Males and Females Are Different

While editing pictures today, I was preparing some of them for digital scrapbooking pages. I cracked up at some of them of Nathan and Austin. Every year I like to get a picture of the birthday person and the rest of the family. My family is a bunch of nuts though. What starts out as "Awwww" moments, normally turns into silliness within about five seconds. I've learned to snap pictures really fast. Remember Christmas? Yeah, that.



Here is the birthday version:

I can't help but ponder the difference between male and females here. I mean, I can't recall one time...EVER...that I had the thought to grab my Mom and see if I can lift her off the ground. I have wanted to do a makeover or two on her when I was younger and learning hair and makeup myself. I've wanted to play Scrabble with her to see if I can beat her. I think making Christmas goodies with her is a blast. I have even had the thought that it would be great fun to sing karaoke with her sometime. But pick her up? Uh...no.



It is impressive that he can lift Nathan though, isn't it? I mean, just because I have no desire to do it myself, doesn't mean I can't admire it as I'm watching it.



Living the life in Virginia!

Ring of Steall project sent!

Ring of Steall, 8c+, Steall Crag, Glen Nevis. Photos by Claire MacLeod. Click on the pics for a bigger view.

Yesterday I climbed the Ring of Steall project at Steall hut crag. When I got to the belay I had to slap myself and confirm with Claire that it had actually just happened and I wasn’t dreaming. In fact, a dream like state was exactly how I climbed it. The whole thing flowed with effortless ease and perfectly focused effort, on the very first time I made a proper redpoint attempt. Ascents that happen so perfectly with no mistakes, no hesitation and no consciousness of self are so rare. Nevermind on a route I’ve been trying for ten years! I’d say that was by far the most focused moment of my life so far. It was so unexpected, but maybe it had to be to occur in the first place?

This project has been an inspiration simmering in the back of my head for ten years. It was equipped and tried by Cubby in the early nineties and he worked hard on it, coming very close to getting past the crux section before injury and work got in the way and the momentum was lost. I’ve talked with Dave about the project many times since and it was always a huge goal for either of us. If Dave had done it in ’92, it would have been one of the top five sport routes in the world at the time – an incredible effort.

Dave was (still is) a massive inspiration to my climbing, and climbing his hardest routes was a huge goal of mine, in my progression in climbing. Although I managed to climb most of them, the Steall project always remained as a huge test I wanted to pass, but that crux just felt brick hard. Every year I had a day on it, and every year it seemed above my level.

The crux Egyptian of Ring of Steall

It’s about 8a+ to get to the big undercut in the centre of the wall, then you have to get an evil sloping crimp with your left hand, that is so smooth, it’s almost like its been buffed and polished – nothing but pure strength will do to hold it. Then, it’s the Egyptian. Over the past month I’ve walked down the path from Steall feeling that it’s the most beautiful move I’ve ever experienced on rock, and other nights been cursing it to hell. Last week I finally mastered the correct timing of how to drop the knee and then push in the exactly correct direction with each foot. It’s the ultimate move – when performed with technical excellence, it's easy. But if you don’t move the limbs in the correct sequence of subtle shifts, no amount of strength or psyche will make any impression.

This type of climbing suits Cubby’s technical mastery perfectly, so it’s a shame that he wasn’t able to finish it. It’s no surprise to me that the route left such a big impression on him as it has done on me – perfect movement in a beautiful place.

Having completed this route, if I had to give up climbing tomorrow due to some disaster, I’d be satisfied with my effort. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt that. Climbing it has confirmed in my mind something I felt for the first time after climbing Rhapsody; We can really do anything, and I mean anything we want. Circumstances are indeed barriers, but never impenetrable ones. We are limited only by knowing exactly what we want and having the pure motivation to find it. I always heard this idea from ‘motivational types’ in the past. As a sceptic I’ve spent over ten years trying to refute it by repeatedly trying seemingly impossible projects. Every time the result is the same – Tasks you are not truly motivated for may always remain beyond your reach, tasks you are deeply motivated for take you on a long and convoluted route around the barriers that circumstances create. Sometimes, in the thick of the maze of circumstances, you realise your motivation is not deep enough and its best to try something else. But when the motivation remains through deep frustration, the results are always… always… just around the corner.

How cool is that.

