!) He'd spent a few weeks this summer at a rock climbing camp in Maine and had recently led his first 5.9's in the Gunks. But today he'd elected to try Stannard's Roof, which upped the ante significantly. The route is reputed to go at "easy" 5.10, and though the roof is very large-- it requires getting truly horizontal for a couple body lengths-- the holds are quite positive, or so I am told.



The boy couldn't do it. He made several efforts, getting up into the roof, placing good pro, then climbing down and resting. He repeatedly got up to his high point, decided he couldn't hang on, and came back down. Eventually he downclimbed to a fixed anchor and retreated.



Watching him, I was impressed with his good sense. He didn't just run it out and go for it. He wanted to do it right and in control. And when he knew he wasn't going to make it, he backed down.



His effort on Stannard's Roof reawakened my desire to hop on a 5.10 of my own. This kid was doing EXACTLY what I should be doing. I resolved to find a 5.10 like this, with good pro and clean falls, and get up into it. Whether I succeeded or failed, I knew it would be good for me.



So when Adrian and I got out last weekend I was determined to find the right 5.10. Ultimately I decided on Beatle Brow Bulge. It seemed like one of the easier 5.10 climbs. It was historically rated 5.9+ until Dick Williams boosted its rating to 5.10a in his 2004 guidebook. It seemed to me like strenuous climbing, but juggy and unmysterious. I'd just have to hang in there and keep moving. And it looked like I'd find good pro out the roof, so that any fall would be into the air.



Most of all the route just looked awesome. The roof is HUGE.





(Photo: Grabbing the holds under the roof on Beatle Brow Bulge (5.10a). The real business starts with the next step up.)



Dick Williams lists the climb as having a first pitch consisting of 50 feet of 5.3 climbing up to a stance beneath the roof. I didn't see any point in stopping half-way and decided in advance to just do the whole thing in one pitch.



As I approached the roof it seemed to get bigger and bigger. My main concern was where I would place pro. I wanted something in the roof, not below it. And I wanted the piece to be out several feet from the wall, so if I fell I wouldn't slam right into the cliff.



There is a big block that sticks out like a thumb below the roof level. This block has chalk all over it, although it is not a necessary handhold. (It is a very useful foothold once you're in the business.) It appears a # 2 Camalot would go nicely in the space between this block and the roof, but I decided against using this placement. I was worried about the rock quality. It appeared to me that this block may not be well attached to the cliff. The last thing I wanted was to send a death block the size of a microwave down on Adrian.



Instead I found a great spot for a yellow Alien. (A yellow Metolius or yellow C3 may also work.) The cam goes in just above the two crucial first handholds in the roof; the spot is right above where my right hand is in the above photo. I was able to place this cam before committing to the roof, and it gave me great peace of mind as I started the moves.





(Photo: Getting into the roof! My right foot is on the thumb/death block that I avoided placing pro behind.)



One step up and I was really into it, fully horizontal beneath the big ceiling. The hands and feet were great, but it was strenuous. Immediately I reached over my head and placed a perfect red Camalot at the lip of the roof. I wanted to extend it with a runner but I knew the clock was ticking and I had to get moving. So I just clipped it direct, hoping it was close enough to the lip that it wouldn't create too much drag. (It worked out fine.)



Once I made that clip, everything was going to be okay. It was a piece off of which you could hang a truck, and below me was a totally clean fall into air. I could hear Adrian yelling his approval. "Yeah! Now go!"



And so I went, for once totally in the flow of the moves and not even thinking about the consequences of blowing it. The holds are great; there are no devious sequences. It's strictly a matter of hanging in there and continuing to move upward.





(Photo: getting over the big roof.)



Once I was over the roof, the pumpiness of the route really set in. It was still quite steep and after I moved up and placed more pro I started to worry that I might pop off. I stepped up again and placed another cam, then tried to shake out a little.



I decided maybe I should take a hang, just to be safe.



"Adrian, can you take?" I shouted.



But Adrian wasn't having it. He didn't pull in the ropes.



"Really??" he yelled. "It looks like you're almost there! Don't you want to keep going?"



"I'm just so pumped!" I shouted back.





(Photo: In the final pumpy territory on Beatle Brow Bulge (5.10a).)



But then I looked up and I realized he was right. The angle eased in another two moves. I could do this.



I got back to moving and in another couple steps got to a real rest stance. I was so grateful that Adrian hadn't let me take a hang. Instead of noble failure, I had sweet, sweet success. I had done it. I had led my first (alleged) 5.10 trad route in the Gunks, onsight. It was an amazing feeling.



I finished the climb as Dick Williams suggests, heading to the right as soon as I was level with a tree ledge with an anchor. We were using doubles, but it appeared to us that you could reach the ground from this first station with a single 60 meter rope. There is another station at the next ledge, up another 30 feet or so through dirty, low-angled territory. This higher station is attached to a much bigger tree, but you'd need double ropes or maybe a single 70 meter to use it.



As I stood at the station waiting for Adrian to join me, I felt a great satisfaction with not just this one climb, but the whole year. I am so lucky to have gotten out to climb as much as I have, and to have made real progress over the course of the season. I may get another day or two on the rock before is over, but if the weather sucks for the rest of November I'll still be happy. I hope I can keep improving and make this climb not just a peak climb for one climbing year, but a preview of numerous 5.10's to come. This winter I'll have strong motivation to work to make this 5.10 just the first of many.

Fixed Gear Mercian, Freed and Re-Tyred

I've had a Mercian Vincitore since last Fall, riding it as a fixed gear fitted with 28mm Panaracer Pasela tires. Those tires are not known for their raciness, but honestly that suited me just fine, since my fixed gear riding style is best described as "pottering about." Still, eventually I got curious what this machine was capable of if fitted with faster road tires. I also wanted to feel what the bike was like to ride non-fixed. Now the Mercian sports 26mm Grand Bois Cerf tires and has temporarily been turned into a freewheel single speed.






The bike rides better than ever. The tires have a lighter feel to them and the ride quality - which I didn't think needed improving at all - is nonetheless improved. I should note that right now I have an old cheap flip-flop hub wheelset installed and not the nice Phil Wood wheelset we originally built it up with. This does not seem to make any difference. The bike feels as if I am riding on narrow balloon tires, with the speed and maneuverability of a fast roadbike.






"Freeing" the drivetrain changed the feel of the bike in several ways. It made me more aware of how responsive it is to pedaling efforts.It made me want to alter my positioning - namely to move the saddle back a bit and lower the handlebars. It also made me wish the bike had gears! I didn't miss them at all in fixed gear mode, but now the bike seems to "want" them. It's probably just because I have never ridden a non-fixed single speed roadbike before. It will be interesting to experience it this way for a bit. After that I will change it back to fixed.






I will also be making some component changes in the coming year. The gearing has been lowered twice already and it's clear that it needs to be even lower to suit my pedaling style. The Campagnolo crankset makes that impossible, since the smallest available ring is 49t. I will replace the drivetrain with something that will afford a categorically lower gear. Also, now that the bike is no longer fixed, I realise that the (Veloce) brake calipers aren't just "a bit weak" as I thought before, but simply do not work here; I must have been compensating with my feet more than I realised. We will try replacing the brake pads, but I doubt that will make enough of a difference. A better solution seems to get a set of plain ol' Tektro medium reach calipers. The initial build was based on the parts that were available to me at the time more than anything, but I like to spin fast and I like brakes that work well, so the components will have to change.






I've enjoyed riding this bike tremendously over the past year and think it was the right choice for me for a fixed gear bike. I like the versatility and can see myself putting fenders and a rack on it in some distant future. In the nearer future, I am curious how a radically lowered gearing will affect my experience of the bike, in particular when I use it for recovery rides. I think it's the right way to go.