Copenhagen, City of Bicycles: the Book

When the Bicycle Quarterly Press asked me to review Copenhagen, City of Bicycles, I could not help but wonder what this book could offer that the world of bicycle blogs has not already familiarised us with. In 2007 a certain Mr. Colville Andersen flung open a virtual window into the pedaling soul of the small Scandinavian city with Copenhagenize and Copenhagen Cycle Chic, establishing its worldwide reputation as a cycling mecca. Since then, Copenhagen has become synonymous with cycling - with fashion-oriented bicycle bloggers paying homage to its style and progressive city planners eager to emulate its infrastructure. Given the wealth of imagery and information on the topic readily available online, what can a book aboutCopenhagen and bicycles tell us that we don't already know?



Of course, it's not always in the "what," but in the "how." In Copenhagen, City of Bicycles Cecilia Vanman presents a comprehensive, colourfully illustrated introduction to the city's cycling culture and history, painting a portrait of a magical, happy place that the reader will long to visit. The photography (by Robyn Maddock) makes liberal use of fading sunlight, infusing the images with a warm, dynamic and nostalgic feel. The layout is clean, contemporary and easy to follow - despite the side-by-side placement of Danish and English text. Divided into 9 chapters, it maintains a clear sense of structure and direction from beginning to end. The narrative flows easily, steering clear of dry technical talk and empty "fluff" in equal measure. The tone is friendly and never condescending.



While those uninformed about Copenhagen's cycling culture will undoubtedly benefit from this bookthe most, it is not without novel information even for readers who've been browsing bicycle blogs for years. I found the chapter about manufacturers and framebuilders informative, and many other random interesting tidbits throughout. I also enjoyed the pictures of some unique vintage and modified bicycles and wished there were more of those.



The one part of the book that did come across to me as redundant, was the chapter consisting of photos and brief bios of Copenhagen cyclists. This is a tactic that I feel is best left to the realm of blogs and flickr - it is more effective there than in print. But overall, I would say that City of Bicycles summarises and supplements, rather than competes with, the Copenhagen-oriented bicycle blogs.

Copenhagen, City of Bicycles is published by Nyt Nordisk/ Arnold Busck, and distributed in North America by the Bicycle Quarterly Press. If you would like to receive my reviewer's copy for free, please leave a comment by Sunday 11:59pm US Pacific time (with a functional email address where I can readily reach you - this proved to be a problem again for the last give-away) - and I will choose the recipient at random. Enjoy the long weekend!

Iron Goat Trail ..

Hot weather and mixed signals caused me to be sans partner again. Originally I was pretty bummed, but really enjoyed my final choice of destination or, conveyance.

I looked through a mountain bike guide and decided to get some low impact exercise. I decided on the Iron Goat Trail as it is in the south side of the valley and should be fairly shady. It is a rail trail and used to be part of the Milwaukee Railroad. It is also part of the larger John Wayne Pioneer Trail, which stretches most of the way across the main portion of the state to Idaho. I was also excited to ride my bike through the Snoqualmie Tunnel. However, since this was a plan hatched before going to bed the night before, I had no idea the tunnel was closed.

The tunnel
I parked for the trail off Exit 38 of I-90, but could have taken the western terminus near Rattlesnake Lake. This is where I saw the sign in the parking lot stating the tunnel was closed. Mostly it meant I did not have to worry about a headlamp, and it was cutting about five miles round trip off my excursion.

Since it was unclear where to access the trail, I accidentally rode up the pedestrian foot trail before locating the rail trail and heading east. I immediately starting riding by the Exit 38 crags where people were climbing (and blocking the trail.) The route is deceptively flat/uphill. It has to do with the maximum angle a trail can climb, which isn't that steep. The trail looks flat, but I had to constantly grind my way uphill. A much different workout than a steep hill where you can alternate between standing and sitting. My speed was twice as fast, and cadence maybe five times faster. Sections with deeper gravel really took extra effort. I paused at the halfway uphill point to catch my breath a bit. It was also nice not to be sitting, as my mountain bike saddle is not meant for thirty miles of continuous sitting.

I rode along occasionally standing to give my backside a rest while passing hikers and other bikers. I also passed numerous trail heads that I have been to before while hiking or climbing. In a little over an hour, I reached the closed tunnel. A few pics were snapped, I snacked a bit, and then it was time to enjoy the downhill. There is a nice picnic area there that offers views of Snoqualmie Pass peaks.

The Tooth, Denny, Snoqualmie Peaks

While I did not have to continuously pedal for the downhill, it was not steep enough to coast the 14 miles. Of course, to make things more difficult there was a headwind in many locations on the return trip. More wooded areas blocked the wind, but on the trestles, it slowed me down a touch. I was back at the car over two hours after I left.