Hoffman Family in Roann Cemetery

Located in Wabash County, Indiana one mile north of Roann on the east side of County Road 700W near CR 700N, the Roann Community Cemetery was formerly known as the I. O. O. F. Cemetery and even earlier as the Paw Paw Cemetery. There are four sections separated by roads that lead to a circle in the center of the cemetery. The markers for the family of Eliza Jane Wise and Anthony Hoffman are in Rows 13 and 14, in the north west section. As discovered in her obituary, Eliza was the daughter of Peter and Christina Wise, whom I believe are also the parents of Jacob Wise, my 3rd Great Grandfather.



The Hoffman marker in the foreground is that of Dayton Hoffman, to the right is the one for his daughter Helen. And to the right of hers is the one for Eliza and Anthony Hoffman. Behind and to the left of Eliza's marker is her daughter Ella Hoffman. And to the left of Helen is the marker for Effie and John Wertenberger. The large stone facing the road is the Gidley family monument. This picture was taken towards the end of my time in the cemetery and the rain was coming down in a steady stream instead of just drizzling, as it had been earlier in the day. Photographs taken on February 5, .. by Becky Wiseman.



The east face of the marker for Eliza Jane Wise and Anthony Hoffman.
A. W. HOFFMAN / DIED JULY 5, 1902 / AGED 64 YEARS
E. J. HOFFMAN / DIED NOV. 2, 1920 / AGED 78 YEARS



ELLA HOFFMAN / 1870 - 1918
Note: Ella was the daughter of Eliza and Anthony Hoffman. This stone is north of the Gidley marker and between the Hoffman and Wertenberger markers.



This is a huge monument, one of the biggest I've ever seen. Placed so that it faces the roadway that leads into the cemetery, it can't be missed. Which was a plus for me since it was one of the grave markers for which I was looking. The Gidley monument stands about seven feet in height, about five feet wide, and the base is more than 2 feet deep. Jennie Gidley was the daughter of Eliza Jane Wise and Anthony Hoffman. In the plots behind this stone are the markers for Eliza Wise Hoffman and her children.



The inscription on the south face of the Gidley monument:
ARAM GIDLEY / DIED / MAR. 5, 1923 / AGED / 79 Y. 8 M. 24 D.
JENNIE M. / WIFE OF / A. T. GIDLEY / DIED / AUG. 5, 1914 / AGED / 41 Y. 2 M. 7 D.



The inscription on the North face: W. W. GIDLEY / 1898 - 1974
EMMA / WIFE OF / A. T. GIDLEY / DIED / JUNE 1, 1892 / AGED 40 Y. 8 M. 18 D.
Note: Emma was Aram Gidley's first wife. Jennie Hoffman was his second wife.



at left: On the west side of the marker is the name WERTENBERGER.
On the east side: JOHN / 1853 - 1920 / EFFIE / 1866 - 1944

at right: On the west side of the marker is the name HOFFMAN.
On the east side: DAYTON / 1884 - 1940 / MARY / 1858 - 1905
Note: The year of birth for Dayton is not correct. He was born in 1864, not 1884.



HELEN O. HOFFMAN / 1892 - 1965
Note: Helen is the daughter of Dayton Hoffman.

Camp Patriot

The LA Times interviewed Incident Commander, David Gottlieb, regarding the most recent tragedy on the Muir Snowfield. The details are heart wrenching.

On a much more positive note, wounded veterans from Iraq and Afghanistan are aiming for Rainier's summit. Backpacker Magazine did a story (Shock and Awe) about last year's achievement. That extraordinary effort put a blinded Army Captain on the summit. Look for the team from Camp Patriot on the Disappointment Cleaver later this July.

Speaking of routes, folks are climbing them. We've updated the route conditions page, and posted information about successful attempts on the Emmons and Gibraltar Ledges. Have a great weekend.

Gunks Routes: Immaculate Conception/Son of Bitchy Virgin (5.6) & Bitchy Virgin (5.5)

(Photo: Heading up pitch 2 of Son of Bitchy Virgin (5.6))



Good judgment.



It is important to have good judgment when climbing. As a leader, I hope I have it. It is important to me to think that I have it. Thinking I have it is probably almost as important to my leading as actually having it.



As I've edged back into pushing my limits this year, I've tried to be cautious. But I know enthusiasm can at times threaten my good judgment. And I have a lot of enthusiasm.



My friend and longtime climbing partner Liz is having a baby in the fall. She has continued climbing (though not leading anything) during her pregnancy. She was with me on Apoplexy (5.9) earlier this year, for example. As her pregnancy has progressed she's gradually been forced to accept that she has to dial it back to easier climbing. But she hasn't given up without a fight. She gamely followed me up Birdland (5.8) in May even though she struggled with the cruxes of both pitches. On another occasion, climbing not with me, she had to prussik through the crux while following Modern Times (5.8+).



I was looking for partners while I was in New Paltz for the week before July 4 with my family, so I was excited Liz was thinking about joining us. I didn't want to put either of us in a dangerous situation given that she was now about halfway through her pregnancy. So I promised her that if she joined us at our summer house in New Paltz in early July, I wouldn't push her to do anything hard. We could focus on 5.6 and below, which we felt would be easy and casual for both of us.



My first idea was that we should do the Bitchy Virgin climbs. I had never done them. The original route, Bitchy Virgin, has two pitches of 5.5, and the successor Son of BV ups the ante slightly with one pitch of 5.5 and a second that is 5.6. In between is a variation single-pitch climb called Immaculate Conception (also 5.6) which ends at the Son of BV anchor. If we did them all we'd get 5 pitches done in this one little spot. Liz hadn't tried these climbs either so she agreed.



When we arrived at the base of the climbs, I thought Immaculate Conception looked like the most interesting line. A couple steep moves past some suspect flakes about 15-20 feet up seemed like the crux.



Once we racked up, I enjoyed it. The crux steep bit past the flakes leads over a bulge to easier climbing at a lower angle. The flakes are creaky but I don't think they're popping out any time soon. Once over the bulge there is a little bit of a runout to the belay ledge, but this runout is through territory much easier than 5.6. At the belay ledge there is a station made from slings threaded around a boulder, but I elected to build a gear anchor in the good cracks right above the ledge instead, so we could both comfortably stand on the ledge and belay with the anchor above our hands.



If our first pitch, Immaculate Conception, was nice, pitch two of Son of BV was really quite nice indeed. The climb goes straight up, trending a little left. It is nothing but good face climbing. Clean, steep and sustained, with good moves and good holds. I have seen reports of inadequate pro, but I thought the pro was just good enough. The horizontals appear every so often, and I even passed up an opportunity or two to place something a little off line to the left and the right. This is definitely not a pitch that you can sew up, however, and if 5.6 is your lead limit this climb might not be the best one for you. With that caveat aside, I would say Son of BV is yet another high quality 5.6 in the Gunks, worth the two stars Dick bestows upon it (when linked with Immaculate Conception) and further evidence that 5.6 is one of the great grades at the Gunks.



The rap tree on the GT Ledge at the top of Son of BV bears watching. This muti-forked tree has some live branches, and some that are dead or dying. It has seen better days. We went ahead and used it, because it didn't look like it would be that easy to get over to the much bigger and healthier-looking tree atop Bitchy Virgin. Pretty soon, unless the tree atop Son of BV recovers a bit, we may not have a choice. I have seen worse rap trees in the Gunks, but I think at another time in my climbing life I would have insisted we use a different station to get off the cliff. It may be that I have mellowed a bit when it comes to using these sketchy rap anchors, and I'm not sure this is a good thing. Perhaps we should not have used it.



Liz had no trouble following me up either of our first two 5.6 pitches, so I thought the two 5.5 pitches of Bitchy Virgin would be a breeze for her. It was getting hot out but neither of us were concerned. We didn't stop to take a break. Once we returned to the base I went right at pitch one of Bitchy Virgin.