This was a good ride and fairly mellow if you discount the fact that it is uphill the whole way east. Hopefully the state will find the money to make the tunnels safe so one could ride to Idaho if they wanted. The fourteen mile section I was on had some ample camp sites, although I'd imagine I wouldn't need one until the other side of the pass.

Manic!

photo stolen directly off Andy's web site :) More here on what the gear was for:

http://slcsherpa.blogspot.com//12/light-and-fast-ski-mountaineering-part_12.html


I've been rather manic the last week or so. Not able to get out. But knowing there is an end to that nonsense. I start devouring the Internet chatter and searching things that interests me at the moment. Thatwill be ice soon enough. At the moment it is skiing. Primarily trying to get the gear I want for this winter before it is sold out and unobtainable for another season. 2 pair of skis and 2 pair of binding to go yet.



Although 2 years old now, this a good piece I found and read while dicking around in my manic phase today. In this game everyone seems tohave an AHA MOMENT.



Mine was theski from the top of the Grand Montets tele over to the base of les Droites North face2 months after Andy wrote this. Took me another couple of months to wrap my head around $1000 ski boots. But I have not looked back. More like damn the torpedos and full speed ahead! And you thought race bike andcar parts were expensive?



"Everyone does it. Bloggers, or as I prefer,
those that keep "online journals", always seem to give unsolicited advice about
how to go faster, be more efficient, or do things better. After a 3 hour
aggressive conversation with a couple friends about training methods yesterday,
I decided to put down my thoughts in a multi part series on everything from
training, gear, clothing, partners, etc."



"They showed up on skinny skis and funny boots (F1s and early model Dynafit race
boots). From the gun, I had trouble keeping up - even on the flats. By the
time I landed on Box Elder's panoramic summit, Sam had been waiting for days and
the other guys were half way up the Pfeiff. I was utterly blown."



More here:



http://slcsherpa.blogspot.com//12/light-and-fast-ski-mountaineering-part.html





http://slcsherpa.blogspot.com//12/light-and-fast-ski-mountaineering-part_12.html

Red Rock Cliff Ice

With the bitter cold temperatures of recent days comes the increased production of ice along the shores of Lake Superior! Here's a recent shot of icicles hanging from the cliffs on Red Rock Beach in Grand Portage.

Aunt Leah and Tatting

Dave Tabler's post this morning at Appalachian History on Reviving the ancient art of tatting reminded me of my aunt Eva Leah Wiseman Shock (my Dad's sister). Beside Aunt Leah's chair at her home in Goshen, Indiana was a bag full of thread. As she sat there visiting with my parents she'd pull out some weird looking thing and start to work. We weren't allowed to touch anything at her house, especially that bag. And, at the time, we didn't even know what she was doing. Years later my mom would tell us about Aunt Leah and her tatting.

Aunt Leah was born on February 4, 1908 in Tippecanoe Township, Kosciusko County, Indiana and was the second child born to Elsie Shuder and Charles Wiseman. The day before Leah's 18th birthday her mother died in a fire that destroyed the small house the family was living in, and from what I've been told, devastated the family as well. There were seven other children in the household with Perry being the oldest at 19 years of age, and my Dad being the youngest, just a little over 2 years old.

In the 1930 Federal Census (Tippecanoe Township, Kosciusko County, Indiana, E.D. 43-20, sheet 6B) the five youngest children are enumerated in the household of their grandparents, Samuel and Amanda Wiseman. I haven't yet found Grandpa Charlie or Perry and Leah in the 1930 census yet so I don't know where they were living. It's possible that Grandpa Charlie was in jail. Newspaper clippings show that he was arrested numerous times between 1909 and well into the 1930's for fishing with a net, bootlegging, and other minor infractions of the law. It's no wonder that Aunt Leah ended up in a mental institution for a while. She would somehow eventually be rescued from that place by her future husband, Ervin Shock (we always called him Shocky). They were married on April 13, 1941 in Elkhart County and made their home at 321 ½ First Street in Goshen. First Street was the first street to the east of the Elkhart River, hence it's name. When we were older, the first place we'd head for when visiting Aunt Leah was the river and the park on the other side.

The photograph of Ervin and Eva Leah Shock, with her nephew Bill Conrad, was probably taken in 1941.





Mom says that Leah learned tatting from her grandmother, Amanda Minerva Alexander Wiseman. The skill was not passed down to the younger generation and there are not many examples of Aunt Leah's work left that I am aware of, except for several items that my cousin Caroline was given. Those are shown above. Aunt Leah passed away on January 9, 1967 at her home in Goshen and is buried next to her parents in the North Webster cemetery.