The pitch climbs a corner at the back of a little gully that goes between the main cliff and the left side of the Mantle Block. I was surprised to find the Bitchy Virgin corner a little dirty. I didn't see much evidence of other climbers, either. This was in stark contrast to Immaculate Conception, the climb we'd just finished to the left, which had tons of chalk on it, even though all the nearby climbs were only recently reopened after the peregrine nesting that closes a portion of the cliff every year.



Is Bitchy Virgin unpopular? Dick Williams gives it a star. Perhaps it is the little scramble up the gully to the start that puts people off?



Whatever the reason, I think if people are taking a pass on Bitchy Virgin they are missing out. In my opinion it is good, and a bit stiff for 5.5. Nice moves go up the corner, using the crack at the back for pro and sometimes for upward progress. Eventually there is a somewhat awkward struggle past a tree (admittedly this part of the pitch isn't so great), after which you move a little further up the corner, almost to its top, before obvious holds take you on a fun, short traverse with good pro to the outside arete and around onto the main face, about 10 to 15 feet above the belay station for Immaculate Conception/Son of BV.



If I'm right that Bitchy Virgin isn't getting much traffic, I think that's an injustice. It is not a superclassic 5.5 like Horseman or Ursula, but I've done much worse one-star climbs in the Trapps. It is a totally worthwhile climb, and there aren't enough quality 5.5's out there for it to get so little attention, in my opinion.



Once I built us a belay, Liz had no trouble following the pitch. There was no sign of any problem. She came right up. Things were still going well.



So I set off on pitch two, having fun. It seemed a lot like pitch two of Son of BV, but easier. Clean steep climbing with good holds.



I was about twenty feet off the belay when Liz called up to me to say that she wasn't feeling well.



Uh oh.



I guessed that she was maybe feeling a little sick to her stomach.



I stopped and asked her a question. "Do you think you'll be able to finish this pitch?"



"No," she said. "I feel like I'm about to pass out!"



Crap. Not good.



Clearly we needed to get down. I immediately chastised myself for taking Liz up a multipitch climb. She hadn't had any fainting episodes on the rock before, but it suddenly seemed patently unwise to have her belaying me 100 feet off the ground halfway through her pregnancy, in the bright sunshine, away from the food and water. What a stupid thing to do. Both of us should have known better.



I stepped down to the last piece of gear I had placed and thought about our options. Option one: I could place another piece or two and build an anchor from which she could lower me to the belay. This meant that we'd be leaving pieces behind, which of course was a secondary consideration but still something to think about. Also, what if she passed out while lowering me? She was tied in, so she wouldn't go anywhere, but what about me? I'd be falling through space. She was belaying me with a Cinch, which should lock off if she were to let go, but still... this was not an acceptable option. I supposed I could build an anchor, attach myself to it, then pull up the rope and rap. But this seemed very time-consuming. There had to be a better way.



Quickly I came up with option two: I could just downclimb back to her. This immediately seemed like the better idea. She'd keep me on belay, I wouldn't leave any gear, and if she lost consciousness I'd still be on the rock, and not relying solely on her Cinch to catch me. The climbing had so far been through easy territory and I was confident downclimbing would be no problem.



I racked my brain for another option, but these were the best I could come up with.



So I downclimbed the twenty feet back to her, going as fast as I reasonably could and all the while talking to her to make sure she was still with me. It didn't take long, and it seemed with each passing second that it was less likely she'd actually faint. Nevertheless I was relieved to get back to the belay and clip in.



Once we were together I lowered her from the belay ledge to the ground, and then I rapped off. Even as I lowered her it seemed that the crisis had passed, but it still made sense to go find some shade, have some fluids, and rest a bit.



On the ground we ate and drank and Liz soon felt better; we even resumed some single-pitch climbing after we took a break.



As crises go this wasn't a big one. No one actually lost consciousness. No one was hurt.



But still one can learn from these experiences.



Obviously some of our decisions could have been better that day. We probably should have made more of an effort to stay in the shade, and to take things slow. And while maybe we didn't have to rule out multipitch climbing completely, at the very least we should have brought up some food and water with us on the cliff. I think we were lulled into a certain complacency by the fact that the climbing was easy and things were going smoothly.



So we maybe should have been more careful not to get into the situation in which we found ourselves. With that said, I think we behaved reasonably when the issue emerged. And I think the decision I made to downclimb was the right one, under the circumstances. The most conservative thing to do would have been to build an anchor, leave the gear, and rap to Liz. That would have allowed me to descend to her without requiring any belaying from her. If the climbing had been more difficult this likely would have been the only reasonable choice. But since the climbing was so easy I think my decision to downclimb instead was correct; it was the less complicated solution and quicker as well.



Good judgment? I guess I'll give myself a B. Poor planning, but a decent recovery.

Passiflora caerulea

Blue crown passionvine in bloom in my garden during June.

WindSwept Tree

I really loved the photo quality of this very nold, Juniper tree that was along the edge of Sandia Crest. I took lots of shots of it from all three angles I could get to. The fourth side of the tree was hanging off into space and I didn't want to go there. Lee took several pictures of me under it and then I took some of him. I think it is a Juniper tree and who knows just how old it it. Due to the wind blowing on it almost constantly I am sure it isn't as large as it would be if it was on flat land. And it is that wind that has shaped this tree the way it is.

Sunset at Schwabacher's Landing

Just when I thought the entire trip was going to go by without having any decent clouds, the planets aligned and for my last sunset of the trip we had fantastic clouds and color over the Teton Mountains! Our decision on where to shoot sunset on this evening was kind of up in the air, so I suggested going back to Schwabacher's Landing and giving it a try. Normally known as a better spot for sunrise shooting, the other morning when we were there I couldn't help but think that this would be a good spot for sunset as well. I always like to have moving water in my shots when possible, and I thought the water just below the beaver dam would make for a great foreground for a sunset shot.



Another element which added some drama to the scene was some smoke and haze from a nearby prescribed burn that was going on elsewhere in the valley. The Tetons were sort of "trapping" this haze on the east side of the mountains, which really helped to catch some extra color from the setting sun. It was a phenomenal sunset to witness. I only hope I was able to catch at least some of that feeling in these images.

An interesting thing that happened is that as soon as the "best" of the light started to fade, all of the other photographers started packing up their gear and leaving. The last one to walk by me stopped and said "Well, the lights gone now." I replied: "Not at all! There's still at least half an hour of good light left!" "Well, if you say so....." the man replied. He wished me well then retreated to his car. I spent close to another hour shooting after than encounter. The image below was made almost 40 minutes after that other photographer proclaimed the "good" light to be gone.



After shooting the sunset I parted ways with Jake and Stuart, thanking them for an incredible time. We had loads of fun shooting together. They went back to the hotel, and I hit the road since I had to be back in time to work Saturday morning. It was a short trip, but a great trip nonetheless. I can't wait to go back!

Petrified Forest National Park

After leaving the Grand Canyon, I drove east on Interstate 10 to visit the Petrified Forest National Park. In order to appreciate this place, you must exit the Interstate, get out of your vehicle, and take the short walks that are available. From Interstate 10 on the north side of the park there is a road that will take you a short ways into the Painted Desert, then it turns south to take you through the Petrified Forest. It comes out on U.S. 180 east of Holbrook, where you can easily pick up the Interstate again. It may take you a couple of hours to drive through the park, but it is well worth the slight detour.

The colors in some of the pieces are incredible. It looks like someone came along with a chain saw, a very large one in some cases, and cut up the “trees” into small pieces.... then they went and tossed those pieces and scattered them around the desert floor. Of course, the Rangers deny any such thing.

Actually, the Petrified Forest, as we see it now, is but a shadow of its former self. Before it became protected as a National Park, people came and took away quite a bit of the petrified wood. Even now, with a warning of a fine of several hundred dollars, people still walk off with bits and pieces. I can understand the attraction. It is beautiful stuff and the colors are startling, but I resisted the temptation and went away empty handed, except for the photographs I took.

Winter Wardrobe: Transport and Sport

I get a lot of requests for a comprehensive winter wardrobe post. Since it snowed again today, this seemed like a good time. I won't call this a "guide" and I don't assume that what works for me will necessarily work for others. But in the midst of Winter 4.0, this is the stuff that keeps me comfortable cycling even on the coldest days in greater Boston. For reference, our temperatures are typically in the 20s-30s F range, although it does occasionally get colder.



A few quick disclaimers: I am dividing this into "transport" and "sport" sections, because for me the two rarely intersect, not because I think others must keep them separate. Also, you will find that some things here are female-biased, because, well I am female. Finally, I linked to some companies and products, because readers tend to ask for specifics. As always, none of the product mentions are endorsements or "monetised" in any way; they are just there for your info.





TRANSPORT

Pictured here is the sort of thing I normally wear when getting around by bike, either for work or errands. I will start from the inside out.



Underwear

Worn closest to the body, underwear plays a crucial role in temperature regulation. So before I worry about bundling up, I make sure to get this part right. In my experience, underwear made of wool, silk, lycra/spandex and some technical polyester-based fabrics, is generally good at regulating body temperature and wicking moisture. Underwear made of cotton or acrylic is not. Out of the fabrics that work I prefer wool and most of my undergarments are from Ibex: I like their modern and stretchy wool/lycra blend. Icebreaker and Smartwool also offer some good options, as does Winter Silksif you're looking for budget-friendly silk.



Everyday Outfits

My everyday clothing ranges from casual to formal, but, especially in winter, it almost always involves skirts and dresses. This is because I find it easier to add warm layers under a skirt (wool leggings or legwarmers over tights), than to deal with layering under trousers or jeans. Also, if it rains or snows, tights with knee-high boots are a highly effective way to keep dry. After several winters of experimenting, most of my cold-weather outfits are now wool. I knit wool skirts myself in variety of styles. And I wear wool sweaters over wool or silk base layers. 100% merino is harder to find now in mainstream stores than it used to be, but J. Crew remains a good source and they have frequent sales (like right now). I also alternate between several wool dresses, mostly handmade. And I still own a few wool skirt-suits from my suit wearing days.If I want to wear an outfit that is made of a non-temperature regulating fabric, I will wear a wool or silk baselayer under it and it'll be fine. But to me, wooly stuff just feels overall warmer and cozier.



Tights

When buying cold-weather tights, I look for wool and nylon/ lycra/ spandex content, and I avoid cotton and acrylic content - because, as with baselayers and underwear, the latter does not wick moisture or regulate temperature well. Smartwoolmakes decent all-around winter tights (and socks). Falke is a European favourite, but expensive. Another option is to wear dense nylon tights (such asthese), with wool leggings or legwarmers over them, which can be later removed indoors.



Footwear

Both on the bike and off, I am a fan of waterproof boots rated for freezing temperatures. For years, I have been wearing La Canadienne boots that are exactly that. I have a pair of their ankle boots and a pair of knee-high boots that look reasonably professional and feminine, while being absolutely winter-proof. The soles have excellent traction on snow and ice, which is also useful for when my bike pedals turn slippery. With the knee-high boots, the additional benefit is that they keep my legs extra warm, and protected from slushy splash-back.



Coats

On the bike, I favour wool 3/4 length coats with an A-line shape, so that the hem does not constrict pedaling. The coat should fit loosely enough to allow layering underneath, and should not in itself be too warm. When I am walking, I will sometimes wear a down-filled coat, but I find it too bulky when cycling. The down-filled coats can also be slippery on the bike saddle, whereas wool coats stay put. My current coat is about 6 years old and I no longer remember where I bought it.



Hats

Usually I wear a wool beret or hat that I knit myself. I take care that the stitching is dense enough to be wind-proof, and that the hat covers my ears.



Gloves

My favourite gloves for cycling are wool and grippy. They are perhaps not the most elegant choice, but their functionality has won me over.



Scarves

After some experimenting, I have taken to wearing a shawl-like wool scarf which I wrap around my neck once and then tuck the rest into the front of my coat for an extra layer of warmth over the chest. This really helps when cycling against an icy headwind. Beware of long, flowing scarves on the bike,for obvious reasons.



Want more winter wardrobe advice from genuine cycling fashionistas? Dottie of Let's Go Ride a Bike has excellent tips from snowy Chicago. Here is her latest post on the topic and a more general guide for winter dressing. Also, this excellent Bikeyface post will not disappoint.





SPORT

With roadcycling, I find getting dressed in the winter easier, simply because there is less creativity required. I can wear the same thing over and over! Here is my formula:



Base Layers

I like thin, long sleeve wool base layers. There are many options to choose from now.Rivendell has come out with a nice US-made one recently. I also wear a wool/lycra sportsbra underneath (see "Underwear" earlier).



Tights

In winter temperatures, I wear fleece-lined full length tights. I have triedbib tights, but ultimately I find them too fussy to get in and out of. I prefer the padded winter waist-high tights from Capo, and wear a model from a few seasons ago. In addition to being super warm, these are also somewhat water resistant. I have made do without rain or snow pants so far, and have not felt the need for them.



Socks

I love the simplicity and longevity ofDeFeet wool socks. Of all the wool and wool-blend socks I've tried; they have been the most durable. When it gets particularly cold, I wear two pairs.



Mid Layers

My midlayer is a winter-weight long sleeve cycling jersey. As long as I wear a wool baselayer, it does not matter to me what the midlayer jersey is made of, as long as it insulates. I own a few now, but my favourites have become the wool/poly blends from Rapha and Shutt Velo Rapide. These are wool on the inside, with some high-tech poly coating on the outside. I do not like how they feel against the skin, but as midlayers I find that they offer the best temperature regulation.



Outer Layers

Winter outer layers are tricky. A windbreaker/shell type jacket is not enough. A jacket that's too warm can be even worse. Last winter I bought a Rapha winter jacket on the recommendation of some of the women I rode with, and it is just right, even for the coldest temps around these parts. This is a painfully expensive jacket, but it does go on sale occasionally and stalking it was worth it.



Gloves

DeFeet Duraglove. I have tried fancier and supposedly more weather-proof gloves, but prefer the DeFeets. Gosh, I hope they never discontinue these.



Neck Warmers

These are called various things, depending on the manufacturer, including neck gaiterandcollar. I have a few and find them very useful. For extremely cold rides, I have tried a balaclava, but it is not my cup of tea; I prefer to wear a neck warmer and pull it over my mouth instead.



Hats, Etc.

I wear a tightly knit wool winter cycling caps with brims and ear flaps. I buy these instead of knitting them myself, because I can't get the weave tight enough by hand; it has to be machine-made. Several companies offer these hats now. I have one from Bicycle Fixation and another from Ibex. I usually wear a helmet on my roadbike, and find that this adds to the cap's warmth, while also helping to keep it firmly in place.



Shoes

I do not own winter cycling shoes at the moment, though I hear there are some wonder-boots from Lake that are pretty good and I might save up for those eventually. I have some overshoes on loan from theRide Studio Cafe, but I have to admit they scare me, so I have yet to try them. Instead I just wear multiple pairs of socks for now. My toes have only frozen a couple of times so far...



Want winter wardrobe advice from more experienced roadies? The Blayleys have an excellent series of posts on this topichere, here and here. As they probably spend more time on the bike in the winter than off, they are the best source I know.



Keep warm and enjoy yourself on the bike this winter, whether in sport or transport!